Forsaken Dreamscape (Nevermor) (7 page)

She
rushed forward with the others, trying to blend in as she once had when she’d
been just another face in a cell full of bodies.  Near her, a fleeing girl was
snatched back by her hair and thrown to the floor.  Wren instinctively pulled
her curls over her shoulder.

She
came out to the end of the corridor where the doors were open toward the
courtyard.  There, many inmates were already running across the yard as
orderlies were trying to corral them.  Looking on at this jumbled scene, Wren
was nervous.  This was her one opportunity to leave this place in the
confusion, but was it possible that she could?  The world outside was frightening. 
She would be alone.

What
will happen next?  What will become of me out there?
  She did not
have much time to think it over.  This might have been her only chance of ever
getting out.

Wren
made her decision and took a step forward – just as a hand reached out from the
shadows and pulled her into the dark.

She
gasped as she was pushed against the wall, caught looking toward the face of a
figure that she couldn’t make out, for it was covered in a hood that was
shielding his features.  Wren stared at him, close enough that she could hear
the rhythm of his breath.

“Rifter?” 
She could not see him, but she knew it was true.  Her heart swelled with so
much happiness that she forgot about the riot and the mimic, disregarding them
completely.  Perhaps, in that moment, she even forgot the trials of the last
four years – just erased them from her mind and moved on.  None of it mattered
anymore.  Rifter had finally come.

The
shadowy figure before her said nothing – did not speak her name or confess that
he’d missed her.  He raised his hand and blew into his open palm, sending an
unexpected cloud of shimmering dust across her face.  She couldn’t help but breathe
it in, and immediately her vision began to swim.

The
reaction was much faster than what the draught had done.  She felt dizzy.  Her
knees grew weak, and she felt him lift her up but she did not fight it.  Though
there were many questions, she knew she had to be patient.  She had already
waited four years.  She could wait a bit longer.

Wren
embraced this sleep, trying to focus on his face as she drifted away.  In her
unconsciousness, she thought she was smiling.

1

Wren
slept the deepest sleep she had in quite a long time, but it was dreamless,
like all the other hours.  She traveled on through the complete darkness of
space until breaking through the barrier of light and sound, and suddenly she
had drifted into another world where the sky was gray and full of storm.

There
was a storm coming that night.  I don’t remember if it ever came…

She
woke up with the wind on her face, her arms draped across someone’s neck.

Rifter!

Her
heart sped up, pounding like a hammer.  She was resting against his back as he
flew over the dark clouds as lightning flashed in their bellies, and though she
feared that they might sting her at any moment, she didn’t care.  She was with
him again.

“I
knew you didn’t forget,” she said against him, squeezing him tighter.  He
didn’t respond, and her grip loosened as the clouds parted beneath them and she
was able to see the world below.

Wren
smiled, waiting to once again view the land she was returning to, but when she
had set her eyes on it, she nearly fell off his back.

Where
am I?
 
It was nothing like she remembered.

The
water was cloudy in the lagoon, the coves, and around the island.  Several
pirate ships were dotting the sea of dreams, poised like sharks.  The Tribal
village lay in ruins at the top of the overlook, as it had been left in former
days.  The earth of the island was jagged and barren in places, a thick mist
covering everything and making it hard for her to confirm if what she saw was
really there.

When
Wren had left Nevermor, she had thought that the darkness had withdrawn.  The
Scourge had been done away with and they had all promised that horrible
mistakes would not be repeated.  They were supposed to be building a new life. 
Now it appeared that an enormous nightmare had swallowed this world of dreams.

“What
happened here?” she gasped as they began to descend.

Still,
Rifter did not answer.  They were nearing the outer edge of a beach, where
perhaps she had set her foot in former days, but it was clearly unsafe now. 
The violent sea splashed in with large waves that washed up bones and pieces of
ship wreckage.  She could clearly see several wandering nightmares passing
along the shore, roaming through the ship graveyard with no focus or
destination.

Rifter
designated a spot on the beach for landing – distant from the waves and
nightmares – and did so, letting Wren down on her own feet.  After such a long
flight, it was strange to feel the force of gravity again, but Rifter didn’t
give her any amount of time to recover.  Immediately, he gripped her hand and
began to guide her beyond the hulls of the ships, pulling her toward the trees.

She
couldn’t say she was surprised by his behavior.  He had always done things his
own way without feeling he had to explain himself, but she had far too many
things to say to him.

“Rifter…”

“We
have to take cover,” he said in a raspy voice she hardly recognized.  “It’s not
safe in the open.”

There
was no pleasant reunion; no hugs or kisses.  She had often wondered if it would
be awkward when they met again, but she had thought there would still be a
connection between them.  She hadn’t expected
this
.

This
is wrong
,
she thought. 
All wrong!

“Rifter,
please," she begged, her voice cracking.  She could feel the desperation
pounding in her chest.  “Look at me!  Let me see your face!”

At
her words, he stopped, his boots disturbing the gravel as he halted.  He turned
toward her slowly, his face still hidden beneath the hood of his black tunic,
but she knew that he was gazing at her intently.

I
just need to see him.  I need to remember.  I need to look him in the eyes when
I ask him my questions.

“Do
you remember my face?” he asked, his voice low and careful.

“I
have tried to remember you,” she replied, clenching his hand where he held her.
“I've tried to keep everything with me, but it's been hard. You left me there
for so long – much too long!”

She
wasn’t sure how he would react to that accusation, but she could not hold it
back.  It had been trapped inside all these years.  Her anger toward his delay
was as strong as her longing for him.

“You
lost the dream,” he said.  “I couldn't find you.”

“I’ve
had a hard time dreaming at all since then.  I tried.  I waited for you every
day.”

She
was trying to make things softer between them, but he would not accept her
compromise.

“Things
happened,” he said vaguely, and she saw that the hood wasn't even directed at
her anymore.  Why wouldn't he look at her?

The
way he was standing now, dressed all in black and with the hood swallowing his
features, he was like a pit of darkness.  His coat of leaves had been replaced
by some sort of black hide, and to see him without that disturbed her.  He was
distant and cold, but she was reminded of something.  Her eyes lit with
recognition.  Even though she hardly recognized him now, she knew his shape.

The
shadow that had attacked her at the asylum was
his
.  She could see it on
the ground beside him now.  Somehow, he had taken it back, but that did not
excuse what it had done.  At that, the cut on her arm seemed to hurt even more.

“I
need answers, Rifter,” she said pleadingly, though she'd meant for it to be
stronger.  “Last night, a shadow tried to kill me, and it was
yours
! 
Why did Whisper turn on me again?  What has happened here?  I need to know,
but, please, I need to look at you.  I've missed your face.”

The
hood turned toward her again, and she imagined him staring at her from beneath
it.  Why was he so hesitant?  She only wanted to reconnect with him – to see at
least one thing that was still familiar in this world.

He
was silent for a painfully long time, but then she saw his shoulders droop.  He
sighed as he relented.

“Promise
me,” he started, “that you will try to remember it as it was.”

He
reached for the hood before she could begin to fathom what he meant, but when
he revealed his face to her, she understood.

His
skin was darkly tanned while his untamed hair had been bleached white by a
harsh sun.  His chest and limbs boasted strength, but it was the strength of
age and hardship, not athletic play.  From his left ear hung a long earring,
consisting of a feather and pin, which came down to his shoulder.

He
had changed, and there was yet another thing she recognized.  Like her, Rifter
had grown older.  This young man, a head taller than Wren, had aged during the
four years they had been apart, just as she had.

He
would have started aging as soon as I left.  But that’s impossible.  He swore
never to age.

All
of this had confused her, but it was his eyes that jolted her the most.  Dark
bags cradled them and the whites were bloodshot from lack of sleep.  Inside
amber-colored irises, his pupils were long and narrow, like a cat, or a snake;
Wren wasn’t sure which.  She recognized those eyes.  They were the ones she had
seen peering at her in the dream.

His
eyes were blue before
,
she remembered. 
Clear and blue.

This
was not the handsome boy she had expected to see.  Was there a flicker of him
inside there somewhere?  If there was, he was buried deep, beyond a visage that
she didn’t recognize anymore.

“Do
you know this face?” he asked, stepping closer to her.  When he spoke, she
could see that his teeth were jagged and sharp, making him look like a predator
– like a nightmare he might have slain.

Rifter
stood before her, inches away, and all she could do was gape at him a moment
before averting her eyes.  She didn’t mean to be, but she was afraid.  She
tried to think of what she might say, but nothing would come.  There was
silence between them as the waves rolled in, crashing on the nearby shore.

Sensing
her hesitation, he gripped her arms and she flinched, snapping to attention,
her gaze meeting his.  His strange eyes searched her own as his fingers
clenched her tighter.  If anything could have shocked her more than his
appearance, it was the intensity of his body temperature.  She could feel his
presence in front of her – absolutely searing!

“Do
you recognize me, Wren?” he asked again.  “Can you say my name with
confidence?”

“Rifter,
you're hurting me.”

As
soon as she said it, he released her, stepping back as if to separate himself
from his actions.  He looked toward the ground and a nervous smile came to his
face for a moment.  With that brief flash, she once again noticed his teeth –
sharp, so perfect for ripping flesh – and she was frightened.

“What
has happened to you?” she gasped.

“The
darkness came,” he said.  “It infected the world.  It changed us.”

“How?”
she asked, grasping for the answer.  “Please tell me.”

“I'm
sorry,” he said instead, an apology instead of a refusal.  “It's all because of
me
.”

Wren
had so many questions –
Where are the others?  Is it the Scourge?
– but
she knew they could only come out one at a time.  She dared to touch him,
resting her hands on his shoulders, only realizing then that she was shaking.

“Just
start at the beginning,” she urged, willing to put her own misfortunes behind her
for now.  There was no reason to drone on about her time in the asylum.  That
part of her life was over.

His
flaming eyes met hers tentatively, and a smile of gratitude came up on his
mouth.

“I
suppose I forgot how forgiving you are.”

At
that, she smiled a bit herself.  Maybe the boy she knew was there after all,
even if it was behind a face she hardly recognized.

Rifter,
there are so many things that I need to say
.  She did not get the chance.

A
sound echoed through the sky – a piercing animal cry – and Rifter lifted his
head to observe it, staring intently into the distance.

“We
can’t talk here,” he said firmly.  “It isn’t safe in the open.  Come on.”

Grabbing
her hand, he pulled her into the woods, away from the beach.  She’d seen this
place before, but it was much different now.

The
trees were pale and dead.  It was not grass or fallen leaves that passed
beneath their feet, but ash and soot.  The smell of smoke and burn invaded her
nostrils, but while Rifter pulled her along so forcefully, she could not help
filling her lungs with the tainted air.