Nevermor (40 page)

“Yeah, too bad. 
We’re not going back out there,” Mach chimed in.

They began to
shed their wet clothes, but when they noticed that Wren was there, they
shuffled out of sight to find something dry.

“It’s really
coming down,” Wren muttered, looking up at the dark roof of the tunnel.  There
was only a bit of water running down the roots at the walls, and though she was
grateful that she was not being rained on, she could feel the dampness and the
cold.

“Better go get
your brothers before they drown,” Nix suggested flatly.  “Some parts of the
tunnels do flood.”

Though she was
sure he hadn’t said it out of concern, she decided that it was good advice
nonetheless.  She went to fetch them but Henry was already awake and on his way
to the den, looking tired and cranky.  She didn’t try talking to him, only got
out of his way when he went past.  Max was still asleep, and though she hated
to wake him, she didn’t want to leave him alone.  She scooped him up, and he
was awake for only a moment before falling asleep again in her arms.

When she got
back to the den, the rest of them were gathered there.  A strong fire was going
in the hearth, lifting the gloom.  She laid Max down on the rug, where he
curled up and slept on.  She sat down with the rest of them, and something
about having them all there together felt cozy and familiar.  She supposed it
brought back memories of being gathered in the closet with the other orphans
back at the Home.

Yes, she was
still able to remember it.

Finn smiled
sheepishly at her, but the rest of them just sat there, languid and sober,
listening to the storm over their heads.  After several moments, Wren began to
recognize their silence, and it was odd to her.  Why were they so quiet?  She
decided that it was owing to the fact that they’d been roused from their sleep,
but after looking around at them all, she noticed that one of them was missing.

How could I have
overlooked it?

“Where is
Rifter?” she asked.  No one answered her immediately.  She watched them shift
around and eye each other.  Some of them looked down at the floor as if to
ignore her question, but she wasn’t going to let them do that.  Hadn’t they
learned that by now?

“Should I go get
him?” she asked, and most of them jerked to attention at that.

“He’s asleep,”
Nix said firmly, though he’d shown no abrupt reaction.  “He always sleeps
through the storms.”

He didn’t look
at her when he said it, busy with his pipe now, and she wondered if he was
lying.  A flare of uncertainty lit up inside as she considered that they were
keeping a secret from her.  Perhaps Rifter was not really there, having gone
off to some place covertly, leaving the others to lie for him.  Had he left
without telling her?  Wren grew angry over that, for she was not willing to be
made a fool.

“Well, he should
be here with the rest of us.  I’m going to insist.”  She began to rise, but
Toss grabbed her arm.

“No, you can’t! 
He’s dreaming!”

There were
groans of irritation from some of the others, as if he had given away a
well-kept secret.  Had he?  Wren didn’t understand.

“She’s one of us
now.  She might as well know it,” Finn said to the rest of them in Toss’
defense.

“Dreaming?  What
do you mean?” Wren asked, taking her seat again.

They still
seemed unsure of whether or not to elaborate on that, glancing at each other
until finally Sly spoke.

“You know what
Nevermor is, and you’ve been told that Rifter is connected to it.  This is a
place of dreams, but when
Rifter
dreams – or rather, when he has a
nightmare – we get
this
.”

Wren wasn’t
quite surprised, yet she was amazed.  This violent storm had come on because
Rifter was uneasy in his sleep?

“Has anyone ever
tried waking him up?  I think I’d like to be woken up if I was having a
nightmare.”  The answer seemed simple to her, but they were quick to tell her
otherwise.

“No, he doesn’t
like that,” Mech said.

“He’d rather us
pretend it isn’t happening,” said Mach.

Wren listened to
them, but the idea disturbed her.  How could they all sit here when Rifter was
in obvious turmoil?

“I feel I should
go check on him,” she insisted, and she was on her feet again.

“Don’t do that,
Wren.  Just stay here with us,” Finn encouraged her pleadingly.

“Yes, we’ll play
some music or something,” Toss promised.  “We’ll get our instruments.”

Wren looked
around at their entreating faces, but she had already made up her mind.

I’m going.

She stepped
through the midst of them, and none tried to stop her, but she heard Nix call
after her, his voice echoing down the tunnel.

“You’re just
going to piss him off!”

She didn’t pay
attention to the warning.  Wren carried on toward Rifter’s room, and the fact
that she had never been allowed to go inside, even to clean, did not deter her
when she got to the curtain.

Already, she
could hear him groaning, and the thunder seemed to grumble in unison.  If she
had doubted what they’d said about Rifter causing the storm, she believed it
now.  Carefully, she lifted the flap of animal hide and went into the forbidden
space.

The faint glow
of a lantern illuminated the room, and she could see him there on a bed of
leaves and feathers.  It reminded her of a nest.  He was covered by a thin
cloth that was stretched across him precariously, but she was sure he was naked
beneath it.  She tried not to look, but the portion of his skin that she could
see was covered in a glittering sheen of sweat.  His face was contorted,
strained.  He groaned as his body convulsed, seizing up with the waves of the
storm outside.

He’s in pain…

Wren felt sorry
for him, wanting to comfort him in some way, but she wasn’t sure how to go
about it.  Though the others had warned her not to wake him, she didn’t think
she could leave him alone now that she had seen him like this.

Taking a deep
breath and holding it, as if the slightest sound would disturb him, she crept
forward.  She stood over him, next to the nest-bed.  His muscles clenched as he
strained, and he thrashed a bit in his sleep.  She wondered how close she
should get, thinking he might hit her on accident, but she held onto the idea
that she could console him somehow.  As if it was an issue of loyalty, she
would not leave him.

Growing brave,
Wren lowered herself and sat on the edge of the mattress.  She watched him,
seeing a trickle of sweat rolling down the side of his face.  Wren hated to see
him like that.  She raised her hand to wipe it away with the tips of her
fingers—

– and in the
next instant, Rifter had grabbed her wrist and shot directly up in the bed with
a gasp.

Wren jerked back
but could not escape.  He held her arm in a clenched fist.  His blue eyes
looked damp and hazy, but they finally focused on her, and she thought that he
knew who she was.  Still, he did not say anything, only stared, breathing hard
in the wake of his dream.

“Rifter.”  She
said his name so that he would know her.

They sat there
looking at each other, both mystified.  His grip was still solid, and for a
moment, she thought she felt it tightening.  Wren didn’t know what his reaction
would be now that she had woken him up, and she wondered if she should have
listened to the others.  Would he yell at her?  Drive her away?

Rifter sat
there, staring through her – and then he put his arms around her, drawing her
in against him.  He laid his head on her shoulder, his face away from hers. 
His fingers gripped the cloth of her gown as if clinging to her was the only
thing that would keep him anchored in this world – keep him from falling back
down into the darkness.

Wren was
surprised but glad for this reaction, and breathed a sigh of relief as she put
her hands against his back.  His skin was warm, feverish perhaps, but she
believed he would be better now that he was awake.

“Where am I?” he
asked her.  Wren was shocked by his question.

“You’re home,”
she told him.  “You’re safe.”

His breathing
began to calm a bit, but her mind was troubled.  Why didn’t he know where he
was?  Was he so deep in the dream that he had forgotten?  Did he remember
who
he was?  Did he remember her?

When he said her
name, she felt better about that.  He was calming down, remembering the world
around him.

“Wren,” he said
dryly, “I don’t want to go back there…”

“It’s alright,”
she promised him.  “You were just having a bad dream.  Everything’s fine.”

He didn’t say
anything else for a few moments.  His fingers loosened a bit but he held onto
her and kept his head on her shoulder.  She thought she was supporting all his
weight, which was heavy to her, but she did not push him away.

“What were you
dreaming about?” she ventured to ask, running a hand over his hair.

“I don’t
remember,” he told her, but she wasn’t sure if that was the truth.  She didn’t
press it, however.

Above her head,
the sound of the rain had slacked and the wind had died down.  There was still
a bit of thunder, but it seemed distant, moving away.  Rifter had come back to
her, and the storm was passing.  She smiled to herself, knowing that she had
managed to soothe him.

They stayed that
way for a while until his breathing had finally returned to normal.  Then he
was urging her down onto the bed with him, and it was her turn to have a
speeding heart.  He settled in behind her and put his face against her neck,
holding her close like a talisman that would keep the bad dreams away.  Wren
was content to lay there with him if it would keep him calm – never mind that
he was naked.  She wanted to be near him, so she closed her eyes as well and
listened to the rhythm of his breath.

Over their
heads, the storm had broken up and slipped away, carrying the horrors off with
it.

3

In the den, the
boys could hear that the storm had slacked.  They looked at each other, unsure
of what to think, but knew what had happened, and that Wren had somehow
consoled Rifter enough that the gale had passed and his bad dreams had moved
on.

From his spot
near the fire, Nix listened, marveling as the wind quieted and the rain began a
peaceful drizzle above them.

“Well,” he said
to himself, but loud enough for the others to hear.  “I guess she is good for
something, after all.”

I know what I must
do.

I won’t give him
time to think.

As soon as I am
able, I must attack him with all that I have.  I must isolate him – take away
those others who make him strong.  That is the key to his weakness.  I don’t
know why I didn’t see it before.

We're opposing forces, he and I.  We are evenly matched.  The
secret is finding out how the balance might be disturbed so that things will
lean in my favor.  I may not know it yet, but I must recall how to get at it.

Here's
the thing that I must remember above all else – no matter where I go, what
happens to me, or what else I might forget:

In the
beginning, there was only the two of us, and that is exactly how it will end.

1

Before the storm
had settled, the tempest was raging on all across the island, bringing fierce
rain and wind to wash the land clean.  The thunder and lightning had led all
the inhabitants – humans and creatures alike – to seek shelter.  Even the sea
was troubled, lashing out wildly, wrecking anything that was foolish enough to
be out on the waves.  When the storm began to slack, the world itself did not
understand, but it accepted the calm.

On the other
side of the island, beyond the thick jungle and high mountains, there was a
settlement nestled in a cove.  Those who lived there were part of their own
class, having spawned from a small group that had been lost on the sea and
washed ashore years ago.

They were
thieves and vagabonds – whatever they had to be to survive, and whatever they
wanted
to be to declare their freedom.  There were no rules for them; no order or method
to the chaos of their lives.

In their
secluded part of the world, there was only one thing that even the worst of
them had not been willing to do out of fear.  On this night, a man named Euniz
Pritt had decided that he was going to do that one thing.

In an isolated
area near the rocks of the south bay, there was an enormous black ship that had
run aground.  It was called the Desdemona, and it had been abandoned there for
months.  No one had even acknowledged it since it had been left – a subject of
taboo that was best ignored.  The deck had been empty for so long that Euniz
had decided that there was no reason why he shouldn’t have the vessel for
himself.  It was obvious that none of the previous crew were coming back.