Nevermor (47 page)

Days passed and
all was quiet, but still, there was a dark presence looming.  If the land could
have predicted the way this war would play out, it might have chosen sides, but
it could only feel that it served two masters until the day that it was
relieved of one – or both.

1

Below the dark
deck of the Desdemona, far from the light of day, the Scourge sat silently,
glowering at the wall.  He was in and out of the darkness, drunk, bobbing up
and down in a sea of pain.

A few days had
passed since his trial with the Rifter, and though he was in agony after the
boy had taken his arm, his rage and smoldering anger alone had cauterized the
flesh.  Perhaps he should have been thankful that he had escaped with his life,
but this time, that was not at all what he felt.

His attack on
the Tribals had gone differently than what he’d expected.  He hadn’t wanted
anything except to draw Rifter in, and though several of his men had been killed,
that didn’t matter at all.  His crew could be replenished, but he had lost
something a little more precious than that.

He’d lost his
dignity.  He had allowed the Rifter to disfigure him in front of them all.  He
could not forgive that.

The Scourge sat
in the dark, his fingers wrapped around the long neck of a bottle.  Smoke and
darkness were rolling off his coat as he stewed in his anger, but he gave it no
mind.  His ache was intense, but he drowned it out in liquor and hatred until
his eyes were sufficiently red and his agony seemed distant.

What had
happened?  Why had his effort failed?  He knew, and it was his own fault.

 Periodically
when his mind, throbbing with drunkenness and pain, managed to get away from
him,
she
was the thing that kept slipping in, taking over his thoughts.

That girl…

He had seen her
standing there in her white gown, looking so innocent and pure.  There was
something about her that had stricken him at his core – reminded him of
something from the past that he could no longer remember.  She had been the
reason that he had faltered, and yet he couldn’t find it in himself to blame
her for it.

If I could just
get close to her again…
  He wasn’t sure what he would do with her if he
did.

Was she
important to the Rifter?  Perhaps it would be the greatest irony if he could
use her against him.  There was room in his plan for that.  He didn’t just want
to
kill
the boy any longer; that wasn’t enough.  The Scourge wanted to
make him suffer.  He wanted to see tears in the boy’s eyes and pain on his face
as he ripped the ones he cared about from his life.

His body is
strong but his mind is weak.  I can crush his bones and his soul all at once.

He had always
hated everything that the boy was, but now it was more personal than it had
ever been.  The Rifter was in the way of him having full reign over the world,
and the Scourge never ceased trying to think of ways that he could finish their
rivalry for good.

Before he could
urge his mind to imagine future steps, the weight of the bottle was too much
for him and his arm could no longer hold it up.  It pulled his hand toward the
floor and made him slump down in the skeleton chair.

He saw the girl
in the white gown.  She was leading him away, beckoning to him.  He went after
her, following until they came to a door, outlined in light, but the
intimidating block was as black as the darkness.  The girl stood in front of
it, wanting him to follow.  He stretched his hand out to her, reaching for her
hair, but she darted away from him.  She threw open the door and dashed inside.

Without
thinking, the man followed.

2

It had taken a
while, traveling on foot, before the Rifter and his Pack had gotten to the
hideaway in the woods.  When they had reached it safely, Wren knew that she
should have felt relieved, but she wasn’t sure that she did.  Did she feel the
security that one could only feel when returning home?  Had she come back to
safety?

Almost
immediately, Rifter had gone away from her again.  There were no smiles or
walks or midnight kisses.  He and the others spent most of their time in the
council room where they had begun to make plans and predictions about what
would happen next.  Wren was not invited.

She tried to go
about her routine chores as she had before, but she only found herself growing
angrier at them – at Rifter – until finally she had given up.  Wren had stopped
doing everything.  Old fears had returned.

What’s going to
happen next?  Will we have a home tomorrow?  Will life ever be happy again?

She was sitting
there, staring at the roots in the wall when Henry approached her.

He sat down
beside her as he had once before – in the washroom at the orphanage.  That
seemed like such a long time ago.  How had he gotten so good at knowing when
she was troubled?

“Things are
pretty intense right now, huh?” he said conversationally.

When she looked
over at him, she had forgotten who he was for a second.  She was used to seeing
Henry with dirt on his face, but his hair was even dirtier and messier than
usual.  Only a few of the boys bothered to bathe regularly, and Henry had
obviously not seen any use for that practice.

He was so
different now.  How could she not have paid more attention while it was
happening?

“Listen,” he
began, “I know you’re going to say no to this, but hear me out.  I was talking
to the others and we think it might be important to start teaching Max a few
survival skills.”

She’d been
skeptical from the first word.  “Such as?”

“Well, basics at
first.  He should know about the land and learn his way around – how to survive
if he got lost or separated from the rest of us.  If that goes well, I guess I
figured we might teach him how to use a knife or something.”

She gave him a
horrified look that nearly melted him.

“Are you
mad
?”
she asked, on the verge of anger.  “There is no way I’m going to let that
happen!  A four-year-old carrying a weapon?”

“Don’t say it
like that,” Henry said, his brow wrinkling in defense.  “It would probably be
good for him.”

“It’s ghastly!”

“It’s
inevitable!” Henry shouted.  Here was the boy she remembered.  “The rest of us
can’t watch him all the time!  And what about you?  How can you protect him? 
Open your eyes!  This world is dangerous, especially now!  We have chosen to be
here so we have to deal with that!”

Wren was
startled, but his words managed to pierce her veil of defense.  The whole thing
came home to her in that moment.  This was real.  They were at war.  Maybe she
had
been going through all of this with her eyes closed – blinded by her
foolish hope or by love.  She did need to open them and look.

I don’t want to
look
. 
But she had to.  She couldn’t ignore the truth about this place.  It was
different from the world she had been born in, and no matter how terrible her
life had been back there, she didn’t have to fear that monsters were going to
devour her, or that some terrible man was going to descend upon them and kill
all the ones she loved.  She just hadn’t been expecting a war.

There is war
everywhere, Wren.

She sighed.  Was
there really no alternative solution?  Were they condemned to fight and die
young, or else live in a state of eternal youth forever?  Wren wasn’t sure that
she wanted to be a child any longer.  If she couldn’t get more feeling from
Rifter aside from what he was already offering her, then was any of it worth
the trouble?

Henry was
watching her.  It was her turn to make the next statement in the argument, but
she had already given up.

“I’ll think
about it,” Wren said finally, and it was Henry’s turn to be startled.  He had
been preparing to argue with her more, but she had given in too soon.

“I have to take
the next watch,” he told her.  “We can talk about it some more later.”

Wren didn’t even
notice that he had walked away.  She was deep in thought.  Was allowing Max to
be taught skills of violence the same thing as giving up on him?  She had
brought him here to preserve his childhood, not have it ruined by war and
darkness.

She saw now that
the thing she had come here to avoid was happening before her eyes.  She was
losing them just the same.  This had always been her personal war.  Perhaps it
was time to lay down her arms.

3

In the council
room, the Pack was discussing their next move, as they had been for days.  Some
of them wanted to try and advance while others among them thought they should
wait for the Scourge to make another move before they set out.  They agreed
that their enemy was weak and wounded, but there was a problem with rushing
directly after him.  They couldn’t
find
him.  Rifter had searched all
across the island, but had seen no sign of the Desdemona.

“You’d think his
ship wouldn’t be so hard to spot,” Finn said.

“He’s hiding
somewhere,” Nix pointed out.  “That’s nothing new.”

“But Rifter has
checked all the old places,” Toss insisted.

“You know how
the island changes.  Maybe he found a new place,” Sly suggested.

Rifter heard the
others talking, but he didn’t give a lot of attention to what they were going
on about.  He already had his mind set on what he was going to do.

I’m going to go
out there again and I’m going to find him.  Whatever it takes, I’m going to get
him.  Then I’m going to kill him.  I have to.

He’d have
already done it if he’d known where the man was.  He’d been searching the sea
on every day since they’d returned home, but he had seen no trace of the
Desdemona.  The Pack wanted Rifter to believe that the man had retreated from
the island again, but if that was so, he wouldn’t have still felt that hand of
darkness folding fingers around his heart.

He’s still out
there, plotting against me.  But he’s not laughing.  Not this time.

Rifter smiled as
he remembered the thrill of cutting off the man’s arm.  He wanted to cut him
again.  He thirsted for it.

I can’t sit
here.

Rifter stood up
abruptly and the others stopped what they were doing, giving him their
attention.

“I’m going back
out there,” he announced.

“Right now,
Rifter?” Toss asked after him, but he had already turned.

“I’m not going
to rest until he’s dead.”

“What if that
doesn’t solve it?” Sly blurted.  Rifter stopped just at the door and turned
slowly back to him.  For some reason, that had caught him by the ears.

“What?”

“What if killing
him makes something worse happen?” Sly asked, not fearing his leader’s glare. 
“Have you considered it?  What if it sends everything spiraling out of
control?”

Rifter rolled
his eyes.  He’d heard some of this before.

“You’re back on
that again?” he asked angrily, not wanting to hear anything that might deter
him from what he wanted.

“I know I don’t
have any evidence,” Sly admitted, “but you have to consider that there is some
sort of balance that might be impossible to disrupt!  Even if you kill him,
maybe that won’t—”

“Sly,” Rifter
interrupted, “you’ve been here a long time, but I’ve still been here longer
than you.  I think I know what’s best.”

None of them
said anything to that, and that was how he left them.  He went out through the
curtain and into the den, glancing toward the alcove in the wall where Whisper
had slept, and he had almost called for her to come with him before he realized
that she wasn’t there.

That’s right.  I
sent her away.  How long has it been?

He put his
fingers to the bridge of his nose, trying to think.  When the Scourge was
around, his memory was worse.  All his thoughts were muddled, consumed as he
was by his need for revenge.

When he looked
up, he saw that Wren was standing there, gazing at him.

He hadn’t been
giving much attention to her lately, and they had barely spoken since the
conversation they’d had in the woods.  She wanted to say things to him that he
didn’t want to hear; he could see that on her face now.  Maybe it would have
been nice if he could stop to hold her for a while.  He might lose an ounce of
his malice if he buried his face in her soft hair.  He just didn’t have time to
waste doing that.

They both stood
there, looking at each other until she broke the silence.

“You’re going
out?” she asked.

“I’m going to
look for him again,” he said, as if he had to explain himself to her.

She didn’t say
anything else, just looked at him with those blue eyes that had been so
accusing lately.  He couldn’t look at her anymore – not now.  He aimed to go,
but her voice stopped him.