Nevermor (64 page)

Fang had fallen.

They saw Wren
drop over the edge and watched as Rifter went after her, but they did not fear
for her safety.  They only saw the one that had fallen.  He was one of theirs,
and though he hadn’t been with them for very long, he was not any less
important than the rest of them.  When one of them fell, a little piece of
their souls went with him.

They were
seething with rage.  They could always find the pleasure in danger no matter
what Rifter dragged them into, but the death of their own was something that
none of them handled well.  It broke their hearts and chipped away at their
sanity.

They had
disposed of the wolves, and now, as they stood staring at that dark man with
anger and hate, the boys did something they never had before.  They turned all
of their ranged weapons on the Scourge, roaring in fury as they sent bullets
and arrows toward him, each one for the dead.

Rifter had
forbidden them to do this in the past, but things were different now.  It
wasn’t Rifter’s game anymore.  Now that they knew the Scourge wasn’t just some
skilled man – he was a nightmare monster like the rest – they were no longer so
afraid.  They had faced hundreds like him.  He was no different to them
anymore.

The boys had
their anger, but that did not help the effort to harm their great adversary. 
Their bullets ripped holes in his flesh and passed straight through without
staggering him.  Their arrows buried into him, protruding from his body, but
they did not seem to hurt him.  The wounds resealed and he was made whole
again.

The Scourge was
not deterred by their attacks, even with the way they had unloaded so many
rounds into him.  He walked forward to stand in their midst, splattered with
his own blood, and though they closed a circle around him, they gave him a wide
berth, still unwilling to get too close.

“He’s gone after
the girl,” the Scourge said.  “Now you all see who he’s chosen first.  He’s
left you with me – all of you at my mercy.  Which one of you is brave enough to
stand against me in his stead?  Hm?”

The man’s eyes
locked on Nix, and inside him, the boy felt his heart speed.  Still, he looked
down the barrel of his gun and didn’t budge.

“Perhaps
you
would like to,” the Scourge suggested.

He took a step
toward Nix, and the boy didn’t move away, even though he wanted to.  He held
his ground.  The Scourge smiled.

“He doesn’t know
what he has in you, does he?” the man asked him.  “But he will soon.  Soon,
he’ll know what your insides look like!”

The Scourge was
too quick to fathom.  Nix fired his gun, but it had no effect.  The man was
beside him in an instant, gripping his arm and striking it so that the bones
cracked loudly.

Nix groaned and
went to his knees, and the others didn’t know what to do.  Were they to stand
back and let their brother be killed?  But if they came forward, they would be
surrendering their lives.

What was
brotherhood worth?  What was death when there was something worth fighting for?

It was Toss who
went at the enemy first, swinging the heavy hammer, but it only took the effort
of one hand for the Scourge to knock the boy off his feet.  Toss was propelled
backward and landed heavily on the deck.  The others didn’t move.

“Wait your
turn,” the Scourge ordered.  “I’ll get to each of you.”

He gripped Nix
by the throat, squeezing harshly against his windpipe.  The boy tried to fight,
but he was weakened by his pain – or perhaps it was the evil one’s cold stare.

“Despite our
differences, you were always my favorite,” the Scourge told him, and he saw
that Nix did not understand.

The Scourge
tightened his grip, preparing to break the boy’s neck – but Rifter crashed down
onto the boards behind him, within the circle the Pack had formed.  He had the
girl in tow, and the Scourge couldn’t say he was surprised, even though he
hadn’t intended for it to happen this way.  He had meant to kill the boys, but
Rifter had come back too soon.

Smiling, he let
Nix go.  If he could kill the Rifter now, none of that would matter.

Rifter put the
girl down but didn’t take his eyes off his enemy as he passed Wren off to the
others.

“Take her and
get out of here,” he commanded them.

“We’re not
leaving you!” Finn protested on behalf of them all, but Rifter wouldn’t hear of
it.

“Go!  Before the
blessing wears off.”

It was with
reluctance that they did as he asked.  Toss carried Wren, who was still lost in
her sorrow, and they took to the air, flying away from the battle and from the
volcano that the mountain had become.

Rifter kept his
eyes on the Scourge until the others had gone to be sure that he didn’t move
against them.

“You killed one
of mine,” Rifter accused, narrowing his eyes.

The Scourge
stood there, closing his own eye for a moment, his brow furrowing as he
concentrated.  He ignored Rifter for a time, and then he seemed to snap awake,
aware of his enemy again.

“It wouldn’t be
the first time,” he said.  “You shouldn’t put them in my path if you don’t want
me to kill them.”

That was what he
had to say for himself?  Then again, how could Rifter have expected any better
than that?

I know the truth
now.  Time to end it.

Rifter lifted
his sword – the one he had stolen from his enemy – and directed it his way.

“It’s just you
and me now,” he said forebodingly.  “No one else in the way.  No more
distractions.”

“Yes, just us until
it’s over,” the Scourge agreed, drawing his second sword, meeting the steel of
his rival’s blade.  “As it began, so shall it
end
!”

3

The Pack landed
safely beyond the base of the mountain, but that was as far as the blessing
would take them.  They had felt gravity pulling them down as the spell lost its
potency, and they were forced to land.  The boys were out of harm’s way, though
they felt guilty for it.  This was what Rifter had told them to do, however. 
Therefore, it was their only choice.

They took a
moment to regroup.  Wren was still crying, a shell of herself.  Finn and Toss
tried to console her but she wouldn’t respond to them.  Nix made a tourniquet
for his broken arm as the twins counted their arrows.  Sly, with his scope,
continued to watch the mountain range erupt.

They didn’t have
much to say to each other in the wake of the tragedy, though each of them knew
they would not leave this spot until Rifter returned to them.  They wanted to
believe that their faith in him was strong – he would be able to kill the
Scourge again, and perhaps for good this time – but the clouds of doubt had
rolled in, and they would only retreat with Rifter’s return.

They would have
to see it to believe it.

“What if he
doesn’t come back?” Mech asked finally when none of the others would.

“He will,” Nix
insisted, swallowing his pain.

The others
didn’t say anything to that.  They would wait.  They would force themselves to
believe it until they had reason to think otherwise.

“It’s not over
yet,” Sly said suddenly.  There was a tremor in his voice and they all heard
it.

The boys raised
their heads toward the flow that was slithering down from the mountain, and
they saw what was coming for them.  From out of the lava, shadows had begun to
rise up in the shapes of men.  They were alive, but attached to nothing, lone
warriors that had once taken the forms of shadows riding on men’s backs.

They were
mimics, and there were dozens of them.  It was an army.

For several
moments, the boys only stared, marveling, and then they knew.  These were the
shadows of those that the Scourge had killed – even his own crew that he had
hanged from the ship.  Perhaps those men had killed themselves simply because
he had asked, but it didn’t matter.  He had an army that he could control, and
there were only a handful of them.  It seemed he was bent on killing them all
this time.  The way the odds looked now, he might get his wish.

“What do we do?”
Toss asked, as he and Finn both stood up to shield Wren.  “Should we run?”

They looked at
each other, as if one would know what they should do better than the next. 
Finally it was Nix, who stood there staring at the horde, who answered.

“Rifter would
never let us run,” he said finally.  “Not if it had anything to do with
protecting this world.”

The rest of them
knew that he was right.  Ahead of them, the shadow army was moving down the
mountain in front of the lava spill, hurrying on feet that did not touch the
earth.  They were coming, rushing in to tear them apart before moving on to the
rest of the world.

“We’re supposed
to let them come into our world and take it?”  Nix drew his sword, which was
the only weapon he could use effectively with one hand.  “We fight until the
end of it, and then, well, I guess we won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Behind them,
Wren watched, and words that Henry had spoken to her came up in her mind.

We have to
survive, and at least we know that if we die, it will be because we were
fighting for our own way.

Looking on at
them, she understood it now.  Finally, she knew why they had to fight.  She knew
why Henry had stood up to protect her, and though he had lost his life, it was
as he’d said.  This didn’t kill the pain, but she looked on at it with new
eyes.  She couldn’t blame Rifter anymore – not any of them.

The boys did the
only thing that their pride would allow.  They took their weapons up again and
prepared themselves to fight – and if need be, to die.  If they didn’t stand up
for what was theirs, who else would do it?  The group stood their ground as the
army of mimics rushed onward – and then they were all aware of a presence
behind them.

The boys turned
their faces to look, and there in the brush along the tree line stood a small
army of Tribal warriors.  They were decorated in their feathers and paint,
armed with bows and spears and knives.

At the forefront
of them, there was a female with a great feathered headdress, standing proudly
to lead them.

The group had
followed them to the mountain.  They had known what was coming.

Nix knew this
most of all as his eyes settled on Calico.  She had told him that they would
need help, and this was what she had meant.  The others were amazed that the Tribals
had come to aid them, but they had never been so pleased to see those savage
people.

Calico lifted
her weapon and let loose a fierce battle cry that the others joined into.  At
that, they rushed forward to meet the shadow army.  The Pack bled into the
group, and the entire lot of them went fearlessly off to battle.

It wasn’t long
before the shadows had crashed in, enveloping them like a black sea.  Finn and
Toss kept Wren between them strategically as they fought through the mass.  The
rest held their own, battling with the creatures that fought without weapons. 
There were still many more of them than the Wolf Pack and Tribals together, but
they all knew they would fight until none were left standing.  It was what they
had to do.

It was for
Nevermor.

4

With a last
clang of their blades, Rifter slumped to the deck, breathless.  He used the
sword to help hold him up, never taking his eyes off his enemy.  The Scourge
was hardly winded at all, still on his feet, looking down at Rifter with a
smile on his mouth.  They had been fighting hard.  How was he not spent?

Because he's not
real.  He's a figment of my imagination
.  Yet when he blinked, the man was
still there.

"Get
up," the Scourge urged him.  "I thought we were fighting."

Rifter didn't
budge.

"I said
move
!"

From out of nothing, the Scourge withdrew a long black whip with
spiky barbs, and lashed out at Rifter.  He might've been tired from swinging
his sword, but he was still nimble enough to dart out of the way.  The end of
the whip smacked the deck, hard, dragging across the planks, but Rifter was not
in its path.

He was not so lucky the second time.  The whip locked around his
calf, latching into his clothes and cutting his flesh.  He roared for the pain
and turned to fight it off, but with a jerk, the Scourge had spun him in the
air, flinging him back against the cabin wall as if he weighed nothing.

Rifter hit the wall with force and fell to the floor.  He winced,
gripping his leg which was sliced with several long, spiraling cuts, but he
knew that he couldn’t let that weaken him.  When he looked up, the whip was
coming at him again. 
Move!
  He twisted out of the way as the heavy
shadow-chain hit the wall, splintering the wood.

This was not how the battle was supposed to happen, nor was it how
it usually played out.  Rifter had never been so beaten down by his enemy – by
anything he’d faced in this world!  He was typically able to paint himself with
victory.  This time, the lines of blood drawn across his body were his own.