Nevermor Page 7

  —and Wren woke up again. Had she been asleep? She hadn’t remembered passing out. It seemed she had only just rolled over.

  Am I real right now?

  She sat up, looking around the room. The beds were still full of sleeping children and it was dark outside the window. Rifter hadn’t come, and once again she questioned herself. Had she been wrong?

  She came to attention when she saw a light pass by the doorway. It reminded her very much of the floating ethereal light that she had seen before, hovering around Rifter.

  Had he come for her? Wren pulled herself off the bed quietly, stepped into her thin slippers and moved toward the door. She thought of waking her brothers, but she wanted to be sure first. There was no sense in crying wolf. If it was only Miss Nora passing down the hall with a lantern after looking in on them, Henry might never take her seriously again.

  Stepping into the hall, she saw the light slipping away around the corner toward the stairs. She wanted to call out for Rifter but she was afraid to. If it wasn’t him, then she would have been revealing herself, leaving the other to wonder who she was calling for, and she was still much too close to the dormitory. She might wake the others if she spoke.

  Wren took careful steps through the dark, approaching the yellow glow, though it continually edged away, just out of her sight. Just like on the ocean. Once she had passed down to the first floor of the home, the light had vanished, but she felt a little more certain that she wouldn’t be heard here.

  “Hello?” she called lowly. She kept still and listened. She thought, for a moment, that she had heard a quiet whisper, but she seemed to be alone.

  I’m not alone. There is someone here.

  She took a few steps toward the common room, the boards creaking beneath her feet. It was cold, and the floor was stiff and aching. There was no fire in the hearth downstairs, the coals having burned down long ago. It was too dark, and so she reached for the sideboard to strike a match and ignite one of the gaslights on the wall – and just as the light flared up to a dull glow, she saw a movement.

  She gasped, for though she knew she was not alone, she had not quite expected it. What she had seen was a flicker of a shadow across the wall, darting away just quickly enough to catch her attention. She wondered if she should have been afraid, but her heart had made the decision for her. It was pulsing steadily.

  Was it a shadow? Perhaps it was a mimic?

  “Is that you, Rifter?” she asked in a loud whisper – and immediately she was caught from behind. A dark hood was slipped over her head, blinding her, and a hand clamped across her mouth to muffle her protests. She tried to fight, but strong arms held her and she could not break free. Soon, however, she heard a voice near her ear that made her stop.

  “Shhhh,” the soft voice hushed her. “We’ll be there before you know it.”

  After that, the passing whispers of some strange lullaby clouded her mind, sending her into a deep sleep.

  Chapter Six

  1

  From the treetops, watchful eyes were sweeping the forest in Rifter’s absence. All had been quiet since he’d left, and the woods were peaceful for now. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves and the growling of beasts was distant. Nix had hidden himself well in the branches, his bow ready in case of trouble, but he was also prepared with his blade and pistol in case a larger battle presented. All he had done tonight was wait, however. He would do so until Rifter returned.

  Nix didn’t mind the quiet. He was a loner and appreciated his solitude when he could get it, which was never as often as he’d like. Despite the pleasure he took in being alone, tonight was different from most of his hunts. He was waiting for what Rifter would bring them. They all were.

  He should have been back by now…

  “Rifter should be back soon.” The quiet voice had come out of nowhere, so close to his ear that he was shaken within, but he didn’t move a muscle.

  “Damn it, Sly,” he scolded flatly. Nix was always amazed by how quiet his brother could be. Sly could move through the trees like no one else, but his small stature could be thanked for that, for without it, he may not have been much nimbler than Nix himself.

  “Did I sneak up on you, Nix?” Sly asked, a self-satisfied smile in his voice.

  “Of course I knew you were there,” Nix assured him. “But you’re supposed to be on the other side of the path.”

  “It’s quiet,” Sly said as if it was an apology. “Rifter will return soon. I was thinking of going back.”

  It was wrong of Rifter to make them wait like this. Nix wasn’t worried that something had happened to him, but if Rifter was going to be gone longer than expected, he might have told them so in the beginning – or at least sent Whisper back to let them know. But Rifter always did what Rifter wanted, and that was all.

  “Not me,” Nix said. “I want to get a first look at what he brings back.”

  “If anything,” Sly said smugly. “How many nights has it been? But suit yourself.”

  Sly was gone as silently as he’d approached, sounding like the wind in the branches – as light as a squirrel scratching at the bark. Nix knew it was getting late, and the later it got, the more serious the threat of nightmares became, but he would stay here until he saw the familiar beacon that would signify the return of his brother.

  Alone once again, he settled back into the shadows to wait.

  2

  Wren couldn’t say how long she had slept, but she knew that she had drifted in and out of sleep, back and forth for a long time. When she would open her eyes, she could see only darkness, and she remembered the hood that covered her face. Her body, during that time, was limp and she felt completely weightless, as if floating on water, letting the current push her along. At times it was hard to breathe, which would lead her to pass out again. This repeated until she woke up to find that the hood was gone from her head. Finally, once again, she could see.

  The night sky was above her, twinkling with so many stars. The ground beneath her was solid, and she brushed her hand against it, feeling the textured surface. It was stone. She could hear the waves rushing in and out, and she smiled to herself as she sat up.

  Wren looked out over the sand and the sea, and it was even more beautiful than she had remembered.

  I made it! I’m here! Her heart was filled with joy – but she didn’t understand why she was alone.

  Rifter?

  Her brow creased as she remembered him, knowing that he had brought her here, but he didn’t seem to be nearby. She looked to both sides, but the answer was clear. She was alone. He had put her down on a slab of rock and left her on the beach. Was this how he intended for it to be? He had brought her here and now expected her to fend for herself?

  But why not? It wasn’t as though he owed her anything. He didn’t even know her, after all.

  Where were Henry and Max? She knew the answer to that before she’d even thought of it. Rifter hadn’t brought them here; it was only her. Maybe he had gone back after them now? She supposed that was all she could hope for until she saw the boy again.

  Wren slid off the rock, standing there a moment as her feet recognized the earth. Her legs were a bit wobbly after her flight, but once she had decided they wouldn’t cave beneath her, she dared to take a step. She looked around, but she was unsure of where to start. She had been excited to come here, but now it all seemed very lonely and desolate.

  I hope Rifter comes back, she thought. She didn’t want to be alone. She wasn’t sure she could survive by herself, even if she did have fantastic ideas for tree houses and huts by the sea.

  She walked down the beach a short piece, resolving not to go very far just in case he came back to look for her. Even if she was alone in the night, she couldn’t deny how good it felt just to be outside in the fresh air. She couldn’t remember the last time she had filled her lungs with clean, untainted air. She wondered if her body knew what to do with it.

  Henry and Max will like it here.

  Wren walked
leisurely, stepping down to the water to let her feet play in the surf. She held up the end of her dress and watched as her feet sank deeper when the waves came in and pulled the sand out from around them. She stood there for a while, but still she was alone.

  Deciding that she wasn’t gaining anything by this, she walked a little farther. Was it best to keep going? Was he coming back at all? Where would the land take her if she kept following the line of the beach?

  Wren walked along, but was quickly gripped by a strange notion. Someone was following behind her.

  She caught her breath, standing very still, halting in step. As soon as she had, she began to second-guess herself. Maybe she shouldn’t have stopped. Instead, she should have kept going as if nothing was amiss, but it was too late. In fear of the thick presence, imagining that it was coming closer to her as she stood there, directly behind her and aiming to swallow her up, she turned around with a chill. There was no one.

  But there was a shadow on the ground.

  It was the figure of a person, and Wren had assumed it to be the shadow of a flying boy. She felt relieved and looked up, expecting to see Rifter flying there with his shadow cast on the ground, but he wasn’t. It baffled her that the shadow was alone, unattached, but she suddenly understood what she was looking at. Rifter had told her about this before.

  A mimic – it attaches to a host. I don’t want that thing near me.

  The idea didn’t suit her. She turned as if she could distance herself from it, but it followed, slithering toward her like a snake.

  No! Before she knew it, she had started running, holding her skirt as she tried to keep her footing on the sand. Looking back, she saw that the thing had come up off the ground to pursue her, standing on the same plane after making itself appear corporeal. It looked like a human body with arms and legs, but it had no distinguishing features to say whether it was male or female, beautiful or hideous. Maybe that was what frightened her most about it, or perhaps it was the simple fact that it was chasing her down, and it was coming on fast.

  Wren didn’t have much hope of getting away. The shadow-thing was upon her before she’d gotten far, grasping for her with arms that were like the wind. She was surprised when she fell, but couldn’t say whether she’d tripped or if the thing had pushed her down.

  She shrieked and rolled over, panicking as she tried to fight off what wasn’t really there. She tried to focus on the dark being, but it was black and full like the deepest night, and it was only an outline – a hint of a person. She could feel its cold hands grabbing for her, however.

  As soon as it touched her, the dark thing took shape – her shape. She was holding its hands as it held hers, and she could see her own curls tossing about as the thing fought with her. Wren couldn’t get away from it – couldn’t kick it off. The dark shadow didn’t make a sound as Wren groaned and flailed. It didn’t scream as she did.

  She kicked at it, causing a terrible fuss, and finally managed to flip it over onto the ground, where it promptly flattened against the sand. Its hands met her hands, its knees against her knees, and it was stuck. It had formed to her.

  “No,” Wren objected with clenched teeth, clawing at the sand, but it did nothing except distort the blackness of the shadow. It was still there. It wasn’t going anywhere at all – except where she went.

  She could feel her heart beating furiously, thudding against her chest. Wren felt an unusual dizziness as her head began to swim. She couldn’t keep herself from blacking out.

  Wren rolled over onto the sand and the mimic did the same, mocking her as she fainted.

  3

  What was real? Was any of it happening?

  Wren was exhausted from her fight with the shadow, and yet still it had won. She could see it stretched out beside her when she opened her eyes, elongated against the ground. She could barely keep her eyes open this time – So tired – but it was the sound of an unfamiliar voice that shook her awake.

  “I think it’s alive.”

  “Is it a dreamer or a wanderer?”

  Wren was feeling groggy, though she wasn’t sure if it was from lack of sleep or the absence of mental clarity. Her head was heavy, and she couldn’t quite sit up.

  “I think she’s real.”

  She felt the sharp tip of a boot nudge her in the ribs, and she groaned as she rolled over. The moon was large as ever, but the darkness of the night did not allow her to see more than a shadow standing over her.

  Another mimic? No, this one had features that she could scarcely see. She noticed the folds of his clothes and his strands of dirty hair.

  “Well, aren’t you a pretty thing,” he observed.

  “Rifter?” she asked, though it didn’t sound like Rifter. The voice was rough, the accent crude. Another figure appeared, stepping up to join the first as they examined her.

  “Did she just say something about the Rifter?” the other man asked.

  “Ohhh I get it. He’s finally wised up and got ‘imself a lady. Too much time with sticks an’ pebbles would make even a boy go crazy.”

  She heard a round of wicked laughter.

  “I think, you know, since he’s left her here, he must be done with her. Wot say we give her a try?”

  What?

  Wren was aware enough to know what that meant. She saw a hand stretching out toward her, reaching for the neck of her gown, but she managed to swat it away with a sharp slap.

  “Oh-ho-ho! I think there’s some fight left in her!” The man seemed amused and pleased at the same time.

  Wren pulled herself up as if she’d been shocked. She didn’t need more motivation than this. She staggered back, and now she could see them a bit better in the pale moonlight. They were men – all much older than she was. Their skin was dark and weathered, though she could not make out any distinct features. She could see, however, that they were all carrying weapons, and there were more than two of them. There were, perhaps, at least five, but she was too panicked to count.

  They smelled unusual, like weeks-old stink coated with something else, and eventually she realized that it must have been the too-sweet stench of liquor. She was not entirely oblivious to it. The Devil at the factory had often smelled of it.

  “She’s so fresh,” one of them said. “Looks so innocent, don’t she?”

  “I found her first. I get first turn to ruin her.”

  Run! Her brain urged her on, but it took a moment for her body to react. Wren turned on her heel and tried to speed away. She had kept herself untouched for years, and she wasn’t going to let this happen now.

  She had only just turned when she ran directly into another of those men who had slipped up behind her.

  “Whoa! Not gonna stay fer the fun?” He chuckled darkly at her, like rocks grating together. His breath was putrid in her face, his teeth rotten, and she turned away as he leaned in to try and kiss her. “Come on; don’t be a little bitch…”

  Where was Rifter? She remembered what he had told her – that she was unable to be hurt if she was a dreamer – but she didn’t think she would be so fortunate now that she was here in physical form.

  “Migh’ as well pretend to enjoy it,” the man hissed into her ear. He was squeezing her arms so tightly that she thought each of his fingers might leave an individual bruise. The others were approaching behind her, and soon there would be too many holding her down. She couldn’t hope to get away.

  Who are these men? Where did they come from? Wren didn’t care quite as much as she wanted to get away from them.

  “Go ahead and squirm a bit if you want. I do like a fighter. Jus… What the hell?”

  Wren dared to look, seeing that the man had now lifted his eyes to peer over her head. The ruffian tensed, his eyes rounding in fear.

  “It’s him!”

  A moment later, Wren was shoved to the ground, completely forgotten as the man reached for his gun, but before he’d even managed to withdraw it, a red line was drawn across his throat and he fell to the sand beside her, cle
nching his neck as blood flooded over his fingers.

  He made strange gurgling sounds, his eyes bulging – and Wren was too horrified to even scream.

  She crawled away from him as well as she could across the shifting sand, but once she had distanced herself she could see what was happening. The men who had confronted her all had their weapons drawn, and in the midst of them, there was a young man in a coat of leaves, and he was too swift for any of them to comprehend.

  Wren tried to keep track of what was going on, but she had a hard time following it, even though she had a clear view of the spectacle.

  One man reached for his blade but he didn’t manage to pull it from the sheath before Rifter had hit the end of it with his own hand and forced it back inside. The man looked stunned and tried again, but Rifter leapt into the air – unnaturally high – and kicked him squarely in the chest, knocking him to the ground.

  At nearly the same time, another managed to fire a shot from his pistol, and though it was loud, it hit nothing. He had not even lowered the barrel when Rifter had appeared beside him in a flash, grabbed the man’s arm and hit it with the hilt of his own sword in such a way that the bone cracked. Wren clenched her teeth together when she heard that sound, but she was so absorbed that she could not turn away.

  A cry of pain had just erupted from his throat before Rifter spun around and lopped off the man’s head in one motion.

  Wren saw the dark mass of it fly back through the air – heard it hit with a thud against the sand – but she couldn’t look. She shut her eyes and refused to watch the rest.

  I can’t… I can’t see this!

  She kept her head pressed against her knees until the gurgling screams were silent and the last body had fallen – until all she could hear was the sound of the waves rolling in. Everything was settled. All was quiet once again.

  “I leave you alone for a couple of minutes and you’ve already gotten yourself in trouble. It’s going to be a lot of fun having you around.”