by Lenore, Lani
Wren left her hiding place, following along after him. He didn’t seem to notice her, but as she crept closer, she got a better look. He was tall, fit and blond. She saw all of the weapons he carried.
A fog seemed to clear from her mind, revealing the answer. He was a figure from her past, no doubt. Her mind made these connections, and she was certain she knew him.
“Wait!” she called, and then cringed, aware of who she was speaking to.
He turned so quickly that her heart leapt into her throat – especially to see the long barrel of the gun that was aimed at her, steely and true. She held up her hands instinctively to show that she was no threat. He froze as he stared at her, and in that moment, she was able to examine him fully.
The boy – young man, rather – stared at her from beneath dusty blond hair which hung forward in his face. His fox-skin coat had a cascade of tails down the left side and was worn over a vest of armored hide, displaying muscular arms that were decorated with black markings. As far as she could tell, he had lost his left eye to a long scar that trailed down his face, but it did not completely mar his attractive features. The eye had rolled upward into his skull, milky and absent. The other eye that peered at her so coldly was blue.
He looks to be around my age. He aged as well; like Rifter said.
Surprise took over his face as he looked at her, and his aim faltered. It was recognition that she saw in his eyes. He knew her, and she felt she had been right about him as well. He looked so different now that she didn’t think she would have recognized him, save that this young man before her could only be Nix.
“Wren?” he asked finally, as if he didn't believe she was more than a mirage.
“Is it you, Nix?” she asked carefully.
He seemed to wince, lowering the gun as he peered at her with complete disbelief. He was too shocked to speak, and she knew she must have gotten it right. She began to feel joyous in her heart that she had found him – even if it was him.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, still holding the gun in his hand, but it was lowered now, loose in his grip.
“Rifter brought me here,” she told him, lowering her hands and clenching them at her sides. “He wanted me to find you. He says that it’s time to fight back.”
Nix looked concerned; this seemed to trouble him, though the notion was very faint on his expression. His blue eye darted in consideration like a pendulum weighing these facts and consequences.
“That’s impossible,” he muttered.
“It’s true,” she insisted. “He told me himself that he has a plan.”
“No, it’s impossible!” he snarled, turning away from her as if he could think more clearly without having her in his vision.
She was silenced by the force of his proclamation, watching his reaction. She had known Nix in the past and she kept those thoughts with her as she judged him now. He didn’t respond for several moments, and finally Wren had to draw his attention back.
“Then how do you explain my presence?” she asked, struggling to keep her voice level. She didn’t want to snap at him – not with that gun in his hand.
He stopped, and Wren could honestly say that she did not know how he would react. He had been volatile and moody in former days. Was he that way still?
“It must not really be you,” Nix said, his voice growing firmer as he accepted this new logic. He turned to lift his gun again. “You must be a nightmare. A trick. A mimic.”
Wren felt fear stirring inside her chest, believing Nix had never been a far cry from letting her die, or even killing her himself just to get her out of the way, and she believed that strongly enough that she was frightened – though not so much that she didn’t feel angry. She and Nix had never seen eye to eye, and the way he had once treated her rose up fresh in her mind.
“I’m not an illusion,” she said heatedly. “Rifter brought me back. He asked me to find you – all of you.”
“I told you: that’s impossible,” Nix continued to insist. “No, you’re not really here,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re an old memory, and those things don’t survive for long here.”
He turned away from her without firing a shot, willing to let her slip out of his mind, but Wren would not let him retreat. He put the gun away, and she dared to be brave, rushing forward to grab his arm. Nix halted at the firmness of her grip, staring down at her hands on his arm as if he couldn’t believe she was solid.
“Please, hear me out,” she entreated. “Rifter needs you all back together. He has a plan to fix things. He needs your help. Please, Nix…”
At that, his eye snapped to hers and he jerked his arm away.
“You saw him?” he asked pointedly.
“Yes, of course I saw him.”
Nix looked away, considering this. “He’s not still around, by chance?”
His voice was strange as he said it, but she could not interpret what his tone meant. She watched him peer up toward the branches that were burning against the darkening sky. Was he looking for Rifter?
“No,” she said honestly. “He left me.”
Had that dissatisfied him? She observed him as he continued to look around, then finally he turned back to her, silent.
“He said he needed all of you back together – that you would listen to me. He wants to meet with you at the ruins of the cliff-side Tribal camp.”
Nix stared at her with many emotions flashing across his countenance, and then raised his hand. He reached for her neck and she flinched, but remained still when she found that he had only wanted to touch her. His fingertips drifted toward her cheek, still not believing that she was real, but he suddenly snatched his hand away as if he’d been burned.
“I don’t owe him anything,” he said firmly, and that seemed to be the end of it. Wren could not let him say no, however.
“Nix…”
“You listen to me, Wren,” he started, his tone filled with anger, “that boy you thought you loved back then is gone. There’s nothing left. You’re wasting your time.”
He turned away again, and this time she thought he would leave her for good.
I can’t let him go. I can’t fail!
“No,” she argued forcefully. “He just needs help. I have to help him! You should too! You’re his brother!”
“Look around you!” he spat, whirling. “Do you really think this can be fixed?”
It was true that the land was in ruins. She had seen it – acknowledged it – yet she could not give up on the idea that it could be reversed. If Rifter said he knew a way, she had to believe him.
“Yes,” she said finally, but her voice sounded doubtful to her own ears.
Nix eyed her further, silently questioning her resolve.
“Then you really are foolish,” he declared. At that, Wren could not keep herself under control.
“I’m afraid!” she cried, her voice veering on the edge of a sob.
He didn’t respond immediately, staring at her, but she could not see him clearly for the tears that were forming in her eyes. She didn’t want him to see her cry. He was merciless.
“Everything is wrong! Rifter and demons and this darkness! I just want a family again! I don’t have anything left!”
Wren looked down, feeling uneasy on her feet. The rush of everything that had happened had drenched her like the sea. She could not allow her journey to end with his stubbornness! She winced. Her stomach was churning hotly.
I need to get a hold on myself.
“Look at me,” she heard Nix say. She allowed his voice to draw her back, lifting her watery eyes to his. He said nothing, but only observed the way she watched him until a familiar grimace twisted his mouth and he turned with a disgusted snort.
“Come on. Let’s go.”
“What?” She looked after him in surprise. Though she was pouring herself out to him, she hadn’t quite expected him to give in. He had never liked her – had always thought she was a burden.
“I can’t just leave you al
one out here, can I?” he asked. “Now come on. It’s getting late.”
Wren could only stare at him. Even with her pleading, it was more than she expected.
Bewildered but determined, she let him guide her through the burning trees.
2
Nix led the way as the woods crackled around them, golden as autumn with flickering orange hues. They were silent as they walked, and Wren wondered where he was taking her, but more importantly, whether it was safe to trust him. Maybe he was dangerous; or maybe he would not harm her for even a mound of pirate gold. She didn’t know. Despite whatever doubts she might have had, she told herself that she must not be timid.
“What of those wisps,” she asked just so there would be something between them. “They didn’t seem to be causing trouble. Were they bothering you?”
“I get rid of them when I can. They’re a hazard,” Nix insisted quickly, trudging onward. “The only good they can do for me is with their ashes.”
Wren remembered the ash. She had first seen it when Nix himself had presented it to her years ago. It was a magical substance that could replicate the effects of a fairy blessing – without having to deal with a disagreeable fairy. But to kill them in cold blood as he had…
They were living creatures, Wren thought. Did they deserve to die?
“What do you use all the ashes for?” she asked instead.
“For whatever I need,” he responded, “but most often to coat my weapons. It makes up for lost accuracy.”
Wren guessed he was talking about his lost eye. There were more words on her lips concerning the matter, but she managed to swallow them. She did not need to turn him against her so soon.
Rifter is counting on me.
Nix led her to a rocky cliff-side that had been scorched by the heat, and set in it was the opening of a cave. He did not hesitate to go inside.
As soon as Wren had entered behind him, she could feel the air change. It was cool within the cave and the smell of smoke was scarce. The walls were lined with what looked like ivy, but she couldn't tell for the darkness.
As they descended, Wren began to think that she remembered this place. She had been down this tunnel before years ago – one of so many that had led to the Wolf Pack’s den. It was strange to her that Nix had always been the wayward brother, and yet after everything had fallen apart, he had been the only one to return home.
“You still live in the underground,” she stated, surprised.
“I like to stay hidden,” he said, “and where’s the last place anyone would look?”
Though it seemed very sad to hear him say it, she had thought the same thing when coming into the burning woods. Years ago, the Scourge had flushed them out with fire, separating them from the place they had hidden for years. The den had been ruined and was no longer a secret in the sacred forest. Why would they have stayed? To anyone who might have been hunting him, it would make no sense.
It was possible that none of them could sleep if they weren’t holed up under the ground, since it was how they had done it for so long. Changing sleeping arrangements was hard. When she had first returned to the orphanage from this place, she hadn’t been able to sleep either.
I haven’t slept well since.
After a long journey down, the narrow path opened up to reveal the large room that had once been common to her. A lantern illuminated a part of the area, the overlapping shadows like forest foliage. The flickering light within and the curvature of the walls made her dizzy.
Wren could see that the stone hearth in the wall was still intact, but the room was devoid of the liveliness it once had. Animal and creature heads hung from the walls, their faces twisted in a disturbing manner. These were relics of a forgotten time.
Being in this familiar setting made her feel hopelessly nostalgic and sorrowful. Her eyes swept over the space, noting the spot where she had once prepared meals for them. She recognized Whisper’s grotto in the wall, the place on the floor where Finn had often fallen asleep, and the alcove higher up where Sly used to perch with his books.
All of that is over now.
She wasn’t aware that Nix was watching her until her eyes happened to land on him as she was gazing across the room. He was looking at the cut on her arm, which throbbed dully.
“You should clean that up,” he said offhandedly, and opened up his satchel to withdraw a cloth, which he dipped in a bowl of water before handing it to her.
She tried not to look in his eyes as she took it from him, but she couldn’t quite help it.
“Thank you,” she muttered, dabbing at the cut with the cool cloth. The wound was sore, but this gave her a bit of relief. She knew that it needed to be cleaned.
“This place seems so empty,” she commented. “But I guess, after everything, I’m surprised it’s still here.”
“It wasn’t all destroyed in the fire,” he said, taking off the layers of his weapons. “In fact, we returned here for a while after you were gone. We were able to salvage a lot of our equipment, and most of our belongings survived.”
“What happened in those days, Nix?” she asked.
He sighed, wouldn’t look at her.
“What did Rifter tell you?” he asked, kneeling to arrange some sticks in the hearth, preparing for a fire.
“He didn’t give me too many details,” she admitted, thinking back on it. “In the beginning, he told me that you all separated because it was too dangerous for you to stay together. He didn’t mention the demon. I don’t think he would have told me about it except that he had to.”
She heard a loud snap as Nix broke one of the twigs, hesitating a moment before he put the pieces in place.
“That surprises me too,” he said, but wouldn’t elaborate.
When a fire was lit in the hearth, venting through a hole near the roof of the cave, Nix sat down in a crudely-made chair. He took a pipe from within his coat, lit it, and then leaned back to look at Wren. She remembered him having this habit in the past, and she’d always found it inappropriate for a boy, but she said nothing against it now as a cloud of smoke drifted from his mouth and into the air.
“Sit,” he said, referring to a hammock that was strung up between two corners, likely his own bed.
Wren did as he bade, thoroughly grateful for the opportunity instead of standing around looking awkward. She seated herself carefully on the edge of the tiger skin, trying not to sink back into it.
For a long time, Nix stared at her. She looked back at him with equal interest, but though she greatly desired to ask him questions, his sharp eye kept her from it. She could tell he was thinking deeply by the way that he smoked, and if she had to guess, she would say that he was pondering her very existence. Wren did not dare to interrupt, concentrating on the curling tattoos on his arms and neck. She wondered if they were Tribal in design.
After a while, Nix was ready to engage her in conversation.
“Rifter brought you here, did he?” Nix pondered a moment. “So he’s still alive…”
Wren looked up at that. “You thought he was dead?”
“I told you he was gone,” he reminded her. “As good as dead, I guess. I haven't spoken to him in a long time. Nearly two years.”
“That long?” Wren did not know why she was surprised, but she was. The boys had fled earlier than Rifter had led her to believe.
“Yes,” he said distractedly. “I assumed he would have told you how it all happened, especially since he confessed about the demon.”
“He didn’t,” she said, leading on, hoping that Nix would speak further on the plot. He did not go on as well as she’d hoped.
“I was the first to leave when the time came,” he admitted to her, then his conversation seemed to drift away. “Yes, there were so many unanswered questions.”
He stopped there, and Wren leaned forward a bit to urge him on. “I have unanswered questions myself.”
He cut his eye at her, and she felt he had seen through her attempt to pry.
�
��We all questioned whose fault it really was,” he said.
Whose fault? Wren sat back, aghast. There was always rivalry between Rifter and Nix, but Wren hadn’t wanted to believe that there was a question of loyalty, or that any of them had ever doubted Rifter. If Rifter had told them that the corruption was caused by the Scourge, they would have believed him, wouldn’t they?
“You are not sure if Rifter is innocent?” she asked, disappointed. “But, he was your brother – your friend and ally! Yes, there is a demon within him, but he swears he controls it.”
“Brother or not,” Nix began dismissively, “he wasn’t himself anymore. We had to leave. There was no choice. He drove us away, despite what he says. We tried to stand by him but he was out of control. He let us all down. He deserves to be alone for all the trouble he caused. All of it is his fault. Anyone who doesn’t believe it is a fool.”
His sharp statement was pointed in her direction. Wren took it to the chest. She wanted to be sympathetic to Nix, but she was feeling so much hostility on Rifter’s behalf that she could not offer any such words.
“What are your feelings about the Scourge then? Could he not be just as guilty?” she asked, jumping to Rifter’s defense. “He killed the land just by steeping across it, and from what I’ve seen, that is exactly what this world looks like now. It is black and dead. How could it not be his doing? Really, it is very discouraging for you to have all these awful accusations against Rifter!”
“You really want to believe in him, don’t you?” Nix asked after a pause.
“I just can’t believe what you’re saying!”
“Maybe I’m wrong then,” he said snidely with a vicious smirk. “Maybe I made it all up. Maybe I wasn’t there to see it. Then again, my perception is a bit off these days.” Nix pointed to his blind eye, but Wren ignored his spiteful behavior.
“And you are so certain that you’re right?” she accused.
Nix sighed out a bit of smoke. He was silent now, though in the past she was sure that he would have exploded. Perhaps time truly had changed him. It was clear to her then that he did not want to fight.