by Lenore, Lani
She rested on the ground with the ropes cutting into her wrists, in ruin; a former princess of her people, shamed. She had been beaten and violated by more faces than she could count, but through it all, she was not conquered.
All Calico could think of was escaping her captors and giving back to them as they had given to her – with death.
She was perhaps the only one that remained alert and untainted by liquor in the whole of the settlement at Bleed Neck Bay. These were nothing but castaways – pirates that had been abandoned by their ships, left for the nightmare monsters to feast on as the others had retreated to the sea years ago. Pathetic as they were, they had still managed to catch her. Calico did not know how she had let it happen, but here she was, and she had been tied here for more than a day with nothing to eat or drink except the rum that was spit onto her face. Her purpose in coming here was not to be captured by the likes of these wretched, aimless men. She would free herself somehow. And then…
The morning was still quiet, though a few of her captors had begun to stir. Doubtless, they would immediately turn to their drinking – they would suck it down until it was gone and then they would go mad with the heat.
Sitting there, Calico began to carefully shift in her bonds, searching for weakness. If any time might have been perfect for making her escape, this was it, but she had only just begun her effort when she heard shuffling footsteps behind her.
A pirate smelling of week-old stink with wobbly legs and shifty eyes leaned down over her where she sat, but she did not acknowledge him. Her mind was busy with more important things. When she did not look up, he spit out tobacco juice across her neck where it ran into her open shirt.
“Ye know,” he started, kneeling down before her and nearly falling straight over onto his ass, “I’m sure we’d be –erm – nicer to ye if ye was ta tell us about that d-ss-irty, wretched Rifter. I bet ye know where he is, don’ ye, darlin’? I bet ye’r jus another o’ his whores!”
The pirate grinned proudly to himself, refusing to see that she was not amused. She made no response, even though she understood his butchered English, and the scalawag before her eventually lost his humor.
“Mouff like a steel trap, eh? Fine then. Keeps it to yersef. An’ er we ta believe all thet shite about him corruptin’ this place? Bah! I ain’t ne’er been better, meself!”
Calico shut out the man’s boisterous proclamations. She turned her face from him to move from the range of his putrid breath. As she did, she was certain that she saw some movement off in the trees. It was not the hindered, drunken movements of a buccaneer, but a swift movement of withdrawal from sight. Someone was there? Someone who could see to her rescue? Her dark eyes came alive.
Behind her back, her hands began to struggle within the ropes. Whether the lurker in the trees was here for her or only to stir up trouble with the pirates, she knew her moment of escape was nigh, and she would take advantage of it.
3
Wren may have heard the others speak of the bay in detail before; she couldn’t quite recall. Perhaps she’d never had a proper image formed in her mind, but as she and Nix approached, she could see the pirate settlement begin to take shape.
The cove was not expansive, instead consisting of a few rickety buildings positioned on boardwalks that led out toward the water where ships could be docked. Many of the buildings were missing parts of their roofing, all but to the point of falling in completely. Some had been patched with sails and other pieces of ship wreckage just to keep them from falling over.
One thing she could see clearly was that the settlement was not deserted.
Lanterns on posts were lighting the paths across the walkways, and smoke rose from a few of the chimneys. There were not many men stumbling around the rotten buildings of Bleed Neck, even though it was nearing noon, but once Wren had gotten closer, the pirates had slipped from her concern as her worry was transferred elsewhere.
They did not have to be within the settlement area to notice the captured Tribal girl who was plainly displayed in the center of things, tied to a gallows in the middle of the camp.
What have they done to her? Wren decided that she might not like to know.
“That poor girl,” she said quietly in a sympathetic tone.
She and Nix were hiding low, a safe distance away, observing the state of the place. She felt terrible toward this, suddenly much too awake to feel her weariness.
“I do believe I know her.” Nix’s voice chilled her. “I’m going to take a closer look. Stay here.”
She nodded and watched him creep off silently through the trees, waiting until he was gone before she ventured to peer back toward the Tribal maiden. There was something that seemed familiar about the girl, wasn’t there? Suddenly a thought of recognition came over her – accompanied by a wave of jealousy.
I do believe I know her as well.
A soft whisper reached her ears, breaking her free of her thoughts. She turned to see Nix, summoning her closer. She made her way, staying as low as she could, trying to creep as quietly as he had, but her gown brushed the dead leaves.
“It’s as I thought,” he told her. “I can see that it’s Calico.”
Calico… Wren felt a sharp pain – the memory of a knife in her back.
Wren had mixed feelings about this young savage, but had no trouble remembering her. She had been a source of trouble and pain; an instant rival. But despite the past, Wren’s conscience would not allow her to turn a blind eye. The Tribal girl was in trouble. Times had changed, and by now Wren had certainly learned that. She wanted to help. She did, however, wonder about Nix.
Nix had his gaze affixed on the bound girl, but Wren could not tell what he was thinking. Was there any emotion in his eyes?
“We can’t just leave her,” she said quietly as if he needed to be swayed. She knew it was a bit pointed, but wasn't able to retract it in time. His singular eye looked to her rather disappointedly.
“I’m not that cold-hearted, Wren.”
She suddenly felt like apologizing, but could not force herself. “What will we do then?”
He shook his head. “I see several pirates, but they all seem to be either drunk or unconscious. Then again, I do have you here. Can’t risk your safety for this.”
“But she is the one in danger!” Wren protested. “You would put one life over another so swiftly?”
“You are much more important to me than she is,” he said, and Wren was shocked to silence. What a statement to come from his mouth!
“Any one of the others would take that into account as well,” he said as if to clear himself of the declaration.
Though his words had nearly taken the breath out of her, Wren softened a bit. She was ready to do what he instructed.
Nix spent several moments observing the scene and Wren copied him, taking in what she might. A swaying pirate had leaned down and spoken something to Calico, but he was soon on his way again. Aside from that man, there were not many others around, save for a few who were asleep against the buildings for lack of better lodgings. Though the way was relatively clear, Wren could not see herself tiptoeing out into the open, but perhaps Nix would be a better contender.
He’s gone into danger before. Once, he’d pulled her out of a nightmare’s den. She had never known why he had done that either.
She looked toward him now, seeing what she might learn from his features, and she saw his face light up suddenly as a notion took hold.
“I have an idea,” he said finally.
Wren nodded, awaiting his instruction, but what he told her to do was not quite what she’d expected.
“Stay low and wait here. This might take some time.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked after him, but his mind was already wrapped around his plan.
“When it happens, you’ll know,” he said vaguely, rising up. “And be ready to run if you have to.”
Chapter Ten
1
Wren waited for a long time, c
rouched low in the bushes, wondering when Nix would return. She didn’t like being alone, but everything had been quiet around her, even with the bay so close. Still, that did not quite excuse him from leaving her here.
Did he leave me on purpose? Where did he go?
As she waited there, she kept a close eye on Calico, who was very subtly twisting in her bonds, but with no luck. Wren watched her, thinking at one moment of how she despised the Tribal princess and then feeling guilty for it the next.
Time had passed, yet it had not erased the memory of Calico’s lips on Rifter all those years ago. Sitting there, Wren began to feel the heat of jealousy, but she lowered her head to hold it down.
A long time has passed since then, she reminded herself.
Wren tried to turn her thoughts to other things, but they only returned to Nix. What was he planning? And why was it taking so long? Around her, the bay was coming to life. She could hear voices and see more movement as the pirates began to amble about. The longer Nix waited to take action, the more of their enemies would be stirring.
If we don’t act soon we’ll lose our chance!
She turned her head, casting her eyes over the area with a sigh, reminding herself that she could not risk a rescue on her own.
She had no sooner told herself to relax when something unusual caught her eye. The movement of a dark shape had flicked past, stealing her attention. There, displayed against a large rock, she saw something she had not expected to see. There was a shadow against the stone, affixed in the daylight, and Wren did not have to consider before she had recognized it.
The shadow was her own, yet there was something more: it was a reflection of her former self, as she had been four years ago when she had left Nevermor. To see it was a shock, but Wren was nearly overwhelmed with happiness. If she could have rushed over and hugged that shadow, she might have done it, but she did not forget what it really was. She did not forget the night that it chose her – when she had fought with it so savagely, only to lose.
Cautiously, Wren rose up to approach the mimic, knowing that she should leave it alone, but she could not quite keep herself away.
It’s my shadow. It has my shape. It needs me. We need each other!
She moved closer to the rock, and the shadow of her younger self did not move. She searched it for a sign – anything that might indicate that it wanted to come back and be one with her again – placing her hand against the rock. Finally, she got a response.
The shadow reached up, touching her hand for just a moment, and it changed shape, reforming to match what she had become. Wren was able to see how she had changed four years in just a matter of seconds. She saw how she had gotten just slightly taller, how her hair had grown, her curls less voluminous. She witnessed how her frame had matured, and finally how her shoulders were drooped in perpetual despair.
I didn’t know I had changed so much.
She tried to somehow make a connection with the shadow, as if to welcome it back to herself, but the mimic was done with her. It did not wish to be tied down, and just after it had assumed her new shape, it dashed away into the trees and was gone.
Wren watched it go, helpless to stop it, saddened to think that even her shadow had deserted her. It had used her up and banished her from its presence, and Wren couldn’t help thinking, in that moment, how much this made sense.
2
Through the trees past the bay, Nix stepped forward at a steady pace. A clear view of the forest was before him, and though the fact that it did not burn and smolder was a change, this served him well now. He’d come away from Bleed Neck, distancing himself from Wren as much to protect her as to be sure she did not hinder him. What he planned to do was not mere child’s play.
But Nix was not afraid.
Around his neck, he wore a short whistle made from the slender bones of a fairy wisp. It was light and airy, once used by a Tribal shaman. Nix was well aware of the effect it could have on the creatures of the world – and a particularly useful one against the wisps themselves – though it only played one note. He often used it in his hunts.
He moved along now, back in the direction he and Wren had traveled from, blowing into the whistle at periodic intervals. Though the note was silent to his own ears, he knew others were not so immune, and soon he had heard what he was after – an exquisite roar of anger from the mouth of a beast, ailing in the distance.
Nix smiled to himself. There was no need to go farther. His plan would go as he’d hoped.
Time to lure it in.
Turning, he continued to blow into the whistle, increasing his pace to head back. If Wren had done as he’d told her, then she should have been untouched in her hiding spot, but he felt strangely uneasy to have her out of his sight. Now, however, she was not the only girl that he had to concern himself with.
He was uncertain of what his reunion with that fiery huntress would mean, but helping her had never been a choice. He supposed he owed her that much. He’d make sure she was freed, but that was as far as his dedication went.
Behind him, he heard another roar – this one much closer. He needed to be swift.
Whatever fate befell that settlement after he’d retrieved Calico was none of his concern. They were only pirates, after all.
Pirates, he thought with a sneer, keeping along with a mantra that had been laid down years before. I fucking hate pirates.
3
As much as Calico struggled against the ropes, the result was much the same as every other time she had tried. Her eyes kept turning back to the woods, hoping to catch another glimpse of whoever had been there, but this was just as futile as trying to free her hands. Could it have only been her imagination? Her sanity fleeing her? No, she was sure she had seen something.
The ropes burned her skin from the twisting, and finally she became tired of the effort. She sighed deeply, ceasing struggle. Her eyes closed in disappointment and anger – but the sound of shuffling footsteps snapped her awake. A jolt of fear and hatred ran down through her, knowing that some of her captors were ambling by, but she did not raise her eyes to them, keeping forward as her breath rushed from her nostrils in heavy gusts.
“She still won’t say nuffn’. Ye think she really don’t know?” one of them speculated.
“Why da fuck ye think she’d talk to ye? You know ‘ow savage women are. Vicious wildcats when they look et ye, but manage to break one, an’ she’ll purr like a kitten.”
The stinking pirate knelt down and grabbed her face harshly, forcing her to look at him. If Calico had any saliva left in her dry mouth, she would have spat on him.
“How much spirit ‘ave ye got left, pretty pony?”
She didn’t favor him with a response, but the answer was shining through her eyes. There was a spark of life and hatred there. She was not quite gone yet, and she knew he saw it too.
“Guess she’ll just sit here til she rots den–”
The man got no further than that. From out of nowhere, an arrow pierced his chest.
Calico was surprised, but she did not worry for what was going on. The spurt of blood and instant confusion made her heart race. She watched the other bandits stagger back, and even those who had not approached began to shift. Others among them noticed that there was some sort of attack underway, but they did not make it past their confusion. More arrows came, and one by one, they fell in their own blood.
The Tribal girl was well-studied when it came to recognizing projectile weapons, but these were so intricately placed that she could not tell where they came from. From behind her, no doubt, but whether they were to either side or straight behind, she did not know. It almost seemed to her that a small army was shooting arrows from different locations. Could there have been more than a few? She did not care as long as one of those arrows did not find her.
But she recognized the feathering on the end…
At a sudden jolt behind her on the pole, Calico felt the ropes loosen. Her hands had been freed! She pulled her arms around qu
ickly, peering at the backside of the timber to see what had delivered her. There, buried in the rough wood, was a hatchet, thrown with perfect accuracy. It was not a weapon as her people would have made it, but the shape and weight was similar enough.
My first love.
Calico took the weapon into her skillful hands, turning immediately toward the pirates that had not yet fallen by arrows. She could have run, but she had not forgotten those things that they had done to her. Though weak and dehydrated, she was resolved – filled with rage. She would have her revenge on the rest, and whomever was firing the arrows seemed to understand that. The projectiles were providing decent cover.
She moved, forcing herself across the ground and on toward a rather shaken pirate. He fumbled with his gun at the sight of her approach, but he was not swift enough. She chopped into his reaching arm, cutting it to the bone. The man yelled out in pain and horror, but the sound was stifled as the hatchet hacked into his neck.
After the first one fell, a few foolish others attempted to battle her, but she exacted her rage on them without hesitation. Her fury intensified as their warm blood drops splattered her skin, and even after the ones nearest to her had fallen, she was not quite ready to shut down – but this would not do. She could not hope to face them all.
“Come on!”
A young man was yelling to her from the edge of the camp, waving her on. Nix. She hesitated, unsure how she felt about seeing him again, but did not have time to think about it before a flicker of light in the trees caught her eye. She turned in time to see an enormous flaming creature crash into the midst of the camp.
Calico was no fool when it came to the wild beasts of Nevermor. This fiery fiend looked like a bear to her, but she was not fooled. It was a nightmare. She did not know where it had come from but knew she did not have time to question. The boardwalks caught fire beneath its feet, and the rickety buildings flared up as well when it brushed past them. Something had made this nightmare angry, but it gave her pleasure to see the pirates leaping out of the way as the monster raged through. They shot at it with lead bullets, as if there was any hope that would work.