by Lenore, Lani
Ignorant bastards…
With a little smile on her mouth, Calico managed to pick up her feet and rush toward Nix, embracing her freedom into the wild where she had been raised. She did not stop when she reached him but flew past, racing out into the trees as far as she could before weakness took her over. She was tired – hungry and thirsty – but she ran on pure adrenaline before falling to the ground.
Breathless, she uttered a prayer to whatever good spirits remained over this land, thanking them for her revenge and her deliverance. Even if none heard, this calmed her somewhat, letting her catch her breath.
When she heard the footsteps behind her, Calico took up her weapon and came to attention, though she had little hope of being fierce now.
She was surprised enough to see Nix, but her shock was even greater to see the girl with him.
This pale girl – hadn’t she gone away?
The couple moved closer but, before they were looking Calico in the face, the one-eyed boy halted himself and made the girl stop as well – as if Calico was some rabid animal they were approaching.
“Are you alright?” the girl with the messy yellow curls asked. She was disheveled and damp now, but even in this state, she had not changed so much from what Calico remembered – without even a scar for what she had done to this world! The look of the pale girl made her sick.
So it was true: the girl, Wren, was back in this place, as predicted. This changed many things, yes; and Calico knew it. Nix was with her, and who knew what his purpose was.
But you know what your purpose is, Calico told herself as she stared daringly into Nix’s watchful eye. Act!
With not nearly enough thought on the matter, Calico dashed forward and snatched Wren’s wrist harshly, pulling her deeper into the trees.
Chapter Eleven
1
“Wait!” Wren cried in protest as she was pulled along, but she could not get herself free from Calico’s grip. “Really, this isn’t necessary!”
Calico did not stop. Wren tried to resist the pace, wondering what the savage maiden wanted with her, but she could get no response from the other’s mouth.
Where are we going? What does she want from me? Wren did not have to wonder about it for long.
The sound of a gunshot rang out behind them, and Calico stopped, tensing, knowing she was defeated. Wren shrieked in surprised, but when she turned, she saw Nix lowering his gun from having fired into the air.
“That was rude – trying to run off like that,” he commented to the savage girl. “I thought I’d taught you manners the last time we met.”
Calico’s breathing was quick and angry, but Wren was grateful that they had stopped. She took the opportunity to jerk her wrist free of the Tribal girl’s grip.
“You were always so predictable,” Nix said to the huntress, as if reading her thoughts. “If you'll behave, I might be willing to share her with you, but she’s not going anywhere without me, so you’d best accept that.”
Wren held her chest, trying to soothe a sharp pain and a chill. She took steps back from Calico and moved closer to Nix. Now that she’d gotten a good look at the Tribal maiden she knew why she had not recognized her in the beginning. Her body was much more mature, her torn clothing showing enough skin to make Wren blush. She’d always thought that the savage people had no shame, but if she’d had something to be jealous of before, there was certainly more now. Yet despite her developed frame, it was evident that the dark-skinned girl had seen a rough life. She was dirty from head to toe. The paint on her face was dry and fading. Her formerly straight and silky hair was twisted and uncombed. She was splattered with blood. What had this world done to such a proud creature?
Calico stood there, glaring at them silently, but docile as a lamb now.
“That’s better,” Nix said, seeing fit to put his gun away. Wren was safely beside him.
“We helped her,” Wren said to him breathlessly. “What else does she want?”
“Why don’t you ask her?”
Wren was shocked at his statement. What he was suggesting was impossible, for wasn’t it true that the Tribals did not speak English?
“I’m actually curious as well,” Nix went on. “How did those pirates get their hands on you? Your people left this area years ago. Therefore, you must have been close for some reason. Why are you here, Calico? Tell us that.”
Calico and Nix stared at each other for a long moment, doing battle with their eyes. Finally, the girl opened her mouth, and Wren was surprised at the voice that came out of it.
“I have my reasons,” Calico said in practiced English. Her accent was not perfect, but she clearly had a grasp on the language, “and I assure you that they are more genuine than those you might possibly have.”
Wren was so surprised by the girl’s use of the language that she had almost missed the words.
It’s been years, Wren reminded herself. It’s not impossible that she learned.
“You can’t possibly know what my motives are,” Nix assured her snidely.
“Oh? Well if you are claiming Rifter’s best interest, then I know at least that is not true.”
Wren’s ears perked up. Nix had already admitted to her that he and Rifter were no longer on good terms, but was Calico claiming something more?
“You, Girl,” Calico said shrewdly, drawing Wren’s attention but not breaking her gaze from the tall boy. “Did Nix tell you that he was banished from Rifter?”
A slight gasp escaped Wren’s throat as she looked to her companion. This was a low blow, to be sure, but the boy did not even cringe. He only stared at Calico in boredom.
“Is that true?” Wren asked him quietly. Nix did not respond.
“He did not tell you?” Calico asked, clearly feeling power in this situation.
“Do tell her the story then, princess,” Nix mocked swiftly, crossing his arms. “I know you’re dying to.”
It was a challenge. She had his credibility in her hands. Wren knew she was only caught in the middle, but still she wanted to hear it.
Calico’s gaze did not break from Nix as she spoke, but he was unfazed by her words.
“My people knew of the darkness before it came, though we did not know what form it would take, or what it would bring. After what we saw on the High Mountain that day, it was unclear who was at fault. The Scourge was thrown into the mountain. His body, with its black disease, was buried deep in the core of the world. It is my belief that this is what caused the darkness, though others have their own opinions.
“Either way, many blamed Rifter and the boys for the corruption – for destroying the Scourge as they had, even though it had been done so many times before. The boys were deemed unclean by all others. They were hated, and the hunting of the wolves quickly became a favorite sport to nearly everyone on the island.”
Wren listened, taking it in but all the while wondering how this lined up with what Rifter had told her – if at all.
He said they had never discovered the cause of the darkness. Maybe the Tribals were more enlightened. Wren glanced over at Nix. He gave nothing away.
“All of that brings me to my point,” Calico went on. “Each boy promised to guard Rifter with his life as best he could, for they were brothers, bonded to the land by blood, but as they grew older by the day, they began to wonder over the truth. The discovery of the demon did not help things, but it all comes down to this: at the time that they should have forgotten their differences and bound together, Nix turned against Rifter, despite his vow of trust. They came to blows, and Nix was driven away. For spite, he had urged the other boys to go out and find the answers for themselves. Eventually, to Rifter’s dismay, they did. One by one, they left. They deserted him when he needed them most! But you see, it was Nix who caused them to separate. That is why all this has happened!”
Wren looked up at Nix, but there was no emotion shining through his eye. Either he did not regret this truth or he was unafraid of it. Calico seemed sure of herself concern
ing it, however.
“Have you spoken with Rifter?” Wren asked. “Did he tell you this himself?”
Though she asked, Wren feared the answer to that question. She didn’t like the thought of this girl being anywhere near the one she loved.
“I have not been near Rifter in quite some time. I thought, perhaps, that what has been said was true: that he had gone away,” Calico admitted, and Wren’s eyes widened in surprise. “But you are here, and so now I must assume that he lives. I am glad of that.”
Wren took everything in, and though the girl’s story may have been truth, she wondered how to interpret this account of Nix being the cause of the fall – not the darkness, but the way Rifter had let it endure. Wren did not approve of any of them turning on Rifter, but she had to respect that they had acted on their own beliefs.
“Would you still choose to be with him?” Calico asked, indicating Nix. “He is not what you might think. You should come with me. I can take you somewhere safe.”
“If you think I’m going to let you take her, you’re wrong,” Nix threatened, his first words in several minutes. “She’s not leaving my sight.”
“Which is much more limited than in past days,” Calico sneered.
Wren looked back and forth between them, quite unsure of either of their intentions, but her answer could not be swayed by this argument.
“I can’t leave him,” she told Calico firmly. “Rifter asked me to gather the boys back together, and that is what I must do.”
Calico looked extremely disapproving of that, but a triumphant smirk had risen up on Nix’s mouth.
“We’re making quite a long journey, Wren and I,” Nix said pointedly. “Is there somewhere we might escort you? Unless I’m wrong, your people are in the plains now, aren’t they?”
The Tribal girl sharpened her eyes, but kept silent.
“Perhaps she could help us navigate the island,” Wren said quietly to Nix. “If she’s come a long way, as you said, then she must know how the land might have changed.”
Nix considered it a moment.
“It’s your decision,” he told her.
Wren felt a lot of pressure at that, but the usefulness of a guide might outweigh the risk of Calico being a threat. Aside from that, perhaps the Tribal had more information about other matters that Wren could unearth.
“We’re in need of a guide,” Wren said finally, speaking up. “Would you help us? I’ll tell you what I know.”
“Yes, do come along,” Nix agreed, though it was apparent that he did not mean it. Calico glared at him forcefully.
“It would be my honor,” she responded with resolve.
“Great. It’s settled then,” he said flatly, turning away. He began to move off through the woods ahead of them.
Calico ably took the position at the back of the traveling line, forcing Wren into step. Wren herself was quiet as she walked along obediently, wondering over things. It seemed that every bit of information she gained contradicted the next – everyone had a secret, and perhaps Rifter’s was the biggest of all.
Despite how confusing it was, she felt she could at least comfort herself with the idea that she had two capable companions with her. She could not say if meeting Calico was luck or misfortune, but it was apparent that the Tribal was holding with Rifter, which would aid her effort. Nix was not so easy to convince, but Wren was feeling more comfortable around him. Perhaps he was not as she remembered from past days, and for now, that was good enough.
Still, there were things that bothered her. How did Calico know so much? If she had not talked to Rifter, how could she claim to know how any of it had happened? And why did Nix seem just as hostile toward her as she to him? Was there some history between them? She would inquire later, perhaps.
Maybe it is none of my business.
Wren knew that she would have to rely on the hands of others throughout this journey, but she vowed to keep her own theories secret for now.
2
Rifter didn’t bother keeping his feet on the ground as he traveled through the murky bog of the shadow realm. He hovered, but kept low, weapon in hand, keeping watch. He could see the wraithlike shadows drifting along in the distance, but he imagined that they would leave him be. He was not so different from what they were – these creatures of darkness. He kept his hood up around his face, believing that this black disguise would keep them all thinking he belonged.
I just need to find it, he reminded himself. He had no business here except to find what he was seeking. He passed onward through the fog with one thing on his mind.
I have to find the door.
The Shadow Downs was a place for the dark beings, lost souls, and old memories. It was a realm beyond the farthest reaches of dreams, which one might even be less likely to find than Nevermor itself. Old memories, no longer desired, were cast aside here, locked beyond thick doors. The Rifter’s most painful memories were here – somewhere – and he needed to find them. There was something there that he needed to see. The fate of his plan – beyond Wren – rested on this one thing.
He swept along, his amber eyes searching tentatively. There was no wind to push him back, but the air passed over his face and white locks as he moved. He needed to make this happen quickly. As long as he did not run into any of the titans – those ghastly giants bound by chains, dragging the weight that others had cast off – there would be no trouble.
Moving on between the hills, he saw the first door. The frame led into nothing, a solitary structure that, when opened, would reveal hidden truths. After eyeing it a moment, he was certain that it was not the one he was looking for. Within the sturdy frame of singed timbers, a large eye opened wide, peering back at him, and he passed it by. There were many doors here, each not unlike the next, but he felt he would know when he found the proper one. It held the biggest, most forbidden secrets and was no doubt gated accordingly.
For hours, he searched, fearing that it might take him days after all, but he did not have that kind of time. He needed to get back to meet with the others. He could not afford to be lost – and then he saw it.
The large black door was looming atop one of the downs. He knew it was the one he was seeking. There were heavy chains across it, and it was protected on each side by a shadowy sentinel with a spear – both of them titans – but Rifter did not care if there was an entire horde of titans and nightmare monsters in his path. The memories behind that door were rightfully his, and he deserved to have them.
He gripped the hilt of his sword tighter in his fist and a smile rose up on his face. No matter the circumstances, he would always have a taste for violence, and he had no care for the source. Without any doubt as to whether he was man enough to destroy them, he shot up into the air.
Rifter cleared the hill in seconds, diving in to attack, but the sentinels, with their many eyes set in darkness, became aware of him immediately. They lifted their spears, fleshy arms filled with bulging purple veins, and tried to cut him down. He dodged accurately, spinning in the air to gain momentum for his own blade before he sliced down, taking the grotesque head off one before it even realized that it had missed him.
The titans did not bleed, being creatures of darkness. The mammoth beast slumped forward and crumbled to ash before him, leaving a decaying mess on the hillside. Rifter smiled to himself, marveling at his handiwork – but was not aware enough to prevent the second sentinel’s spear from breaking his guard. He raised his sword again but did not place it as accurately as he’d liked, and then...
Pain shot through his body as he was flung to the ground, hitting hard. His side was pouring blood – dark blood that he could not hope to replenish. He was made weak by it, but he could not let this wound be the end of him.
Wren… I have to get back to Wren!
Rifter flipped himself up as the titan’s massive foot came down to crush him. He could not allow the pain of his mortal body to interfere. This wound would not affect what he needed to accomplish.
The tit
an opened up the large singular eye in the center of its chest, focusing on him. The guardian was strong, but it was slow. Rifter had only to time himself, shooting beyond the reach of the spear, his sword ready, and stab the sentinel in the large eye. Like its brother, it fell swiftly, crumbling to ash, and all was quiet once again in the Shadow Downs.
Rifter put his sword away, touching lightly at his side. The pain had grown dull now, and he had ceased to bleed, but he could not stop to examine it. It was a wound like so many others, merely adding to his scars. He could not let it stop him.
His heart was pounding and his chest ached, shooting stars of pain from his core, but he did not stop to favor it. Rifter stepped forward, wrestled past the chains and flung open the gate.
The forgotten memories reached for him like tendrils of smoke. He saw many things, and while some of it stung him, he did not care for most of those ancient scenes. There was only one thing he cared to see, and finally, after a long line of past feelings that meant nothing to him, he saw it.
He saw a man, not so old, but not quite young. The man had long black hair, and in his single blue eye was a savagery – a cold cruelty – that could not be matched, even by demon eyes. He wore a smile when he killed and he felt no remorse.
Rifter studied the dark man’s movements, his mannerisms; the way he fought and the way he killed. He listened to the sound of his voice. Every detail was important. He needed to retain the memory of this man – the one they had called the Scourge of Nevermor, who had struck fear in the hearts of them all. He needed everything there was to remember.