Nevermor

by Lani Lenore

  He was laughing as Whisper dove in toward the nightmare, drawing its attention again. The wounded tongue shot out toward him, and he twisted to the side as he dodged. The creature missed him, as he’d known it would.

  He gloated privately to himself, inwardly complimenting his own swiftness, but that was before he realized that the area around him had suddenly gotten darker. The absence of light baffled him for a moment, but the color drained from his face when he realized what had happened.

  The tongue hadn’t touched him, but it had caught a part of him just the same. Whisper was gone.

  Rifter was stricken with a fear that shot down through his body, clenching his gut.

  “No!”

  This wasn’t a game anymore. The fun had been sucked out of it, as always happened when one of the boys was in serious trouble. Whisper was even more important than that. She had saved his life more than once. He couldn’t let this happen to her!

  He jumped up and flew through the air in an arc, then let gravity take him back down to settle on top of the creature. He had a bit of trouble holding his footing on the slimy surface, but he kept it long enough to stab his sword into its back. By that, he had something to hold onto for leverage.

  His heart was racing with his fear that she was gone forever – that he would never have her back. He didn’t give much more thought to it. He drew his blade back into the flesh of the thing, slicing it open like it was a large melon. The creature roared and flailed, tried to buck, but Rifter held onto the sword that was rooted in its flesh.

  Have to get inside there. Have to get her out!

  He ripped back, trying to pry the flesh apart with his feet to truly open the beast up. Instead of seeing the blood and raw muscle that he had expected inside the creature, there was something black and swirling inside, and before he had figured it out, he was nearly knocked back by the emergence of dozens of smaller nightmares that shot out, swooping through the air like eagles.

  “What the fuck!” Nix exclaimed, drawing out his pistol to fire at a few of the bat-like shadows.

  “Cover me!” Rifter barked, trusting them to do that job as he set himself back to the task. There was an eruption of gunfire to ward off the nightmares that were swopping down toward him, but he didn’t look up. Even as the meat of the larger beast began to turn to putty, he dug down deeper, seeking what he had lost.

  There seemed to be only blackness inside it. Where was she? Where was the light! He could hear the panic in his own breath as he sought her, beginning to fear that he wouldn’t find her at all, but he would have known if she was dead. He would have felt it. Until then, he wouldn’t give up.

  He cut in deeper, and finally he saw it. There was a light in the monster’s belly, flickering and weak, but alive. Rifter reached for it, and soon he had the warm little beast in his hand. He took flight before he could be swallowed by the black sludge, moving off to another pool where the water was cleaner.

  The nightmare was done, and he trusted the others to take care of the flying creatures. Rifter didn’t give it any more thought.

  He dipped Whisper into the water carefully to wash some of the bile and stomach acid off of her, not bothering to worry about how he was covered in the fluid himself. He could see that she was breathing, but some of her skin was burned, and not surprisingly. It was lucky that she wasn’t dead.

  “Are you alright?” he asked. He heard her hum a bit, but she didn’t speak. She was weak, but alive, and that was good enough for now. She would heal quickly if she could rest. Rifter put her against his chest within the coat of leaves to hold her in.

  “How is she?” Toss asked. They all were looking on with concern for her, having dealt with the rest of the creatures.

  “She’ll be fine,” Rifter assured them, rising. “In the meantime, that was some good work. Finn, you almost impressed me.”

  “Hey, my idea was a good one, it just didn’t work out like I thought,” Finn defended, recognizing the sarcasm.

  “A klutz is what you are,” Rifter teased with a grin. “I can’t believe you’ve survived this long.”

  “Yeah, well, you knew that when you married me,” he responded, scraping some of the thick goop off his shoe.

  Sly smiled. “How long have you been holding onto that one?”

  They had only just begun jeering at each other when Nix spoke up.

  “We’ve got company.”

  Rifter turned to follow his gaze, brandishing his sword on instinct, and he saw the faces of the ones who were camouflaged against the weeds across the way. These were warriors of a different sort – dark-skinned, their faces painted in white and black instead of blood. They were nearly naked in feathers and pieces of skin, decorated with teeth and bones.

  Natives. Savages. They were a wild people, even more so than the Wolf Pack themselves, and the boys called them Tribals. These people had been a part of Nevermor for as long as the Rifter could remember. He couldn’t deny that they may have been here even before he had found this place, or perhaps they had simply been born with it. No one could say. Either way, the two groups had always made it a point to stay out of each other’s way. They never spoke, though it would have done little good because neither group could speak the other’s language well.

  They all stared across the mire, each waiting to see if the opposing side would make a move. They did not fight often, though at times it was a question of stalking the same prey. Rifter studied them, wondering if they had been hunting the same nightmare they’d just killed, but it wasn’t going to do them any good now.

  “Let’s go,” he instructed the Pack, lowering his weapon, but before he turned away, he noticed one among them that drew his attention.

  Set apart from the taller masculine figures, there was a smaller one, and though the face and body were painted, it was not hard to see that it was a girl.

  They had seen her before with the hunting party. She was an icon among them, and the boys had taken to calling her the painted huntress. She was young, around their age for now, but she would age. She was not part of the Vow, unprotected against time. The huntress was armed, looking as fierce as the rest of the warriors with their spears and war paint. It might have been said that every one of the boys had gotten a bit of his heart stolen by her. She was a mystery, an icy surprise – a new idea about what a girl could be.

  As Rifter looked at her, he wondered if it had been his intention that Wren should be like this among them, as a strong female who could hold her own within their group. He tried to imagine the blond girl that way now, and instead found that it put him off.

  He wasn’t sure that he wanted to see her like that. Even though Nix was completely against having anyone around that couldn’t fight with them, Rifter saw Wren as something different. She was something pure and lovely, and part of him wanted to keep her separate from the worst that this world had to offer. He wanted to protect her, but he wasn’t sure where that desire had come from.

  But she shouldn’t be oblivious to it all either. He couldn’t do both. It was all confusing to him.

  The boys had already begun walking away before Rifter finally turned to leave with them, but he did so with Wren on his mind, though he’d resolved to put her away from him for a while. What had possessed him to bring her here? Was it because she had truly convinced him that she was worth it, or was it because he’d only wanted to make the rest of them angry? He wouldn’t believe that she had come here for no reason. No, he had been able to call her for some purpose. But was that enough?

  Maybe I just wanted to be near her.

  He was lost in his own considerations until one of them spoke.

  “Seems you lost that bet, Finn,” Mech said. “Time to pay up.”

  “But I got the last blow!” he insisted, shrugging it off. “I shot down the last of those gargoyles. Technically, they were part of the thing and no one can deny that, so I win.”

  “You were the one who nearly got us killed!” Mach argued.

  “They
are right about that, Finn,” Toss brought up.

  “That doesn’t have anything to do with me getting the last blow,” Finn insisted. Nix chuckled to himself and Sly rolled his eyes over it. At this, the twins found that they had no further argument to make, but weren’t willing to let it go.

  “Judge it, Rifter,” Mech asserted. “Who won the bet?”

  Rifter was tired of the whole thing by now. His mind was elsewhere, considering Wren, and their disagreement meant little to him.

  “If the three of you can’t determine it, I call it a draw. You’ll just have to try again next time.”

  It was clear that the twins weren’t happy with that, but Finn was smiling as though he’d counted it a triumph.

  “I guess that settles it,” Finn said with a large grin. He looked back at them as the twins fumed, his face covered in blood. “I guess we ought to hunt something to eat now.”

  Chapter Twelve

  1

  It was almost too quiet in the underground without them, but once Wren had assured herself that the boys would not be back for a while, she took advantage of her solitude. She took a thin cloak that was hanging from a root in the wall and went to the place deeper in the tunnels where the spring ran through. She washed her gown and put on the cloak instead, then went outside to hang her wet garment in the breeze.

  After that, she bathed herself in the cold water, which was frigid at first but not so bad after a bit. She was used to a cold bath on occasion, especially in winter. The temperature did not bother her much. Her hair had been full of sand and grass from the beach, and she was glad to be rid of it.

  Once she was done getting the dirt from her face and the tangles from her hair, she began her job of cleaning up the den, which started with gathering up every cloth item that she could get her hands on, washing them all and hanging them outside to dry.

  There was not any sweeping she could do because they had nothing that even half-resembled a broom. Instead, she set herself to organizing things in the den, which was a task she needed gloves for. She found one easily enough, but could not find its partner. She picked up everything that was lying around, even though some of it was rotten garbage, trying to at least make the arrangement look neater.

  I’ll bet they’ve never cleaned this place. Was that possible? How many years of clutter was before her? Each time she lifted up a crumpled mass, dust rolled off of it, and occasionally, black beetles darted out.

  Despite the dirt and the irreverent crawlers, there were a few gems to be found among the mess. She found a few books, which she took to be Sly’s. They were a strange assortment – subjects ranging from philosophy to steam power to a romance novel. She wondered where he had gotten them. By what he had told her, she found it a bit hard to believe that Rifter would allow him to have them. Hadn’t Sly said that Rifter only wanted to live in the present?

  Wren rearranged the furniture – the tree stump chairs and table – moved them into what she thought was a more efficient formation. She found a clay vase that was broken around the top, but she knew a good use for it. She went outside and found a few fragrant flowers and greenery, and set the vase on the low, wide table.

  Some of the things she had washed were dry by then, including her gown, so she brought those things back in, folded them or hung them up, and then put her own dress back on. She wished that she had been able to bring more of her clothes with her, even though she didn’t have much to call her own in the first place. She wondered if she might make some new ones out of skins. That excited her. Back home, only the rich women had furs.

  When she was done, she looked over her work and thought it looked very nice indeed.

  It just needed a woman’s touch, she thought to herself with a smile. How could she fail her test after they saw it?

  Since they were not back, she sat down and flipped through one or two of the books, but they couldn’t seem to keep her attention. Something was going through her head – a rule begging to be broken. Wren wanted to explore, to look into their rooms.

  She knew she shouldn’t. To do so would be wrong. She shouldn’t have even been entertaining the idea.

  I wonder if it would be wrong for me to only have a glance? She had already seen into Toss’ room, and it might help her to learn something about them if she could see how they lived.

  I shouldn’t, but what else am I going to do? I’ll only look. I won’t go in.

  Unable to shut down her curiosity, she slipped into the bear tunnel and pulled back the first curtain just a hair to peek inside.

  There was a small hole in the ceiling that let in a bit of light, but otherwise it was dark in the hollow. It was particularly messy inside this space. There was a cot against the wall, the blankets strewn all over, but the greater part of the area was taken up by different surfaces that were scattered with junk. Wren considered it to be junk in her eyes, at least. There were pieces of wood and metal and stone. They didn’t look like much of anything to her, but someone had certainly been busy.

  By process of elimination, she guessed that this space belonged to Finn, simply because it must not have belonged to the others.

  He builds things. But she couldn’t say what.

  After taking it in as a whole, she backed out without going inside. She had no business doing that. She didn’t go into the next space either, and it was a lucky thing that she didn’t, because it was not until she looked around that she noticed there was a string tied low across the doorway between two roots, and if she had gone inside, she surely would have broken it. It was carefully placed and would be a telltale sign that someone had crossed the line and come into this room that wasn’t theirs.

  There was no question in her mind who this corner belonged to. It could only have been Nix – especially after she saw the inside of it. She’d wondered if she might learn something about him if she looked, but there was nothing new here. It was clear that all he cared about was violence.

  There were a few skulls mounted on the walls, decorating the space. There was a hammock in the corner, and beneath it there was a large chest, but it was closed. The table there was stocked with parts of guns and ammunition, a few knives and materials for making arrows. Instruments of death – all of them. She’d seen enough.

  Wren left that space and moved on to the next, but that was as far as she got before she heard the voices of the boys echoing through the tunnels to reach her.

  She quickly abandoned what she was doing and went back to the den to stand in the midst of what she had done to make the room more presentable. She was ready to accept their praise for her good work, but when they came inside, they did not even seem to notice.

  “Hullo, Wren!” Finn said to her as he went past. He took a bite out of an apple, and she noticed that he had a few others in his grimy hands. The boys were all as dirty as ever, and they stank of something soured and rotten.

  The rest of them were holding other fruits and vegetables. Sly had a few herbs, some of which she had never seen, and they dumped them all in a pile on the low tree stump table. Sly began to pull a few strange-colored eggs out of his pocket, but Finn elbowed him accidentally and he nearly dropped his spoils. When Sly protested, Finn snatched up another of the eggs and threw it at him purposefully, but it hit Toss instead. It burst everywhere and Wren flinched. They only laughed.

  She was busy watching them make a mess when the twins approached her.

  She was startled when she turned to see them standing there, gazing at her with secret smiles on their mouths, but before she asked them what they wanted, they had each taken their hands from behind their backs and presented her with something.

  If she had been hoping for flowers, she was quickly disillusioned.

  Mech held up two large rabbits by the ears – very dead – and Mach had a strange bird by the feet, also as dead as could be.

  “We brought dinner,” they announced at the same time, but then looked away from each other in disgust.

  The fur and feathers wer
e covered in blood. She did not want to touch those things, but before she could protest, they thrust the dead creatures into her hands, and she had no choice but to take them or else have them fall to the floor – which she had a good mind to do anyway. She was used to dealing with meat, but only after it had been dressed.

  I’m supposed to… She felt like retching, but she swallowed hard to keep it down.

  Rifter was the last one to come inside, and she had nearly missed him as she was looking down at the slain creatures in her hands. The first thing he did was walk toward the wall where there was a small opening in a tangle of roots. He took something out from within his coat and placed it inside. When Wren noticed a faint light, she knew that it was the fairy.

  “What happened?” she asked. I shouldn’t care. That fairy couldn’t care less about me.

  “The beast swallowed her down, but she’ll be fine,” he said.

  “Beast?” She had thought that they’d only gone hunting for food. Not monsters.

  “I’m starved,” Rifter said, changing the subject. Finn tossed him an apple. He bit into it promptly, an enormous mouthful. His hands were so dirty that they were brown, but he didn’t seem to care. “How long do you think it will be?” he mumbled.

  Wren just stared at him blankly a moment. “You expect me to cook these?”

  “That is generally what we do with them,” he responded.

  “But! These still have the skins! And the heads! I can’t do anything with them like this!”

  Rifter tilted his head to look at her inquisitively, as if he didn’t understand her distress.

  “You said you could clean and cook,” he reminded her, “so you should clean them and cook them.”

  He didn’t seem to know why she was confused. She looked down at the animals whose dead eyes were peering back at her, and she felt disgusted. She finally realized what he must have thought when they’d made the deal about her test earlier. When she’d said she could clean, he’d thought she meant that she would be able to skin what they killed and then cook it – not that she would be picking up the mess in the room or washing their clothes.