Nevermor (44 page)

“
Rifter, wait
!”

He didn’t hear
them, and they couldn’t stop him.  Rifter took flight and shot off through the
trees, rushing toward the presence he felt gnawing at him.

3

“Rifter,
wait
!”

The rest of them
were yelling after their leader but he didn’t seem to hear them at all.  He had
flown off through the trees and was gone in an instant, leaving them behind as
if they hadn’t been there with him.

“
Dammit
!”
Nix yelled, flinging his satchel down onto the ground.  Everything seemed to
stop.  The boys loitered as if the group was suddenly without a destination.

“Now what?” Finn
wanted to know.

“We go after
him, that’s what,” Nix said as if the answer should have been obvious.  He
began to dig inside the pocket of his knapsack, withdrawing a much smaller
bag.  Even through the cloth, it glittered faintly.

“What is that?”
Sly asked accusingly, but he knew what it was.  The glowing dust that Nix
spilled out into his palm could have only been one thing.

“You shouldn’t
have that stuff,” Toss said, clearly prepared to resist.  “Rifter would skin
you.”

“What Rifter
doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Nix said.  “Isn’t that our motto?  But we have to
look out for ourselves.  You know that.  This time, if we want to help him, we
have to go against his rules.  Now take some.”

The twins were
first in line to get theirs, always glad to rebel.  The others reluctantly went
forward, but Wren was left standing there, confused.

“What is it?”
she asked, wary of the sparkling substance.

“It’s the
alternative to a blessing when you can’t get one,” Sly said, taking his own
small portion.  “Fairy ashes.  It’s what’s left of the wisps when they die, but
it’s still potent.”

“Rifter doesn’t
like us to have the stuff,” Finn added.  “He says it’s unclean.”

“But that’s easy
for him to say,” Mech said, wiping the portion of the ash on the soles of his
boots.  “He can fly all of the time.”

“It works if you
need it, and we don’t have much of a choice,” Nix said, stepping up to her. 
“Take it.”           

He held out his
hand to give her some of what was left, but she looked down at it and shook her
head.  If Rifter didn’t want them to have it, there must have been a reason –
aside from it seeming completely irreverent to use the ashes of the dead for
something like this.  Nix remained solid, however.

“Take it or we
leave you here.  We don’t have time for this.”

Beyond him, Wren
could see Henry falling in with them, doing as they did.  He had taken some of
the dust and was rubbing it on his shoes.  He had sided with them without
thinking – without even asking her what she thought.

“Nix, we’re
going on,” Sly told him, and the rest of them began to shoot away.  They
weren’t quite flying, but more like hovering over the ground, yet it made them
as fast as shooting stars.  They kept low as they hurried off in the direction
Rifter had gone.

Wren was still
unsure.  Aside from her hesitation to use the magical substance, she didn’t
know if she wanted to go with them anymore.  Was she doing the right thing? 
She needed to know what all this was about, didn’t she?

Isn’t this what
you wanted?
You asked to be included
, she reminded herself.

She stood there,
debating within until Nix sighed.

“Rifter would be
upset if something happened to you,” he said in the softest tone she’d ever
heard him use.  Still, it was not quite friendly.  “But he’s not himself right
now and he needs our support.  So, do you care about him?”

She wasn’t sure
why, but the question nearly knocked her backward.  Even so, she had to answer
it honestly.

“Yes,” she
admitted.

“Sometimes you
have to do things that you don’t want to for the people you care about.”

Wren stared at
him, wondering if they had just met on the same level.  Hadn’t she already
learned that lesson?

Have I?

Max was quiet,
looking up at her with large eyes, waiting for what she would say.  “Let’s not
stay here, Wren.  Let’s go with them.”

She looked back
at Nix, who was still waiting for her response.  Finally, she nodded.

“Only me.  I’ll
carry him,” she said.

She dipped her
fingers into the glowing ash and rubbed it across the soles of her slippers
like the rest of them had, trying to forget what it was.  Nix did the same. 
Wren didn’t feel much different afterward, but she trusted that this ash would
work as it had for the rest of them.  She lifted Max up and was glad when he
didn’t protest.

“Follow me,” Nix
said.  “Try to keep up.”

“Close your
eyes,” she told Max, and whether he did or not, she wasn’t sure.

Nix took off
through the trees and Wren was quickly after him, following his path around the
tree trunks so that she would not slam into them.  She had only run a few steps
before her feet lifted off the ground and she no longer had to move her legs to
go forward, using her own weight to push herself on through the woods as if she
was falling continuously.  She did not marvel at how fantastic it was, for she
had a good idea of what was going on in the distance.

Blood.  Death. 
War.

She remembered
Rifter’s words from earlier. 
She needs to see it
.  That had her
concerned.  Whatever he had intended for her to see, she was already certain
that it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

But I have to
know
. 
She knew that her curiosity would not allow her to let it lie.  She needed to
piece the truth together for herself, and this was just another ounce of it. 
The feud between the Rifter and his enemy had everything to do with the state
of the world.  Since she was part of it now, she had to go forward.

If the Scourge
was there, she needed to see it.

1

Rifter didn’t
stop until he saw the fire.  Wild and destructive, it was oddly beautiful to
him, and yet he hated the way it engulfed everything that the Tribals had built
for themselves.  It consumed their lives and devoured their past in an
instant.  Grinding his teeth against it wouldn’t solve the problem, however. 
It was already done.  He didn’t try to put out the flames, knowing he
couldn’t.  He had other things on his mind.

Where is he? 
Where!

As soon as his
feet touched the ground and he skidded to a halt in the dirt, he drew his
sword.  His heart was pulsing heavily, his blood burning in his veins.  He was
rabid – driven mad by it.

His enemy was
near.  The Scourge was waiting.

You started
without me, old bones?  Where are you?  I know you’re here.

The Rifter waded
through the chaos, killing a few of the pirates who were too preoccupied to
notice him.  His eyes were wide and searching, and finally he saw the one he
had been looking for, standing on a black spot of ground.  The malady was
spreading, killing the grass and turning it to ash.  Rifter was going to put a
stop to this disease
.

The Scourge
looked the same as he always had – not a day older than the first time they had
drawn their swords against each other, and yet he was too old in Rifter’s
eyes.  That one blue, all-seeing eye peered out at him.  The other was covered
by a patch, but Rifter couldn’t say how he’d lost that one.  Some enemy before
him had cut it out, he guessed.

A high collar
shielded the man’s pale face.  The dark coat he wore was broad across the
shoulders, but fit well against his skin so that it would not hinder his form –
important, since they would fight soon.

Rifter had not
failed to notice that the evil man was not alone.  He was holding onto a young Tribal. 
Rifter recognized her, and even though he had only seen her from a distance, he
would know her anywhere.  She was something that had intrigued him, and he did
not often forget those things.

The huntress…

He did not know
her beyond sight, but felt obligated to make sure she stayed alive.  She looked
disoriented and she was bleeding, but was probably well enough to run away if
he could convince the other to let her go.

The Scourge
stared at him, smiling to have finally seen him arrive.

“There you are,”
the Scourge sneered, visibly thrilled.  “I was beginning to wonder if you’d
come.”

“Of course you
knew I would,” Rifter said, clutching the hilt of his sword so tightly that his
knuckles were white and bared.  “But I have to say: I like it better when it’s
just the two of us.”

He was talking
as much about the girl as he was her people that had been brought into this
mess.

“Perhaps that’s
ideal,” the Scourge admitted, “but I had to invite you in.  Consider that this
was your formal invitation.”

“Won’t you let
her go?” Rifter asked, trying to sound indifferent.  “You can’t exactly fight
me with a sword in one hand and a girl in the other.  That’s as good as a
handicap.”

“I was thinking
that she made a rather beautiful meat shield.  Don’t you agree?”  He tightened
his grip on her, pulling her scantily clad body closer against his.  “But you
don’t know how to appreciate the finer points of the female form, do you? 
You’re just a
boy
.  I’m not even sure your balls have dropped yet.”

“Fuck you,” he
drawled.

“That was an
intelligent response.”

“You think I’d
care about cutting through some girl to get to you?” Rifter asked severely.  It
was a bluff, but he hoped his enemy didn’t see that.

“Come at me
then, if that’s your choice,” the Scourge welcomed.  His ploy hadn’t worked. 
The Scourge watched him intently, but Rifter only laughed and took a few paces
across the ground, stalling.

“I just don’t
want anything to come between us,” he said finally.  “Our relationship is
already so
special
without a woman in the middle of it.”

Rifter knew that
the Scourge could have slit her throat before he could blink, and maybe there
was no hope that he wouldn’t kill her, but Rifter tried.  That was all he could
do.  The Scourge had already killed so many others in this camp.  What was one
more?  But as Rifter stared down his enemy, he saw the man relent.

“I guess it’s
only fair,” said the Scourge.  “You’re right.  There’s no sense in bringing a
woman into this, is there?”

He threw the
girl down and drew his weapons – a sword for each hand.  Rifter watched the Tribal
from the corner of his eye to make sure she had crawled away, and then he was
able to absorb himself fully in the confrontation that his heart was pulsing so
hard for.

Rifter moved a
little closer to the dark man, and the two of them circled around, each sizing
the other up.  Not much had changed from the times they had fought before, but
somehow the thought of looking on with new eyes had some sort of appeal.

“You’ve called
me here,” Rifter said finally, serious in his task.  “So I’ve come.”

A wicked curve
came up at the corner of the man’s mouth.  “I did all this just for you.”

Rifter couldn’t
help but smile impishly as he readied himself on his feet.  Above them, the
clouds had begun to swirl, and the sky had turned a deep orange.  Thunder
groaned above them, but still the boy smiled.

“Then we both
know why we’re here,” Rifter said, setting his jaw and his feet.  “
Fight me
!”

2

When the Pack
arrived, just a minute or two after Rifter had, they saw the scene clearly on
the hill.  The camp was ablaze, the huts and tents eaten by the fire.  There
were men fighting each other with swords and guns, spears and arrows.  There
were bodies on the ground, unmoving, and the living were running through the
camp, shouting or crying in madness and fear.

It was a
horrific sight.  Wren immediately began to regret that she had come here.

“We need to back
Rifter up,” Nix said, commanding them in their leader’s stead.  “Sly, you and
the twins branch out and catch the stragglers.  Finn, you move with me,
head-on.  Toss, you stay with the girl.”

They all voiced
their agreement and prepared to move, but Wren wasn’t paying attention to
them.  She was the only one who was watching how the sun had been blocked out
by thick clouds, and she lifted her face to the heavens to observe it.

“Why is the sky
doing that?” she asked, and the rest looked up as if they hadn’t noticed.

The rusty hue of
the firmament was beautiful, but menacing.  The clouds were swirling too fast,
flashing with amber lightning and grumbling with strain.  It was the most
unusual thing she had ever seen, and she had seen her share since coming here.