Nevermor (54 page)

“There’s
something that we have to tell you, Wren.  We all know it – we’ve known it for
a while – but you’re so close with Rifter that we just didn’t know how to trust
you, or tell you because of him…”

“What is it?”
she asked when he trailed off.  “I want to know.”

“It’s not going
to stop,” he said bluntly, sighing because there was no better way to say it. 
“He always comes back.  I mean, even if Rifter
kills
him, he always
comes back.”

Had she heard
that right?  A strange tingle rolled across her neck as if a spider was
crawling there.

“What are you
saying?  You mean Rifter has killed him before?”

“Rifter has
killed him
many
times before,” Toss said lowly.  “He just doesn’t
remember any of them.”

How was that
possible?  If Rifter had killed the Scourge, then he ought to be dead. Perhaps
he was.  How could a man come back from the grave?

“We go off to
war, and they go at each other hard for a while until Rifter manages to kill
him.  As far as we know, it has never gone the other way.  Things get quiet,
life is good for a bit, and then the Scourge comes back – out of nowhere,” Finn
went on.  “Neither of them seems to remember what happened.  They know each
other – know their hatred for each other – but that’s it.  It just goes on and
on.”

“Why don’t you
tell him?” she asked, amazed at how they could keep this to themselves, yet
fearing that the matter was more complicated than she was aware.

“We’ve hinted,
but he never takes it up,” Sly said regretfully.  “You know how he is, but can
you imagine being told something that you know in your own mind didn’t happen? 
He’d never believe it.”

“So this happens
over and over again,” Mech confirmed.  “We fight the pirates and Rifter fights
the Scourge.  We kill them, and then he comes back, assembles a new crew, and
it starts over.”

“It’s never the
same though,” Sly chimed in.  “It’s always a different plan – a different
circumstance.  Rifter has never wounded the Scourge like this beforehand,
though it’s usually a huge ordeal to kill him.  He’s never come after our home,
but it’s like they said.  We have a war, Rifter wins, and then it’s quiet for a
few days, a few weeks – and then he’s back.”

“Do you think
there’s any way to get rid of him for good?” she asked, though doubtless she
hadn’t been the first to think of that.

“I’ve been
trying to think of a unique approach for ages,” Sly admitted.  “But like so
many other things, I eventually gave up on it.  My theory?  The Rifter and the
Scourge are part of each other somehow.  To know that for sure, we’d have to at
least know where
one
of them came from, and we don’t.  All that I’m left
with is an idea that the Scourge exists because Rifter exists.  Given that, I
have to believe that in order to kill the Scourge for good, they’ll both have
to die.”

“Okay, that’s
enough,” Nix said finally, not liking the way that this conversation was going.

Sly shrugged. 
“It’s only a theory.”

“There’s no
sense thinking about it anyway,” Nix said.  “We’re here because we were chosen
by Rifter.  We fight for this life we’ve earned, and that’s it.  So what if it
keeps happening?  That’s just the way it is, and apparently that’s the way he
wants it.”

They were all quiet
about it then, and Wren wasn’t sure how she was supposed to absorb this
information.  It was wrong not to tell Rifter.  Could he not be forced to
understand?  If he would accept it, then maybe something could be done to stop
this from continuing.

Maybe he can be
convinced?

She wanted to
try but she knew that she couldn’t tell him directly because of her promise to
the others.  She had to keep their confidence, but maybe she could hint at it –
feel him out and see if he really denied it or if it was true that he’d
forgotten completely.

If he would
listen to her.

She stood with
the intention of heading into the woods to look for Rifter, but Nix was quick
to cut her off.  He didn’t say anything, but she knew what he needed to hear
from her.

“I’m not going to
tell him,” she promised.  “At least, not outright.”

He stared at her
a moment to make sure she wasn’t lying, but then stepped out of her way to let
her pass.

Wren moved down
the hill and into the trees, hoping that Rifter didn’t hate her too much.  She
wanted to salvage this life if she could.  She had given herself to it.  It
would be such a shame for her to lose that now.

2

Rifter did not
handle rejection well.  He didn’t like the word no – didn’t like to be told
that he couldn’t have something he wanted.  He’d wanted
her
but she’d
turned him away.  Why had she?  Hadn’t she said she loved him?

Growling, he ran
a hand back through his hair and shook it off.  Why did he even bother with
trying to figure her out?  He had more important things to decide right now,
like what he was going to do with his enemy.

He’d spent much
of the night ripping through the heavens, shooting across the sky like a
bullet.  He’d plummeted into the sea and shot back out, cold and soaking wet,
but he flew fast until he was dry again.  Rifter had flown across the world
until he was exhausted, until he thought he’d killed all his senses.

He wanted to
forget that the incident with Wren had ever happened, but it wasn’t always that
easy.

When he felt
he’d calmed down, he came back to the camp, but as soon as he’d landed, he was
thinking about her again – he was made angry all over again.  The flying wasn’t
enough.  He needed to kill something, and he had gone off into the woods to do
just that.  He hadn’t gotten that far, however.  He’d only gotten to the creek
before he’d given up and sat down on the ground.

Rifter closed
his eyes and resolved to put Wren behind him for now.  He was too tired – much
too tired to think about it anymore.  He tried to find his way through the
darkness behind his eyelids, as if he could reach out and connect his mind with
the Scourge’s mind in order to find him.

Where are you?

He felt his
enemy’s presence in his world, but he couldn’t pinpoint the exact location. 
There was a constant pounding in the front of his mind and pressure bearing in
on him from all sides, but he could do nothing with it.  His brow furrowed as
he strained to press forward through the dark, but he found nothing.

On a whim, he
reversed himself in his own head and decided to look backward, but all he found
there were the empty hallways where his memories used to live.  He belonged to
today, and though he might have remembered last week or even last month, the
rest of it was gone except for tiny bits of things that he knew.  If he had ever
wondered where all of his memories had gone, it was now.  That was Wren’s fault
too.  Before, he hadn’t even cared to think about that sort of thing.  She and
her questions had done this to him.

Her soft mouth… 
He
couldn’t think about that now.  It was done with.

Rifter opened
his eyes when he realized that there was someone standing in front of him.

He expected Wren
–
I don’t want to see her right now
– but it wasn’t.  The Tribal
princess was standing there, staring at him with dark, intense eyes.  What was
her name?  He’d forgotten.  She was the painted huntress and that was good
enough.

She had crept up
on him but was holding no weapon, baring only her decorations, dyes and supple
skin.  When she had seen his recognition, she lowered herself to her knees to
sit, looking at him but not saying anything, though it wouldn’t have done her
much good to talk to him.  He couldn’t understand her.

He regarded her
with little interest once he saw that she was no threat.  He didn’t know what
she could have wanted from him.  He had nothing to give her.  When she saw that
he didn’t respond, she merely lowered her head and clasped her hands near her
chest as if to pray.

She was not a
danger to him, but he had no use for her now.  He would tolerate her company if
he could pretend she wasn’t there.

He closed his
eyes again, trying to concentrate, but he was numb in the darkness.

3

Wren had a
sensitive place in the middle of her heart that ached when her conscience was
swirling with trouble.  She could feel that now, and she wouldn’t be able to
rest until she’d made it right.

She just didn’t
know how she was going to do that.

The unfortunate
way Rifter had reacted hadn’t changed her answer to his advance, but she
couldn’t stand that this was between them.  She didn’t know what would happen
when she saw him again, but she had to try.  She’d done the only thing she
could do: she’d asked where he’d gone and started off through the woods after
him.

Maybe he doesn’t
even remember it anymore
.  She supposed that would have been the best thing
that could possibly happen.  If he could just forget it, both of their lives
would have been a little easier.

But what about
all that forgetting?  Her mind was still boggled by what the boys had told her
just a few moments ago.  Rifter had killed the Scourge before, and yet he had
come back.  How could a man be killed and then raised from the dead?  And so
many times at that?  It only meant that the Scourge must not have been fully
human, but why hadn’t she suspected that before?  The boys had told her that
story – about how his coat was made of shadow and the land died beneath his
feet.  That was true.  She had seen it.  How could a man be killed if he wasn’t
really a man?

Maybe it wasn’t
her place to solve that problem.  Right now, she just needed to find Rifter. 
She was preparing to call out when she saw him through the trees, in a clearing
by the water.  His coat of leaves had nearly hidden him from her.

Rifter sat on
the ground, his eyes closed as if resting, but she thought he was probably deep
in thought, maybe about her.  That made her feel terrible all over again.

I hope he
doesn’t hate me.

She took a few
steps closer, hoping that he would open his eyes to notice her there, but she
stopped short when she saw that there was already someone with him.  The native
girl was sitting in front of him in the weeds, her head bowed.  There was no
contact between them, yet Wren felt a flare of jealousy that lit her skin on
fire.  Why was that girl with Rifter?  What did she want?  Wren wanted to run
away as much as she wanted to rush in and interrupt this scene.  They shouldn’t
have been together.

Don’t jump to
conclusions
,
she tried to tell herself. 
Maybe it’s not what you think.  Maybe—

That was the end
of her speculation.  Rifter was still irresponsive, lost in his thoughts, but
Calico had opened her eyes.  The Tribal stared at his face briefly, but as Wren
watched, she leaned closer to him, parted her lips and put her mouth against
his.

Wren felt as
though she’d been stabbed in the chest.  She forgot how to breathe.  She didn’t
want to look, but she couldn’t turn away.  She had to watch – to wait until she
saw Rifter push the girl back.  Of course he would.  He didn’t even know her! 
But the kiss went on for too long – much too long – and though Rifter didn’t
embrace the girl, he didn’t push her away either.  It didn’t take near enough
persuasion before his lips had folded against hers and he was kissing her back.

He’d accepted a
kiss from another.  Wren felt her sensitive heart split in two.

The forest flew
by her as she turned and fled through the trees.  She didn’t know which
direction she was going in and she didn’t care.  She just had to get away.  Hot
tears were building up behind her eyes, but she did not stop to wipe them.  She
wanted to run and hide herself away, but there was nowhere to go.  Maybe that
was the problem with being in this place – in Rifter’s world.  If she didn’t
belong to him, then she didn’t belong anywhere.

4

Rifter hadn’t
asked for the native princess’ company.  He’d kept his eyes shut.  Even when
he’d felt the girl’s lips against his, he didn’t open them.  He wasn’t sure he
should.

He hadn’t known
what to do with her advance in the beginning, but she didn’t relent, refusing
to let him escape her wiles.  He could feel that she was warm as she moved in
against him, putting her hands around his neck, and all she wanted was to
taste.  It only took him a moment to realize that what he needed was to be
kissed.  It was what he had been looking for.  He gave in.

He returned her
kiss to her, wanting her closer.  He could feel her hands on his chest, testing
his flesh and muscle.  This was the sort of bold exploration he desired.  She
was not afraid of her lust.  He kissed her harder, his palm pressing against
the toned flesh of her back.  She didn’t push him away.  He touched her hair—