Nevermor by Lani Lenore Read Free Book Online Page B

– and she was alone.
    Then she heard it
– the familiar sound of the reeds playing that haunting melody.  It was
closer now than it had ever been before, and she knew it was the same song she
had been hearing in her sleep.  It was calling her nearer to it, and how could
she disobey now that it had brought her this far?
    Wren began to
walk down the shoreline, her bare feet pressing into the firm, wet sand.  The
eerie notes of the flute drew her closer until she saw the dark silhouette of
some precarious boulders, topped by a small glowing light that drifted to and
fro like a candle flickering in the wind.  She felt that she had seen that
light before.
    That was when she
saw him for the first time.  He was only a shadow sitting atop the rocks, but
she was sure that he was the source of the music.  When the song stopped,
she knew he had seen her too.
    He slid down and
landed on the sand so agilely that she didn’t hear any disturbance when his
feet touched down.  The light stayed behind, perched on the rocks, and
eventually it died down to nothing and vanished.  The boy approached her in the
moonlight, and as he did, she was gradually able to make him out.
    Who is he?  She wondered
and yet, while she was wary of strangers, she could not help going nearer to
him.  Maybe he could help her.  He could at least tell her where she was so she
could get back to the Home.
    They stopped a
few paces from each other, but he didn’t speak, and she wasn’t sure what to say
to him either.  His face was partially hidden by a hood and she could not tell
how old he was or what he looked like, only that he was a few inches taller
than she was.  As Wren looked him over, she realized how unusually he was
dressed.
    He was in
doeskin pants and dark leather boots that reached to his knees, but strangest
of all was his long coat that was made entirely of waxy leaves, sewn together
in rows.  The hood was of leaves as well, the points jutting out around
his face like sharp teeth.  The coat was open, and he was wearing no shirt
underneath.  She could see his bare chest, firm and strong, youthful.
    Wren nearly
blushed to see his flesh, but she was much too fascinated by him to turn away
in embarrassment.  He was the only one around, and she needed to focus on
discovering her circumstance.
    “Excuse me, but
could you help me?  I seemed to be lost.”
    He didn’t
respond immediately and she found herself wondering if he even spoke English.  Clearly,
he was not from the city.  He looked positively wild!  She determined to
herself that this was what he was – a wild boy – though how this could be so
with the gray city spanning so far, she couldn’t say.  Would a boy like
this even know how to speak?  Wren wondered these things, but she got her
answer when he opened his mouth, still giving her a hard stare.
    “You’re a girl,”
he said, bewildered.  Even though he spoke English, his accent was different
from hers.  He was definitely not local.
    The boy
considered her with utter confusion – she could tell by the tilt of his head,
even though she could not see his face.  She thought it was a very strange
response.
    “Yes,” she
admitted, as if her long hair and gown didn’t make it obvious enough that she
was female.  “Do you know how I got here?”
    He began to step
closer to her, circling around to get a better look.  She turned in place to
watch him as he did so, unwilling to take her eyes off him.
    “You don’t seem
to be a wanderer, so you must be a dreamer, but it’s strange.  You’re a girl . 
Very unusual…”
    Was he talking
to himself?  If he was talking to her, Wren wasn’t sure how she should respond.
    “I’m sorry,” she
said finally, for lack of understanding.  “I don’t know what you mean.”
    She examined him
again as he came back to stand in front of her.  His silence made her just a
bit uneasy.  Would he help her, or not?  Wren noticed something protruding from
his side, and her