Neverland falling, p.13
Neverland Falling, page 13
“Excellent idea.” He looked back at Wendy. “Will that be permissible?”
Wendy pressed her lips together, and she and John gave each other a very, very long look, Michael whining the entire time. Whatever they said in that look, Peter couldn’t tell, but eventually, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Very well. But you have to promise not to touch anything. Or to let Michael touch anything. Understand?”
“What about you, Wendy?” Peter asked, giving Jay the slightest nod. “I’m sure you’re tired. Tink could take you back to the treehouse and let you rest.”
Wendy’s pensive look back at her brothers made her fears clear, but Peter just shook his head. “I’ll still be here with them. And we’ll likely be back before you’re even awake.”
“I don’t know…” Wendy’s frown deepened as she looked at John.
“Oh, come on, Wendy,” John scoffed. “We’re not babies. I’m nearly thirteen.”
“And I’m six!” Michael wailed. “Almost as old as John!”
John made a face at his brother, but Wendy just sighed. “Very well.” Then she rubbed her right temple. “I suppose I am tired.”
“Good.” Peter nodded at Tink. “Please take her home. And you get some rest, too. Just don’t…”
Tink huffed. “Don’t tell Tiger Lily yet. I know.”
Peter grinned and chucked her on the chin. “You’re the best.”
“I know, I know.” She waved her hand at him dismissively before going to the door and out into the night air. Wendy followed her to the door, lifted Nana, and raised up onto her toes. Before taking to the air, though, she hesitated and looked back at Peter.
“Just don’t think about it too hard.” Peter grinned. “Think happy thoughts and let Neverland lead the way, and you’ll be there in no time.”
Wendy nodded, but it was a moment longer before she gave a little hop and lifted into the air. The unwieldy weight of the dog nearly pulled her down at first, and her movements were awkward and uneven, so Peter cupped his hands to his mouth.
“Not too fast, Tink!” he shouted before turning back to Jay.
“Where on earth did you find her?” Jay asked softly, his eyes still on Wendy’s retreating silhouette against the night sky.
“Let’s get these boys their guide,” Peter said. “Then you can tell me what you came for. As happy as I am to see you, Tink was right when she said Tiger Lily won’t be happy when she hears we have visitors.” As it was, Peter was already confident she’d be more than slightly annoyed at the guests he’d invited.
But that was a chance he was willing to take.
Chapter 17
Lost Girl
Tinkerbell!” Wendy called breathlessly. “Wait! I can’t fly that fast!” Unfortunately, without Peter’s help, she was even clumsier than before. Nana was a big dog, and if they were to fly all the way to the island, Wendy knew she’d better use both arms to hold her. Her speed was even slower than it had been on their flight down to the ship, and her guide was quickly zipping around the pockets of wind and toward the island without her.
But in spite of Wendy’s many pleas, Tinkerbell ignored her and continued to race along ahead of her. So Wendy tried something else.
“If you don’t slow down, I’ll fall in the water!”
Tinkerbell slowed slightly. But when she turned, her face was smug. “How do you know that’s not what I want?”
“Because you’ll have to carry me. And my dog.” Usually, Wendy wasn’t one for threatening strangers, particularly short ones who looked younger than herself. But she was getting desperate. Jay’s ship hadn’t looked this far from the island. They’d been flying for five minutes, though, and Wendy felt no closer to the island than she had at the beginning.
“I’ve always wanted to meet you!” she called, hoping a different tactic might work. “Ever since Amos told me about you in his stories, I thought you sounded lovely!” Also a little mischievous, but Wendy wasn’t trying to annoy her guide at this point.
Tinkerbell flipped over and came to fly beside Wendy. Her heart-shaped face nearly glowed even in the dying moon. “So Amos talks about me, does he?”
Wendy nodded emphatically. “He likes to tell about all the pranks you’ve helped Peter play. And how you keep the boys in line.”
Tink snorted. “He’s one to talk. The brat never listened to a thing I said.” Even her voice was ethereal, high and sweet, almost like a small child’s.
“He remembers you, though. In many ways, he said you were as close to perfect as any girl comes.”
Nana whimpered.
Tinkerbell rolled her eyes again, but a small, self-satisfied smile turned up the corners of her lips. Then it disappeared as she turned to face Wendy directly. “And what did you think?” There was a dangerous glint to her eye. Wendy would need to take care.
They passed the island’s southern beach, then Tinkerbell turned and led them up the eastern bank. Wendy had pictured this moment for nearly all her life. She was about to set foot on Neverland.
Neverland.
But the magic and colors and dreams she had hoped for weren’t there. The moon was nearly gone, now that she looked around, and all she could see beneath them was grass that looked much like a swamp. Drops of water began to pelt her skin and wet her clothes. When she looked up again, the stars were gone.
“I…” Wendy tore her eyes away from the dim shadows below. “I always thought from the stories that perhaps you might be lonely.”
Whether Tinkerbell had looked mildly amused or morbidly curious before, Wendy hadn’t been able to tell, but now every sign of a smile disappeared.
“Lonely? Why in the blazes would I be lonely?”
“Well.” Wendy spoke faster, shifting Nana the best she could. But her arms were becoming so sore she didn’t know how long she’d be able to hold the dog, so her next words came out rather breathlessly. “I supposed you might wish for some sort of female companionship. You know, a friend.”
“You really know nothing about Peter, do you? Or me, for that matter.”
“But I’d like to!” Wendy had to raise her voice above the growing rain. “I want to be your friend!”
“Let’s get something out in the open, shall we?” Tink came to a halt, whirled around, and crossed her arms. “I don’t like you, and I don’t want you here. In fact, if it were up to me, you would be marrying that imbecile back in the Old World.” And with that, she turned and disappeared into the night.
“Tinkerbell?” Wendy cried. “Tinkerbell?”
Her only answer was the sound of thunder exploding above. The force of it knocked her from the sky, and she and Nana tumbled down. In the very dim light from before the storm, the marsh had looked wet but soft, as its tall grasses stretched upward and over themselves. When Wendy fell in, however, the first thing she felt wasn’t soft grasses or mud. Instead, she hit her back on a branch and her head on another. Twigs scratched her arms and legs and face, She was on her back, and she could taste blood on her upper lip.
“Nana?” She groaned as she pushed herself into a sitting position. “Nana?” Panic began to set in as she realized she couldn’t find her dog. “Nana!”
Just as she was about to start screaming, the familiar sensation of Nana’s wet nose poking and prodding at her brought new tears of relief. “You’re here!” she sobbed, hugging the dog’s wet, furry neck as Nana continued to check her all over. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” But then Nana’s gentle nose bumped her ankle, making Wendy cry out yet again.
Growing up on a farm had brought Wendy her fair share of pain. There was that time when she was three that she thought she could fly after listening to one of Old Amos’s stories. She’d jumped off the main barn, and landed hard on the ground. When it had happened, she’d been sure in her little mind she’d never walk again. Her father always swore that if Silas hadn’t seen her, she would have lain there all night on the ground because she was hidden so well by a haystack.
That was probably when her father had taken a disliking to stories about Peter Pan.
After recovering from the barn incident, she was nearly trampled by a spooked horse at the ripe old age of four. Other incidents such as mishandled tools, angry animals, and the occasional slip and trip, had hardened her to many forms of pain over the years. But this…
For the first time since she was three, Wendy wondered if she would be able to walk again. Her back throbbed like someone had kicked her, and her legs weren’t far behind. Her ankle felt as though someone was trying to bludgeon it to pieces. The cold, wet rain made her shiver violently, shaking everything and making the pain radiate out to her fingertips and toes. Maybe it would be better to just lie here.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, strange objects began to pelt her body. Rocks, pebbles, even sticks. Nana began to bark and growl ferociously, and Wendy threw her arms around her dog and squeezed her eyes shut.
Then something growled.
Nana’s hackles rose up, and she crouched as though ready to spring, her eyes on something behind Wendy. Slowly, stiffly, Wendy turned her head to look behind her. At first, she saw nothing. But another bolt of lightning split the sky, and in that moment, she made out two shiny eyes and a long, thick, leathery snout. The snout opened slightly, and another growl rolled out.
Suddenly, Wendy’s ankle didn’t hurt so badly after all.
Her arms and legs and back screamed in pain as she rolled onto her side. Out of the corner of her eye in another flash of lightning, she could see the crocodile begin to raise itself out of the water and up onto the bank about fifteen feet away.
“Nana,” Wendy whispered, hoping the whisper sounded somewhat like her fiercest command. “Stay!” If the dog tried to attack the creature and was hurt in the process, she would never forgive herself.
To her immense relief, Nana didn’t attack. Wendy tried to push herself to her knees, but she slipped and fell so hard she nearly hit her head on the ground again. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself onto her hands and knees once more. This time, she didn’t bother to look back. Instead, she crawled as fast as she could on all fours away from the creature. Nana, to her great relief, seemed to change her mind about fighting the crocodile and chose to shove her head beneath Wendy’s left shoulder to help her instead.
Over and over again, an arm or a leg would collapse, and Wendy would stumble into yet another deepening puddle of mud. Each time, Nana helped her up. But each time, it also was more difficult than the last to go on.
My brothers, she begged the Maker as she pushed herself until she trembled. Keep them safe. As she thought this prayer, she realized she could go no further. She let herself fall onto the sandy, muddy ground, and this time, despite Nana’s whining, she couldn’t get up.
Chapter 18
Please
As soon as Wendy and Tink were out of sight and the boys had been handed over to the crew, Jay and Peter moved back into Jay’s quarters. Jay poured Peter a goblet of mead and handed it to him. Then he sat down and leaned back in his chair and studied Peter for a long moment.
“So,” Peter said, feeling strangely unsure of himself, “you’re uh…you’re not twelve anymore.”
Jay arched an eyebrow. “Neither are you, Peter.”
Peter took a long swig of his drink, then set it down and pushed it back. “Yeah, I know.”
“How’s Tiger Lily taking it?”
Peter shrugged. “I haven’t talked about it, and neither has she.”
“She can’t have missed it. You’re at least three inches taller, and I can see that shadow on your chin even now.”
Peter ran a hand over his face. Sure enough, as he hadn’t shaved since the morning before, the traitorous stubble was there, mocking him, reminding him of everything he was not.
Like thirteen.
“What happened?” Jay leaned forward, his dark eyes searching Peter’s. They were bright and full of interest.
“Same reason I wasn’t eight when you met me. Spend enough time running around in the human world, and you start to age like they do.” He sniffed. “Still, three or four years of physical aging in seventeen isn’t bad.”
“It is when it took you hundreds of years to age five.” Jay leaned back and shook his head. “Creeping closer to being a man. Bringing in a woman who’s nearly just as grown. You’re risking much, Peter.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “It’s really very simple. Wendy heard the stories from one of my old boys, and I heard her telling her brothers stories of Neverland one night. When her parents tried to force her into a marriage she wasn’t ready for, I offered her asylum here.” He shrugged. “She’s going to help watch the boys and keep them out of Tiger Lily’s hair. Everyone keeps the rules. Everyone wins.”
But Jay was running his hand through his curly, black hair which shone in the flickering light of the candles. “I don’t know. I feel like you’re really playing with fire this time.”
Peter gave him a dark grin as he finished off his drink. “Isn’t that what boyhood is for?” He grabbed the water pitcher and refilled his goblet. “So how about you tell me what you came here for before Tiger Lily sends the fae after you?”
Jay’s teasing expression melted, and Peter felt sorry already for whatever it was he was about to hear.
“A few years after we found my mother and my uncle, I learned that my mother was struggling with sickness again. But this one was worse.”
Peter sat up. “Worse than the plague?” How many boys would he be taking in this time? His numbers had been higher than ever before the last time the plague had made its rounds through Ashland. At one point, he’d housed no fewer than nineteen.
“Not in the way you’re thinking. It’s not something catching, exactly. More individual…” Jay stopped and cleared his throat a few times. “She shakes.”
“Shakes?”
Jay nodded. “Sometimes more, sometimes less. But it grows worse by the year. A physician my uncle brought in from the east finally diagnosed it as a shaking palsy last month.”
“And how is it cured?” Peter asked. But from the look in Jay’s eyes, he already knew the answer.
Jay stood and walked to face the ocean through the large, curved black window. Minutes passed before he broke the silence once again.
“It isn’t.”
“I’m…I’m sorry,” Peter said softly. “Truly, I am.”
“You must know.” Jay turned. “I hate asking it, but you’re the only one I have left to turn to.”
Peter stared at him for a moment before rubbing his hands over his face. “Jay—”
“You know I would never come to you if I weren’t desperate.” Jay fell into the chair beside Peter’s. “But there is no other way to help her. And I can’t lose her again, Peter.” His voice shook, and his neck was so tensed it looked like he might burst a blood vessel.
“Jay,” Peter said through a throat so tight he could barely speak, “I want to. And you know that. I just…” He closed his eyes and sighed. “You know I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s against the rules.” Tears stung Peter’s eyes. “And you know that.”
“The rules you’re breaking even as we speak?” Jay snapped, tears running down his face.
“I’m older than I was, but I’m not a man yet.”
“And Wendy?”
“I saved a girl from a marriage she wasn’t ready for.” Peter lifted his chin. “If that’s not the definition of a girl in need, I’m not sure what is.”
“What about the fae?” Jay spat before standing. “They’re nearly all adults. Hardly any children among them. And none of Tiger Lily’s awful predictions have come true for them.”
Peter ran his hands through his hair. “Because I didn’t bring them here as people.”
Whatever Jay was about to say, he drew back. “What?”
Peter let out a gusty breath. “When I created Neverland, most of the fae were adults already. They’re not here so much in existence as creatures who can think and eat and feel. Rather, they’re…I built them in as part of the landscape. They’re just as much a part of Neverland as the island and the trees.”
Jay scowled. “None of it’s real, Peter. You can’t fool me.”
“Oh, it’s real, all right.” Peter stood. “Just as real as the island Neverland is built upon or the ocean waves that surround it. I didn’t create those. I just made them…bigger. Better. That’s all.”
“Then build something new around her!” Jay argued. “I know you can do it! Just call her a new kind of flower or evergreen or something. Let her live here where she’ll be safe!”
But Peter was already shaking his head. This had been a bad idea. All of it. “It doesn’t work that way, Jay. And you know it.”
“But—”
“Neverland,” Peter said, cutting him off, “was created too long ago. I can’t change the rules now. You know what will happen if I try.”
“And what will happen, Peter?” Jay shouted. “What will happen if you break those ridiculous laws you and the fae came up with at the dawn of your own time?”
Peters pushed his stool back under the table. “I believe I’m done here.” He went to the door, then paused and turned. When he did, Jay didn’t look nearly as polished as he had earlier that night. The top button of his shirt was undone, his hair was haphazard, and he clutched the edge of the table with one hand.
“I’m sorry about your mother,” Peter said softly as he opened the door. Rain was beginning to pelt the deck, splashing against him as he held the door. “Truly. I wish I could save her. But the life she gained would be lost by others. And I cannot have that on my conscience.”
“Peter!” Jay’s cry sounded strangled, but Peter steeled himself and closed his eyes.
“I’ll give you time to gather any supplies you need to get you wherever you’re going. But I want you gone as soon as possible.” His voice felt like it might break when he spoke the next words. “And please, don’t return.”
