Trapped by Neverland

Chapter Six

In Which the Status Quo Shifts

Wendy smiled at his confusion. She faced forward. “Leq?”

From James’ perspective, her tiny faery popped into existence right before his eyes. He jumped.

“Leq is a sheerie,” Wendy explained. “You may have heard the term will-o’-the-wisp?”

He nodded slowly. “Why is he here?”

“I befriended a sheerie colony as a child. There are usually one to six of them with me at any given time.”

“So you don’t talk to yourself?” A smile crept across his well-formed lips.

“Oh, no.” She flapped her hand. “I talk to myself all the time. Can’t blame that one on the sheeries.”

James stared at the mini person, who stared right back. “I’m afraid I don’t understand how a sheerie can help us.”

“Sheeries can find each other anywhere. Leq has stayed with us the whole time.” The unusually solemn faery continued trying to intimidate James, who remained undaunted. “Disa, on the other hand, has been with the crew.”

“Will they listen to . . . Disa?” he asked.

Wendy nodded. “Disa can be pretty forceful when he wants to be. Plus, he’s been playing with Phillip, and I’m pretty sure Tam knows about the sheeries.” Her words trailed off as she tried to remember who on Neverland had been privy to the sheerie secret. Her portion of the colony hadn’t been as discreet as they tended to be on the mainland.

“That’s brilliant!” James invaded her space and kissed her full on the mouth. He pulled back quickly and asked, “Is this—?”

“Good. This is very good,” Wendy interrupted, then tugged him close to finish what he started.

During a pause for breath, she recalled a pertinent detail. “I should also mention”—his eyes narrowed at her words with good-natured suspicion—“I’m pretty sure that dark speck in the distance is the Jolly Roger.”

James didn’t bother looking toward the water. “We have time,” he dismissed, then resumed kissing her.

Eventually, their interaction included words. James apologized for treating her poorly at the beginning of their acquaintance, and Wendy expressed remorse for her cranky outbursts.

“You’re doing quite well for not having eaten in several hours,” he praised with a glint in his eye.

Wendy ran her fingers up his beard and into the short, salty curls on his head. “I have a sufficient distraction.”

“Is that all I am to you? A distraction?” He widened his eyes in mock horror.

A sly smile curled her lips. “I’ll let you distract me for as long as you want.”

“I expect that to be a very. Long. Time,” he promised, punctuating each word with a kiss.

“Woohoo! I knew it!” a shout punctured their cozy bubble.

James and Wendy broke their embrace and turned to face the approaching yawl.

Smee beamed from his spot at the front. Maaka and Kalaakaar couldn’t look their captain in the eye, but Wendy saw both smile when they thought no one was looking. Leaving the giant corpse behind (after rescuing the sword), the pair climbed into the yawl. The entire crew was there to greet and help pull them aboard. After some friendly razzing of the new couple, the men moved to return to their usual assignments.

James gave orders to sail closer to shore, then stop at first sight of land. “We don’t have a firm destination in mind, so we need to be ready for anything.”

Several of them saluted as they headed off to obey.

“We’re not going to Marfa?” Wendy prodded.

He set a hand at her elbow and began walking. “Those goods can wait; it's nothing perishable.” He ducked his head to enter the door that led to the brig, then turned back and snagged her hand. “They will understand the delay if we succeed in taking down Pan.”

Wendy squeezed his hand. “We’re going to rescue my brothers?”

“We’re going to rescue your brothers. It’s time.”

She huffed. “Sophus was right. That big-nosed weasel.”

His laughter bounced off the narrow hallway, filling the darkness with warmth. “Get cleaned up, then we’re having a planning meeting in my quarters.”

His kiss goodbye was short and sweet. Wendy opened the brig door, glad she hadn’t bothered to take the keys with her on their latest adventure. Her pockets would have made a donation to the sea. That thought reminded her that a good number of the crew had likely “donated” their smallest possessions to Disa’s stash. She halfheartedly checked around her cell, then decided to attend to her toilette first.

There wasn’t enough fresh water for cooking, drinking, and bathing, so Wendy had to settle for toweling off really well. She now realized just how kindly she’d been treated from the start. Changing into a green dress that she hoped was as flattering as it felt, Wendy took the time to arrange her hair with the bits and bobs James had purchased for her. The style was still wind-resistant but with extra sparkles.

Wendy left her cell still tired, still hungry, but feeling pretty. On deck, the two sheeries were being lauded as heroes by the available crew. Leq seemed to be zippin’ purely to show off. Disa flipped between his forms rapidly, then got the youngest boys to play a game with him. Leq demanded a part of the attention and joined his cohort in appearing and disappearing while Davi and the others guessed where the faeries would turn up next.

Smee approached and gestured with a head-tilt and a thumb motion. She followed him to the captain’s quarters. Many of the oldest crew members were already there. James rummaged around his desk as Smee placed his hand at Wendy’s back and directed her to a chair at the table. She settled into the middle seat he had indicated, and he took the chair to her left. Maaka and Mücahit had been chatting by the windows but wandered over to sit across from her and Smee.

The door opened, and Mirai trotted in. Gharza followed with a tray full of food. Wendy was ready to declare her undying love when he unloaded multiple dishes in front of her first. He set the same number at the spot to her right, then offered the remaining dishes to the rest of the table.

The cat, who looked more gray than orange today, hopped onto the chair at the head of the table. She peered down its length for a moment, then curled into a nap position. James left the mess of papers at his desk. He observed the feline occupying the head chair, then moved to sit beside Wendy with a slight smirk.

Gharza laid the empty tray by the door and sat across from his captain. The conversation remained light while everyone filled their bellies. The others finished their share in a timely fashion; Wendy kept working through all the dishes Gharza had allotted her, plus one or two he’d originally given James. As the cook collected the plates and bowls, she came to the realization that while her hunger had been satiated, her current fullness threatened to send her to Dreamland.

James stood to snag a large map from his desk. He laid it on the cleared surface of the table, and Wendy recognized Neverland. “Here’s what we know: Sophus tried to kill me on Pan’s orders. A mermaid passed him a message demanding his immediate return to the island.” He met the eyes of each person at the table. “Something must have happened.”

Kalaakaar rubbed the knuckles of one hand against the silver of his sideburns. “Sophus shared grand plans for capturing Pan. What do we think of those?”

“There was no ‘training accident,’ ” Mücahit rasped. He scowled. “Bet Pan is still running at near full power.”

“Wendy.” James turned to her, and she pinched her leg as a reminder to focus on his words and not his mouth. “Tell us what happened with Sadiq. Whose hand delivered the killing blow?”

She grimaced. “Peter tried to get Sadiq to do it, but in the end, Peter held the knife. And kicked him off the cliff,” she added.

“So we know his power boost isn’t as good as what he gets from a willing sacrifice.” Maaka nodded thoughtfully. “That’s helpful for us. Unless he got to someone else.”

Unwilling to dwell on the possibility that one or both of her brothers was gone, Wendy broke the dismal silence that followed. “What do we actually need to have happen, to capture Peter?”

James answered, “He needs to be encased or surrounded by iron to be transferred to the authorities.”

Wendy was nodding when Gharza added his two cents. “I know that imprisonment is the goal. So Pan can be held accountable for his actions”—he checked for affirmation around the table—“but are we all on board with the idea that he may need to die if we can’t stop him?”

Grim faces told her that everybody accepted that probability. They might not want it to come to that, but they were each willing to do what was necessary.

She brought up the next roadblock to her understanding of any plans they might have discussed in the past. “How can we get the authorities to believe us?”

James walked back to his desk.

“If we can release the kitsune, we can bring them to Neverland,” Kalaakaar said. “That would back up our claims fairly well.”

“Great!” Mücahit said in his gravel-filled voice, then added dryly, “How do we do that?”

“Does Tam know about the kitsune? He lived in Fanostrin until he was about eight,” Maaka pointed out.

“Bring him here, please,” James requested. Maaka left to do so. “We also have this.” The heavy volume he placed before Wendy required both his hand and his hook.

She brushed her fingers over the dark leather cover. “What is this?”

James inclined his head toward Smee before sitting beside her again. “Smee here has been faithfully researching and compiling every account of Pan’s crimes that we can find. He’ll add yours soon.”

Wendy turned sad eyes to her tablemate. She could only imagine the toll that would take. He dipped his chin in solemn acknowledgment.

Tam and Maaka appeared in the doorway. “You wanted to see me, Cap’n?”

“Yes, thank you.” James pointed toward the opposite end of the table. “Have a seat, please.”

Tam squashed a grin when he saw Mirai snoozing in the head chair. He sat in his designated spot, straightened his back, and lifted his chin. Wendy bit the inside of her lip. He was just too adorable.

“We’re hoping you can tell us about the kitsune Pan enslaved, or stories you know of them.” James leaned his right elbow on the table and gave the boy his full attention.

Wendy suddenly wanted to hold his hand, but since it was on the table in plain sight, she slipped her fingers around his hook instead. James kept his eyes on Tam, even as the corners of his lips inched upward.

“Peter didn’t let me get close to his kitsune,” the boy said. “And he didn’t like questions about it.” He hunched his shoulders. That must have been shortly before Peter turned on him.

James kindly moved the discussion along. “What do you know about the kitsune in general?”

Tam rolled one shoulder. “The older ones are really wise. Young kitsune can be lured in with food.” The way his body shifted, Wendy guessed he had begun to swing his legs under the table. “Well, more like babies.”

“So you think Pan trapped this one as an infant?” Kalaakaar asked.

“He had to. Kitsune are too smart otherwise.”

Wendy absently rubbed the smooth metal between her fingers. “Peter told me the kitsune messes with time when ships land.”

Tam made a face and bobbed his head from side to side. “Kitsune can mess with time, but usually they mess with people’s perceptions, give ’em dreams and stuff.”

A sigh left her lips. “Another case of me filling in what Peter wanted me to think, no doubt.”

The more experienced members of the group, which boiled down to . . . everybody, made expressions of sympathy. Smee patted her shoulder.

“Assuming Pan caught this one as a baby, how is he controlling it?” Gharza wanted to know.

Tam’s chin rose in the air. “The only way to control a kitsune is with magic.” He emphasized his words with a sharp nod.

“Wait, Peter can work magic, too?” Wendy asked.

Maaka answered, “That’s how he does the shadow thing and part of his persuasion, among other stuff.”

“He’s not a faery in disguise, right?” she demanded in jest.

James took the question seriously. “Not as far as we know. He’s something other, though.”

A weight settled in her stomach.

“What defense do we have against magic?” Kalaakaar asked. The lines around his mouth and eyes deepened.

“There’s somethin’ about salt,” Mücahit volunteered.

Gharza rapped his knuckles on the table. “That might work for little faeries, I dunno, but Neverland is an island in the ocean. Couldn’t the kitsune just walk into the water?”

A disappointed rumble of assent rounded the room.

“You said iron hurts Peter,” Wendy said to James. “Would it affect his magic?”

Tam coughed. When every eye turned toward him, he bit his lip, then offered, “When he wanted me to jump off the cliff, I was wearing this.” He pulled a leather cord out from under his collar. The pendant appeared to be a palm-sized fishhook, worn smooth. Wendy wouldn’t want to tangle with the fish that was meant to catch. “I think it’s iron, maybe.”

Smee held out his hand, and Tam pulled the cord over his head and passed it over. As the old man examined the item, a smile grew on his weathered face. When he beamed toward the captain—and advertised his missing teeth—James grinned back. “I think we have our answer, men.”

A cheer rang around the table.

“Where did you get it?” Kalaakaar wanted to know. “Pan used to do iron checks when I was there.”

“It washed up on the beach one day.” Tam’s little chest was puffed. Being the hero of the moment amongst your idols must be pretty great, Wendy thought. “I just thought it looked neat,” the boy added with forgivably false humility.

James gently detached Wendy’s fingers from his hook to stand and walk to his desk. He returned with an inkwell, pen, and paper. “Everyone needs to keep iron on their person at all times.” He scribbled a note to that effect, then addressed Tam. “Was it under your shirt then?”

“Always.”

“It may require skin contact to be effective.” More words were added to the page.

James continued to take notes as the group worked through the “plan” Sophus had advocated and debated whether or not any part could be used to their advantage. The weight didn’t dissolve, but Wendy felt like she could breathe more easily as she observed the determination of these men who had everything to lose but refused to let a monster continue unchecked.

“I do think Sophus made a decent point about using this path,” Mücahit said, running his finger along a stretch that led from the beach to a clearing they were potentially basing their plan around.

Already shaking her head, Wendy disagreed with a negative hum. “My brothers and I helped the Lost Boys install anti-pirate traps there the week before I left.”

Looks of resigned disappointment met her apologetic expression.

“What kind of traps?” Gharza asked with the sort of hope that expects to be unfulfilled.

“The pointy-sticks-in-pits kind.”

He cringed. “Never mind.”

When Tam joined the crew, he had helped Kalaakaar update their map with the snares, nets, pits, and ambush sites that he knew about. Wendy shared her knowledge and their navigator artist added three more.

They examined the new map, which had more Peter-built dangers than safe spots.

“Someone’s becoming paranoid,” Gharza observed.

Mirai poked her head above the table and scanned the conspirators. Her gaze settled on Wendy. She then pulled herself onto the surface, stalked over to the woman, and nudged her way into Wendy’s lap. Nobody else paid much heed to the feline's actions, as they had moved on to discussing the tunnels that branched out from their secret cove. James moved away to find a sketch of the underground portions of Neverland they knew about.

Stroking the cat became therapeutic as Mirai added a rumbly purr to the warm weight that was compressing Wendy’s worries into a more manageable size. Soon, the calming presence and the lack of restful sleep from the night before created a powerful state of drowsiness. She had stopped listening and participating for some time before James noticed that her eyes were closed more often than they were open. He paused the discussion to lead her over to the couch. Gharza used that opportunity to snag Tam as kitchen help, and the two left to begin dinner preparations. Wendy fell asleep listening to the voices of men preparing for battle, with a blanket that smelled like the man who finally had the right to occupy her dreams and a cat curled against the small of her back.

Sometime later, she woke feeling refreshed and safe. She pulled up the blanket that had fallen off her shoulders but stayed mostly put, as Mirai had decided that a full-body bath needed to happen on Wendy’s ankles. The look of feline fury directed at her when she tried to shift her legs convinced Wendy that she was comfortable in her current position.

Tam and Gharza had yet to return with dinner. She could just see James staring out the windows behind her with his hook poked into the groove of the top sill. When the scarring on the couch’s backrest caught her eye, she scanned the closest wood furnishings and noticed several more places that bore evidence of his tendency to “rest” the point on edges and rims. Woodpecker, she thought fondly.

Mücahit and Kalaakaar were halfheartedly arguing about something on the map. Smee had his thumb along his jaw and his fingers across his mouth as he stared through the wall, deep in thought. Maaka gazed at the floorboards as he paced with his arms behind his back. Apparently, the most brilliant plan-to-end-all-plans hadn’t been determined yet.

She stretched out her arms, careful not to dislodge the meticulous cat. “I assume we’re bringing Peter to the authorities.” James adjusted his stance to face her. “How are you going to get him on the ship, and how will you keep him contained and powerless?”

“We’ve got iron chains, but we’re still working on the first part.” Mücahit tugged on his collar.

James covered the distance between the windows and the couch in two steps. “The cell next to yours is reinforced on all six sides with iron. That part isn’t a problem,” he assured her.

“Too bad you don’t have a trapdoor like Sophus did for his croc.” She sat up, then scratched Mirai’s head to appease the inconvenienced beast. “Ta-da! Instant brig access.”

She held out her hands and wiggled her fingers with a smirk, but James wasn’t looking at her. He had stilled completely.

The others asked what she was talking about. As she recounted this morning’s adventure, James continued to live in his own head. After the story had been shared and her captain’s heroic efforts had been properly praised, she poked the hand that James had left on the back of the couch.

“Did we break your brain?”

James blinked, then focused on Smee. “Farrah?”

Instant understanding filled Smee’s eyes, and he nodded agreement.

Maaka clapped his hands together. “Farrah. Of course!”

Kalaakaar and Mücahit were only seconds behind in their celebration. Wendy waited for the clamor to die down, but when she opened her mouth to request clarification, Gharza appeared with food. This set off a different kind of fervor, and she forgot to ask by the time it settled.

“Have we figured out how we’re going to utilize the sheeries?” Wendy popped the last bite into her mouth, then pushed it into her cheek to say, “As scouts, of course. But what else?”

James looked like someone had smacked him in the face with a fish. “We haven’t discussed it. I can’t believe I forgot them.”

She set a hand on his arm. “Did you sleep at all last night?” When he shook his head, she added, “You can’t expect your mind to work at full power that way.”

“That’s a fact,” Mücahit agreed. “Go to bed, Cap’n. We’ll start fresh in the morning.”

James tried to protest, but the unified agreements from his crew drowned him out. Plates were gathered and the room set to rights by the men, who dragged Wendy out with them. From the glimpse she caught of the captain’s face before the door closed, he, too, had been hoping for a goodnight kiss.

Back in her cell, Wendy studied the bars next to her. Now that she knew where to look, the differences between her space and the next were obvious. The cage designated for Peter was smaller, had more visible iron (including panels on the floor and ceiling), and had a complicated mechanism that prevented the prisoner from accessing the lock. There was no cot or chair, nothing that could become a weapon, and everything in Wendy’s cell, aside from the new curtain, was out of reach. Now that she knew about his magic, she was unable to trust that these measures would be sufficient, but she couldn’t imagine any additional strategies. As she snuggled into bed and bid the already sleeping sheeries goodnight, a thought tickled her mind. The cell she had claimed was likely intended for James. He would never leave Peter unsupervised.

James was a much more pleasant thought to dwell on, and Wendy fell asleep reliving their conversation on the sandbar. Before sleep claimed her, she realized the ship had begun moving again.

*****

After rolling out of bed the next morning, Wendy rushed through her grooming routine, eager to find James. The cool morning breeze teased the tendrils around her face. Her dashing captain was nowhere to be found, but some of the younger boys were gathered around an open barrel.

Tam and Davi both held cups, while Cooper leaned in as far as his arm could reach. He pulled back and shook his head, then handed Tam another cup.

As she watched, Cooper hefted the entire barrel onto his shoulder and poured out the last dregs into the boys’ cups.

Davi stuck out his tongue. “I hate this part.”

“Why?” Wendy asked.

“ ’Cause the bottom of the barrel tastes funny.”

“And it’s orange,” Tam contributed. “Minerals, or something.”

She tilted her head. “What minerals turn water orange?”

Raghu, who had been walking by, peered into Davi’s cup. “Yeah, that looks like the time I knocked a couple nails into a bucket before bed and didn’t fish ’em out for a week,” he teased.

That sparked some intriguing thoughts in Wendy. “Iron nails?”

“Naturally,” Raghu laughed.

“And this is the water you get from the island?”

“Yeah, the tunnels give access to clean groundwater.” Wendy could see that James or one of the others had passed on the results of yesterday’s meeting when Raghu opened his mouth in an “O.” “You think the iron in the water is why we can sail in and out of Neverland?”

Wendy nodded. “I asked Peter if the streams were safe or if they had a well, and he made an excuse about wells being too hard for little boys to dig. And since it rained every day, the collection barrels were always full.”

Raghu tapped his chin. “That makes a lot of sense. Something to tell Cap’n this morning.”

The entire crew had a short meeting on the deck soon after. James outlined what they had already determined and mentioned that they were currently going to see Farrah. Tam looked confused at first, but the general excitement rubbed off on him and he started smiling, too.

After the meeting, Wendy followed James to the quarterdeck. She slid her arm through his and held on. “Who’s Farrah, and why are we so delighted?”

Kalaakaar laughed from his position at the helm.

“Farrah Wright is the ironsmith who helped us install the cell in the first place. You may have noticed that our brig is unusually located,” James said.

“Sure.” Wendy made a face and shook her head at the helmsman. The wrinkles around his mouth deepened as he held in a second laugh.

“Farrah had concerns about transporting a magically persuasive person through the entire ship to reach the very bottom.”

“Plus the damage he might do down there,” Kalaakaar contributed.

James nodded. “She suggested we move it up.”

“Was she the one that improved the cell you’re going to stay in?”

He smiled at her. “You’re quick. Yes, she had her hand in most of the details. Her husband is a carpenter by trade—”

“Took on Raghu as an apprentice,” the helmsman interrupted. Wendy thought she might be a corrupting influence if he felt comfortable cutting off his captain like that.

James pursed his lips and sent her a comical look of longsuffering. “Yes, he worked with her to create what we needed.” Wendy gave him her best puppy-eyed look of sympathy and readily agreed when he suggested a walk around the deck.

She waited a whole quarter of the deck before broaching a subject that had been picking at the back of her mind. “So.”

James peeked at her from the corner of his eye. “Yes . . .?”

“I know you’re not a full-blown, child-killing, ruthless, smelly pirate anymore—”

“Thanks, I think.”

“You’re welcome—”

“Wait—” he said at the same time. “You know I’m not that wretched human being anymore? Or now you know I’m not like that?”

“The second, of course.” She waved the hand that he wasn’t holding. “Back to what I was saying: If you aren’t a pirate, what do you do? I can’t imagine plotting against Peter pays the bills.”

Ahead of them, Tam, Davi, and Phillip were sitting in a tight circle on the deck.

“It . . . doesn’t.” James slowed his words down as they came upon the boys. “What are you three up to?” he inquired frankly.

Tam and Phillip jumped. They pulled back, and Wendy could see her sheeries at the center of the circle surrounded by small, shiny objects.

Davi grinned and held up a sail-mending needle. “We’re playing treasure hunt!”

Wendy leveled a scowl at her faeries, who had the grace to almost look abashed. She softened her expression and addressed the boys, “When you’re done, you’ll make extra certain that each and every item goes back where it belongs, yes?”

Phillip and Tam responded to her sing-songy not-a-threat the way her brothers did. “Yes, ma’am!” they chorused.

“Excellent. Carry on, gentlemen.” She swept past them, carting James along.

“Well done,” he murmured as they moved out of earshot.

“Thank you. You were saying?”

“Right.” He scratched his cheek. “Justice that looks like revenge can’t support us. Technically, we’re merchants.” He brandished his prosthetic. “The hook helps sell the pirate thing, which cuts down on interception from actual pirates.”

“Hmm.”

“You don’t believe me?”

Wendy heard the hurt he tried to disguise and hurried to assure him. “Oh, no, I believe you. I’m curious about something Raghu said.”

James scanned the deck as though searching for his crewmate. “And what did Raghu say?”

She blew out a puff of air. “Oh, he made it sound like Tomi wasn’t the most upstanding of men.”

“He’s not the most upstanding of men,” James agreed.

Wendy tilted her head as she looked at him. “Then why do you do business with him?”

The captain stepped around a crate and narrowly avoided bumping into Mücahit. The bosun waggled his eyebrows at the pair, then let them pass. When Wendy peered over her shoulder a few steps later, he was following them with his hands on his hips and a whistle on his lips. She rolled her eyes.

“Trading with Tomi adds an air of illegitimacy that aids the pirate act. It also comes with a wealth of information. Thanks to him, we’ve rescued more than a couple of children who didn’t become Lost Boys because we got to them first.” He noticed Mücahit then, and frowned. “We never deal in stolen or illicit goods, if that makes you feel better.”

“It does, but only because I couldn’t imagine you doing so now that I know more about you. It just didn’t fit.”

That was the last bit of conversation for the rest of the day that felt even semi-private. Since the others had become aware that some romantic feelings between the two were out in the open, it seemed that they believed the pair required a chaperone. At all times. No matter where the couple went, or even if they were in full view of the whole crew, someone always joined them within a minute. The Jolly Roger wasn’t that big!

Davi let it slip that Smee had organized the chaperone rotation after gleefully announcing that it was his turn when he found the pair trying to take advantage of the empty galley after lunch. The older crew members tended to give them a decent amount of space—as long as they stuck to very public locations, that is. Privacy was a concept the younger ones, on the other hand, had yet to grasp.

Despite the interference that Wendy was choosing to believe was well-intended, she and James managed to cover a wealth of topics. When Mücahit babysat them a second time, he spent an inordinate amount of time tuning his fiddle, and James told Wendy a bit about what he remembered of his mother. Wendy reciprocated with stories about her birth father while Maaka swabbed the same twenty deck boards for thirty minutes straight. James learned more about her brothers during the hour that Davi held Wendy’s hand and dragged her to his favorite places on the ship. She learned more of the history of the Jolly Roger’s crew while they helped a quiet Cooper repair a barrel.

For as irritating as the day could have been, Wendy found herself enjoying the bulk of it. This, in turn, caused guilt to flare on a regular basis as head and heart fought about the irresponsibility of falling in love while her brothers were in danger. The wildly vacillating emotions encouraged her to seek her bed early. So many feelings in so little time had depleted her energy reserves.

*****

Davi came and woke Wendy the next morning. He pounded on the outer brig door and shouted until she stumbled over to open it.

“It’s dark outside. What do you need?” she yawned.

“We’re here!”

“Already? Fine, I’ll be up soon.”

“You better,” Davi called as he raced toward the stairs.

Wendy grabbed the first dress that came to hand, pleased that she had snagged a clean one on the first try. In the dim light, she thought it was a pale pink. Either that, or she was about to wear a nightgown for her introduction to the woman the Jolly Roger’s crew was completely infatuated with. Talk about first impressions. At least the new one was stylish.

She undid her sleep braid and quickly reformed the plait without brushing. Davi had been impatient, and it felt like the ship had slowed to a near stop. The sheeries were given the option to come with or stay inside. Leq rolled over on her cot with a grunt, but Disa sleepily buzzed after her. When he flew into the wall, she placed him on her shoulder for safekeeping.

On deck, a brisk wind wound its way through the crates and rigging. Wendy crossed her arms and wished she had thought to search for the shawl that had been included with the dresses. A thick mist covered the calm water. It seemed to brighten as she watched, and Wendy knew that dawn couldn’t be far off.

She found James at the railing where it opened up for the gangplank. “Where are we?”

He looked away from the mist to greet her. Seeing her shiver, he pulled her in front of him and wrapped both sides of his jacket around her. Disa protested and moved to James’ shoulder. “Farrah’s. When this burns off, we’ll anchor at her harbor.”

“She has her own harbor?”

“Business is good.”

“No kidding. Good for her.” Wendy was predisposed to like this woman and sincerely hoped her expectations wouldn’t be disappointed.

The mist began wisping away too soon for Wendy’s warm and happy position, and far too late for her curious mind. When the visibility allowed, the Jolly Roger took its place at Farrah’s dock, and the gangplank was set. The crew took turns casting lots to determine which two had to stay behind. Mücahit and Kalaakaar lost. If possible, Wendy became even more intrigued. Who is this woman?

Not two steps beyond the dock, Wendy got her answer.

“What are you doing here?” a fractious voice demanded. It belonged to a mist-shrouded silhouette.

As the shape drew nearer, Wendy began to make out features. Golden-brown hair and milk-white skin punched her in the gut. She knew it wasn’t her father, but for the tiniest moment, he was walking toward her again. The woman wore too many layers to guess at her build, aside from height. She seemed taller than Wendy and maybe James, but shorter than Cooper by half a head. She also wore a ferocious scowl.

“What did you break this time?”

“Farrah! How lovely to see you again,” James greeted her.

“Don’t sweet-talk me.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Who’s this?” Farrah asked with a chin-jab toward Wendy.

“This is Wendy Darling,” James introduced. “Wendy, this is Farrah Wright.”

Farrah looked unimpressed. “She yours?”

Wendy’s heart sped up as she waited for his answer.

James didn’t leave her in suspense. “Yes.”

“I suppose we’ll feed her, too.” She sighed glumly and dropped her arms. “C’mon. Vass is cooking.”

A cheer rose from the crew, who had remained suspiciously quiet the whole time. Wendy frowned at a couple of them, trying to figure it out, but no one paid her any mind. There was food to be had.

An hour later, Wendy agreed with the men: The food was worth cheering for. The rolls were the fluffiest, the fruit was the freshest, and Vass had prepared a giant pot of hot chocolate when he saw their guests. The day would soon be too warm for such a treat, so Wendy relished it while she could.

She also discovered why the crew was so enamored of Farrah. Not only was the woman a whiz with iron, if the metal elements scattered around her shop and home were anything to go by, but she clearly cared deeply for each member of the Jolly Roger. The whole time before and during breakfast, Farrah took turns catching up with every person. She asked questions about ongoing personal projects and praised growth. All while sounding like her morning had been terribly inconvenienced.

Wendy found herself appreciating the dry observations and grouchy requests for more information.

After somehow getting Wendy to talk about her brothers and discovering that Wendy enjoyed reading, Farrah finally turned her attention on James. “Spit it out. I can tell from your face whatever it is is going to be a lot of work for me.” She took a large sip from her mug, then set it down firmly.

“We have an idea for dealing with Pan.”

A light entered the woman’s blue eyes. Wendy would have called it cautious optimism on someone else.

“Oh yeah? Spill it,” she demand-invited.

James explained what they had in mind and asked if she could do it. Farrah fired off a round of questions. Then she stared into her mug for a solid minute without speaking.

When she finally looked up, she said, “Let’s do it.”