Trapped by Neverland

Chapter Seven

Which Features a Great Many Things Happening Very Quickly

Working with Farrah—or working for Farrah—was an interesting ordeal. She knew exactly what she wanted done, and when and how. If you were in her way, she let you know. If you had an idea, she listened. Dumb ideas, or things her experience told her didn’t work, were shot down bluntly. Helpful suggestions earned a nod of approval. Comments that sparked a better idea in her own mind that had nothing to do with the speaker’s original intent seemed to be ignored, until Vass rewarded the speaker with cake at the next meal.

Wendy saw at once that her contribution to the project would be keeping out of the way. She also kept the youngest ones busy when they weren’t needed to play gopher. Farrah wanted Vass, approved Raghu, and accepted Cooper’s help. The others assisted to varying degrees depending on the tight space and Farrah’s patience levels.

Each night at dinner, the day’s work was shared with the crew. Plans for implementing the new trapdoor were discussed ad nauseum. The first night, Maaka advocated using a net gun like the one Sophus had. When Farrah informed him that she didn’t have one, nor did she have the time to develop a working model, he seemed to let it pass. However, he vanished after breakfast the next morning and returned three days later, having procured two from somewhere. Farrah studied them both and pronounced one worthy of including in her build.

Farrah worked tirelessly, setting aside other commissions to focus on their first real plan to stop Peter. The construction was completed in just a week. For Wendy, the time crawled. Every second her brothers were in Peter’s hands was another opportunity for him to decide they had more value dead.

During the celebration the night Farrah declared it ready, James found Wendy lingering at the edge of the lantern light on deck. She watched Maaka and the others repeatedly test the mechanism for the spring-loaded trapdoor and net gun assembly. They worked perfectly every time.

“Are you worried the trap will fail?” James asked.

She shook her head but kept her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “As long as Peter stands in the right spot and someone pushes the button, we’re golden.”

He wrapped her in his arms. “Then what’s bothering you? Did the men eat all the pudding before you got any?” he joked.

“Ha ha,” she recited. The warmth and strength of his arms began seeping into her. “I’m fretting about my brothers. Uselessly, I know,” she added before he could say the same.

“Knowing your worry can’t help doesn’t turn it off,” he empathized. They stood in silence for a few minutes. “I will do everything in my power to bring them home safely,” James vowed.

“I know.”

*****

Farrah sent the Jolly Roger off the next morning with plenty of bread and fresh water, a round of hugs, and mercilessly stated advice not to “screw things up.” They traveled along the coast, keeping a sharp eye out for the Drunken Kraken. Wendy doubted she could pick out Sophus’ ship from any others of that size, but she recognized Buala that first afternoon. When she asked, Kalaakaar divulged that Farrah’s place wasn’t far north of the port because she valued her privacy but required regular customers.

Collectively, they had agreed that the best way to lure Peter Pan onto the Jolly Roger involved letting him “discover” their secret harbor. Throughout the subsequent planning, one particular trepidation lingered. If they failed, they had burned their only secret. During the first evening’s planning meeting, Wendy wanted to know why the mermaids didn’t report the hidden harbor to Peter.

“Probably because Cap’n James befriended a siren and suggested she live there. Sirens are highly territorial,” Gharza informed her.

“The way you say that makes me think ‘siren’ and ‘mermaid’ are not two names for the same faery.”

“Correct,” James took over. “Both get rather offended when you use them interchangeably.”

“Can we ask the siren to leave for a little bit?” Wendy thought aloud. “Then the mermaids could alert Peter.”

James clunked his hook on the edge of the table and shook his head. “The mermaids won’t investigate the former home of a siren until they are positive she’s been gone or dead for a long time.”

“We could take a different route through the rocks,” Kalaakaar volunteered. “Our normal path avoids the mermaids, but we don’t have to take it.”

“Good point,” James agreed. He gestured to the map. “Where were you thinking?”

After some discussion, a path was decided. Their new route moved the ship in a way that could be interpreted as exploratory. It would be best if Peter thought they were scouting the area for the first time.

Which brought up another question. “How is Peter not aware of the cave? Or is he?” Wendy pressed.

Everyone looked around the table, hoping someone else had an answer.

Finally, Raghu said, “Maybe it has something to do with the stream that waterfalls to the side of it.”

“I didn’t see a waterfall,” she objected.

“Weren’t you hiding?” Maaka interpreted Smee’s hand motions.

She dipped her head for a second. “Oh, yeah. But why would that stop him from exploring?”

“If we’re right about the iron in the groundwater, and since we already know he avoids water that didn’t fall from the sky,” Raghu led, “there could be enough iron in the stream to make him uncomfortable.”

“We stayed away from that part of the island when I was a Lost Boy,” Kalaakaar mentioned. “Peter blamed venomous snakes.”

“I heard that, too,” Mücahit added.

A few others said the same. It was concluded that they couldn’t pin down why the boy-faced fiend didn’t visit that spot, but there was nothing to be gained from second-guessing that part of the plan at this point in the proceedings.

Then their talks switched to rehashing what they already thought would work. Wendy’s sheeries would be sent in to tell Iniq, Shaye, and Horas that “Wenny” had returned with Captain Hook. If all went according to plan, Disa would “accidentally” share that information in front of Peter. If Peter wasn’t readily available, they would repeat the conversation to John and Michael. The crew believed that his growing paranoia would mean he kept the Lost Boys close.

They planned to spring their trap in the waters right outside the secret cave. There were too many manmade modifications that might alert Peter otherwise. Some of the men were set to take the yawl into the cavern, hopefully as Peter watched, in order to show him that the ship was mostly unattended and therefore a safe place to engage Hook in battle. That part got trickier. No one was sure why Peter had suddenly decided to remove Hook from the picture. Would he jump at the chance to finish the job himself? Or would he send in others? Was Sophus still on the island? Wendy sincerely hoped not, as their plan starting falling apart if the Drunken Kraken was in anchor.

Keeping the Lost Boys out of it was also complicated. On the one hand, they couldn’t fly and were very unlikely to launch themselves from the cliff to land on the ship. On the other, Peter might not act if he couldn’t use them as a human shield. The boys might also use their slingshots and arrows to attack the Jolly Roger’s crew. Tam volunteered to show himself to the Lost Boys and hopefully shake their core belief about Peter. Wendy didn’t want Tam to put himself in that kind of danger but had to agree he had the most potential to succeed with the boys. All of the others, including Phillip, had been Lost Boys far too long ago for the current batch to recognize them.

Wendy left that meeting feeling a bizarre mixture of hope, confusion, worry, and anger. Peter Pan had a lot to answer for.

Days Two and Three passed without much to distinguish them from any other day at sea. Day Four should have seen them within sight of Neverland by noon, but the prevailing winds turned against them and it took the whole day instead. At long last, they reached the anchor point they planned to launch from the next day.

Most of the crew stood on the deck and looked into the dark night toward Neverland. Clouds blotted the stars and moon, but there was nothing to see anyway. Nerves and determination took turns being the dominant emotion. This was evident in the way the men laughed excessively at stupid jokes, then patted each other on the back with assurances that tomorrow would be a day to remember.

Mirai emerged from some dark corner of the ship and leapt to the barrel by Wendy. Her patchy colored coat looked more orange in the light of the lantern on the hook.

Raghu cleared his throat. “Do we attack tomorrow, or wait one more day?”

“We’re ready; let’s go tomorrow,” either Gharza or Maaka said; Wendy couldn’t tell from the half-mutter that came from beyond her circle of light.

Mirai stretched for the lantern above her, standing on her back legs to reach it.

“She’s reaching for the light; that means tomorrow is good,” Kalaakaar declared.

“Let’s confirm,” Mücahit said. “Mirai, should we go to Neverland tomorrow?”

The cat licked the bottom edge of the lantern.

“Or do we wait and attack the day after?” Raghu challenged.

Mirai sat on her haunches and cleaned the claws of her front paw.

“That settles it. We go tomorrow,” James announced decisively. “Let’s call it a night.”

Wendy, who could smell the fish oil in the lantern from here, thought they were ascribing more credit than the cat deserved. No matter how long-lived or how unusual the feline looked in certain lights, she was still, after all, a cat. Right?

*****

Dawn came and left before the Jolly Roger raised anchor the following day. Peter had never been known as an early riser, and they needed him to be aware of their presence this time. Their chosen passage through the rocks that ringed most of Neverland took a good bit of time, as well. It was solidly late morning when they stopped outside the cavern. Everyone pretended not to see the mermaid heads that popped up to spy on them. Confined to the water, the fish ladies weren’t a guarantee that Peter would learn of them right away.

But they had sheeries for that. The pair that had followed Wendy rested on a crate in a nest they had made from someone’s cap. Both had been awake and raring to go at dawn, but as the hours stretched out, so did they. Itty-bitty snores were audible when she ducked her head to poke them awake.

“Disa.” Wendy ensured she had his complete attention. “Where are Iniq and Shaye? Or Horas, if it comes to that.”

The tiny faerie shook off his lethargy and concentrated. “Iniq is with Michael and Peter.”

“What about Shaye and Horas?”

Wendy expected him to focus again, but he shrugged. “Gone.”

“Gone?” She tried to keep the panic out of her voice, “What do you mean, gone?”

“Not here.” Disa’s expression questioned her intelligence.

She opened her mouth to question him further, but James put his hand on her shoulder. “We can investigate later. Time is of the essence.”

“Right.” Wendy threw him her attempt at a smile, then applied herself to the sheerie again. “Disa, where did you see Peter and Michael?”

The sheerie flew in lazy loops and figure-eights. “Underground hideout.”

Wendy turned to James. “You know the island better than I do, but I think it will take at least thirty minutes for them to get here. Disa can fly there in less than half that.”

He nodded. “This is the perfect time to send Disa, then. Iniq is with Peter. Disa,” he addressed the sheerie directly. The faery came to attention. “Will you do your part to the best of your ability? Tell Iniq that Wendy is here, then lead them to the top of this cave?” James gestured with his hook to the opening before them.

“I will!” Disa promised. Then he bobbed once and became invisible.

“You’re up, Leq.” Wendy nudged her sleeping sheerie with one finger.

Leq sat up and blearily surveyed his surroundings. He flew a wobbly circle, looking for all the world like a miniature drunk. James must have worried if that was, indeed, the case, because he asked her what was wrong with the faery.

“Nothing,” Wendy assured. “This is a normal morning for him.” She put her hand over her mouth and whispered loudly, “I think he does it for the attention.”

Leq covered his frown by rubbing his eyes. He woke up a bit faster after that, though.

When about fifteen minutes had passed, Wendy asked Leq to report on Disa’s whereabouts.

“Talking to Iniq,” he said, then buried his face in an excessively ripe mango that had originally come from Farrah.

James held her hand as they waited. The rest of the crew was getting antsy, as well. There was only so much they could do to prepare the yawl, and standing around aimlessly could give away their subterfuge if Peter sent spies ahead.

So many tiny pieces had to come together perfectly for their plan to work. The sheeries had to play their part well. Peter had to believe and follow them. Then he had to feel safe enough to board their boat. The Lost Boys needed to be convinced not to aid Peter. They were banking on Peter’s pride to separate him from the Lost Boys. He wouldn’t bring them in if he felt safe taking out Hook on his own.

Wendy pulled the iron amulet around her neck out from under her collar. She rubbed her fingers along its pitted surface. It was more scrap than amulet, really. Farrah had told them to search through her bits box for protection. Every member of the Jolly Roger’s crew had iron somewhere on their person. James instructed them to hide the iron and keep it against their skin. Wendy had gone one step further and filled her pockets with iron filings.

She resisted the temptation to have Leq update them every minute. James gave in first.

“Leq, please tell us where Iniq and Disa are.”

Having finished more mango than should have fit within his petite frame, Leq wiped his hands down his front and closed his eyes. “With Peter near the top of the hill.” He pointed helpfully.

James silently directed the men to get in place. “Are the Lost Boys with him?”

“Yup.”

The crew scurried to get into position. Now that they were meant to be seen, they could take their time lowering the boat and rowing it toward the cave. Nobody was supposed to look at the top of the hill, where they expected Peter. They made a show of scanning the water and rocks for threats, but ignored the top. Wendy saw Peter’s light-brown hair duck beneath the tall grasses growing there, a good distance from the thin waterfall that trickled down the side.

“I see him,” she breathed to James, who nodded almost imperceptibly.

The pair had positioned themselves near the railing opposite the trapdoor. The cargo had been redistributed to leave most of the deck open and, they hoped, make it appear nonthreatening. Tam lay hidden under a tarp draped across an empty crate. Wendy sent a quick prayer to Cosmas or Fortuna to keep him safe.

Smee, Kalaakaar, and Maaka waited in the brig. Wendy’s things had been cleared out in the pre-dawn hours this morning. They stood armed, ready to ensure the trap worked smoothly, or to provide backup if it failed. Davi and Phillip were in the yawl with Mücahit, Raghu, Cooper, and Gharza. Davi was hidden under another tarp to prevent Peter from seeing him as easy pickings.

From their place at the railing, Wendy and James watched the yawl creep toward the dark opening. When the boat passed through, Peter made his entrance. He stood from the grass and instructed his Lost Boys to throw rocks at the boat if it tried to emerge.

Seven little faces poked through the grass. One boy shifted, perhaps wiggling to lie in a more comfortable position, and a rock fell to the water. Small enough for the boys to carry, it would still ruin someone’s day if it hit their noggin.

“See! There’s more where that came from,” Peter crowed. Then he literally crowed, and the Lost Boys cheered.

Wendy had forgotten how annoying that sound was. She stepped to the side to get the mast out of her view of the clifftop. She scanned the faces for her brothers. James moved closer when she gasped.

“I see them,” she whispered. Needing comfort, she reached back for James.

This enraged the Boy Who Would Never Grow Up. His feet left the ground as he gave a wordless yell. He slammed his hands on his hips and hollered, “You’re with him?!”

Hearing the vitriol in a young boy’s voice made the whole thing a sick farce. A smile from Peter was a lovely, mischief-tainted sight to behold; one knew it was time for a wholesome adventure. There was no memory of that smile now. The absolute fury coating his features turned Wendy’s stomach.

“How could you, Wendy Mother?! You’re supposed to love me! Only me!” Peter stomped his foot in the air.

Wendy flicked a glance toward James. They hadn’t predicted this reaction.

Then Peter dove for the Lost Boy closest to him and flew into the air. He swooped toward the Jolly Roger, clasping a screaming boy to his side. They landed on the deck with a jolt.

Wendy’s stomach turned to lead, and her temperature plummeted. She could no longer feel the fabric of James’ jacket beneath her fingers. Peter had Michael. That was not in the plan at all. His feet were in the perfect position to employ the trapdoor, but they couldn’t risk sending Michael into the brig with him.

“Let him go, Pan.” James commanded. He broke away from Wendy and set his hand on his sword. “You don’t want him; you want me.”

Wendy stayed back, desperate to run to her brother but knowing that James couldn’t fight effectively if he was worried about hurting her.

“You?” Peter looked thoroughly confused. “I don’t care about you. You’re supposed to be dead.”

Again, Peter wasn’t conforming to their expectations. A shout from the water tore Wendy’s gaze away from Michael for a second. The crew of the yawl had tried to leave the cave, and the Lost Boys had acted on Peter’s orders.

James stalked a step forward. Peter reacted by pulling out a knife and holding it to Michael’s throat. James froze. Wendy watched as a single tear escaped Michael’s closed eyes and left a trail on his grubby face.

“I guess I’ll kill you myself,” Peter said, calming down. He looked at Wendy with wide eyes. “Are you coming home, Wendy?”

The poignant longing in his voice tugged at her heartstrings. She knew it wasn’t real, but it crept into her brain and whispered for action. She put her hands in her pockets to keep from reaching out for him.

James shifted his weight, pulling Peter’s attention. “You stay out of this!” the boy-shaped monster yelled, pointing his knife at James.

As soon as the knife was away from her brother, Wendy threw a handful of the iron filings in Peter’s face.

He reacted by shoving Michael to grab at his eyes with the hand that didn’t hold the knife. James stepped forward again, and Peter brandished his weapon. His eyes were a fiery red, but while the iron was hurting him, it hadn’t been enough to stop him.

“I’m going to kill you”—he gestured to James, then Wendy and Michael—“then you and you!”

Wendy had rushed forward to pull Michael out of range while Peter was blinded. The boy began crying in earnest when he realized his sister now cradled him. “You’re safe, little one. I’ve got you.” She reached for the small box of nails that had been stashed nearby. “Here. Hold this iron. Peter has less power over you when you’re touching iron.”

He clutched the nail obediently. Wendy had forgotten to tuck her pendant back into her dress. She had also forgotten that her pockets were filled with iron until she put her hands in them. She slipped the amulet beneath her collar again as she watched the scene before her.

Peter had moved out of position in the aftermath of the iron shower. James needed to move him back into place.

A flutter of movement caught Wendy’s eye. She looked over, then immediately away when she realized Tam was peeking under the tarp. He was closest to the trapdoor’s trigger. No doubt he was watching to get the timing right.

Peter and James circled each other. Or rather, Peter tried to circle behind James, who kept switching direction to keep him on the correct side of the deck. After much blustering on Peter’s part, and a good bit of useless weapon-waving on both their parts, the bane of their existence stepped in front of the space he needed to occupy.

“Good enough,” James said, leveling his hook at Peter in what looked like a dramatic pointing gesture. Until the base of the hook fell open and, to Wendy’s and Peter’s shock alike, launched a spike into the boy’s chest.

It must have been iron, because Peter gasped and clutched his chest with an anguished wail. When he stumbled back a couple steps, Tam burst from his hiding spot and triggered the mechanism by his crate. The trapdoor responded instantly, swinging open and releasing the net gun in one smooth motion. Peter went down hard beneath the net, still wailing and tearing at his injury.

As James kicked the bound Peter into the hole in the floor, Wendy heard shouts from the men below. James and Tam raced to slam the door shut, then stepped on it to keep it in place.

The captain patted Tam on the back, and they grinned at each other. Then he turned toward Wendy and asked, “Are you two—Look out!”

Wendy twisted around to see Peter’s shadow creeping toward her. Without pausing to think, she grabbed another handful of iron filings and threw them at the dark smudge.

Shadows living apart from their owners react much more dramatically than Peter did, she learned. It didn't have a voice with which to wail, but the edges of the shadow seemed to curl up with all the nastiness of a freshly salted slug as it shriveled and writhed frantically. Wendy set Michael to the side, grabbed the shadow with both hands, and began furiously wadding it up. She didn’t know if she should be able to do this, but she wasn’t going to let a silly little thing like doubt keep her from disposing of this evil. When the physical gloom was small enough, she pushed it into the nail box at her side. Then she gave the box a hearty shake, just in case.

A weak laugh from James let her know it was over. She walked to his side. “Do you have more nails? I want to seal this shut.”

James answered by kissing her soundly. Wendy nearly dropped the box, but Michael’s voice brought her to her senses.

“Ew. Why are you doing that?”

James laughed for real this time. He was opening his mouth to answer when a crudely made arrow fell to the deck at his feet.

“Leave ’em alone, Ayrat!”

Wendy recognized John’s voice and looked up to the hilltop to see him scuffling with a dark-skinned boy. The other Lost Boys watched and waited. When the fighting pair paused to nurse their injuries, she called out to them. “John, Ayrat, Cass, Edi, Stathis, Behzad!”

Six faces turned her way. “Wendy!” they shouted. The resulting cacophony of cheers and questions scraped at her worn nerves.

“Is there a way for them to come down?” she asked James. “Safely.”

The boys kept yelling, thwarting her attempts to direct them to the side of the hill James indicated. John yelled right along with them, determined to make them see his point through sheer volume.

Wendy shook her head. “This isn’t working.” She looked around the deck. “Leq?”

Her sticky sheerie popped into visibility in front of her face. “Yeah?”

“Would you please direct those boys to these rocks?” She pointed to a convenient staging area that the yawl could reach.

“On it!” Leq flashed into his blueish-white flame form and darted to the top of the hill.

“Could you tell the men to return with the yawl?” James requested. “I’d like to cover this door with the heaviest cargo we can manage, but I need help.”

“On it!” Wendy parroted Leq with a wink.

She led Michael to the edge of the ship, refusing to let him go until her brain and body both agreed he was safe. The yawl was already heading for the ship. They had likely heard their chance when the boys started arguing.

It took Tam’s presence, Wendy’s explanations, and all three sheeries to calm the Lost Boys. Lunchtime had come and gone before any of them agreed to follow John aboard the boat. Gharza’s idea to bring the hot food out of the galley may have been what finally convinced them.

The Darling brothers took Wendy at her word, but Tam had to explain his story twice and pass out iron pieces before the rest of the Lost Boys began to accept that the despicable Captain Hook had once been one of them. And was a good guy, to boot.

Wendy was completely drained by the time they got everyone situated that evening. James wanted to head straight for Malu and the naval police, but they knew the kitsune needed to be dealt with first. The Jolly Roger anchored off the beach the kitsune usually haunted, with plans to free the faery in the morning.

Wendy returned from tucking her brothers (and the other five Lost Boys) into the makeshift beds that now occupied the captain’s quarters. They had moved Wendy’s things in that morning so James could trade places with her. She found him talking quietly with Mücahit near the enormous stack of cargo that covered the trapdoor.

He nodded to the bosun and walked her way. “I’m about to take my shift in the brig. Walk me there?”

She accepted his hand. “Wanna tell me about the fact that your hook shoots iron spikes?”

James coughed sheepishly. “I thought you saw me use it on the crocodile. Then I forgot.” He held up his wrist and did something that triggered the hook release. “It won’t shoot unless I flex this muscle”—he dropped her hand to point to his arm—“and the hook is out of the way.”

“How do you move the hook out of the way?”

“I bump my elbow against my side,” he said, reattaching the hook.

“Very nice,” Wendy said around a yawn. She grabbed his hand again and started for the brig. “Let’s get you to guard duty.”

As they neared the modified jail cell, they could hear Peter shouting that they would be sorry when Sophus returned.

Wendy tugged James down for a quick kiss. “Have fun!”

“Thanks,” he drawled. Then he went to relieve Smee and Maaka.

*****

The kitsune problem was solved with a judicious application of Wendy’s iron filings. It wouldn’t let them approach until Tam calmly explained everything that had happened with Peter Pan the day before. Wendy wasn’t sure how much the creature understood, but it deigned to be anointed with metal dust after the story.

They left the rest of Neverland alone at present. The authorities would have final say, and they needed to transfer Peter as soon as possible. Traveling to Malu with seven extra boys became an unending exercise in patience for Wendy. While she loved each one dearly, she had a hard time redirecting their boundless energy on a ship with distinctly limited boundaries.

The naval police listened to their stories for three days before sending for someone from the capital. The royal representative from Auki took his own time hearing their testimonies and flipping through Smee’s record. Finally, a week and a half later, Peter was transferred out of the Jolly Roger and into a reinforced wagon guarded by men wearing iron.

It was a relief to pass on the burden, but Wendy also felt uneasy trusting someone else to do it well.

James found her on the deck the day after Peter had been moved and the Lost Boys taken into royal custody. He brushed the line between her brows. “Are you concerned about the boys? Maaka volunteered to stay with them until he was sure the Crown was taking good care of them.”

“I know.” She relaxed her face. “That’s not bothering me. I’m—” She paused.

“Do you need a cookie?”

“No!” She glared at him with a laugh. “Yes, actually, I would like a cookie.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “It’s like I know you.”

Her “yeah” was fond.

“Which is why I know there’s more.”

“I’m selfishly wondering what happens next.”

“That’s not selfish.” James turned her to face him. “I have plans for you, Wendy. Plans that don’t involve losing you now.” His liquid black eyes held promises, so many promises. “I have an idea about your brothers, as well.” His lips edged into a smirk. “But we’ll have to talk to that stepfather of yours first.”

She grumbled under her breath, then took in a lungful of the briny air that guaranteed adventure. “Let’s do it, then.”

So they set a course for the Darling estate.