Chapter 53
T he arrival of Peter on the Iaso sparks a flurry of grumbling among the crew. Everyone seems confused by his presence, but Charlie, now well enough to be waltzing around on deck, silences them all.
“It’s a nice boat,” says Peter, glancing around, specifically at the emblem on the side where Iaso’s name is carved. “I bet she liked it, didn’t she?”
There’s no taunting in Peter’s voice, and while I expect Nolan to lash out in anger against the man who cruelly banished Iaso’s spirit from this realm, Nolan just looks weary.
“Yes. She liked it,” he says. “Loved it, even.”
“She always did talk about how she wanted to adventure on the sea,” says Peter.
The brief reminiscence makes me uneasy.
“Maddox will show you to your quarters,” says Nolan.
“I’ll take that as a dismissal.” Yet again, there’s no anger in Peter’s tone.
It’s strange seeing the two of them together.
It will be even stranger, I assume, watching them work together, and not for the Nomad.
Although I suppose their intentions are the same as last time, their common interest being me.
I still can’t believe that’s the only reason Peter is helping us.
I might have suffered under his captivity, but I spent years seeing him interact with the Lost Boys.
I witnessed his grief after I helped them escape Neverland.
It surprises me that he hasn’t gone looking for them. Or perhaps he has, and they rejected him. Told him to leave. That they were happy where they are now.
Again, I shouldn’t feel pity for him. Shouldn’t care. But there’s something about that idea that aches. Either way, I can’t help but believe there’s still a part of him that doesn’t wish for my son to suffer.
Maddox grumpily leads Peter down into the cabin area to his room.
Charlie rushes up to us, craving an update.
“So he agreed, I see.” She’s glancing all over my body, looking for any signs of a bargain.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t make a bargain,” I say.
Her smile is proud, and it causes my heavy heart to lift. She wraps me in a hug, and as she does, my coat tightens around me, something firm slapping the side of my hip.
I pull back, frowning, then slip my hand into my coat pocket. I don’t remember placing anything there, but my fingers wrap around something cold, hard, circular.
I pull it out, and Charlie gasps. “Where did you get that?”
I frown, staring down at the pocket watch in my hand. I’ve only seen one like it, the one made of adamant that the Nomad used to trap Peter’s shadows inside.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I didn’t know it was in there. I didn’t know there were others like this.”
“That’s because there aren’t,” says Charlie. “I only made one. And the last I saw it was when I handed it to the Nomad.”
I frown, thinking of the couple I saw leaving the carnival show tonight.
“But it couldn’t have been them,” I say. “The woman… she didn’t have any wings.”
I blink, confused, then remember the moment someone slammed into me from behind. We had thought it had just been the crowd pressing in, a panicked bystander wanting to get out of the fortress, thinking there was a killer on the loose because of the rumor circulating. But what if, instead…
My thoughts trail off, and I slip my fingers back into my pocket. Inside, the smooth feel of parchment collides with my fingertips. I pull the parchment out, then unfold it, my hand covering my mouth as I read the letter. It says:
Just in case you need this back.
P.S. Tell Michael I love him.
There’s no signature. Tears fill the bottom of my eyelids as my mind races back to the events of the night.
“Is it from…?” asks Charlie.
“It was Tink,” I explain. “She was there tonight.”
I glance at my husband. “Nolan, we could have helped her.”
I watch him replay the events of the night in his mind, just as I am doing.
“I saw her in the crowd,” I say. “And the Nomad too, I think. I didn’t realize it was them. I thought it was them, but then she didn’t have any wings, and I thought I was just seeing things.”
Nolan shakes his head. “If she wanted our help, if she wanted us to know she was there, she could have made herself known.”
I work my lip, thinking of the Nomad. “Unless he didn’t let her…”
Nolan shakes his head. “He let her get away long enough to plant that on you. And besides, the pocket watch was in his possession, not hers, the last time we saw it.”
“You think he wanted us to have this?” I ask, examining the pocket watch in my hand.
“I think she convinced him to let you have it,” says Nolan.
I frown, hating that I missed a chance to speak with my friend. To see if she’s okay. But Nolan’s reasoning is sound.
“You don’t think she had anything to do with the prisoner that broke out, do you?” I ask.
“That, Darling,” says Nolan, “is exactly what I think.”
“You did say that Tink spent years in a carnival,” says Charlie, “didn’t you?”
I nod. “Yes, but I didn’t think that was the carnival she was enslaved to.”
“I’m sure those places make trades of their slaves,” says Nolan. “It’s quite possible that whoever she broke out, she had connections with back in her carnival days.”
I frown, thinking back to something the Nomad said about him needing Tink. I had gotten the impression it was for more than her past connections, but the Nomad is not one to waste resources.
“I just wish I had been able to see her face,” I say, looking down at the pocket watch.
I’m not sure what Tink wants me to use this for. It’s not as if Peter has any shadows left to trap.
There’s a part of me that wonders if the Sister herself—if her shadows—could be trapped within something like this. But I have a hard time believing the Sister’s power could be held in something so small.
I place it back in my pocket and ponder on these things. Then head down to our cabin to greet Michael and tell him I have a message from his friend.