Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
WENDY
T here’s a guard outside the door to the bunker.
To be honest, I don’t even remember wandering here. It’s ridiculous, given I have Peter’s stash of faerie dust tucked into my waistband. I don’t need what’s in the bunker. But I’ve been roaming around the deck, my fingers fidgeting at the cord tying the pouch. Just a daily dose, I’ve been telling myself. I can handle that.
In truth, I wandered down here to escape the scolding voice in my head telling me I should throw the faerie dust overboard. Or perhaps I just wanted a reminder that if I do throw it into the sea, more will still be down here in the bunker waiting for me. That I won’t have to abandon it forever.
The bald, burly man waiting for me at the doorway flashes me a metallic grin and says, “Cap’s up the stairs and on the right if you’re looking for his attentions.”
My face colors, and I shake my head violently. “No, I’m not looking for him. I was just with him…”
The burly man only grins wider, and I exhale forcefully, scampering up the stairs and to the right as he told me.
On the way, I take note of the strange nature of the ship. When I first glimpsed the Iaso , I thought it was made entirely of shadow, but now that I’m inside it, I realize it’s only cloaked in shadows. At least, it was when we left Neverland. Now that I think about it, I hadn’t noticed the shadows when Peter backed me up against the hull. Astor must have some way of keeping them contained. I peer at my feet. The floorboards and walls are made of wood, probably oak, if I had to guess.
That morsel of knowledge reminds me with a pang of John. He went through a ship phase as a child, which I suppose is only natural for those who grow up in a port town. He used to tell me all about them, begging me to sketch diagrams with him and help him gather materials for his miniature boat models.
Oak is hesitant to rot, I remember. My chest stings as I think of John, of the worry that must be nagging at his protective soul right now. John’s always considered it his responsibility to protect me.
And now I’m gone.
I’m not sure what the captain wants from me, but I have the sneaking suspicion that by the time he returns me to Neverland, I won’t be the same girl I was when I left.
Will Peter still want me then?
I shake my head, dispelling the thought. Of course he will. I’d let my despair at being given over to Astor undermine my trust in Peter. But he’s been watching over me, hasn’t he? When I needed him, when I was falling, it was Peter’s arms that caught me. Irritation with myself prickles at my ribcage—I should have asked him what his plan was in handing me over to Astor instead of letting my passion for my Mate overtake my senses as he kissed me up against the hull of the ship.
Warmth spreads its fingers between the divot of my shoulder blades at the memory.
Still, Peter’s proven that whatever his intentions are, it was never to leave me to the captain’s devices. For now, that’s enough for me to trust that he knows what he’s doing.
I let my fingers trail the treated wood as I wander the hallway, following the faint echo of voices. When I reach the door at the end of the hall, I find there’s a natural knot in the wood that’s left a crack larger than most of the slats. When I press my face to it, I get a decent glimpse inside, if not a bit shadowed at the peripherals.
Inside looks to be some sort of council chamber. At least, that’s the impression I get from the massive round table at the center of the room. Parchment dangles over the edges, likely a map of the world based on the islands I glimpse scattered at its corners. Several of the crew stand around the table, Captain Astor in the center.
He’s scowling, his black sleeves cuffed just below his elbows, his fists atop the map in the center of the table.
“What do you mean Cortland Rivers is married?”
“Worse than that,” says Evans, the slight young man who danced with me at my masquerade ball. He’s wincing, his dark brown skin wrinkled at his forehead. “He’s a newlywed.”
Captain Astor squeezes his eyes shut and digs into his temples with his Mated hand.
“I don’t see what the problem is,” says another—a fae man with golden hair and skin just a shade darker. He looks like the type of being an artist might choose as a muse if they were going to carve a likeness into the side of a mountain. Some people are just the sort of attractive that you know is going to withstand changes in fashion. “Can’t you just tell the Carlisles that you left your wife at home? That she’s afraid of the sea? Or that she fell ill? Or better, that she’s expecting?”
Charlie pipes up from across the table. “We could, Maddox, except that Cortland Rivers is Delphian.”
Maddox folds his tree trunks for arms across his chest. “And?”
“The Delphi have a custom that newlyweds aren’t to leave each other’s sides for the first year of marriage.”
A spindly red-headed man who looks as though he might have given away his serving of fruit one too many times, judging by his rotten teeth, whistles in disbelief. “Hate to be Delphian, then. The men have to give up the brothels for an entire year.”
Charlie rolls her eyes. “Yes, Teeth, what a tragedy that a man might be expected to remain faithful to his wife. For an entire year, no less.”
Teeth nods in agreement, Charlie’s sarcasm falling on rather dull ears. Though even I have to admit, Charlie’s voice is so cheerful, it’s difficult for me to tell she’s being sarcastic sometimes.
“Sorry to break it to you, Captain,” says Evans, “but we’re going to have to find another lead.”
“Or,” says Charlie, swinging herself onto the table—and the map—until a sharp glance from the captain has her swiftly hopping back onto the floor, “you could give up this quest altogether.”
A hush falls over the crew as Captain Astor rakes Charlie with his scowl. “I don’t anticipate hearing you mention that again,” is all he says, to which Charlie purses her lips, planting a hand on her hip.
Evans glances back and forth between them, the lantern light giving his deep brown skin a warm glow. “Charlotte has a point, Captain. I’d be amiss not to point out that there’s little in this for the crew.”
The captain sneers. “There is for anyone who wishes to remain on my crew.” He gestures toward the door. “You all know you’re free to leave anytime we port.”
Evans glances around at the others, like he’s trying to muster up support. I remember Evans seeming young when I first met him. Shy. I’d felt compelled to pay him attention because of how awkward and timid he was.
That was before he helped the pirates slit my guests’ throats.
When it’s clear that no one in the room wishes to take their chances on another crew, Evans stands down. He sighs and rolls up the map they had laid across the table. Then he glances at Charlie. “You’ll have to play the part of the captain’s wife then.”
Charlie snorts. The captain grunts. Maddox says, “That, I’d pay a thousand silvers to witness.”
When the captain gives Maddox a withering stare, the handsome man just smiles. “What? You might as well pour cement on a wet rag for all the spark you and Charlie have between you.”
Charlie nods emphatically.
Astor rolls his eyes. “We’ll play it off as an arranged marriage.”
Evans shakes his head. “It’s well known that Cortland Rivers would settle for nothing less than a love match.”
The entire crew, all but Charlie, groan.
“I could go with Charlie,” says Maddox, offering her a wink. Charlie actually flushes, her cheeks a sheet of parchment attempting to conceal a flame in a dim room.
Evans shakes his head. “The coloring of those golden locks of yours is too fair, Maddox. They’d know you weren’t Delphian.”
Charlie wilts, and Maddox narrows his golden brow. “Except my hair is only this color because I spend my days in the sun.”
“Yes, but perception is more important than reality when it comes to the aristocracy, isn’t it?” says Evans.
“We’ll just have to make do,” says the captain. Though his hands are still supporting his weight on the table, the space between his shoulder blades has sunken in. It seems his plan is slipping through his fingertips. Maddox glances back and forth between Charlie and the captain, looking as if he’s about to say something, but in the end, he keeps his mouth shut.
I hide in a hall closet while the crew file out of the room. Captain Astor and Maddox are the last to leave. Judging by the whispered tones of Maddox’s voice, I’m guessing that wasn’t accidental. Footsteps come to a halt right outside the closet door, and I calm my breathing so their fae hearing won’t sense me.
“Is this really worth it?” asks Maddox, his previously carefree voice twined with concern.
“I don’t embark on quests that aren’t worth my time. You know that better than anyone.”
“Nolan…” My ears perk at Maddox’s use of the captain’s given name. I expect the captain to scold him for impropriety, but he doesn’t. “Iaso is gone.”
“I’m aware.”
Maddox sighs. Someone’s tapping their foot on the floor planks. “You at least have to acknowledge how this looks to the crew. Dragging us all over the world just to get rid of a Mating Mark.”
My heart skips two beats as I fumble with Maddox’s words in my head. I press my ear against the door, fearing I’ll miss out on any tidbit of information I could potentially use.
“There are plenty who understand why one might want to rid themselves of a Mating Mark,” says the captain. Something about the words sounds rehearsed.
Maddox’s response is infused with a wariness he’s not bothering to conceal. “One that’s decayed?”
“I can’t bear to look at it anymore.” Again, the floorboards creak underneath the captain’s shifting weight.
Maddox goes quiet for a moment. “I’m not sure this is going to help you get over her.”
“It’s not your choice to make, is it?” says the captain coldly.
Footsteps sound against the floorboards as someone—I’m assuming the captain—makes to leave. I have to clutch my heart to convince it not to ache for him, though I’m unsuccessful. As much as I hate the captain, I can’t imagine the pain that would rip through me if I lost Peter. I’d felt a portion of it when the ship had left Neverland, and even that had been unbearable.
The idea of Peter dying…
I believe I’d want to rid myself of my Mark, too.
“It’s not going to work,” says Maddox, calling after his captain. “Not if you need to convince the Carlisles that you’re in love with Charlie.”
The captain’s voice is distant, like he’s already made it down the hall. “I’ll make it work.”
“You’re such a stubborn fool.”
The captain laughs, but there’s a brotherly sort of affection in it.
“What if they don’t have the information you need?” Maddox asks.
“The Carlisles make it their business to know everything. I assure you, if there’s someone out there with the ability to remove a Mating Mark, they’ll know.”
I bite my lip, my mind whirring. I’ve heard of the Carlisles before, though I know little about them. John and I used to hide underneath the wheeled serving carts and spy on my parents’ dinner parties. People spoke of the Carlisles the way they spoke about serial murders, feigned horror disguising the elation of twisted intrigue. From what I gathered, if you had a question, the Carlisles could answer it.
For a hefty price.
If the captain has enough faith in the Carlisles’ hoard of knowledge to believe it’s worth impersonating this Cortland Rivers to learn how to rid himself of his wife’s dead Mating Mark, then maybe the Carlisles could tell me how to rid Peter of his curse, the magic that makes it so that he can’t feel pain.
My feet move independently of my will, and I shove myself out of the closet, mouth blurting, “I’ll do it.”
The captain whirls around to face me, aggravated surprise limning his sharp features. Maddox, on the other hand, looks to be teetering on the edge of laughter.
“Why, you must be Wendy Darling,” he says, taking my hand and pressing a kiss to my knuckles with a wink. “I’m Darian Maddox, First Mate.”
My stomach flips over. He really is quite handsome, his eyes a steely gray, exuding warmth despite their cool tone. I can see why Charlie was disappointed when the opportunity to play the part of his wife was snatched out from under her.
“You’ll do what?” drawls the captain, glancing back and forth between me and Maddox. Maddox smirks and drops my hand.
I do my best to assume a more confident posture to make up for the trembling in my voice. “Be your wife.”
“That’s a tad presumptuous of you, don’t you think?” says the captain, and rather blandly.
Maddox snickers, but I’m undeterred.
“You need someone to play your wife, don’t you? And you know no one is going to believe that you and Charlie are involved. So why not take me?”
The captain tucks his fingers underneath his chin, like he’s thinking. “Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps because I abhor your very existence?”
I don’t expect the pain that goes barreling through my stomach, but I’m too motivated by the hopes of saving Peter to let my trampled feelings get in my way. “Hate? Love? All the Carlisles need to sense between us is passion. Doesn’t matter which type,” I say, fighting not to bite my lip in embarrassment.
“Oh, I’m liking this plan,” says Maddox, mischievous dimples appearing at his cheeks.
I expect the captain to argue, but he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “And what do you presume is in it for you?”
I bite my lip. I’d rather not tell the captain about my desire to cure Peter’s inability to feel pain. It feels like handing him fodder to mock me.
When I don’t come up with an answer quickly, Astor stares at me. “Spit it out, Darling.”
Maddox shoots him a disapproving look, but I wet my lips and let my mouth run away with me, hoping it’ll come up with something good while I’m talking. “Well,” I say, stalling. “You didn’t travel all the way to Neverland for nothing, did you? There’s something you need me for, and I assume it has to do with getting rid of that Mark of yours.” I try to read the captain’s face for any sign that I’m on the right track, but his hardened face betrays nothing. “You wouldn’t have gone to all that trouble to kidnap me, just to pivot to a completely different goal.” My mind races, and it lands on my and the captain’s conversation earlier. “You kept asking me about my nightmares. You’ve been suspicious that I’m a shadow soother,” I say, remembering Peter’s speculations that I might have fae blood in my ancestry. “That’s it, isn’t it? You need a shadow soother to help you get rid of that Mark.”
The captain’s expression shutters, but Maddox’s doesn’t. The First Mate runs his hands through his hair.
I can’t help the satisfied smirk that taints my lips.
“There we are,” the captain finally says, realizing his First Mate’s inability to suppress his reaction. “Wendy Darling, finally showing some cleverness.”
The cruel words threaten to sting, but I’ve come to realize it’s the captain’s sole strategy for distracting me from whatever’s at hand. His only card trick when his opponent has the upper hand.
I think I might enjoy having the upper hand.
“So the sooner we get that Mark off your hand, the sooner you’ll take me back to Neverland,” I say. “You kept trying to bargain for more time, in case the search took you ages. But as it is, we only have six months. One would think you’d want to make the best use of your time.”
The captain snorts. “And you think you’re the best use of my time? That’s assuming you’re even trainable.”
“I think I can help convince the Carlisles that you’re Cortland Rivers,” I volley back.
Maddox shrugs. “She is an aristocrat’s daughter. She’ll know how to play the part of a nobleman’s wife.”
I huff. “Believe me, if there’s anything I’ve been trained for, it’s just that. And I’d be willing to be trained further.”
Maddox opens his hands, palms facing the ceiling. He’s angled himself toward the captain now, so that his body is aligned with mine. It almost feels like having an ally.
“What do you say, Captain?” says Maddox. “It could work.”
Captain Astor looks over the two of us for a moment, shooting daggers at Maddox with his green eyes.
Then he strolls away.
I let out an exasperated huff. “Well, what does that mean?”
Maddox nudges me in the shoulder. “I’ll let you in on a little secret about the captain.”
I arch my brow, and Maddox offers me a full set of perfect teeth, as well as a set of dimples for good measure. “Render the captain speechless, and you’ve as good as wrestled a yes out of him.”
“And how often do you manage to do that?” I ask.
Maddox peers down at me, notching his chin between his fingers and scratching his sun-touched beard as he contemplates. “Considering the brief time you’ve been here, I’m afraid your average is more impressive than mine. And that’s saying something.”
“Because you and Captain Astor are friends?” I pose the question as innocent, knotting my fingers behind my back in a posture my mother used to encourage because she thought looking girlish would make me more endearing to suitors. I’m not looking to attract Maddox, but it’s in my best interest if he feels at ease talking to me. Maybe I can coax out some information about why the captain hated my parents so much.
“What makes you say that?” asks Maddox.
“You called him by his given name earlier. From what I’ve observed about the captain, that seems like the type of thing that would end with any other subservient hanging from the mast.”
Maddox clicks his tongue, though playfully. “If that’s what you believe, then you’re not as observant as you’d like to think.”
Okay, so maybe I’m not going to get much out of the First Mate. Which makes sense, now that I think about it. Maddox might look like the kind of man who’s never had to develop his brain to get what he wants, but I don’t see Astor trusting a man who is dull or easily influenced.
“The two of you don’t seem like the type to become fast friends,” I say.
Maddox appears amused. “Why not?”
“Your dispositions seem…” I try and fail to come up with the word I’m looking for. In the end, I settle on, “incompatible.”
“Why?” Maddox says. “Because he’s the murderous sort and I’m all innocence?”
There’s nothing sinister in his voice, only a reticent sorrow, but it raises gooseflesh on my arms all the same. “Were you there?” I ask. “The night my parents were murdered?”
“I don’t prefer the connotation of murdered, but to answer your question, yes, I was there.”
Dozens of bodies crash to the floor in my mind’s eye.
“I’m not sure I like the way you’re looking at me,” says Maddox, his jaw firm even if his voice is soft.
“The guests at my masquerade were innocent.” And I condemned them to death by penning their invitations myself, I don’t add.
“No one’s innocent, Miss Darling.” There’s a pang of regret in Maddox’s voice. “Not after a certain point, at least.” For some reason, Simon’s face comes to mind.
Anger bubbles up in my throat. “And that gave you the right to slaughter them? Just because you assume that at some point in their life, they did something wrong? I bet you don’t even know the names of the people you killed.”
Maddox’s hands wriggle in his front pockets. “I only killed one that night. And, as a matter of fact, I do remember his name. Lord Credence, I believe.”
I hold in my gasp, recalling the revolting man who tried to coerce me into marrying him the night of my masquerade, incorrectly assuming my desperation was due to my being with child.
“Nolan asked me to pay careful attention to make sure he didn’t leave,” says Maddox, a slight smirk at the edges of his lips. “As for why, you probably know more than I do.”
When I don’t answer, Maddox says, “Everyone needs a prickly friend, Miss Darling. If I were you, I’d use this opportunity to vie for Nolan’s loyalty.”
“How long have you known him?” I ask, wishing to deflect away from any talk of my relationship with the captain.
Maddox tucks his hands into his pockets. The way it causes his shoulders to slump gives him a boyish air. “Sixteen…no….I guess it’s been almost seventeen years now.”
My heart pounds rapidly. “Did you know Peter?”
Maddox examines me skeptically. “No. Peter was before my time.”
I blink. “They knew each other as youths, then?”
Maddox doesn’t attempt to hide the way his gaze dips to my finger. More specifically, the loose ring that I’m now twirling. “I’m assuming you didn’t get that from Astor.”
I snort in answer, but Maddox only says, “Your fiancé didn’t tell you?”
It’s not as if I haven’t been asked the question before, by Captain Astor even, back when he was trying to get a rise out of me in the cave so that I would forget to give him his dose of rushweed. Still, it stings all the more coming from someone as seemingly genuine as Maddox.
“Tell me what?”
“They grew up together. Lived in the same village. The three of them were as tight-knit as an iron wire cord.”
I frown. “The three of them?”
Maddox nods. “Yeah. Peter, Astor, and Iaso.”
My heart stutters in my chest. “Peter knew Astor’s wife?”