Chapter 5 #2
“He’s got a weak constitution is all. Nothing to be done but let him rest when he needs it,” Tink said with an absent smile. “Now let’s try this fish you all worked so hard to catch today.”
I had to admit, it was delicious, and for a few minutes, I nearly lost myself in the ease of it all.
Cissy’s laughter, Pan’s silly story about a turtle he’d tried to ride the week before, only to get chased off by something called a barracuda.
Even Tristan seemed content, especially when Fetch flew in through the open window and perched on his shoulder.
Which was why, between dinner and dessert, I was wrestling with myself in a big way.
Say it and risk suspicion, or don’t say it?
Two weeks…
I patted my mouth with a napkin and shot Pan a curious glance. “I couldn’t help but notice that huge dark oval at the edge of the largest map on the wall. The Weeping Fen, I think it was labeled? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it.”
Tink’s smooth brow furrowed as she forked up her last bite of fish. “Where did you say you were from, again?”
“Blackbriar.” My answer was at the ready, what with my spanking new map knowledge. “But we lived in a tiny village and really didn’t get out much. My parents kept us very sheltered…before they died, that is.”
“Must have been nice to have been protected.” Pan’s face darkened for a second, but then he rallied and managed a smile.
“Want me to tell her about The Fen, Pan?” Cissy asked, scooting closer and setting her elbows on the table. “I know about it real good.”
“Sure, let’s hear it, kiddo.”
“The Weeping Fen is where monsters be,” Cissy said in a spooky voice, adopting Pan’s dramatic storytelling style.
“A giant saber-toothed tiger called Belial, big as an elephant. Serpents by the dozens, with fangs the size of me! A hydra known as Gretyl, with three heads that haunts the swamps and caves,” she hissed, holding up her fingers like fangs.
“And of course, Noru, The Ticking Croc, who rules them all.”
“This crocodile rules…them all?” I had never seen one in real life, but I’d read about them in stories. And, while I certainly wasn’t in a rush to run into one, I found it hard to believe that a Hydra with three heads would be afraid of a croc, ticking or not.
“You better believe it,” Pan said with a grim nod.
“He’s the toughest bastard around and they all know it.
And when he’s surrounded by the magic of The Fen, he’s even stronger, which is why we have to lie in wait for those rare times he comes out and hope we get to him before that dastardly bastard Hook does.
It sounds like I’m telling tall tales, but you have to see this critter to believe it.
He’s a killing machine. Scratch that. You don’t want to see him, because it’d likely be the last thing you ever saw.
You’ll just have to take my word for it. ”
But would I?
Late that night, long after the dishes were cleared, and everyone else was fast asleep, I was listening to Molly’s low snores from the bed a few yards away. I lay tucked in a perfectly snug nook beneath the windowsill, staring at the night sky, my thoughts running amok.
What must’ve been a billion stars twinkled overhead, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they were the same stars that hung over Alabaster. Was Duncan looking at them too?
Was Captain Hook?
I pressed my forehead against the cool glass with a sigh.
Clearly, the man played some part in my destiny. But it wasn’t like I’d had prophetic dreams before. Just because I’d dreamt that he’d…
That we’d…
“Stop that right this instant, you dolt!” I hissed under my breath.
I was just about to climb back into my bed when I squinted, pressing my nose against the glass.
A tiny set of initials were neatly carved into the wood on the interior of the frame.
J.T.
One of the earlier Lost Boys? Or maybe Pan and Tink had kids of their own at some point?
Who knew…and what did it matter? Thinking about the sad tale Pan had told would only make it harder to do what needed to be done.
Right now, I needed to make a plan that would allow me to complete my task in this place so I could move on to the next.
And eventually, get back home. I had no idea where that might be, but one thing was for sure.
My heart ached for it. Now that I knew there was a place out there for me, the need to be there, to get there was all consuming.
I closed my eyes and focused, bringing forward the mental images I’d stored of the map-covered walls.
Then, for the better part of an hour, I studied it all in quadrants.
Every drawing, every item, every scrap of information I could recall.
By the time I’d opened them, I felt sure I’d filled in most of the blanks.
Everything I’d seen in that room tonight led me to the conclusion that Pan, Tink, and Hook himself had spent more than a decade waiting for the rare times— Ebonfall, I reminded myself—that Noru left The Weeping Fen in hopes of catching him.
The most dreaded pirate of all time, a fairy with magic I couldn’t even hope to compete with, and Pan, who had motive to burn.
And each time, they’d failed.
Which meant if I had any chance of getting my hands on that clock before my time here was up, I would have to enter the belly of the beast.
I needed to go to The Weeping Fen.
But first, I needed to steal one of Pan’s little boats to get us to Blackbriar and find someone willing to be our guide.
I’d just have to wait for my moment, and hope we got far far away from Neverland before anyone even realized we were gone.
Because, while he might seem like a child at times, from what I’d seen on those walls tonight?
Peter Pan held grudges.
And he was not an enemy to be taken lightly.