Chapter 28
H ook closed the front cover of the journal and looked up for the first time since starting his tale.
"You wanted to know the truth about them. That's where it all started."
"Awful," I croaked, swiping my hand over my runny nose. "So much pain. What they did was terrible, but they were children, and?—"
" He was a child," Hook corrected with a grimace.
"She was and still is immortal, and was no child when they met, except for by hobgoblin standards.
She's at least fifty years older than Pan.
She knew exactly what she was doing when she met him.
Using his love for her to get what she wanted.
Giving him the care and attention he was starving for. But she was starving, too."
"How do you mean?" And why did he keep calling her all these names…hobgoblin… succubus? She was the epitome of a fairy in every child’s book I'd ever seen.
But before I could ask, Hook had begun to speak again.
"Tink’s kind require a constant stream of external energy to preserve their magic, which is why they were killed off en masse decades before.
All except her. The glamour spell she uses to make herself look like that alone would drain her within weeks if she didn't replenish that well.
Where better to get it than from a group of energetic, Tideblessed little boys who no one would ever miss. .."
It was like every molecule of air was sucked from the room and for a second, my vision went hazy. Thoughts of Caleb, Tristan, and Cissy ran through my mind.
"What are you saying? The Lost Boys...they take them so she can drain them of their magic?”
“Not just their magic. She drains them of life.”
I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. "Caleb...that's why he's so sick."
"It took me nearly a year to figure it out, and another still to plan how to get us out of there. How fucked is that?" His lips twisted into a sad smile. "Because it wasn't me she was draining just yet, I waited a whole year to make my move."
When his meaning finally hit me, everything before it paled in comparison. "You were one of them. You weren't a friend of his, you were one of The Lost Boys," I managed through numb lips.
"I was. James Tyler.”
J.T.
"You carved your initials into the windowsill!"
"I did. I was brought to Neverland when I was around twelve years old. They fed me. They took care of me. I had friends there, and wanted so badly for it to be as perfect as it seemed. But nothing ever is, is it? Once Miguel's Tideblessing mark began to fade and he grew ill, I finally knew for sure. It took months to plan our escape and figure out how to make sure they could never hurt anyone like that again. That’s where the clock came in.”
His eyes were unseeing, as if he was no longer here with me, but was there, in the past again as he continued.
“It was so strange. It made a ticking sound, but the hands never actually moved. I offered to try to fix it for them, and Pan lost it. I knew then, it held magic that they needed. It wasn’t until later, after me, Tommy and Miguel tried to escape that I learned the whole truth.
When Tink gave him a piece of her heart, he was able to use some of her magic, but she was unable to share her immortality with him.
He continued to age, and they knew being together forever would be impossible unless that stopped.
So, she spent years gathering as much energy as she could—leaving a trail of bodies in her wake, I’m sure—and she used every bit of it to separate Pan from his shadow. ”
His shadow? I stared at him in confusion. What would that have accomplished?
Before I could ask, Hook was answering my question.
“Our shadows are the vessels for our souls. Once she separated Pan from his, she trapped it inside the clock. As long as that clock doesn’t advance, Pan’s soul is forever stuck at the age he was when she first severed it.
This makes him, like her, effectively immortal in that time cannot kill them, and the only way I can kill them is if the clock is running again. ”
"You stole it to figure out a way to get it working, but before you could, Noru threw a wrench in the works. Makes sense.”
“I’ve been trying to get the clock back and restart it ever since, knowing that, when I do, Pan and Tink will finally come face me. Then I can finally end this for good.”
I was quiet for a long moment as all of this new information sank in.
How in the hell had I not noticed that Pan didn’t have a shadow? I’d been looking so hard for clues and digging for information, but I’d missed something huge, and it had been right in front of me.
I swallowed hard and asked the question that had been dogging me since I’d heard about Miguel’s death. Taking a breath, I dove right into it.
“Pan also said it was you that killed Miguel. Is that true?”
His face went blank, and he looked off into the distance.
“No, he was telling the truth about that. Tink hadn’t finished draining Miguel, so my magic continued to develop.
I hid it as best I could, and spent the better part of that year honing my own skills, and became an adept swordsman.
Pan helped train me. Despite my youth, I got the best of him in the fight, and was about to deal him a killing blow when he yanked Miguel in front of him like a human shield.
I didn’t have the skill to avoid running Miguel through. ”
“Pan killed him, then. Not you,” I spat, grateful for the rush of outrage that took sadnesses’ place for the moment.
“That’s not the way the universe looks at it.”
“How can you possibly know that?”
He set his ebony eyes on me, and the weight there was more than I could bear to look at.
“I just know,” he said flatly. “You’ll have to trust me on that.”
"And you also know about their history at the orphanage…about Tink's giving Pan a piece of her heart…how? Did you steal the journals from Neverland when you stole the clock?"
“Not exactly, but something like that.” He paused and then looked away. "I’ve done all the talking I’m going to do for now. Either you believe what I’ve told you, or you believe those two. It’s your turn. Who are you really, Harmony Fallowell, and where is Ca’an Saas?"
I chewed the inside of my cheek for a moment.
This was the tricky bit. I was still trying to figure out how to explain it all in a way that didn't make him think I was crazy, or upend everything this man knew about his own life and existence. I might despise him at times, but the thought of hurting him unsettled me in a way I didn’t want to look too closely at.
Especially now that I knew what he'd been through.
And something told me we'd only scratched the surface on that.
I thought about starting the night of the palace Jubilee. Telling him about Moll and Heinrich and Relyk and The Speaker. But part of me knew if I didn't say the hard part now, I was never going to have the balls to say it.
So for the second time that night, I just dove off the deep end and spit it out.
"The reason Ca'an Saas can't be found on your maps is because we're living inside a fairytale book right now," I blurted in a rush.
"I was sent into this book by my real parents in order to protect me from the evil witch, Almira, in the hopes that I would someday grow wise and strong enough to leave the book and return home to save my people. The man who adopted me found me in the woods of a place called Alabaster with a fairytale book tucked into my blanket to help guide me, and a falcon at my side, I think to watch over me. Once I grew up and learned the lessons I needed to in that story and retrieved the item that would help me succeed, I was able to turn the page and leave it behind for this one. I believe I have one more destination before I can get back home to Ca’an Saas.
In order to get there, I need the magic clock. "
I didn't know what I expected him to do, but, when he threw his head back and started laughing, I knew it definitely wasn't that.
And for the first time ever, it wasn't that derisive, humorless laugh.
He was full-on belly cackling, to the point that he had to pause to wipe his eyes.
Long enough that I feared that I had broken his sanity.
Then, he rose to his feet in one, smooth motion and made his way to the same book shelf he’d taken the journal from. This time, he selected a thick tome tucked at the very end of the row.
“Look familiar?” he rasped, tossing the book onto the desk between us.
It landed with a heavy thud , and I stared down at the cover in stunned silence.
Fairy Tales of the Ages.
The same book that I’d had with me when my father had found me, only instead of the page edges being gilded in gold, these were shrouded in black.
“I don’t understand,” I whispered, reaching out to trace the familiar, spiky script of the title with my finger. “How?”