Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
One minute, Sidney had been standing in the middle of a library that would have made M.C.
Esher dizzy. Then, without warning, it had all simply faded away, and she was standing in the secret hideaway of Peter Pan.
It was built into an enormous hollow tree that was somehow alive and seemingly thriving.
It was some two hundred feet tall, the branches stretching out over the rest of the canopy.
There were caves down below that the Lost Boys used to pop in and out of other parts of Neverland without having to travel through the jungle.
Stairs and rickety rope and wood gangways had been built criss-crossing through the interior structure of the tree, with little hovels for each of the Lost Boys built for them to sleep.
The first thing that she thought of was a Keebler Elf tree from hell. It made her laugh. And also made her suddenly want cookies.
She had appeared standing near the top on a ramshackle balcony, looking out over the island of Neverland. It was a gorgeous tropical paradise. Somewhere out there were mermaids. And a tribe of extremely racially insensitively written native people. And magic. And fairies.
But also pirates.
And death.
And evil.
She remembered the book. She knew what was going to happen next. She’d seen the dead bodies in the sand when she’d chased after Peter only an hour earlier. She’d seen the headless corpse of a Lost Boy.
They aren’t real. They’re just…it’s like a video game, right? They’re just NPCs you’re killing. Nobody cares about killing NPCs. But where was the line? Was their suffering real?
Was hers?
Tropical fucking island with goddamn mermaids and she was standing there having an internal debate about the nature of the self. She wanted an alcoholic beverage in a coconut with a little paper parasol in it while she got a tan on the beach. Not this.
She stared blankly off into the distance of Neverland. She couldn’t believe it. Really just couldn’t believe any of it. It felt like an impossible dream, still. The insanity of it all.
But what choice did she have? She had to play along.
That thing that her sister was trapped with was going to try to kill her!
If she didn’t play along, one or both of them would wind up actually dead.
She didn’t have the luxury of putting her fingers in her ears and going “la la la.” She had to dance the dance.
She shuddered at the memory of Vile. The strange inky darkness with too many glowing purple eyes. The thing was right out of one of Sasha’s fucked-up comic books or animated shows. It was wrong. And it was going to try to kill her. For real.
“Wendy? Are you all right?”
And now she had to deal with this shit. She turned to see Peter-fucking-Pan watching her, concern in his big brown eyes. His Lost Boys were behind him, dressed in their rags and leaves and whatever flotsam or bits of civilization washed up that they could fashion into clothes.
She knew that it was actually Virtue in there, playing a role, standing on stage, expecting her to do the same. But she didn’t know her goddamn lines. She smiled, nervously. “Yeah. I’m all right. Just—worried.”
“The pirates won’t find us in here.” His smile was beaming with pride. “This is my secret hideout and they’ll never find it.”
She really didn’t have the heart to tell him.
Besides, how did that work? Could she spoil the ending? Was she allowed to change the ending? Wasn’t that the point of what she and Sasha were supposed to do?
Would it even work if they tried?
“It’s a wonderful hideout.” Sidney felt like the worst actress in the world. And she probably was. “I don’t—geh!” She yelped and swiped at a giant insect that whipped up to her face.
Only the insect was glowing.
“Sweet Jesus mother of fucking Christ on a shitting pogo stick—” Ducking, she took another swipe at the thing as it angrily buzzed at her again. “What kind of fucked up super-insects do they have on this —”
Peter was laughing. Hard. But it wasn’t the laugh of Peter Pan, it was the laugh of Virtue. “I don’t think Wendy would swear like that.”
“Wendy’s not the one getting buzzed by a fuckin’ angry F-14!” Sidney managed to smack the insect, sending it flying into a tree. She straightened back up, glaring at the glowing insect now that she’d managed to get some distance from it.
There, clinging to the tree, holding her little head and rubbing her temple, was a very angry and very naked glowing pixie.
The pixie glared at her. Then flipped her off.
Huh. That part wasn’t in the book.
“You’re changing it. Just by being here.
If you swear, so will they. If you want this to be more of a mature story, they’ll be more mature.
If you’re more modern, they’ll be more modern.
” Virtue-as-Peter walked up to her, smiling at her with an amused and strangely hopeful expression. “You’re one of the authors, now.”
“So Tinker Bell’s naked and angry because I made her naked and angry.” Sidney furrowed her brow. That didn’t make any sense.
“Kind of? It’s…a mix. Like that cocktail you wanted.” Peter scratched the back of his head. “Part you, part the original story, part whatever Sasha is doing.”
It was like watching another actor dub over the lines for someone else. Virtue’s voice coming out of Peter Pan’s mouth. It was a little unsettling. But this whole thing was unsettling.
Tinker Bell was now spouting off at Sidney, waving her hands and yelling. Unfortunately for Tink, all her words came out just as weird little bell chimes and happy shimmery noises.
But Sidney knew she was getting cussed out, New York cab driver style. It made her snicker. “Sorry, Tinker Bell. I didn’t know it was you.”
Tink crossed her arms over her chest and let out a visible harrumph.
Peter smiled, his voice snapping back to his own self. “I know what’ll cheer you up! We should go on an adventure! Wouldn’t that be grand? Let’s go visit the mermaids! Then, we’ll come back here and have a grand feast!”
Ah, shit. That was the part where it all went wrong, wasn’t it? The mermaids. But the smile on “Peter’s” face told her there was no dissuading him. “Y—yeah.” She smiled. “That sounds incredible.”
But part of her couldn’t help but be excited, even just a little bit. Mermaids. She was going to get to meet a mermaid.
Everything that was going on was too much for her to process all at once. Being trapped in a book. A game that would likely wind up with either her or her sister dead. And the Hero of all Heroes staring at her with a boyish, lopsided, and extremely handsome smile.
But the idea of meeting a mermaid…made her wonder. Maybe this wasn’t going to be all bad.
Peter held out his hand to her. “Let’s fly.”
I’m going to get to fly…
Maybe a little adventure was just what she needed.
Sasha came to while polishing a silver goblet. It was really disconcerting, just “waking up” like that. When the ground moved under her feet, it didn’t help matters, and she had to quickly grab onto the piece of furniture in front of her to keep from toppling over.
That meant she almost lost her grip on the silver goblet. Scrambling to grab it before it hit the ground, she caught it at the last second, letting out a breath of relief as finally everything seemed to stabilize.
“You’ll forgive me for not applauding.”
Looking up, she found the source of the voice quickly.
Captain Hook. Vile, she corrected herself. The pirate king was sitting at a harpsichord, managing to play deftly with one hand and a hook. It meant his left hand had to do more work, but if she hadn’t known he was missing a hand, she wouldn’t have been able to guess by the sound of it.
“What—what just happened?”
“Scene change.” He smirked. “I’m always fascinated by who can feel it happening and who can’t. You’ll get used to it. But for a little while, I’m afraid it will be a bit disorienting.”
Scene change. Right. She put the goblet back down on the piece of furniture.
It was an elaborately carved wooden dresser.
She was once again Mr. Smee, which was a little embarrassing but mostly weird.
When she caught a reflection of herself in a mirror mounted to the wall, tarnished and wobbly as the reflection was in the antique style glass, she was glad to see her own face looking back at her.
She wasn’t staring at some old, podgy guy.
They were on Captain Hook’s ship, that much was very clear.
They were in Hook’s quarters, judging by how roomy and decadent everything was.
But like the version of the man himself, this adaptation of Hook’s home looked more suited to a nightmare than a children’s story.
The movement under her feet had been the slight swaying of the boat with the waves.
“I will admit you do make the most attractive Mr. Smee I believe any adaptation has ever given me.” Hook chuckled as he kept playing, the music slow and set in a minor key, which was perfectly fitting.
“Am I talking to Captain Hook or Vile?”
“Yes.” When he glanced at her, looking up from the black and white keys briefly, one of his eyes flashed that strange, inhuman, and glowing purple.
A brief wicked smile, and he went back to focusing on the instrument.
“I thought perhaps you’d have questions.
Concerns. Complaints for management. Things of that nature.
You seem to be the inquisitive twin. Best you get them out now before we are in the thick of things, Mr. Smee.
Can’t have you pondering the physics of the universe while there are Lost Boys attempting to murder us both. ”
“Is my sister safe?”