Chapter 2
Chapter Two
HOOK
Pixie dust. Of all the things in this world, I'm stuck relying on pixie dust. "Come on, darling," I mutter, tapping my hook against the table.
The metal clangs, louder than the silence in the room.
Wendy's hunched over, fussing with the pouch like it's some kind of delicate flower.
It's dust. Shake it, toss it, open the portal. Not exactly rocket science.
"This isn't as simple as you think, Hook," she bites back, not even looking up.
I roll my eyes. "Of course it's not, love. Everything with you is a meticulous ballet, isn't it? Can't just get things done, can we? Gotta drag it out, make it a grand affair. Why rush when Smee could be lost in Wonderland forever?"
She huffs, shaking out some of the dust, trying to focus like she's in the middle of performing heart surgery. It's almost laughable—if it wasn't wasting so much damn time.
I get up, pacing the room, my boots heavy on the floor. "It's pixie dust, sweetheart, not an enchanted bomb. Flick your wrist, open the portal, and let's get on with it."
"You think it's that easy?" she snaps.
I stop pacing and lean in close. “Yes, love, I do.” My voice drops to a growl.
“Because every second we’re stuck here playing, Smee’s sinking deeper into that madhouse of a world.
And I didn’t send my first mate to fetch some magic trinket just to lose him to their madness.
” My fist clenches, the leather of my glove creaking.
“That amulet’s the only thing keeping Neverland from crumbling into fairy dust, and I’ll be damned if I let it slip away because you can’t sprinkle some pixie powder. ”
She finally looks up at me, eyes blazing with frustration. But she’s not the one who should be frustrated. That’s my job.
The truth is, the Queen of Hearts has stolen Neverland’s amulet.
I don’t know how she got her claws on it, but thanks to her and her royal greed, Neverland is falling apart.
The kids are ageing, the magic is dying, and the children in Hollow Land aren’t dreaming like they should.
And those dreams? They’re what fuels us.
I sent Smee after it. Him, not me. He should’ve been back by now. But he isn’t. I start pacing again.
“You know, I’m doing my best,” Wendy mutters.
“Your best?” I scoff. “This is your best? We’re standing here watching you faff around with glitter.
” I let out a sigh, my patience fraying.
“Time’s slipping away, Wendy. Don’t you get that?
Don’t you even look in the mirror? I mean, just look at you—seems puberty finally kicked in.
” I cock an eyebrow at her. Wendy, who always looked around fourteen, now.
.. well, let’s just say she’s developed some fine assets.
She glares at me, hands planted on her hips. “Maybe if you stopped breathing down my neck—”
“Oh, don’t flatter yourself, love. If I wanted to breathe down someone’s neck, I’d make sure they knew it.” I flash her a grin, but it’s thin, more irritation than charm.
Wendy turns away, flicking the dust into the air. It shimmers, hanging there for a moment, like it’s actually going to work this time. And then—nothing. Just the same useless glitter floating in the air.
I laugh, a short, bitter sound. “Oh, well done, love. Brilliant effort. We’ll have the Queen quaking in her boots in no time.”
“Shut up, Hook,” she snaps, throwing the empty pouch onto the table. “I’m trying.”
I lean back against the wall, folding my arms. “If we don’t get that amulet back, we’re all screwed, including you. So try harder, because it’s been a month, and look at this mess. Look at you, look at this place. Look at my hair—there’s grey in it.”
Just as I finish, the door slams open. Perfect. Just what we need—the last person I want to see right now. Tinkerbell.
Wings glittering, she zips into the room, looking far too smug for my liking. Her landing, though, isn’t as graceful as usual, and she nearly stumbles when she comes to a stop. But, of course, she says nothing, and I bite back the sarcastic comment on the tip of my tongue.
“Still messing with the dust?” she says, sauntering over to Wendy. “No wonder nothing’s working—you’re doing it wrong.”
“Oh, fantastic,” I say, rolling my eyes as I push off the wall. “Here comes the expert.”
Tinkerbell spins around and glares at me.
“Like you’ve got better ideas, Captain Vanity.
”“Actually, yes, my idea was that you’d show up sooner,” I say, crossing my arms and leaning back casually.
“Smee’s missing, time’s running out, and we can’t even get through the bloody portal to save him or the amulet.
So unless you’ve come here to fix this mess, why don’t you flap those glittery wings of yours and buzz off? ”
“I wasn’t the one dragging my feet, refusing to use pixie dust, was I?” Tinkerbell shoots back, hovering in the air like she owns the place.
Wendy crosses her arms, throwing a look at Tink. “You know, if we stopped arguing for five minutes, we might actually get something done.”
Tinkerbell smirks, that all-too-smug look plastered on her face. “Exactly.” She zips up, snatches the pouch of pixie dust off the table, and flicks it open with a dramatic flair. “Step aside, amateurs. Watch how it’s really done.”
She grabs a pinch of dust and flings it into the air, her wings glowing brighter for a moment. For a second, I almost think she might botch it—almost.
The dust hangs in the air, sparkling, and then there’s a faint crackling sound, like something’s finally waking up. The air shifts. A shimmer appears—faint at first, but slowly building into a swirling, shimmering portal right in the middle of the room.
“The portal to Wonderland,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Finally. About time someone around here knew what they were doing.”
Tinkerbell crosses her arms, a smirk curling on her lips. “Next time, maybe trust the pixie.”
“Trust you?” I scoff, raising an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t go that far, love. But I’ll admit, you saved the day—this time. Now, it’s my turn.”
The portal flickers as the magic stabilises, and Wendy looks up at me. “Now what?”
I grin, stepping towards the swirling gateway. “Now, darling, we get the amulet back, and I save the bloody day.”
Tinkerbell crosses her arms again, her smirk unwavering. “If you mess this up, I’m not saving your arse again.”
“Oh, Tink,” I say with a wink, stepping through the portal, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
And with that, I’m gone—into Wonderland, with nothing but the fading shimmer of the portal behind me.