11. Consumed
I t felt like I might wear a permanent path on the wooden floors of our cabin. My mind was racing, and the pacing gave me an outlet. My skin crawled as my thoughts darted from one thing to the next. The entirety of my life’s decisions flickered in my mind like bolts of lightning.
James had left at dawn, leaving me alone again to play victim to my overactive mind. His planning and plotting were barely enough to satiate his hunger for revenge. We were both nearing a breaking point. At least he’d finally slept solidly for the first time in days. Secure in the knowledge that his memories would never fade. It seemed more like a curse than a gift to me. Some things were meant to remain solidly in the dark corners of your psyche.
Yesterday’s meeting with the young princess had left a bad taste in my mouth. I saw the way she looked at him. Like James was her next great conquest. He was too consumed with his own vendetta to see it.
I stopped my pacing long enough to pull my wild hair into a messy bun on top of my head. Even the way it clung to me in the heat of the day was irritating. A rush of cool air on the back of my neck was a welcomed relief on my heated skin. It wasn’t the temperature that had me burning. It was that girl. Tiger Lily, a seemingly innocent young woman, radiated a nauseating power. I didn’t need to touch her to know that her destiny had the potential to upend everything in this realm. How James fit into her overarching plan is what worried me. Because simple favors now meant nothing to her in the scheme of things. The way her fingers had lingered too long on his body. Her coquettish smiles and suggestive looks had gotten under my skin. She looked no more than fifteen, but if she were like Peter, she could be several times my senior. The jealousy was irrational, but it existed, nonetheless.
James’ quest for vengeance was becoming increasingly complicated, tangling me into his ever-evolving web. As much as I tried to deny it, James had made it abundantly clear that no matter how much he loved me, that would never be enough. Not while Peter Pan still drew breath. And that undeniable truth broke my heart.
There had been no word, no news that the faerie mead had found its mark. For a poison that could take a life in a matter of moments, it was taking an awfully long time to produce any results. Were all my efforts wasted?
Against my will, my life now revolved around James’ vendetta, and this capricious child was at the center of it all. That was the crux I struggled with. A constant battle raged in my head. Could I be complicit in killing a child in the name of love? James insisted that despite his outward appearance, Peter had lived many lifetimes. But I couldn’t wipe the youthful sight of him from my conscience. All of this was wrong. I gnawed on my lower lip. Indecision eating me alive. My eyes caught on the tiny vial that contained the last remnants of the poison I’d made. It sat innocuously on the center table, like the essence of springtime captured in a bottle. Its bright, cheery color belying its deadly properties. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. A sinister elixir that had the potential to give me everything I ever wanted.
“Are you quite done sulking?” Meadow chimed in from her little cage. “I’m the melancholy one, remember? Besides, it doesn’t look good on you.”
“I’m fine, Meadow. I just need to think. I need to… I have to…” The answers still eluded me. I couldn’t see my next step forward, and the uncertainty left a knot in the pit of my stomach.
“Don’t think. Act. That’s how pixies do it.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it is. What are you feeling right now?”
“So many things.”
She gave me a questioning look. “That's your problem. Focus on one emotion. The one that takes up the most space.”
I searched within myself, letting my emotions run wild and waited to see which one came out the winner. “Anger,” I whispered.
“A useful emotion, that one. Do you like feeling that way?”
“Not particularly.”
“Well then, use it to make the change you want. It’s that despicable Captain, isn’t it? You want to make him happy?”
“He is a good man, Meadow. I know you cannot see it, but he is. And yes, I want to make him happy. Making him happy makes me happy.”
“So, stop thinking about things. Take all that bottled-up anger and do something with it.”
She was right. I could sit here and contemplate my future for an eternity; all the while, the present was passing me by. I wanted a life with James. Only one thing stood in my way. I grabbed the pistol James had given me. Fuck the poison. I was done waiting. It was time to take fate into my own hands.
Meadow proved invaluable. She was a wealth of knowledge from her little cage attached to my belt. Dictating directions and spouting off Neverland’s history. She helped me navigate the island with ease. She even knew all the spots where Peter and his Lost Boys frequented.
I got caught up in the beauty of Neverland. It was breathtaking. Far surpassing that of our realm. Likely because this place hadn’t been tainted with bad memories. At least not yet. For a time, I lost the edge of anger that had spurred me into leaving the Jolly Roger behind. I’d been ready to serve Peter’s head on a silver platter to my love. But now I hoped we never found him.
“What’s that place up there?” I asked, pointing to an ivory tower nestled on a lofty peak in the distance. The afternoon sun glinted off its pristine walls.
“Oh, that’s the Temple Mount.”
“Maybe you could elaborate a little?”
“It’s the house of the Divine. A sanctuary for all those who serve. A place of great power and knowledge.”
“What kind of knowledge? Things about the island?”
“Some of it, yes. But there’s so much more. An entire library of arcane books. Hidden mysteries of the realms. Magic and prophecies.”
This piqued my interest. There was so much that I didn’t know about this realm and those beyond. My knowledge of the cosmos was infantile, and I was eager to learn. Possibly, there were books about the Heart of the Divine kept in their collection. James had chosen to stash it away and use it as little as possible. Starkey’s warnings of retribution and maintaining balance hadn’t sat well with him. But if I had access to those books, I could look for a way to skirt around the rules.
“Can you take me there sometime?”
“You’re a funny mortal,” she giggled.
“I’m serious. Maybe we could arrange a deal. A little flying time outside the cage, perhaps?”
“Hmm,” she hummed to herself as she thoroughly contemplated my offer. “Throw in some Lush tea, and you have a deal.”
“Lush tea?”
“Yes. Porthos loves— I mean, loved Lush tea,” she said, a slight hitch in her voice as she mentioned her lost mate.
“Whatever it is, I’ll get some for you.”
“You’ll owe me much more than that by the time we’re done today. Listen, can’t you hear them?”
I hadn’t heard anything over the sound of my own feet. I stilled, focusing until the laughter of children drifted in on the breeze.
“We’re nearing the Lagoon. The Lost Boys can’t resist pestering the mermaids. They make a sport of it.” Meadow informed me, but I was barely paying attention. I’d finally found the Lost Boys, and unlike Meadow and her single emotion, fear and excitement were warring within me. My resolve was the only thing that kept me placing one foot in front of the other. I needed to move forward—my conscience be damned.
I hid behind the last wayward palm tree at the edge of the pristine beach. Three young boys swam in the lagoon. All of them focused on whatever rambunctious game they were playing. They all seemed accounted for, except the one I was looking for.
“I don’t see Peter. These are his Lost Boys, so he can’t be far, right?”
“His pixie told me there’s a hidden grotto he likes to visit to get away from the others.”
“Yes, yes, I know the place. You think he’s there?”
“Would be a perfect coincidence if he is. Peter Pan without his Lost Boys—that would make your job much easier.”
“You do realize that I intend to kill him, right?”
“Just because I’m a pixie doesn’t mean that I’m simple. It’s not like you’ve tried to hide your intentions.”
“And you’re okay with this?”
She shrugged her shoulders in response. “Pixies die all the time. It’s the natural way of things. You live for a time and then return to the Divine. Unless you’re Porthos… my poor, sweet Porthos.” Her beautiful tinkling of bells became a soft weeping. Now was not the time to deal with Meadow's heartache, and I took it as my sign to quit stalling and get on with it.
“Wait here, Meadow. I’ll come back for you.”
“Not like I’m going anywhere,” she snorted, wiping away her tears and motioning at her cage. Her words were thick with emotion, laced with some clear indignation. I brushed her off. Her imprisonment was yet another decision that I was still trying to justify to myself. But I could only deal with one lapse in judgment at a time. I hid her cage among the foliage before I took a shaky step toward fulfilling my destiny.
I pulled the pistol from the belt at my waist and did my best to remain hidden as I made my way to the cliffs. Luck was on my side. I managed to arrive at the small crevice in the rock wall without attracting attention from Peter’s Lost Boys.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim light of the grotto. But there, resting before the pristine pool, was Peter. Curled up on a fur. A lock of auburn hair fell across cheeks dotted with freckles. He looked every bit the innocent child as he slept. A tear escaped from the corner of my eye as I brought the pistol up, aiming at the slight rise and fall of his chest. My hand shook violently. My whole body was at war with itself. One flinch of a muscle and the trigger would be pulled. And I wouldn’t have to share James with this boy anymore.
But I couldn’t do it.
I sank to my knees, a sob escaping my lips, echoing off the cavern walls. I’d been so close to achieving my destiny, and I couldn’t do it. The sound of my breakdown had the boy instantly on his feet with his sword drawn.
He cocked his head as intelligent eyes took me in. “I remember you. You’re awfully pretty to be Jas’ mother.”
“No, I’m not his mother. I’m his, err… wife.” I’m not sure why I referred to myself as his wife. I tried to reason that it was easier than describing the intricacies of our relationship to a child. But saying it aloud brought a flush to my cheeks and a longing in my heart.
“Only old men have wives—I suppose it makes sense for Jas. But are you sure you really want to be a wife? That’s just another name for a housemaid. Do the laundry, cook the meals, and clean the house. That doesn’t sound like much fun,” he said as he sheathed his sword, obviously deeming that I was no threat to him, even with my pistol hanging useless in my hand. “But I’ve got an idea! Come and be our mother,” he said, a spark of light flickering in his brown eyes. “You could tell us stories, sing us to sleep at night, and in return, we’d build you a house and bring you flowers all the time.”
My words caught in my throat. How was it this boy had reached into my soul, dragging out things I didn’t even know I wanted for myself. A vision of a blonde-haired little boy playing in a field danced through my mind. The possibility of having a child with James was something I hadn’t allowed myself to consider. A figment of a reality that was slowly slipping through my fingers.
“That sounds lovely,” I choked out. I took a tentative step toward him. If I could only touch him. Then, I could see what his future held. “Do you think the other boys would enjoy having a mother?”
“Doesn’t matter what they think. I’m the captain, so whatever I say goes.”
I was so close to him now. I could have easily raised my pistol and shot him at close range before he even had a chance to react. But instead of a pistol, I reached for him, cupping his cheek, and letting the vision flood into me.
An open window.
A beautiful woman crying.
A line in the sand.
Tiger Lily.
Bones—so many bones.
A crocodile snapping its jaws.
Blood spreading over ivory silk.
James.
I recoiled from him as if I’d touched an ember, trying to mask the sharp intake of air. His eyes narrowed, letting me know he hadn’t missed the change in my behavior.
“Are you fae?” he asked, appraising me with new eyes.
“No, I’m not fae. I’m human, like you.”
“You may be mortal, but you’re more than human. You’re special.”
I laughed at that. “Well, I’m glad you think I’m special. Does ‘special’ still fit the bill for a good mother?”
“That means you’re extra qualified. What do you say? Are you ready to leave Granddad behind and join the Lost Boys?”
“Granddad?” I chuckled at his depiction of James. “I thought once a Lost Boy, always a Lost Boy? Why can’t you and Jas settle your issues and let it go?”
“Nah, Jas broke the rules. He should have stayed gone, but now he’s made it personal. To be honest, I can barely remember our time together. But as long as he remains on the island, he’s my enemy. It’s that simple.”
“Simple would be for both of you to forget about all of this and go on with your own lives.”
“That’s not the way of things. But we’ll teach you all the rules once you’ve agreed to be our mum. So, what do you say?”
“I’m sorry, Peter, but I can’t be your mother. I can’t even be a good wife.”