Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Vera
Ihave a splitting headache, but nothing to take to get rid of it.
I groan as I reach up, rubbing at my temple as I visualize my medicine cabinet.
However, no matter how much I daydream nothing changes the fact that I’m sitting at the edge of Naia’s bed where she is recovering from her stab wound not in my apartment in my world.
For her part, she has bounced back exceedingly well, considering she was stabbed only a little bit ago.
Her shoulder is all bandaged up and she has a pinch of color back in her cheeks. I wonder how much of it is due to the royal physician’s care and how much of it was from Frederick doting over her till I finally stepped in and mentioned something about propriety, and he finally left us alone.
“Is every ball like that?” Naia asks dreamily.
“Probably not as exciting,” I mutter, my voice muffled since my chin is resting on my hand. I wonder when she will fall asleep. She seems to want to stay up all night talking about the ball. Meanwhile, I have a pirate in a dungeon I need to rescue.
The ironic thing is that I’m not even too worried about the furious prince. He might want to execute James for attempted murder, but he won’t get the chance. Something far darker and… younger already called dibs on Captain Hook’s fate.
I press my eyes shut. We missed our chance at the ball, everything is still in motion for Neverland, and the grand betrayal and death that will happen tomorrow.
No, it’s past midnight, I suppose it’s today now.
“I need another day, Moira,” Naia says, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turn to her surprised. “Another day of this, another chance to be near him.”
Oh, she means to stay human. For a second I thought she was talking about how she wanted another day before the end of the script. I had been about to agree.
I nibble on my lip as I consider what she is saying. This is a crucial part of the story, where Moira barters for Naia’s soul. She will give her legs for another day, but only one more day and then Naia would turn into sea foam.
In the end, Moira realized that if she truly loved Frederick, she would not be able to take his beloved and grants Naia back her soul so that they can be together forever. It’s part of her redemption; she dies but paves a way for her cousin to be happy.
I have no need for the poor girl’s soul. Unlike her song which I thought would be useful, a soul won’t further my goal to get home. And even that song wound up being more trouble than it was worth.
I reach into my satchel by the foot of the bed where I left my clothes. I pull out one of the vials and pass it back to her without another glance. “Here. Drinking this dose should make the effects permanent. Use it well.”
“What do you want in return?” Naia asks staring at it enthralled. I think if I really did ask for her soul, she would agree in a heartbeat. Silly girl, but then I suppose I’m the reason she is silly. I made her that way.
Naia was my harsh criticism on innocence and naiveite.
Showing that she was wrong to try to see the best in everyone and that type of wishful thinking almost cost the mermaid her soul.
But maybe I was wrong, after all it’s the harsh jaded character who died in the end.
Not the one who genuinely believed that the world could be a better place.
I wrap my arms around myself, trying to stave off a sudden chill. “Nothing,” I say. She looks up stunned and I shrug. “Think of it as an apology.”
“An apology for what?” Naia asks.
I reach up, rubbing at my forehead. How about for trying to kill the love of your life and getting you injured earlier?
Or just for being a rotten writer who failed to give you depth and only wanted to teach you a harsh lesson about the world being a dark place?
I sigh and shake my head. Not that Naia would understand any of that.
“For being a terrible cousin,” I say at last. I push to my feet, grabbing my clothes and my satchel and glance over at Naia. She seems so small against that bed.
She beams up at me as she clutches the bottle to her chest.
“Get some rest,” I say with a nod. Something about my words feel final. Like this is the last time I will see her. Hopefully it is, because once I get James we are making a run for it.
We are going to run as far and as fast as we can away from this palace as we can possibly get. Because Peter Pan is coming.
I go behind the screen and change back into the clothing I took from the Jolly Roger this morning. It’s a bit easier to run around in than the ball gown I have on right now. I pull my satchel on and as I step out from behind the screen, I see that Naia has finally fallen asleep.
I wonder what will happen to her. In the script, Peter Pan brings Naia and Frederick to Neverland because he sensed the twisted bonds between them and Hook and Moira, and he thought it would be more fun to toy with them all at once.
But I’m not Moira, I don’t have any twisted bonds with Naia.
I also already completed our particular arc; I gave her the vial to make her a human and let her keep her soul.
There isn’t really a reason for her to get dragged to Neverland, but I wonder if she will be abducted just because it is in the plot.
And Frederick? Well, I was willing to off him, so I doubt it could still be said that I have a crush on him. He’s handsome too, but apparently I find him extremely expendable. Sorry, Frederick.
Even if I get away… will she and Frederick still be trapped?
I shake my head, jarring that thought from my mind. It doesn’t matter. If she winds up stranded in Neverland it wouldn’t be my fault. That’s on Peter Pan and him alone. I have one responsibility here and that is to James who is currently rotting in prison for a crime I talked him into committing.
I press my lips together, twisting them into a twisted smile. “Best of luck,” I tell Naia. Not that she needs it. She has her legs, she has her prince, and she has a happy ending. Which all in all is more than I ever got.
I have trauma from morphing into another species, a locked-up pirate, and a home I thought I hated but I’m fighting to get back to anyway. I suppose that if this whole ordeal has taught me anything it’s that I don’t hate my life, it’s just that I’m burnt out.
Maybe I should have been a bit more like James and viewed this as a vacation and tried to enjoy myself more. I finger the bracelet as I slip down the halls.
Maybe once we get home, James and I ought to take a trip together, one that really is a vacation. That way we can relax and recover from this whole ordeal together.
I draw up short at that thought, and it’s a good thing too because a guard rounds the corner up ahead. I quickly duck behind a column.
However, my mind isn’t in the game. Instead it’s racing with thoughts of James and me in the modern world. Wait, what would that make us?
I feel like we are a bit more than coworkers, but are we quite friends?
I think about James risking his hand to save my life and buying me a souvenir.
Friend doesn’t seem to be the right word for it either.
I give my head a sharp shake as the guard disappears down the hallway to Naia’s room.
Nope, I don’t have time to think about this right now.
I take a note out of James’s book and stuff these thoughts into a box to return to later. One thing, at least, is certain: James and I are now something. We have been through too much together to not be. Once we have lived through this, we can discuss the specifics.
As I walk, I realize that I don’t know where the dungeons are. I’m just taking turns at random, hoping that if I came up with the rest of this world, I’ll be able to find the dungeon on instinct like somehow its location is buried deep in my subconscious. So, I let my feet guide me.
I duck down one hall because it is dark and another because it feels a bit more dank.
Soon enough, I find myself in a long, dimly lit hallway.
It has no outlet, save for a single closed wooden door at the very end that just screams dungeon.
A guard sits on a chair outside the doorway, wearing a tabard and chainmail and one of those shiny medieval-looking helmets that obscure the face.
I suppose, it was asking for too much to hope that the dungeon was unguarded.
If I were Moira, I would have the siren’s song I took from Naia. In fact, by this point in the plot she had used it to enthrall Frederick and take him with her. Naia had followed, finally beginning to suspect her cousin (only after trading her soul, though, silly girl).
That way all four of the key characters of the plot were in the dungeon at the beginning of the climax so that they could all be transported to Neverland.
But the plot has changed. I don’t have the siren’s song. I threw it off the dock. Frederick, for all I know, is sleeping soundly in his bed, and Naia has her soul still intact.
Yet, one key thing is the same. James is locked in the dungeon, and I have to rescue him before Peter Pan gets here.
When I first read the story of Peter Pan, I was enthralled by the boy who never grew up, but as I grew older and reread my favorite tale, I found it to be far darker than I’d imagined.
It had almost seemed as though Neverland was a sort of purgatory where Wendy and her brother’s souls were kept as they fought for their life against some illness.
They got better and so were able to escape Neverland.
But the same could not be said for the lost boys.
Macabre, I know, but I suppose that’s just the type of person I am.
My other favorite story growing up was a tale about a girl turning into sea foam at the end.
It’s no wonder that Moira and Hook’s story took such a dark turn, especially when I made Peter Pan a bit more like the character I experienced the last time I read the tale.
Still, it leaves me with the problem of what I’m going to do about the guard in the hallway. I don’t have the siren’s song anymore, and without it or her potions, Moira was always powerless. It was part of what drove her to seek revenge that feeling of powerlessness.
I put my chin up, throw back my shoulders, and stride forward. “I hope you know who I am,” I say in my most authoritative tone, trying to draw on my inner Moira—if she exists at all.
The guard stares at me silently.
I flip my hair over my shoulder. “I’m the prince’s special guest and I demand to have words with the man who would dare to harm my cousin.”
The guard continues to stare, and for a second, I think that’s it, game over. I’m not getting into the dungeon, but then he jerks his head toward the door. “Watch your step, the stairs are steep.”
With that, I’m free to proceed. I kind of don’t want to. I know that if I go down the stairs, I’m just moving closer to the end of the script and my inevitable death.
If I run now, I might just live. I’d have to resign myself to living life in this world.
I could be a fisher woman, or try to pick up alchemy with my inner-Moira as my guide.
I would miss modern conveniences, but I could probably live a good life.
After all, I’m used to having to grind to eke out an existence.
I’d be alive, but it would come at the price of having to leave James behind to rot in this dungeon at the mercy of Peter Pan, and if not Peter Pan then in the very least an enraged Prince Frederick.
I already know I can’t do that. Life isn’t worth it if I abandon James in order to live it.
I take a deep breath and enter the dungeon.