Chapter 6
All of Neverland was below Maggie’s feet.
Her hands naturally curled around Peter’s neck, keeping her locked in place and Sunny was bundled safely in the crook of her stomach.
She peered over the side, desperate to get a glance of the magical land she found herself in, but also feeling uneasily sick to her stomach at the same time.
The further they crept over the island, the easier it was for Maggie to adjust to the countless surges of magic around her.
She believed it to be the cause of her flopping stomach.
Maggie could feel it without reaching for it, almost whispering a spell to simply give in to the tempting power.
They were flying over a series of lagoons.
Crystal water that was effortlessly clear and blemish free sparkled within the pools.
Figures swam through the gentle waters and sprang out of the surface, long tails that shone like rainbows spraying a row of droplets through the air.
One of the creatures splashed through the water directly below Maggie, wavy hair falling behind her like a cape made from a raven’s feathers.
She dipped and weaved around the lagoon, continuously leaping out before falling back in.
Her tail was effervescent and sparkling, catching the glimmers of sunlight and letting it decorate the water’s surface with flashes of light.
Maggie’s eyes widened as she caught onto more and more of those tailed women swimming through the lagoons.
Some lazed against stone, tanning their skin and drying their scaly tails.
And when Peter dipped closer, their angelic song reached Maggie’s ears, pulling her towards them for a split second.
Peter curved upwards once more, smirking as Maggie threw her head back, desperate to catch another stolen glimpse at the mythical creatures.
“Were those mermaids?” she asked.
Peter nodded slowly. “Plenty of them.”
“And that way?” Her finger was pointed toward the western shore of the island, where the jagged stone flattened enough to have been manufactured into a seafaring port. A long wooden pier stretched into the ocean and a series of ships were beginning to take dock.
As if he was following her command, Peter dipped his flight in the direction of her point, drawing closer to the shore.
Flags grew more focused the closer they came, a striking black cloth with a white skull painted hauntingly against the center.
Finally, recognition ticked in Maggie’s mind.
She gulped, her grip growing tighter around Peter’s neck.
“Don’t worry, Magpie,” Peter suddenly said, his cool voice catching her off guard. When she met his gaze, there was a simple smile on his lips, a comfortable ease beginning to surround her with a growing warmth. “I’ve got you.”
She looked back towards the port. “Are those pirates?”
“Far too many,” Peter muttered, though he didn’t let go of his smile. “They aren’t all bad, you know.”
Maggie’s brow rose sharply. “Oh, really? Or did the humans get that part of the fairy tale wrong too?”
Now grinning, Peter weaved around the sails of the pirate ships. “Everyone has a part to play on Neverland,” he paused to lean closer to her ear, “even if they are an up-to-no-good pirate.”
Maggie couldn’t stop the laugh from leaving her lips.
“They aren’t all that bad,” he repeated again, obviously pleased by making her laugh.
“Pirate’s Cove isn’t a place for you, though.
” Peter flew up as if climbing the steps of a winding tower, letting the wind curl through Maggie’s hair, before zooming back into the treetops, and heading in the opposite direction.
There weren’t many things that were capable of making Maggie feel like a child again.
It was hard for her to let herself feel so free that childhood could be accessible, even as a full-grown adult.
The moments she did manage to feel it, though, deserved to be held onto for as long as possible.
In that moment, as they skimmed over tall trees and began to sink within them, Maggie was determined to soak up all of Neverland that she could, fully knowing that she intended on giving it all away once she left.
A flash of her life that was left behind struck her: the straw bed at the wench’s tavern, leaning over a cauldron of stew each night, cleaning pots and pans till sores covered her hands.
But then, she remembered Hart’s Crumbs. The warmth of the oven, the chatter of her patrons, the compliments and the success. Waking up far earlier than anyone else in all of Dunhollow to put a series of cinnamon rolls in the oven. Bringing dawn to the entire town, with a hint of cinnamon.
Was there even a chance to get back to that?
It doesn’t matter.
Maggie’s dream rested on the tip of her tongue.
She had it in her hands, and she had no intentions of seeing it gone another time.
Working in Neverland’s kitchen as its sole cook wasn’t how she planned on spending the rest of her days.
Though she still clutched onto Peter’s shirt, Maggie desperately kept the image of Hart’s Crumbs in the back of her mind, for fear of forgetting what mattered the most.
A blur of light came across her vision. She looked to her right, where the treetops were beginning to appear.
Bright flashes of sparkling color came from the shadows beneath the treetops before dancing in a different direction.
Maggie tried to follow them but grew dizzy within seconds. She shook her head.
“What are those little lights, Peter?”
He chuckled. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what fairies are, Magpie!”
“Since when did I say you could call me Magpie?”
“Never,” Peter mused, his lip twitching. “But you are like a little Magpie, aren’t you?” He eyed her deeply. “Dark hair, porcelain skin. Curved and elegant. A Magpie.”
Maggie watched him with wide eyes.
Jerking his head away, Peter motioned to the lights. “Did you see the fairies? They tend to live in the treetops, or in bushes, or just about anywhere.”
She let her eyes hold onto the flickering lights, not wanting to focus on the words Peter dared to speak.
To see so much in one sitting was almost overwhelming.
Everything she never imagined possible was right in front of her, just out of arm's reach. All things magic were outlawed in the human world. There wouldn’t be a hint of fairies, not if they wanted to remain safe.
But in Neverland, magic was at the forefront of everyone’s minds.
They wielded it effortlessly, like an old friend, like an aged parent.
Maggie found herself leaning towards jealousy for a moment, but paused, pulling herself out of her mind before she spiraled far too deep.
In the center of the woods, a tall tree house stood out rather plainly.
Lights were strung from the elongated branches, and there was a large house built around it.
The leaves were as wide as a roof, far larger than anything Maggie had ever seen.
A golden light, like that of a rumbling hearth, came from the very center of the tree house, as if all the warmth of Neverland came from that very spot, and not the sky above.
Peter began to descend to a balcony upon the tree house.
When his feet touched the wood, Maggie expected to have been set down, but his grip remained strong around her, and he did not stop moving.
He left the balcony almost instantly, already striding into the house.
It smelt of the very forest itself, but not in a musty way at all.
It was earthy and warm, mellow like the dirt but strong with a gust of wind.
Maggie found her nerves settling as the scent fell over her, as if it was meant to put her at ease.
The tree house was a spectacle itself. Hundreds of rooms and hallways were in every direction, following the branch of the tree and holding more things than Maggie could count.
Cases of armor sat at some corners, while a few bookcases adorned the others.
Portraits hung from the walls, and a series of helmets appeared on another.
Anything and everything, Maggie realized, was within Neverland’s tree house.
Peter never faltered in his step as he found a spiral staircase.
The closer he came to it, the more a muffled sound of a group of voices reached Maggie.
There were throngs of laughter and shouts, echoing through the narrow staircase as Peter carefully carried Maggie all the way down.
Peter grinned as he came to the bottom of the stairs. “Lost Boys!”
Shouts and whoops echoed through the wide room as Peter gently set Maggie on her feet. With Sunny like a bundle of bread in her arms, Maggie clung to the feline as much as she could, feeling like a scared child in front of the four tall men in front of her.
The group seemed to be in the midst of a game.
A series of empty bottles lined the floors, some residual amber colored liquid staining the carpet and sticking to their bare feet.
Instantly, the sour and pungent scent of liquor reached Maggie’s nostrils, almost burning the hairs from how strong it was.
She retracted slightly, bunching up her nose and earning a teasing laugh out of Peter.
He shook his head and ran forward, going to seamlessly join his friends in their rowdy game.
The men threw pillows and vases across the room at each other, carefully jumping to and from different pieces of furniture.
They avoided touching the floor as much as possible – as if it was on fire, Maggie soon found out.
One of them accidently slipped, his toe dragging against the rugs.
The rest of the party let out a resounding hiss, making the sound so loud that Maggie almost believed he managed to sear his skin off.
After a few more shouts and cheers, Peter gestured for the Lost Boys to leave their game, and approach Maggie.
She clutched onto Sunny tighter as they approached, noticing immediately how they all towered over her, their long shadows falling across her ominously.
But as they drew closer, Maggie quickly realized how they were all quite the opposite of ‘frightening.’
“Twitch, Dash, Scamp, and Dusty,” Peter introduced each of the Lost Boys in the order they were standing.
After their names were called, the men waved politely towards Maggie, eyeing her as curiously as she wanted to watch them.
“This is…this is…” He paused and leaned closer to her.
“I don’t think I ever caught your full name. ”
She breathed a sigh. “Maggie Hart.”
Peter grinned. “Maggie Hart, these are the Lost Boys.”
“Honestly,” Twitch said as he dragged a hand through his hair, pulling long brown strands out of his face, “I didn’t think you’d be able to do it. Kidnap a cook, I mean.”
Peter frowned. “Why not?”
“Breaking the rules isn’t entirely your thing,” Twitch teased with a smirk.
“Welcome to Neverland,” Dusty, who stood the furthest away from the rest of the Lost Boys, called out to Maggie. “Because I’m sure none of these other guys will say it.”
Maggie felt herself smiling. Dusty’s delicately red hair with sharp emerald color eyes gave him a bright look, though he looked rather disheartened.
She couldn’t quite pinpoint his expression, but she could tell for sure that it wasn’t one bred from pleasure or happiness.
Nevertheless, he gave her a polite smile.
The smallest out of them all, Scamp, pulled his long locks into a tail at the back of his head. “Now that the introductions are in order,” he said, “why don’t we get back to the real business at hand?” He gestured towards their game.
“Just so you can fall in all the lava again?” The final Lost Boy, Dash, snatched onto Scamp by the shoulders, effortlessly pulling his back against his chest and rubbing a fist through his hair.
Blonde locks fell down Dash’s shoulders charmingly as he teased his companion, finally letting him go after a moment or two.
There was something faintly comforting about the group of guys.
As if they had some sort of familiarity Maggie just couldn’t quite pin down.
She watched them interact and found herself grinning along with them, forced to turn her face away to wipe it off before they could see her pleasure.
The last thing she needed was for them to get the wrong idea, and not let her leave at the end of it.
Even though they were all a bit immature, they didn’t seem like bad people at all.
Peter waved a hand towards Maggie. “So,” he drawled, “Do you all approve of Neverland’s new official chef?”
“Hey, now,” Maggie popped up immediately, almost surprising herself. “I never agreed to anything yet.”
The King of Neverland looked away, his disappointment hardly disguised by something else. With a growing frown, he kept himself away from Maggie’s prying gaze. For a moment, regret twinged at her.
“Well, don’t fret, Peter,” Dash suddenly said, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “She’ll probably change her mind after seeing the kitchen.”
Maggie’s head snapped towards him, the word popping out before she had the chance to think. “Kitchen?”
Dash grinned. “See that? Intrigued already.”
Unable to call his bluff, Maggie ignored Peter’s growing excitement and followed after them.