Chapter 12 #3
“Let’s get back to the cave before you catch a cold.
” He takes my hand, and we rise from the ground, his pixie dust in full supply as we move quickly and hew close to the treetops.
The lightning seems to have stopped, but the rain still pounds, and without the trees to cushion it, the drops seem to seep through to my bones.
I shiver as we fly and give a sigh of relief when he finally starts steering us down.
We enter the cave from the grove of trees, and Peter hurries me past the kitchen where the others are gathered and into a room I’ve never seen before.
It’s the most angular of them all, as if someone took time to perfect the edges and make it seem like a real room in a real house, not a rough-hewn cavern or a tunnel.
“Here.” He sits me down in a threadbare chair as he bends over a blackened fireplace that’s maybe a quarter of the size of the one in the Guardian’s round house.
Water runs down his strong back and puddles on the floor as he strikes the flint and gets a small fire started.
Once he’s satisfied it’ll stay lit, he adds a few logs on top and sits across from me in yet another threadbare, mismatched chair.
“You’ll warm up soon.” He looks me up and down. “They didn’t hurt you?”
“No.” I don’t mention the bruises I’m certain are going to appear on my stomach from the rough ride on Bunk’s shoulder. “They fed me and helped me warm u-u-up.” As I say it, my teeth chatter again.
He hurries to my chair and pushes me closer to the fledgling fire.
“I’m okay.” I lean forward as the first wisps of heat begin to enter the room.
Peter yells down the hall. “Tootles, bring blankets!”
His voice echoes away down the tunnel as I turn and look at the rest of the room. It’s bare except for a wide wooden table in the middle with what looks like a map of Neverland on top.
“I thought the i-i-island was always changing?” I jut my chin toward the map.
“It is, but there are some constants. The mermaid grotto, for one. The Neverian camp—”
“They call themselves Guardians.”
He glowers. “They can call themselves coconuts for all I care as long as they don’t touch you again.”
“Why did you think they’d hurt me? And why did you call me your boon?”
“They kidnapped you from Coy. That was reason enough to suspect—”
Guilt punches me in the gut. “Oh my god, Coy! Is he okay?”
“He is, though I should’ve killed him when I realized he took you with him to town. He disobeyed me.”
I swallow hard, a trickle of fear rolling down my spine right along with the water. But Peter doesn’t really mean he’d kill him. Just a figure of speech.
“Is he all right, though?”
“They’re fine.” He waves a hand. “They failed me, but they’re fine. For now.” He returns to the chair across from me and sits. His golden skin is already drying, his hair windswept and his eyes just as bright as always.
“It’s not their fault. I tricked Tootles into taking me with him, and then I pressured Coy to go along with it.”
“It is their fault.” There’s a hard edge to his voice. “If something had happened to you …” He scrubs a hand down his face.
“Nothing happened.”
“Nothing?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Nothing bad,” I amend.
Tootles almost falls through the door, his arms full of tattered blankets. “I got all I could carry.”
“About damn time.” Peter stands and starts making a little pallet on the floor in front of the fire. “Moira, strip and get under here.”
I give him the look he deserves.
Tootles turns a tomato shade of red.
“It’s to get you warm.” Peter fusses a little more until he’s made a fine nest. “Come on.”
“I’m not stripping in front of you.”
He stands and puts his hands on his hips, a deep sigh whooshing out of him. “Moira—”
“I’ll strip once you’re gone.” I mimic his pose, hands on hips. “Not before.”
He glances around as if he might find a Guardian lurking on the stone wall.
“I’m the only one here. Now go. I’m safe.” I don’t mention that I want to take a good look at the map.
He doesn’t move, his eyes holding mine.
I’m not backing down. I don’t care how hard he and his muscles stare at me.
“Fine. Just stay here, all right? Don’t wander off.” He backs to the doorway.
“Wait.”
His eyes light. “Change your mind?” He moves toward me again.
“No.” I put my hand up. “Not on that. I just want to know why you referred to me as your ‘boon’. What did that mean?”
He stops his advance. “Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you.” I cross my arms over my chest and fight off another shiver. “Tell me the truth.”
“It’s just a word.” His eyes seem to shutter, and he backs away more quickly this time. “It means a blessing.”
“I know what it means.”
“All right, then you know it isn’t a bad thing. Don’t worry about it.” He turns to leave. “Get warm. We’ll come by in a little while for a story, all right? I’ll bring neverberries.” He strides away, out of my view.
I strip quickly and crawl between the blankets, then lay out my clothes beside me to dry. The Guardians didn’t tell me anything, didn’t give me any idea of what they were thinking or why they truly wanted to speak to me.
I’m in the same place I was before they took me, so why am I now left with even more questions?