Chapter 13 #2
“What?” I can’t seem to put the cup down. It’s barely bigger than an espresso cup, and I would kill for more, but this will have to be enough.
“Nothing.” They all go back to their breakfasts as I enjoy each sip.
It doesn’t take long for me to finish it, and I have no shame about licking the bottom of the cup to make sure I get every last bit.
Closing my eyes, I let it hit my stomach and wait for it to give me god-like powers.
Well, the powers don’t come, but my headache does lessen a bit.
“Now that I’m human again.” I smile and cradle my tiny, now-empty cup against my chest. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s not anything for you to worry about.” Peter gives Curly a look and starts cutting up his invisi-waffles.
“It’s something.” I down a few more neverberries. “Spill.”
The men remain mum, Peter chewing slowly.
“Fine, if nothing’s wrong, I think I’ll go for a little stroll in the forest. Stretch my legs. No swimming, of course, swimming is completely out of the picture for me.” I shiver at the memory of being dragged under.
I rise and grab a handful of berries before heading out the nearest door. The cave is still a maze for me, but I’ve figured out that if I follow the sound of the waterfall, I can generally find my way around.
“Wait.” Peter catches up with me almost instantly. “You can’t go outside. Not right now.”
“Oh? Why is that? Is something wrong?” I chew a few more neverberries and keep striding toward the sound of water.
“Listen, it’s not safe in the woods.”
“Why? The Guardians didn’t hurt me. If I run across them again, I’ll be fine.” I speed my pace past the waterfall room and toward the trees that lead up to the forest floor, dappled moonlight somehow making it down through crags and openings high above.
“Why can’t you just trust me?”
“Why can’t you just tell me?” I whirl on him. “There are a million things I need to know. Like what’s the plan to take care of Hook? When do I get to go back home? What’s the real connection the Darling women have to this island? I feel like you’re keeping things from me.”
His brows draw together. “Is this because of Tiger Lily? What did she tell you?”
“What? No. She didn’t tell me anything. She just asked about you, but I couldn’t tell her much because you don’t tell me much.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “If I’m keeping things from you, it’s for your own protection.”
I laugh, the sound harsh against the stone walls. “I don’t need your protection, Peter. I’ve taken care of myself for most of my life, and I intend to keep doing it until I die. You don’t have to shield me from anything, so you may as well tell me what you and Curly were whispering about.”
He regards me, his eyes searching mine. “I don’t remember Wendy being so standoffish.”
“I’m not Wendy!” I throw my hands up. “I’ve gone along with you, okay?
You kidnapped me from my dorm room and threw me into this world where everything’s way off.
I’m taking it in stride, I think, but I need to know more.
What’s the plan? How can we save the island so I can get back to where I belong? ”
“You don’t think you belong here?” he asks quietly.
“As the only ‘lost girl’?” I step to him, irritation making me bold. “What kind of bullshit is that, anyway? No lost girls allowed, only boys? What do you have against women?”
“Nothing.” He shrugs.
“Then why aren’t there any here?”
“It’s not up to me.”
“What’s not up to you?”
He looks away, focusing on the waterfall. “The Lost Boys all made the decision to come to me. They are the ones who still believe in magic, who think happy endings are around every corner, who want more than the mainland could ever give them.”
It hits me then, why they’re all boys. I should’ve realized it sooner, way back when my mother first told me the tales of boys who never grow old and live a life of adventure.
Of course Neverland is only for boys. Girls have to grow up too fast. We’ve always been that way.
Too much, too soon. Boys coming at us even before our bodies hit puberty, men stealing away our futures through violence and force.
Girls don’t come to Neverland, because the magic is gone from their lives far too quickly, snuffed out by the world.
A girl child untouched by fear and worry—she must be quite rare, impossible for Peter to find and bring to Neverland.
Only Wendy, perhaps, fit that mold. I don’t.
I may be able to create fantasy worlds in my mind, but I know the grim truth of what the world is like. I’ve known it for quite a long time.
Those dark thoughts put a chill on my anger, and I’m left standing in silence as Peter finally returns his gaze to mine. “The pirates are hunting a neverbear.”
I stare at him. “Come again?”
“That’s why you should stay in the cave. The pirates are trying to find the last neverbear. They’re all over the forest, and I have Lost Boys on the lookout to pick them off.”
“The last one?” I don’t like the sound of that.
“They’ve hunted the others to extinction. This one is the oldest and biggest on the entire island.”
“How big are we talking?”
“The ground shakes when it passes by, and if it’s ever right overhead—” He points up. “—it can knock off some of those spikes. You shouldn’t be in here if it’s up there, and you definitely shouldn’t be out of the cave.”
Holy shit. “Okay, yeah, seems like it’s a good idea if I stay tucked away.”
He smiles, that boyish charm coming off him in waves. “Good.”
“Why couldn’t you just tell me that? What’s with all the secrecy?”
“I didn’t want you to worry.” He shrugs. “I know this whole thing has been hard on you. How could it not? But I need you here, Moira, and I need you safe. As soon as we handle the pirates, we can all sit down and come up with a plan to rid the island of Hook once and for all.”
“Is Hook up there?” I turn my eyes to the shadowy stone overhead.
“Unlikely.” His expression sours. “He prefers to stay on his ship and send out his minions to do his dirty work. He doesn’t care if his men get killed in droves as long as he gets what he wants.”
“He sounds legitimately awful. Worse than anything Wendy passed down in her stories.”
“He is.” His glower deepens even more.
“Hey.” I step closer and peer up at him.
“Hmm?” His expression softens as he looks down at me, his gaze flicking to my lips before returning to my eyes.
“You look …” I reach up and touch his jaw. “Younger in this light.”
He takes my hand and holds it in his. “That’s a good thing since you keep telling us all how old we are.”
That simple touch of my hand in his sends goosebumps racing along my arm and heat doing loop-d-loops low in my belly. But as I look up at him, I realize it’s not just the light. He really is younger.
“Peter, your face …” I drag my fingertips along the smooth skin beside one of his eyes. There were crow’s feet there before. Now they’re gone. “You’re younger. How—”
“Peter, they’re coming—Oh.” Tootles halts as he walks into the cavern.
When his eyes skim over where Peter and I are touching, I pull back.
Peter gives me an amused half smile, then tells Tootles, “I’m coming. Tell everyone to be ready.”
“Will do.” Tootles marches off.
“Stay here. We’ll be back before you know it. Then we can show you more of the island.” He leans closer. “And you can inspect me more thoroughly, if you like.”
My cheeks go hot at the implication. “Be careful.”
“Never.” He grins, then walks past me and disappears into one of the side passages.
I scoot to the edge of the room, away from the stalactites, and try to square what I just saw with how Peter looked when I saw him on the quad.
He’s different. He’s definitely lost years of age, and the more I think about it, so have the others.
Coy—I noticed it yesterday but thought it was just his hair.
They’re all getting younger. But how?
When I get back to the kitchen, it’s cleared out.
Not even the twins are here to make sure I don’t get into trouble.
I stare at the ceiling and wonder what’s happening up there.
But I suppose it might be better that I don’t know.
If the pirates are as vicious as Peter says, there might be bloodshed—a lot of it. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that.
To pass the time, I get busy cleaning up the dishes, though I can’t help but wonder if I’m leaving huge bits of waffle on the plates.
I just do the best I can, then explore the cave, heading down tunnels that are sometimes dead ends.
I find a few new rooms, one of them sparkling with moonlight that’s refracted through crystals overhead.
Water runs down one of the walls and makes a faint pitter patter as it drips on the floor.
Another room is covered in glowing orange lichen, and when I reach out and touch it, it makes my fingertips glow orange, too.
If the cave has all these wonders—not to mention the Nevertree—I can’t imagine what the rest of the island has in store.
I retrace my steps, then try a different part of the cave.
The room where I slept is here, the fire cold and dark.
The map is still spread out on the table, and I give it another look.
This morning, long before anyone came to look in on me, I pored over it, trying to guess the island’s secrets.
But other than treacherous bogs, deep valleys, and miles of coast, the map didn’t give me much guidance.
Still, it’s a good thing to have in mind.
I go past the map room and skim my fingers along what looks like a vein of ruby in the wall. This section seems older, the surfaces more worn and floors smooth from use. The openings are a bit smaller, but I can still pass through with ease.
When I come to an even smaller round wooden door with a gold insignia on it, I realize this must be Tinker Bell’s room.
“No, thank you.” I return to the main tunnel and do a little more exploring before plopping down on a fat toadstool near the waterfall.