Chapter 13
Chapter
Thirteen
“She is quite a common fairy,” Peter explained apologetically.
Ifight the urge to scoot away from her. After all, she’s as tall as I am while I’m sitting down. Then again, there’s something wild about her. Like a feral cat—so cute until it gets its claws and fangs into you. And it’s not even the cat’s fault. It’s just their nature. Like hers. Scary.
“If you’re finished feeling sorry for yourself, we need to talk.” She hovers off the floor, her beautiful wings flapping lazily.
“Does Peter know I’m here?”
She holds her hand up and presses her fingers together in a ‘shut your mouth’ motion. “When I said ‘we need to talk’ I meant I’m going to talk and you are going to listen.”
“Rude.”
Her eyes flash, and she hovers closer. “Do you have any idea the mess you’re in?”
“No,” I snap back. “No one will tell me the truth, so no, I don’t.”
“The truth is you belong to this island, and all you’ve done since you’ve gotten here is fuck up.
So let me help you out. In three nights’ time, you are going to walk out of here and through the woods.
That way.” She points. “Geo will be waiting for you the night before the full moon. I’ve given him enough fairy dust to take you back to the mainland.
When you get there, you will hide. Understand? ”
“You mean Peter wants me—”
“Do I look like Peter to you?” She puts her hands on her hips.
“No, he’s prettier.”
Her nose wrinkles, the scar wrinkling along with it. “You will stay far away from Peter. He is mine. Not yours.”
“This jealousy thing you’ve got going on isn’t healthy. You know that, right?” I don’t know why I’m taunting the violent fairy. I guess I’m out of fucks to give at this point.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. As usual.” She floats backwards.
“Last time I took your advice, I got all sorts of messed up. So, thank you for stopping by, but no, I will absolutely not be walking into the deep, dark woods to supposedly meet a Lost Boy who will supposedly take me back to the mainland.”
She drops and stamps her foot on the floor. “Yes, you will.”
“Nope.” I scoot back into the bed and yank the covers over me. “Now I’m tired. You can see yourself out.”
“Get up!” Her voice rises, the melodic sound of it still marred. A broken bell.
“No.” I pull the blanket over my head, fully aware she might knife me through it. I don’t care. I’m done negotiating with creatures who want to do me harm. I need to wise up. I need to be brave for once. Standing up to a pixie seems like a good start.
“I’m trying to help you.” She yanks at the edge of the blanket.
I keep it firmly over my head. “No, you aren’t.
You’re trying to trick me. Just like Hook.
Just like Peter. I know you all have your own bullshit motivations that are way bigger than I am.
They’ve been going on for centuries or more, and I just stepped into it like a big old pile of bullshit. So, no. You can go.”
“You really are a stupid bitch,” she screeches, her voice a needle in my ear.
“I guess that makes two of us.” I roll over, turning my back on her. God, it feels good telling her off. Like really good.
She flits around to the other side of bed, her jingling sound perilously close to my face. “Stop behaving like this. Wendy would never act this way.”
“I’m not Wendy.”
The bed shifts a little, like a cat has jumped up to steal warmth for a short while.
“You’re not sleeping with me.”
“Don’t be an idiot.” She finally manages to yank the blanket away from my face.
“I think you already made it clear I’m an idiot.”
“You are.” She nods. “You are the biggest dummy I could’ve imagined.”
My hands itch to go around her perfect throat. “Why do you hate me?”
“Because you’ll be the death of me,” she retorts.
I roll my eyes. “Because I’ll steal Peter from you?”
She gives me a look that says I’m being stupid again.
“You never should’ve come here. Everything is so much more …
complicated now. You have to leave. This way is safe.
Geo will take you back home. You can hide for a while and then go back to school or do whatever it is humans like you do.
I don’t care. Just as long as you aren’t here any longer. ”
“Great sales pitch. Really. I think you missed your calling.”
She bares her teeth, two little fangs making an appearance. “I hate you, but I’m trying to help you.”
“Sure you are.” I make a pfft noise. “Look, if you want me to go traipsing through the scary woods, you’ll need to give me something.”
“A deal?” Her eyes flash.
“No.” I shake my head. “Not a deal. Nothing transactional. I just want you to tell me the truth. I think you know everything about this island, maybe things even Peter and Hook don’t.”
“I do.” She gives me a prideful grin. “I know lots of secrets.”
“Great. Now share them.”
She shakes her head. “Not for free.”
“I told you. No transactions.” I glare up at her.
She frowns, irritation warring with compromise. “Fine. You can ask me three questions. No more. If I answer them, will you at least consider my offer to leave Neverland?”
It feels like she just laid out a treasure chest in front of me, one that’s full of pirate gold and priceless relics. Three straight answers? In Neverland? Unheard of! Still, I can’t seem too eager.
“I don’t know.” I pull the blanket up higher. “I still can’t trust you.”
“Three answers, and—” She takes a deep breath “—I promise to tell you the truth.”
A little sizzle of gold thread ignites between us and dies away.
“What was that?”
“Is that one of your questions?”
“No!”
“Then you don’t get an answer.” She wiggles until she’s sitting beside me, her feet hanging off the bed. “Now, three questions. Stop pretending you won’t ask them. I have things to do that don’t involve babysitting a foolish mainlander.”
I have so many, but I can work with three. Three should give me enough information to stop bumbling around like a newborn calf.
“Okay, first question. Do you know—wait!” I was going to ask ‘do you know what the Lost Boys are?’ but that could lead to a yes or no answer. That’s not going to work.
She cuts her eyes at me. “Change your mind?”
“Give me a minute.”
She leans back against me, absolutely no respect for personal space.
Her wings are surprisingly warm. I remember when my mother told me the Neverland story, and oh how I wished I could be friends with Tinker Bell, the sweet fairy with the golden hair.
That daydream is gone, but there’s still a tiny wisp of nostalgia for it twirling around inside me.
I take a deep breath and go for it. “What are the Lost Boys?”
“The souls of dead children.”
What the fuuuuuuuck? I choke on my own spit and have to sit up sputtering. “What? No! Coy was alive.”
“Coy died a long, long time ago when he was still a little boy. To sickness or injury or who knows what. Peter brought his soul to Neverland and kept him here.”
“Like purgatory?”
“Is that your second question?” She readjusts so she’s leaning on me again.
“No!”
If she’s telling the truth, then Hook was telling the truth.
So was Widow. Guilt coats me like a sticky film when I remember how I’d treated Widow earlier.
I was a real dick. Still, it’s hard for me to accept.
Coy was alive to me. He was warm and friendly.
But if Tinker Bell is to be believed, it was his soul.
And she didn’t say he was trapped here, but putting everything together—maybe that’s exactly what he was. Trapped in Neverland.
Hang on. Am I dead too? I open my mouth to ask that, then snap it closed again. I won’t waste a question on my existential crisis.
I need to focus on this next question. There are so many ways to ask it that will lead to a shit answer from the clever fairy who’s currently using me like a piece of furniture.
“What does it mean that I am Peter’s boon?” I wince, afraid she’s going to wriggle out of it.
“It means he made a wish to the island, and the island gave you to him as an answer to the wish.”
“What did he wish for—wait! That’s not my third question.” I put my finger to her lips, and she smacks it away.
This is what I was worried about—her answer only gave me another question. Ugh.
One more question. I have to pick a good one. At least, I should. But there’s something that’s been bothering me bigtime. The worst thing is, I think I already know the answer, but I have to be sure.
“Why did Peter want me to tell stories?”
She rolls her eyes. “You really are a dumdum.”
“That’s your answer?”
“No, but it’s perfectly obvious why—he needed you to—”
Sally lands on my windowsill and makes a loud squawk.
Tinkerbell jumps straight up to the ceiling over the bed, her gaze on the bird as she hisses.
“What the—”
Sally flies into the room right for Tinker Bell who flashes into the little orb and flies straight out the window. Sally follows. I run to the sill and watch as Tinker Bell and Sally disappear through the trees.
When I look down, plenty of pirates are staring up at me from their spots around the bonfire. All except Bill Jukes, who is singing as loud as he possibly can to a mermaid statue in front of one of the cottages.
I pull my window closed. If Tinker Bell comes back, I have no doubt she’ll figure out how to get in.
But I doubt she will. She already gave me my answers.
The last one wasn’t quite as clear, but I think I’ve known the truth of it ever since I saw my reflection here.
Maybe even before when I kept getting those odd headaches and horrible dreams.
Peter brought me here to tell him and his Lost Boys stories.
I thought it was sweet, and if I’m being honest, I was flattered.
I love stories. I love telling stories. I live in my head more than anywhere else.
Which is scary, given my past, but it’s also who I am.
Peter somehow knew that, and he brought me here to tell my stories to him.
What did Clytemnestra say? That I was giving away my magic for free?
If stories are magic—and I’ve always believed that’s true—then my stories are what erased the crow’s feet from Peter’s face and slapped them onto mine.
My stories are what fed him, made him younger, kept all of them going while I faded away.
And he knew. The whole time he knew what he was doing to me.
Did Coy know? I swallow hard and think back to some of the looks he gave me.
In hindsight, it’s perfectly clear. Guilt.
He felt guilt. He knew. Yet he didn’t stop it.
I sit heavily on the bed and glance up at the window, half expecting a Yeti or some other fantastical creature to come crashing through. But there’s nothing, no one. Just Bill Jukes singing in a language I don’t know and the crackling of the bonfire.
Lying down, I let myself mourn for the Peter I thought I knew.
God, I’ve been so completely clueless. About him, about Hook.
I can’t afford to be that way any longer.
I don’t know how to burn off my naivety, but I think hearing the truth from Tinker Bell was the first step.
She wants Peter for herself? She can have him.
I’m done with him. I won’t be used by anyone.
I close my eyes, letting my mind drift. My resolve grows even as I begin to fall asleep.
I’m not going to be a soft target anymore.
I’m going to get strong, learn from Widow and Bill, and then I’m going to make a break for the mainland on my own terms. Of course, I have no idea how to get there.
Then again, there’s a Lost Boy waiting in the woods with a pouch full of fairy dust. If I can get to Geo and somehow snatch it from him, I’ll be one step closer to getting out of this mess.
I’m not waiting for anyone to save me. This time, I’m going to save myself.