The Navigator

by Sky, Erin Michelle; Brown, Steven;

  Hook ran his good left hand through his hair, which he had left loose after their return. “Then what do you propose?”

  “We must raise our own army,” Tigerlilja replied. “We must rally the peoples of Neverland and prepare for war. Our clan will help you, but we’re done fighting in the air. We’ll lead the ground troops. I won’t have my people falling out of the sky before they can even draw a weapon. If we die, we die fighting, knowing Valhalla awaits. There are plenty of everlost to man your ships, and they are not the only flying peoples of Neverland.”

  “Are there plenty?” Hook demanded. “Ground troops aren’t enough. We’ll need far more of a fleet than we have now if we want to stand any chance, and those ships need captains. Even if we can cobble together enough sailors to crew them, who will lead them? We need competent captains—”

  But Tigerlilja interrupted him. “Then stop being so stubborn and use what you have! This woman standing before you just salvaged a mission by stealing a ship and flying it to safety. She has proven herself more than competent!”

  “She’s almost as good a captain as I am,” Peter chimed in. It was the first he’d spoken throughout the entire meeting, a wonder in itself, and all eyes turned to him. “She’s better than you,” he added, speaking directly to Hook.

  Hook rolled his eyes, but then he turned back to Wendy, standing there in her blue officer’s jacket, earnestly waiting for his reply.

  “It just isn’t done,” he told them. “It’s not permitted in the Royal Navy.” But even as he said it, he could feel his conviction crumbling. She had just stolen a ship, in the kind of bold move that had earned him his own promotions within the ranks of the Royal Navy. And the Fourteenth Platoon followed her without hesitation.

  “You’re not in England anymore,” Tigerlilja said gently, “and she is one of the bravest among you. I know Neverland would be proud to have her. Surely England would be just as proud of its own subjects.”

  “Sir,” Charlie added, “it has been the greatest honor of my life to serve under your command. I have always followed your orders, and I appreciate everything you have done for me. I trust your judgment in this, as I do in all things. I only ask that you take a moment and consider what is truly best for England.”

  Hook took another deep breath.

  “It is a time of direst need,” he finally said.

  A whirlwind of butterflies fluttered in Wendy’s stomach.

  “It will be a wartime commission that stands only here, in Neverland,” Hook told her, “and only for the duration of the battle that lies ahead. I can’t do more than that. The admirals would never allow it.”

  But then his voice softened.

  “Still,” he continued, “you are, in fact, the best choice. And so, Miss Darling, if you will accept the promotion, will you solemnly swear your allegiance to the crown, to serve the interests of the Kingdom of Britain honorably and faithfully, as the captain of the Jolly Roger?”

  he captain’s quarters of the Jolly Roger were not really much larger than the room Wendy had slept in at Dover Castle, but they felt opulent by comparison. Where her repurposed servant’s room had been stark and unfurnished, her new accommodations included a captain’s desk and table; a bed with several layers of quilts and blankets (that could be added or removed, of course, according to the weather); an actual dresser (complete with latching drawers so they wouldn’t come open in heavy seas); and a hutch above the desk, with cabinets for books and tiny latching compartments to hold whatever knickknacks she might desire.

  But the very best thing about it was the window.

  The captain’s quarters were located at the stern of the ship and at the very top level of the living quarters, just below the main deck, which allowed for an entire bank of windows to span the outer bulkhead, with a long, padded bench just below and more cabinets beneath. It was the most perfect window seat Wendy could have imagined, and she was sitting there now, taking a moment to enjoy the view, on her very first day as its new owner.

  (Or was it her very first night? Time truly was confusing in Neverland.)

  She had taken the liberty of removing one of the cabinet doors above the desk and installing a curtain in its place so that Charming would be comfortable in his new quarters. When she had begun to pack her trunk, Charming had realized her intention, jingling in concern until she had told him where she was going and had assured him that he could come with her. Apparently, he now lived wherever she did, as did Nana, of course, who was currently occupying about two-thirds of the window seat.

  “Who do you think they’ll assign to us, Nana?” Wendy said, musing aloud while stroking the dog’s head. “Most of the Fourteenth, I expect, since they already know me. They might have to give John his own ship, though. He doesn’t know much about sailing, but we’re short on officers. At least we should have Michael with us. And Reginald.”

  (Without consciously realizing it, Wendy had finally stopped thinking of Reginald as poor Reginald now that he had survived an entire everlost mission without dying even once.)

  “We’ll need more of a crew than that, though. The Fourteenth just isn’t large enough. Tigerlilja mentioned the peoples of Neverland, as though there are other sorts we haven’t met yet. I wonder what they’ll be like?”

  Nana thought they would be exactly the same as all the others because everything in Neverland smelled like green, and every dog knows that scent is the only useful way to distinguish anyone from anybody else.

  “All I know for sure is that I’ll be glad to have anyone and everyone who wants to help. I was even thinking of trying to talk to the imps,” Wendy continued. “Mortimer was using them as his crew, so clearly they’re able. But they might still be loyal to him. And I’m not sure how I feel about the one who threatens everyone all the time.”

  Wendy paused for a moment.

  “Come to think of it, the stealing could be a real problem, too. What do you think?”

  Nana had no opinion on the subject, but it didn’t matter because there was a knock on the door in that exact moment.

  “Oh!” Wendy said excitedly. “A visitor!”

  She extracted herself from Nana’s head, which had been resting on her leg, and she scrambled off the bench. She opened the door to discover an everlost she did not remember ever seeing before. He had a sort of gentle melancholy about him, and a sweet but humble smile. Wendy liked him immediately.

  “Hello,” she said. “May I help you?”

  “Aye, Captain,” he said. Wendy smiled. She liked the sound of that very much. “My name is Tootles. I’m to be assigned to you.”

  “Tootles! Wonderful! I believe you might be the first official crewman Hook’s sent me. Has he finished the rosters, then?”

  “Oh, no, sir. Or rather, I don’t know about the rosters. It wasn’t Hook that sent me. It was Peter.”

  “Peter?” That surprised her. She hadn’t known Peter intended to send her anyone from his own crew.

  “Aye, sir,” Tootles confirmed. “Peter said I needed to serve on the Jolly Roger, sir. With you as my captain, from here on out. Assuming you’ll have me.”

  “Well, that’s wonderful, Tootles! I’m glad to have you aboard. Do you have a specialty I should be aware of?”

  “Aye, sir. In a manner of speaking, I do. I think Peter sent me here because of it. To keep you safe, sir. But you might not like it.”

  Tootles rubbed his shirt nervously between his fingertips, and Wendy couldn’t help but smile again.

  “And why is that?” she asked him.

  “Because nothing ever happens when I’m around. I’ve been in fewer adventures than any of them, because the big things constantly happen just when I’ve stepped round the corner, so to speak. Everything will be quiet, I’ll take the opportunity of going off to gather a few sticks for firewood or some such, and when I get back, the others are already sweeping up the blood. It happens to me all the time. I’m not the least brave of the crew, sir, but I’m the most unfortunate by far,
at least when it comes to adventures.”

  Wendy couldn’t help but chuckle. “Let me get this straight,” she said. “Peter sent you because you always miss their adventures, and he thinks that as long as you’re close by, nothing dangerous will happen.”

  “Aye, sir,” Tootles said sadly. “Which is why I told him I didn’t think you’d want me, even though I promised I’d ask.”

  “Well, you’re wrong about that, you know. I’m extremely glad to have you. Welcome aboard!”

  “Oh, do you mean it, sir? Thank you, sir! Peter’s crew, they sent me away a lot, on account of they wanted things to happen. I’m telling you, sir, nothing ever happens when I’m around.”

  “You know, I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you,” Wendy told him.

  “Aye, sir?” he asked, starting to sound a bit hopeful.

  “Aye, I wouldn’t. Tootles, I have a feeling your luck is about to change.”

  More Tales of the Wendy!

  We hope you enjoyed The Navigator! The series continues in Tales of the Wendy, Book 3!

  For the latest news and events from Erin Michelle Sky and Steven Brown, visit DragonAuthors.com. For new releases and special offers, sign up here!

  For even more from the series, including behind-the-scenes commentary, cover sketches, occasional book swag, and sneak peeks at future books, visit the VIP site at patreon.com/DragonAuthors.

  But wait! Who is Peter Pan, and why is he the way he is? Find out in Tigerlilja, a companion novella from the Tales of the Wendy series!

  One, cursed by accident.

  The other, cursed by destiny.

  But losing everything isn’t always the end.

  Sometimes, it’s just the beginning.

  Also by Erin Michelle Sky and Steven Brown: The Intuitives.

  Six unusual teens.

  Ancient powers unleashed.

  One strange summer to solve a mystery ...

  before history catches up to them.

  About the Authors

  As a child, Erin fell in love with llamas and with the books of Anne McCaffrey, whose Dragonriders of Pern series inspired her to become a writer. When she finally met Anne McCaffrey at a fantasy convention some two decades later, she wept uncontrollably throughout the entire affair. She does significantly better with llamas.

  Steven spent his childhood reading anything he could get his hands on, sharing his favorite stories with his younger brothers and then acting them out, especially if this required sword fighting on horseback. When they ran out of books, he wrote his own, including his brothers as the main characters by sketching original illustrations on magazine clippings.

  Together, they are known as Dragon Authors, writing science fiction and fantasy for teens and adults. You can find them online at dragonauthors.com.

  Acknowledgments

  If you read the acknowledgments in The Wendy, you'll know this whole series began as a Patreon experiment. To the patrons who have been with us from the beginning, you made this entire series happen. Literally. And to our newest patrons, welcome aboard.

  We can't thank you all enough for your support and encouragement over the last three years.

  To Dwayne “@ThatDwayne” Melancon, we can't wait to write your character into the story, whoever—or whatever—it may be. Thank you for your extreme generosity and faith in us.

  To Rae McManus and Steff Pasciuti, your perseverence is inspiring. Thank you for your unflagging patronage and for providing kind words, guidance, and suggestions whenever we need them.

  To Kelly Peterson at INscribe Digital. Thank you for jumping in and believing in us right from the get-go. You are galaxies beyond what we ever expected.

  To our families, for putting up with the late nights, tight schedules, and occasionally frayed nerves of the craft, we love you all.

  To the book bloggers who have gathered readers and shouted our books to the rooftops, you are profoundly dedicated souls and deserve all the swag in the world.

  To Stephanie Plotkin, author of TeacherofYA's Book Blog, we will never forget you. Thank you for continuing to watch over our journey.

  As the Tales of the Wendy series moves deeper into the fantasy realm, you might think the intense historical research would finally fall away. We certainly thought it might, but we were wrong.

  Is "burning daylight" a phrase Hook might have used in 1790? (It is.) Had germ theory made it into medicine? (It had not.) How would Thomas, as a Royal Society Fellow, have treated a gunshot wound? (With a mixture of egg yolks, rose oil, and turpentine.)

  We offer our thanks once again to the dedicated historians, curators, and librarians who work tirelessly to preserve the past, helping us immerse ourselves so thoroughly in Wendy's world.

  Finally, to Donna Alvis and all the librarians who have believed in our books and helped us to spread the word by stocking and sharing them with the reading public, we are eternally grateful for your support.