Shadow

by Kara Swanson

  The Lost Boys catch sight of us. They pause as Slightly’s gaze darts from Peter to me. Even from this distance I can see the bubbled burn scars that I am responsible for, and my stomach lurches.

  The Lost Boys heft their weapons and run toward us. Peter raises his fists like that’s somehow going to be a match against their blades. I quickly cup my hands, willing them to fill with pixie dust. Additional gold flakes drift from the rest of my skin, and I rise off the ground. I empty the handful of pixie dust all over Peter, which coats his worn hoodie and his curls.

  He tosses me a quirked smile. “I can handle them, Pixie-Girl. Go get help.”

  I nod and drift higher. The Lost Boys are only a few feet away, and despite the way their bodies are tensed, weapons raised, I can’t miss the glint of awe in their expressions as they watch me fly.

  I just hope Peter really can hold them off.

  But Slightly runs forward a few steps, staring up at me, his expression ominous as he shouts. “It won’t be enough, Claire!” I pause, surprised at the rawness in his voice. I draw closer to him.

  “What?” I stare at the freckled features of this Lost Boy who helped keep me sane the weeks I was trapped deep inside Skull Rock.

  “No matter what you do, it won’t be enough,” Slightly repeats. “Paige used knowledge of dark magic she got from the healer they kidnapped and has contorted Connor’s shadow even more. All they need to do is access Neverland’s core, and she wins.”

  “Not if we have anything to say about it!” Peter’s voice is filled with that familiar bravado as he steps in.

  But Slightly just shakes his head. “They’ll be here any minute, and when they come . . .” I notice how haggard and pale the other Lost Boys are. They’re terrified. “They’ll rip apart anything in their way.”

  Peter Pan perches his fists on his hips and faces the Lost Boys. “Let them come.” He lifts off the ground. “You could fight with me, if you wanted . . .”

  But Slightly shakes his head again. “They’ll kill us instantly if they don’t think we tried to stop you.”

  A muscle in Peter’s jaw twitches. “Slightly, it doesn’t have to be this way.”

  The Lost Boy doesn’t answer. He lifts the musket slung over his shoulder.

  Peter glances up at me and mouths Go! I see the sadness in the depths of those green eyes. And the spark of determination. If anyone could get through to these boys, it would be Peter.

  But I can’t stay.

  I pour on as much speed as I can to shoot up into the foliage. Cool air and a few gunshots that zing a little too close for comfort whip past me as I fly through tangles of branches, past thick leaves, and up into the patchwork of treehouses.

  I quickly spot Tiger Lily and Crescent racing down one of the hanging pathways toward the round building where we’d slept. Before they can go in I catch them, pixie dust practically spiraling from my body. The sisters pull up short.

  “Claire?” Lily’s voice is anxious “What’s wrong?”

  “The Lost Boys are here,” I pant, trying to catch my breath. “Down by the star. Peter is trying to fend them off, but I think Connor and Paige are close by too. If Connor gets to the star before we do—”

  Tiger Lily nods quickly and turns to her sister. “Cres, go to the clans’ meeting hall and tell them we need as many warriors as are ready. It will give us a start, and the rest can join as soon as they’re able. I’ll get Asher and the others who are already outfitted, and we’ll go to the star immediately.”

  I suddenly realize someone is missing.

  “Wait! Where’s Tootles?”

  Lily startles. “What? Tootles went to find you and Peter at the star. You didn’t see him?”

  “No.” My whole body goes cold. Please let him be okay.

  Tiger Lily inhales a deep breath. “Well, we’d better get those warriors down there as fast as we can.”

  She’s right. But somehow, there’s a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach saying that no matter how many of us may stand between Paige and that star, it won’t be enough. Connor and his shadow will toss us aside like kindling.

  Neverland

  The Lost Boys look blooming terrified—and I’m not sure I blame them.

  The whole jungle has dropped several degrees as a chilled wind snakes through, rustling the mossy floor and revealing more of those thick, dark veins that claw across the ground.

  “They’re close now,” Slightly says tersely. They start forward again, and I skim back to hover just in front of the star.

  “You know you don’t have to do this.” I pause. They’ve heard all this before. And from the way that the twins both cower behind Slightly, and the way Cubby’s eyes are bloodshot and wide, I know they don’t believe me. They don’t believe I can protect them.

  I didn’t before.

  My heart drops, and my feet thud to the jungle floor. I force myself to look at the Lost Boys. “I’m sorry, lads.” The words are like drops of rain, thick and heavy, building into a storm. “I never should have left. I should have stood up to Connor a long time ago and not abandoned you here.”

  The musket on Slightly’s shoulder slowly drops.

  “You should have taken us with you.” It’s only a whisper, but his pain is vivid.

  My eyes plead with him. “I know. I know. I was blinkin’ selfish.” My voice breaks. “It’s stinkin’ awful, and I am terribly sorry.”

  “But you’re here now.” The new voice comes from somewhere behind me. I recognize it immediately.

  I turn to see Tootles coming toward us from around the star. The Lost Boys seem to relax.

  A familiar nod flashes between the gaunt Lost Boy who hid here for months to the freckled youth who became a leader in my stead. Tootles tosses his gentle smile toward the twins, one now a little taller than the other, but both wearing the same dirty, worn trousers and dark blue jackets. They cautiously stow their knives back in their belts, and Cubby shoves overgrown hair out of his eyes and raises his club in a little wave.

  Tootles is still limping a bit as he joins us, but his gaze is crystal clear. “’Ello, mates. I guess it’s come to this, huh?”

  He looks at Slightly. “I know you’re afraid. Trust me, I know. I hid for months, too scared to even show my head. But this is it. This is the moment where we either stand for our own freedom—or we lose it forever.”

  He puts a hand on Slightly’s shoulder. “You’re not alone this time, mate. And if this selfish gaffer can change”—he jerks a thumb over his shoulder toward me—“then maybe we can be a little braver too. What’d you say?”

  I hold my breath as Tootles and Slightly study each other for a long moment. And then Slightly turns to the twins and Cubby. “Well? What do you—”

  Boom!

  His words are cut off by a massive clap of thunder. Seconds later, the foliage is lit up by a bolt of lightning slashing across the sky. Massive storm clouds roll in faster than should be possible, booming and dark and bringing with them a deep, eerie mist.

  Like a scared rabbit, Slightly launches away from Tootles. “They’re here!” Cubby screeches, and the Lost Boys scatter, racing to hide behind the shelter of larger tree trunks.

  Tootles lopes back, eyes concerned. “Peter, I’m not so sure about this.”

  But he withdraws something from his belt and tosses me a small knife, keeping one for himself. He must have brought the weapons from the village. I lift the knife, testing the weight of it. I nod at Tootles, and we take our places, braced in front of the star, waiting as another billow of fog sweeps through the jungle.

  Three figures approach, striding out through the heavy gray fog. Connor is at the head, but as he draws nearer, I hardly recognize him. His eyes are nothing but twin sockets of black ink, and his raw skin has been filleted, flaking away from the thick, dark veins that claw across his face. Thick veins that are dripping, dripping, dripping . . . like thick, obsidian blood down his body.

  He’s hardly a boy or even a young man now. Just a s
hadow of himself.

  The two others emerge. Paige’s red hair wafts around her head like a pool of pale blood, and her eyes are bloodshot and wild. Hook is a few steps behind. I can’t make out his expression, but he seems to be hanging back a bit. Interesting.

  “Out of my way!” Connor’s voice rasps. I know they’re close enough to see us.

  Beside me, Tootles flinches. “Shouldn’t backup have arrived by now?”

  I quickly glance around. “I guess it’s just us.”

  Tootles locks his shoulders in place, nodding. “I’m not leaving.”

  Connor doesn’t seem amused by our little show. He tips his head to the side, eyes narrowing on Tootles. “You should have run.”

  A vine launches from the jungle behind Connor, cutting through the underbrush and immediately tossing Tootles out of the way. I watch his body go flying and see him land with a heavy thud. My body tenses, unsure whether I should run toward him or stay poised in front of the star.

  But then I see his chest rise and fall. A shuddering breath. A few Lost Boys inch toward him.

  I need to stay here. If I can’t somehow hold Connor back, it’s all futile.

  Protecting this star is my best chance at protecting these Lost Boys.

  I firmly place myself in front of the flickering star and hold my ground. Connor storms toward me as more thin vines snake across the ground, writhing on either side of him, ready to attack.

  I hold up my hand.

  “Connor, stop. Think about this—”

  Paige’s shriek interrupts, her bloodshot, erratic eyes on me.

  “Don’t kill him,” she tells Connor. “He’s mine.”

  Connor throws out his left hand, and a vine swivels, whipping forward. I brace for it to wrap around me, but instead it lurches toward the trees where the Lost Boys are hiding.

  I watch the vine wrench one of the twins out from his hiding place, wrapping around his ankle as he kicks and tries to get away. Connor doesn’t even turn to look at the boy as he speaks, voice gravelly. Hollow. Shadowed. “What about these cowards? They couldn’t even face Pan.”

  The twin is gasping and struggling, trying to rip the vine from where it’s wrapped so tightly that he’s bleeding. He’s blubbering, both apologies and pleas, so scared stiff that the words don’t make much sense.

  I tighten my grip on the knife, about to launch toward them, but Captain Hook moves swiftly to the twin. He towers over him, unsheathes the sword from his cane. He lifts the glint of metal, and a scream builds in my throat.

  But Hook brings his sword down and cuts away the length of vine below the captured leg.

  “Leave the boys alone,” Hook says, and I stifle my surprise. The pirate captain gestures for the lad to leave, and the twin scrambles to his feet and races away as quickly as he can.

  Paige narrows her eyes at him. “What was that?”

  Hook sheathes his sword, and for the first time, I get a good look at his face. Shock hits me when I see the still-healing bubbling burn scars across his jaw. Even his metal hook looks warped. Claire did that?

  Hook stares straight at me, and there’s something weighing in those eyes as he answers. “Your quarrel is with Pan, not the boys. They’ve done everything you’ve asked.”

  The pirate captain is actually defending the Lost Boys?

  He turns to Connor. “Or do you get pleasure from torturing terrified children now?”

  You’re one to talk.

  Connor winces. His head jerks to the side like he was struck. I didn’t even think he could feel anymore.

  I rise a little higher, flakes of Claire’s gold dust coating the air.

  Maybe the old Connor is still in there somewhere.

  I don’t have time to reflect on that as Connor’s full focus is now just on me.

  Those shadow eyes lock in. “Move.”

  I squeeze the blade in my right hand. “No.”

  A vine launches from the jungle floor and wraps around my waist so tight my ribs instantly bruise.

  I am tossed away from the star with such force that I slam into a nearby tree trunk. I fall to the ground, head spinning, fighting to remain conscious. My entire body throbs, the stitches in my side pulling open. Blood begins to ooze down my forehead and out of my side. I’m seeing stars.

  I groan and try to lift my head. I’m barely able to raise my eyes.

  Paige is watching me with that sickly smile. My broken, bent sister enjoying my pain.

  This is so messed up.

  My heart stops as Connor strides over to the star. His shadow begins to leak out from around his feet and stretch forward, like black ice reaching for the silver orb.

  I try to push myself off the ground to go after him, but I don’t have the strength. And now my ankle is beginning to throb so badly I wonder if I’ve broken it.

  I stretch one hand out helplessly toward the star. This is it.

  I can’t stand. I’m too broken.

  Connor has reached the edge of the dancing, arcing life force of Neverland. I watch him lift one hand, over the star, his shadow dripping and crawling toward it.

  “Nooo!”

  A gaunt form hurtles from the trees, straight at Connor, and bowls into him with enough force to knock him to the side. They both go flying. Connor lets out a guttural scream, but Tootles is already back on his feet in front of the star. He spreads his arms out, facing down both Connor and Paige.

  “Get out of our way,” Paige snaps.

  Tootles shakes his head. “I won’t let you hurt anyone else.”

  Her eyes seethe. “You’d risk your own life? For him?” Paige points a spindly finger at me.

  But Tootles just lifts his chin. “It doesn’t matter what Peter once did. We can do better now.”

  She steps forward, lifting a slender dagger to strike at Tootles.

  But then several more forms hurtle out of the trees and race toward Tootles, coming to either side of him. Paige halts, knife midair, and stares at the ragtag gang of Lost Boys who lock arms with each other, dirt-streaked faces meeting her eyes.

  She takes a small step backward.

  Cubby breaks away from the group and swiftly races over to me. Before I can croak out any questions, he lifts me into his hefty arms, and hauls me back to the others. Shock sears Paige’s expression. Connor’s shadow flares across the ground at his feet.

  Behind them, Hook is watching with cool amusement.

  The Lost Boys all pull me forward, positioning me at the middle of their group. Slightly loops one of my arms over his shoulder, while Tootles takes the other arm, both of them standing on either side, holding me up.

  “What are you doing?” Paige demands.

  Slightly lifts his chin, freckles growing a little bolder as his face flushes. “Standing with our brother. Standing with Peter.”

  I almost break down right then.

  Connor’s eyes narrow, slits of black in his cracked skin. “Then you’ll fall with him.”

  His hands dart out, and a dozen vines cut across the floor and wrap around arms and legs. One clamps around my throbbing ankle.

  All six of us are tossed away from the star. We slam into branches and thud to the icy ground. The wind is knocked from my lungs, and tears mix with the crusty blood and dirt on my cheeks. My ankle hurts so blooming much, as do the slices across my side, but I force myself onto my elbows to try to find where the other Lost Boys landed.

  The twins are gasping and groaning, Cubby’s arm is at an odd angle, and he’s writhing. Slightly must have hit his head on a rock, he’s lying motionless but still breathing. Tootles has curled into a little ball, nursing a nasty gash on his arm.

  At least they’re all still alive.

  For now

  I manage to look at Connor just in time to see him lean over the star. It spits and kicks up streams of silver that sizzle against his charred skin, but he doesn’t even flinch. He hunches his contorted body over the star, eyes black chasms and skin splitting apart from the pulsing dark vein
s. He opens his mouth.

  Dark liquid begins to seep out. Drip from his lips. It thickens and stretches and oozes as his shadow spills onto the star.

  “Stop!” The cry is followed by a massive funnel of gleaming golden dust that slams into Connor, knocking him backward just before the shadow can touch the silver orb.

  He hits the ground hard and rolls. The silhouette of his shadow arches over him, screeching and hissing.

  Paige trembles with fury. “Not now!”

  The tinkle of bells drifts down toward us. I turn over and look up at the canopy of leaves. A smile breaks over my face.

  The pixies are on the move again, and they’re not alone.

  Hundreds of the little creatures are pouring down through the branches and foliage. At their center is a Pixie-Girl soaked in so much pixie dust she could help all of Lily’s village to fly.

  Which is pretty much what she’s doing.

  All around Claire and the pixies, I see tribal warriors soaring through the air, weapons aimed at Paige and Connor and Hook. Tiger Lily is leading them, bringing her army to stand with us.

  The blood drains from Paige’s face as she watches the jungle come alive around her. More of Lily’s people climb down from the trees. Warrior after warrior. Pixie after pixie.

  They’re boxing Connor in.

  Claire hovers out of Paige’s reach. “This island was built on faith and trust. Those things can’t be broken down.”

  Paige moves closer to Connor, as if her pet weapon could protect her.

  Claire touches ground, and she rushes toward me. She takes in the damage and, making a pool of dust, she blows it across my body. More drizzles over my ankle and torn side. “I’m sorry we’re late, Peter,” she says quickly. “It took Lily some time to convince the rest of the tribe to rally. They were still uncertain.” Her dust is soaking in, taking away the edge of pain and starting to mend the wounds.

  I push myself to my feet, and she puts an arm around my waist. I lean on her and gently kiss her temple. “I’m glad you made it.”

  Crescent and Asher and several of the warriors tend to the Lost Boys, while Tiger Lily kneels by Tootles, gently wrapping up his arm in a makeshift bandage.