by Anna Katmore
Just a little farther. Almost there. Then I fall, like there’s a gap in the air. Smacking hard with my belly on a branch that stands out, all remaining air is being pushed out of my lungs. I cling onto that limb with the feeble strength left in me…but it’s not enough. My body slides down on one side and finally even my fingers give out. I have to let go.
As I plummet to the ground, I knock into more branches, feeling like each impact is splitting my bones. The final smack on the jungle floor breaks my back. The pain is excruciating. I cry out.
Everything goes dark.
Chapter 3
A MILKY WHITE moon reflects on the silent surface of the sea. Standing on the main deck of the Jolly Roger, I bend forward, fold my arms on the railing and bury my face in them. A deep sigh escapes me and turns into a moan before it’s over. What the hell was I thinking pointing a gun at my brother’s face? Sure, it wasn’t the first time, but so much has happened the past few weeks. It doesn’t feel right any longer. Quite the contrary, an uncomfortable pressure rests on my nape.
“Cap’n? The crew wants to know where we’re headed.”
Smee’s stern voice fails to make me straighten from my bent over position. “Mermaid Lagoon,” I growl into the fabric of my sleeves. “And then farther north.”
“You think we’ll finally find London there?”
“No. But the gold.” Yeah, right. As if my betrayal wasn’t complete yet, I’m also going to steal my treasure back before we’re setting sail to find London.
I wonder if Peter knows what’s coming at him. As from tonight on, he’ll age again. How must that feel for a boy who wouldn’t grow up? How will I feel? And also the people in town? They all will take a step forward in their existence…not that they would notice any of it. Do the pirates feel it already?
Does Smee?
I push myself up and brace my hands on the railing, glancing at my first mate over my shoulder. There’s no visible change about his looks. But then it’s only been a few hours since Peter tossed the pocket watch into the volcano.
Expecting a little too much, James Hook. Behind closed lids, I roll my eyes at myself.
“So it’s time to take back what’s ours?” Smee says delightedly. I can’t begrudge him this. We’ve all been waiting for so long for this day to come. It really should make me a great deal happier. But it doesn’t.
“Yes. The tide is out. We’ll have to take the dinghies to the rocks and then empty the cave. Have the crew prepared. I want this over before morning breaks.”
“Aye.” Anticipation is written all over Smee’s face. He doesn’t have to know that we’re not going to spend one doubloon of the treasure on celebrating like we’ve planned to do all these goddamn years. As soon as the cargo hold is loaded, we’re heading off farther north. It’s as good a direction to start looking for Angel as any other.
Or maybe I misjudged Jack and he knows it already? He strides away with a happy tune on his lips, making up a fancy rhyme on the word London.
Little later we pass Mermaid Lagoon and soon the rocky peaks Angel once mentioned in her sleep appear on the horizon. Like the rotten teeth in Barnacle Breath’s mouth they protrude from the dark water. With this part of the sea being rockier than any other side of Neverland, there’s no chance we can sail all the way to the treasure cave with the ship. The crew drops anchor while we’re still in deep waters and prepare the only two dinghies we have.
In the light of burning torches, the boats take off toward the rocks. Smee is in one of them together with Fin and Walefluke. Brant Skyler, Cheatin’ Wade Dawkins and Bull’s Eye Ravi row the other. From the distance, I watch them land at the rocky circle and climb the first peak. When the tiny yellow spot that is the torch in Smee’s hand moves up and then moments later down, I know there’s no cave there.
They try three more peaks until one of the torches finally moves in a circle in the air. The signal. My heart steps up. They found the treasure’s den.
Soon the little fire dots at the horizon disappear into the cave. My mouth dry like Potato Ralph’s cake, I can’t wait for them to come back to the ship with the first load of treasure. But it takes almost an hour until the men return.
Donning my hat and cape, I await them on the main deck. When Smee climbs up the rope ladder and leaps on board, he’s grinning like a drunken sailor in the arms of a lass. “Got you something,” he says and gives me a shiny gold doubloon.
Slowly, I close my fingers around it, press it to my chest and squeeze my eyes shut. “It’s been a while, little treasure,” I murmur under my breath. Then I pocket the coin and join in as everyone helps emptying the boats and carrying the gold and gems into the bilge. On the next ride back to the cave, I join Smee’s boat and help him row, so we get there faster.
Climbing the rocks is bothersome, but as soon as I slide down on the rope the men set up into the cave and breathe in the delicious scent of horded silver and gold, my exhaustion is forgotten. I hunker down on top of the highest heap of treasure and run my fingers though the cool coins. Sink me, I’ve missed that! A smile creeps to my lips.
Puddles of seawater cover the floor. Soft splashing sounds echo in the cave as I walk about, inspecting each little piece of the bootie. A long forgotten feeling of possession overtakes me. Then my gaze lands on an open, empty little chest on the damp stone ground. My hand inches up to the spot over my sternum. The key to this chest rested there for decades, hidden only by the linen of my shirt.
A sting in my heart makes me clench my teeth. Thoughts of Peter violently shove back into my mind, and it was only a freaking half-hour since I could kick him out from there anyway. Picking up the chest and stroking the lid, I silently pray that my brother is all right.
In huge gunnysacks, the men haul the treasure out through the trap door and carry them down to the boats. I stay in the cave when they cart it back to the Jolly Roger. While I’m alone in the damp grotto, I sit down on a chest full of diamonds and other colorful gems and let my gaze wander about. Soon all this will be gone from here, down to the last little heap of gold. It’ll be back where it belongs—in my possession.
This moment should mean everything to me. But it fails to fully cheer me up. It’s not only my betrayal of Peter that quenches my joy, but also the uncertainty about Angel. The spell is over, the gate to leave Neverland should be open. But will we be able to sail to London? Bre’Shun wants a rainbow. How can I ever bring her one? Whatever it is she needs it for, a foreboding racks me that I might fail on this journey if I ignore the fairy’s request.
But I have to try.
The gold doubloon Smee gave me earlier is still in my pocket. I pull it out and spin it through my fingers, murmuring, “Heads, I’ll find her. Tails, I won’t.” I flip the coin into the air. It twists a few times, glinting in the light of the burning torch, until it lands in my palm again. The clap echoes in the cave as I smack that hand onto the back of my other. Grinding my teeth, I frown and will it to be heads.
Slowly lifting my hand, I tilt my head and peek underneath. “Goddammit!”
The coin runs through my fingers again. Then I snap it up. “Be heads!” Quickly, I lift my hand to see what I got.
By Davie Jones’ locker, this can’t be true! A low growl erupts from my throat.
I go for a third try, but this time with altered rules. Heads means I won’t find Angelina McFarland, tails says I will. My lip threatens to pop between my teeth as the coin spins in the air. I catch it and smack it on the back of my other hand. Tails came up twice. It has to do so again. “Be. Tails.” I move my hand away. “Damn little bastard!”
I fling the coin against the rock face from where it rebounds and lands in a water puddle. Kneading the spot between my eyes, I squint and decide to go on this journey nevertheless.
Voices drift to me. The crew returned to move the next load of gold. I buck up. Together we refill the gunnysacks until not another single coin fits in there. Some hours later, the entire treasure is gone from this place. The on
ly thing that stays behind is the empty chest. It waits in the corner for Peter to find it when he comes here next time.
Grabbing the last torch from the clamp in the wall, I wind the rope around my other hand and let the crew pull me out of the grotto. The men close the trapdoor and place the stones back on it before we leave.
Under the additional weight, the Jolly Roger has sunken a few inches deeper into the water. She appears like a lazy old lady, pleased to be loaded with a fine meal. I stroke my hand over the railing once we’ve returned, feeling the cold of the dawn creeping up at the back of my neck.
When I turn to walk into my quarters, I run into a creature with hair as pale as her skin and mystic turquoise eyes which pierce mine. “Hello, James,” she coos.
“Remona.” It’s a plain surprise to find her on my ship—if not a shock, to tell the truth. Now I realize, the cold I felt wasn’t the breaking morning after all, but her fingers tapping my neck. “How did you get here?”
“I’m a fairy. How do you think?” She smiles and shrugs. “I swam.”
I lift one brow at her, calling her out on her lie since her milky white dress, her skin and her hair are perfectly dry. At that moment, however, a flush of water swishes out of her…body. It splashes on deck, leaving her drenched from the top of her head to her bare feet.
“See?” Remona grins like a sprightly child, although she’s alleged to be older than the mountains of Neverland.
“Fine. You swam here.” I still don’t believe her. “Why did you come?”
“Bre sent me. Said to give you these.” She holds out her hand. In her open palm are three beans.
My brows knit together. “What’s that?”
“They are called beckon beans.”
The vision of a tag with that name on it in the fairies’ garden surfaces in my mind. My lips stay closed as I tilt my head, prompting her to tell me more.
“If you eat one, it’ll lead you in the right direction.”
“What direction?”
“No idea. Left, right, north-north-west…” A smirk appears on her face.
I wonder why Bre sent her sister. She must know how this woman loves to play games and be cryptic—excessively so even for a fairy. Is it to torture me even more? “I meant in the right direction to where?” I drawl.
“Oh. Why didn’t you say so at the beginning? They will lead you to Angelina McFarland of course.”
Of course.
“It’s our gift to you for releasing Neverland from an annoying charm. Beckon beans work like a magnet. You think it, they lead you there. Oh, little warning: think about Angelina and not about a one-eye troll with bad breath when you eat one.” Her face crumples into a knowing grimace. “You’ll know which way to go then.”
I take the beans from her hand and close my fingers around them so tightly, my palm begins to sweat. “You mean, if I eat them, I’ll just know which course to take, right?”
“Right. It’s enough to eat one at a time, though. The effect will wear off after a day.”
“Then why did Bre send me three?”
“Prevision.” She snaps the word like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and like, in her eyes, I’m an idiot. Then her voice takes on a tired edge. “Don’t forget about the rainbow, Captain.” After that, she brushes past me and clumsily climbs onto the railing. With an excited squeal, she takes a dauntless jump and drops butt-first.
As I hurry forward to look down at the sea, there is no sign of the crazy woman anywhere. She just disappeared, and even before any splash was to be heard. I shake my head.
The three beans are still in my palm. I examine the tiny white things for a minute, then I pick one and pop it in my mouth. It’s time to put the fairy’s present to test. Ready to set a new course, this little bean might just show me which.
Eyes closed, I hold my breath until Angel’s image comes up bright and clear in my mind. In that vision, my fingers slide through her silky black hair. I kiss her tender heart-shaped mouth. Then I swallow.
The bean gets stuck in my throat, chocking me. I cough it up and spit it into my hand. What the hell—
“Maybe you have to chew it first.”
I look up and find Smee standing a couple feet away, leaning backward on the railing and rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt. Too absorbed with the fairy’s visit, I didn’t notice him standing there all along. “Maybe you’re right.”
With a new surge of hope swamping me, I put the bean between my teeth and bite down, thinking of Angel. Immediately, a sour apple taste explodes in my mouth. I have the feeling, if I open my lips, a gush of reddened saliva might come out. Tiny bubbles burst everywhere, on my tongue, against the roof of my mouth, at the top of my throat. It’s hard to swallow the tingling mash.
When it goes down, I wait for something to happen. For miraculously iterating the right course to set and to reach a city called London in a different world. But the only feeling that overcomes me, is a quenching thirst. Hurrying to the rum storage under deck, I gulp down half a bottle. The thirst stays. Maybe rum wasn’t the right liquid. I try a jar of water next, but the burning feeling in my throat doesn’t go away. Instead it spreads to my chest and upper gut, the strange heat of it nearly killing me.
Breaking out in a sweat, I return on deck and peel my shirt of in the light of the rising sun. The crew stares as if a curse has come over me. Maybe that’s just what happened. I need something to cool me down. Water. Or wind. Yes, wind should be fine. Glancing wildly around, I find the place that pulls me in. The highest mast on deck.
Swift and practiced steps up the net take me to the very top. My lungs expand with a deep breath. But I’m still not where I long to be. Lifting my gaze to the sky, I make out the fading moon, opposite the sunrise. Naturally, it’s impossible to fly to the moon—for a pirate anyway—but the brewing storm inside my chest urges me to let go of the net and just try. My fingers ease off the rope.
“James!”
Smee’s sharp voice sucks my attention out of the sky and down to the main deck. His face is horrorstruck. Hands cupped around his mouth, he shouts, “What in the world are you doing, Cap’n?”
My gaze switches back and forth between him and the waning moon that so eerily pulls me in. My grip tightens around the ropes once more. Blow me down, what rode me to think I could fly like Pan?
Warily, I make my way back down the mast. Jack Smee puts his hands on my shoulders the moment my feet are back on the floorboards. “Scuttle me bones, James. What the hell was that?”
I have no answer for him, only a shake of my head and a shrug.
“Did the bean do that to you?”
It’s possible. Most likely, even. “I’ve never felt an urge so strong before.” Fishing the remaining two beans out of my pocket, I open my palm and stare at them. “That’s devil’s work, for sure.”
“Did it give you an idea where to go? Do you know the right course now?”
I lift my head and lock determined eyes with my first mate. “Hoist anchor, Smee. Set sails. We follow the moon.”
Angelina
HUNCHED OVER MY essay on Shakespeare’s King Lear for English literature, I get distracted by the noises coming from the room next door. Paulina and Brittney Renae are fighting over yet another hairclip from a new princess magazine I bought them on the way home from school. It’s hard to concentrate when listening to one five-year-old twin calling the other an ugly toad. A couple more years might have to pass until either of them understands just how such an insult backfires. Biting the backend of my pen, I chuckle then focus on the last paragraph on my page and try to continue.
A drop falls onto the paper. Onto to the words his heart in particular. The blue ink blurs.
Confused, I lift my gaze to the ceiling to see if water is dripping from there somehow. No sign of a leak. It would have been strange in this noble mansion anyway. With a tissue, I tab the damp spot on the sheet and write on. Only seconds later, another drop lands on the paper. What the heck?
>
I wipe my hand over my cheek. There’s a wet trail. Surprise makes me drop my pen. Why in the world am I crying? I’m feeling alright.
Gazing out through the window above my desk, I enjoy the warm caress of sunlight on my face. It’s almost the end of March. Trees start to bloom, birds are chirping in the twigs, the adorable scent of lilac drifts through my open balcony door. There’s no reason at all to be sad, or worse to cry.
Maybe it’s just a dust particle causing those tears. I squeeze my eyes shut and rub my thumb and forefinger across them toward the bridge of my nose. No more tears fall after that. But something strange freaks me out just a second later. The faint beat beat pause of somebody’s heart echoes in my ears. The sound repeats over and over. And it’s not my own heart, I can tell, because it beats in a slight disharmony.
Jerking up from my chair, I move a few steps backward, away from my desk, but my gaze keeps focused on the small drawer at the bottom right side. I know what’s in there, but it can’t be that a glass heart suddenly starts to beat. Can it?
I rake my hands through my hair. Obviously, I’ve been sitting over this homework one hour to many. A break, that’s what I need. But the consequent beat beat pause draws me in like a beacon, slinging its noose around my neck and pulling me forward. My fingers trembling slightly, I open the drawer. At the back lies the red glass heart. Of course it’s not beating. In fact, the sound has stopped the moment I squatted in front of my desk ready to take a look.
Very. Very. Creepy.
Slamming the drawer shut, I rise and walk out into the wide carpeted hall on the first floor of our mansion. Brittney Renae runs squealing out of her room and toward me. I catch her, scoop her up, twist her in the hall and press her to my chest. “What’s going on, fairy bug?”
“The toad wants to steal my hairclip.” Pouting, she holds her tiny hand out to me, showing me the clip with a Snow White image on it.
