While he cooled off, I allowed my gaze to wander around the hovel, which was well-lit though I couldn’t see a single candle. Except for the light, everything else appeared normal and unassuming, including the numerous beds carved into the tree itself. They wouldn’t be suitable for adults but could easily contain children; several, if they were small enough. I counted at least a dozen until it hit me.
He was alone.
At least—he was now, but hadn’t always been. Several of the beds contained various personal belongings: a slingshot, an assortment of toys, several books. On the smallest bed of all rested a lone teddy bear, its beady black eyes burning into my own like coals.
My voice shook. “Are… Are they all—”
“I’m going to the lagoon to wash.” Whirling around, Peter shot me a look that warned me not to argue. “I know you’re filthier than I am, but I need to ensure that it’s safe. I’ll come back for you.”
“I’ll come along.” The words slipped from my tongue before I could hold them back. Though still furious with him, I didn’t like the thought of becoming live bait for Nightstalkers any more than I wished to remain in his depressing hovel alone. Just because they hadn’t torn down the tree to get to Peter or the children didn’t mean they wouldn’t for me.
“Absolutely not.”
I scoffed. “Don’t be a ridiculous, of course I’ll look away while you—”
“No, Wendy. Do you want to end up like them?” He gestured toward the overabundance of empty beds, voice rising with his emotion.
“Of course not.” I kept my tone even, refusing to play his game. “I simply think—”
After snatching some clothes from a drawer, Peter held up his dagger. He closed the distance between us until little space remained between us. Though his features hardened into something I barely recognized, I held my chin high as he took a deep breath and spoke in a low growl.
“If you think I’m taking a leisurely stroll, think again. There are mermaids and crocodiles down there—at best—not to mention any Nightstalkers we might encounter along the way. You saw what happened with the last one, what I had to do. Everything that remains in this place is dead or dying. Our curse can be reversed for a short time, but only by more death. It’s why everything wants to kill everything else… for a respite from our endless torment, however brief. Bringing you along would be a liability. You only just got here, so you’re as alive as they come. Killing you?” He eyed me up and down. “Most Neverlanders would risk their miserable lives for the chance alone.”
“So why don’t you?”
My voice emerged in a breathy whisper; perhaps I wasn’t as courageous as I’d built myself up to be in my head. The dagger near my face certainly wasn’t helping. When my gaze flickered toward it, Peter lowered the weapon, but didn’t relax his clenched jaw.
“Don’t think I haven’t considered it.”
“That’s not an answer.” I took a step closer. “I want the truth.”
He raised an eyebrow at my proximity but didn’t back away. “I’m set for at least a few days by slaying that Nightstalker. With any luck, more. Perhaps, in that time, you can bring a little light to this place.”
I scoffed in disgust. “I’m not a goddamn maid.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I was talking about your mere presence.” Peter’s gaze softened, as did his voice. I wasn’t certain if he even realized it, but his fingers lightly brushed my hand, the contact soothing me more than I cared to admit. Under different circumstances, I might have welcomed it.
Unfortunately for us both, I’d far sooner knee him in the groin. We might be stuck together, but that didn’t mean I’d forgiven him for being the one to set the day’s events in motion. He had a lot of making up to do. It was my birthday, after all, and I didn’t care that I normally didn’t celebrate it: he’d ruined it.
Not wanting him to catch even a glimpse of my moment of weakness, I kept up my hateful facade as I spat my reply. “It takes far less effort to simply admit that you’re lonely.”
“I’m not,” Peter snapped, furrowing his brow. He withdrew his touch in an instant before growling a warning. “Don’t make me reconsider letting you live. As long as you’re in my house, you play by my rules.”
With that, he stormed away, slamming and bolting the door from the outside. Still registering his words, I raced after him too late, beating my wounded hands upon the harsh wood though the action brought tears to my eyes. “Is this a house, or a prison?”
He didn’t answer; he was gone.
And I was alone.
Once I’d quit screaming and cursing Peter’s name, I sank to the floor and took another savage bite from my apple. The juices now tasted bitter on my tongue, and if I hadn’t been so ravenous, I’d have hurled the stupid thing across the room—ideally smashing something in the process. After devouring the fruit down to its seeds, I discarded the core before wrapping both arms around my knees. My eyelids grew heavy after a few short minutes; truly, it was a wonder I hadn’t keeled over before now. As exhausted as I was after all I’d experienced, sleeping in one of the abandoned beds was far too depressing, so I accepted the fate of an uncomfortable nap right where I sat.
I’d nearly drifted off when flickers of bright yellow began flashing in my peripheral vision.
Blinking, I was half-convinced my mind had slipped into a dream, but the lights only grew brighter and the flashes more insistent. Soon, they were so overpowering I could hardly open my eyes at all. Shielding my gaze, I peeked through my fingers. A faint tinkling of bells greeted me, but I still couldn’t make out any shapes through the illumination.
“H-hello?” Keeping my hand over my eyes, I turned my face toward the sound. “If this is you playing tricks on me, Peter, I swear to the gods I’ll—”
The bells lowered in pitch, and the light flashed an angry red hue. It began retreating further into the darkness, deep into a place I wouldn’t be able to follow. Panic constricted my throat.
“No, wait—please stay. Who are you?” What would have been the far better question, but I swallowed it down for later. Peter had taught me at least that much.
The gentle tinkling resumed, broken yet conversational—almost as if speaking a language of song. Dimming its illumination, a small creature hovered just out of reach, and for the first time, I heard the faint fluttering of what sounded like wings. I dared a look free of my hands and gasped aloud.
A fairy?
She smiled as my jaw dropped, clearly enjoying my reaction to her beauty. In almost every way, the fairy resembled a tiny human, exactly as all the stories depicted. Delicate gossamer wings held her upright, their faint buzzing not unlike that of an insect, and she wore clothing made of flowers. Warm brown skin glowed faintly, accentuating dark, textured hair and soft features. When she opened her mouth, only that bell sound emerged, so I was left guessing at what she’d asked.
“I’m Wendy.” I spoke slowly not because I feared she couldn’t understand me, but because I was still enchanted by her very existence. “Who are you?”
She zipped closer, pointing excitedly at a glass of water on the counter. With exaggerated gestures, she pretended to pick it up and consume its contents.
Not knowing how long it had been there, I grimaced. “I’m not drinking that.”
At this, she nodded excitedly.
“Drink?” I questioned. “Do you want a drink?”
She shook her head before making a T shape with her hands. When I furrowed my brow in confusion, she made the shape once more before then pointing to the glass, and finally herself.
“Oh! You’d like some tea!” I quickly searched the counter, but as I’d expected, came up short. “So would I, but I don’t think Peter has anything to make s—”
An angry bell nose interrupted me, and I glanced behind to see the fairy stamping her foot in midair. She repeated her ch
arade: the T, the drink, and herself.
“Tea-drink? Drink tea? I don’t… Oh, you liked tea-drink?”
She nodded and waved her hands for me to keep going, but soon grew impatient. Fluttering over to the glass, she tapped on it repeatedly, producing a high-pitched tone.
“Tea-drink, t-dink, t… Tink? Tink, is that it? Your name?”
The fairy burst happily into song before zipping about the room enthusiastically. Wherever Tink went, a curious cloud of golden dust trailed after her. I wondered where she’d been when Peter and I had arrived—hiding at his request, perhaps? Why had she waited until now to appear?
“I’m Wendy,” I said once she was finished. Bowing my head, I stood and curtsied as Mrs. Hughes had taught me. “Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Tink.”
Tink’s eyes went wide with wonder. She made an awkward attempt to mimic me, and I laughed.
“Don’t fret about it—they’re awfully difficult to get the hang of.” After curtsying several more times, she began fretting with my clothes, and the little information I’d gleaned began piecing together in my head. The Nightstalker’s scathing words: “Fairy magic won’t save you,” Tink’s flash of rage when I’d threatened Peter, and her fascination with simple things from my world…
It might be enough to see me out of here.
“You’re Peter’s companion?” I asked, keeping my tone conversational and not too curious. I didn’t need Tink distrusting me before I’d even begun to weasel my way out of here. “Why did he leave you behind?”
Her face fell, and she sagged her shoulders. Perfect.
I nodded, understanding. “He left me behind too. I don’t get it.”
I crossed the room to where my music box rested on the floor. Tink hovered over my shoulder, so close that her wings tickled my earlobe. Lightly shooing her a bit further away, I traced my fingers over the familiar silver plating. “If you liked my curtsy, I have no doubt you’ll like this a hundred times better.”
She hummed with excitement as I lifted the lid. The melody began slowly, in need of a good crank to get it going again, but it was more than enough to excite Tink. Her eyes widened, and she buzzed closer to get a better look. Before she could stare too long, I snapped the lid shut, cutting off the music mid-song.
“Not yet,” I warned. “There’s something I’d like in exchange.” Turning, I kept one hand on the box. Tink cocked her head, gaze questioning, so I blurted it out. “Help me get out of here, and you can play with this all you’d like.”
A lump formed in my throat at the thought of leaving my music box with anyone—even a magical fairy. But Tink was surely too small to cause any irreparable damage to my precious heirloom, and Peter’s tree otherwise seemed safe and secure enough from the outside world. It would be here when I came back.
If I came back.
Shoving the uncomfortable truth aside, I awaited Tink’s answer. She appeared caught in a dilemma, chewing her fingernails while glancing longingly at the mysterious box.
I gave her a gentle nudge. “Peter is your friend, right? You miss him when he’s gone?” The pained look in her eyes was answer enough, so I continued lying through my teeth. “He’s my friend, too, so it really hurt when he insisted on venturing out by himself. He promised to come back for me, but we’d both be back a lot sooner if I just caught up with him. He’d return to you quicker, too.”
Tink listened in silence.
I met her gaze. “Please.” Please don’t make me stay here. I intended to give Peter a piece of my mind, and as far as I was concerned, it simply couldn’t wait. That aside, I didn’t want him getting the idea that he could order me around and I would listen without question. I’d done that for sixteen years and would do so no longer.
Just when I thought she might deny me, Tink nodded once.
I clasped my hands in delight, unable to contain my relief. “Thank—”
She held up a hand to silence me before zipping further into darkness. I almost followed before remembering the music box needed a good cranking if I was to hold up my end of the bargain. After turning the key several times, I pocketed it and scrambled after her.
Tink’s glow illuminated the dark and dusty corner. There would be no avoiding the clumps of dirt and old cobwebs, so it was a good thing I was already filthy. Once on my hands and knees, I realized what she was getting at: a narrow passage was carved into the tree. I’d fit, but only just.
“You’ll have to lead the way, Tink,” I murmured, hoping my voice wasn’t shaking as much as my hands. If anything scared me, it was being crammed into a small space for any length of time; but if this was the only way out of the prison Peter had sentenced me to, so be it.
Tink nodded before zipping ahead, having no trouble with the space. I, on the other hand, had to fight an internal war to keep myself from having a panic attack. The tunnel seemed to be growing narrower with every advance, but whether it was my imagination or my fear, I didn’t know. Taking breaths became increasingly difficult; the musky smell combined with an abundance of dust had me coughing until my ribs ached.
But eventually, light that didn’t come from Tink emerged on the other side. Desperate to be free, I picked up my pace, kicking and clawing at the walls until at last, fresh air tickled my arms. With a final heave, I yanked my body from the hole, collapsing in the dirt before I’d even freed my legs.
Tink watched with her brow furrowed in confusion, asking what I assumed was some variant of whether I was all right. Weakly, I nodded, hacking up the dust still lingering in my airway.
“Claustrophobic,” I managed. “I can’t stand small spaces. In short, I never want to do that again.” If you make me, Peter, I’ll kill you myself.
Once I’d caught my breath, I stood, ignoring the fact that my arms were now black with what appeared to be soot. Bowing my head, I curtsied to the fairy once more. “Thank you so much for all of your help—”
She interrupted by placing a small hand on my lips. With a coy smile, Tink rose above my head; I lifted my chin to watch her. Her wings beat faster than I’d ever seen them, and the act seemed to be disturbing the dust cloud that was her constant companion. A good bit of the stuff began falling onto me, filling me with warmth and an odd sense of weightlessness.
Before I’d gotten used to it, the ground fell out from beneath me.
A fresh wave of panic gripped my heart, and reflexively, I reached for Tink. “Help—I’m falling!”
“No, Wendy.” That bell sound emerged from Tink’s lips, but unlike before, I could understand her perfectly. “You’re flying.”
Glancing down, I realized she was right; the earth hadn’t moved. I had. I floated in midair, the air behaving as though it was water and I was swimming.
Tink laughed. “Don’t just hover! Try it out!”
I didn’t need to be told twice. Using my hands to slice through the wind, I glided forward before rising until I was nearly the same height as Peter’s tree. Testing different strokes to see what was most effective, it wasn’t long before I had done several flips and twists, likely flashing Tink my undergarments as my skirt fell over my face. I hardly cared; it wasn’t as though I looked like anything resembling a lady at the moment.
“You learn quickly.” Tink nodded her approval. “Peter isn’t far, and especially not if you fly. Rise above the canopy, but only just; from there, you’ll be able to see the lagoon.”
I nodded, already allowing myself to glide higher. “Understood.”
The fairy zipped up to meet me. “Be careful. If you fly too high, you’ll be spotted by the pirates. They have hidden forts and lookouts everywhere. You mustn’t fly too low, either, or you’ll become prey to the forest.”
Lookouts and forts, huh? I made a mental note of her words, but not solely as the warning Tink intended. “Is that all?”
“Not quite. You’ll be able to understand
my speech from now on, but the flying part won’t last forever. Don’t stray, and don’t waste it.”
“Is that why you waited so long to give it to me?”
Tink smirked. “No. I’m just curious about all the newcomers and how they react to my presence. Think of it as a test of sorts… one you passed with flying colors.”
“Thank—wait. There were others?”
The fairy had already darted halfway down the tree, waving a hand dismissively. “Be careful, Wendy Maynard. You’re going to need all the luck you can get. For this… and other things.”
As she darted back into the hole, chills shot up my spine. I’d never told her my last name.
No… it had been a long day; surely my mind was playing tricks on me. I must have mentioned it during our introductions and forgotten. I had bigger things to worry about, and a Peter to catch.
As Tink had instructed, I glided upward until I was above the forest’s canopy. It wasn’t hard to see why she’d warned me not to go much higher; enough fog had settled here to keep me hidden, but not if I dared to rise any further. Narrowing my gaze, I scanned my surroundings until I spotted my destination; a few more minutes of flight, and I had arrived. The lagoon was well sheltered by a dozen or so palm trees apparently not yet afflicted by the curse. Bright blue and sparkling, the place was a splash of color amongst all the grey and black, begging me to take a dip beneath its waters. I didn’t even care if it was freezing; I couldn’t wait to be free of all this grime. Making certain to heed Tink’s warning, I started forward, fingers grazing the branches I passed below.
That was when a shriek so high-pitched it nearly split my head in two pierced the air. All sound was replaced with buzzing and pain, and disoriented, I tumbled from the sky.
It was only thanks to the palms I didn’t fall to my death. The massive leaves served as a spiky, uncomfortable cushion, allowing me to slide from one to another as I neared the ground. Bark grazed my face and arms, but the scrapes it left were nothing compared to the agony lingering in my ears. Even after collapsing on solid ground, it was still some time before my hearing returned enough to make sense of the chaos ensuing just ahead.
A Land of Never After Page 4
