Over it had been drawn a hook.
My mother’s voice echoed in the back of my head. “Dragon. Wolf. Serpent. Crow.”
“You know of us, then?”
I raised my gaze, face flushed upon realizing I’d spoken aloud. “Scarlett told me, actually.”
Shock crossed Cedric’s face. “She’s alive?”
“No,” I said quickly. “But I… hear her voice sometimes. Especially here.”
“If she abandoned you as an infant, how can you be sure the voice is hers?”
“Who else could it be?”
He said nothing, and the silence quickly became uncomfortable, so I changed the subject back to the diagram.
“This one near the bottom—”
“That’s me.” Cedric’s gaze darkened. “I’ve had many aliases over the years: some I took willingly, others not. The oldest is ‘Crow.’ You’ll have seen my siblings’ symbols, too: Jamie the Dragon, Lucas the Wolf, and Elvira the Serpent. At the center rests our father—your grandfather.”
“The… bones?” Glancing at it a second time, I noticed that the skull sported horns.
“Not quite. His name was Edward Teach, but most called him Blackbeard.”
Now I remembered; the symbol was the pirate king’s flag. It had indeed been referenced in the books I’d managed to procure over the years, but Mrs. Hughes had always confiscated the ones having anything to do with pirates. Nearly thirty years since Blackbeard’s death, and his deeds were still legendary as they were infamous.
I gaped. “You’re his son?”
“I should hope so—I fought like hell to earn that goddamn surname. Cedric ‘Hook’ Teach: the one and only.” He sank into an exaggerated bow, prosthetic glittering as he stood back upright.
“I’m assuming Hook came later?”
“Keeping up, are we?” Cedric nodded as if impressed. “Good. There’s more—but it might help to read something first. Turn the page.”
I obeyed, sighing in relief at the presence of intelligible words. Though he hadn’t asked me to, I read them aloud, but regretted my choice the further down the page I got.
“A blackened heart with children four
Three beloved, the last ignored
Dragon, Serpent, Wolf, and Crow
All shall make a deadly foe
Medallions forged, cast in gold
Too precious to be bought or sold
A priceless gift, a piece for each
Except the last, who is no Teach
One to the dragon, breath alight
One to the wolf who howls at night
One to the serpent, quick and cruel
None to the crow—forever the fool.”
While I read, Cedric made his way toward the previously forbidden shrine. In an act that told me such rules had been revoked, he gently lifted the portrait once I’d finished reciting, sparing it a pained glance before handing it to me.
Mother.
She was beautiful, and just as she’d appeared in my dreams. With dark locks, full lips, and a soft, round face, she would have stood out in any crowd. I trailed my fingers over the collection of freckles before settling upon her most distinct feature: her eyes, bright and fierce. It wasn’t hard to see why Cedric would have found himself drawn to them, nor why Elvira had recognized the same fire in mine. They might be one of the only features we shared, but it was impossible to deny the resemblance.
“Scarlett Ariel Maynard,” Cedric murmured. “Daughter of Lieutenant Robert Maynard.”
Another name I recognized from the book. “Wait… Blackbeard’s killer?”
He clenched his jaw. “The very same.”
“And how did that—”
“A story for another day. The one I want to tell revolves around this.”
Cedric produced a second item from the shrine: the thing I’d assumed was a necklace. It was a rather large medallion, forged of what appeared to be gold, and took up my entire palm when he placed it there. Just like the drawing, the medallion was triangular, containing small etchings of a dragon, wolf, and serpent.
I traced the faint lines separating them. “The medallion in the poem?”
“The very same. That heirloom was once in pieces, with each of the parts belonging to one of my siblings.”
“Why didn’t you get one?” The dismissive words echoed in my head—forever the fool—and I felt a burning need for the answer, no matter how painful.
Cedric’s jaw clenched. He raised his hook, and for a moment I thought he might strike me. Instead, he brought the prosthetic to his chin, scratching absently as he spoke. “‘Last born, least wanted.’ I wouldn’t have been kept around if my mother hadn’t died. Blackbeard became stuck with me, a spare, and I simply didn’t compare to the older three. I’m sure you can tell why Elvira despises ‘Crow’ so much. It’s a reminder of a painful time.” He snapped his head up. “But we aren’t discussing my shortcomings.”
Not wanting to say the wrong thing again, I waited for him to continue.
“None of us saw the medallions as anything but a status symbol. Blackbeard had another made for himself, and they became as known and feared as we were ourselves. Only once he died did his fondness for black magic and curses become apparent.” Cedric spared a glance at Scarlett’s portrait, now resting on his desk, before turning to look out the window. “That night was pure chaos; it was every man for himself. Jamie scarred and tried to kill me while Lucas made off with most of Blackbeard’s trove. I only survived Jamie thanks to Elvira, but she and I weren’t exactly allies at the time, so I threw myself into the sea, swimming all the way to shore rather than going with her.”
Apparently blood wasn’t thicker than water in this family.
“Two months later I met Scarlett, though I didn’t discover her true identity for a while. I was a wanted fugitive thanks to Jamie’s desire to finish what he’d started, and she was desperate to save her dying father. Lieutenant Maynard had fallen inexplicably ill after slaying Blackbeard, but it wasn’t sickness—a witch confirmed it to be a curse he’d unleashed after damaging Blackbeard’s medallion in their struggle. It spread like a plague, so soon I started to feel it too. You’re alive, but rotting from the inside out. The pain is excruciating, and it’s just as it is here in Neverland: unless you kill something every few days, you’ll die. Human or animal—it makes no difference. It spread to Scarlett as well as several others involved in Blackbeard’s death, but as spies informed us, never my siblings. As long as they possessed their medallions, they were safe. Scarlett and I could no longer ignore our shared goal: if we hunted down each of the shards belonging to my siblings, we could not only piece them back together, contain the curse, and cure her father, but we’d remove the threats facing me in the process. It was becoming increasingly clear I couldn’t live in a world in which Jamie was alive.”
I’d long since settled on the desk, my eyes wide with wonder. This was better than any tale I’d ever heard, and it had the added bonus of involving my parents—despicable murderer of innocents as one of them might be.
Cedric picked up on my fascination and scowled. “This isn’t story time—it’s serious.”
“I know.” Just because I was enjoying myself didn’t mean I wasn’t taking every word to heart. “What happened next?”
“We spent the next several years sailing the globe, hunting down the pieces one by one. Once Elvira and I put aside our differences, she agreed to surrender hers once it came time to break the curse. We were able to corner and slay Lucas… eventually.” Cedric grimaced at the memory. “Jamie, of course, was last.”
“And?” I all but demanded.
“We failed.”
My face fell; I never did like unhappy endings.
“Not only did Jamie live, the bastard stole Elvira and Lucas’s pieces; without the medallion to protect her, the rot
spread to Elvira, too. Jamie stashed all three shards in the one place he thought I would never dare go: Blackbeard’s tomb. He’s buried here in Neverland, along with Lucas—Jamie saw to it that their remains were recovered and properly laid to rest.”
“So that’s how you ended up here.”
Cedric nodded. “Scarlett’s father refused to keep killing and had succumbed to the curse by this point, so she begged me to reconsider. I wouldn’t listen. We assembled a new crew, assaulted the tomb, and hunted Jamie down. He was waiting for me inside, surrounded by a mountain of treasure. I prepared for the fight of my life, but Neverland had done something awful to his mind. He wasn’t Jamie anymore—he was barely a person, and beating him was far too easy. He muttered that damned curse over and over, and didn’t stop until he could barely breathe. They weren’t his last words, though.”
The captain paused, his gaze faraway, and I seized the opportunity to gather my thoughts. No wonder our port had quieted after Blackbeard’s death; clearly, the pirates had far more pressing matters to attend to.
When Cedric spoke again, it was in a voice rough and ragged. “It seemed Jamie chose to finish what Blackbeard had started. He told me I’d won, urged me to take what was mine, so I did… but it was never mine to take. Jamie had changed the rules, amplified our father’s curse to a whole new level. To truly break it, an owner of one of the shards needed to be the one to piece them together. Anyone else, and the curse would spread out of control. My brother died laughing—literally. The day I emerged with the medallion intact was the day everything in Neverland began to die. I became trapped here, as did everyone else.”
The gold suddenly weighed much too heavy in my hands. Swallowing, I placed the heirloom back on the table, seriously doubting it was worth what it had cost to retrieve and piece it back together.
“Blackbeard’s curse started off as revenge, but Jamie’s curse—the one I set off— was different.”
This caused me to do a double-take. “Wait… you’re saying it’s a second curse?”
Cedric sighed impatiently. “Yes. Keep up. It’s the words Jamie wouldn’t quit saying. ‘Disturb my sleep, invade this tomb, and you will reap the greatest doom.’ Self-explanatory—as the one who triggered it, his curse afflicts me worst of all. This is where things get interesting: ‘A debt in blood, a promise sealed. Only once cut will all be revealed.’” Cedric flashed his hook. “Well—certain things were revealed once Peter cut off my hand.”
I raised an eyebrow, more than certain he deserved it. “Like what?”
“He hasn’t told you?” Cedric laughed darkly. “Whatever you may choose to believe, I’m far from the only monster in Neverland. Peter is as bloodthirsty as they come. I may have taken more than my fair share of lives, but never once have they suffered more than was necessary. Ask any one of my men; I’m nothing if not clean. Peter, though, is guilty of torture. He’s particularly fond of setting impalement traps, but he won’t finish the job right away. He’ll allow his victims to suffer, often for days.”
My mouth parted slightly before I caught myself. “You’re lying.” He had to be. The Peter I knew simply wasn’t capable of this, and surely I’d have come across evidence of such traps by now.
“I wish I was. I’ve lost far too many men to his cunning.”
“As he lost boys!” My hands balled into fists as my temper began to boil over. “So tell me—who started the killing? Who was here first?”
Cedric’s lips curled into a snarl. “What does it matter? Killing is killing, blood is blood.”
“He was, wasn’t he?” I demanded. “So whatever he’s done to you and your men, he’s done in self-defense, probably to protect those under his care. To—”
“Survive,” Cedric finished. “Just like me. But there’s more to that, too, so hear me out. ‘Let thieves beware this sacred place. No man be spared; all share the fate.’ Another line that explains itself. My actions cursed everyone who occupies Neverland, not just me. ‘With sea and breath, I curse ye twice.’ Because it’s the second curse, Jamie’s curse; not only that, but I believe this refers to myself and Peter. I’m the sea, he’s the breath. The life. He didn’t explain that either, did he?”
I shook my head, too furious to speak.
“There are whispers among my men that Peter is immortal. Many a plot has been devised to trap him, wound him, anything that might lead to his capture and subsequent death, but he’s not only evaded us—he’s cheated us. I don’t want him killed unless it’s by my hand, my way, but we’ve been forced to use increasingly lethal force. He’s been shot, drowned, presumed dead many times… but he always comes back. If that’s not ‘breath,’ I don’t know what is.”
“You’re wrong.” I pushed myself off the desk. “He’s no immortal—Peter is cursed just like the rest of you. He nearly died just the other day. I was there. He’d be gone if I hadn’t saved him.”
“How fortunate,” Cedric said flatly, “but forgive me if I continue to trust what I’ve witnessed with my own eyes. And speaking of death… ‘Death pays for death, but life has no price.’” He paused once more, regarding me intently. “Tell me, Wendy… What is the interpretation of that line?”
“Me?” Mind racing, I rifled through all I’d learned for answers, thinking aloud. “If Peter truly is life, as you say, then… you’re death? You pay for yourself?”
Cedric snorted. “Any daughter of mine can do better than that.”
“You said I wasn’t your daughter—”
“Don’t be smart, girl, that ship has sailed,” he snapped. “Out with it.”
“Death pays for death,” I whispered, scrambling for an answer. I recalled the Nightstalkers, my days with Peter, and now the pirates. One theme stood out. “Here, killing is healing. Death can reverse death.”
“Better. Keep going.”
I continued muttering, as if mad. “Life has no price, so it can’t be bought. Things that aren’t bought are stolen, but that can’t be right, that’s what got us here—”
“Today, Wendy—”
“What isn’t stolen is given.” Triumphantly, I turned to face him. “You need to give the medallion back!”
Horror crossed Cedric’s face. “What? If it were truly that simple, I’d have done it years ago. No—Jamie’s curse demands blood. I don’t want Peter dead because I need to kill him at Blackbeard’s tomb. The only place an immortal boy can be killed.”
It was my turn to gape. “How the hell did you come to that conclusion?” Was Cedric truly so fixated on violence that he’d convinced himself there was no other way?
“It’s in the curse itself: life has no price. Peter has no price. He can’t be coerced, captured, or tricked; I’ve already tried that and failed. He must come willingly to his death. It’s where you come in.”
Oh, gods. “Me?”
“For the good of Neverland, you must get Peter to the tomb.”
I couldn’t breathe as I stared at the monster before me. Cedric expected me to betray Peter to pay for his mistakes? If Cedric truly believed that, he’d gone as mad as Jamie. “You’re wrong,” I said, voice hollow. “Peter can come and go as he pleases, so that means Neverland is done with him. He can’t be needed to break the curse.”
Almost before I finished speaking, Cedric slammed his fist on the desk, right in the space I’d occupied moments before. I flinched at both the physical violence and the vehemence his tone. “Sixteen years, Wendy. Sixteen years I’ve been trapped here, rotting away at my very core. Do you think I enjoy killing? That I relish in what I’ve become?”
There was no way in hell he’d like my answer.
“I’ve gone over it.” Cedric turned away as suddenly as he’d lashed out, muttering almost to himself. “Done everything I could think of and more. I’ve poured over the clues, scoured that damn tomb as much as I could stomach, read my father’s letters so many times that they’r
e now committed to memory. I’ve tried countless times to sail away from this wretched place. Nothing. I’ve learned nothing other than what I’ve just told you. That boy is special—the key to Neverland as well as freeing it from what I’ve done. I don’t know why Jamie chose him. Perhaps they had a feud of their own, but I no longer care. All that matters is him… and you.” Cedric faced me again with a haunted look in his eyes. “You must do this.”
No. I simply wouldn’t. Over my dead body—
“It will be far easier than you think. I wager Peter has told you all about his precious map?”
Though I’d still said nothing, it seemed that the look on my face betrayed me; it was the one thing Peter had told me.
“It’s somewhere in my father’s tomb—he collected all sorts of maps. A pity Peter will never find his witch… but you and I both know he’d risk everything for the chance. Especially if you were with him—‘Neverland’s chosen,’ the one the Nightstalkers whisper about. With you by his side, he’d feel truly invincible. He wouldn’t suspect a thing.”
My mind was spinning. I’d assumed the map to have been literally lost, not hiding in plain sight this whole time. No wonder Peter would rather venture into my world in hopes of a replica—visiting the tomb was suicide.
Cedric sighed dramatically. “I know hearing this is difficult for you, but I’m afraid I require an answer, and quickly. It’s getting late.” He crossed his hook over his good hand. “We could cast off this evening, arrive at the tomb as soon as tomorrow, and the curse would be broken before it afflicted you too badly. Though you crave violence, you’re not quite ready for your first kill.”
Oh, I very much was. The issue was my knife to his gun. Though my dagger practically screamed to be put to use, I’d be dead before I took a full step.
My continued silence prompted Cedric to continue. “Remember, Wendy… one for the many.”
A Land of Never After Page 9
