A Land of Never After

by R. L. Davennor

  “…opened her stitches. I found her on the floor.”

  “She didn’t stay in bed?”

  “Of course she didn’t—”

  “I knew this would happen. Didn’t I tell you to come get me if you needed to leave?”

  “Because you’d watch over her better than I could? Not a chance.”

  Someone cleared their throat, interrupting the argument. “Lads, she’s awake.”

  “And can hear you,” I grumbled. Shifting, I attempted to sit up before a firm hand gripped my shoulder, stilling any movement.

  “Lie still. The feathers need to do their work.” It sounded like Peter, but I didn’t trust my hearing; not with the way I seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness.

  “What work? What’s going on? What happened?” Shoving the hand away, I blinked until my vision cleared. Peter knelt the closest, gaze clouded with concern. Behind him stood a woman that looked like Elvira… only she was clean. Not a single drop of blood marred her sharp features, and she’d even gone without the mask of war paint I’d grown accustomed to seeing, rendering her almost unrecognizable. Hovering near my feet was a tiny being—Tink. The fairy smiled, glowing brighter than I’d ever seen her.

  A scarred face, though the last to come into focus, sparked the first flash of true rage I’d felt since awakening.

  I curled my lip into a snarl. “You—”

  “He saved your life.” Peter didn’t quite sound like he believed it himself, but shot an arm over my middle to prevent me from reaching Hook regardless. “And we’ve struck a truce… for now.”

  “A truce?” I glanced between the men, more convinced than ever that I truly was stuck in some alternate reality. I’d plunged a knife into my own gut to keep those two from killing one another. Had it actually… worked?

  “It’s true.” Hook spoke as though afraid I might lash out again. “My desire to end Peter’s life has waned… for now.”

  “As has mine for his,” Peter mumbled, though less enthusiastically.

  I blinked in disbelief. “I really am dead, aren’t I?”

  Elvira raised a brow and the dagger I’d dropped at the same time. “Never knew a corpse to wave a knife around… well, at least not until a few days ago.”

  I flinched as memories of the tomb flashed in my mind. That, it seemed, had been real.

  “You’re alive, Wendy.” Hook didn’t come any closer as he spoke. “More thanks are due to Xephan than to me. Those are its wings covering you, healing you as best they can.”

  “Its wings?” Examining them closer, I inhaled sharply when I remembered the Guardian’s appearance. I pushed them away with horror. “You killed—”

  “No one killed the Guardian. Xephan willingly gave its life for yours.” Peter took one of my hands, squeezing gently when I didn’t pull away. “Just as you gave your life to break the curse.”

  A chill shot down my spine, and words caught in my throat. Weight I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying lifted from my shoulders, and I took my first deep breath in over a week. They wouldn’t dare lie about that. “It’s… broken?”

  Peter nodded. “It’s been three days since we entered the tomb, and no one has decayed. In fact, we’re healing.”

  Healing. They were whole. I glanced at the four once more, this time really looking. Hook and Elvira’s skin had always lacked a certain color; now, they practically glowed with life. Tink’s light lit up the room, and she zipped about with an energy I’d never seen. Warmth radiated from Peter, and the look on his face alone brought heat to my cheeks.

  I wanted nothing more than to trust it but couldn’t shake the burning need to understand. “But how? I had no idea what I was doing. I only stabbed myself to rid us of the corpses, and only because I saw no other way. They’d only feel pain if I felt it, too.”

  Peter frowned. “Does it matter? It’s broken, we’re safe—”

  My father raised his hook, cutting Peter off before speaking. “None of us can know for sure, but ultimately, I think your original interpretation of the curse was right. ‘Death pays for death, but life has no price.’ Something without a price isn’t bought or stolen… it’s freely given. As your life was.”

  I ran my hands over the blanket of feathers. “So… I did die?”

  Tink nodded. “Your ties to this world were completely severed until Xephan transferred its life force into you.”

  Life force… the phrase sparked recognition. The very first Nightstalker I’d spoken to had mentioned it, claiming stealing mine would do more harm than good.

  “It’s what kept us alive for so long,” Peter explained. “When we made a kill, our victim’s life force would flow into the killer, staving off the rot for a short while longer. Xephan gave theirs so you might live, but only thanks to Hook’s quick thinking.”

  I met my father’s gaze. “Is that true?”

  He glanced away. “All I knew was that Xephan’s magic was your final hope. It had spoken so highly of you that I found it difficult—impossible—to believe you’d simply been sent to your death. You are far too important… too good.”

  From the pain in Hook’s voice, I knew what he meant: too good to have come from him. I stared at my father in silence, and after a while, he lifted his head. His eyes swirled with emotion, and they were so wet that for a moment I wondered if he was about to cry.

  “All right, that’s enough for now.” Elvira’s voice shattered the silence, as to-the-point as ever. “Wendy needs her rest, and Peter, you mentioned she’d broken open her stitches?”

  Hook and Tink were sent away. Elvira gave her best attempt to convince Peter to join them, but he proved the more stubborn one. I was grateful she didn’t insist; having a hand to hold while the gaping wound in my abdomen was stitched closed was a welcome blessing. After wrapping me with fresh bandages, Elvira departed, leaving the two of us alone.

  Once she’d gone, Peter lifted his shirt, revealing his chest bindings with a grin. “We match.”

  That would have summoned a laugh had the action not been too painful. I settled for a nod, returning his smile. “We do.”

  He brought my hand to his face before clasping his other around it. Though the rest of our bodies weren’t close, the gesture somehow felt more intimate than if he’d hugged me. It reestablished what I’d feared had been lost between us forever—trust.

  Regardless, I felt the need to explain myself. “I’m so—”

  Peter shook his head. “No need. I’m the one who owes you an apology. I shouldn’t have assumed the worst simply because you’re his blood. We can’t control where we come from, nor choose our family.”

  “But I—”

  “You were backed into a corner. Hook tends to do that to people… I know that better than anyone. Why else do you think I cut off his hand? I didn’t want to hurt him, but he left me with no choice.”

  I let Peter finish before spewing my insecurities. “That doesn’t excuse what I did. I should never have agreed—never pretended to have agreed to his awful deal. I could have figured things out myself, spared you and Tink the danger…”

  My voice trailed off when Peter abruptly released me, rose, and spun on his heel. He strode across the room, and each of his footsteps sent another stab of pain through my heart.

  “Did… Did I say something wrong?”

  He didn’t answer. The silence became maddening as he rummaged through a slew of papers scattered across one of the desks; just when Peter had me convinced he truly did hate me, he returned with a rolled-up scroll. He placed it in my waiting hand. “Open it.”

  I gave him a quizzical look before obeying. The vellum was old and fraying but came undone easily. My eyes fell upon an intricate, detailed depiction of the seas beyond our shores, and I gasped as the realization of what I held dawned on me. “This is your—”

  “The map I’ve been se
eking, yes. It truly was hidden in the tomb, and it’s only thanks to you that I found it.” Peter knelt to my level before pecking my cheek with a kiss. “You did it, Wendy, and now I can seek out my witch. I’ll be able to go where I please without aging and keep my body this way forever!”

  A sob caught in my throat. “Oh, Peter—”

  “Will you come with me?” The question took me off-guard, as did the pure joy in his gaze. But I didn’t hesitate, and nodded before he’d finished the question.

  “Of course I will.”

  When Peter pulled me into an embrace, the tears I’d been holding back fell freely down my cheeks, and I suddenly wished more than anything I could get up and dance with him. I made a silent vow to do just that once I was better, and settled into the hug for now. Though I did my best to hide it, I grimaced once Peter released me.

  He pulled the feathers back over my shoulders. “Rest. I’ll keep watch.”

  “Watch for what? The curse is broken, and you and Ced—Hook—have a truce.” I raised an eyebrow. “Is that really true?”

  Peter nodded without hesitation. “It is. Though we’ve had our differences over the years, Hook’s main motivation for killing me was breaking the curse. Mine was ending him before he ended me. You, thankfully, solved that conundrum.”

  I smiled at both Peter’s words and the relief flooding through me. “You need your rest too, you know.”

  “I’ll sleep when you wake.”

  “Like hell you will. Go back to wherever it is that you’re staying and lie down. When I get up, I’ll want to begin planning our voyage. Can’t do that if you’re exhausted.”

  That seemed to click. “Aye, m’lady.” With a mock salute, Peter exited; I waited until I heard the door close.

  Surrendering to my body’s whims, I relaxed but didn’t shut my eyes. I’d slept quite enough in the past several days. Eyeing the dagger that had been placed back on the table, I made a mental note of how many steps it would take to reach it.

  I had one last thing to do.

  * * *

  Cedric wasn’t where I thought he’d be, and that made my task all the harder. Several hours had passed, but Xephan’s feathers still hadn’t healed me fully. The pain in my abdomen was bearable, but my legs remained weak, and I couldn’t get around without a crutch. I wasn’t accustomed to needing one, let alone aboard a rocking ship, and my armpit was on fire by the time I located him at the ship’s stern. Though my father’s back was to me, I could tell he’d heard me approach by the slight twitch of his head.

  Gathering my courage, I straightened my back and cleared my throat. “We need to talk.”

  He spoke over the roar of the sea. “Yes, we do.”

  Cedric hadn’t turned, but I nodded anyway, swallowing the lump in my throat. “We—”

  “Me first, Wendy.”

  I hadn’t come here to be treated like a child. “I approached you—”

  “The Jolly Serpent is yours.”

  I gaped, unsure I’d heard correctly. Out of all possible routes this conversation could have taken, this was one I hadn’t considered. “What?”

  “My ship.” Cedric turned, gesturing at the deck surrounding us. “It’s yours. All of it. I’m done here, and you need it more than I do. Especially if you’re planning on getting Peter to his witch.”

  I didn’t know what to say; evidently neither did Cedric, for he kept rambling.

  “It’s all been arranged. You’ll need to resupply before setting off on any significant voyage, but you have the gold to do it thanks to what was in Blackbeard’s trove. I’ve informed Mr. Smee, my most loyal man, of my decision to step down. He’s agreed to serve as your tutor until you’re experienced enough to captain the ship yourself. He’ll teach you everything you need to know: sailing, navigating, commanding, all of it. As for the rest of the crew… I can’t guarantee all of them will stay, especially now that they’re free to leave Neverland. I expect you’d want to replace some of them, anyway. Most are loyal, good men, but a few—”

  “You’re leaving?”

  I’d barely spoken louder than a whisper, but Cedric’s jaw snapped shut as if I’d shouted. We stared at one another for a good while, the gathering winds tangling our hair and coats around our bodies.

  At last, he sighed. “Yes. Elvira, too.”

  “Going where?” I wasn’t sure why I cared, but the question slipped out before I could stop it.

  “Back into town. We’re going to find out what happened to Scarlett… your mother.” Cedric fiddled with something in his pocket before pulling it out for me to see. Though he didn’t unroll the parchment, I’d seen it enough times to know it was the illustration he’d had displayed in his quarters all these years. “I’d let you keep this—would prefer it, actually—but I’ll need it to show others her likeness. I know she’s long dead, but I need to know how—”

  “Put it away before it gets wet,” I said quietly.

  He did so, but never took his eyes from me. There remained a good distance between us; although I’d intended to close it before the conversation had started, I didn’t know if that was what I still desired. The weight of what I carried had grown heavy in my pocket, and I suddenly didn’t trust that I had the strength to do what needed to be done.

  “Well?” Cedric’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Do you accept?”

  “Accept what?”

  “The ship. The captaincy.” He hesitated. “My apology.”

  I sucked in a breath. “Your apology?”

  The doubt I’d been wrestling with melted away. Face hardened into stone, I limped toward my father, whipping out the dagger I’d concealed in my jacket. Unsheathing the blade, I pointed it straight at him, all but spitting in his face.

  “You think I can be bought—bribed? That I’d forgive you just like that…after everything? You’re a monster. A devil. In addition to scheming and lying, you killed those boys in cold blood, and nearly ripped poor Tink’s wings off. You’ve threatened Peter more times than I can count and wouldn’t have hesitated to pull that trigger had I not fought like hell to stop you. Died to stop you. You’d have cut off my hand—you’d have killed me even after you knew I was your daughter. Your blood.”

  Cedric didn’t move; didn’t breathe. He stood unwavering, speaking only after I’d paused for an extended time. “Is that all?”

  “No, it’s not,” I snapped, touching the tip of my dagger to his coat. “Did you ever love her? Scarlett? Or is it guilt that’s kept her memory alive all this time—guilt that you stare in the face every time you look at me?”

  A single tear trailed down my father’s cheek. He had nothing to say in his defense, and that told me all I needed to know.

  I lowered my voice to a pained whisper. “I’m right, aren’t I? It’s why you’ve treated me like this. You pushed her away, and tried to do the same to me.”

  “I didn’t deserve her.” Cedric’s voice startled me. “And especially don’t deserve you. I don’t understand, Wendy. I’m not perfect, and Scarlett sure as shit wasn’t either. How could we have made something so good… so selfless? Someone who’d give her life to save those who’d see her dead?”

  Covering my hands with his good one, he pulled the dagger forward, pushing the tip an inch or two into his clothing.

  “Do it. I won’t stop you.”

  I looked up to watch another tear fall. Cedric trembled, but I knew it wasn’t from fear. His eyes were stormier than the sea, practically screaming the agony trapped within. Their message was clear: end this pain. He’d been subjecting himself to it long before I’d arrived; I was simply the catalyst.

  It would be as easy as a push.

  My breathing quickened and sweat dripped down my neck. I stood frozen, tormented by the choice I thought I’d already made. I’d gone over this. I’d weighed all the options and knew what I had to do. The wor
ld would be a far better place without Cedric in it, and clearly, the man was ready. He’d accepted his fate, made peace with death. He’d be with Scarlett soon.

  But if this was what I truly wanted, what he wanted—why couldn’t I move? It wasn’t as if I didn’t know what being stabbed felt like.

  “Wendy… it’s okay.”

  The reassurance stirred something in me, and I tightened my grip on the dagger. One push. One kill.

  I’d never have to again… but I’d also never be the same.

  Selfless. Good. Compassionate. Noble. Words that had been tacked onto my personality over the course of my life repeated endlessly in my head, each one only adding to the well of guilt that was bound to spill over soon. I gritted my teeth, suddenly loathing the way they’d painted me as some little blonde savior. Just because I hadn’t actually killed didn’t make me better than the rest; if anything, my bloodlust had only grown. Nothing had brought it any relief, nor sated the darkness that had found a home inside me. I was its vessel just as much as Cedric, and it was time I embraced it.

  It was time I became a pirate.

  Yanking the knife away, I raised it over my head, eyes blazing with fury. My father closed his, releasing a single breath before going still. I cried out as I brought my arm down, burying it deep into my target.

  Cedric’s eyes flashed open, chest heaving as he glanced at the dagger poking out of the rail beside him. Blinking in confusion, he began, “I don’t underst—”

  “I accept.”

  “What?”

  “Your offer, of course.” Channeling Elvira as best I could, I sank into an exaggerated curtsy, my tone mocking his. “The ship, the captaincy, your apology. I accept everything, Father… on one condition.”

  Cedric faltered a bit at the title but nodded. “Anything.”