My vision blurred and I wiped my sweaty face with my palm. I blinked and focused on Bear Claw, who sat between Tiger Lily and their father and drummed the cadence. He swayed with the intensity of his cold hate and there was something I found respectable about that.
My sight darkened again as I was lulled further into a waking sleep. I felt myself draw breath and push it through my throat, adding my voice to the chorus. The beat of my dark heart matched the swimming rhythm of the ritual.
Then a noise broke my peace.
At least, I thought that it was a noise. I concentrated on it, trying to determine whether I was hearing with my ears or my tired mind. The noise grew louder and I began eliminating what it wasn’t. It was too light to be the chant of the elder or the beat of Bear Claw’s drum. The warriors’ voices were too gruff, even in their perfect harmony, and Tiger Lily’s voice was too soft. No, this was something else entirely.
It was a persistent, gentle ringing and it was getting louder.
A spike of panic drove through my chest. my eyes darted around and the world spun to catch up. I braced myself upright and eased the churning in my head. Several heartbeats of staring into the grass settled my stomach. I raised my eyes and caught a glimpse of a light dancing on the outside of the tent. It jumped from one spot to the next in quick leaps. I followed it despite the sickness that returned to my stomach. Slowly it made its way to where the furs and skins of the tent parted.
The fairy peeked into the tent with curious eyes.
I tensed, my eyes still too blurry to pick out the details of this creature. Was this the fairy that blasted Noodler’s bullet into nothing? Should I tell these warriors of faith that they were misled? Was I certain that they were misled? Were these things gods? Are there gods? Questions poured into my mind and came out the other end as a pile of unanswered madness.
The light looped in the air towards the chanting elder. It paused before his face and seemed to examine him. The elder continued leading the chant and the fairy, now deep in a plume of gray smoke, began to sway in time with the rhythm.
The fairy fluttered above the boy. Its wings lit up in swirls of gathering sparks. Waves of light crashed against the boy and I screamed without sound. Wounds closed. Bones reset. Sparks of dust fell on the boy again and the bruises on his chest disappeared. Color returned to the boy’s face once more and he breathed deeply.
Then the fairy looked at me.
It zipped around my head twice and I became dizzy. When my sight settled, I found the fairy hovering in front of me, inches from my nose. Time stopped and I saw the green leaves, tattered clothing, short blond hair, and eternally vacant expression. In this moment, I wondered if Tinkerbell would finish the job she and Pan started.
Tinkerbell smiled. Sparks gathered at her wings and my stomach jumped into my throat. Light rained over me. Joints cracked and snapped loudly. Muscle knitted together and skin drew tight around it. Unlike the boy, I was awake as the light explored every ounce of me and, unlike the boy, I howled as my body mended.
It was over in a breath. The fairy left and darkness filled the tent once again.
Clarity returned to me. I patted my shoulder and leg, marveling at the immediate recovery. I drew out my arm from within my coat and found that, although I was still missing a hand, the wound no longer ached. At this, a small resentment crept into my thoughts.
I stepped out of the tent and straightened my coat. The fading light of dusk painted the sky in a blood orange. This would normally signal a hot day tomorrow. Here, there was no such predictability.
I climbed down a small hill to a pond of water beneath a tree that was overgrown with moss and vines. I looked into my reflection and collected my memories, mouthing every word carefully. “My name is Captain Hook. I was born James to Jonathan and Elizabeth. My father was captain of the Jolly Roger before me. Billy Jukes is my oldest friend. He and I grew up together. His father was a great man who served as first officer to my father. Emily Jukes was his sister. She is dead now because of Peter Pan.”
This time, as I concentrated on their faces, I saw only a parade of shapeless forms, save for Billy Jukes and Peter Pan who were as clear as daylight. Instead, I focused on the parts that spoke most about them. My father’s telling glances. My mother’s voice. Emily’s golden hair and green eyes. They were green. I recalled my final moments with each one of them as best I could, taking in the sounds of the forest.
Leaves rustled to my left. Two narrow forms appeared through the trees and disappeared again suddenly. I recognized both and instantly knew what they were doing. I quickly checked to be sure that my pistols were loaded, then followed Tiger Lily and the boy into the Crescent Wood.
Clouds rolled in, darkening the already difficult path. The trees were covered in moss and ivy that reached above a man’s head and the mud sucked my boots up to the heel.
She led him between the vines and over hills and he followed, though not as gracefully. Tiger Lily shrieked a laugh, then hopped over a fallen log and landed on a pile of leaves without the hint of a crackle. The boy talked equally as loud as he trudged through every twig and branch. I trained my ears to their amusement and kept my distance for several more yards.
Then all noise stopped.
I crept close enough to see them between trees some twenty yards away. The girl spoke too quietly for me to make out any of her words. The boy whooped and hidden figures whooped in response. One boy stepped out from behind a tree and cheered. Another boy did the same. And another. Soon, Tiger Lily and the boy were surrounded by the Lost Boys, fists in the air and smiles across their dirty, gaunt faces.
The clouds pulled away like a sheet and a warm sun kissed everything with heat and light. A shout of “Wahoo!” came from above them. Tiger Lily and the Lost Boys fell silent and looked to the sky as one. A steady beat pounded in my ears as I watched.
Peter Pan swooped down onto a low branch and called again at the Lost Boys. The boys raised their weapons high above their heads and shouted. Even Tiger Lily cheered him, pointing her dagger skyward.
The boy at Tiger Lily’s side ran up to Peter and called out to him. Pan bowed, then looked at him curiously as the boy continued talking. Peter’s eyes widened and he darted back and forth while listening to the boy’s story.
I felt for my pistol and drew it without a sound. I braced the upper part of my right arm against a tree and laid the barrel of my pistol over the crook of my elbow. I aimed for three breaths and began squeezing the trigger.
Then a light appeared around Peter Pan. The fairy swirled all about him, seemingly whipped up in all of the celebration. It fired off little bolts and sparks and the children applauded in shrill squeals. I pulled back behind the tree and assessed my situation. Outnumbered. Outgunned. Minus one hand and one hook. I tucked the pistol into my belt and walked back the way I came.
I took four steps before I was face to face with Tiger Lily.
“Why are you following me?” the girl asked, angry.
“I knew you could lead me to him.”
“Why didn’t you give him what you owe him?”
“I didn’t have it with me,” I said. “I’ll repay him soon.”
The girl’s brow and nose scrunched. “You want to hurt him.”
“Yes.”
“You are no better than Sewati,” she said. “He hates him. Hotah Ohanzee this and Hotah Ohanzee that.” Her hands motioned wildly and her voice cracked. I started to worry that our conversation would draw attention.
“Maybe we can talk more about your brother back at the camp.”
“Maybe,” Tiger Lily said. “Maybe no. Maybe I leave you here with your deception.”
I laughed.
“Why is there laughing?” she said more angrily than before. Her dark eyes sharpened.
“My little princess,” I said. “I have been more truthful with you than with any man I have known in a long time.”
“Even the green man?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said,
remembering my night with Gabriel. “I have been dishonest with him.”
“Dishonest?” she repeated.
“It is a form of deception,” I said. “Deception is like hiding something and hoping no one sees it. Dishonesty is telling someone that something isn’t there when it really is.”
“Deception you do. Dishonest you say,” she said.
I nodded with a shrug. “Mostly.”
The muscles in her face relaxed and her shoulders dropped slightly. She turned in the direction of the camp and looked back at me. “Come.”
Without the pain of injury from a one hundred foot fall, I kept up with Tiger Lily more deftly. Logs, vines, and bushes were all just terrain now, not barriers. I decided to knock down a few more barriers while my mind was clear. “Were your Spirits always the same?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did they always act so quickly?” I asked. “Were they always the way they are now?”
Tiger Lily paused for a breath. Her face twisted and she shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know or you don’t remember?”
“I know things used to be different, but I don’t remember how.” She started forward again. “Sewati says he does, but he can’t either. No one does, not even father.”
“But you recite your history,” I said.
“Words and song,” she said. “Anything more is dark and hard to see through like a cloud all around you.”
“Do your Spirits always come when you sing for them?”
“No,” she said. “Sometimes they don’t come. Sometimes they come and do horrible things. One time, a woman was having a baby. We called the Spirits to bless the birth. A Spirit came and saw the woman in pain, so it took the baby from the woman and carried it away, high into the air, and dropped it into the sea. We were very sad.” She looked at me and sighed. “Today was a good day with the Spirits.”
“We called them fairies where I am from,” I said. “They can do great things for you, if they like you. I’ve heard stories of fairies turning poor souls into princesses and bringing great fortune to those who deserve it. There is something of value to them, if they can be directed.”
“No one controls the Spirits,” Tiger Lily said.
“That’s exactly it,” I said. “Anyone who tries to direct them always winds up on the wrong end of their attention. A man doesn’t have to do anything to earn their ire. He just has to be present when they turn and they always turn.”
We continued walking for several moments in silence. Voices from the camp rose as we approached.
“It saddens me to hear about the baby,” I said. “Fairies only have room in their minds for one thought at a time, so they feel in extremes. Hateful, lustful, or hungry, if a fairy feels something, they feel it all the way and you don’t want to be around when that happens.”
“How do you know so much about our Spirits?” Tiger Lily asked. “Who told you all of this?”
I seethed. “Peter Pan told me this when I was young.”
“Why do you hate him so much?”
“I met Peter Pan for the first time when I was a boy. At first, I was excited and thrilled with the idea of adventure,” I said, stunned by how open I was being with this child. I paused for a breath, then decided to continue. “Little by little, my time with him took things from me. I grew up and I now see Pan for what he is. He’s chaos. He is a creature of the now, without regard for what came before and not a single thought for what his actions will bring.” I looked at her and saw the mixture of doubt and understanding on her face. “Your brother would understand.”
As I said this, Bear Claw shouted above the others. Tiger Lily’s head perked up and I watched her expression change from alertness to shock, then finally anger. She sprinted ahead to the camp. I broke into the clearing and found her talking with her father and brother.
“What is going on?” I asked.
“My brother has returned with news about the great fire,” she said. “Sewati went to find out what happened. The green man came up from ashes and killed three more of our tribe. He was at the center of where the fire started. We think that he was the one who started it.”
“That’s a solid guess,” I said. “How long ago did this happen?”
“Just now,” she said. “He’s trying to convince father to attack the castle.”
Tiger Lily talked to her father and brother for several heartbeats. Her brother motioned wildly and her father shook his head. She pleaded and her father shook his head again.
“There is a way in behind the waterfall,” I said finally.
Tiger Lily held her hand up and silenced her tribesmen. “How do you know this?”
“I’ve been in the castle before,” I said, realizing that I was opening myself up to many more questions. “My men are still inside. If Bertilak… the green man hasn’t returned yet, then they’re probably still alive.”
“Your men aren’t our concern.”
“Neither is your tribe my concern,” I said. “We can rid ourselves of a mutual problem.”
She talked to them and, this time, her father nodded.
Her brother walked over and locked eyes with me. He said something in their language and stared for several moments. He spoke again and the one she called Little Panther brought their ceremonial pipe with him. The small warrior handed Bear Claw the pipe and he offered it to me, along with a few more words.
“My brother says that you are very brave.”
“Men like he and I aren’t given much choice,” I said, taking the pipe. Still looking into the painted warrior’s eyes, I pointed toward the mountain. “First Bertilak.” I then pointed to the sky. “Then Peter Pan.”
The warrior’s eyes narrowed and he smiled.
“How soon are we leaving?” I asked Tiger Lily. Silence greeted me as an answer. I turned and caught a glimpse of her between the trees, followed closely by several warriors.
I checked my pistols, sword, and knives, then marched after them to the castle.
Chapter Fourteen
The moonless night pulled a dark curtain over the forest. The mountain gave off a faint glow, but not enough of one to light a path or even allow me to see more than a yard ahead. The half dozen warriors flowed through the forest as I snapped and crunched every branch and dead leaf I crossed. I huffed in frustration and continued south, keeping the mountain on my right side and being careful to avoid the flashing dots of light that danced in the night.
A hand slipped from the darkness and grabbed my wrist. Tiger Lily leaned in close enough for me to see her and pointed me onward. It was hard enough following her when I was hurt. I now saw how kind she was being, allowing me to see her at all.
The trees broke and I came upon the party, waiting and annoyed. The mountain glowed stronger here and Tiger Lily talked quietly with her brother. They stopped when I stepped into the rocky clearing as if I could understand them.
Tiger Lily looked at me, then up the mountainside. “We’ll go up, then around the mountain and behind the water,” she said. I followed her gaze to where the overhangs coiled south, roughly ninety yards from where we stood. Two warriors stood on rocks that stacked up the side of the mountain. Little Panther and one I didn’t recognize had already started the climb, hunched over onto their hands and feet. Water crashed in the distance and I nodded my understanding.
Bear Claw signaled to his warriors and they pounced onto the mountain. Tiger Lily followed, only a half-step slower. I bit down on my knife and scrambled after them, hand over forearm, for several minutes before the grips became fewer. The mountain grew steep, varying between forty-five and sixty degrees at points. Knowing these numbers didn’t help me climb, but they did soothe my nerves.
A wind pushed over the island and nearly ripped me from the rock. I allowed myself a look down and saw nothing but black treetops. I then fixed my eyes on the rock in front of me and climbed higher, toward the deafening crash of water.
I reached a narrow
landing and hoisted myself up. Spray from the falls misted the rock, adding a slippery and reflective sheen. I kept myself low and crawled to where I saw the gathered warriors.
Tiger Lily greeted me. Bear Claw and the warriors stood in silence as water poured down in front of me, violent and beautiful. With the falls now so close, speech was useless. Instead, I held my palm turned upward and asked my question with my eyes.
She pointed up and I saw where the falls started, only a few more yards from where we stood. She then pointed down and I watched the flow of water snake behind the well-lit castle and out from underneath it.
I asked another silent question and was answered by Bear Claw, who started the steep climb down behind the falls. One by one, the warriors followed and I was left standing on the narrow ledge.
With no one to reason with and no other option, I began a one-handed climb down behind the waterfall. I grasped with my left hand, felt for a foothold with one leg, and braced with the other. My right forearm extended out flat against the rock, hugging the mountain close to me. I tested each step before releasing my left hand to search for another hold.
The climb was slow. There was no varying degree of angle, nor was there any grip that wasn’t slick with mist or moss. I managed because I had to and because I had seen death too many times to let it simply wash me away.
Something clacked next to my head and I braced myself. A second clack told me the direction and I saw Tiger Lily on another landing behind the castle, throwing rocks. I worked my way down to her and found myself across from the rusting iron bars of Bertilak’s dungeon.
Bear Claw stood ready, Tiger Lily by his side, and stared at me in a way that said, “I got you here, now it’s your turn.”
I walked to the narrow ledge around the waterfall until I came to the dungeon bars. From there I saw three cells, each of which with two men, save for Gustavo who sat alone.
I called into the dungeon, but the falls drowned me out.
An arrow rushed past my ear and stuck into the ground between Smee and Starkey. The two men jumped to their feet, dragging long chains with them. They looked for their attacker and saw me at the bars and the painted warrior by my side. Smee said something and Starkey laughed. I tapped a finger to my ear and shook my head, signaling that I couldn’t hear them over the water. After a moment, Smee alerted the rest of the men.
Captain James Hook and the Siege of Neverland Page 10
