Foxglove had been so much more than an anomaly. As Rosemary shouted into the megaphone over and over, her tears turned to two constant streams down her face.
Several yards away, Peter was moaning under the net. If his impact were anything as hard as it looked, he would not be getting up on his own.
No, Gwen thought. Without Peter, there couldn’t be a resistance, could there? This was his army he was building. They needed him to lead them. It was his vision of Neverland that inspired them all. He was the infallible, the unconquerable… the one too clever to ever be defeated.
He stayed under the trap of the spider-silk as the officers closed in around him. They formed a tight circle, and Peter was only visible from where children hovered above. No one dared take on the special forces surrounding him, and most of them had enough trouble defending themselves from the rest of the adult platoon. Gwen circled at a distance, dodging fire and waiting for an opportunity to help.
She should have known better and stayed away like the rest of the children. Peter didn’t need her help at all.
“Hahahaha,” he laughed, theatrically tearing through the spider-silk net with his dagger. “You daft fools! Spider-silk doesn’t stop magic, it only hides it!” On his feet faster than they could react, he announced. “I’ll fight you all at once! With an arm tied behind my back and my fingers tied in knots!” He jabbed one of them in the arm before leaping into the air above them.
“Leonard, are you okay?”
“My arm!” the black coat yelled. “The kid just stabbed me in the arm!” He wiped a thin trail of blood with his glove, amazed that Peter Pan was as reckless and lucky, as cocky and dangerous, as any and all rumors claimed.
Gwen’s pride was quelled when she felt a hand on her foot. With the same trick he’d used to bring Peter down, Starkey now had a hold of her. He yanked her foot—it took far less to destabilize anxious Gwen. Toppling down, he half-caught her and pulled her into a hostage’s position, his sword’s blade inches from her neck.
“Peter!”
“Pan!”
They yelled simultaneously, but their tones conveyed wretchedly different sentiments.
Peter forgot his bravado and fight with the Anomalous Activity agents. In an instant, he was over Starkey’s head and landed a good two yards behind him.
“Careful, careful, careful…” the pirate cautioned. “Another step closer and I’ll slit her throat. That goes for all of you!”
The adults were at a loss. They weren’t expecting someone sinister to show up to their carefully planned battle. As viciously as they wanted to suppress magic, they were not prepared to use lethal force against children. They didn’t want anyone killed over this skirmish. Peter, however, was accustomed to high stakes and murderous pirates.
Gwen wrestled in his grip, trying to pry his arm off her. It was no use. The cagy teacher was older and stronger than she would ever be. “Peter!” she gasped.
“It’s very simple. I want my son back.” Starkey nodded up to the sky, but didn’t let his eyes leave Peter. “Bring Twill down and I’ll let her go. It’s that easy. Then the rest of you can all carry on about your squabbles.”
Starkey stepped aside. Gwen could see him now in front of her, but she still felt his grip immobilizing her. Glancing down, she saw the hands of his shadow on her neck and realized the hand she felt holding her was that of his dark double.
Starkey walked in the moonlight, but only his sword cast a shadow. “Have we got a deal? Or will I have to kill you and negotiate with one of your lost boys?”
Peter dropped his dagger to the ground. “I won’t hold any boy back from Neverland. If you must kill me, kill me.”
He held his hands out at his side, presenting himself for slaughter.
“Peter, no!” Gwen cried, but a shadow clapped over her mouth, and she was forced into silence.
Starkey was enraged by this response. His request was in every manner reasonable and mature, so he cursed the unreasonable boy who would sooner die than handle a situation maturely.
He raised his sword with a furious cry, but Peter didn’t give him a chance to strike. Launching into the air, he sped full force toward the sword and grabbed Starkey’s wrists, forcing the sword back and pushing it down. Gwen’s lungs belted a horrible scream that remained trapped in her mouth and behind the shadow hand as the blade of the sword came inches from her. There was no impact. Not with the physical sword, at least.
The shadow of the sword slashed down and cut into the foot of Starkey’s shadow. It recoiled like a wounded animal, and went back to its master’s feet for protection and repair. Gwen was freed just in time to see her own shadow.
Her shadow had suffered much worse in the strike. Severed at the right foot and punctured at the left, it writhed in a pain Gwen couldn’t share. She reached down and clutched at it, but there was no touching a shadow. It pulled and pushed away from her foot, and as Peter picked up his dagger and resumed sword fighting with one of his oldest enemies, Gwen watched her shadow detach from her altogether. It fled from the body that had allowed it to come to such harm, and she chased after it. “Wait, come back!” she called to it. Unlike the adults, she had no masterful manipulation of her shadow. She couldn’t control it at all.
Rosemary defended the last of the fairies. On the ground, Blink ushered the few remaining children out of the perimeter on foot with Newt and Sal’s help. From there, they were able to fly again and make their way to Neverland. Twill, at last, was escorted away from what remained of his reality. Spurt was roped into Jam’s plan to divert the officer’s attention from Peter while he finished his fight with Starkey—a pirate who had already lost his battle. As all of these glamorous roles were fulfilled and the evening drew to a heroic close for all, Gwen chased her shadow far away from the victorious scene and company of her fellow young soldiers.
Her shadow slipped over every surface it could. Gwen ran through the sky, wobbling up and down in an attempt to keep it in sight. Sometimes, it disappeared into other shadows, but Gwen kept flying toward it until it panicked and dashed away. The sound of the battle behind her faded, and the lights of fairies and patrol cars became an ephemeral glow nearer to the horizon than her, it felt. Everything was worlds away as Gwendolyn Hoffman chased after a part of her that—like so much of her—seemed to want nothing to do with the choices she was making.
There was an enviable simplicity to chasing her shadow. After so long trying to follow her heart, the act of moving after the two-dimensional and monochromatic shadow was in some ways relieving.
The stakes were too high for Gwen to appreciate this. She was busy avoiding telephone wires and house awnings. She didn’t stop to wonder what life would be like without a shadow, or pause to consider it might make its way back to her eventually. Tonight was her last night in reality, and she didn’t want to abandon a piece of herself, however frivolous, to grow old without her.
The shadow was unimpeded by the landscape of suburbia. It climbed the fences and walls of houses as easily as it raced across their roofs and swam through the broken surface of swimming pools. It moved on land as Gwen moved through air, and an onlooker might not have known the girl and her moonlit shadow were separated at all.
Obstacles became easier to dodge as they left suburbia. Houses became fewer, and the residential area turned to sparsely developed country. She knew they were heading back the way they had come earlier in the night, but her thoughts churned slowly as she focused on keeping her shadow in sight. If she blinked at the wrong moment, it would be gone. Was it trying to return to the perceived safety of Tiger Lily’s house? Gwen couldn’t imagine what motivated a shadow.
She lost it once, as it dove into the tall grasses alongside the highway out of town, toward the reservation. Cutting a path as the crow flies, the shadow made the shortest distance of a long trek.
Their route left the authorities further behind as well. A panicked Dillweed tried to keep up with her, afraid for what would happen if she got isola
ted without a native of Neverland to guide her home. The Anomalous Activity Department had no intention of letting her get away that easily. She was wounded—that made her an easy target. Sirens came screeching after her, but she was faster than fairy or authority. Blazing off on her own, however, meant she left a distinct magical trail away from the scene. Dillweed persevered, determined to catch up to her before the authorities did.
The shadow passed the reservation and wrapped around the edge of the forest to the entrance of the state park. Barreling down the path, it lost its shape among the shadows of the tree canopy stretching over the dirt trail. The abstract motion was all Gwen could track with her eyes. Why didn’t it just dart into the forest? It could catch its breath—if shadows even had breath—or lose her for good in the totality of shade beneath the tree canopies. Did it want her to chase it?
The trail from the park’s entrance to the lake was not long, and Gwen prepared to pounce on her shadow as soon as they hit the clearing around the lake. On open flat ground, she stood a chance of catching up, dropping down like a bird of prey, and hopefully trapping it under her.
How she would attach it again was beyond her. If she could only hold onto it until she was back to Neverland…
Her eyes glued tight to the shadow, she watched as it flew toward the maple tree and distracted her by putting a boy in her peripheral vision.
Leaning against the tree, Jay was relaxed in a handsome sweater as if everything was right with the world. “Gwen,” he called, his face lighting up.
It was too much. The new stimulus brought too many thoughts and short-wired her single-minded purpose of catching her shadow. The consequences of her actions hit her as hard as the ground did when she toppled out of the sky.
“Whoa!” Jay dropped the giant sketchbook he had tucked under his arm. Approaching Gwen, he offered his hands. “Nasty fall. You okay?”
She put her fingers on his palms. He held her and helped her to her feet, pulling her into a hug. Over his shoulder, Gwen could see their shadows clinging to each other on the bark of the maple tree.
“Oh no,” she muttered. She’d forgotten about Jay. In her blind desire to catch her shadow, she hadn’t seen how she was trapping herself. The sirens in the distance weren’t catching Jay’s attention yet, but he would hear them soon. They were getting closer.
“You came,” he said, smiling.
“It’s a mistake, it was an emergency, I had to get to the lake… you shouldn’t be here!” She felt like a crazy woman, babbling at Jay with her wind-tangled hair and dirt-smudged dress.
“It’s okay. I know you have to go,” Jay told her, grabbing her and steadying her. “I just wanted to give you a parting gift.”
He let go of her and walked back to the tree where he’d left his sketchbook. Her shadow followed, clinging to his on whatever surface it appeared, its posture screaming, Don’t make me leave.
“No, you’re not going to be able to get out in time!” She put her hand to her mouth and bit her fingers between her teeth, trying to focus. “They’re coming for me.”
Her frazzled concern began to register with Jay as the product of a serious problem. “Who—the police? Like the ones at the party?”
“Yeah. They can follow my flight. They’ll track it here.”
She wished she could pick him up and fly him off somewhere far away. So many people who loved her protected her. Why couldn’t she protect someone else for a change?
Anywhere he went on foot, they would be able to catch up. Anywhere he went with her, they would be able to follow.
“I’m only in a park after dark. It’s a misdemeanor charge at worst, right?”
“If they find you while tracking me, I don’t think it will be good, Jay.”
“I can plead ignorance,” he said and smiled. “I’m kind of surprised I haven’t gotten in more trouble for running around with the unbelievable Gwen Hoffman.”
This would make the second time Jay was found at the scene of Gwen’s disappearance. Just because the black coats hadn’t pressed any of their secret charges against him after the party didn’t mean they would forget him. From a grown-up’s perspective, Jay would appear to be aiding and abetting her escape every time she needed a hand getting away from them… and the Anomalous Activity Department would not take kindly to that. The sirens were audible to both of them now. Jay was no longer comfortable.
“I need to get you out of here,” Gwen announced. Her priorities shifted. She could take whatever came of getting caught… she’d made her decisions. Maybe now life was making a decision for her.
The one thing she knew was that she couldn’t let anything happen to Jay.
What were her options though? She looked around, but there was so little around them… the woods, the sky, the lake.
Hiding wasn’t an option. She’d seen just last night how rigorously adults could comb these woods. If they released drones again, then magic wouldn’t even matter. They would be able to trace Gwen’s magic to Jay like bloodhounds with a scent.
The woods. The sky. The lake.
There was no way for her to get him in the air. He was too far gone and grown up, and it would only make things worse if they found him covered in incriminating fairy dust. He was grounded.
The woods. The sky. The lake.
The lake was as still as glass. The stars floated in its liquid looking glass.
She knew what it would take to get Jay out, and she knew what the price would be… but she could not imagine the cost.
“Come on,” Gwen told him, striding toward the lake “We’re getting you out of here.”
“Where are we going?”
“I don’t know.” She rooted through her purse. “I can’t go with you though. I have to get to Neverland.”
“What’s that?” Jay was as enchanted as anyone would be upon seeing a mermaid scale for the first time. Between its iridescent colors and the moonlight, the scale shimmered with a beautiful silver rainbow. “A calling card,” Gwen replied, chucking it into the water. She threw it shoddily with her right hand—she still wasn’t used to being left-handed.
Dillweed finally caught up to Gwen. His wings exhausted, he saw her and flew into her face. He didn’t even care that a grown-up-ish person was standing beside her.
“Gah!” Gwen yelled, surprised by the stimulus of a bright green fairy shaking her face and yelling at her. Dillweed loved her too much not to yell.
“Get in my pocket, we’ll leave soon.” She pulled him away from her face, pinching his arm gently with her fingers. He continued to fuss at her, but went peacefully into the pocket of her satchel.
“That’s a fairy,” Jay muttered, transfixed.
Laughter and splashing broke the silence of the lake. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen one before,” Lasiandra replied, propping herself up in the water, her hair still dripping wet. Jay’s jaw dropped. “Next thing you know, you’ll say you’ve never met a mermaid either,” she teased.
The mermaid laughed and splashed her tail, letting it catch the moonlight and reflect it in a hundred new colors. She enjoyed the look of baffled wonderment Jay gave her, but promptly ignored him. “Who’s this, Gwen?”
“This is Jay. We’re in trouble, Lasiandra.” The sirens had stopped approaching. They were in a static location, not far from them. She knew the patrol cars were stopped in the parking lot, and Anomalous Activity officers would be on the path to the lake already.
“How can I help?”
Gwen took a deep breath. “How fast can you get from here to warm waters?”
Lasiandra lifted a wet hand out of the water and snapped her slick fingers. “It wouldn’t take more than two minutes, if I stay in the waters of this world.”
“I need you to take him. The black coats are closing in. I can fly, but he’s trapped.”
She was grinning, and it was a concerted, failed effort to suppress it and feign surprise. “Oh, right now?”
“Yes, Lasiandra. This very second.”
> She looked down and back up. “I want to help, Gwen. I’m just not sure that I can without…”
The girl pulled her compact mirror out of her purse and snapped it open. Lasiandra saw her reflection… for once not in choppy waves or dim tide pools, but in a mirror. All cunning drained from her face as she was confronted by the key to her heart’s desire.
“You can have it. It’s a deal,” Gwen told her. “Promise me you’ll keep him safe, that you’ll take him home… that you’ll take care of him.”
“Gwen, wha—” Jay didn’t have words for the question he wanted to ask. His world was coming apart at its seams. His question didn’t even exist, only an abstract sense of being without answers.
“I promise, of course,” Lasiandra replied, lunging forward and emphatically uttering the words, as if insulted Gwen had to ask. But she wasn’t insulted. She was looking at the mirror. She was elated.
“Do whatever he asks within those constraints.”
“I will do anything within those constraints,” Lasiandra swore.
A second’s hesitation swiped at her heart, but it made no difference. Lasiandra had promised.
She tossed the compact mirror down to Lasiandra, who caught it in her hand as if she’d rehearsed her whole life for the chance to catch it.
“Take care of him. Don’t let any harm come to him.”
“I won’t let anything happen to him, Gwen.” She stared up at her strange landmaid friend, the first to ever endow her with so much responsibility, so much faith. “You’ve just given me a sky glass!” she laughed. “Don’t you trust me?”
“I do,” Gwen told her. “But I love him.”
“And I, you, my friend,” Lasiandra assured her.
“What’s going on?” Jay asked, unable to process their conversation as it rushed by.
Gwen grabbed him. “You need to go with her.”
“Where? In the water? It’s freezing!”
The Piper's Price Page 29
