How were we going to defeat the darkness? And according to the witch, Hook?
A small, slender boy bounded up to me—Feely, I recognized—and held up a biscuit. Before I could deny it, though, he pressed the bread into my palm and gently pushed me to sit at the foot of Pan’s bed.
“It’s not your fault,” he protested softly, looking over Peter’s lanky, sprawled form. It might’ve been funny to watch in any other circumstance, but not now. Now I just felt nauseas with regret.
I bit my lip, not knowing how to respond.
“Ya know, Peter wasn’t so bad. He’s a good guy deep down,” he explained, glancing at me through his lashes. “He’s got flaws, but he’ll be back. Evil never conquers. That’s just not how things work here.”
This boy was literally ten, yet ever so slightly, I found myself letting his advice warm me up.
He stuck out a hand, and his face brightened almost instantly as he sent a nice squeeze to my fingers. “Peter grew up trying to find you,” he said calmly. “So maybe there’s a good reason he brought you here to us.”
I looked at Peter, too, feeling so many emotions, all spiraling down to guilt.
Peter had sacrificed himself for his land, only trying to help them in the long run, despite the distractions, and had even faced his biggest fear in order to save it. I just hoped it was the right decision for himself.
There had to be a way to fix what I’d done.
Feely left me then to join the other boys. Lox, too, slinked to her own quarters, making me feel even more guilt ridden, and I was out of the energy to cry anymore. So with my legs curled under me, I was going to watch over Peter for the rest of the night as a sort of apology to them. I needed them to know how sorry I was, and I knew actions spoke louder than words, so I would fight for this, whatever this was, and I planned to win.
Peter seemed so peaceful, much like the little boy he still was inside.
I ended up falling asleep near his feet, thinking the words, I will, I will, over and over again until the dreams took hold of me.
Eighteen
The nurse fairies had put together a wheelchair of sorts for me to get Zane around in, and it definitely proved itself to be useful after having to push him all around wherever he needed to go, thanks to the inability to use both his right arm and leg. He was lucky I’d been kind enough to vouch for him to get this weird contraption so he could be more than just a lump on a bed. Why you might ask? Well, I was hoping he could help us figure out what to do next with the Peter situation, despite not knowing if Zane even knew much about Peter—or much at all in general.
As I’d aimlessly rolled him around the hideout, purposely avoiding Peter’s quarters, I explained what’d happened during the past few days while he’d been recovering. The whole time I talked of Peter’s sleeping syndrome, he didn’t make a sound, just nodded along. I kept talking, though I was cautious, still remembering my experiences with Zane in the hold of the Jolly Roger. He was a dangerous, capable guy who had something over me I couldn’t quite put my finger on. But I had a feeling he was also able to help us; he’d been places, seen things I hadn’t. I didn’t know much, but I did know inside his pack of things below, in the brig, I’d seen his journal. And that’s why I’d supported him continuing to stay with us now that Peter was out and Lox was in charge—to know if anything he’d discovered before we met might help us in solving the problem at hand.
Passing the kitchen for the third time now, I explained, “We don’t know what to do.” His wheelchair hit a bump in the floor, making us both wince. I stopped pushing him altogether after that. “A-and we need to wake him up.”
“You expect me to wake him? How do you suppose I’ll do that, sweetheart?” Zane snorted, and I purposely jammed my foot into his, sending his body flopping in pain. “Ouch!” he shouted a little too dramatically.
“You said you owed me. And I don’t know who else to go to,” I mumbled, before him now.
Zane seemed like he didn’t care, but instead of sassing me again, he just sighed. “Okay. What have you tried so far?”
Feeling a bit optimistic, I described feeding Peter through a small tube that I slid between his lips, making him swallow berry juices and chicken, which I’d beaten into a pulpy puree. I’d also pulled Peter from his bed three days before and laid him in the sun outside the Nevertree while I cleaned the interior. I beat the dust and dirt from the mats, washed all the dishes, and removed all the sheets from Peter’s and the Lost Boys’ beds, washing them in the spring near the Nevertree (careful of Naiads this time) and then left them to dry while Lox studied through all her books, trying to find a cure for the curse. But when I brought Peter back inside, his only change was the beginning of a tan; he was still fast asleep, and Lox had come up emptyhanded.
Now, as I blinked over to where he was sleeping, Zane began to tell me of his ideas. “I met the monsteress Medusa once. She didn’t have her head cut off like most people might think, so she definitely almost killed me.”
In school, I’d heard about her, always believing Greek mythology was just that. Myth. But now I was kind of scared of it all. Everything I’d once thought wasn’t real was actually here, in Neverland.
“Anyway…” Zane broke into my thoughts. “I know it might not work, but the only two known ways to kill her are to A) show her her own reflection, or B) cut off her head and use it as a weapon against other people—”
“We are not cutting off Peter’s head,” I interjected, but he just ignored me.
“Now, when it comes to witches, I only know of one way to beat them. Have you ever heard of the Wizard of Oz?” When I nodded, he continued, his dark hair falling limply onto his forehead, greasy from his lack of bathing. Silently, I prayed my hygienic appearance wasn’t as disturbing. “Well, when Dorothy poured water on the Wicked Witch of the West, she sizzled into muck and then died. Maybe if we ever come across this Rhiannon witch again, you should try it. And if she’s defeated, then usually all the spells she’s ever cast are undone. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?”
“It doesn’t work and she turns me into a pig,” I said blandly.
He laughed like I was kidding.
Before I could say something else, though, Lox came out of her room to meet us. “Nice to see you guys working so hard to help the cause,” she commented vapidly, scowling our way before heading for the sink.
Lox hadn’t been the same since Peter went to sleep, having to take over all his duties the best she could. Dark bags hung under her eyes, and she yawned a lot, obviously exhausted. I knew she wanted Peter to awaken as much as I did. Heck, he was expected to rally behind an army to fight in the upcoming war, but instead, he was in permanent dreamland. So Lox would have to make up for his duties, and she didn’t deserve all that on her shoulders.
But we didn’t have many options.
To steer clear of her bad mood, I told her, “We’ve been trying to figure out how to fix Peter.” Lox looked at me with pursed lips, doubtful, and I try to shrug off even my own feeling of apprehension. “It’s worth a shot.”
“How long did you say he’s been asleep?” Zane asked as I pushed his wheelchair up to the side of Peter’s bed, per the cripple’s request. He shakily heaved himself to his feet and then used the wall for balance, apparently tired of me pushing him.
“About two weeks.”
“And you’re positive the witch was from Sleeping Beauty?” he asked, leaning on the bed for support.
Nodding, Lox and I looked at him hopefully.
“Have either of you ever even read the story before?”
Lox rolled her eyes. “Of course I have.”
“I mean, I’ve seen the Disney movie,” I offered, only to get unamused looks from both of them.
Sitting now, Zane motioned back and forth between Peter and us. “It was originally an old fairy tale passed on from one generation to the next in the Mainland. Once characters on the Mainland are made up or passed on to other age groups, they come to
Neverland to live. When that story was first created there, the witch and the princess pretty much just poofed here. That’s the best way I can describe it. And they may not be anywhere near us, but maybe they’re in the millions of islands and unknown places of Neverland.
“At the end of Sleeping Beauty, the princess is awakened by her true love—by true love’s kiss. And then she got pregnant or something. But that’s beside the point.” His stony eyes trailed over Peter for a second or two, as if in deep thought.
It sounded so cheesy; I had to snort. Quickly, Zane flashed me a glare, and I stopped, turning my snort into a weak cough.
“Yeah, we know that. But don’t you think the witch would have learned from that?” Lox asked.
Zane wagged his finger. “No, she wasn’t the one who said the princess would wake up by true love’s kiss. It was the fairy guardians who put another spell on top of the witch’s, a loophole in the curse.” He waited calmly for Lox and me to catch on.
“Wait, who’s getting pregnant?” I asked stupidly, but no one was listening.
“His true love has to kiss him? Isn’t that a little cliché?” Lox asked.
“Is Peter going to get pregnant?”
“It’s just how the story goes.” Zane shrugged, looking over both of us carefully. It was strange having such a casual conversation on the topic of fairy tales and true love.
“This is all a little ridiculous,” I mumbled.
“It’s how things work around here,” Lox shot at me. I didn’t need to offend her when she was running on two hours’ sleep and deep hatred for me already, so I stayed quiet. She turned to Zane. “Do you think there’s something in the Sleeping Beauty fairy tale that could help us? Since the spell was altered originally by the Fairy Counsel? What if Merlin has the spells there, with the fairy tale?”
Zane just shrugged. “I guess you could try.”
I was hesitant about this whole plan. What if it ended up like every other situation I’d experienced in Neverland so far? From what I could tell, the Fairy Council was a lot different than the singular nurses back at the hospital. What if the spells weren’t in Merlin’s library? Would that jeopardize our success? What if we were wasting our time just going all that way to look?
Just as I was about to offer to stay back with Peter, Lox stood quickly to grab her large bag, the one she had with her most times I saw her nowadays.
“Then we’ll leave right now. Get your boots on, Mainlander,” she said while scrambling to tie up the strings of her duffel. “Zane’ll stay here.”
“A-are you sur—?”
“I can’t move very far anyway,” Zane grunted in a flat tone. “I’ll stay.”
That was very reassuring.
“Lox, are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked, holding my vest I had yet to tie on.
She shoved what appeared to be matches into her pack before standing to sling it over her shoulder. When our eyes met, hers were completely serious. “It’s the only one we got.”
I looked behind me at the sleeping Peter, tan, breathing, but otherwise still. I didn’t know if Lox was right, but I was too scared to fight against her determined spirit.
“I don’t think you have a say Mainlander. Let’s not forget who let Peter get to into this place to begin with.”
“It wasn’t the princess’s fault, Goldie,” Zane defended.
Sighing, Lox gave me a sorry look. “I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put the pressure on you. For some reason, I thought you’d be able to handle it. I was wrong.”
That stung, but we all knew it was the truth.
As Lox grabbed a spare blanket, she eyed Zane and practically growled, “You hurt Peter, even move him an inch, I’ll cut open each and every one of your wounds.”
And with that, Lox and I climbed out of Peter’s hideaway, one of us hopeful, the other uneasy. Very, very uneasy.
“Stupid Merlin and his magic,” Lox kicked a fern in frustration, stomping along still. “He always moves in the direst times.”
“What do you mean moves? That tower has to be at least a hundred years old,” I questioned, pushing my way through the vegetation.
Shaking her head, she growled, “Even older than that, yet the stupid cloaking spell on the place lets him change venues every once in a while. Since I’ve been Peter’s apprentice, he’s always been in one spot. But Peter warned me he might move sometime soon,” she glared at the trees around us. “It’s just amazingly lucky he picked this time of all times to do it.”
Winding in the deep forests of Neverland was hard for two girls like us—or at least me. The ever-present noises were frightening, and I could only imagine dark monsters watching us with gleaming eyes from the undergrowth. I’d brought one of Peter’s swords—the one with the blue gem—for protection, but Lox and I were too intimidated to even think about anything but moving quickly to find help. I kept my eyes out for possible cousins of the Nephilim my necklace had taken out the week before.
After a while, Lox and I had just about given up. There wasn’t enough pixie dust available for us to fly, not since Tinkerbell had gone into hibernation a few weeks ago (which I wasn’t too sad about, in truth). There wasn’t enough belief in the system to keep her going or supply us with pixie dust. Since Peter had gone to sleep, the pixie’s had retreated into hiding, taking their magic dust with them and a lot of hope, too. The whole island was starting to feel the lack of it. And too much un-belief, according to Lox, was a perfect moment for darkness to swoop in and take over. We just needed to fix things quick so that didn’t happen.
It’d been about four or five hours just wandering aimlessly in the Neverwoods, bugs biting us and underbrush scratching our skin, obviously lost. But Lox insisted she could find where Merlin had moved his tower.
When we climbed up a small mountain and almost tumbled down a cliffy hillside, each time attempting a different route, we only found it infested with some sort of danger or aggravating obstacle, like a major cliff (not again) or raging rapids (no thanks). Lox grew less and less hopeful, trying to follow her amateur maps and her own intuition. But it just wasn’t working; nothing was, even after she’d visited Merlin’s library almost a hundred times over.
Finally, we ended up in a moor about the size of my backyard back home in Chicago. I threw down my small leather backpack, kicking it in frustration. I was exhausted and angry. This wandering was just pointless, and as the sun began to set on the horizon, I knew we’d have to set up camp soon.
Lox stopped, too, and plopped down on a fallen tree trunk, pouring the last of my water into her mouth. I didn’t even have the strength to accuse her of her misdirection, getting us majorly off track, and stealing the last bit of my water. She was just trying to help, and I could only imagine how tired she was. So instead, I let out a long sigh and sat down next to her, defeated. We weren’t a very good team. But I was thankful I wasn’t stuck in the middle of the forest alone. Though, we wouldn’t have even gotten to this point if Lox hadn’t insisted she “knew the way.”
You wouldn’t have ever gotten to this point at all if you would’ve just done the right thing for once.
Suddenly, there was a rustling in the bushes, but I was now so used to noises I ignored it and scratched a mosquito bite on my arm instead. The rustling quickened, but I still didn’t care. If it was something that wanted to come eat us, then so be it. I just wanted to close my eyes and rest for one second without worrying about becoming wild beast chow.
But when Lox yelped, my eyes shot open just as a muscular hand clamped over my mouth. I didn’t scream—I knew already no one would ever hear—but I still freaked out, jumping up, clawing at the guy’s arm. As he dragged me back, Lox struggled with another man who’d been lingering in the shadows. I tried to think quickly, thrashing around in his grip. When Lox started to struggle against her captor, it clicked in my head. I could fight. I could fight.
Inhaling sharply, I sent my elbow back as fast and hard as I could manage, feeling it connect w
ith my abductor's ribs. He gasped, loosening his grip long enough for me to jump away.
Having floored her guy, Lox stepped next to me just as quickly. I pulled my sword, holding it up just in case they tried to come at us again. My breath was in my ears, adrenaline pumping throughout my body.
“Use your instincts, Lacey,” Lox told me, but I could barely hear her. My focus was on the men grunting as they got to their feet, now coming at us, breathing heavily.
But they were stopped by a sudden loud rattling of branches that came from above our heads. When Lox and I both looked up, a man flew down toward us, dropping from the sky. With a loud thump, he landed and looked in our direction.
My first thought was, Hell-o, Mr. Kidnapper, but then I had to remind myself that hitting on this guy was probably not the smartest thing in this situation. Tall, dark, and handsome was, though cliché, the best way to describe him. His features, chiseled and well-manicured, gave off a mysterious, dangerous air. Black hair, dark eyes. Possibly considered Middle Eastern if we were back in the real world, but his outfit suggested he was actually a knight. Pointed leather boots, mostly green attire, a large golden sword on his hip.
I almost laughed as he approached us, an apologetic expression on his face. I quickly regained my focus and tipped my sword in his direction. I hoped it made me look intimidating. Lox had another sword now and did the same.
“Please, miladies.” I found myself pausing at the sound of his British accent. “Do put down your weapons. I come in peace, unlike my crew here, who attacked you when I specifically told them to make a nice, easy approach.” He shot a dagger-rich glare at the two men who’d moved over to him, staring at the ground in shame.
Our swords were still held high, but I was just following Lox’s lead.
He blinked calmly. “I swear on my life we won’t hurt you. Er… maybe I should introduce myself. I’m Robin of Loxley,” he bowed, removing his cap, and I saw Lox perk up at the sound of his name.
Mere Phantasy Page 19
