Mere Phantasy

by Ashley Lauren

  Now finally approaching the tent, we were stopped by a very large, very tall, and very scaly man. He could’ve easily been half lizard, half man, which, as he spoke, I assumed he was.

  “What brings you to the general’s tent?” he asked, every one of his S’s pronounced longer than any normal person’s due to his very elongated pink tongue.

  Zane nodded, the curt nod I was beginning to realize he was accustomed to. “We need to talk to Jack. We have some news on Peter.”

  The lizard dude told us to wait there after a menacing glare that made me so nervous I could feel sweat gathering at the nape of my neck. He then ducked into the tent through a large open flap, leaving me and Zane to wait patiently.

  “What’s he—” I started.

  Zane cut in. “Lizard Man.”

  I nodded slowly. “Of course he is.”

  Lizard Man returned soon after, before I could ask any more questions.

  “Come in,” he croaked, and I gave Zane an uneasy glance. He just winked at me before going inside and leaving me to my own devices. So I wasn’t left alone with Lizard Man, I ducked in quickly after him.

  The general, or what I thought was him, stood on the other side of the tent at a desk, leaning over it, studying something. He didn’t look up as we were escorted to two chairs in front of him. In the next few awkward moments of just sitting in silence, it was clear the general was no older than Zane and still had a bit of a baby face. I guessed it technically made sense; Peter wouldn’t make a grownup his general. He hated adults.

  Jack was tall, very tall, with lanky arms and long legs that poked out from under the desk. He had short, spiky black hair and thin eyes. I couldn’t get a good look at his face, so intent at looking at something on the desk as he was, shoulders hiked up like he was too lazy to lift his neck.

  Zane just lounged in his chair, tapping his long fingers on one of the armrests.

  “Zane Thomas.” Jack’s sudden welcoming greeting startled me as he lifted his head to look us over. His dark-brown eyes studied us, the lantern poised on his desk reflecting in his irises. He rose from behind the desk, folding his arms with amusement. “Nice to see you again, my man. Who’s your friend?” he asked, attention finding me.

  I was surprised to hear Jack’s voice; it was soft, almost a purr. I’d thought the general would’ve been older, very hardy-looking, quite possibly sounding very A-holeish whenever he spoke.

  “Lacey. I’m Lacey.” I cleared my throat, momentarily covering my mouth with a fist to cough, hoping it’d hide the crack in my voice.

  He leaned back, looking pleased. “Ah, so you’re the Mainlander everyone’s yapping about. I’m glad you made it here safely. No troubles on your way, I hope?” Jack asked before he sat back down and reached to take a sip from the cup positioned next to the lantern. I had a feeling his real question was, No dark monsters attack you along the way?

  “It was fine,” Zane said. The way he was sitting reminded me of the all the wealthy businessmen in the crime shows I watched. As if ready to make a deal, he seemed to feel perfectly comfortable in front of the general like this. But as for me, I felt like a scared puppy dog, sitting with my ankles and hands clasped in front of me, trying not to shake from nerves.

  “Good, good. Now…” He looked at us expectantly. “What can I do for you two?”

  Zane cleared his throat, about to start some long, pompous speech, but I cut him off.

  “How old are you, General?” I practically blurted. I knew it was a rude question, but yet again, I’d let myself speak before thinking.

  His eyes narrowed only a little. “Seventeen.” He coughed to cover what I thought was a laugh.

  I wanted to roll up right there and die. I so didn’t belong in this sort of atmosphere.

  Zane shot an accusatory glare my way. Then the general spoke again, something apparently catching his eye enough to change the subject. “That’s a nice piece of jewelry you got there.”

  Social confrontations were just not my forte, and even more so when the attention was on me. I cleared my throat again, looking down at my locket. “Huh? Oh yeah, this. My mom gave it to me when I was younger, before she… disappeared.” I’d learned my lesson not to go off babbling about the “weapon,” around my throat.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” He frowned, nodding, taking in the information as if it surprised him. “Now, back to business. I won’t lie to you, Miss Rose. I expected you to be older, like the last girl Peter brought with him. But you’re still just as lovely as Peter yawped about.”

  The remark shocked me. Peter told him about me? I felt my cheeks grow warm, annoyed with how the general kept looking at me.

  He got to his feet now, studying us both. “Just definitely not what I was expecting.”

  “You knew we were coming?” I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

  “Not when you were, but that you’d come eventually. Peter left me this letter.” Jack moved to a large shelf on the wall to pull an envelope from the stacks of books. He tapped it on his hand as he walked back to us, studying the ground.

  “It told me what I needed to know,” he explained, throwing it onto the table and leaning on the edge again. “As you know, Peter is—well, asleep, and therefore, that presents us with a problem, now doesn’t it? I can’t lead an army myself. Peter has never exactly… let me take charge of this war. In his letter, he said he had another person in mind—if he might fall. Even though he knew he wouldn’t.” I saw Jack’s frustrated amusement at Peter’s stubbornness, but I didn’t smile.

  My heart began to pound.

  “What’s so important about this person?” Zane leaned forward.

  “Peter said they’d help me, that they could win this war…” A bit of darkness seemed to come over Jack’s expression, tilting his head with a toothy inhale. “Better than I could.”

  My stomach was in knots now. I had a very, very bad feeling about what was about to come.

  “But you’re the general,” Zane pointed out, foot perched on his knee, bobbing away in his large tan shoe.

  “According to him, I can’t lead my people into war without this person.”

  “Who is it?” I blurted, unable to take the suspense anymore. I was cut off anyway.

  “He wants you, Lacey,” Jack said abruptly.

  Right.

  Jack continued while I laughed in shock. “Now, I know you don’t have training and have never fought a battle before, but all you need to do to in order to carry out Peter’s wishes, as illogical as they are, is to raise the flag at the beginning of the war.” He watched me, waiting for a reaction.

  “No,” I said.

  Zane’s surprised look told me he thought I was crazy. But I didn’t care. “Lacey, it’s just a stupid flag. Just listen to Jack. He knows what he’s—”

  “No, no, I won’t. You can’t seriously expect me to lead an army. You know what happens to me if I’m under pressure, Zane. The enemy would capture me o-or something a-and…” I stumbled over my words and then looked at Jack expectantly. He didn’t get the message.

  “It’s what Peter asked of me, and we can’t go on without your help.”

  “I don’t care if Peter was six feet under and it was directed at me with his last dying breath. I won’t do it,” I argued with a frown, shaking horribly now. I knew they could sense the hurt in my voice—not anger. They also knew I didn’t mean what I said—not the part about Peter being dead. Hopefully.

  “I don’t think you understand, Miss Rose,” I cringed at the nickname Hook had given me. Jack, seemingly frustrated with me now, came to stand in front of his desk and stare at me intently, his arms crossed. “I have a duty to Neverland, as their general, to use whatever means Peter has planned to beat the enemy, even if it is completely ludicrous, in order to win this war. And you’re part of that now. Believe me; if I didn’t respect his wishes deeply, I wouldn’t be asking you do such a thing. But it feels wrong to go against him while he’s… unwell.”

&n
bsp; My temper was flaring all over the place, and I finally had to take a deep breath to keep calm. “Right now, I’m responsible for Peter. I’ve taken care of him since he pricked his finger, trying to figure out how to find a cure o-or,”—I smoothed down my shirt and swallowed hard—“wake him up or something. So I think that gives me the right to grant you permission, General, to go forward and lead our army if Peter’s not back before the first attack.” Which he wouldn’t be.

  Jack’s eyes flashed anger. “You don’t have the clearance to do that. It’s against Peter’s orders.”

  “Peter isn’t here!” I barked, my face burning. I stood abruptly, quite ready to leave.

  “Ma’am, please sit down.” Jack glared at me, and it reminded me of Peter so much I could I have cried. The tears welled, anxiety building so badly in me that I didn’t know if I’d be able to stand this anymore.

  If I didn’t get out of there, I knew I’d do something I’d regret.

  “Lacey, wait!” Zane called after me.

  But I was already gone.

  Twenty-Two

  Rain. The water camouflaged the tears, but I paid it no attention as I ran. I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to run, hide. Get away from the lingering problems I was forced to face. I was good at that. Back home, I rarely left my room. I didn’t deal with confrontation. I didn’t trust people. But Neverland, it had whipped me up and around and then shot me back down again. Like my life was on a tightrope, I was struggling to stay upright with all this world was throwing my way. And all I wanted was to go home.

  The ocean wind whipped my wet hair as I ran back toward the forest. Thunder rumbled all around, lightning flashing above me. But I kept going, trudging through the sand and then onto the hard forest floor. I didn’t know where I was headed, but I wasn’t going to stop either. It was stupid, illogical to be out here amidst this storm. And as I realized this, instead of the right thing, I sucked in a breath to continue at a sprint, running at full speed through the Neverforest.

  Branches scraped my arms, shredded into my clothes, but I still kept going. It wasn’t as easy as one might think. I was practically dilapidated by then—nauseous, panting uneven breaths, barely able to get enough oxygen to my brain and aching muscles. Multiple instances, I tripped on unseen rocks or roots, almost face-smashing into the ground. But every time it happened, I just reminded myself I had to run. I had to get away.

  You can’t get away from your own mind. No matter how hard or fast you run, Lacey.

  I wasn’t expecting it, in my focused state, but when I heard a loud shout of, “Lacey!” from behind me, it completely distracted me for just a split second. So naturally, I didn’t notice the cliff approaching.

  My foot slipped first, landing just on the edge. Soil sprinkled into the humid air, muddy from the rain, and my body weight started to push me down with it. It wasn’t until a hand grabbed me in mid-scream, yanking me back, that I was able to coherently realize what was happening.

  I’d almost just fallen to my death. Again.

  Now the sobs came, uncontrollable, and the ugliest ever imaginable. Snot poured from my nose, and the water in my throat from gasping forced me to cough. I couldn’t help but let the fear take over. The fear that I’d almost flown off a cliff for the second time in my life, the dread that I was stuck here in this ruthless new land, without any way back home, still, and the absolute terror that I was being shoved into a situation of war—even if it were only to raise a stupid flag—that would bring death, pain, and anguish to others. I didn’t want to see that. I didn’t want to have any part in that.

  “I have you. It’s okay,” Zane said, holding me.

  I was surprised it was him, and I wasn’t comforted, despite his effort. Pulling away from him, I curled into a ball amidst the muddy forest he’d dragged me back into. The rain was slowing, but my crying wasn’t. I was shivering, my clothes drenched, torn, dirty. Particles of earth stuck to me, some in my hair, some making my skin itch. I couldn’t look at Zane, ashamed of letting him catch me. How did he find me? He must’ve followed me from the camp. And yeah, I was relieved he’d saved me from becoming a pile of bones and mushy Lacey at the bottom of the open ravine, but I was more embarrassed than thankful for it.

  “Lacey,” he panted, trying to catch his breath. “Why would you run? You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” Zane yelled over the sound of the wind whistling through the trees and the thunder in the distance.

  I blinked through the water in my eyes. He looked worried and just as dirty, if not more than I was. His pale skin practically glowed in the darkened daylight.

  “Go away,” I said through chattering teeth. But we both knew he wouldn’t.

  He scooted closer to me, the leather of his jacket squeaking in the process. “You’re being ridiculous. I’m taking you somewhere warm.”

  Helping me to my feet, legs trembling just as badly as everything else, he led me through the forest. I had no idea where I’d run off to, let alone which direction some sort of civilization might be. Then I hesitated.

  I shouldered away as soon as it came to mind. “Y-you aren’t taking me back,” I demanded, though it wasn’t very intimidating with how bad I was trembling.

  Zane rolled his eyes, walking over to me to grab my arm firmly. “I’m not,” he asserted, moving us through the woodland. After that, I stayed quiet and didn’t protest the rest of the way.

  The storm was slowly going away, as if it had just decided to weep on us the minute I ran from the tent. But now the sun was shining through the trees and water droplets landed intermittently on us as we passed. It didn’t matter anyway; we were both sopping wet.

  After a few minutes and a good round of chaffing later, Zane finally stopped us in front of a large tree. There were so many of those around this place that it didn’t surprise me in the slightest. But I was confused.

  “You want me to climb that?” I raised an eyebrow. I’d started to warm up a little, but the chill was still to the bone because of my wet clothes and the wind.

  He gave me an annoyed look before he pointed with one ringed finger. “Look there.”

  When I did, I saw stairs leading up the side of the tree, which I hadn’t spotted before. I gave him a sheepish smile as an apology and started after him toward the first step.

  I cleared my throat as I started up the bamboo panels. “Where’re we going?”

  “Up.”

  It didn’t take long before we were at the top, in the large branches that sprouted from the trunk like giant fingers. I was pretty surprised to see we’d enter a small yet perfectly accessible tree house. It had no doors, a few large cutouts for windows, and was furnished with a fire pit in the middle and pillows surrounding it. What was up with Neverland boys and tree houses?

  There were other personal belongings, too, making me glance over at Zane. He was frowning, moving toward the little woodpile in the center of the hut to work on it.

  “Wait, do you… live here?” I asked, gazing around once again, hugging my body tightly.

  Zane scratched some flint with a sharp rock until a spark began sizzling in the slightly damp timber. “Yep.” He struck the rock again and then blew into the small whisper of smoke. After a few seconds, a flame was born.

  I almost instantly went to my knees to get warm near it.

  After a few minutes of silence and watching him carefully as he treated the fire consciously, he was the first to speak.

  “The trick…” He pinched some sticks of wood and set them around the fire’s rim. His voice was slow, almost monotone. “With fire”—he glanced up at me for a second—“is to coax it. Slowly. If you go too fast… it’ll snuff out.” He still watched me, adding more ingredients to his pile. My throat felt tight. He was acting strange, mechanically placing things in the fire to help it grow. But he didn’t take his eyes off of me. “If you don’t work with its flaws and guide it where it needs to go, then you’ll be stuck with no fire to help you get your fingers back to normal temperatur
e.” He narrowed his eyes, leaning back now that the flames were flickering, full of life. “So where does that leave me, Lacey?”

  “A guy with very cold fingers?” I furrowed my eyebrows, obviously confused, since I’d thought we were talking about a stupid fire. When his look was annoyed, I said, “Why do you even want this war to happen? Why do you want me to help so badly?”

  “It’s what Peter wants, L—”

  “Stop. You don’t care about what Peter wants. I know that much about you.”

  “What exactly are you implying?” His voice was calm, but his eyes were darkened. He looked at me through his brown lashes, elbows propped on the pillows he leaned on. It annoyed me how everything he did seemed so planned out, so unwavering. Cool, collected. Ever since the Jolly Roger’s brig, anyway.

  “I don’t know anything else about you. So why on earth would you expect me to trust you? You stole my necklace before shoving me around. And I forgave you, like an idiot, and you haven’t said a purposeful word since you’ve been shacking up in the Nevertree. Which you obviously”—I motioned around us—“didn’t need, by the looks of your quaint hut off the ground here.”

  He just watched me with that devilish smirk he wore almost permanently. I felt my jaw clench in irritation.

  “Then why did you think I could help? If I’m so…” He sat up, leaning in closer to me with a smile. “Untrustworthy… why’d you let me stick around?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but he was making me feel uneasy, unsure of what the actual answer was. But slowly it dawned on me that I didn’t know an answer to his question. Why had I kept him around? There really wasn’t a reason I could think of. He knew things? But he hadn’t proven to me he knew the right things yet. Just events he promised happened, when in actuality, I didn’t know if they had. He knew the general; that was certain. But did Zane really know Peter? It was like they’d never met before when we’d visited him in the hospital.

  I stared at the fire uncomfortably. “I-I don’t know.”

  There was still a pleased smile on his thin lips, bending away from me again so I felt I could finally breathe. “I think you kept me because you know there’s something important about me.” He raised an eyebrow. “Correct me if I’m wrong, though.” I opened my mouth to do just that. Then something made me close it. Was he right? He sounded like he was right. But I knew that was just part of the way he manipulated. He made you think he knew everything because there wasn’t a lick of doubt in his voice or his features. When I didn’t respond, he relaxed with his arms behind his neck, leather jacket stretching to its full capacity. “I guessed right, then.”