Mere Phantasy

by Ashley Lauren

  I glared at how bigheaded he sounded. “Even if it was true, I still don’t trust you enough to follow your judgment, and I don’t care if you want to ‘coax’ me to going back to the army. It’s idiotic. I’ll probably get killed because of it. I’m not willing to give up my life like that for a place I don’t even belong in.”

  Zane let out a mocking laugh. “Oh, Lacey, if only you knew how wrong you sound right now.”

  “I’m not wrong,” I argued low.

  “You’re meant to be here, even more so than me. You and I both know it.” The depths of his eyes were shadowed from the effects of the fire’s light, and his words were enough to make me hold my tongue for a second.

  But then I was offended, bristling. “Y-you act like you know how the moon and stars exist, and then when they’re formatted backward, how they’ll look when they come out. But you won’t prove that to me until… until—”

  “Until what, Lacey?” He stopped my train of thought with his doubting tone. Why did he do that? Interrupt when I was almost getting to my point.

  “Until I know something about you, Zane. Until I see some sort of proof that you, and this place, aren’t just some sort of crazy fantasy I’m coming up with in my poor, deranged mind!” I gasped shakily. I’d just yelled at him.

  But it wasn’t just at him, was it? I was still hooked on the idea that this place wasn’t real, deep down. I was holding on to the hope that one night I’d wake up, home, safe in my bed, not surrounded by the oppression of a war or death or anything of what this place had to offer. Home, where stories… they weren’t anything more than lines on a page.

  And they, more importantly, weren’t real.

  All too quickly, Zane was close to me with a serious expression, a forcefully enchanting tone on his breath. “Lacey, the thing about this place is it’s based on a fictional intersperse of reality, living and breathing like an actual entity,” he told me, looking up to see if I was following. One hand was cupped like a ball, and with his other, he pointed to where he was talking about. “The outer wall, this is the Mainland, where magic can exist but prefers not to. And here’s space.” He showed me around his curved fingers. “That’s a realm only few have seen and most won’t get to experience. So if the Mainland is in the pool of space”—he held up his enclosed palm—“and if space holds the Mainland”—he moved his free hand to motion around him—“then where’s Neverland?”

  “In hell?” I questioned in full seriousness.

  He gave me a look as if I were the dumbest person he’d ever met. “No. It’s what holds it together.”

  This was so much to fathom, something that was too hard to grasp for my slow brain. But I didn’t stop him.

  “The stories that come here don’t exist in the real world; you’re right. But here, they’re merely fantasy—shouldn’t be living, but breathing all the same. Just like Neverland. It was created to hold dreams, wishes, things that most times don’t come true in the Mainland. That’s why people write them down, so they can end up here.”

  “But people don’t know about Neverland.” I shook my head.

  “No, but they believe by putting their stories onto paper, by letting them escape from their brilliant story-making minds, there’s always hope. Neverland is built on hope.” He finished, leaning back again to prop his feet on another pillow. The fire crackled, sparks popping like my scattered thoughts over all I was being told.

  “So you’re saying if people think their stories are possible… o-or good, that’s the reason they show up here? In this mess?”

  He let out a sigh. “No. I’m saying the hope people have in the Mainland affects the life and growth in Neverland. If there’s no hope, there’s no place for the ideas and stories to go. Hope holds those things because it depends on them for its survival.”

  “Hope isn’t alive. It’s a feeling,” I insisted, narrowing my eyes.

  Zane pursed his lips in thought, running a hand down the curve of his jaw, scratching the light stubble there. “All right. Since I’m obviously not getting anywhere with the philosophical side of things…” he reasoned. The brown of his eyes flickered to me. “I’ll tell you something about me to help with your weird obsession over trusting people.” He fluttered his hand at me, then said, “But for everything I say, I want to hear something about you.”

  I studied him, uneasy. “You do know some lame game of twenty questions isn’t going to make me trust you, right?”

  He shrugged. “Worth a shot. The other direction I tried had you practically drooling in mystification.” He twiddled his fingers in the air with a smirk.

  I tried to ignore his taunt while thinking of what question I was going to ask him. I had so many. It seemed I only had a few shots, seeing Zane was one of the most impatient people I (barely) knew.

  “Okay.” I started, running my hands over my finally drying pants, squinting at the sun now shining in through the hole in the ceiling. “I want to know what story you even came from. Why’re you here?”

  He grabbed a small canteen of water, amidst all his junk around this hut, and took a long swig. Something told me it wasn’t water, though. “I’m not,” he answered easily. “Next question.”

  “Wait, you’re not what?” I asked.

  “From a story.” He popped his lips after swallowing. “I came from the Mainland, like you.”

  I must’ve looked at him like he was crazy. “Who brought you?”

  He studied his canteen uncertainly after another sip. “I don’t know. Some merchant I paid to bring me—” He looked at me. “Wait, that was three questions. You agreed to this game, and that’s against the rules.” He pointed a finger my way. “I get to go twice now.”

  “Fine, go ahead.” Rolling my eyes, I felt myself able to relax for the time being, so I slouched into the pillows like Zane had, relieving my aching muscles. I could be calm for now; he wasn’t talking about going back to the general.

  But there was always the anxiety this conversation was starting to give me. I was never good at talking to boys. Heck, I wasn’t good at talking to people in general. And I knew Zane was going to dig deep. Or so I thought.

  “What’s your favorite color?” he inquired lightly, still squinting at his bottle, trying to determine how much was left inside.

  I laughed lightly, playing with the hem of my dirty shirt. “That’s a stupid question.”

  “Ah, but it got you to smile,” he corrected, looking over to me with a wink.

  I watched him uneasily. Was this… flirting? It felt strange, forced maybe.

  “I smile all the time,” I challenged, crossing my arms over my chest.

  He let out a, “Hmm,” before sitting up straight to be closer to me. “No. You act like a child all the time. Smiling only comes on rare occasions.” He pointed to my arms.

  “No, I don’t,” I insisted, resituating my hands in my lap this time. Now I’d always be conscious of it because he’d pointed it out.

  “Your pouting right now proves otherwise.” Zane stared at me pointedly.

  “I’m not pouting!” I said, throwing up my hands.

  He held his up in mock surrender.

  “Whatever you say, princess.” He smirked before tapping his boot in front of him on the floor, arms draped loosely over his knee. I hated how cool he was. And that nickname. He added, “It’s actually not a bad thing. If you were too grown up, Peter would’ve never been able to bring you back here.”

  “What do you mean?” I questioned, but he clicked his tongue.

  He grinned, showing for once his square, white teeth I’d rarely seen before. “Not so fast. It’s still my turn.”

  This was all just so amusing to him. I was finding it aggravating, being talked about like I was a little kid.

  Tapping his chin, I saw the focus of his eyes travel from my face, down to my chin, and then to what I prayed was my neck. Almost instinctively, I moved to clutch my necklace.

  “Where’d your mum…” His gaze flashed back up to mine
. “Get that? I mean really get it.”

  My throat felt dry all too suddenly, and I pulled on the locket more securely, heartbeat picking up speed. “Why do you want to know so badly?”

  There was silence between us, only the sound of the fire crackling as he watched me.

  Finally, he said, “Because I’ve seen it before.”

  Twenty-Three

  He licked his lips slowly, not looking away from me. “Haven’t you noticed the symbol on the front? It’s… unique.”

  Curious, even though I knew the design by heart, I unlatched the chain swiftly and let the cool metal pool in my palm. With my thumb, I felt over the engraving on the front, the familiar tree and roots surrounded by a ring of thorns. I’d never thought it was anything special, just some cheesy design from an antique store or something, because no one really had legit lockets anymore.

  But never in a million years did I think it’d be connected to Neverland in some way, and I especially didn’t consider it might have magical powers, whatever it was.

  “May I?” He offered his hand to take it. I considered his next move carefully, scrutinizing him. Zane rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to run off with it again,” he assured me, but I wasn’t convinced. Smiling at me to try and ease my hesitation, his voice got softer. “I promise, Lacey.”

  Reluctantly, I slowly handed over the locket, watching Zane’s every move. When he had all of it, he brought it toward him to study, and my heart skipped a beat. “It’s pretty. How long have you had it?”

  About to answer, I stopped, giving him a teasing smirk. “Not so fast.” I mocked what he’d said to me earlier. “It’s not your turn to ask. Follow the rules of the game, pretty boy.”

  His mouth moved open in playful shock. “Did you just use my own suave statement against me?”

  “Yeah. And with a fitting nickname you hate, too,” I noted, leaning back with a sigh of relief. My necklace was safe for now. Even if he tried to run off with it, I’d be able to catch up to him and get it back.

  Besides, that wasn’t that big of an issue for me anymore. It was getting easier and easier to talk with him, surprisingly enough. And there was also the reassurance the necklace might shoot light beams at him if he decided to steal it again.

  Zane looked at me with an amused smile, shaking his head, but he didn’t say anything more about it. Instead, he started to look over my necklace again. “All right, ask a question before I forget mine.”

  I didn’t have to think too hard. “Why did you just take it from me when we first met? Don’t you think asking would’ve been a lot easier?”

  “Probably.” He shrugged, still letting the golden piece sparkle as he held it up. “But I wasn’t thinking straight.”

  “So the pirates hadn’t actually drunk all their rum themselves, you mean?” I smirked at him, and he just shook his head with a soft smile.

  “Yeah, we’ll go with that,” he joked and brought the necklace back down. When I looked at him, expecting a better answer, he handed the locket back to me. “Honestly?” he asked, and I nodded in response. He sighed, running his hand over one of his pillows. “I thought it would be worth something for trade, so I could go to the flea market and sell it for… well…”

  “More of the pirate’s rum?” I finished.

  He nodded.

  I was a bit disappointed the necklace hadn’t meant anything more to him, moving to put it back on, but he stopped me.

  “But when I looked closer… I saw the Neverland seal. I knew I’d seen that crest before, but I didn’t think it’d be worth much. And well, I’d seen other lockets just like it, so it must’ve just been a copy,” he explained.

  I found myself leaning in more toward him to hear what he said. “So what do you think it means?”

  “Just wait, princess,” he said, then pointed to it in my hand, the light of the flame casting strange shadows over his chiseled features. “At first I thought it must’ve been a copy, but I didn’t notice the thorns around the outside.”

  Frowning, I studied what he was talking about. “You thought only the tree and roots were there?”

  “Yeah. And the only other place I’ve ever seen the symbol with thorns around it was someplace that could pay way more than the flea market ever could,” he admitted.

  Swallowing, I made eye contact with him again. “Who?”

  A snort left his pointed nose. “It sounds crazy… but the only other time I saw a symbol like that was when I was arrested at the Royal Castle.” Seeing my confused expression, he continued with, “Peter isn’t the only Neverking, Lace.”

  I could feel my arm hairs rising with chills. “So you think I got it from royalty somehow?” There was no way. “My mom gave this to me, Zane. Before she died.”

  Rubbing his thigh in thought, he pushed back the stringy bangs tickling his eyebrows. “I don’t know how you’d get such a nice piece of jewelry from the royal family by stealing it; it’d be close to impossible. Did your mum ever say where she got it from?”

  “She told me it was magical.” I watched him, though my mind was elsewhere. “She said her father gave it to her on her sixth birthday.”

  Images of my mother came flashing into my mind then, reminders of the horrible things that happened to her that I’d needed years of counseling to get over seeing. They were imprinted into my mind, watching the police come to our front door after she didn’t come home for a week, the haunting memory of her last words I didn’t remember, but desperately wished I did. The necklace, whatever its origin, had been special to her. And because she’d given it to me, it was my last connection to her, to the good. I couldn’t see her smile anymore, but I could see her terrified expression before she ran out for her last day of work. There was no memory of her laugh, but I could still hear them on the phone with my dad, telling him they’d found her remains in a burned building a month later, and whoever did it to her would pay. But they never did.

  It was as if all the bad memories took over the good. And so the necklace was all I had left if I didn’t want to think about her death over and over again throughout my days.

  “I mean…” Zane interrupted my thoughts, scratching the back of his neck with a pained expression. Like he knew the next thing he said would sound strange. “Is it possible…?”

  “That Mom was from Neverland?”

  He bit his lip, looking me over. “Anything’s possible, Lace.”

  I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut. “Not that. That isn’t possible. Peter said he found me a long time ago, and Mom never knew anything about it.”

  “It’s the most extreme scenario, I’ll admit. But she had to get it from someone or somewhere with magic; magic doesn’t just come from nowhere,” he told me, trying to calm me down. I realized I was breathing heavily and tightly clutching the locket now. “Maybe her dad got it from someone else from Neverland. O-or maybe—”

  I cut him off. “It doesn’t matter right now,” I told both him and myself. I started to place the locket back around my neck blindly, as I had so many years of my life. When I looked back at Zane, he was studying me curiously. “I don’t know why it was given to me or where it came from—royalty, magic, whatever. But we have to get Peter back before we make assumptions.”

  “You think he’ll know?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea. But he seems to be the root of all things magic around here, and he’s the one who brought me here. What for, I still don’t have a clue.”

  The fire was dwindling now, kind of like my spirit at the moment. There were so many unanswered questions, so many minor details I didn’t know or know how to find out. The only person who could help was Peter, and he was not an asset at the moment.

  So nothing was going to change that right now.

  “Wait, you’re not going to try and find out why it’s important?” Zane watched me get up to my feet, turning to dry some of the damp clothes on my backside.

  “Won’t that just be a waste of time? There’s more important thin
gs to do,” I said.

  He shot up quickly, stepping to me. “What’re you saying?”

  Silently, I wondered why I was suddenly so hopeful. Maybe it was the fact that I now had some sort of link between this place and myself, even if it was just a generational gift or something my grandfather had gotten from an antique shop for cheap. This symbol on my necklace connected me to Neverland somehow, even if it was by a long shot.

  Maybe I felt more inspired to help because of it.

  Turning to look at Zane, I gave him a small, relieved smile. “It means there’s a war to lead.”

  “You’re serious?” He laughed happily. “You’re going to help with the war, just like that?”

  “If I don’t, who else is going to do it?” I bit my lip with a grin.

  Unexpectedly, Zane came toward me and swooped me up in a large hug, spinning me off my feet for a few seconds. A very unattractive squawk left my mouth, and I gripped his shoulders tightly as he moved.

  Letting go of my waist, he dropped me in front of him as he hissed an excited, “Thank God!”

  He was tall, but not staring at a skyscraper in the city kind of tall. I had to step away, though, breathless, trying to shake off the feeling of butterflies. “Don’t do that.”

  But Zane ignored me, moving forward to grab my wrist and steer me toward the stairs of the tree house. “Come on. We should probably go get you changed and tell Lox.”

  “Wait.” I pulled back from him. “What about the general? Shouldn’t we see him first?”