I watched in a sort of trance, not understanding what was going on. Who was this person before me? It wasn’t Peter Pan; there was no way. His mannerisms were jerky, hard. Peter used to move swiftly and with no purpose in mind. He’d been free spirited and fun, and it ignited him like a beacon in the night.
But it wasn’t there anymore.
Slowly, I stepped toward him with my arms crossed, studying him up and down. “What…?” I shook my head. “Happened to you?”
Peter looked up at me with a judgmental stare. “What are you talking about?” He shuffled through some papers on his desk. “I’m readying for war. I’m not going to look like a proper model, Lacey.”
“That’s not what I mean—”
But he cut me off with an accusing glare. “Why don’t you go find your precious little love puppy? You’re disrupting my work.”
Taken aback, I stopped walking toward him and held my arms tighter to my chest.
“What are you talking about?” I barked.
Peter’s eyes were dangerous as he said, “You know exactly who I’m talking about.”
I tried to find something to defend myself with, but words kept stumbling around in my head like a drunk Irishman on Saint Patrick’s Day. How could he think so lowly of me? I wasn’t some tramp moving from one boy to the next. I hadn’t even understood any of the “feelings” I’d been having about Zane. Peter wasn’t allowed to treat me like this.
“You’re accusing me of something that…” I couldn’t find the word amidst my struggle.
“That isn’t the truth? Right.” He snorted, reading over the many spines with his back to me.
I stepped closer. “Don’t accuse me of something like this. I told you I didn’t like you, and now you’re just acting like, like…”
“A child?” He turned, glaring at me evenly, a challenge. I sucked in an angry breath, never letting my stare leave his, though I was shaking with adrenaline. Peter gave a tight-lipped smile. “If that’s what you’re saying, then you are absolutely right.”
My bottom lip trembled. “Peter, this is ridiculous. You brought me here to help, but you won’t let me in. You blocked me out because of some silly more-than-friends kind of mindset you had, and you just have to let it go already,” I growled, a bit angry now. “You’re a grown-up now, remember? Why can’t you just act like one?”
“I am not a grown-up,” Peter barked, making me flinch, leaning against the bookshelf. “And you think I’m silly? If I’d known that was what you thought of me from the beginning, then I would’ve taken you straight back to where I brought you from.” He flipped his hand at me and turned to look at his desk.
That stung. Despite all the turmoil I’d gone through here, and despite the fact that when I’d first gotten here, I would’ve loved the offer of going home, I still felt his words cut into me like I knife.
“Don’t say that, Peter,” I whimpered, sounding weaker than I’d meant. “This isn’t like you.” Because it wasn’t. The Peter Pan I knew and loved—though not in the way he wanted—would never say things like this. He was happy, optimistic. Caring.
But none of those things reflected in the dark pools of his eyes now.
“Maybe it is,” he said in a low voice, gazing off at the place past my head. Then he blinked back to me, a black look that sucked all the air from my lungs with its severity. “Maybe this is exactly what I’m like now.”
“You can’t just flip the switch,” I begged. “You have to lead this army. Don’t let me get in the way of beating the real enemy here.”
Peter looked up at the ceiling, darkening hair tinted almost auburn from the lick of the lantern. “Don’t flatter yourself; this isn’t just about you.” He was slipping through my fingers, away from me. The only friend I’d had for so long, who taught me everything, even if I hadn’t realized it—backing away from me because of this stupid mess I’d created. Tears welled in my eyes as he continued. “Whoever you thought you knew, he’s gone now.” His voice was impassive as he leaned over his desk again. “He disappeared when I hid my shadow.”
His shadow?
Looking around the room, I realized he wasn’t kidding. His shadow was nowhere to be seen. Magic, I had no doubt.
“Why would you do that?” I sounded more accusing than I would’ve liked to project, but it came out anyway.
Peter rolled his eyes. “If your plan is to sit here and chide me all night, then you would be wise to leave my tent as soon as possible.” He blinked at me, tone cold. “I have work to do.”
But I wasn’t done, and I was frustrated and upset and all kinds of different emotions all at once because I couldn’t fathom all that was happening. This wasn’t supposed to be happening.
“Why did you hide your shadow, Peter?”
There was a pause before he smacked his hand down with an angry growl, making me jump. “To forget it, Lacey. To forget all my pain, feelings, humanity. To get you, and the others, out of my head and to perform how I need to in order to win this war, not only out there…” He strained, speaking with a wicked smile on his face. “But in here, too.” He pointed to his head with a laugh.
“How would that help anything?” I pleaded. I didn’t want this, whoever or whatever this was. I wanted the Lost Boy I’d known for so long. I wanted this all to be a horrible, horrible nightmare, like the ones that woke me in a cold sweat in the middle of the night.
Though, not this time. I wasn’t waking up from this anytime soon.
Then suddenly, I realized the Lost Boy had always been just that: lost. And he still was, even in his own mind.
“How?” he repeated. The tears trickled down my cheeks as he stared down at his map and ran a calloused finger over its images. “Because if you take away Peter Pan’s shadow… then his heart goes with it. And I don’t want it anymore. And more importantly…” He glared at me now. “I don’t want you anywhere near it. I grew up because of you. I ruined myself in order for these people to be saved. And now that they have the only weapon you possess—and you’re only good for raising a stupid flag—I realize I wasted my time.”
I wanted to step toward him, to get on my hands and knees and do whatever humiliating thing I needed to in order to get him to come back to me. To everyone. Peter Pan was the symbol of joy and hope, not only for children in the Mainland, but also for those who needed him here. Like me. I needed him.
But it didn’t matter what I wanted or needed.
Because Peter Pan didn’t need me.
“Don’t do this,” I told him. “You said that Neverland fed off of my belief. That you brought me here to help fix what was dying.”
“Obviously, I was wrong. Neverland is still dying, and all you’ve done is ruin whatever you’ve tried to fix here.” He picked up some papers, shuffling them and setting them in one of the desk drawers with an emotionless expression. “What’s already done is done. Now, we have a battle to fight tomorrow,” Peter said simply. “You may want to go rest up. After all”—he tilted his head with a fake smile—“there are so many people counting on you to do what you’ve promised.”
Then he shooed me with a flick of his hand and sat in his chair once more to look over his work. I had no choice but to turn and leave him behind.
Along with everything that had ever been between us.
Thirty
The most frustrating thing for me to deal with was not being able to listen in on a conversation I was dying to hear. And it was no different for me when Peter began his descent down the hill, over a few sand dunes, and toward the tent pitched by Hook’s men next to the ocean’s waves.
To say I was nervous was an understatement. My palms itched with sweat and my stomach ached knowing the odds laid before us all. If this meeting between Peter and Hook didn’t go as planned, the entire army would be forced into battle immediately. But what did it necessarily mean for this confrontation to be successful? A ceasefire? Under what circumstances? Would Peter be willing to compromise to bypass the war we all were pr
aying didn’t happen in the first place?
I was still hurt from our conversation last night. But I’d told myself, as it was practically dawn before I was able to sleep, that it’d be best not to tell anyone about Peter getting rid of his shadow. Everyone was stressed as it were. But the weight of the conversation just added onto my shoulders, and it was making every part of me want to curl up into a ball and cry.
Lox’s hand on my shoulder made me jump.
“Don’t be afraid,” she told me, a worried look on her features. “You and I, we’re warrior chicks. Girl power, am I right?”
I shook my head with a fake smile, looking out again over the span of land our troops could soon be fighting over. If only she knew what was actually going on, what magnifying change had happened. What if the lack of heart made Peter act differently during war? What if he turned sides… or something worse?
Wind brushed back my hair. I’d already discarded the horrid, smelly helmet and wasn’t going to put on until it was absolutely necessary. “There’s such an eerie-ness about this moment,” I said. “It’s…”
“Terrifying, I know.” Lox inhaled the ocean breeze as her own golden braids flapped around her. “But you’re not the one with the sword here.” She lifted the weapon in her hand and studied it.
Guilt flushed through me as I reached out toward her. “You don’t have to fight either, Lox. You can come with me and Zane, and—”
She pulled away from me gently. “I’m Peter’s apprentice, Lacey. I can’t leave him and his troops to fight alone.”
I wanted to tell her one more person, though needed, most likely wouldn’t make a difference in the outcome of this war. As much as I wanted to stay hopeful, the facts blatantly bursting out at us all were clear. A miracle would have to drop on us if we were going to win.
But right now, as Hook and Peter met face to face, it was all about waiting. Waiting for the one signal to show whether we could take a breath of relief.
Or watch the blood bath begin right before our eyes.
Leaving Lox to mull over her own thoughts, I let my hand fall on the flank of the horse I’d been given, ruffling its mane a little between my fingers. This patience thing was already painful enough, but on top of it, the thought of the carnage possibly about to commence while I ran away, fleeing for my life, made another heavy weight press down on me. It didn’t feel right to give up that easily. It didn’t feel like I was being the heroic person I was supposed to be, running away from the problem.
But there was also the unwavering doubt in the pit of my gut, telling me I wasn’t some super comic book character that could defeat any and all of her enemy’s in one punch. I was just me, Lacey Rose. Not magical, not strong, not able to save the day like everyone might think.
Just… normal.
Yet I wished I could be so much more than that.
“What’s going on down there?” Lox said, snapping me out of my train of thought.
As we all turned to look, there was a quick movement of an unarmed Peter and the threatening slice of the captain’s hook. The fight escalated quickly, punches and throat slashes flying one right after the other—the signal. And all too quickly, hands were on my waist and someone was hoisting me onto my horse.
“It’s time!” Zane made sure I was situated before glancing around us at the worried shuffling of the troops. The brown of his eyes found me again as he handed me my helmet, no trace of a smile on his face. This was no time for smiling.
People were about to die.
Innocent people, just trying to fight for what they believed in.
“Don’t think; just go.” Zane squeezed my knee as his hair shimmered in the light of the sun, buffeted in the wind. Before his touch left me, he offered me an apologetic expression. “Remember, say something worthwhile. And then charge in the opposite direction. I’m right behind you.”
I nodded to him, swallowing, and pushed my helmet up and over my head as he mounted the horse behind me. My hands trembled, my heart raced; the entirety of my body was aching with gut-wrenching fear and anxiety. If I thought I’d had anxiety back in the Mainland, it’d been a piece of cake compared to this.
I was about to lead an army into war.
I watched Peter altercating with the captain from a far distance, praying selfishly he’d back down, surrender, so I didn’t have to do the task at hand.
The final moment before everything went haywire.
But I was going to lead these troops into war.
I had to.
Glancing over to each soldier, Lox to my left, Zane behind me—which was distracting in itself—each gave me a slight nod behind the masks of their helmets. Beyond them, members of the fleet carried the Neverland symbol on flapping flags similar to mine, held proudly before the readying warriors about to step into what could quite possibly be their deaths.
And before me, the span of the clean battlefield and the invisible barrier that was holding me back from breaking out in my own courage.
Say something worthwhile.
When I lifted my sword and customized red flag, it was shocking to see the faces of so many men, women, and creatures nod in respect and raise their own in unison. Though from different backgrounds, with different views and feelings, we all wanted one thing. And that one thing alone would be the key to kicking this war square in the butt.
We all wanted to win.
One hand clutching my reins, the other suspending my sword in the air, the troops around me grew rather quiet. My cue.
Everyone waited for what I was going to say, almost as if I could feel them leaning in toward me.
So I stared forward, sucked in a breath, and bellowed out what I thought was the most appropriate but also reiterated thing to say:
“For Neverland!”
And we charged.
Apparently, Hook’s army consisted of not only his scum-scraping pirates, but also all the storybook creatures that had betrayed Peter in the time of his disappearance—otherwise known as the darkness—confirming what all of us had not wanted to believe. Which, as many times as Lox and Zane assured me, was technically my fault. When you really peeled back all the layers, all of this was entirely my fault.
Yet I was still going to run.
Riding a horse was already uncomfortable, but add another person to it and it was like all the muscles in your groin were ripping apart with each bounce. I could only imagine how Zane felt behind me. But after I sheathed my sword and grabbed the horn of the saddle with my rein-free hand, I was able to steady myself enough to keep on the galloping steed. Thank you, Dad for sending me to equestrian camp when I was twelve while he had to travel to London for a week.
The sound of horses’ hooves, clanging armor, and hurried breaths were all that could be heard as our men moved in from the North and South. From where we were placed, Zane and I could see the enemy horde coming right for us. There were creatures I’d never seen before, some I had. Those creatures were ready to kill for someone evil and manipulative, when they could be on our side to help ward off Hook. It made me feel even sicker in my stomach when I watched the cloud of Hook’s troops pour over the dunes and head straight for the Neverland soldiers. Very, very outnumbered, that was what we were.
And in the midst of them, a poised and proper Jack rode atop a large giant’s shoulder, and I instantly put two and two together. Jack and the Beanstalk. He and his Nephilim had been traitors all along; we just hadn’t caught on to his ploys until it was almost too late. Though our side had giants, too, they were not even close to how terrifying and brutal Jack’s was. They trudged beside us in galloping, thunderous stomps, roaring with their tree clubs held high in the air. But with just one sweep, Jack’s giant could easily knock them all away.
Zane was trying to say something to me, and I turned to look back at him to hear him better, but all I caught was, “Watch out!” before I was yanked off my horse and smacked into the hard ground, soldiers still trampling all around us.
Panic shot thro
ugh me when I couldn’t take a deep breath, the air knocked from my lungs. Even if I’d wanted to move, I wasn’t able, frozen in shock from hitting the ground so hard. But thankfully, Zane had landed better than I had.
He hauled me to my feet. Soldiers ran by us, trying not to trample us. But they were also dodging what our horse had not, which made it difficult.
Cannon balls.
“Seriously?” was the first thing I could say after I got my breath back, coughing a little and trying to wipe away the natural tears forming from my panic, but I couldn’t reach them through my helmet.
Zane’s hands still gripped my shoulders as he swiftly moved us through the oncoming Neverland soldiers so we didn’t get knocked down again. They whisked past us with war cries and shouts as more mortar began to rain down around us, spurting dirt and sand into the air.
“We need to get to the forest!” Zane shouted above the noise, and I nodded, cringing as a nearby Centaur’s legs went sprawling into the air. My throat felt tight, and I still hadn’t even begun to see the real bloodshed.
Once the crowd began to thin out, Zane grabbed onto my wrist and started to run to the left of the large hill we’d just descended. The plan to ride the horse to our safe spot hadn’t worked, so our only option was to move by foot now. But I couldn’t help but gaze over my shoulder as we sprinted toward the shelter of the forest while so many others were heading for danger.
“Zane…” I started, puffing from the excursion of running. “Zane. What about Peter?”
He only briefly looked back at me. “He can take care of himself. Always has and always will.” His own breath was heavy as we slowed a bit, closer to the tree line now. “I’m doing what I was told, and that’s getting you to safety.”
I shook my head. He didn’t understand. He didn’t get that Peter’s shadow was gone, along with his humanity. What if he did something out of character? He wasn’t the same person; he wasn’t the caring or tactful Peter I’d once known.
And who knew what he was capable of?
Mere Phantasy Page 33
