We were getting closer, and I was horribly out of breath, so I stopped him, the battle sounding far in the distance when it was really only about a mile away.
“I-I can’t leave these people!”
His eyes worriedly found mine through the slit of his helmet. “We aren’t to the forest yet. Come on. We can talk there.” He stepped forward to grab my hand again, but I pulled away.
“No, we haven’t—” I tried to explain. But suddenly, the world turned dark and began to shake beneath us.
“Mainlander!” A rumbling voice tore through the air, forcing me to cover my ears. Wrenching around, both Zane and I blinked up in surprise as the Nephilim Jack was riding towered at his full height right before us. The volume of his voice made my teeth chatter. “Surrender yourself or watch your boyfriend die right before your very eyes!”
I slumped in annoyance. “For Neverland sake, he’s not my boyfriend!”
“Whoa, whoa, wait a second—” Zane said, but the rest was cut off by the loud roar of the beast.
Looking up, it began to lower toward the ground, pieces of its decaying, mossy body smacking into the earth around us. I winced, holding up my arms to shield myself, but when no crushing came, I opened my eyes to see the Nephilim had set down its master from its shoulder, a few feet in front of me. Around the traitor’s neck, my locket sparkled brightly in the sun, making my stomach twist in hatred.
Jack smirked as he waved off his monster, unsheathing his sword to face me. “Either you fight me here, dying a truly heroic death for a brat like you, or my giant crushes you and your pet. It’s your decision.”
“Pet? I’ll show you who’s a pet,” Zane growled threateningly. “If you want her, you’ll have to go through me.”
Jack sneered. “Fine. I’ll kill you both.”
All of us lifted their swords to brawl, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise, and something told me it wasn’t because I was scared of Jack. No, definitely not Jack—he wasn’t that powerful. But, when I turned my head, I saw someone who did in fact scare me, a lot. And in front of this person, was a large, very fiery ball of flame heading straight toward me. Barely, I ducked, smelling burned hair as the fire exploded about twenty feet away in the forest, just missing me by about an inch, taking my stomach and eyebrows with it.
Rhiannon, in her middle-aged form, stepped toward me, green fire licking off her hands and a murderous expression on her sharp features. “Daughter of Rose!” she bellowed, the fire igniting even more, in tune with her anger.
Inhaling deeply and trying to hide how fearful I really was, I got to my feet shakily, bringing out my own sword, watching its blue, icy-colored gem sparkle on the hilt. “I’ll fight you, witch! With or without my powers.” Dumb, really.
But it was time I stopped running from my problems. And that started with getting back what belonged to me in the first place—my courage.
No more excuses.
Thirty-One
The second he was distracted, Jack took advantage of Zane, slashing his sword and just barely missing a nice slice to his opponent’s arm. Bringing my focus back to the terrifying, much-more-dangerous-than-I-originally-thought witch, I held my sword at the ready. Zane was on his own, fighting Jack, and our plan of running away was slowly dwindling to nothing by the looks of it.
And I was stuck with Rhiannon.
“Do you honestly believe you’ll be able to beat me with a measly sword?” she sneered. Before I could react, a searing pain erupted in my hand, and I was forced to drop my weapon, the metal burning my flesh thanks to one of Rhiannon’s mumbled spells. When the weapon had fallen to the ground, the witch flicked her wrist, and it disappeared completely.
“That was my favorite,” I whined, glaring at her. But she apparently had no time for my sass, because another fireball was sent my way. Weaponless and horribly defenseless, I dodged and dove to the dirt, the metal armor around me burning from the heat.
I was never good at dodgeball in school. In fact, when I knew we were playing, I always faked being sick. But now that I was faced with a game of dodgeball of death, I wished I had practiced more back then. Listen here, kids: keep your swords close, but your PE skills even closer, because you never know when you might need them in the long run.
While just missing another explosion of flames, I noticed Jack and Zane brawling out of the way of Rhiannon’s fiery blasts.. The sound of their swords clanging could be heard even though they were at least forty feet away, seeming like mere specks compared to the Nephilim towering over them. Neither seemed to be fazed that I was becoming more and more likely to become Lacey-brûlé within the next few moments. While I “distracted” Rhiannon, I prayed silently Zane saw the necklace swinging around Jack’s neck and remembered, well, it was a little important if I was going to defeat a full-fledged witch who was shooting fireballs my way.
Getting frustrated, Rhiannon started to discharge rapid fire, following me as I trudged as fast as my legs could carry me, the trail of flames following me as I jumped and dodged. It was a lot harder to be stealthy when you were A) clothed in full body armor, and B) a klutz as is. But somehow, I manage to run a full circle around Rhiannon before she threw up her hands in rage.
“You will die, you pesky little brat.”
My only tactic at this point, since Zane was still failing to see the magical weapon within mere centimeters of his fighting hands, was to run. So that’s what I did—I ran from a maniac witch’s blast of magic just like any sane person would in my situation.
What most sane people wouldn’t do in this situation, though: trip.
What I did in this situation: trip.
The chunkiness of my armor made the fall hurt worse than it should have, making me curse in pain. Seeing her opportunity—and a very, very afraid, wide-eyed Lacey Rose in open range—Rhiannon stepped closer, her hands igniting in more flames and her black eyes sparkling with demonic glee.
“Not so quick anymore, are we? Where’s your silly savior now, Mainlander?” she taunted, raising her hands to strike me. “Oh, how I shall love watching your pretty skin burn off.”
But just then, Zane shouted, “Lacey, catch!”
Looking up just in time, I saw my locket twirling through the air, having been torn from that repulsive traitor’s neck. And right as Rhiannon’s malicious smile began to fade, I caught the chain, barely, with my fingertips.
Smirking up at the disheveled witch, I held the locket in front of me. “My savior? She gave this to me a long time ago. And I wish she could see what I’m about to do with it.”
Eyes wide, the witch’s hands now extinguished. Her gasp of, “No,” was covered by the roar of my locket exploding to life in my hand, the blast shooting her back at least fifty yards. Getting to my feet, I gazed down at the activated jewelry in my palm, burning so red it almost resembled a…
“Rose,” I breathed out.
This realization was only temporary, as the evil magic lady was getting to her feet. When she saw me standing, she bellowed in rage, flames igniting her hair. “You despicable little—”
“Brat.” I nodded. “Yeah, I heard you the first time.”
Releasing a loud battle cry, Rhiannon sent everything she had straight for me, and without even attempting to do something about it, my locket burst just as much magic back, competing with her flames like cooling rain. The witch’s face contorted then, showing all forms she possessed, rapidly changing and twitching before her magic was drained so much she was stuck as her real self—an old, hideously ugly hag. The power from my necklace shot forward still, evenly gaining on the witch’s force until it was mere feet from her gnarled and withering hands.
“You won’t get away with this!” she hissed, almost bursting with how hard she was trying to fight back. But the weapon in my possession was too powerful. Soon, there was one last surge of light from its reddened beams, and then with a mighty shrill, Rhiannon burst into flame, soon burning out until nothing was left of her but a black crow’s feathe
r that was blown away in the breeze.
Zane kicked Jack to the ground, his boot dug deep into his chest, and the point of his sword aimed right for his jugular. “Any last words, traitor?” Zane slurred, having been elbowed in the mouth so hard his pretty lips were now swollen.
Jack glared daggers at him (not literal daggers; he wasn’t a witch) before spitting, “I can’t believe you went to their side, Zane. After all you’ve been through, you could’ve had power!”
Seeing me come up beside him, Zane scowled. “Yeah, because that power seemed to work out well for you, right?”
Thankfully, there was nothing more Jack had over us, because despite the giganticness of the Nephilim Jack controlled, there seemed to be a lot of things lacking in the monster’s “courage” department. The minute he saw the power of my necklace defeating Rhiannon, he bolted, despite Jack’s pleas, back into the forest where he belonged.
Seething now, Jack swallowed roughly. “Why don’t you just shoot me, then, huh? Be the coward we both know you truly are.”
Zane scoffed, “A gun’s a gun, bub. Doesn’t really matter who’s a coward and who’s not when you’re a dead man.”
Jack was about to open his mouth to say something most likely insulting, when a familiar voice rasped beside me.
“Lace, I think you and your weapon are needed back on the battlefield.”
Lox looked frazzled, her bow and arrow poised and ready to strike a heart if need be. When she saw I wasn’t moving, she flashed a stern glare our way. “Just go already. I got this.”
Amidst a string of Jack’s curses, Zane sheathed his weapon and grabbed my elbow to start running back toward the battle. When I glanced over at him midstride, I saw him grinning.
“What?” I panted, my adrenaline having taken over all my actions. Because let’s face it; without it, I would’ve definitely peed my pants by now.
Shaking his head in amazement, Zane’s smile was breathtaking (or that could have easily been because of the running) as he complimented, “You just beat a witch! You did, Lacey.”
“Don’t talk about it or I’ll barf.”
As we were approaching the battle, my heart slammed into my toes at the sight. Hundreds of our troops were down and not getting back up. We were putting up a fight, but it was nothing compared to the darkness and its power. Chaos consumed the dunes, sand sprayed with the blood of the innocent. As we ran, dark monsters tried slicing at us with claws, teeth, and weapons, but either Zane got past them with a swing of his sword or my locket ignited them into a pile of ash on the ground. We moved as a united force of strength amidst the craziness of the battlefield toward our end goal.
Watching one of your best friends get beaten to bits isn’t something you ever want to see.
Especially when he’s Peter Pan.
Hook, dressed in a full suit of red armor, had done lots more damage to the Lost Boy since we’d last seen. The captain had slashed him across the eyebrow, enjoying every second the crimson blood spurted over his tan skin. Zane held me back, preventing me from helping as other soldiers went for Peter’s stomach, back, shoulders. It was cruel and sickening to witness, and I fought against Zane to let me go as tears tickled my cheeks.
“Let me go! We have to help him!”
“Lace, they’ll kill y—”
Then Zane was forced to let go of me as a werewolf jumped to snap its teeth near his face. He pushed me forward, right up close and personal to the beating Peter was receiving.
“Fly, Peter!” I begged him, dropping my helmet to the sand. “Fly away!”
But he stayed silent, ignoring me as he took his battering.
Zane a few yards away now, slashing the werewolf to the ground, and he too looked terror stricken with the whole situation. Why was Peter doing this? Why was he handing himself over without even an ounce of a real fight? With a sickening crunch, he inlaid his blade into the wolf’s stomach and stood to give me a worried look.
Hook must’ve thought this too, because he held up a now clean hand, having used one of Smee’s hankies to wipe the slime off from before, and stepped forward to rip Peter up by his wrist.
“Why aren’t you fighting, Pan?” he growled, eyes flashing. “Is this some sort of suicide mission? This is pitiful.”
Peter just let his head go slack and blinked over at me dully. Though the sun rose high in the baby blue sky, there was no shadow to mark his existence. It was like…
It was like Peter Pan was already dead.
The captain, obviously feeling distasteful about Peter’s lack of will to live, threw him back down and spun around to face me. “This is all your doing, isn’t it?”
I shook my head, bottom lip trembling in fear as he stepped to me quickly to snatch my hair in his palm and drag me forward. The pain was enough to make me see sparks of multicolored light in my vision as I dug my nails into the skin of his hand in a desperate attempt to get him to let go. But with his grip strong, he shook my face near Peter’s. I was in too much pain to remember the power of my locket at the moment, tearing at his fingers harshly to get him to stop.
“Your girl, she’s about to die, Peter. Don’t tell me that doesn’t make you want to fight me.” Hook seethed, breath hot on my neck. “Don’t tell me you want her to die.”
Yet when Peter just shook his head and looked away from me, I felt everything inside me crumble.
Peter really did hate me.
The captain, still aggravated and done with me apparently, threw me full force away from him and toward Zane, who elbowed himself free of the pirate guards now surrounding us to kneel by my side.
I shuddered with pain and tears, pushing myself up shakily to look back at Peter. His eyes held no shine, none whatsoever.
He wasn’t even there anymore.
“Are you okay?” Zane asked. I shoved forward. “Lace?”
“Please let him go.” Apparently, I’d resorted to begging the captain. “He can’t feel. H-he isn’t capable.”
Zane look at me with a confused expression, and I immediately regretted not telling him about Peter and his lack of shadow.
He’s doing what he has to in order to win.
Hook shook his head with a gleeful smile. “I finally have him.” It seemed to dawn on him then as he gazed up at the sky above us. “I’ve won.”
And then all too quickly, he had his sword in hand, sticking its tip directly to Peter’s neck, wisps of his greased hair wafting in the uneven breeze coming off the sea.
“You’re going to die whether you fight me or not,” the captain spat, pressing his sword farther into the delicate skin under Peter’s jaw. A line of blood began to slither toward the sand, but Peter didn’t even flinch.
Instead, the blue of Peter’s eyes blinked evenly up at the captain, and an amused, sadistic smile crept onto his lips.
“As I’ve always said…” He shook his head, his smile never faltering. “To die would be an awfully big adventure.”
I screamed as Hook raised the sword high into the air, wrenching forward to try and stop him. But there was nothing I could do. To my horror, I could only sit and watch as the villain finally got everything he ever wanted, red eyes glinting with happiness as he brought the weapon down straight toward where Peter’s heart would’ve been.
But all lives were saved by a blast of light. Or more importantly, a blast of light that, thankfully, came from my locket (about time, too).
It knocked the captain’s sword right from his grimy fingers, sending it half melted into the ocean only a few feet away. Hook gazed down at his now empty hands in amazement, not fully fathoming what just happened.
“How…?” The captain voiced the question we were all thinking. Why in this moment had my locket finally decided to work?
Shaking, I stood to my feet alongside Zane, puffing out my chest to make it seem like I knew what I was doing. “Get away from him.”
Hook sneered, “Do you think, thanks to a flimsy little piece of scrap metal, you have all the power in the wo
rld, little girl?” His eyes seemed to bore into my soul, but still I stood tall. “You have no real power.”
“You’re right; I don’t.” I looked down at the locket, floating in its crimson pigment, threatening anything that might want to come against me. “But this does.”
The captain didn’t look as sure of himself as he said, “Y-you won’t hurt me. I haunted your dreams. I ruined your childhood with the darkness. You’re terrified of me.”
I swallowed down my uneasiness, uncertainty, and self-consciousness, only to replace it with the power the locket gave me. The power that, some time ago, my mother had wanted to give me. It was as if she had predicted what might become of me, even after she was gone. She believed in me before even Peter did; she knew what I was capable of with or without the locket. But knowing her, she wasn’t afraid of a little flare in life either. Literally.
Raising my gaze to rest on the captain, I wasn’t afraid. In fact, I was smiling.
“Why be scared of a sorry, beaten, codfish of an old man like you?” Hook’s evil grin faded, instantly replaced by rage. “You might have haunted my nightmares, Hook, but now, I bet I’m the one that’ll forever be in yours.”
And before he could respond, the locket burst with light, sending the captain flying toward the sea, his limbs flailing helplessly and his body airborne for a good mile before he plummeted into the murky waters.
I still couldn’t believe the necklace’s powers, watching the spot where the captain had disappeared under the waves for a long while, my locket going dormant once more in my grasp.
“Peter,” I addressed him, getting onto his level and hoping he’d respond. “A-are you okay?”
One side of his mouth lifted in a smile, but it was apparent he was really beaten up. “If you mean not dead, then yes, I’m okay.” Peter leaned back against a dip in the dunes with a groan. “What is in that thing?” he grumbled, looking at my locket skeptically.
“She just saved your life, mate. Show a bit more respect,” Zane grumbled, reaching to help me to my feet as the remaining soldiers began to assemble in joyful celebration.
Mere Phantasy Page 34
