Everland(54)

“They won’t hurt me. They need me alive, and it may be the only way to get to Joanna. If we are lucky, they have Bella, too. If they take me to the palace, I can rescue both girls and Jack,” I say.

“No!” Pete says, his fingers twitching around the hilt of his blades. “I won’t allow it.”

“She’s right,” Doc whispers, his voice wavering. “If we stay, we’ll be captured, if not killed. There is no reason Hook needs any of us boys. And Gwen will be caught and taken to the palace anyway. How long can we run and hide? At least this way we have a fighting chance to reorganize and save all three girls.”

I do not allow them time to protest. “Go,” I say, nudging Pickpocket to the back of the building. “Get them out of here.”

None of the Lost Boys move. Instead, they glance at one another, waiting for someone to argue, to come up with an alternative plan.

“Didn’t you hear me?” I shove Pete. “I said, get out of here! Now! They’re going to be here any minute. Save yourselves!”

The boys still don’t budge. Furniture clatters in the lobby of the building, ripping me from my racing thoughts. I grab Pete’s wrist, prepared to lead him toward the back of the building to find an exit, when something slides behind me. I turn toward the sound, whipping my daggers from their sheaths, but in the dark, I can’t make out anything. A light appears from behind a panel in the wall, which has been pushed to the side. In the glimmer of a lamp, a teenage girl with long, raven-colored hair holds a finger to her lips, warning us to keep quiet. The lantern’s glow lights her flawless bronze skin and dark eyes, the trim on her black sari and chain belt glimmering like polished coins. Her forehead is adorned with a red bindi, and a jeweled hoop gleams in her pierced nose. Chrome-tinted cogs interlink in a long chain that wraps around her neck in a decorative collar necklace and drapes down each of her shoulders. The bronze hilt of a sword glitters from its sheath at her hip in the lantern’s glow. She waves a petite hand, beckoning us to come with her.

Glancing over my shoulder, I catch the glint of lamplight off Pete’s blades, Pickpocket’s rifle, and Mole’s spiked staff, all aimed at the girl. “Who are you?” Pete demands in a harsh whisper.

“There isn’t time for explanations. Are you coming or not?” she says, her eyes darting toward the entrance of the museum.

The soldiers’ angry voices move nearer, and among them, I can now distinguish Hook’s deep growl shouting orders.

“I think we should go with her,” Pickpocket says, shifting from one foot to the other. He keeps the gun aimed at her.

Mole sniffs the air and loosens his grip on his mace. “She smells like licorice.”

“The same as you smelled with Bella?” Pete asks, eyeing the girl warily.

Mole nods.

“What about Jack?” I ask. “What if he was able to get away and comes here looking for us?”

“If he’s not here by now, he’s been caught and probably imprisoned at Buckingham Palace. This is the only way any of us are getting out of here unscathed, and if Mole is right, she knows where Bella is,” Pete says with reluctance. He sheathes a dagger and sighs. “We’re going with her. It’s better than you turning yourself over to Hook. ”

We dash to the open panel in the wall. Doc, Pickpocket, and Pete hurry through the opening while Mole hangs on to Pete’s sleeve. I am the last to step through the gap.

“Who are you? How did you get here?” I ask as she hands her lantern to me to hold.

“My name is Lily,” the girl says with a sly smile.

With that, she closes the panel behind us.





With my black buckled boot I kick a scrap of what is left of a van Gogh painting from the burning embers. The rubbish bin lies sideways on the floor, its contents spilled in a pile next to it. I pick up the small, charred fragment, the petals in the picture appearing as limp as the canvas itself. With my night-vision goggles perched on top of my head, I squint at the art.

“What a shame,” I say, addressing the soldiers. “One thing more valuable than gold or jewels is history.” I release the piece of canvas and it flutters to the floor. I turn my gaze to the shielded faces of my soldiers. They look more like automatons than people.

“But there’s no room for sentimentality. London’s rooftops burned a year ago. Today, her reincarnation, Everland, will face the same demise.”

The soldiers shift uncomfortably, flicking their goggled gazes to one another.

“Burn it down!” I shout. “Burn it all down until there is nowhere else for them to hide.” I fix my glare on Jack and clench my jaw. “And get rid of my traitorous stepbrother.”

The uniform-clad men shout orders, their voices sounding as mechanical as robots when I push past them.

“Wait!” Jack says. He struggles in the grip of an officer, his wrists bound tightly behind him. “That wasn’t the deal!”

I whirl on my heels and march close enough that Jack falters backward. “You’re right, Lost Boy: It wasn’t the deal we agreed upon. I should’ve killed you the moment Smeeth brought you to me. But no, instead I spared your life. We made a deal: You give me Gwen and I leave Everland forever. But the girl is not here, thus our agreement is null and void. Good-bye, dear brother.”