Stars (Wendy Darling #1)(50)

Peter dropped his voice to imitate the pirate captain. “‘I swear on the grave of my father—I live to see you buried, Peter Pan.’ My sword was still in my belt, and I knew that if I reached for it, Hook would kill me. He may be many despicable things, but Hook has always been an excellent swordsman. In that moment, time seemed to stop. I looked deep into his eyes and flung the burning timber onto the deck of the Jolly Rodger. As luck would have it, it hit some empty burlap sacks that ignited instantly. Hook gave a scream and lunged toward his ship with his hand outstretched. At that moment, I pulled my sword from my belt, leapt up above him, and slashed at his wrist.”

Peter turned in the air and brought his sword down with incredible speed. Wendy gasped at his sheer physical power.

“I saw Hook’s hand fall from his wrist and the rush of dark blood that came with it. He grabbed his wrist and screamed my name, but I was already on my way up and out of the cavern, up toward the tunnel I had come from. I looked back one more time and saw that the Jolly Rodger had turned into a rapidly consuming flame. The fire had licked its way up the mast and down to the sea. As I watched, the flames reached the stores of the ship where gunpowder was kept, and a massive explosion ripped through its hull. The heat from the flame had turned the cavern into an oven, and pirates were leaping into the water to escape its raging heat. Hook was running away from the Jolly Rodger and toward the black whale bones, screaming to his men to protect her. The heat gave one final blast, so hot I felt it in my bones, and the Jolly Rodger gave a huge creak, as though she were surrendering, and began to sink into the water.

“I watched as her red eye disappeared underneath the black and red sea, the hands of burnt men grasping at her for one last moment before slipping underneath. The last thing I saw before flying up into the tunnel was the outline of Hook, fringed with fire, staring at me as blood dripped from his wrist, and the burning black and white flag of the Jolly Rodger. I knew then that I had started a new story, that Neverland was no longer his, but mine.”

Peter took a breath and pushed back his crown. “I flew through the tunnel as fast as I could, my feet never touching the ground. I had never feared Hook’s wrath as I did that day. As I flew, the white bats that were nesting on the roof of the tunnel stirred, and they began to attack me, their claws scraping my face and arms, their tiny teeth biting my ears. I barreled toward the entrance, fearing I would never make it there alive. Finally, I exploded through the painted wooden barrier and cartwheeled out into the beautiful Neverland sky. The bats flew out all around me, climbing as quickly as they dared toward the bright moon. From there, I could hear the sounds of Hook screaming my name, and I knew that his hunt for me would only intensify now that I had taken his hand and his father’s beloved ship. I returned to Pan Island and told the boys what I had seen.”

He shook his head. “Had I only known the cost then, who is to say that I would have done the same?”

Peter looked devastated, and he turned away from the boys, hiding his face. “Hook’s retaliation was to take Lomasi from me, my princess and the light of her people. She disappeared the next night. I heard from the whores in Port Duette that Hook had thrown her overboard wrapped in chains, a red eye painted on her forehead, a message meant to wound my heart forever. I see her sometimes . . .” He struggled with his words.

“I see her in my dreams, fish flitting in and out of her black hair, pearls where her eyes should be.”

Slowly, he regained his composure.

“After that, the entire Pilvi tribe disappeared, so great was their fear of Hook. I looked for them for weeks, but they haven’t been seen since. They just disappeared.”

The Lost Boys gasped. “And that wasn’t all. The ship that I was forced to leave behind became the Sudden Night, that ship that has since plagued our existence. I had burned the Jolly Rodger to ash, but the Sudden Night rose out of those ashes, a nightmare that would one day appear on the Neverland Sea, a ship built to kill Lost Boys. A ship that can’t be burned, due to some magical gloss that coats its surface. A ship created . . . to kill me.”

There was a heavy silence in the room as the mood dimmed. Peter paused, understanding that this story had ended on a somber note. He stood perfectly still, his eyes lingering on each and every face. When they reached Wendy’s, she found herself mesmerized by his unflinching gaze. Finally, after his long dramatic pause, Peter looked up with a naughty grin, his emerald eyes flashing in the moonlight.

“But at least I know that when Hook comes to take me, he will have to do it with a little bit less.”

He raised one of his arms, his hand pulled back into his shirt-sleeve, leaving nothing there. The room erupted with cheers and fractious laughter. Peter then gave an exaggerated bow, the leaf crown on his head shifting a bit. When he raised his head, his eyes were navy.

“And that, my Lost Boys, is the story of how Hook lost his hand.”

The room erupted with cheers; the lanterns leapt to light with a new, golden energy. The boys swept around Peter, lifting him in the air on their shoulders, someone shoving a goblet of wine into his hand. The crowd carried him out of the door onto the open patio of the Teepee, their vigorous cheers echoing through the night.

That’s when Wendy saw her. Sitting silently in the center of Peter’s throne was a girl.





CHAPTER TWELVE


SHE WAS QUITE PETITE, just a bit shorter than Wendy, as narrow as a reed. A messy tangle of thick white-blond hair, matted at its core, was perched on the top of her head, shoved through with sticks, leaves, and dead flowers. She had very pale skin that stretched over immaculately carved cheekbones, her face perfectly symmetrical, flawless in its ethereal construction. Peachy pink and pearly lips that appeared to be just bitten pursed underneath a narrow nose. There were dark circles under her wide blue eyes, so deep that they appeared as bruises at first glance, giving her a hollowed look. Wendy had seen women who looked like this before, in a narrow alleyway on the dodgy end of her neighborhood, their empty eyes searing as they watched her scurry past. They were regulars in that alley, in that town, of that place, that place she used to live . . . Wendy shook her head and gave two long blinks.