Stars (Wendy Darling #1)(51)
“Trying to remember something?”
Her voice was high, like the tinkling of bells, though the dripping malice behind it was unmistakable. It was the same voice from the bridge, the same voice she had heard crying on the night of their arrival. Wendy was unsure of how to answer, and so she stayed silent, unmoving. The girl uncurled herself from Peter’s chair and stepped toward Wendy, her features becoming sharper as she approached. Her clothes rustled as she walked, so bulky that they seemed to barely touch her frame. A faded brown dress wrapped around her shoulders and cascaded to the floor, strips of fabric sewn together without care—it was lumpy and unattractive. She had cinched the dress at the waist with a vine, but other than that, there was no color visible. Even with her drab clothing, it was impossible not to notice the shawl that was draped across her shoulders, so long that its ends were hooked around her thumbs, pulling the fabric taut across her back. The shawl was meant to conceal whatever massive feature lumped out of her back, a shape so large that she could as well have been concealing another small girl underneath it.
Then Wendy understood. The wings. She was concealing her wings. She silently approached Wendy on tiny feet, her steps making no sound, her arms and the shawl wrapped protectively around herself. Her lips up close were cracked and bruised, her dispirited face coming ever closer. When she breathed, her body seemed to give a small shudder, as though the act was painful for her. The word broken flickered through Wendy’s mind as the girl drew up next to her. Without warning, the girl reached out to Wendy’s face, her hand small and delicate, her head level with Wendy’s nose. Wendy didn’t move, not wanting to alarm this creature who had so terrified her on the bridge. The girl looked up into Wendy’s eyes, and Wendy struggled to stifle a gasp. Inside of the fairy’s eyes, resting on the bottom of her irises, small stars lit up and went dark again, one after another, flashes in the dark. This, Wendy thought, is deep magic. Even though the girl was small and slight, the hot power radiating out from her was palpable, and Wendy found herself frozen with fear.
“Nothing extraordinary,” the girl whispered, running her small hand over Wendy’s cheeks. “Normal face, boring muddy hair, strange purple flecks in the eyes.” She clicked her tongue. “What does Peter see? Nothing I can see, not with my eyes.”
Wendy didn’t even breathe until the fairy stepped back from her, narrowing her eyes accusingly.
“I can’t understand; what does he see in you?” She tilted her head sideways. “You’re nothing but a silly, ugly little girl.”
Wendy tried to remember how to speak, paralyzed as she was. Finally, she stuck out her hand, her voice shaking. “You must be Tink. I’m Wendy Darling. My brothers are John and Michael. I’m pleased to meet you. I’ve never met a fairy before.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “Yes, my name is Tink. It means heavenly sky, or . . .” she paused, “in other translations, torture. And no, you will never meet another fairy again,” she snapped, turning her head away. “I am the last of my people, the sole fairy of Neverland.”
“Then I am sorry for your loss,” Wendy said sincerely.
Tink’s head whipped around to gaze back at her. “What did you say?”
“I said I’m sorry. That you have no others of your kind. That must be very lonely.”
There was confusion in Tink’s starry eyes. “How dare you mock me?” She moved toward Wendy, but to Wendy’s great relief, Peter landed back in the room with a resounding thud.
“Tink! Wendy! My girls! I’m so glad that you are getting to know one another!” Peter opened his arms wide, and Tink scurried into them, faster than Wendy had ever seen a mere human move.
“Peter!” she gushed. “Your story, it was magnificent! You were so brave! So handsome and so brave!”
Peter flushed. “Tink. That’s enough. You’ve heard that story a thousand times.”
She looked up at him with adoration, a pink blush rising in her pale cheeks. “Yes, but every time you tell it, it’s like new. Only this time, there were bats!”
Peter’s face tightened for a second before it dissolved into an uncomfortable smile. With a sigh, Peter reached down and tussled Tink’s messy hair. “Are these zumeria blooms? That must be why you smell so nice.”
Tink blushed. “I know you love that smell.”
“I do.” Tink laced her hand around Peter’s and looked over at Wendy defiantly. “What shall we do tonight? I could make the trees sing for you. Shall we count the stars? We could go to our special place and watch the sea glow. You haven’t been there in a long time. Peter. Peter?”
Peter was staring at Wendy, his green eyes unmoving from hers. Even as he embraced Tink emotionlessly, his eyes never left her face. Tink was getting agitated.
“Don’t you remember what you said last time? Don’t you remember?” She turned her head to stare up at him, the stars in her eyes brightening when he turned his face to look down at her. Her lips trembled. She reached out to stroke his cheekbone, and he made a disgusted sound. Then, with a grimace, he shrugged out of Tink’s embrace and untangled his hand from her own.
“I was actually just about to fly Wendy up to her hut for the night. I’m sure the Lost Boys would love to hear you sing. They are down in the Table, probably eating the last of our cheese. Go find Oxley or Darby.”