Stars (Wendy Darling #1)(57)
The towheaded boy with bouncing ringlets scampered up next to Peter.
“Thomas! I have a very important job for you. Can you handle that?”
Thomas looked as though he was going to faint with excitement. “Yes, Peter. Of course, I mean, yes, sir, Peter, sir. Sir.”
“Can you watch over Michael Darling while we are out on the raid? Can you keep him safe and out of trouble?”
Thomas nodded, his huge blue eyes exploding with pride. “Yes, SIR! I will!”
Peter turned away. “Then it’s settled. Wendy comes with me.”
The anger simmering in John’s eyes could have set the Nest ablaze. He stared at his sister with unbridled contempt.
“You can take her, but she’s not going to be much help unless you need some hair ribbons tied or a piano played.”
Wendy shot daggers his direction and turned to Peter. “I’ll go.”
Peter leapt into the air, his mirrored armor sending shards of light all over the Nest as he pointed east. “Fantastic! Wendy, there are some extra clothes in the hut next to us, just past the Nest. Why don’t you change and then join us back here.”
It wasn’t a question. Wendy nodded her head and walked away just as Peter clapped his hands and began instructing the boys on what they were doing and where they were going. She climbed down the rickety wooden ladder and onto a thin wooden platform that linked to the rest of the tree. Pan Island was silent outside of the Nest, an eerie sound that she had never experienced here. Without the constant ruckus of boys, wind hummed through the tree branches, and she could hear the light crashing of the waves far below. Insects buzzed and fluttered past her as she made her way quickly down the walkway. Ducking her head, she entered a dirty hut filled almost to the roof with piles and piles of boys’ clothing, some clean, some dirty, all smelly. After a few minutes she found a semiclean long blue tunic and some loose gray pants that hit her at the shins and cinched with a white ribbon around her calves. She tied a purple scarf around her head to keep the hair out of her eyes. She jogged back to the Nest, where Peter was finishing up a grand speech.
“The pirates steal from the innocent people of Port Duette. They take from the Lost Boys, from the mermaids! Hook and his pirates are the withering disease of this island, and today we will strike a blow to them that will take the fun out of their frivolities. We will toast them as we toast ourselves! HA!”
His voice rose.
“Most importantly, without alcohol, we will hope that Hook’s loyal soldiers will realize that he is a coward and a limbless freak.”
He changed his voice into the signature growl of a pirate.
“And arrr, we will hope that by taking away their rum that we will slowly sow the seeds of a rebellion, deep into their thirsty veins! Now, let’s go, you landlubbers!”
He did a little jig before dropping his voice back to his captivating tenor. The Lost Boys erupted into wild cheers. Peter grinned.
“All righty, boys—are you ready to go risk life and limb for a drink of wine? Then let’s go have ourselves an adventure!”
The Nest filled with the wild chants of hundreds of boys. Peter rose slowly into the air, and the Lost Boys began reaching out their hands to him, raising them above their heads, their fingers splayed in worship. Peter rose higher, and the glittering dust around him seemed to be funneling down from his head to the tips of his fingers.
“More!” he whispered to the boys. “More.”
The cheers of the boys rose to a deafening chant, John and Michael among them, screaming and shouting Peter’s name. John had tears on his face, as did some of the younger boys, their cries reaching a fevered pitch. Peter’s fingers began curling all the silver dust circled his forearms now, rushing up and down his arms, throbbing with each breath he took. It began to glow, a white heat that filled the Nest, until the shimmering dust pulsed with the same white glow that she had seen Peter give Oxley the day before. It ran up and down his veins, cracking through the pores of his skin.
Peter Pan was made of light.
The voices rang throughout the Nest as Peter’s hands slowly opened. Then the voices fell silent, and after a moment, Peter forcefully clapped his hands out in front of him with a loud crack. The white light shot out through his hands and filled the Nest, pouring out in a single giant wave that rushed over every Lost Boy. It filled every corner of the Nest, racing from one end to another, a circle of light that crested before pouring out through the holes in the branches. Wendy felt it hit her body, felt the power of it rush through her, over her, around her. It filled her with its warmth, sinking into her cold bones, a warm feeling of sky and freedom, a comforting warmth, an exhilarating breath. Her eyes flitted around the room to find Michael.
Something at the edge of the Nest caught her eye. With a quick glance she saw Tink heave herself over the branches and let herself fall down into the tree. A trail of glittering silver dust ran up the side of the Nest, a splattered pattern of stars that stopped at the cusp of the branchy cup. The fairy had moved so fast that she was gone before Wendy had even blinked. She looked back up at Peter. He was grinning, laughing now, his hands clutched at his stomach, pointing at the Lost Boys who were now all rising off the floor, bouncing off the walls of the Nest with delight. Michael squealed as he turned over his feet and bumped into the thatched wall face-first.
“Wendy! Look at me! I’m flying!”