Stars (Wendy Darling #1)(58)
“I see you!”
She gave a careful push off her feet and then was soaring upward, up toward the burrowed, curved nest of branches overhead. Unable to control her excitement, she let out a squeal, grabbing hold of an outstretched branch to watch the others. Boys were everywhere around her, dirty feet in her face, hands reaching for something to hold, bumping into her. While some soared excellently, others threw up over the barrier of the Nest. From below she heard a disgusted “OY!” With envy, she watched as John flipped easily from corner to corner, using his force to propel other Lost Boys into a drifting circle. He twisted and turned in the air, learning quickly how to manipulate his body in flight. He tossed his new sword into the air, flipped over his feet, and then pushed off the ground, meeting the sword in the air, catching it expertly. Then he flipped again and flew backward toward the ground. He spun Michael around and left his brother circling in the air as he flew circles around him. Michael giggled.
“John! Stop it!” Wendy narrowed her eyes and let out a sigh as her hand continued to clutch the branch. Some things just came so naturally to him—mathematics, astronomy, and now flying. Of course. Of course John was good at flying. While she wasn’t as bad as the boys who were stuck in the branches of the Nest, squawking for Peter to help them, she wasn’t great either. She had a hard time turning her body in the direction she wanted it to go and often ended up whirling right when she meant to go left. Her feet were drifting upward, pulling the rest of her body up with them, when she felt familiar hands slide across her shoulders.
“You can fly by me,” Peter said, laughing, his proud voice instantly making her smitten, even here while she drifted in a room of flying boys. As she twisted around to meet him, she felt a sharp pang of guilt in her heart. She couldn’t imagine why as she gazed deep into his green eyes, lighting up at the sight of her. For a moment, it felt as if it were just them, drifting above the world, their eyes locked, boys floating silently by like stars in the sky. But then Michael flew up and grabbed Wendy’s leg, giggling uncontrollably.
“Wendy! Watch this!” He pushed himself off her leg and managed to fly awkwardly across the Nest, his elated laughter filling the room as he unsuccessfully chased his toes.
Peter’s eyes met hers. “Are you nervous to come?”
Wendy looked down and blushed. “Of course not. I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you,” he whispered. “Between you and me, I don’t actually think that there will be any fighting. We will take the liquor and get out. See, that’s not very exciting, now is it? No reason to be nervous. I’ve always wanted to see the Vault, and I’m so excited to see it with you.”
He let a finger brush carelessly across her cheek, and then he was off, soaring quickly to the front of the room, occasionally batting floating Lost Boys out of his way. Kitoko floated silently nearby, watching the boys and Wendy with observant eyes. Wendy floated up next to him.
“What should I do now?”
Kitoko looked over at her. “Whatever Peter tells us.” He kindly pointed to the right. “In the meantime, I would take a weapon and then assemble over there. Then we fly.”
His eyes then turned up at the corners. He was smiling. It was the first time Wendy had seen it. “Then we drink. I prefer reds.” He gave Wendy a friendly pat on the shoulder.
A weapon? Such a task seemed intimidating. She pushed herself down to the wall of weapons, where the dangerous instruments sat. Wendy frowned as she looked at a huge silver sword, its hilt the open mouth of a dragon. She could hardly see herself swinging away with this sword, let alone any sword. She didn’t even know the first thing about holding a sword. She pulled herself hand over hand toward the end of the line of weapons, carefully placing her fingers in between the thick branches that surrounded the Nest. When she reached the end of the line, she turned back with a sigh. Nothing. She pulled herself backward over the line of weapons, deciding that maybe nothing was a better option than something that would make her look, at best, quite idiotic. Her hands came to rest on an enormous golden bow, easily the largest weapon of the bunch. She was smiling at the thought of lugging this behemoth anywhere when something winked at her in the filtered light of the Nest, nestled in a thick tangle of branches behind the ostentatious bow.
Wendy’s nimble fingers—the fingers of a piano player—skillfully untangled the bramble around the winking metal, thorny branches scraping under her nails. Finally, they reached into a leafy cluster and pulled out a petite dagger with an ivory handle. Intricate carvings marked the sides of the handle: ships at sea, tossed about by the waves; trees curled into patterned wings; a sun and moon connected by whorls of wind on opposite sides of the pommel. A small blue gemstone, the shape and size of a feather, marked the center of the hilt. The stone seemed to have a great depth to its blue, as if it were a portal to the deepest part of the sea. Wendy loved it immediately, turning it over in her hands, marveling at how it fit perfectly in her palm, how light and lovely it was. She blinked twice. Though it couldn’t be possible, she was sure that for a moment she saw the leafy cluster that had once held the dagger give a shudder and curl back into itself. She looked again. Everything was still. Perhaps she had seen it because she was moving, slowly floating upward, which was what happened when she let go of anything grounding her. Shyly, unsure of where exactly one put a dagger, she tucked it into the waistband of her pants and prayed that she wouldn’t accidentally stab herself. Even now, with the blade cool against her skin, Wendy felt like an imposter. She was not a warrior, or even a boy. Everything about holding this dagger was reminding her that she was a well-mannered lady who had no place here, and yet—she would rather be nowhere else. For a reason she couldn’t fully explain to herself, she knew the dagger was her secret. Perhaps it was the thrill of a potential adventure working its way into her mind, thread by tiny thread. She felt a whoosh of air pass below her, and then Peter was beside her, pulling her down from the top of the Nest, his cheeks flushed with excitement.