Stars (Wendy Darling #1)(69)

“Go!” she yelled, not understanding why the boys were not moving. Peter held his ground and watched the two pirates reach the top of the skull. What could she do? Without thinking, Wendy propelled herself down to the rock, landing hard, the tiny bottle falling out of her blouse and rolling down the side of the skull. Peter was staring at one of the pirates with a palpable hunger as he pointed his sword in his direction.

“Smith!” he hissed. “So good to see you. I hope you can give Hook my regards, perhaps in the form of a disembodied head?”

The man he had spoken to let out a gruff laugh. He was twice the size of Peter, with curly black hair slick with oil and thick eyebrows, his forearms as large as grapefruits and covered with tattoos of angels and demons. A banshee leered at her from just behind his elbow. Suddenly, all of the boys seemed very much like children. This man was most certainly not a child, and Wendy felt the toxic chill of fear fill her bloodstream.

“The Captain wouldn’t have your regards, not even in that form, you blistering pustule!”

“Stay back, girl!” the other pirate hissed at her, a bloody knife in his hands. “Don’t move.”

“Don’t touch her,” Peter snapped. “Do it, and I’ll kill you twice.”

The man named Smith raised his eyebrows. “Peter Pan has a little girlfriend, does he? I know someone who might be very interested in this revelation. What is this, the second one you’ve ever had? Do you even know what to do with this pretty girl, Peter? If you don’t, I’ll show yah.”

“Don’t talk about her,” Peter growled. “You stupid oaf.”

The man shrugged. Wendy could see a fierce intelligence dancing behind the man’s eyes as he looked at Peter and then back at Abbott and Kitoko. Smith’s fingers were twitching.

“So, who feels like dying in this tired dance today?”

Peter’s gaze was steady. “Abbott, you can take him.”

The second pirate was creeping closer to Wendy. Peter leapt into the air, flinging himself between them. Abbott looked over at Peter with dead eyes, before turning back and lunging at Smith. He was too late. The pirate leapt back before pulling a hidden pistol out of his coat, shooting it not toward Abbott, but right into the middle of their group. They scattered, and the man ran hard toward Kitoko, who was on the edge of the skull. Abbott knelt to the ground before throwing his spear toward the pirate’s back. It bounced harmlessly off his shoulder armor before he grabbed Kitoko roughly, bringing a serrated knife up to his throat. He turned to Peter.

“Now . . . here’s what’s going to happen, little boys. You are going to give us back all the bottles you took from us. Peter Pan is going to call back the rest of the boys, and we will get every last bottle, or so help me God, I will slit this boy’s throat. No one touches our booze.”

Kitoko’s eyes were wide with fear as he tried desperately to untangle the man’s arm from around his neck. His mouth formed the word “Peter” again and again as he looked at Peter, terrified. Wendy’s heart was hammering so fast that she clutched at her chest.

“Peter! Give him the bottles! Call them back!”

Peter looked, panicked, at Wendy, then at the pirate and back at Kitoko again.

“It’s too risky. To bring the boys back. They’ll kill us all! It’s a trap!”

The man straightened up and pointed his knife at Peter. “I’m not playing you, little boy! Have them drop the bottles in the river, and your friend will live.”

Peter’s gaze never wavered. “I cannot risk the lives of all my boys for one. He’ll kill us, I’m telling you! Kitoko, you understand . . .”

Kitoko nodded at Peter before closing his eyes. Abbott reached for his spear, yelling Kitoko’s name. Wendy opened her mouth to scream, but it was too late. With a terrible grin, the man opened up Kitoko’s throat, pushing his dagger in before tearing across his collar. There was a rush of bright red blood, and Kitoko fell facedown on the rock, his body becoming nothing more than a loose rag doll. Wendy heard nothing after that, as a fog of shock surrounded her. Peter was yelling, his face afraid and his arms strong around her. Abbott was pointing as they rose into the air. There was a loud bang, and the hair on the right side of her head felt whipped away, the smell of gunpowder on her cheek. Wendy looked out to the sea, to the two ships bearing down on the Vault, to the men swarming off the sides of the ship, so many, climbing over the river like ants, waving weapons and screaming. So many. She felt Peter’s body tighten his hold around her as they climbed into the mist. Behind the two ships, a black shape was appearing, twice their height and wider than both the ships together. The hulking mass growing closer, the fog slowly pulling away. Something in the blackness winked at her—a mirror?

“GO!” Peter screamed. “It’s the Night!”

And suddenly they were climbing up into the sky, far away from the bloodied chaos below, far from where Kitoko was lying on the rock bed, all alone as the pirates ran over his body. Wendy rested her head against Peter’s thundering heart. Up, up, up.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN


WENDY DIDN’T REMEMBER FLYING HOME. She remembered the heat of Peter as they rose through the mist, the blood that soaked through his shirt and pressed against her cheek, warm and sticky. She remembered Kitoko’s face. When they landed on the thatched roof, the Pan flag flapping in the wind, there was a great rush of boys. Peter set her down gently onto the wooden walkway that linked the Moon Tower to the rest of the tree. She blinked in the afternoon light.