Stars (Wendy Darling #1)(76)

Tink looked down at the ground.

“He fought valiantly, but I heard his cries as it ripped him apart.”

Tink shook her head and turned away, grabbing a bottle of wine from the seat next to her. Wendy felt her eyes swell with tears for this pathetic girl who had seen so much death.

“Then Peter came. He came with his sword, and he fought the darkness, and he won. He found me, picked me up, and took me here. He saved my life. He was just a boy then, and we grew up together, bound forever, closer than siblings, closer than you could ever dream.”

Wendy shivered at the word, imagining Peter and Tink, tangled up in each other, the hungry eyes of the jungle all around them. Tink turned back to Wendy, a smile upon her face.

“But things change. I hope you can forgive what I’ve done to you. I can be . . . jealous of Peter, but who am I to stand in his way? If his desire is for someone else, then I must give him what he wants.”

She reached for Wendy’s glass, sloshing out a dark red wine into her cup. Then she poured her own glass.

“We’ll drink tonight, to new friends.” Her eyes clouded over. “To Wendy-bird. May she fly forever.”

Wendy grasped the cup, her eyes on Tink. An uncomfortable chill was spreading through her chest. She looked up, and Peter’s eyes were on them both, a confused smile on his face. He leapt off the alcove and landed hard beside Tink.

“Tink. What are you doing here?”

She turned to him with a desperate smile.

“I’m doing what you asked,” she whined. “I’m making friends with Wendy.”

Peter gently ran his hand under her chin, turning her face up toward him. “Good. I’m glad. I would really like for you both to be friends.”

Tink looked from side to side, nervously.

“Peter, you should go celebrate with the boys. We are just making lady talk here, nothing that would interest you.”

Peter nodded before stretching out, making himself at home on the chair beside Wendy.

“I’ll stay, I think. What exactly are you two talking about?”

Wendy looked over at Tink.

“Tink was just telling me about the day you saved her life.”

Peter looked hard at Tink before taking Wendy’s hand in his own. The fairy turned away, but not before Wendy saw a star-filled tear drop down her cheek. Wendy shook her hand loose from Peter, though she missed its warmth immediately.

“Actually, I was just thinking that I might head to bed for the night. It’s been a very long—” She was interrupted when a Lost Boy tumbled across her lap in a misguided attempt at a hug. It was Thomas, his dirty blond curls draping over her legs. Michael followed behind him. Peter looked annoyed.

“Boys, get off her.”

Wendy helped Thomas to his feet. He giggled and with a blush held his hands behind his back.

“Michael and I have something for you!”

Wendy turned her head and smiled.

“Oh? It’s not a lizard, is it? Because I already got one of those tonight.”

Thomas shook his head.

“Nope. Here!” He produced a stunning flower, a huge lavender bloom, adorned with spiky yellow fringe on the tips of its fluttery petals. The petals opened and closed of their own accord, teasingly showing a glimpse of a deep scarlet center.

“Oh, boys, it’s beautiful!”

Thomas reached over her. “It needs a drink!”

Before Wendy could stop him, Thomas plopped the flower into her wine glass.

“Thomas! That’s not the same as water.” At their disappointed faces, she shrugged. “I suppose it’s fine.”

She leaned over and gave Thomas a peck on the cheek. He blushed and moved aside. Wendy went to give Michael a kiss as well, and he pulled away from her.

“Yuck, Wendy, I’m too big for that now!”

Wendy felt a tiny pang in her heart at his words but ruffled his hair. Then, in a swirl of dust and feet, the boys were gone. Wendy turned back to Peter and Tink, hoping that the tension between them had dissipated, but instead she found Peter, wide-eyed and shocked, staring at the table. She had never seen true shock play across his face and was taken aback by how young he looked in that moment, just like a little boy. He opened his mouth and, in a voice that seemed to cut through all of Pan Island, bellowed.

“TINK!!!”

Tink leaned in quickly toward Wendy, her mouth trembling in fear.

“Pull the veil,” she whispered.

“What?” Wendy asked, bewildered, but the fairy was already moving. In the blink of an eye, Tink was rushing toward the open doorway of the Table. She pulled back the brown shroud from her shoulders as she ran, and Wendy watched in awe as with each step, each foot of her wings unfurled behind her, translucent webbing pulsing with life, sparking silver dust raining down from the tips. Then a blast of heat shot through the room, and Tink was gone, hurtling herself off the platform into the open air. Peter thundered down right behind her, and before they disappeared from sight, Wendy saw him catch her heel, angrily cursing her name. Then they were both gone, lost to the night. Wendy blinked.

“Peter?”

She turned at the sudden silence. The Table was silent, all the Lost Boys staring at her with somber expressions.

“What . . .”

She raised her eyes and looked up toward the Generals. John was staring down at her, his face flushed with anger. With a raised eyebrow, he gestured to the table in front of her. Wendy turned her head. The flower that Thomas had given her was withered and black, its inky petals scattered below where it sat perched in Wendy’s wine glass. A faint smell of sulfur filled the air, and Wendy watched in horror as the flower curled in on itself, shuddered, and then disintegrated into black soot. The poison had done its job. Wendy grabbed at her throat. Michael tugged her hand.