Robots vs. Fairies(66)

Peter Pan’s Lost Boys had been unwanted. Unloved. They fell from their strollers or ran away, and when nobody bothered to claim them, Peter took them away.

The Found Girls were the opposite. Tinker Bell stole them from good families, from loving parents and siblings. She took children who expected to be loved and to love in return. She fed on their love. On their faith and their belief.

She didn’t love them, of course. Fairies were incapable of feeling more than one thing at a time.

Maybe that was why they stayed. Her apathy drove the Found Girls to try harder to please her, hoping one day to earn her love. Praying that if they worked hard enough and fast enough, she might look on them with warmth and tenderness. That she might take them away to fly among the clouds, not on some endless hunt for Peter Pan, but for the sheer joy and ecstasy of the cold mist and wind on their faces.

That devotion, that belief was key to Tinker Bell’s immortality. Belief had cured her of Hook’s poison all those years ago. The belief of her Found Girls was stronger, more focused. More obsessive. So long as they believed, no one could stop her.

Shoot her, and the wound would seal. Burn her, and belief would heal the flesh. Sever her limbs, and they would reattach or regrow.

I’d seen it once, long ago. A single gunshot. A spurt of sparkling blood and dust. Tinker Bell falling toward the Earth, only to recover in midair and streak away like a golden comet, a shooting star, mocking those who tried to ground her.

I grabbed a handful of tissues and slashed them over my wet cheeks.

Bringing my Lillian home was only the beginning. After so many years, she’d have forgotten her true family. I had to prepare myself, because she would fight with all her strength to stay with Tinker Bell. Even after the fairy was gone, Lillian would try to run away. She’d cry herself to sleep and wake up in tears from dreams of magic. She’d spit her hatred in my face.

Clover had only been gone a couple of days. She should have an easier time returning to her old life. She might even come to forget her time with the Found Girls, rewriting these days into dream or story. But Lillian . . . with all she’d been through, my little girl might never come back to me.

I punched the wall hard enough to crack the drywall and bloody my knuckles. The pain cut through tears and despair, helping me focus. All this time I’d clung to my belief that I’d find Tinker Bell. That I’d see my daughter again.

Belief was all I had left.

*

“Who is Captain Hook?” he asked with interest when she spoke of the arch enemy.

“Don’t you remember,” she asked, amazed, “how you killed him and saved all our lives?”

“I forget them after I kill them,” he replied carelessly.

When she expressed a doubtful hope that Tinker Bell would be glad to see her he said, “Who is Tinker Bell?”

“O Peter,” she said, shocked; but even when she explained he could not remember.

“There are such a lot of them,” he said. “I expect she is no more.”

—J. M. Barrie

*

I returned to Kensington Gardens the following night, my head a tangle of half-remembered nightmares. I reached the vandalized statue of Peter and tried to calm my thoughts. When I drew in a breath, I was alone. When I exhaled, I was surrounded.

There were more Found Girls than before. Fifty? A hundred? I couldn’t make them all out. Some flew from the skies. Others appeared out of the shadows.

Tinker Bell swooped down to alight on étoilée’s shoulder. The girl preened at the honor.

The fairy looked nothing like modern merchandizing would have people believe. Her white hair was cut short to keep it from tangling in her oversize, insectlike wings. Her pale, smooth skin literally glowed in the moonlight. She wore a translucent gown, brown and veined like old leaves. Fairy dust flaked from her exposed arms and legs. Even I felt a stirring of longing and awe in my heart.

When she spoke, every girl fell silent.

“Where is Peter?”

“Where are Lillian and Clover?” I countered.

Tinker Bell waved a hand, and two Found Girls dragged forth a bound captive. Clover’s wrists were knotted behind her. A dirty rag was tied around her mouth. Fairy light reflected from her wet face. Tears of fear, after being stolen from her family? Or tears at the thought of being taken from her tiny goddess?

“What about Lillian?”

“Two children for one is unfair. Peter for Clover.”

“Peter Pan is worth a hundred children.” I stepped closer, trusting her hatred to keep me safe. So long as I knew the way to Peter, she didn’t dare hurt me. “Who knows how long it will be until he next returns to this world? Most years, he forgets. Just like he forgot you.”

Tinker Bell turned into a golden firework shooting directly toward my eyes. Had I pushed too far? She stopped so close I could feel the wind from her wings, taste the bittersweet dust that fell from her skin.

“I’ll make him remember. I’ll make him believe.” She took a lock of my hair, stretching it between her hands like a garrote. “And then I’ll make him pay for abandoning me.”

“He promised to visit Wendy and her descendants, but her family moved on ages ago. They’re not in London anymore, and neither is he. But he is in this world again. He came back, and I found him. Give me Lillian, and—” My voice broke. “And I’ll take you to him.”