Shadow

by Kara Swanson

  Not what I expected to hear.

  I thud back to the deck with a half shrug. “Yeah.”

  Claire gently strokes the wings of a fairy sitting on her shoulder as she looks down at me. “You’re more weighted than the Peter I first met. The Ben I first met.”

  I don’t speak for a long moment. I want to brush her comment away.

  But I can’t. I can’t keep putting this off.

  Not with her.

  I take a deep breath. “Seeing my island like this, seeing what happened with Connor and . . . Nibs and how I hurt them all in so many ways . . .” The pixies drift around Claire to float in the air beside me, enveloping us both in a haze of golden dust. But despite that, a chill races over my skin, and I force the words out. “I’m definitely not the same boy I was. That boy has blood on his hands.” My voice breaks on that last word, just thinking of it all.

  Of Tink and Nibs, their lifeless bodies and the coldness that even now haunts my sleep.

  “I’m not quite sure who I am anymore,” I tell her, voice cracked. “I just know that I can’t let this place become any more fractured than it is. I’d give anything to try and piece it all back together.”

  Only then do I lift my eyes to her, to this enchanting Pixie-Girl floating off the ground, swathed in light and magic and all the things I’d held her and her brother back from for so long.

  My eyes burn as I shove out the final apology that has been burning me up inside. “I’m so sorry for Connor, Claire. I hurt him worse than I ever thought I was capable of.”

  I blink fiercely and reach for the rail to steady myself. “I know I’ll never be able to fully repay you for everything I’ve done, all the ways I’ve hurt you and your brother and this whole island.” My vision blurs as stupid, salty tears streak down my face. I rub them away with a shaking fist. I look at her through the blur. “But I’ll do everything I can, every day, to try and make up for it.”

  Claire has been silent in midair, just listening. Suddenly, her arms are around my neck, body pressed so close to mine, face buried in my shoulder. She holds me so tight it’s almost hard to breathe, but the words she whispers in my ear somehow fill my chest more than oxygen ever could.

  “I love you, Peter Pan.” Her soft lips skim my neck. “Despite everything, I love you.” The words cut through the concrete that has encased my chest.

  She pulls back and gazes into my eyes. “Maybe I love you because of those things. Because you’re not perfect, but you are doing everything you can to make it right.”

  Her dress rustles against me as I circle my arms around her waist, gazing at her in disbelief as she continues. “You say you don’t know who you are anymore?” She reaches up to gently wipe the tears from my jawline. “Well, I do. You may be the boy who lost nearly everything because of his mistakes and the brokenness of other people that he couldn’t control . . . but you are also the boy who chose not to run. Who returned to his broken Never Never Land and has fought to bring light to this place, even when the shadows have nearly drowned it all. You love Neverland more than anyone could—and I love you for it.” She brushes her fingers against the fringes of my curls and lays her forehead against mine. My eyes fall closed, listening to every word Claire utters like each one is filled with magic.

  “You have always believed in the impossible, Peter. Don’t give up yet.”

  We’re breathing in unison, and she’s wrapped in my arms, face pressed so close. This girl who said she loves me. I’m not sure entirely what to do with that. But I know one thing: I’m never letting her go.

  “Can I kiss you?” I whisper. I can feel her smile from where her mouth is pressed against my cheek.

  “You better.”

  With a light chuckle, I lean in, tipping my chin and capturing that enchanting little mouth. She’s warm and soft and wrapping one arm around my neck, the other hand sneaking deeper into my hair, fingers in my curls. Her dust fills the air, and we rise off the ground. We float backward, until the backs of my knees hit the railing behind me. I perch on the edge, still holding Claire, pulling her in closer. Thumb rubbing small circles on her spine as I deepen the kiss.

  I only pull away when we’re both gasping for breath. I take in her mussed, dazed expression. And the glint in those big blue eyes. She pushes off my chest to sit up a little straighter, and I manage a sloppy grin. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

  But her mischievous smirk catches me off guard. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to do that.”

  I grin. “Touché.”

  Reaching out, I gather her into my arms again, pulling her closer until our noses are pressed against each other.

  “You know what, Pixie-Girl?”

  Her eyes spark. “What?”

  “I think I’ve fallen for you.”

  And I kiss her again, tipping us backward, off the railing, and over the edge of the platform. We drop away from the treehouses, slowly falling through empty space toward the jungle floor far below.

  We’re wrapped in each other as we fall, Claire’s pixie dust coating us, igniting the air and slowing our descent, as we gently drift downward.

  I have no idea what’s below us, but at the moment, with this beautiful lass securely in my arms, all warmth and life and shining magic, I don’t care what we’re falling toward.

  Only that we’re going together.

  Our feet finally touch mossy jungle floor. I gently loosen my hold. Claire is laughing. She melts against me, burying her heated face in my chest.

  “I can’t believe I just did that.”

  I drop a kiss on the top of her head. “We just did that.”

  She playfully hits my shoulder. “Yes, we did.”

  Claire takes a deep breath of humid air. “Where are we now?” She takes a step back, but I capture one of her hands, refusing to fully let her go. Not sure I can ever do that now.

  She lifts her face up at the massive trees towering above us, the treehouses that are an interwoven wooden patchwork far above our heads. I follow her gaze to the trees and then I look down at the mossy jungle floor. I let out a long whistle when I realize where we are.

  “Isn’t that handy.” Without bothering to explain, I start running forward, feet lifting off the ground, pulling her with me as I fly quickly through the weave of tree trunks.

  “Where are we going, Peter?” Claire pours on a little more dust, flying level with me.

  “You’ll see.” I wink. She rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide the glow.

  And then I can see it just ahead of us. A sphere of silver rising out of the jungle floor. We fly to its very edge, and I take in the wide, curved star that protrudes like some kind of massive, shining geyser. Half of the circular star is buried beneath the ground, but the top half of the sphere crackles and pops, shooting silver sparks through the air.

  Claire’s hand covers her mouth in disbelief. “It’s a . . . star. It’s really a star.”

  I nod, watching it sway and spark. I hold my breath and listen and hear the soft melody. The faintest magical hum that flows from the silver liquid that dances and spills and turns over and over.

  Claire kneels beside it. “Can I touch it?”

  Ordinarily I wouldn’t recommend touching the heart of a living star, but the silver sphere no longer seems as bright or burning as it used to be.

  Swallowing at the sudden pang in my chest, I nod. “I think so.”

  She reaches out, and a few drops of shining silver starlight land on her palm. The silvery liquid slides across her skin, and flecks of golden dust stand out against it.

  “This is what Paige wants to corrupt?” Claire’s voice is trembling. “She wants to insert Connor’s shadow into this?”

  I crouch beside her and reach out to dip in a finger. The silver light isn’t as hot as it should be, but it still traces thin streams down my fingertip. “Aye. I’m not sure exactly how they plan on doing that. Not that I intend to let them get close enough to try.”

&nbs
p; I examine the star more intently. My chest tightens when I see dark veins are crisscrossing the dusty ground leading right up to it. Some of the dark lines have even crept up the shimmering silver face. That would explain why it is less bright, less hot than usual.

  Claire is watching the star quietly, intently. Watching the silver sweep and dance and arc with texture of its own. “Does she have a name?”

  My brow furrows. “The star? Not that I know.”

  Claire gently lays her hand against the curved, rippling edge of the sphere. “I think she’d like one. She’s a little sick like the rest of the island, isn’t she?”

  I nod, pinching my lips to the side. “Yeah.”

  The haze of golden dust that has been surrounding Claire sweeps out, skims down her arm, and soaks into the portion of the silver star around her palm. “Don’t worry,” she says in an assuring voice to the star. “We’re going to find a way to heal everything. I promise.”

  I blink, staring at her. She speaks to stars?

  I just hope we can keep that promise.

  Neverland

  I kneel beside the star, watching her dance and sway, listening to the gentle rhythm of her heartbeat. Silveria. The name just pops into my head and somehow seems right. Peter moves a little closer and drapes an arm around my shoulders as we watch the star breathe and whisper to us. The moment is more peaceful than I thought I’d ever have again when trapped inside that cell for so long.

  The tinkle of bells greets my ears, and I glance at Peter, wondering for a moment if I’d imagined it. His face breaks into a wide smile, and he whispers, “Look up.”

  I tip my head back and find that the trees have come alive. Thousands of bright, bobbing pixies have filled the canopy, streaks of golden light that are descending toward us. A blanket of light and golden threads of pixie dust and glittering wings.

  The pixies hid among Lily’s people for months, but something about our arrival has coaxed them out.

  I stand and lift my hands toward them as the array of pixies flutters toward us. Grateful tears well, reminding me just how thankful I am that they are all alive. I’d been terrified when Connor claimed all their lights had gone out.

  Even in the midst of all the shadows that claw across this island, a bit of light has still managed to survive.

  Peter laughs as the pixies fly down to spin threads of gleaming dust around us. They laugh and chatter in those singsong voices, the entire grove filling with the music of my people. These small, glowing creatures whose magic also runs in my veins.

  The pixies circle me, perching on the fluttering leaves of my dress, nuzzling my shoulder and braiding portions of my hair that pulled free from my tumble with Peter. Their song grows louder, windchimes that fill the air in time to the gentle whish of the star.

  Peter nudges me. “They’re saying, Welcome home.”

  I smile. “I know.”

  The pixies burrow into Peter’s threadbare green hoodie, tugging him toward me and tittering at him in their high-pitched voices. He lifts up his palm and a few land there. I recognize one of them, and Peter cocks his head and grins down at her.

  “Glimmer! I wondered what had happened to you. Good to see you, little lass.”

  She stands on the tips of his fingers, little fists planted on her hips, growing red as she chatters at him. Peter’s brows arch. “Oh, right. Well, you’re the one who left when we went to Blindman’s Bluff to help Claire. I would have searched for you if I’d had a blasted idea where you’d gone.”

  Her coloring fades to orange, and she shakes a small finger at him. Peter snorts. “Well we were being dragged away by a bunch of sirens! What did you want me to do? Pop my ’ead out of the water and be like, ‘Hoy, Glimmer, meet us at the lagoon!’”

  Glimmer rolls her eyes and gives a little sigh, but she seems pacified. I put my face down to her little figure. “Oh, Glimmer! I’m so glad you’re all right! And thank you so much for taking the pouch of dust to Peter. You were very brave.” I gently stroke her small cheek with a finger. “We wouldn’t have gotten this far without you.”

  Glimmer beams, her coloring growing bright and golden again. The other pixies continue to fly around us, chattering gaily. A little male pixie, wearing a leafy top hat and pair of suspenders made out of tiny vines, lands on Peter’s hand, shoving Glimmer out of the way, who is outraged at the treatment.

  He crosses his little arms and stares up at Peter, chattering something at him. Peter shrugs. “Sorry, mate. I didn’t bring my pipes with me and can’t play them. Maybe later I can make some.”

  The poor little gentleman seems so dejected his wings droop. I bite back a smile and hesitantly offer, “I could always sing a bit, if that would help?”

  The pixies explode with bright, vibrant gold hues, overjoyed at the idea. What have I gotten myself into?

  I glance at the treehouses far above our heads. Somewhere up there, Tootles and Lily and her people are rallying to join us to create a barrier of protection from my own brother. It seems odd to think of singing at a time like this . . .

  I look at the pixies surrounding me with their excited faces and their even more vibrant golden color.

  Maybe this is exactly what they need.

  Sometime soon, Connor will arrive, and the world will become tense and violent again. A bit of joy in the midst of the chaos is what we all need.

  “If you sing,” Peter cajoles me, “I’ll teach you a fairy jig.”

  I have missed dancing. “Deal.”

  “All right, then. Jig first!”

  Peter slips his hands into mine, helps me to my feet, and pulls me close for the first few steps. The pixies are giddy with excitement, flying in little dizzying loops around us.

  “Move your foot here . . . like this . . . and then like this . . .”

  He’s a surprisingly good teacher, and our bare feet dip and dance across the jungle floor as he sweeps me in toward him and then pushes me out again.

  The pixies have partnered off and are replicating the same dance, only through the air and without my chronic fumbling.

  After a while, I get the basic steps down, and I begin to sing. Peter’s eyes are dancing too, and the spray of silver from the star sparkles behind him.

  “Dancing in the moonlight . . .”

  My steps interlace with Peter’s, and he pulls me in.

  “Singing with the stars . . .”

  He spins me out, and my toes tap on the mossy ground to the same rhythm of the floating pixies.

  “Every note a promise . . .”

  The pixies quicken their pace, swirling and leaping and spinning in unison. There are dozens of small couples hand in hand, wings brushing and glittering.

  “That the night is darkest before the dawn . . .”

  Peter has pulled me in again, and as he quickens his own pace, my feet dance around his, a patchwork of movements and fluid steps. The pixies have begun to harmonize with my singing with their own airy voices, like the melodic symphony of a hundred chimes ringing through the grove.

  “Whispering an enchanted—”

  Suddenly, a faint sound echoes through the woods, and the pixies all freeze at once, suspended midair. Glimmer hurls herself at my mouth, cutting off the song.

  I pry Glimmer away as I turn to Peter. “What’s going on?”

  He places a finger on his lips and bends toward the nearest pixie. The little creature is trembling, wings humming as it floats.

  “What’s wrong?” Peter mouths.

  But it’s Glimmer who answers, hovering just between Peter and me. Her big eyes are filled with dread, and her color has faded to an almost gray. “They’re here. The bad ones.”

  My chest grows tight and I look toward the darker, sprawling portion of the jungle.

  That’s when I see them. Thick, coiling veins snaking across the ground toward us. And just beyond them, tramping silently through the woods, shouldering weapons and burn scars are the Lost Boys. Slightly at the head of the pack, the twins and Cubby
just behind him.

  My heart twinges, seeing the place where Nibs normally would have been.

  If the Lost Boys are already—

  “Connor and Paige must be close too,” Peter finishes my thought aloud and then springs into action.

  He sweeps his hands upward as he addresses the pixies in a hurried whisper. “You need to hide! Go back up to the village and wait there.”

  The pixies thaw out of their frozen state. But Glimmer looks at me, as do many of the pixies, as if waiting for my command.

  I incline my head, keeping my voice low. “Yes, you’d better hide.”

  At that, the pixies all shoot back up toward the distant foliage. They streak like little stars, falling back up into the sky, heading for the security of the hanging village.

  “I never expected them this soon . . .” I whisper to Peter as we watch the Lost Boys draw nearer and nearer. They haven’t spotted us yet, but they will soon. “Should we hide too?”

  Peter seems to consider it but then shakes his head, reddish hair falling into his eyes. “I think we’ve hidden long enough. If they’re here, it’s because Connor has decided he’s ready to corrupt the star. I didn’t think he’d try so soon. I’m not even sure how the scouts haven’t spotted them yet. Maybe Connor is somehow shielding them—although sending the Lost Boys ahead was probably so that they would hit any traps the warriors had set up.”

  He doesn’t take his eyes from the Lost Boys as he says to me, “I need to stay and protect the star. Fly back up and find Lily. Tell her that Connor is almost here and that we’re going to need every warrior she has.”

  I glance behind me at the beautiful sphere of silver starlight. The thin veins that had started creeping over its corner thicken and begin to seep over the star. If Connor’s nearness alone can seep darkness into the heart of Neverland, I don’t want to know what will happen if he can actually poison the star with his shadow.

  Heart sinking, I take Peter’s hand. “You’ll be okay?”

  He nods, giving my hand a squeeze. “They’re my Lost Boys. I need to do this either way.”

  I realize how much this boy truly has grown.