Shadow
Page 25
His face bursts into a massive grin. “A Neverbird feather? Claire! How did you even get it? They only molt this color once every seventy years!”
I lay the feather in his hand. “Tootles and the Lost Boys helped.”
The little fellow peering out at me from over Peter’s wild curls exclaims, “Lost Boys? They’re real too?”
Peter chortles, shoving the feather into his hair as if he were wearing a cap. It sticks out at a slightly ridiculous angle, but it’s too cute for me to say anything. Peter spins the little boy around and says in a singsong voice, “Real as rain, chaps! And now you all are Lost Boys and Girls.” He pauses, looking a little dizzy, and surveys the young faces watching him spellbound. “That is, if you want to be Lost Boys and Girls?”
Slow, hopeful, daring smiles appear, and the children nod quickly. “Yes!”
The boy on Peter’s shoulder flicks at Pan’s feather. “Well, we’ve come this far, haven’t we?”
He’s snarky, this one. I love him already.
Peter rubs at the side of his jaw, taking in the group of children again. “Well, you lot want to see the island? It’ll be your home until it’s safer to go back.”
Cheers rise from a handful of little ones. However, the small girl clinging to Peter’s hand doesn’t make a sound. She’s practically hiding behind him, peeking out from behind his leg to stare at me.
I drift closer and crouch down until I’m level with her. “Hello, sweetheart. What’s your name?”
Her lips pucker, and her whole body quivers. She finally whispers, “Nora.”
I notice the bruises that pepper her skin and the dark circles under her eyes. Peter must have plucked her out of a pretty difficult situation. I don’t reach for her, just kneel there in the stars, golden flakes of dust filling the air around us. “You’re safe here, Nora, sweetheart.”
She nods slowly and then inches out from behind Peter, who is watching her closely. Her gaze slides past me and latches on Neverland far below.
“What is this place?” Her voice is hushed with a hint of wonder. My heart lifts in my chest just knowing how much good it will do her to step into this safe world filled with such magic and whimsy. To get a bit of her childhood back.
I reach out my hand for her to take if she wants. She hesitates, glancing up at Peter. He nods reassuringly. Her tiny hand is quivering, just like the rest of her body, but she slowly lays it in mine. I give it a light squeeze and cast a few shimmering flakes of dust over her skin. They soak into the bruises across her arms and sweep away the discoloration. Peter puts an arm around my shoulder as I bend in front of the little girl, and the rest of the children drift in closer too.
My dust fills the air, shining like drops of sunlight against the sprawling canvas of space and spinning stars.
“Welcome to Neverland, Nora,” I tell the little girl whose small hand is nestled in mine. I smile as I watch glimmers of my gold dust reflect in her wide eyes. The start of a slow, small smile breaks out like a sunrise across the child’s face. I can feel Peter’s joy beside me.
My heart fills as I look into those dancing green eyes.
“This is a place where lost things are found.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I fought some shadows this year.
In case you couldn’t tell simply from the weight of the book in your hands.
And so did you, friend. We all did.
But you know what? We’re. Still. Here.
And that is victory.
Each of us has had to decide what that spark of light is that we’ll cling to. That bit of hope we’ll cup in our hands like liquid gold, fan the flame—and trust that in time, it will grow. Because it does. No matter how cavernous the shadows, the light will always ignite and pour through the broken cracks.
And we will still be here.
So, as with Dust, I dedicate this book to you first, reader. I may know you by name. I may not. But the one thing I do know is that you fought hard, you wrestled your own shadows—and I’m so proud of you. Peter would be proud. And while I wish I could whisk you away to a beautiful island in the stars where you could have adventures with sirens and Lost Boys and leave the weight of this world behind—I can give you the novel in your hands.
A bit of my soul and a bit of whimsy impressed into the pages. A reminder that there is always a bit of light to chase back the shadows.
I would never have gotten here alone. There are far, far too many thank-yous to fit, but here are a few . . .
To my family: For supporting my journey and giving me the courage to fly. Love you!
To RJ and Orrie: I thank God every day for you. You are my heart. The shadows would have probably drowned me if God hadn’t brought you along to crack the sky. Love you forever.
To Gram: For being the best roommate and cheering me on and sparking this love of writing in the first place.
To Alex: For being such a dear friend and always cheering me on. You are one of the bravest people I know.
To the Disney-boy (you know who you are): Our story is so precious to me. Thank you for seeing me, treating me like a queen (Lily would approve), and being so fond of Peter. You are a light.
To Sharilyn, Joanne, Hadassa, and Kezia: Thank you for all the retreats and long walks and heart talks and supporting me for so very long. I treasure each of you dearly.
To Aleigha: For being the most amazing support and always chasing the stars with me. You are a gift.
To Mary, Nadine, Sara, and Ashley: I’m so grateful to call you all my friends. I look up to each of you so much and am grateful for the chance to see such beautiful, strong women telling powerful stories and living even more powerful lives. I want to be you when I grow up. xoxo
To the many, many other incredible author friends: This community has absolutely blown me away. I get teary just thinking of all your dear faces. Thank you to everyone who has guided and cheered and supported me on this journey. You all have been like stars pointing the way.
To Brett, Jaquelle, Josiah, and Marita: Wow. It has been such a huge privilege to see The Young Writer grow and continue working with each of you. Thank you for being such an incredible team—and Brett, for being the best big brother and fellow author coach I could ask for. I am blessed beyond measure to get to guide young storytellers alongside y’all.
To Steve: My agent, my publisher, my friend. For believing in Shadow and trusting that I could pull off this crazy idea. Working with you has and will always be an honor. Thank you for taking such good care of this girl and her stories.
To the Enclave team: Lisa, my amazing editor, for deftly helping Peter and Claire truly shine. To Trissina and Jordan—you both are marketing superheroes. To my Enclave author-family and everyone else involved—I’m so honored to get to tell soul-stories with you all.
To J. M. Barrie: I hope you don’t mind that I gave Peter a sister. You did have him live with birds as a child, so I think we’re even when it comes to unusual plot choices? I’ll always be grateful for the boy who never grew up that came knocking on the window of your imagination.
To my Jesus: the Ever One, the holder of my heart and my strength when I am weak. Thank you for finding me, for loving me more than I can possibly fathom, and for allowing me to shine your light in a broken world. May I never forget just how much you are bringing all things to glory in your timing. And chasing away every shadow.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
As the daughter of missionaries, Kara Swanson spent her childhood running barefoot through the lush jungles of Papua New Guinea. Able to relate with characters dropped into a unique world, she quickly fell in love with the fantasy genre.
The award-winning author of The Girl Who Could See and Dust, Kara guides aspiring authors in telling powerful stories as an author coach and faculty member of the Young Writers Workshop and Author Program alongside Brett Harris.
Kara is passionate about crafting stories of light shattering darkness, connecting with readers—and taming her own pet Neverbeas
t. Kara chats about coffee, fairy tales, and bookish things online (@karaswansonauthor) and at karaswanson.com.