by Anna Katmore
Only seconds later, Paulina joins us in front of my room, folds her arms over her chest and taps her foot. “Put her down, Angel. She has my hair clip. I want it back.”
My laughter spills out over how much determination comes from that five-year-old. I set Brittney Renae to her feet and take both girls by their hands. “Come on, get your coats. We’re going out and I’ll get you another magazine, with another hairclip.”
Both their faces light up like birthday cakes. They hurry to slip into their identical Alice in Wonderland shoes and red coats. With a quick shout to Miss Lynda, our housekeeper, I usher the girls out the front door.
Peter Pan
EVERYTHING HURTS. I moan as I turn around in a place that feels a lot like my bed in the tree. My eyes open reluctantly. Colors swim in front of them, light fading in and out of my vision.
“Loney! Quick, get the others. He’s waking up!”
“Tami?” I croak through a sore throat, identifying the voice as that of the pixie among my friends.
A cold, damp cloth is pressed to my forehead. “Yes, Peter. It’s me. How are you feeling?”
“Like a dragon had me for lunch and spit me out again.” Trying to focus without real success, I slowly drag my hands down my face. Something on my cheek scratches my palms. By the rainbows of Neverland, what is that?
“And you look like exactly that happened to you. Peter, what’s going on?”
“You ask me that?” A biting pain in my back makes me yelp as I sit up. It’s gone quickly, but the aftermath leaves me breathless. I hunch forward, resting my arms and forehead on my bent knees. “Why am I hurting so badly? And how did I get here?” The last thing I remember is looking into the mouth of Hook’s gun and then tossing our father’s watch into the volcano. Anything after that is a blurred image of colors and sounds. And loads of pain.
Goddammit! Did he shoot me?
“You didn’t come back from the boar hunt, so after some time, the boys and I went looking for you. Toby found you close to the tree house. You were unconscious and had so many bruises. We didn’t know if we should even touch you, but we couldn’t let you lie there either, so the boys carried you home.”
My vision comes back. I tilt my head and look at Tameeka’s worried elfin face. “How long have I been asleep? What time is it?”
“It’s almost noon.” She gulps and the new look on her face scares me. “Peter, you’ve been knocked out cold for thirty-three days.”
The air freezes in my lungs. “And I’m still alive?” This seems impossible.
“At the beginning, we tried to feed you berry mash and pour water down your throat, but you choked on it and we almost lost you then. We didn’t try to feed you after that.” Her soft hand strokes over my forehead and down my cheek. “Peter, we were out of our minds. No one knew when or if you would wake up again. The Lost Boys and I took turns in keeping watch over you. They’re out on the hunt now but—” Her eyes take on a more gleeful shine. “Oh, everyone will be so happy to see you finally came around!”
“What’s that in my face?” I ask her, rubbing my palm across my chin.
There’s a long pause before Tami answers. “Stubble.”
“What?”
“It started a couple of days ago.”
In her look I can read there’s more. “What else?”
The pixie’s wings sink behind her back. “You grew. About six inches.”
This is impossible. Complete bullshit. Throwing back the covers, I get out of bed, ignoring the pain that comes with the movement. I jump from the booth to land on wobbly legs. The moment I look down at myself and see how the hem of my shirt has ridden up my belly, I know Tami was right. I grew. And I sprouted a beard too. What the hell—
The pixie glides down beside me. Her hands are clasped in front of her chest as my frightened gaze finds hers. “You’re aging again, Peter,” she whispers.
“No!” The word is a painful croak. “This can’t be.”
“It’s happening. I just don’t know what brought it about.”
“I do.” My voice has gone deathly cold. “Hook.” Whatever it was that started this plight, it has something to do with the pocket watch he forced me to destroy in the volcano. “He found a way to end the standstill.” Pulling the too tight shirt off over my head, I fling it aside and clench my teeth. “But I’m the Pan!” Hands fisted, I fly through the hollow tree toward the hole at the top. “I won’t grow up! Never!”
The warm wind of a race through the sky slaps me in the face. At least, flying still works. Beneath me, the jungle is a blurred sea of green. Headed north, I pass Mermaid Lagoon and fly out over the ocean three quarters of a mile. In front of me rise the peaks of the treasures den, the waves splashing against their rocky sides.
I land on the one with the hidden trap door and start moving stones aside. Lifting the second one, my finger gets crushed between two rocks. “Ouch!” I stick the finger in my mouth and suck until the pulsing pain ceases. Then I pull it out and stretch all fingers as I twist my hand in front of my face to examine it.
My hands are bigger now, and so are my feet. Coordinating my movements takes some adjusting. I stumble a few times and have bruised knuckles before all the stones are carried out of the way. By God, I swear Hook will pay for this. He’ll pay dearly.
When the entrance is free, I pull on the leather strap attached to the wood and the door flaps open. The familiar scent of rusty silver and gold that usually wafts at my face then is missing. I peek inside and my heart stops for a couple of seconds. A small jet of daylight lands on the ground of the cave. It’s empty.
With a racing heart that obviously tries to make good on the missed beats, I glide down and stand in a shallow water puddle. All around me there’s only rock face. The floor is wet and deserted. Nothing of the treasure is left. Nothing but a small chest that carried the pocket watch for so many years.
The ultimate betrayal.
James gave me the key to the watch so I could free it and deliver it right into his hands. I don’t know how he found out about this hiding place, but I sure can count one and one together. Angel. She told him before she left Neverland. Now my brother has it all. The treasure—and the satisfaction to see me grow older.
Every muscle inside me tenses to an aching point. I start to shake, the blood draining from my head and limbs. Falling to my knees in the puddle, I lift my chin and fist my hands at my sides. A soul-tearing cry bursts out of my lungs.
“Hook, you bloody bastard! I’m going to run a sword through your heart for this!”
Chapter 4
AN ENTIRE MONTH lost! Dammit.
Gazing at the ever growing island outside the windows of my study as we sail toward its shores, I fist my hands, my nails digging deeply into my palms. Twenty-one times we’ve tried to sail to London. Twenty-one times we kept finding Neverland. It’s just like back then as we set off with Angel still on board and tried to help her leave this place. There was nothing out on this goddamn sea. In all these waters only one island exists.
Heck, did the fairies lie to me? Are the gates of Neverland closed after all?
I spin on my heel and stride out on deck, into the burning afternoon sun. Smee tilts his head when he notices me and stops playing cards with Potato Ralph. Passing them, I see it was a wise decision of my first mate. He held a poor hand and would have lost the couple of doubloons.
He follows me down to the main deck. “The plan, Cap’n? Shall we round the isle and set off again?”
I face him and snap, “We’ve been covering all routs in a ten degree interval. Do you honestly think it will make any difference if we start the same routes backward?”
Smee lifts his hands in baffled surrender. “Man, you’re in a mood today…” He laughs a throaty sound. I want to put an end to it with showing him where the ship’s plank extends out over the water. But it’s not his fault that we’re stuck here.
I tamp down on my frustration, shoving my hands into my pockets. As always, when
I did this the past thirty days, my fingers close around the two remaining beckon beans in there and I’m tempted to swallow another. Maybe this time it’ll work.
Fishing them out, I stare at them for a long time. “Think of Angel and eat one, she said. It’ll lead you in the right direction.” I bite my bottom lip and fling the beans across the deck. “To hell with them!”
Smee ducks. “Maybe you’re forgetting something essential?” he suggests when he straightens again.
“And what would that be?”
“Well, she also said, don’t forget about the rainbow, didn’t she?”
“Yeah, so what?”
“So maybe we should start spending the days with trying to catch one instead of looking for an island where there’s none.”
He does have a point. “Drop anchor as soon as we reach the shore. And find me some gunnysack.” I rub my temples. “No idea how to catch a blasted rainbow.”
When Smee’s eyes suddenly grow wide as they focus on a spot over my right shoulder and the constant murmur and whistling on deck stops abruptly, I whirl about to see what put them all in shock. A young man stands in front of me. The first thing I’m aware of is that he doesn’t stink or look like a pirate. He’s none of my crew. “How the heck did you get on my—” Realization strikes hard and fast. “Peter?” I whisper.
“Good afternoon, Hook,” he says through gritted teeth. A heartbeat later, his fist crashes into my jaw.
Pain explodes in the left side of my face. Hauled several feet backward across the floorboards, I’m knocked into the stack of boxes. My lip split from the punch. Blood gathers in the corner of my mouth. I spit it out and wipe the rest away with the back of my hand. Hunched over a box for support, I glare at Peter sideways. “Good afternoon to you, too.”
I push back to my feet and brace myself for a fight when Peter stalks forward, hands fisted. But Smee and Skyler rush to his side, holding him back by his arms. Peter wrestles to get free. Only wearing pants, there’s a display of twitching abs and pecs under his skin—muscles that haven’t been there when we last met. Stubble shadows his cheeks and chin now and his hair has grown enough to notice a certain change. More, he made good on the few inches I always had on him. My little brother has become a man.
“Let him go,” I tell my men calmly.
Reluctantly, they release his arms. “What? Do I look like I can’t handle a fist fight?” I scowl at them until they step away but their gazes remain on us. So be it. I ignore them and focus on Peter. “What happened to you?”
“Why don’t you tell me, bilge rat?” Free of the pirates, he comes at me again, fists lashing. “How did you make me age so fast?”
This time, I’m prepared for his attack. I dodge another hit aimed at my jaw and block a sucker punch to my stomach with my right forearm. Grabbing his, I twist it to his back, step into the hollow of his knee and shove him forward. He lands on all fours.
“I didn’t know this would happen! I thought time would start where it had stopped when you cursed Neverland.” And it’s the truth. Seeing Peter at the same age as me when really only a month has passed is a shock to the bones. “The destruction of the watch should have set things back to normal—not turn you into a man in an instant,” I add in a lower voice as Peter rises to his feet again, facing me.
“But it did!” he barks. “And I’ll make you pay for it!”
His kick to my chest comes too fast and I fly backward against the mast. Pain spreads in my lower back. I twist around and grab the mast for balance, recovering quickly. From the corner of my eye, I see how Peter starts his next attack. Another kick. This time, I react faster and his bare foot only hits the mast. If it hurt, he doesn’t show.
Taking the opportunity, I knee him in the guts and headbutt him. Briefly dazzled, he stumbles backward, finding support at the railing. He shakes his head to clear his dizziness. I could end this battle in a minute, if I pulled my sword and skewered him through the heart or sliced his throat. But I don’t. In fact, I’ve done enough bad on him. For a moment I wonder if any treasure in this world was worth hurting my brother. But then I see Angel’s face in my mind, and I know I would do it again.
“Peter, I’m sorry.” Panting, I brace myself on my knees. “I didn’t mean to put this fate on you. But it was the only chance I had.”
His face glistening from sweat, he slowly lifts his gaze to mine. Blood drips from his nose. “You damn asshole,” he drawls. “I was a fool to believe you and I could ever be brothers. You haven’t changed a bit—never cared about anyone but yourself.”
It’s not true. I care about him. Only I care more about Angel.
“Next time we meet,” he continues, “I will kill you. I swear, James Hook, I’ll find the sword that’s forged only for piercing your black heart.”
Understanding his wrath, I don’t doubt him for a minute. But he’s mistaken if he thinks I won’t be prepared. I straighten, the gap hewn into our newly discovered brotherhood widening fast.
Suddenly a fire of a wholly new kind glazes in his eyes. “Or maybe killing you isn’t enough… What would be the worst thing that could happen to you?” He bends forward and picks something small up from the deck. One of the beckon beans.
Shit!
“I bet it’s something to do with Angel.” A sneer crawls to his beaten face. “What did you say before? Think of her and eat the bean? It’ll lead the way…right?”
Before I can rush to him, Peter flies up and puts the bean into his mouth. From his appalled look I know when he chewed it. Then he swallows hard and coughs. “Wicked stuff.” Looking up, he gazes at the sun for a second, then he turns his head and focuses on a spot in the sky in the opposite direction. As he looks down at me next, he laughs scornfully. “You really tried to sail there? Major fail, brother.” Spitting the last word, he zooms off.
Without hesitation I pull my gun, aim at Peter, and shoot. The bullet misses the target.
“Follow him!” I yell to the crew, fighting against the fear in my chest that he would hurt Angel if he found her just to get back at me.
Smee steps in my way. “Cap’n, he’s flying. We’re on a two thousand ton ship. How should that work?”
“Right.” I twist and tilt my head, cupping my mouth, and shout up to the crow’s nest. “Bull’s Eye! Where’s Pan going?”
The short, bald man with dark skin lifts the spyglass to his eye and looks through. “Up, Cap’n!” he shouts after a moment. “East and up.”
“What do you mean up?”
“That Peter Pan is flying higher than I’ve ever seen him fly before. And he’s still going up.”
I remember the urge to climb the mast when I ate the first beckon bean and how I almost tried to jump then. Maybe I was misled all along. In the past, Bre’Shun sent me a stellar card. It should help me to find London. Is Angel really on a different star?
The headache from Peter’s punch to my jaw is getting worse. I rake my hands through my hair and lace my fingers at the back of my neck, tilting my head back. A tortured sigh escapes me.
“What we do now, James?”
I look at Smee. “I don’t see any other choice than get the fairies what they want. Get us back to the shore. Tonight we hunt rainbows.”
Peter Pan
LIKE A VORTEX, the sky pulls me up with incredible strength. I don’t know where I’m going or what it really is that leads me straight up and on, but fighting against this power is in vain. After some time, I relax and simply go with the warm flow.
Far away from Neverland, the sky starts to darken. Stars are shining so bright all around me that it feels like I only have to reach out and could pluck them from the canopy. It’s beautiful beyond words.
In this place, a person completely loses time out of sight. I could have been here for minutes or traveling for hours. There’s nothing but light spots against darkness. And a bluish white crescent to my right. Flying through a shower of falling stars and finally a loop around the moon, I feel how the flow starts to
drag me downward. New lights appear beneath me, but they’re not stars. They are lights of a town.
London.
The houses there look like nothing people would build on Neverland. Some of them are as tall as mountains, scraping on the night sky it seems. Ships float on a broad serpent-like river, and in the distance a clock strikes ten. I follow the sound to a high angular tower tinted in yellow light. There’s a huge white watch with black hands built into it.
An awfully lot of bustling activity is going on in the streets beneath. Weird for that time of the night. Coaches zoom past, but they aren’t pulled by horses. And crowds of people are still out and about. Staying in the air high above them all seems to be the safest way.
I’m gliding across a wide green area, when the pull suddenly increases again. Following the impulse, I soon realize I’m headed to London’s outskirts. The activity is fading behind me. Hardly any man is seen in the streets and alleys, and there are more trees and bushes here. Some windows in the lower but more exclusive houses are illuminated, but most are dark.
I wonder how far I’ll still be sucked on this powerful current, when the pull stops abruptly and I drop. Moments before I crash into the roof of a mansion, I catch myself in the air and come down gently.
The dark clapboards are cold and rough against my bare feet. And now that the warm flow has stopped completely, goosebumps rise on my arms and back. I ignore the chill as soon as I hear the familiar voice of a girl.
“Yes, I will. Good night, mother.”
I sneak toward the edge of the roof and peek down. There are two balconies attached to this side of the house, both semicircular and facing a wide garden. Light falls through the open door to the one right beneath me. Behind the drawn net curtains, the shadow of a person moves back and forth several times, then this figure walks out onto the balcony. It’s a young woman. Somebody I know. Her short black hair reveals a slender, pale neck and her fragile body is wrapped into a light pink dressing gown.