A Land of Never After

by R. L. Davennor

  I couldn’t decide if the gentle rocking of the boat made up for the itch searing both my wrists. Scratching proved futile—I couldn’t move my hands—so I opened my eyes.

  Across from me sat the Serpent. Her arms worked rhythmically, rowing with practiced ease. Near her feet rested both my satchel and my music box, and the sight sparked a flash of rage. She didn’t get to take what was mine.

  She smirked at my crumpled form. “Awake already? I’ve seen that dose keep grown men asleep for hours.”

  “You d-drugged me.” My voice didn’t sound like my own through cracked and parched lips. Though it sent a rush of dizziness straight to the front of my skull, I used my bound hands to push myself upright. My daggers were gone, of course, now belonging to the plethora of weapons on my kidnapper’s person. At least she hadn’t tied my hands behind my back, which would have rendered them totally useless. “Y-you…”

  “I’d save your strength, darling. Going to need it where I’m taking you.”

  Blinking, I forced my eyes to adjust to the unforgiving sunlight, peering over the side of the boat. The shore’s outline shimmered in the heat of the day. We’d cleared the treacherous rocks and were much closer to the pirate ship now. At our current speed, we would arrive in a few short minutes. Men’s voices carried from the deck, celebratory and jeering, and my heart sank to my knees. I was trapped.

  Flying was out of the question; Tink’s magic had abandoned me shortly after I’d set foot on the beach. A scuffle was suicide. Even if I could fight the Serpent, I’d be a fool to try, especially as close to the man-of-war as we now were. I’d be shot the moment they suspected I posed a real threat. Still weighing my limited options, I gripped the side of the boat, if only to ground myself to what little I could.

  The Serpent frowned, misreading my intention. “If you jump, I’m not going after you. You’d find it pretty difficult to swim with bound hands.”

  “I’m not going to jump.” I shot her a glare.

  She grinned. “Feisty, you are. You might actually stand a chance.”

  “Don’t lie. I’m certain there are more than a few men aboard your ship in need of a kill.” I spoke matter-of-factly, ignoring my heart threatening to leap out of my chest. The more I knew, the better off I was, and the more likely I’d devise an intelligent plan.

  “Smart, too.” The Serpent nodded. “That there are. But it’s their own fault, the lot of ‘em. Those cowards will need to murder more than rats if they’re to remain among the living. Plenty of lives to take if you know where to look.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You do, clearly.”

  The Serpent threw back her head, cackling in a way that made the hair on my arms stand on end. “Oh, darling. It’ll be such a shame if my brother doesn’t take a liking to you.”

  I kept my mouth shut. It became everything I could do to keep from pissing myself as the ship loomed ever closer, shrouding the longboat in shadow. An inscription came into view. The Jolly Serpent.

  I recoiled; they’d named the ship after her? I could hardly imagine a more terrifying pirate than the one sitting in front of me, and she was anything but jolly. The Serpent seemed to delight in my reaction, never taking her eyes off mine. She licked her lips as though I were prey she intended to swallow.

  My mind swam with the little information I knew. Dragon, Wolf, Serpent, and Crow felt significant, as did Peter’s numerous warnings about the murderous Captain Hook. I remained fully aware that the Serpent was the crew’s quartermaster: that, combined with the name of the ship, told me she wielded power here. I didn’t intend to underestimate it.

  By the time rough arms hoisted me up the side of The Jolly Serpent, passing me from one man to another, I’d made a vow to keep my mouth shut—for now. They tossed me overboard like cargo, and not even cargo they valued. I bit back a curse as I struck the grimy deck, the impact bloodying my knees though I threw my still-bound hands out to steady myself. Several of my captors laughed. Glowering through my tangled hair, I lifted my head to glimpse at least a dozen pairs of legs set to pounce. There was nowhere to run; even if there had been, I’d be shot before I stood.

  “Fuck off.” The Serpent jumped beside me with my satchel hoisted over her shoulder, and wasted no time yanking my hair to force me upright. I hoped no one noticed my grimace, but from the way the pirates were already leering, it wasn’t as though it would matter. The scent of death struck me with force, informing me of what I’d already suspected.

  These men were rotting and desperate, and all it would take to remedy that was a single clean slice across my throat.

  “Fuck off, I said.” The Serpent kicked a man who had gotten a little too close for her liking. “She’s mine, and so are her things. I’ll not have you lot touching her till Cedric’s taken a look.”

  Cedric. Did Hook have an actual name? I made a mental note of it, clinging to anything resembling a clue. Right now, that happened to be the Serpent, no matter how much she otherwise terrified me.

  “He hasn’t emerged from his quarters all day.” A man with a thick red beard stepped forward, assuming an arrogant tone. “And I doubt he will now, especially for a prize so small.”

  Small? It took every ounce of effort I possessed to bite my tongue, and the Serpent clearly didn’t miss the way I tensed beside her. She tightened her grip on my satchel, shooting the bearded man a glare but remaining relatively calm.

  “Ced will come out for me.”

  She began striding across the deck with me in tow, pulling me along by my hair. The crowd parted for us, though some were less eager to do so than others. Murmurs broke out from all except one: the redhead.

  “I’m not certain we care much for what the Crow thinks.”

  The Serpent froze in her tracks. Releasing her grip both on me and the satchel, she turned, demeanor switching to unhinged killer in an instant. “What did you just say?”

  I contemplated diving for cover but wanted to watch this play out. I snatched my satchel off the deck before facing the action, jaw parting slightly at the man’s defiant expression even in the face of death.

  “I said,” he growled, “your brother’s even more of a bitch than you are.”

  “Bitch is forgivable.” The Serpent whipped out a dagger. “Crow is not.”

  Before I’d registered the second piece of my mother’s puzzle, the two clashed blades.

  The Serpent didn’t remain in the larger man’s proximity for long; true to her name, she darted in and out of his reach not unlike a viper timing its strikes. Despite her skill, the man possessed his own, and had brute strength to match it. More than once, I held my breath as he brought his weapon down in the space the Serpent had occupied a split second before.

  I bit my lip. Was I seriously rooting for the woman who had drugged and kidnapped me?

  There was no use denying it. The Serpent may be one of the monsters my mother had warned me about, but the bearded man had provoked her on purpose. He deserved to pay the price. What was more, without the Serpent’s protection, there was no doubt the crowd would pounce upon me next. Whatever the quartermaster’s intentions, she hadn’t killed me—and that counted for something. I added my voice to the handful of men cheering her on.

  Though the minutes dragged by, the fight was over quickly. The bearded man landed a blow to the Serpent’s jaw, knocking her off balance. With his opposite hand, he snatched her throat, knuckles whitening from the force of his grip.

  He brought her face to his while she clawed at him, sneering loud enough for the crowd to hear. “What a pity. I admit I’ve always wanted to choke the life from you—I just hoped you’d be on your knees while I did it.”

  I bristled at the disgusting insult, rooting for her even more now. “Fucking kill him,” I hissed through gritted teeth.

  The bearded man laughed with all the others, savoring the moment. The Serpent’s thrashing grew weaker b
efore going limp altogether, body slumping in her opponent’s hands.

  “Such a pity,” he repeated, lifting his other arm to her cheek.

  He noticed the flashing of sharpened teeth too late.

  The Serpent bit his hand hard, causing crimson to spray across her already bloodstained face. She didn’t let go when her opponent howled, enduring the desperate kicks and pummels he threw in her direction. Yanking one of my stolen knives from her belt, she plunged it into his chest, twisting for good measure. With the blade still inside, she met his gaze before spitting out his hand.

  Blood dripped from her chin. “Indeed. Such a pity.”

  As he stared at her with hate in his eyes, the Serpent withdrew the dagger to slash once more across his navel. Guts and intestines went spilling across the deck, half-rotted and putrid, splattering her with even more blood to mark her victory. The crowd staggered back, but she didn’t; burying her fingers into her victim’s hair, she forced him to look upon his own innards as he took his final breaths.

  The sight should have shocked me, and probably would have done a few short days ago. But now, with all I’d seen in Neverland, the brutal display was simply more of the same. I couldn’t look away, just as I couldn’t escape the curse. Death was life, and all life was death. My gaze flickered to the Serpent before settling back on her victim: predator and prey. I’d find out very soon which I would become.

  While I was lost in thought, a heaviness had settled upon the crew. The Serpent regarded them calmly, already busy wiping off the blade she’d used to kill. “Does anyone else have anything to say about our dear captain?”

  Silence.

  Tossing the body aside, the Serpent twitched her head in its direction as though it were a spilled flagon and not one of their butchered crewmates. “Clean it up. I’ll not have blood staining my brother’s deck.”

  “Aye, Quartermaster.” Several scrambled to obey, while the rest seemed keen to put as much distance between her and them as possible.

  She stopped just short of me, glancing at the satchel I gripped tightly. “You didn’t look away.” It wasn’t a question; even through all that, she’d been watching me.

  “Should I have?”

  She smiled. Twirling her finger, she indicated for me to turn around. Once I’d done so, she slipped her dagger back into the sheath at my hip. Her fingers were gentle as they tucked my hair behind my ears. “Keep this. You’ve earned it—and are likely to need it.”

  I ignored the chills that shot down my spine. “How am I supposed to use it if my hands are still t—”

  She clicked her tongue as she whispered into my ear. “You’ll find a way, Wendy.”

  My pulse quickened and my throat went dry in an instant. She’d said my name once before, right before her poison took effect, but I’d forgotten until this moment. “How—”

  “What’s all this?”

  I flinched at the authoritative voice, though I couldn’t tell to whom it belonged. Everything stopped, including the scrubbing of the deck and the discarding of the body.

  The Serpent gripped my shoulder, and I could hear the wicked grin in her voice. “It’s about fucking time.” Still holding me, she turned us both toward the ship’s stern.

  Emerging from belowdecks stood one of the most formidable men I’d ever seen.

  Dark hair, a chiseled jaw, and broad shoulders caught my attention first. Unlike the others, this pirate was reasonably well-dressed, sporting a decorated jacket, an unblemished pair of trousers, and tanned leather boots. There was no sign of a sword or dagger, just a pair of pistols holstered at each hip. It informed me that he was as much a killer as all the rest but preferred to be quick and clean about it. Despite the heat of the day, the only bits of visible skin were his scarred face and the hand I could see. Even his undershirt was tied up to his neck, black and sleek like the birds I’d seen fluttering about near the shore.

  The Crow—I’d have known it even if the now-dead man hadn’t uttered it. The Serpent’s brother looked every bit as sinister as the creature he was named after. Here were two pieces of my mother’s puzzle. Where were the Dragon and the Wolf, I wondered?

  As the Crow began descending the stairs, the Serpent squeezed me tighter. “Magnificent, isn’t he?”

  I wrinkled my nose at her choice of word. “Isn’t that your brother?”

  “The only one that matters.” She released me then, attention focused solely on him.

  I followed her gaze and took a sharp breath when I noticed: in place of the Crow’s right hand glittered a curved metal hook. Both were as prominent as they were telling. As though he sensed me staring, Captain Hook—for who else could he be?—whipped his head in my direction, regarding me with a furious, icy glare.

  Though he stared at me, he spoke to his sister. “What the fuck is this, Elvira?”

  I was too bewildered by the events of the past few minutes to be shocked that the Serpent had an actual name. “Oh, the mess?” Elvira waved her hand dismissively. “Elijah is dead. He ran his mouth.”

  “Not that, the g—what?” Whirling around, Hook clenched his fist. “My helmsman?”

  “He called you Crow.”

  Hook rubbed his temple. “That doesn’t mean shit anymore—”

  “Perhaps not to you,” Elvira snarled, “but it very much does to me.”

  “By your hand?”

  She nodded, and I wondered why Hook even had to ask. Was the blood painting her from head to toe not telling enough?

  He swore. Closing the distance between them, he lowered his voice to a whisper, but I had no trouble making out his words. “You could have at least given one of the weaker men your kill. We aren’t going to have a crew left before long.”

  Elvira hissed right back. “Don’t blame me for that, brother. You’re the one who slaughtered those boys by yourself. How far could their lives have gone?”

  I stiffened; though I’d known it for days, hearing someone else say it while the man stood right in front of me made it more disturbing. Judging from the toys I’d seen scattered among Peter’s home, some of the Lost Boys had been as young as toddlers.

  Not a man, then. A monster.

  My hatred for the captain drowned out the rest of the siblings’ conversation; by the time their attention refocused on me, I was a dam ready to burst. I opened my mouth to speak, but Hook beat me to it.

  “Kill her.”

  His curt order was enough to send the men behind me into a frenzy, and my cries of protest fell upon deaf ears. Hook turned back toward the stairs leading below, my imminent death clearly not enough of a reason for him to stay.

  Elvira alone raised her voice in my defense, shrieking to be heard over the mob. “I’d reconsider that if I were you!”

  “Why?” The captain whirled around, refusing to spare me even a passing glance.

  “She’s your ticket to catching Pan.”

  “I’ll find another way. The men need a kill, and I don’t need a woman aboard the ship. It’s bad luck.”

  Elvira snarled, shoving me aside to face her brother. “You already have one.”

  “You’re not a woman.” Hook curled his lip. “You’re the devil.”

  They broke into more raucous arguing, and I had reached my limit. Tucking my satchel into a corner, I marched toward the siblings, determined to be seen if they wouldn’t hear me. “Enou—”

  Before I could finish, the muzzle of a pistol pressed into my temple.

  “Move and I pull the trigger,” Hook whispered.

  Fear froze me in place, but only for a second. I’d been prepared to die since the moment I set foot in this place—how was this any different? I even had my mother’s words protecting me: ‘Don’t fear his gun.’ I leaned into the weapon, goading him on with my gaze. “Do it.”

  Surprise flickered across the captain’s features, and for the fir
st time, he looked directly at me. Though he didn’t lower the gun, we locked gazes, and as his eyes swirled, recognition stirred within me. I was more than certain we’d never met, but there was something eerily familiar about the way he moved and spoke.

  But through the silence rose a song—my song. More accurately, my music box’s. Elvira was no longer in my peripheral vision; without looking, I realized she must have opened it. The bells tinkled rhythmically, and the familiar tune calmed me despite my current predicament.

  It did the opposite for Hook. Chest heaving, he stiffened as Elvira added her voice to the music, singing lyrics perfectly in time with the melody.

  “Disturb my sleep, invade this tomb,

  and you will reap the greatest doom.

  A debt in blood, a promise sealed,

  only once cut will all be revealed.

  Let thieves beware this sacred place:

  no man be spared, all share the fate.

  With sea and breath, I curse ye twice.

  Death pays for death, but life has no price.”

  When she stopped, so did the music box, though whether because she’d closed it or because it had run out of cranks, I couldn’t be certain. All I knew was that I’d heard those words before.

  “Your curse, Ced. Our curse.”

  Elvira’s confirmation did nothing for my nerves. Her song had solidified it was all connected: the music box, my mother, the curse, all of it. The pirates and Peter were just as entangled in this mess as I now was, and given what I knew of Neverland…

  The way out would be painted in blood.

  Hook lowered his gun. Staring blankly in my direction, he spoke in a whisper. “What did you say your name was, again?”

  “I didn’t.” Though my mind was reeling, I managed to keep up my brave facade.

  Elvira scoffed. “You’d know the answer to that if you actually spent time on the mainland every once in a while. She’s all the Nightstalkers have talked about. ‘Neverland’s chosen,’ they’re saying.”