by Aiden Thomas
Wendy knew—without Jordan outright saying so—that meant Mr. Arroyo had either seen her going into, or coming out of, the police department. “I tried to go by your house before work, but no one answered. I also tried texting you, like, a million times,” she added, her smile beginning to fade.
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Wendy mumbled. Normally, Jordan would have been the first person she ran to, especially about something as major as being called to the police station. Wendy didn’t blame her for being suspicious or worried, or whatever she was right now. “I meant to text you back, but I’ve been kind of … distracted.” It wasn’t like Wendy, and she owed Jordan more than that.
Jordan quirked an eyebrow. “I can see that,” she said. More heat flooded Wendy’s face. Luckily for Wendy, Jordan glanced at her watch. “Ugh, I have to get to work,” she grumbled.
“Yeah, we were about to leave, too,” Wendy said, taking the out.
Jordan fixed her with a stern look. “Now, you.” Jordan took a step closer and dropped her voice to a quieter tone. “Will you please call me later? Or stop by? I’m off at five o’clock,” she said, eyes searching Wendy’s—for what, Wendy wasn’t sure.
She could feel Peter watching her, too.
Wendy nodded. “Yeah, of course,” she said, her voice small. She knew Jordan was worried about her. She had been so distracted by Peter and everything else she had suddenly found herself thrown into, that she was forgetting about the person who was always there for her.
Jordan gave a curt nod. “Good.” She tugged on Tyler’s arm, breaking him from the trance of his iPhone. “It was nice to meet you, Barry!”
Peter continued to scratch behind Bucky’s ears, murmuring happily to the dog.
Wendy nudged him with the toe of her shoe. “Barry.”
“Oh yeah,” he said, glancing up to flash Jordan a smile. “Nice to meet you, too.” Bucky climbed out of Peter’s lap and waddled off after Jordan and Tyler. Peter stood, let out a wistful sigh, and gave a small wave. “Bye, Bucky.”
Jordan waved at them over her shoulder. “Later, Wendy Lou Who!” she sang before disappearing around the building.
Wendy rolled her eyes. It was a terrible nickname Jordan had picked up, in reference to Wendy’s least favorite live-action Christmas movie.
Peter was grinning at her.
“What?” Wendy asked.
“Later, Wendy Lou Who!” Peter said, imitating what Jordan had said, except in Jordan’s voice.
Exactly her voice. Hearing it come out of Peter’s mouth startled Wendy so much that she actually jumped. “How did you do that?” she demanded.
Peter looked at her as if that were a very strange question to ask. “What? I told you, I’m good at mimicking things. Like the crickets, remember?”
“Well yeah, but I didn’t realize you could do people’s voices that well, too!” She frowned at him. “That was dead-on! And kind of creepy,” she added.
“Want me to do you?” he asked, lips hooking into a grin.
“God, no.”
At the table, what was left of Wendy’s ice cream was a melted puddle, so she dumped it and the rest of their trash. Wendy squared her shoulders, summoning her nerve. She plucked at the hem of Peter’s shirt. “Come on,” she said, leading the way across the street to the road that wound back to her house. “We’ve got a shadow to find.”
CHAPTER 14
Into the Woods
Peter and Wendy stood side by side at the small white fence that separated her backyard from the woods. A breeze snaked its way through the trees, lightly brushing against her cheeks, her neck, her wrists. She took three slow, deep breaths, eyes stinging as they stared, unblinkingly, into the depths of the forest. Peter was watching her out of the corner of his eye. She could feel his apprehension, but she lifted her chin and blew out one last breath between pursed lips.
They needed to do this. She needed to do this. John and Michael were depending on her, and she wouldn’t fail them again.
Wendy pulled out her phone to check the time. The screen was filled with unread text messages and missed calls from Jordan. It felt wrong, but she closed them and cleared her throat.
“It’s three o’clock now,” she said to Peter, finally glancing over at him. “We just need to make sure we’re back before my parents get home, or else my father will kill me. It’s not much time, but it’s enough to get started.”
“Are you sure you want to go looking for this tree?” Peter asked. He kept massaging his right thumb into his left palm, shifting his weight between his feet like he couldn’t stand still. “For all we know, this could just be a wild goose chase or a trap.” But even Wendy could tell by the way his jaw clenched that he knew she wasn’t going to change her mind.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Wendy said. He wished he would be less reluctant, because it wasn’t soothing her nerves. “It means something, I know it,” she told him. Even though the tightness in her chest and the thrumming of her heart told her to be afraid of the tree—something primal and instinctual—Wendy would push past it to find her brothers and the other missing kids. To put a stop to the shadow. “Besides, it’s the only clue we’ve got to go on.”
Peter looked at her like he was trying to decide if he wanted to keep arguing with her about it.
Wendy crossed her arms and fixed him with a stern look.
Peter groaned, craning his head back and closing his eyes for a moment. “Ugh, fine,” he muttered before straightening up. He hopped the small white fence and Wendy followed. “I’ve been getting to know my way around the woods,” he told her as they wound their way through the trees. “At least, what’s between my hunting shack and your house.” Peter gestured east. “I can get us to where you followed Alex and where I found you with the shadow,” he offered. “Maybe that’s a good place to start?”
“It’s the only plan we’ve got,” she conceded, jogging a few quick steps to close the distance between them.
The woods looked different in the daytime, but no less unsettling. Instead of only being able to make out things in her immediate vicinity, now she could see the vast expanse of trees stretching out in every direction, as far as she could see. It made her feel small and outnumbered.
The trees formed an erratic pattern of different shapes, sizes, and colors. Some trees were thick, with reddish-brown bark and patches of emerald moss. Others were tall, skinny, and pale with perfectly round leaves that rustled in the breeze. A sea of ivy spilled through the woods, puddling around the bases of the trees and climbing up into the canopy. Fallen trees leaned drunkenly against one another. Sun-dappled leaves flickered shadows on the sun-heated earth. Lights danced across fern fronds and thick brambles. Pinecones littered the forest floor like lost trinkets.
Wendy walked as close to Peter as she could but, as she kept throwing furtive glances over her shoulder, she kept treading on the heels of his shoes and bumping into his back.
“Ouch!”
“Sorry!” Wendy said as she caught her balance.
“Would you be more comfortable on my back?” Peter asked, hopping on one foot as he tugged his shoe back onto his foot. “Maybe a nice piggyback ride would save us both some trouble?” He grinned at her, but Wendy couldn’t manage to return it.
“I’m just a bit jumpy, okay?” she said, rubbing her sweaty palms on her thighs.
“A bit?” Peter repeated, arching his eyebrow.
“The woods and I aren’t exactly on good terms.” She squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in a deep breath through her nose. Every muscle in her body was tense. She could feel herself starting to shake.
Peter’s grin faded, lips twisting into a guilty smile. “At least walk next to me, then,” he said, no longer teasing. He stepped to the side and, as Wendy caught up to him, closed the space between them. Their arms were close enough that Wendy could practically feel the warmth radiating off his skin. The brush of his shoulder against hers was a grounding rhythm as they walked.
They walked farther in silenc
e. Wendy was jealous of how he avoided tripping on roots or running into low-hanging branches, his feet moving deftly and with ease. Meanwhile, she kept stumbling at his side over uneven ground pitted with rocks and roots. To Peter’s credit, he did pause and wait every time she faltered.
When they walked into a clearing, Peter slowed to a stop. The towering trees around them formed an almost perfect circle. Tilting his head back, he looked around, blue eyes squinting in the sun. “This is where I found you last night,” he said, nodding to himself.
Wendy nodded along as she followed his gaze around. “I recognize the clearing … sort of,” she said. “The woods pretty much all look the same to me … but I definitely remember the clearing looking like this and being surrounded by trees and shadows.” She looked at the ground, curious whether there was still ash from the pixie dust’s destruction of the shadows, but there was only the spongy crunch of layers of dead pine needles and twigs underfoot.
Wind shuddered through the branches. In the distance, trees creaked and groaned.
“My shack is that way,” Peter said, pointing into the distance. “There’s a creek up ahead. Maybe we can follow that to go deeper into the woods?” he suggested.
Sure enough, Wendy could hear babbling water off in the distance if she held her breath.
“That way, we can retrace our steps.” He was looking at her—staring, really—a bit too closely. It made her feel like he was carefully gauging her reaction. Peter could push things too far and get distracted, but she was also starting to see that he was a Noticer. And the worst thing about Noticers is that it was hard to hide from them.
“Good idea.” Wendy nodded. She followed Peter another few yards until they came upon the creek. It was a few feet wide, with water tumbling over rocks and fallen branches. They started to follow it downstream, the ground sloping gradually through a ravine.
“How did you even find me, anyway?” Wendy asked, still thinking about the night before. It had been bugging her, sort of nagging at the back of her mind. There was still so much about him she didn’t know or understand. His ability to find her when she was lost in the middle of the woods was a big one. “I feel like as soon as I called your name, you just magically appeared.” Hearing herself, she frowned. Was that it? “Can you still fly?”
Peter laughed, though his smile wasn’t easy. “No, I don’t have enough magic left in me to fly anymore.” He looked down at his hands and Wendy did, too. Was she expecting to see them spark with light again? For the sword made of pixie dust to appear?
“I need to save it to use against my shadow,” he went on. “I could hear you yelling for Alex like a mile away.” He leapt to the top of a fallen tree covered in moss. He followed it down the river, feet easily stepping over knots and through vines without getting tangled. Peter held his arms out at his sides for balance, moving slowly so Wendy could keep up beside him as she tripped over wet rocks.
“So, I ran after you. It was pretty easy to hear your crashing through the woods.” He frowned, glancing over at Wendy. “They’ve been unnaturally quiet at night. No owls, no crickets. I haven’t even heard any animals scurrying around. Anyway, when I caught up to you at the clearing, I saw that the shadows were trying to take you, so I used the only thing I could think of to try to stop it: pixie dust. But if we have to rely on that in order to stop my shadow, I think we’re in trouble.” Peter’s hands went back to his sides as he hopped to the next rotting tree.
“Like I said, my magic is still getting weaker. The longer I’m here, the faster it fades. These shoes could barely stay on my feet yesterday morning,” he said, balancing on one foot and raising the other as evidence. “Now my toes are crammed into them.”
Wendy tried to look at him more closely as he stood perched on the fallen tree. It was hard to tell exactly how much he was changing day by day.
No one could possibly mistake him for a middle school–aged boy now. Indeed, he looked like he could be one of the senior guys on her swim team: tall, toned, and tanned. This was good news, really. It meant it was far less likely that someone from the emergency room or one of the police officers would recognize him.
But the far more dire reality was that they were running out of time. Wendy didn’t want to think about what might happen to Peter if he lost all of his magic. Would he turn into an old man? Disappear? Turn to dust? Something worse?
“Peter, what if that was all part of the shadow’s plan?” she asked.
He jumped down from the tree, landing lightly beside her. “What do you mean?” he asked, eyebrows knitting together as he looked down at her, head canting to the side.
“What if it used Alex to lure me into the woods because it knew you’d come after me and use more of your magic?” Wendy said. “What if it’s just buying time, trying to wait you out until your pixie dust is gone and your magic has been drained out of you?” She didn’t want to think it was possible. Peter gleamed with energy, from his quick smile to his easy laugh. Standing next to him was like being bathed in sunlight. Even now she could feel his warmth on her cheeks. Could the shadow really suck all of that brightness from him?
Peter said nothing for a moment. His eyes stared off into the distance, flickering with intensity and thought. When his face grew pale and his expression fell, Wendy wished she had never brought it up.
“Then I guess we better hurry up and put a stop to it,” Peter said, trying to force a confident smile. He didn’t do a very good job.
As they continued their trek, Peter’s eyes stayed on the ground. Wendy wanted to reach out, to touch his arm and tell him that they would figure it out and find a way to get him back home. But what if the doubt she felt was thick in her voice? So she said nothing.
The trees were denser now. They stood close together, their branches reaching out and embracing one another. Peter suddenly stopped and looked around. “Does any of this look like where you were in your dream?” he asked before letting out a huff of air and dragging the back of his hand across his sweaty brow. “Do you remember hearing running water?”
“No,” Wendy said. She rubbed her temple and tried to remember every detail, but the more time passed, the more they slipped away from her. She was irritated with herself for not writing it all down when she woke up. “The sun was setting, and everything was covered in snow,” she told Peter. “I couldn’t hear anything at first. Then, when I noticed the tree, I started to hear whispers, just like the ones I heard when I was chasing Alex and your shadow…” The intense heat wasn’t making her focus any better. She sighed and shook her head, and her hand fell back to her side. “But no running water.”
Peter turned in a slow circle, looking at their surroundings. The filtered light caught the copper in his hair. “If the tree was really that old, and the other trees around it were really that dense, then we need to go right into the heart of the woods,” he explained. He stopped and turned to Wendy. “And that is going to take longer than just a few hours.”
As much as she hated the idea of going even farther into the woods, Wendy knew he was right. She wrapped her arms tightly around her middle. “You’re right,” she said. Thick defeat settled inside her. There would be no outsmarting the forest. “But we haven’t got enough time to do it now. We should probably head back for the day.”
Peter nodded.
Wendy closed her eyes for a moment, trying to fight off a sense of impending doom crawling under her skin.
There was a crunch of leaves and then the light pressure of Peter’s hand against her arm.
“Hey.” She opened her eyes to find his, brilliant and blue, watching her. “I’ve got an idea. Let’s go this way,” he told her with a quiet smile, tilting his head down the slope.
Seeing as she had no idea where they were, let alone how to get back home, Wendy nodded in agreement.
Instead of going back the way they’d come, Peter led her farther down the ravine. She did her best to navigate the flat rocks and boulders.
Peter was an entire
ly different creature. Instead of moving slow and lazy, taking his time teetering across the terrain, now he was alert. He leapt from rock to log, pausing every so often to listen before setting off again.
Wendy panted, doing her best to keep up, but the farther they went into the woods, the quicker Peter moved. Her hair clung to her sweaty forehead and stuck to her lips. “Is this the way back home?” she asked through huffs of air. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see!” Peter said, flashing her a smile over his shoulder.
Wendy scowled in reply. She was too hot and winded to argue. Gradually, she noticed slight changes in the scenery. The foliage was a darker green in this part of the woods. The earth was damp, and Wendy nearly broke her butt sliding on a patch of mushrooms. Gradually, she could hear a steady sound, like thunder, growing louder over her own heavy breathing. Was it passing traffic?
“Peter, where are we going?” she finally demanded, fatigued and annoyed.
He was up ahead, standing on a large boulder. Peter’s posture straightened and he let out a whoop. “Found it!” he cheered, beaming at Wendy before bounding out of sight.
“Ugh, Peter!” Wendy scrambled after him.
When she found him, he was standing on a flat rock at an outcropping, his back to her.
A frothy cascade of water tumbled from a cliff tucked into the back of the ravine. It spilled into a pool at its base before flowing over rocks and boulders down a stream and deeper into the woods. Wendy’s jaw went slack. It wasn’t a huge waterfall, maybe only thirty feet high, but the pool was a glistening blue-green. Mist ghosted over Wendy’s cheeks, cool and welcoming.
Peter turned to face her, his arms spread out wide. His excited, cheek-dimpling smile was infectious. Wendy couldn’t help returning it with one of her own. “How awesome is this?” he said, his words garbled with laughter.
“I had no idea this was even here!” Wendy called back.