Dark and Stormy

by Shayne Silvers

  “The Eatin’ Game?” I replied, dubiously.

  “Daddy! Are we going to play? You mean it?” Wendy exclaimed, having overheard her father.

  James groaned.

  But, before Peter could so much as explain the rules, dinner was put on hold; Barbie rushed in, tearing through the open door like a bat out of hell, her silver glow so bright it caused us all to shield our eyes. “Peter!” she yelled. “There are goblins outside. They’ve asked for you! And Quinn,” she added, glancing over at me, her expression fierce and protective.

  Peter’s jaw bunched as he glanced towards the door. He swung in a slow circle, studying his family, the people he’d sworn to keep safe, and then settled on me, eyes dancing.

  I felt a chill run up my spine at the raw, unfiltered crackle of mayhem rising up from the depths of his soul, peeping through the window of his eyes.

  “Let’s go see what they want, then,” he said, waving at me to follow him. “Wendy, we’ll play when we get back. James…” he turned and eyed the boy. “If anything happens, keep them safe.”

  The boy’s spine straightened, and he gave his adopted father a curt nod. “Yes, Dad.”

  Over his shoulder, Sarah gave Peter a look I couldn’t decipher—something between pride and caution. “Be safe,” she said.

  Peter winked. “Always.”

  I hobbled after the man with my barbwire-wrapped, Fairyville Slugger in tow, fully anticipating a fight.

  Or maybe I just wanted one.

  Chapter 21

  The moon—hanging so low in the sky I felt like I could reach out and prick my finger on its crescent edge—cast enough light that I could easily make out the goblin militia camped out in front of the fort by the main tower.

  Ugly little fuckers, goblins. Green-skinned and grey-haired, they were essentially the Fae equivalent of pugs—their eyes bulging out at odd angles, breath struggling to find its way out, despite their cavernous nostrils and gap-toothed mouths. Still, for goblins, these bastards looked relatively well outfitted; they had matching crimson uniforms reminiscent of the Roman legions.

  Together, Peter and I looked down on them from the nearest tower. After a few moments of study, Peter donned a thick, brown leather trench coat, strapped a wooden sword around his waist, and stepped out in full view, looking nothing like the mild-mannered family man I’d come to know; that arrogant smirk tugged at the corner of his lip.

  This, I realized, was Peter Pan in his element.

  A godling of war.

  “So,” he called out, his voice sounding ten years younger, “I hear you have something you want to say to me. I’m all ears.”

  A beautiful Faeling stepped out from between the goblins, standing much taller than his hideous companions, his hair loose and falling around his shoulders, obscuring his pointed ears. “We’ve come with a request from King Oberon,” Ryan called out. “He asks that you hand over Quinn MacKenna.”

  Barbie, sitting on my shoulder, muttered a few choice words in a language I’d never heard before. She hopped off to stare up at me. “What would King Oberon want with you?” she asked.

  I shook my head. I honestly had no idea. I’d never met the King of the Goblins before. Hell, until recently I hadn’t even known he existed. My best guess was Ryan had something to do with it; who else would know to tell King Oberon anything about me?

  Peter, pausing long enough to note my baffled expression, returned his attention to the Faeling below. “And if she doesn’t want to go with you?” he asked.

  Ryan frowned, then snapped his fingers. Two goblins, larger than the rest, came forward, carrying a man between them. At first, I didn’t recognize him; his clothes were ragged and torn, his hair wild and unkempt. But, the moment he looked up, I knew exactly who he was, despite the gag tied around his mouth.

  Alucard.

  “Ye Faelin’ bastard!” I yelled, stepping into the moonlight, pointing directly at Ryan. “Ye let him go right now, Ryan O’Rye, or I’ll come down and shatter every bone in your body until the only woman who’ll touch ye is a blind, ugly wench!”

  Peter’s eyes widened at my outburst. He leaned over, whispering, “Is this how you are all the time? Or are you feeling a little…wild?”

  I huffed, but glanced down at my bracelet to be sure. Nope, this was all me. I gave Peter a flat, level look in response.

  He made a placating gesture with his hands. “Alright then, thought I’d check, that’s all.”

  “Your vampire volunteered,” Ryan called up at me. “He said we could restrain him if we promised to find you. He was concerned. A little distraught, even. We saw you throw yourself from the ship, and thought you’d jumped to your death, until one of the sailors said they’d seen you talking to a sprite beforehand,” he snarled, staring pointedly at Barbie, his eyes narrowed to slits. I’d never seen Ryan look so…menacing. For some reason that—more than anything—bothered me.

  “Well, now you’ve found me. And I’m safe and sound. So let him go,” I demanded.

  “That wasn’t the deal,” Ryan replied. “King Oberon wants to speak to both of you.”

  “What does King Oberon want with her?” Peter asked, resting one hand on the hilt of his sword, which—I was pretty sure—had begun to wrap itself around his fist, as if the damn thing was alive, somehow.

  “That’s none of your concern,” Ryan snapped.

  Peter’s eyes flashed, and that arrogant smile returned in full force. “I’d be careful, little Fae.” He raised his hand, and four bowmen I hadn’t even noticed sprung up, floating in mid-air, their arrows pointed straight at Ryan.

  Ryan faked a yawn. “Please. If you fire,” he said, “these goblins will storm this place and leave behind nothing but ash and bones.” He leaned forward a bit, anticipatory, as if hoping Peter would call his bluff.

  “On the contrary. They will all die,” Peter remarked, coolly. “And painfully. All our weapons are made from the Nevernever trees grown in this place. Do you know what that means?”

  Ryan’s eyes narrowed, but eventually he jerked his head from side to side.

  “The Nevernever trees have been drinking in the blood of men, children, and Fae for centuries,” Peter explained. “They’ve gorged themselves for so long that now they can’t stop.” He leaned forward, grinning down at the Faeling. “They’ve grown used to the taste of us all, you see. The instant our weapons touch an open wound, they’ll suck you dry.”

  He hunkered down, flashing his teeth. “It’s a fun little game we play when we’re bored. And my sword has a drinking problem.”

  A concerned murmur went up from the goblins. Ryan turned to chastise them, but I was too busy processing what Peter’s claim meant to pay attention to what the Faeling had to say. My eyes widened in horror as I realized I held one of those weapons. I dropped my bat and danced away from it as if it were a snake. A vampiric baseball bat covered in barbed wire? Jesus H. Christ—I should have died ten times over by now, if that were true.

  Barbie hovered in front of my face, appearing as if from thin air. “It’s alright, Quinn. Take a deep breath. You need to calm down.”

  I did, realizing she was right. I was openly panting, and this was no time to panic. Besides, I was clearly fine. Maybe Peter was lying? Trying to scare Ryan and his goblins off? “That’s got to be it,” I muttered to myself. “I’m covered in cuts and scrapes, there’s no way I’d be alive now if he were tellin’ the truth.”

  Barbie sighed. “Peter and I wondered the same thing. Once I saw you holding that bat on Hook’s ship, I knew there was something special about you, even before I noticed the bracelet. I’ve never seen anyone bleed onto the wood of a Nevernever without being drained. Neither had Peter. In fact, when I told him, he didn’t believe me. Not until he saw you himself, using it as a cane.”

  I glanced over at the man in question, who had the grace to look at least a little guilty. “I’d never have let it do any real damage,” he said, “but I had to know. At first, I was hoping it might be th
e trees, but Barbie and I checked that theory while you were at my house.” He drew a knife from his boot and pressed the tip to his thumb. A drop of blood beaded up, welling over his skin. He retrieved my bat and pressed his thumb against its base. Peter hissed, and the wood of the bat reddened. He held the shaft out to me, insisting I take it. I hesitated, but the pain on his face convinced me I had to, or he’d end up passing out. By the time he drew away, his hand was a shade of purple, the bones visible beneath his flesh. “And yet…” he waved his good hand at me, noting the fact that—despite all the minor cuts across my hands—the vampiric bat had no effect on me.

  “You know none of us down here has any idea what’s going on up there, right?” Ryan called, sounding more than a little put-off to have been ignored for so long.

  Peter swung around. “You can’t have her,” he declared, shaking his bloodless hand as if trying to get feeling to return to it.

  “Then we’ll take her by force,” Ryan replied, sounding eager. The goblins raised their spears as one, while four more men soared into the air to join the bowmen, these holding javelins in gloved hands.

  “Will ye morons quit tryin’ to see whose dick is bigger, already?” I yelled, too pissed off to be diplomatic about it.

  Silence fell as all eyes swiveled to face me.

  “Peter,” I said, giving the boy who’d grown up my full attention, “they have me friend. I can’t leave him behind. And I don’t want any of your folk gettin’ hurt on me account.” I held up a hand before he could argue. “Besides, I need answers. That’s why I came here in the first place. King Oberon may have those answers.”

  “Answers to what?” Barbie asked, landing on Peter’s shoulder, looking concerned.

  “To who and what I am,” I replied, shouldering the bat. “To why I can hold this t’ing, and to what this bracelet means…” I trailed off, hoping Barbie might be able to supply me with at least a few answers; I’d planned to ask her later, but it seemed like later wasn’t an option.

  It was clear from Barbie’s expression, however, that—while she wished she had the answers—she clearly didn’t. Peter, meanwhile, looked disheartened. I wasn’t sure whether that was because I’d denied him his chance to fight, or because he didn’t want to see me go—both reasons I could understand. I reached out to grip his shoulder. “Will it make ye feel better if I promise to come back?” I asked.

  Peter smiled, but it was a sad smile. “We all make promises we can’t keep,” he said. I frowned, wondering if he was thinking about Wendy—the girl he’d left behind, if the stories could be believed. Still, he wasn’t wrong. This was a promise I’d be hard pressed to keep if I ended up dead in a Fae ditch somewhere.

  “I swear it on me power?” I said, half-jokingly.

  At that precise moment, a blast of cool air struck the side of the fort, the force of the gale nearly toppling us off the tower. Ryan and his goblins ducked for cover, coming up only after the blast of wind had stopped. Peter and I exchanged wide-eyed stares. He held out his hand. “I’ll be waiting,” he replied, his grin wide, no longer the least bit of doubt in his expression.

  I shook it, choosing not to mention that the wind was likely a coincidence. Had to be a coincidence.

  Whatever made him feel better.

  “Alright,” I yelled, waving to Ryan. “I’m comin’!” I frowned, then turned to Peter. “Now…how do I get down from here, exactly?” I asked.

  A small dinghy lay capsized at the edge of Mermaid Lagoon. It’d taken nearly an hour to find it—longer than it had to, frankly, considering Ryan had insisted on tying me up, gagging me, and having Alucard and I carried. I’d been pissed, at first, but didn’t mind it so much once it meant I didn’t have to join the goblins marching up and down the shore, looking for their boat. I was still a little sore, though it seemed my wounds had closed thanks to the strange, red healing unguent Peter had liberally painted over all my wounds. Even after giving the order to have me tied up, Ryan had refused to touch my bat, which I found ironic considering he was the one who gave it to me—my guess was that Hook hadn’t shared the secret of the Nevernever trees with his Faeling ally. Smart move. Instead, the Faeling had wrapped it in a cloak and handed it to one of the uglier goblins to carry.

  The goblins had set Alucard and I down several feet from the edge of the water as soon as we arrived, forced to find their boat and then chase off the school of mermaids who’d apparently absconded with it; the goblins caught them moonbathing, lounging half-naked, their fins drifting lazily in the water, the scales of their lower halves glistening in the moonlight. I watched in fascination as the goblins went running after them, shouting obscenities—like chasing away a flock of pigeons. The whole affair was amusing, or would have been, if I’d been remotely in the mood.

  I glanced over at Alucard, but the vampire didn’t seem at all interested in exchanging eye contact; he’d averted his eyes from me ever since Barbie had sent me floating down to meet Ryan outside the fort. I wasn’t sure if he felt guilty, or was pissed at me for abandoning him, or what—but I also found that I didn’t much care. Now that I knew it was there, I could feel my wild side, threatening to take over—to disregard what I wanted in favor of reacting to whatever was happening in the moment. That other me was there in the back of my mind, insisting we break free, take back our bat, and slaughter the whole goblin tribe.

  We could steal their boat, and use it to sail away from here, she insisted.

  We could find our own adventures.

  I bit my lip and concentrated on the dull, throbbing pain of my wrist. For some reason, doing so helped keep my wild side at bay, which I knew was a necessity if I wanted to survive. It wasn’t so much that I thought my wild side’s plan was flawed—minus the likelihood that I’d die long before I murdered all the goblins who’d been sent to retrieve me—as it was I thought her short-sighted; I’d meant what I said to Peter about King Oberon. If anyone had answers for me, it would be the Faerie King. I just had to hope he’d be willing to give them to me.

  Or that I could find a way to take them.

  “Get that boat flipped back over,” Ryan yelled, imperiously. “And you,” he said, pointing at the larger goblins, “get those two in the boat. Hurry it up!”

  The goblin on the left swung around, pressing the tip of his spear against Ryan’s throat. “I’ve had about enough of you bossing us around. You don’t speak for us, little Fae,” the goblin said, using Peter’s derogatory term from earlier.

  “I speak for King Oberon,” Ryan replied, eyes narrowed.

  “What comes out of your mouth isn’t worth our King’s shit,” the goblin replied. “And I’m done putting up with yours. Get the prisoners in the boat, yourself.” The goblin—a remarkably clever one judging by that exchange—lowered his spear and waddled off towards the boat with his companion, leaving Ryan alone with us. The Faeling’s hands were balled into fists. He took a deep breath, and I watched the tension leave his body. He then turned and dropped to one knee, yanking our gags free.

  “Quinn, please, no yelling,” Ryan whispered, his eyes imploring me to stay quiet.

  “Do as he says,” Alucard added.

  I glared at both of them, fully prepared to forego screaming if only I could get close enough to tear out their throats with my teeth. I took a deep breath. The pain in my wrist returned. “Ryan,” I whispered, “so help me God if ye don’t explain what’s goin’ on in the next five seconds…”

  “Once I found out King Oberon wanted you two,” Ryan said, his voice a low whisper, “I made a deal with your vampire friend here.”

  Alucard nodded, meeting my eyes for the first time since I’d been captured.

  “I know King Oberon,” Ryan continued. “He’ll do everything in his power to recruit Alucard to his cause. But the Winter Queen herself has asked for you, Quinn. King Oberon can’t deny her, since they’re allies. I’m not even sure he’d want to, except out of spite. I honestly have no idea what’s going on, but once you’re on that wars
hip, there’s nothing I can do. So here’s the plan we came up with…”

  I blinked rapidly. Wait…Alucard and Ryan were working a con on the goblins? No wonder they were acting so strangely. I bit my tongue as I listened to the Faeling’s plan, content to hear the Faeling out while he made a show of hefting us one at a time and carrying us towards the dinghy. By the time he was done, however, I was speechless and sure of only one thing: we were probably going to die.

  And my wild side was totally onboard.

  Chapter 22

  Apparently, the first step of their brilliant mutiny was for me to sit on a wet, rickety, water-warped bench.

  It was excessively firm and far from ergonomic, and drenched, thanks to its brief soak in the crystal-clear waters of Mermaid Lagoon. Ryan, after laboriously transporting us to the boat, had placed Alucard and I back-to-back to support each other, our hands and feet tied to rungs that had no other discernible purpose than to restrain beings against their will. As the goblins piled into the boat, I had a brief moment to wonder how we could all possibly fit in the relatively tight space, but it turned out to be less of a problem than I’d anticipated; the goblins, weapons and all, huddled together like Tetris pieces, spread out around us like stones around a fire pit. Only Ryan and the two larger goblins occupied the center with us.

  “Get us in the air,” the grouchy, spear-wielding goblin barked at one of his lackeys, who punched a big, red button I would have pushed myself on principle—had I not been tied up.

  The dinghy shuddered, the cough of an engine glugging below us, and suddenly we were airborne. Sleek silver wings shot out from either side, intricately carved, nothing like the metalsmithing I’d seen from goblins; their weapons were typically crude and garish. Jets of fire spewed out from their edges, propelling us forward. A moment later and we shot upwards into the sky, angled every now and again by the spear-wielder, who goblinned the helm by swiveling a mechanism shaped like an old-school window crank.