She only caught snippets of the chaos, until Growling Bear came to a halt. Gwen didn't know why he'd paused. The forest seemed calm and empty where he stopped.
“Growling Bear?” Tiger Lily asked. She and Storm Sounds emerged from behind the brush right in front of them. The creeping redskins could move so seamlessly through the wilderness! Gwen didn't know how Growling Bear had even spotted them.
They carried a post with a bound and gagged black coat hogtied to it. He had given up squirming for the most part—he seemed more flabbergasted than anything.
Tiger Lily and Storm Sounds dropped their captive. “Gwen!” the redskin princess exclaimed, delighted to see her friend peeking up at her over the furry back of the grizzly bear. “What news?”
“The adults have sent their shadow soldiers out into the jungle,” Gwen informed her, pointing to their shadow-less prisoner to prove her point. “I haven't seen any of them though.”
“Neither have I,” Tiger Lily agreed.
Growling Bear growled.
“I think they're looking for the Never Tree,” Gwen told her. “And I think shadows might be magical enough to find it easier than the soldiers themselves.”
Tiger Lily's troubled but alert expression told Gwen that she had pinpointed a problematic possibility. “What happened to your shadow?”
“It's a long story,” Gwen answered. “I lost it during the night with Piper.”
Tiger Lily nodded. “Growling Bear, can you take this white man to the pirates?” She pointed in the direction of the pirates' search and capture mission. “I need to find my father. He will be able to help hide the Never Tree from the shadows.”
She and Storms Sounds lifted the staff with the hogtied solider into Growling Bear's impressive mouth as Gwen slipped off him.
“Are you okay?” Tiger Lily asked, indulging the brief concern that the moment afforded them.
“Yeah. I think so,” Gwen answered. “One of the black coats shot me, but I think I might be able to fly again…”
She tried to lift off her feet. She managed to hover, and attributed her recovery to the confidence she gleaned from riding a magical grizzly bear through the woods.
“Stay safe,” Tiger Lily warned her. “I'll tell the Chief about the shadows.” She pulled her into a hug. Tiger Lily smelled of crisp leather and honeyed sweat, which suited her much better than the smell of laundry detergent and the stale trailer home had.
“You too,” Gwen told her, but Tiger Lily was already letting go, already dashing away. Storm Sounds examined the ground for tracks, and took off in pursuit of another invader.
Gwen drew the tin can out of her satchel and shouted into it, “Peter, are you there?”
A moment's pause followed before Peter picked up. “Where else would I be?”
“I don't think the shadows are coming after us. Have you seen any?”
“Hm, I suppose not.” His voice sounded thin and metallic as it bounced out from the tin can phone.
“I think they're looking for the Never Tree. I told Tiger Lily—I think she has a plan. Where are you?”
“By golly, I think you're onto something, Gwen-dollie,” he replied, his seriousness lost in the high, tinny tone of the can. “I'm keeping a perimeter around the tree with a few others. No body has gotten past us, but I'm not sure about shadows.”
“Keep your eyes peeled for them, too.” Gwen wished she could do more to help. She wished she could have called with a plan in mind. What good would it do to watch for shadows? Gwen had only ever seen them fought off with the shadows of swords, and she doubted any of the lost children had the dexterity for such combat. What's more, the splotchy lighting in the jungle offered plenty of shade for the sentient shadows to camouflage themselves against.
“I'll radio for support,” Peter answered, without elaborating who he could possibly radio. The tin can line went dead, and Gwen assumed that Peter had returned his attention to his patrol.
Lacking direction, Gwen decided to head for the Never Tree. The soldiers who had landed on Neverland's nouth beaches had spread out so well it made no sense to continue making her way toward that shore to stop them. Besides, if shadows were searching for the Never Tree, the children monitoring it need every extra set of eyes they could get.
She tested her flight once more, but could only hover a bit. Continuing on foot, Gwen would just have to take care not to trigger any traps. She had seen plenty of them set up and knew what to look for. Making her way to the Never Tree, she didn't have any reason to suspect she was being followed.
Chapter 22
Gwen proceeded through the forest with a cautious respect for all the surprises hidden in it. However, a watchful presence kept pace far enough behind her that she would not catch it spying on her. Her stalker didn't know she was heading for the Never Tree but, on the other hand, Gwen didn't know where the Never Tree was. She barreled forward with only the suspicion that if she headed toward the heart of the island, she would come close enough to find the children patrolling it.
The Never Tree, and Neverland itself, was a trickier beast than she gave it credit for. Several minutes into her trek, she stumbled onto an unintended destination and arrived at the grove.
Gwen could see her familiar home through the break in the trees. A handful of wildflowers dabbled the clean and grassy ground, and as she stepped into the open grove—where the sunlight spread like a canvass—she noticed the shadow slinking behind her.
More afraid of the slippery blackness than any actual soldier, Gwen let out an impulsive scream. She leapt into the field as if that would help her get away, but the shady thing could chase as fast as she fled.
Gwen's assumption that all the shadows on the island were searching for the Never Tree was swiftly dismantled as this shadow grabbed her foot. The hand felt as real and heavy as any physical hand, and brought her down as she tried to jerk out of its hold.
The only way to escape it was to escape surfaces, but the air would not give Gwen flight—it hardly gave her breath. She toppled down and could not push herself back up before the shadow swarmed over her. She couldn't tell if it was swaddling her like a blanket or pinning her to the ground like a wrestler. It put a hand over her mouth, as if to silence her, but blocking light did nothing to block the sound. Gwen shouted for help.
She couldn't imagine its endgame. Would it keep her down until a solider found her and took her into custody? Who knew how long that would take—or what the advantage would be unless its body was nearby and poised to collect her? When no one came, it confused Gwen almost as much as when the shadow started waving its free hand over her eyes. The sun flashed in and out of her vision, and the shadow continued to hold a hand over her mouth, even though this gesture achieved nothing.
The light flickering in and out of her eyes started to fade. The sky started to darken, and the shadow's motions became more frantic. Gwen didn't pay attention to the hostile shadow; she paid attention to how much lighter she felt as the light left the sky. In a few minutes' time, she slugged off the faint shadow and watched the weak thing shirk away. It continued to make gestures on the grassy floor of the meadow, but they grew too faint to see. Only then did Gwen suspect it might be trying to communicate with her.
On her feet and in control of her body again, Gwen turned to face the sun and saw it swallowed by an eclipse. The last of the sunlight vanished, and so did the meager shadow. As it did, it occurred to Gwen that the shadow seemed too small to belong to an armored black coat. Had someone else sent a shadow to her? Had someone been trying to send her a message?
Her questions went unanswered. The shade of the eclipse would consolidate and disorient all the shadows scouring Neverland. They would have no bright surfaces left to glide.
The alarmingly strange luck of an eclipse at this precise moment didn't confuse Gwen for long. She suspected that Tiger Lily had conferred with her father, and Chief Dark Sun had managed to interfere with the shadows himself.
An eclipse would only l
ast so long. Gwen suspected she didn't have more than five minutes before the totality of the eclipse began to dissolve. The moon would push past the sun, and the shadows would become powerful and swift again.
She heard rustling in the brush behind her and felt her heart leap into her throat. She did not want to be found in an open field without any cover.
“Ahoy!” a gruff voice greeted her. Two flat-footed pirates came stomping out of the brush, their pistols drawn. “Heard you screaming, didn't we, lass?”
Gwen looked off and gestured, pointlessly, to the place where her attacker had disappeared. “One of the shadows surprised me.”
The taller of the two, with a beard as red and rough as coral, shoved his pistol away. He had a bright green glass eye that didn't match his natural green eye at all. Gwen wondered if he knew eye-patches were more traditional. Holstering his gun, he remarked, “Can't shoot a shadow.”
The smaller pirate switched his pistol for a rolled up map and examined it as he announced, “I'm Jimmy Sloat, and this here is Madman Mulligan.” He unrolled the map, and Gwen noticed Jimmy Sloat was missing a finger on his right hand. The scar on his hand ran halfway up his arm. She didn't want to know the story behind such a scar. “Captain told us to keep a lookout for you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, Hoffman, ain't it?” he asked. “He said you'd surely get yourself stuck in trouble, running around the island with Pan's herd of pipsqueaks.”
Gwen resented Starkey's doubt. “Well you can tell him that I managed just fine on my own.”
“You got real lucky there with the weather,” Madman Mulligan grumbled, shielding his eyes as he looked at the eclipse.
Before Gwen could insist that it was an astronomical event, not a weather event, Jimmy Sloat barked, “You durn fool, that was redskin magic if I ever saw it.”
Madman Mulligan grumbled something else, and then asked, “Which way is we supposed to be heading?”
Gwen thought the pirates spoke very poorly, considering they belonged to the crew of a ship called the Grammarian.
Jimmy Sloat turned the map upside down, and then right side up again, with a cross expression that Gwen did not find encouraging.
“Do you know where them guttersnipes rigged their big trapping pit?” he asked. “This map don't give no point of reference for us to start at.”
“Yeah,” she answered, uncertainly. She had a healthy mistrust of pirates, the same as any lost child. “Follow me.”
For Gwen, the meadow served as a strong point of reference. She'd been with Rosemary and Twill while they had rigged the biggest of the leaf-covered holes just a few yards from the meadow's edge. With the pirates behind her, she cut across the meadow. While the men both had both their legs, Jimmy Sloat walked with a limp that kept him a pace behind at best, and scrambling to keep up at worst. Madman Mulligan carried a heavy, jangling bag that rattled as they walked through the cornflowers and past the lilac bushes.
Jimmy Sloat caught up once Gwen reentered the jungle and slowed down, careful not to fall into the trap herself. This was an unnecessary precaution—someone had already tripped the trap, and a team of three black coats bitterly occupied the bottom of the pit. Gwen felt bad for them, and hoped they hadn't hurt themselves when they toppled down together.
“Hey ho!” Jimmy Sloat chortled, looking down at them. “Had you a bit of a fall, did you?”
In response, the quickest draw of the three shot him in the face.
The magic-repellent splattered against Jimmy Sloat's face, covering it—hook nose, warts, and all—in blue gunk. Unamused, he smeared it off his face and drew his pistol. “You yellow-bellied, rat-faced, swine!” he yelled. “Do I look like a fairy to you? Pirates ain't magic, we's just here to capitalize on it—same as you ugly freebooters.”
To prove a point, he fired a booming shot from his wood-handled pistol. The iron ball, not as aerodynamic as modern bullets, struck the stony wall of the trap pit and carried little force as it ricochet into one of the men. He howled as it stung his arm, but one of his fellow soldiers picked it up and examined it with horrified curiosity.
“Now then,” Jimmy Sloat announced, as if continuing an eloquent discussion, “you've come a good long ways to be here today and we're going to schlep you a good long ways back. A most merciful fate, considering the atrocities you was intending to commit on this island. Why, such stuff's beneath even the most malicious of pirates! Ain't that right, Madman?”
“That's right, Jimmy,” Madman Mulligan answered, giving a single, solemn nod.
“So we's going to get you out of there and take you back to the ship with us—all with no fuss, eh boys?” He cocked his gun again. “And, in case you were wondering, that first shot was a warning shot. I'm the best shot this side of the Indian Ocean. Ain't that right, Madman?'
“That's right, Jimmy.”
The black coats, forced to surrender, reluctantly complied with Jimmy's demands. All the while they cursed the bad intelligence they had gotten regarding the pirate population of Neverland.
Gwen, meanwhile, was distracted by the sound of a man shouting a little ways off. It sounded like a heated, one-sided argument, and the odd rambling compelled her to investigate.
Chapter 23
Gwen didn't have a hard time tracking down the shouting. The man was clearly having some kind of trouble, and working himself into a fit trying to resolve it.
“No, I didn't say that! You're putting words in my mouth!”
As she neared, she heard the much more measured side of the argument. “Even supposing I did… it's your eyes putting me in this tree,” his antagonizer purred. “So who is really to blame?”
“No—you're not real!” But the man didn't sound so certain.
“Then I must be in your mind,” the orange cat replied. “Which, if I were you, would be even more troubling. However, being me, I find it quite agreeable. It's a very cozy existence, inside a madman's mind.”
“I'm not crazy!” the black coat shouted, halfway hysterical. “I'm not. I'm not seeing things, you're just not real. You're not made up, it's just… I just…”
Too tied up in his mind, the solider didn't notice Gwen. The cat with the sprawling grin certainly did, however, and he smiled even brighter and toothier for her. His tail flicked back and forth a bit, but then began to dissolve into nothing. Disappearing inch by inch with his happy, yellow eyes zigzagging, he informed her, “You can have this one. He should be tame as a little pussy cat now.”
“I am in full command of my mental faculties!” he shrieked. “I know it's not real, it's just not not real either. It doesn't mean anything!”
Madman Mulligan and Jimmy Sloat, either following after Gwen or drawn to the black coat's shouting of their own accord, arrived at the scene a moment after the cat had finished disappearing. In tow, they had the three soldiers, now unarmed, jangling along on a chain gang. The heavy chains dragged on the forest floor and trailed far behind them—the iron snake anticipating many more captives.
“You can't fool me!” the poor solider yelled at the vanished cat. “You're not gone—you never were!”
“What's this, lass?” Madman Mulligan asked.
“Leonard?” one of the chained black coats asked. “Leonard, what on earth is wrong with you!”
Jarred out of the fight he'd lost with logic's most amenable enemy, the perturbed solider shouted at them, “The cat! The talking cat! He was here a minute ago!” He didn't seem at all concerned with the state of his fellow soldiers, or the presence of Gwen and the pirates. The Anomalous Activity officers starred at the raving man with pity and fear.
“I think you ought to take him, Jimmy,” Gwen said.
This remark drew Leonard's attention to her, and he turned to her for support. Dropping his gun and grabbing her shoulders, he demanded, “You! You saw him, didn't you?” The man appeared so pathetic and nonthreatening, Gwen wasn't afraid even as his ridged fingers dug into her shoulders—clinging to her for some sort of assuranc
e. “The cat… the cat thought I was crazy! But you heard him talk, didn't you?” His wide eyes begged Gwen for a response.
“What cat?” she asked.
Leonard screamed and stumbled backward. Fortunately, Madman Mulligan and Jimmy Sloat were standing by to catch him.
“Easy there, fella,” Madman Mulligan cautioned.
“Don't worry,” Jimmy Sloat assured him. “Where you're going, the nurses won't let any cats in.”
Leonard offered no resistance as the pirates linked him into the chain gang, but he did continue to protest, all but foaming at the mouth, that he was completely sane. The pirates' patronizing acknowledgements did nothing to comfort him. He continued to rave, rightfully convinced that no one believed him.
The totality of the eclipse had passed, and the sunlight seeping back into the sky even infiltrated the jungle. Gwen saw the soldiers' shadows all restored. In the dark chaos, the shadows must have deemed it safest to return to their owners. Madman Mulligan noticed this, too, and drew his sword as he announced, “If I catch any one of ya scurvy souls without a shadow, it won't have a body to return to!”
Brandishing the blade, he intimidated all his prisoners—except for Leonard, who remained occupied with inaudible muttering. His ambitions lowered, he now seemed to hope he could at least convince himself of his sanity. The crazed look in Madman Mulligan's one real eye told the black coats everything they needed to know. It was pointless, when Jimmy Sloat informed him, “Mulligan will do it, don't you doubt it. He's mad.”
“I'M NOT MAD!” Leonard howled.
The soldiers heeded the threat, and kept their shadows attached to their feet.
While Madman Mulligan glared at them, Jimmy Sloat turned his map right-side-up with confidence. “Should be five-hundred paces that way to the next of the wee scalawags' traps. Thank you kindly, Miss Hoffman, for orienting us.”
The Grown Ups' Crusade Page 13