She would tell Hook where to find Peter’s ship—his beautiful, magnificent flying ship. And Hook would end up sinking it.
She knew it, and it made her ill just thinking about it.
The everlost couldn’t be killed by any means she knew. She had seen them shot and stabbed with her own eyes. They would have no reason to retreat. No reason to abandon their ship, even if they couldn’t fly it without the magical thimble she had stolen.
But Hook wouldn’t let them keep it either.
Rather than let them win, he would sink it—while it lay vulnerable upon the sea, stuck fast to the face of the earth thanks to her treachery—and that would be that. Hook would end up with nothing, and the most beautiful ship she could ever have imagined would be lost beneath the waves, never to sail again. Let alone fly.
But John, Michael, and Nana would have their freedom.
Wendy sighed.
At least she didn’t have to worry about Peter. He had other flying ships. He had said so himself. He would be all right. Curly and Tootles and the twins—they would be all right.
Wendy’s lips thinned into a hard line. She would never admit that last thought to anyone. She didn’t even like admitting it to herself. But it brought her some peace nonetheless as she rose back up into the air, heading out once again toward Hertfordshire.
y the time Wendy saw the now-familiar outline of Hook’s manor house looming in the distance, the first rays of the sun were just barely peeking over the edge of the world. Thankfully, the magic of the fairy dust did not begin to wear off until she had reached the outskirts of the closest hunting fields. It was only the last quarter mile or so that she had to trudge through on foot.
Nana and Poppy took off running as soon as they saw her descending from the sky. They were the first to reach her, whining in delight and relief, followed soon thereafter by John and Michael and Colin, who had waited for her in the garden all night, despite the cold. They sprinted toward her through the tall grass, arriving flushed and breathless and anxious.
“Wendy! Thank heaven you’re all right!” John dispensed of all propriety and hugged her tightly, only stepping back after several long moments to hold her at arm’s length, searching frantically for any sign of injury. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
“No, no. I’m quite well, I promise.”
“Where did he take you?” Michael demanded, glaring at John until he finally let Wendy go so Michael could hug her himself. When Michael was done, Colin decided he deserved a hug as well, being a part of the team. Wendy was only too happy to oblige them all.
“He took me to his ship, of course,” she told them, once she was free again. “Just as he said he would.”
John’s eyes lit up at that. “Could you locate it on a map?”
“Honestly, John,” Michael snapped, “that can wait! She’s been through something out there. Can’t you see that?”
“What was the ship like?” Colin asked, bouncing up and down on his toes, hardly able to contain himself. It wasn’t every day he saw people fly. He could only imagine what other wonders she had seen.
“At least let her get in out of the cold, the both of you,” Michael growled. “She’ll catch her death satisfying your curiosity.”
“Oh yes, of course. You’re quite right,” John agreed, looking at Wendy with an apologetic blush. “We must get you inside.”
“Sorry,” Colin added.
“I’ll admit, I could use a nice warm fire and a cup of hot tea. I’m sure we all could. But while we’re still out here, just the six of us,” Wendy said, making sure to include Nana and Poppy, “we all need to remember that everything we’ve seen tonight must remain in this company. We can tell no one else. Not for any reason. It is a matter of the utmost importance to king and country.” Her words were addressed to everyone, but she finished by looking Colin straight in the eye.
“Never! I promise!” the boy protested. “I’ll never tell a soul!”
“I know you won’t,” she assured him. “Now, let’s all go in and get warm. And after that, we’ll need the carriage. Colin, I do apologize. I know you must be exhausted. But we’re going to need you to drive us all the way to London. We must report to Captain Hook immediately.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
As they walked the rest of the way through the field together, Wendy buried her hands in the pockets of her coat. She felt the slight warmth of the thimble as she rubbed it idly between her fingers, pondering what to do about it. But for now, she said nothing at all.
After a hot breakfast, prepared by Mrs. Medcalf, who was always up early, they packed their bags and gathered at the front entrance.
“Aren’t you coming back?” Mrs. Medcalf exclaimed upon seeing that Wendy had all her luggage with her.
“I don’t think so.” Wendy hesitated. She couldn’t tell Mrs. Medcalf they were going back to their secret platoon in Dover Castle. “I think the captain wants me near him in London,” she said instead, wishing she had a better excuse.
Mrs. Medcalf, of course, was ecstatic.
“Oh, my dear!” she exclaimed, clasping her hands together against her heart in delight. “What wonderful news! You see? I told you everything would be all right!”
“You did,” Wendy agreed with a smile. “You were quite right.”
“But don’t let him try to hold your wedding in the city!” Mrs. Medcalf continued, shaking a finger in the air for emphasis. “You make sure you put your foot down about that! It’s loud and dirty—no place for a wedding. The two of you are to be married right here in Hertfordshire. You tell him! On a beautiful summer day with the whole family in attendance!”
“Of course, Mrs. Medcalf. I’ll tell him,” Wendy promised, while John and Michael exchanged a dark look.
“And with lemon cake,” Mrs. Medcalf finished, looking hopeful.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Wendy assured her.
Wendy hugged the woman, holding back a sudden tear, and then left the Hook Estate behind her, but not before leaning out the window in a very unladylike manor—just for a moment, mind you—waving goodbye one last time.
She was oddly silent throughout the long ride to London, despite John and Michael’s many questions. The two men sat across from her while the dogs lay curled up next to her, one on each side, blissfully content. Wendy had insisted on bringing Poppy along to protect Colin and the carriage on the way back to Hertfordshire, for which Mrs. Medcalf had been grateful.
“The ship is anchored off the coast of Dover?” John asked, after Wendy had given them just the briefest overview of her long night. She had left out most of the details—and any mention whatsoever of the thimble.
Wendy only nodded.
“And it really flies! That’s incredible!” Michael exclaimed, to which Wendy said nothing.
“How does it work? The flying?” John asked, but Wendy shook her head.
“You don’t know? Or you won’t say?”
If John’s voice held a hint of suspicion, Wendy raised a dangerous eyebrow and he dropped the subject. She had decided, after careful consideration, to hide the thimble in plain sight in her personal sewing kit, which was packed away in her luggage. She trusted both John and Michael with her very life, but she knew she would be on the verge of treason not to turn the thimble over to Hook. She didn’t want either of her closest friends to carry that burden with her.
So she had no intention of answering their questions until she had decided for herself what to do.
On the one hand, she had a clear obligation to inform her superior officers of anything she knew about the enemy. On the other hand, she had stolen the thing, and she wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about that.
Besides, it wasn’t as though Hook could use it. He was going to sink Peter’s ship. Wendy was certain of it. And he didn’t have any innisfay dust—let alone any innisfay—with which to build a new one. Not that Hook believed in magic in the first place. He probably wouldn’t even believe in an innis
fay if it flew right up to him and smacked him in the face.
Wendy sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing.
Of course. Hook didn’t believe in magic. He was going to sink the ship while it was still floating in the ocean, looking as normal as you please! He was never going to believe that it had ever flown at all! If Wendy gave him the thimble without any proof, he would only laugh at her. He certainly wouldn’t try to use it. He would never feel it come alive, hissing and spitting against the palm of his hand.
Come to think of it, she wasn’t sure it would do that without the ship to control.
Well, Wendy had had just about enough of being laughed at. She saw no reason to risk going through it again. And she certainly didn’t want to risk him throwing it away!
No. Just … no.
Having come to her decision, Wendy settled back in her seat, her eyes narrow with determination, her jaw set firmly, her fingers drumming the March of the Executioner on Nana’s sleeping head.
John and Michael shot an alarmed glance at each other, silently demanding, “Say something; no, you say something.” But even John’s superior rank wasn’t enough to make Michael utter a single word.
our fiancée is here to see you.” Sir William folded his hands behind his back and glanced around Hook’s office, taking in the vast collection of maps the younger man had plastered across the walls. In recent weeks they had accumulated a new, sprawling cipher of lines and circles and enigmatic notations, all written in Hook’s own hand. “I wouldn’t let her see this, if I were you. She’ll be convinced you’re not well.”
“Hmm?” It was more of a grunt than a question. Hook ran his good left hand through his dark locks and skewered the page before him with his hook, dragging it heavily across the desk until the paper fell off the edge into the empty air, fluttering down to join several dozen more, scattered below.
“Your fiancée? Surely that’s clear enough. Unless you have more than the one?”
“William, by all that’s holy, what are you talking about?” Hook removed his hand from his head and glanced up from the desk in annoyance. When he did, his hair fell across his eyes, wild and unkempt.
“Sir William. Try to behave like a civilized Englishman long enough to get rid of her without scaring her to death. The Home Office doesn’t need the sort of attention that would follow if a young woman were to run screaming from the building.”
“You’re saying she’s here? Wendy Darling is here?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, yes. Who else would I be talking about?”
“But … how did she even get here?”
“Your houseboy. Said his name was Colin. He drove her in the carriage all the way from Hertfordshire. Your carriage, I presume. He’s wearing your family’s livery.”
“She brought Colin to London?” Hook’s voice remained subdued, but the undertone of amusement had disappeared. Now it was ice cold, and he slammed his hook into the desk before him, burying its tip deep in the wood as he rose to his feet.
“Not just him. She brought her two guards too. And a couple of dogs. It’s a veritable circus downstairs.”
“The dogs?” Hook asked, blinking. “She brought the dogs?”
Sir William grunted his assent. “Come to think of it, she doesn’t seem that well herself. You might be a good match for each other.”
Hook scowled. “Well, why is she here? What does she want?”
“She wouldn’t say. Says she’ll only report to you. I explained that I outrank you, but she didn’t seem to care. Said she had information you requested. Sensitive information. If you’ve gotten that girl in trouble—”
Hook waved the idea away. “Of course not. I told you, there’s nothing between us. I gave her a task to complete. But I didn’t think she’d actually do it.” His voice trailed off as he considered the possibility. “Just keep the carriage here. Find a place for them to stay tonight. All of them. I don’t want that boy on the road after dark. But bring the girl to me.”
From the moment Wendy entered Hook’s office, she was accosted by the immediate and overwhelming impression of a mind on the verge of … well, on the verge of something extraordinary. But whether that something was to be an epiphany or a collapse remained to be seen.
The maps lining the walls now bore the calculated ravings of a man obsessed. His coat lay draped over the back of his chair, his shirt fell unbuttoned at the neck, and his hair hung loosely about his face as though he had no care for his appearance whatsoever. But his eyes … his forget-me-not eyes held the grim determination of gunpowder and steel.
“Miss Darling. Is something wrong?” He asked the question lightly, but it held a distinctly threatening undercurrent. He stood in front of the sturdy desk, leaning against it, his arms crossed over his chest. A multitude of papers lay scattered about the floor, but the desk itself was clear save for a single stack of pages. What she could see of its surface behind him was horribly disfigured, crisscrossed by deep scars, as though it had been locked in the room with a tiger.
“No. I’m perfectly fine, thank you.” But her eyes flicked involuntarily to the hook that extended from his wrist before returning to meet his gaze.
“It was suggested to me that I should clean up before inviting you in, but I was afraid it might encourage you in future unannounced visits.”
Wendy ignored the taunt and moved toward one of the maps on her left. She reached out and ran one finger over the bold, erratic lines, smudged in several places and bleeding in others, where the ink had been over-applied and had dripped down the canvas before drying.
“You’ll have to forgive my penmanship,” he growled. “It isn’t what it used to be.”
“Oh! No … that isn’t—”
“Why did you bring Colin here?”
“Excuse me?”
“Why … did … you … bring … Colin … here?” He stepped away from the desk, prowling toward her until Wendy felt compelled to back into the wall.
“He just drove the carriage.”
“He’s a boy! And you brought him here! To London! Where more boys are going missing every week! Their guardians killed in the streets! The public doesn’t know, but you do! You know the risks! And you brought him anyway!”
“They wouldn’t hurt him—”
“They wouldn’t hurt you, you mean. Or so you think. But even if you’re right, you have no idea what they would do to him!”
“I do know! Pan could have hurt him if he had wanted to. He could have taken him. But he didn’t. He took me. Colin was perfectly safe.”
“What are you talking about?”
“My report. The report I came to deliver in person, if you would stop trying to intimidate me for one second and listen. You told me to find an everlost ship, and then we could return to our platoon. Well I found one. Peter took me to it, and I know where it is.”
Excitement flashed in his eyes, followed immediately by suspicion. “Oh, Peter took you to it, did he? This I have to hear. By all means, deliver your report.”
“Are you going to stand this close to me the entire time? Have you truly lost all civility?”
“You’re not the first today to suggest that I have. And yes, I will stand where I please. The men of my unit are trained to hold their ground under gunfire, Miss Darling. Surely you can deliver a report while confronted by the open skepticism of a superior officer.”
Wendy squared her shoulders and stared him right in the eye. “Fine. Pan appeared again at the Hertfordshire estate.” (She thought it best not to mention the tiny dragon-fairy she had used to summon him.) “I pretended to be your prisoner so he would trust me.”
“I’m taking English ladies prisoner now, am I?”
“It’s not entirely inaccurate,” Wendy shot back.
“You are in the king’s service, Miss Darling,” Hook growled. “I ordered you to stay at the estate. I did not take you prisoner. There is a significant difference between the two. If you were my prisoner, you would
not be standing here in my office, having traveled to London of your own accord. But please, continue.”
“Yes, well … in any event, the ruse worked. He ‘rescued’ me and took me to his ship—”
“How did you get there?”
“He was able to carry me in his arms while he flew.” She thought it best not to mention fairy dust either, under the circumstances.
“All right. Continue.”
“He took me all the way to Dover Castle and out over the straits until we were no longer within sight of land. His ship was in the sea to the northeast.”
“That’s an exceptionally vague location, Miss Darling, considering the size of one ship as measured against the size of the ocean.”
“I’m not finished. He took me to his ship and demonstrated that it does, in fact, fly.”
The muscles of his jaw flexed at this, just once, but whether in disbelief or surprise, Wendy didn’t know.
“I asked him to take me to Dover, leaving the ship where you could find it.” And stranding it there without its magical flying thimble, she thought. But she left that bit out too.
“And what guarantee do I have that the ship hasn’t flown away?” Hook demanded.
“They’re waiting for me to return,” she said, raising her chin and holding his gaze. It was not entirely true, but it was close enough.
Hook just stood there, watching her.
“It’s there, I tell you!” she insisted. “Just east of the castle, and just far enough away as to be out of sight of land. Send a ship. You’ll find them.”
He stared at her a moment longer, then strode to the door, finally giving her room to breathe.
“Runner!” he shouted into the hallway. “I need a runner!” In moments, Wendy heard racing footsteps and then a reply, barked out between excited breaths.
“Yessir!”
“Find me Sir William at once.”
“Is there a message, sir?”
“No message. Just tell him I need him immediately. No matter what he’s doing. I don’t care if he’s three bites into a partridge. Now. Understood?”
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