“Yes, I daresay it will.” He brushed her hair back and hummed softly, an old sea shanty that had always been one of her favorites. She could only remember the words when she was drunk but the melody was always beautiful. “I’ll make you a promise, though. I shan’t ever leave the bed until we’re both awake. Just so long as you promise the same in return.”
“It’s a promise, Captain.”
He kissed her long and steady and smooth to seal the oath.
Epilogue
He'd certainly made a lot of enemies lately, Wendy thought, as she peered through the dark green leaves and watched Peter sunning himself next to the Lagoon. Even the Fae weren't happy with him.
Fortunately for her.
A part of her remembered a cheerful laugh and ready smiles, and that part felt awful for what she was about to do. But the stronger part remembered James's hand, her own eyes, and time spent imprisoned in the lowest chamber of the castle.
There was no getting around it; he had to be dealt with. Even the Fae thought so, though they had much different reasons. The Queen had almost stomped her tiny foot in irritation when Wendy had brought up his name. "That boy!" she'd snapped. "I trusted my Tinker Bell to her, and what does he do? Gets her turned back into that wretched mortal form she was first in. No magic, no wings. Poor little thing. He was supposed to care for her, and instead he sees her transformed into a great lumbering beast! No offense intended toward you, of course. But you have to admit your bodies are quite awkward compared to ours."
She'd prattled on like that for quite some time, before agreeing to help create a potion.
"Now be quite careful with this," the Queen had said at last, motioning to one of her human-sized citizens to hand her the vial. "Don't let any of it touch your own skin."
"Why not?"
"Magic is a form of life. If you touch a magic-taker potion without having any magic to sacrifice. . ."
"Thank you," she'd said, and she'd held the vial very gingerly from that moment on.
Now she held it with the stopper out, allowing herself one more moment's hesitation before stepping out of the trees. "Peter."
He jumped to his feet, grinning at the sight of her. "Wendy! Come to your senses, then, have you?"
"Yes. I think I finally have." And she splashed the contents of the vial into his face. He sputtered and leapt back, going into the air, only to drop to the ground a scant second later.
"What did you--"
"Do? Took your magic. You didn't drink the first potion, so I got a stronger one. That's for my brother, by the way," she said. "And for me."
Hook stepped out of the forest's shadows then, a smile on his face that held grim satisfaction rather than victory. "Greetings, boy."
Peter bared his teeth at him, yanking his dagger out of his belt. "Come on, then, old man," he snarled. "I'll take your other hand, too."
"Not interested in fighting," Hook said, moving closer. "Been fighting you for years, and I'm sick of it."
With a yell, Peter darted forward, dagger out. Hook almost laughed; that style of foolhardy charging had let him win a battle once, but ever since he'd been prepared for it. Now he sidestepped and grabbed Peter's arm, using the boy's own momentum against him as he spun, sending Peter Pan sailing right into the waters of the Lagoon.
Peter resurfaced for a few seconds, terror shining in his eyes, and then something yanked him down.
Wendy came up beside him, and Hook looped an arm around her waist, gingerly resting the metal hook at her side. Together they stared out at the now-still water, waiting for him to resurface.
He never did.
***
He'd skimmed across these waters countless times. Even dunked his feet into them once, on a dare from one of the Lost Boys. But he'd never been fully submerged in them before.
The Lagoon was cold enough to steal breath; murky enough to cause panic even in someone who didn't know what these waters held.
Peter went for the surface, prayed that he would be able to reach the shore again before anything realized he was here. But he'd barely gotten his head above water before a slender, strong hand closed around his ankle and pulled him right back down.
"We've been waiting for you," the mermaid with the blond hair hissed. "Always thought you were so much more clever than us, didn't you? Teasing us, smiling, behaving as if there was no way we could ever touch Peter Pan. Why don't you open that mouth and sass me now?"
He kicked out at her, tried to swim away, but there was no hope of breaking her grip, no mercy in her eyes, no air. Then another voice, equally beautiful, telling the mermaid to let go.
"But I-- oh. Yes, of course." And her hands released him, let him go to float toward the surface. Before he reached where the sun's rays began to lighten the dark water, someone appeared above him, pressing their mouth to his.
And he could breathe.
He coughed, then gasped in great lungfuls of air while still several feet below the surface. "What. . .?"
The woman merely smiled, dark skin and dark eyes and these eyes held mercy, this smile wasn't knife-sharp. He took her hand willingly, and she led him further down.
A few moments later they were in an enormous chamber with Doors everywhere. Covering the walls; on the floor and the ceiling. He gaped at them for a moment, as the woman waited silently for him to regain his ability to speak.
"I am Scheherazade."
"I . . . so you exist? I'm very, very glad, don't get me wrong," he added quickly. "Just never really knew for sure."
"And now you do." She glided closer to him, took his hands. "You have it in you to be a great hero or a great villain, Peter Pan. It wasn't right for your story to end under these waters."
"Thanks," he said, tugging one hand away from her to scratch at the back of his neck uncomfortably. "So what now? Do I just go back home? Because if I go back I am going to kill Hook this time. His story will end if I--"
"That is forbidden. Both of you have been dancing the same dance for far too long. It is finished." She gestured around her. "Where do you wish to go?"
And as he watched, many of the Doors seemed to wink out of existence, taking away sights of animals he'd never seen before, landscapes that were utterly alien. In their place he saw people and places he recognized-- the first clearing in the forest that he'd called home; a small group of the Lost Boys playing marbles; Tink knocking on the door of a strange house; and--
"There," he said, his heart starting to pound at the sight of the red-cloaked woman. "Wherever she is." He knew that the large lizard-like animal she was currently battling should worry him, that he shouldn't ask to be sent to wherever those monstrosities lived, but all he could do was watch her gracefully move in for the kill. "Isn't she magnificent?" he breathed, so enchanted with the sight of her that he didn't notice the disappointment flash across Scheherazade's face.
"You are certain?"
"I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't!" Then he sighed, remembering his manners. She had just rescued him from the mermaids, after all. And in the long run, it probably wasn't a good idea to have a Goddess irritated at you. "Sorry."
"It's all right." There was still a chance for him, she knew. But this choice would make his road back to the better path a much harder one.
Still, it was his choice to make. And so she opened the Door and let him through.
******
Also by Stephanie Rabig:
In the Darkness Find Me
Jia's Charms
Stealing Time
For more about the authors follow the links to their web pages: Stephanie Rabig
Colleen Toliver
Angela Barry
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