“I think you might be wrong,” she told Archer.
He bent and picked up her nebulizer, and then swung one hand toward the house, motioning for her to go ahead. She realized then that he didn’t stay behind out of kindness, but had been left behind to make sure she returned to the house in one piece. Wren didn’t trust her even to walk back to Starlake without falling to bits. Instead of pointing that out to him or arguing about it, she fell in line, dutifully doing as she was told, just like she always did.
Chapter 2
Her sister was nothing if not punctual. The Jolly Roger set sail when the sun was directly overhead, its light shining white on the white water of the river that ran through their valley and eventually fed into the ocean not very far away. It wasn’t until the ship was out of sight, its white sails becoming indistinguishable from the puffy, low-hanging clouds, that Jae retreated back inside the estate’s walls. The departure had, as always, been chaos, and now Jae was left in the deafening silence of her solitude.
It always took a few days to adjust to the loneliness. There were not even servants to keep her company. Starlake essentially cared for itself—and for its residents—though she couldn’t say how it was done. Every now and then she would feel a presence in the house or on the grounds, see movement out of the corner of her eye only to look and find no one there. Wren told her it was magic, and Jae was inclined to believe her. But still, it could be a little scary, which was why she typically kept herself confined to a few rooms. It was pitiful, really—her sister was sailing the world while she was limited to an area she could walk the entirety of in a matter of minutes, and never without her nebulizer nearby.
She and Wren had not made up before she left. It was not the first time they had argued, to be sure, but it was the first time that Wren had left her without saying goodbye. The loneliness felt deeper because of it, like Wren might be so angry at her that she would never return, and Jae would grow old and die all by herself in the shadow of the mountain. And she still wouldn’t know how to swim.
Jae spent much of that first day in the library, losing herself in the tomes that her grandmother collected as some other rich old lady might collect jewels. There were history books, dime-store romance novels, classics that their governess had made them read years ago, recipe books, memoirs. But Jae’s favorites were the maps. Books upon books of maps—ancient and modern, cities and countries, roads and lakes and rivers. She could spend hours poring through just one set of maps, trying to pinpoint where she was, where she’d been, and where she hoped to someday go.
It was already dark by the time she made her way to the kitchen. There, she found a sandwich already prepared and waiting for her. The house was like that—it had a way of staying one step ahead of her. Sometimes, all she had to do was think of a thing and turn around, and there it would be on her nightstand as if it had been there all along.
She sat on a barstool at the kitchen and ate in silence. She stared out the window over the sinks and wondered how far Wren had gotten by now, if she was looking up at the same sky from somewhere in the middle of the ocean and thinking about her. A part of her hoped that Wren was sorry, that she regretted how she left things. But another part of her hoped her sister knew she forgave her, and that she was sorry. Jae was happy for Wren, truly. Happy that she’d found a place in the world, that she’d found happiness when sometimes there was so little to go around, that she had a purpose when most people just floundered. When Jae just floundered. But it wasn’t Wren’s fault, not really. At least, she tried not to let herself think that.
After eating, she went to her room just down the hall, where she changed into her nightgown and sat with her journal for a time. It wasn’t for words, but for pictures, images. Her own maps. She dreamed them sometimes, worlds that she would never know, and she liked to draw them in her journal. Her most common was a map of Never Island based on the stories that Wren had told her. And though she didn’t draw him, there was always someone else there with her as she explored these worlds and mapped them in her dreams—her sister’s dark captain. And always, just before she woke, he would plunge his hook into the center of whatever map she had created, and around the puncture, blood would seep, thick and red, covering her black lines like spilled paint.
When her eyes were drifting closed, she returned her journal to the bedside table and extinguished the lamp there. The window was open, just as she preferred, and the gentle sounds of the rustling leaves and the running water from the river lulled her into a sleep as they did every night. It was what she looked forward to the most every day—that moment when she could leave Starlake behind and become someone else, if only in her dreams.
She woke with a start some time later, eyes wide in the darkness. It took her a few seconds to understand that it had been the sound of the squeaking garden gate opening that had stolen her from her dreams. Could it have been just the house, one of its mysterious, unseen caretakers? But she had never heard one make noise before. It would be very unusual.
Heart pounding in her chest, she rose from her bed and crossed to the window, pushing aside the curtain just enough so that she could see out into the garden below. At first, there was nothing, but then—
Yes, just there.
A movement, a shadow slinking along the garden path. A man, dressed all in black. He moved smoothly and gracefully, his black cloak fluttering behind him as he wove his way toward the house. Something silver glinted in one hand, and she knew instantly who it was, and that she was still dreaming. Because Captain James Hook was trapped on Never Island. He couldn’t be here, no matter how real it felt.
She shrugged into her silk robe and pulled her sleep-mussed hair back from her face with one of her grandmother’s hair combs from atop her dresser. Then, she snuck down the hall on light feet, reaching the kitchen at the same time the captain slipped through the back door and into the room. Moonlight fell across him, but his face was cast in black shadow. It was otherworldly, the way he melted into the darkness.
Jae kept to the door, out of sight, barely breathing. She had to remind herself it was a dream, so real did the wall feel against her back and the cool air against her skin. Her grandmother was said to be able to make dreams real. Had she done that somehow, too? Brought this apparition to Starlake?
He moved silently, seeming almost to float as he approached the door where she stood. She backed away, pressing herself into an alcove as he passed. He was very cold, like he brought the chill air inside with him. And he seemed very solid, like if she were to reach out and touch him, she would feel the give of his skin beneath her real fingers, not just in her dream.
He did not notice her, so she followed behind him. He opened door after door, peered inside each room, and then continued on. What was he looking for? Treasure, maybe, since he was a pirate? Or her sister? Was he seeking revenge for when she left him imprisoned on Never Island? She wanted desperately to ask him. She wondered if she spoke to him, whether it would force her out of this strange dream and back into reality.
When he reached her room, he paused longer than normal and even stepped inside. She held her breath, watching from across the hall as he inspected her bed. Was her sleeping self in there, dreaming of his dark eyes, completely unaware that he was standing over her? Could it be that he was looking for her? But why? What had she done that was deserving of such a visit? But then he moved on, continuing down the hall until he came to the library and disappeared inside.
Of course, Jae followed, slipping in behind him just before the door clicked shut. He scanned the shelves, running his fingers along the spines of books and closely examining shelves of knick-knacks that her grandmother had collected. Strangely, the library was exactly as it was in real life, down to the dust on the shelves. She supposed it made sense, thanks to the amount of time she spent in this room, that her mind would be able to conjure it so exactly.
Unable to contain herself anymore, Jae spoke. “What are you looking for?” she asked.
; He whirled around, his cloak falling back and revealing his face. It was a face she had dreamed about hundreds of times, but never in this amount of detail—dark eyes, the scruff of a barely-there beard dark across the strong cheeks and chin, a swoop of dark hair falling across a furrowed brow. A face that made her stomach twist into knots with . . . dread wasn’t the right word, not exactly. More like, excitement. Anticipation. Looking at him was like staring into a pool of dark water—she had no idea what was beneath the surface, but a part of her knew she would have to find out someday.
“You’re James,” she said in her surprise. It was improper, of course, to use his given name, but it was what she had taken to calling him in her mind, and so it came easily out of her lips.
He looked startled. “Captain James Hook,” he corrected her.
“You can’t be here,” she said.
“What? Why?” He looked baffled as much by her words as by her presence.
It was true, Wren had told her as much. She had stolen the captain’s dreams so that if he left Never Island, he would never be able to return. It was a risk that Wren had been sure neither he nor Pan would take. So, this man, then, that stood in front of her, as real and solid as any she had ever known, had to be a dream.
“You’re stuck on the island,” she answered.
He cocked his head to the side. “Do I know you?”
Yes, she wanted to tell him. We are together nearly every night. Don’t you know me? But that was ridiculous. He didn’t have dreams, so he would not know her. So instead, she shook her head. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m looking for something that was stolen from me.”
Jae leaned against the back of a chaise lounge, the fabric rough and real beneath her fingers. “What does it look like? Maybe I can help.”
He at first seemed to want to protest, but then relented. “It’s a glass orb.” He held up his fist. “About so big.”
“Your dream-orb,” Jae guessed. “Don’t you know, it’s not here. It’s on board the Jolly Roger.” At least it was in real life. Maybe she’d brought it here in her dream.
He began slinking closer to her. “And where is my ship?” he asked.
She pushed away from the chair and moved to her right, keeping the chair between the two of them. “It’s not exactly your ship is it, not anymore.”
“The Jolly Roger will always be my ship,” he said. His presence was suffocating. She felt her breaths coming quickly. That didn’t usually happen in her dreams. He was close now, close enough that she could see the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed and she tried to match the rhythm, to keep herself calm.
It wasn’t working.
She stumbled backward, knocking against a shelf. One of her grandmother’s map books fell at her feet. Jae put a hand out to steady herself and he caught it, both movements seeming involuntary. “I need to wake up,” she wheezed.
“Wake up?” His brow furrowed.
“Wake me up,” she demanded, but she knew, suddenly, that this was no dream. That she was standing in Starlake’s library with her dark captain. His hand was real and warm, and she could smell him—like a salty breeze and sweet, fresh cut wood. He was a dangerous man, but not as dangerous as her own body.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” he said.
She had been so certain. It had seemed an impossibility that Starlake would let anyone beyond its walls, that she had refused to believe it.
“Are you . . . real?” she gasped, bringing her free hand to her chest, trying to will her lungs to open of their own accord.
“As real as you, strange girl, I assure you.” A dream come to life.
“I need—” She paused, gasping, the words not forming. “My room.”
There was a split second when she thought he would refuse her. When he would drop her hand and walk away and leave her to suffocate to death in her favorite room. Then, something like resolve crossed his face and he bent, scooping her into his arms. She gasped and heaved against his chest. He went straight for her room, maybe knowing it from his earlier examination, and deposited her on her bed.
She found her nebulizer beside her bed and brought it to her mouth for the second time in as many days, letting the small bulb and its medicine breathe for her. The captain stood over her, his brow furrowed in confusion, or maybe concern.
“Are you well?” he asked as her breathing came more regularly.
She nodded, though she wasn’t sure it was entirely true. She was able to breathe, if that was the question.
He took the nebulizer from her, studied it, and then handed it back to her. “Who are you?”
“Nobody,” she answered immediately, forcing herself to stand. She didn’t like having to look up at him like that.
“You know who I am,” he said. “It’s only fair.”
The backs of her legs pressed against the edge of her bed. He was so close, his body inches from hers, as if he didn’t understand anything about personal space. “Jae,” she heard herself answering. “Jae Darlington.”
He smiled in recognition. “The jaybird.”
It was her childhood nickname, one she rarely heard anymore except for when Wren was feeling particularly nostalgic. “Yes.” He smelled so good, fresh and woodsy. How was it fair for someone to smell that good? Most of the men who kept company with her sister smelled like sweat and ale. The only other boy she’d been around, Prince Nikov, had smelled like flowers and perfume. James smelled . . . like a man.
“The sister.”
That brought her out of her stupor. She ducked around him and scurried away to the opposite wall, putting some much-needed distance between them. The sister. She’d been silly to think that he might see her as anything or anyone other than how she related to Wren. She was always the sister, like her identity depended on someone else.
“You should go,” she said, trying to channel her sister’s confidence. “The orb isn’t here.”
He seemed more amused than offended by her rudeness. “But you are.”
“I already told you. I’m nobody.”
“Not to me, you’re not.” From the sheath at his side, he drew a sword that she hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying, and angled it at her. “You’re a lovely surprise, and to me you’ll do just fine.”
She looked down at the sword pointing at her sternum. “What do you mean?”
“Without my dreams, I can’t get back to the island. But you can get me there. And you have the added bonus of attracting your sister, who is no doubt joyriding around in my ship. A visit from her is long overdue.”
Jae took a preventative puff from her nebulizer and tried to remain calm. Because she was descended from the creator of the island—her grandmother—she was able to find the island, which was only accessible to others not of Darlington blood through their dreams. When Wren stole Pan’s and Hook’s dreams, she made it impossible for them to return if they were ever to leave. They’d assumed the boys were too attached to Never Island to take the risk, but Wren had underestimated James’ desperation.
Her dark captain was trying to kidnap her, like he was just someone else trying to order her around. The difference was, he wanted to take her with him to the island where she’d always longed to go. And he was right—Wren would come for her eventually, so it wasn’t like she’d be stranded there. What if, instead of him telling her what to do, she made the decision for herself?
She pushed the sword down with the palm of her hand, careful to keep it on the flat side. “You don’t have to point that at me,” she said. “All you have to do is ask.”
His brow furrowed like he was trying to puzzle her out. “Ask?”
“Ask me to come with you. Nicely.”
That had clearly never occurred to him. He slowly sheathed his sword. “Would you like to come with me to Never Island?”
She smiled sideways at him. “Yes, thank you. Just let me get my things.”
Chapter 3
The sailboat the captain had used to
reach Starlake was not far down the river, at a calm offshoot where Wren often went to fish when she was at home. She saw its mast first, poking out above the trees like a tall, skinny branch. Its white sails hung limp, and the craft bobbed lightly in the gentle current. It was no pirate ship; it barely even looked sea-worthy. Jae stopped walking, and the captain ran up against her back, catching her around the shoulders to stop her from falling.
“What is that?” Jae asked, turning around when she’d regained her balance.
“It’s a sailboat.”
She turned back to it. She’d grown up in the Frostwater, around boats and ships, and had spent the last couple years with the Jolly Roger coming and going. She was used to large, intimidating vessels. Ships that could withstand storms and giant waves and sea monster attacks.
“And we’re supposed to go all the way to the island in this sailboat?”
“Do you always ask this many questions?”
She really didn’t. She usually obeyed, but this particular situation warranted some hesitation.
A man appeared on board, apparently having come from inside the cabin. He wore a red cap and a tattered white shirt. He removed his cap and waved it at them as if they couldn’t see him otherwise. In his other hand he held a black, tri-corner hat.
“Who is that?”
The captain didn’t answer. Instead, he nudged her forward with his hook, poking her sharply in the middle of her back. She yelped and took a few steps forward almost involuntarily. Her pack that held her nebulizer, extra bulbs of medicine, and a few bundles of wrapped food bounced against her back.
“But is it safe?” she asked over her shoulder.
He grumbled something inaudible under his breath.
The man on the boat leaped to the shore, surprisingly agile for a man of his age and size. “What’s this?”
Captain Hook took the tri-corner hat from him and situated it on top of his head. Then, he shed his cloak, revealing the scabbard that had been mostly hidden and a fine leather overcoat, and handed it to the man. Suddenly, he did look very much like a captain, like the man in her dreams, even if the boat left something to be desired.
Kingdom of Villains and Vengeance Page 37