Forever Neverland

by Forever Neverland (epub)

  Wendy slowly shook her head. She didn’t want to walk the plank. She didn’t want to die at sea or be flogged or lose a body part or any of those other horrible punishments that she’d read pirates dealt upon one another.

  She would rather die fighting.

  Of course, escape would be a better option. But, again, she couldn’t take to the air with the pirate in front of her. He would easily block her path.

  Cecco roughly pulled his sword away, shoving her back a few steps as he did so. Wendy caught herself and kept her sword arm up, watching him with wary gray eyes.

  But the pirate waved his sword gracefully to the side and then darted over Wendy, performing a perfect aerial flip as he cleared her head and the tip of her sword.

  Wendy was forced to turn around to keep him in front of her. And when she did, it was to find both Cecco and Mullins standing before her now, the firelight from the torches overhead dancing wickedly in their eyes.

  *****

  Hook turned away from Wendy and his men and focused on Peter, who was holding his head with both hands and trying to stand once more. His magical sword lay on the ground beside his boots.

  Hook lowered his own sword and leveled it beneath Peter’s chin. “It appears as if never is not quite so long, after all.”

  Peter looked up and Hook noted that his eyes were no longer glowing red. They were green and clear and there was a stillness to them, as if they were the surface of a pond that no stone had disturbed for centuries.

  Hook frowned, trying to find the fourteen-year-old boy in them. But Pan was elusive as ever, and so Hook’s gaze narrowed. “It’s over, Pan.” He raised his sword, ready to make the killing blow, when Smee’s voice cut through his consciousness and brought him up short.

  “Cap’n, look out!”

  Most people, at hearing those words, would have turned to look – as the warning so foolishly suggested. However, Hook was no fool. He knew good and well what “look out” really meant. With practiced speed, he lowered his sword and crouched down, managing to duck out of the way just as an arrow went whizzing over his head to smack into the bouldered wall across the chamber. Hook glanced at the arrow as it toppled to the water below, and then he straightened and whirled to face the direction from which it had come.

  Pixie dust trails lined the interior of the cavern, marking the presence of four fairies, at the least. Hook followed these trails to the entrance of the cavern. The Native known as Lean Wolf stood with several other members of his tribe at the storm-wrought mouth of Skull Rock. He was being braced by his companions against the wind and rain and rising tide. And he was notching another arrow.

  The situation was going from bad to worse.

  Hook had had enough. He’d come to Skull Rock for two reasons and two reasons, alone. He wanted to kill Peter Pan. That was a given.

  But, as James Hook stood there, in the wake of the storm and the arrows and formulated a brutal and heartless plan, it wasn’t Pan he was thinking of.

  The second arrow shot toward him and Hook once more easily sidestepped the flying weapon. Behind him, he heard a scuttling, shuffling sound. He turned; Peter was going for his sword.

  Hook strode forward and kicked the blade out of the way just as Peter’s hand would have closed over the hilt. They watched it skitter across the wet black rocks until it was stopped by a second pair of boots, brown instead of black.

  Mr. Smee bent and lifted Pan’s sword, holding it aloft in his hand. For once, the bespectacled man was smiling a smile that was a touch less genial and a bit more nasty than the one he normally wore.

  But Smee’s tiny victory was short lived because it was then that the fairies chose to unite, and it was Smee they chose to attack.

  The first mate ducked, covering his head with his free hand as three flying pixies dove for his head. They sported coconut-sized rocks in each hand, like ants with giant bread crumbs, and they chucked these rocks at Smee as they soared past.

  Smee managed to catch the first two attacks on the knuckles of the hand he was using to protect his head, but then the pain obviously got the better of him and he lowered his hand to take the third rock in the head. He fell to one knee, releasing Peter’s sword so that it clambered noisily to the stone beneath him.

  Peter immediately dove for it, grabbing the hilt in fingers that had become slick with rain and sweat and the blood from his head. He stood once more, the weapon now firmly in his grasp.

  But as he turned to face Hook, a hush fell over the cavern. The lightning ceased to flash. The thunder stopped rolling, and the wind died down.

  All was quiet.

  All eyes were on Hook.

  Chapter Twenty

  Wendy stepped back from the two pirates, clenching her fist around the grip as she tried to think of something to do next. One pirate was bad enough. One flying pirate with a sword was worse. But one flying pirate with a sword and another on the ground was impossible.

  And then Mullins and Cecco looked over Wendy’s shoulder and the massive cavern fell suddenly, eerily, quiet.

  Wendy frowned. Cecco lowered his sword, his gaze still focused on something behind her. Neither pirate moved. It felt as if all of Neverland had come to a stand still.

  Very slowly, and against every natural instinct she possessed, Wendy turned around.

  Down below and across the rippling black water, Captain James Hook stood on a slick, dark platform of stone with Michael Darling held tightly in his right arm, his left hand pressing the barrel of his pistol against the boy’s temple.

  Wendy went very still. The world felt as if it was dropping out from under her. She dared not breathe. She even willed her heart to stop beating so fast, lest Hook hear it and pull the trigger.

  He peered up at her with those Cerulean blue eyes and, even from this distance, she felt as if she would drown in them. The seconds stretched, threatening minutes, and then Hook cocked the gun.

  “Please, no!” Wendy wanted to fly to him, but she feared that if she did, he would finish it. Thus, she was frozen in that spot, her shoes glued to the stone by the fear in her heart.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t hurt him, my dear Wendy,” Hook said. In the unnatural silence, his voice rang out clearly and echoed off of the walls. “After all, I gave my word that he would not be harmed, didn’t I?” He shook Michael then, eliciting a grunt of pain from the child. “And a promise is a promise.”

  Lightning slammed into Skull Rock, an electric force like a bomb, stronger times ten than any other blast had been. The accompanying thunder clash was deafening. Pirates, pixies, and Natives who were not carrying weapons instantly crouched low and tried to cover their ears. But the ground shook beneath their feet, knocking them off balance and forcing them to use their hands to catch themselves.

  The wind picked up again, gaining at an absurdly abnormal speed, until within a few short seconds, it was howling through the cavern. Firelight danced and flickered, casting crazy shadows on everything and everyone in the cave.

  Wendy shut her eyes against the sting of airborne salt water and her own whipping hair. When she opened them again, it was to watch one of the ancient, magical torches against the wall being knocked from its sconce by the gale.

  As far as she knew, that had never happened before. The torches of Skull Rock forever burned. They had never been moved and they were never extinguished.

  Yet, it fell, all the same. The torch made a strange sound as it hit the ground. It was hollow and empty and final.

  The flame went out.

  Wendy’s sneakers slipped against the overhang on which she’d been standing. The rock had split and cracked under the force of the awesome thunder clap, and she screamed as it now crumbled beneath her, dropping her toward the darkness and the water below.

  She heard someone shout, but the sound was drowned out by another mighty boom of thunder. Wendy’s arm was wrenched painfully in her socket as Cecco’s hand slammed around her wrist and pulled tight. She dangled from his grip, saved from the icy wa
ters beneath her by the very pirate she’d been trying to kill.

  Another torch fell from its port and tumbled ominously to the ground. Wendy couldn’t see her brother; she couldn’t see Hook. But as Cecco yanked her back up and over the lip of the overhang, the cavern’s light began to wane.

  One by one, the torches fell, the wind furious and deadly, the thunder causing the rock to splinter and fall all around them.

  As Wendy hit the ground and Cecco released her to her hands and knees, the last of the torches extinguished itself, casting Skull Rock into utter and impenetrable darkness.

  Wendy pushed herself up to her feet once more and turned toward the place where Hook had been holding her brother. At least, she thought it was the same place. It was impossible to tell.

  Only the fairies – four of them in all – were visible in the cold, black interior of the cavern. Two were near the entrance, taking shelter behind two giant boulders that protected them from the majority of the wind and rain.

  Another hovered several yards away from Wendy. It wasn’t Tinkerbell; Wendy would have been able to tell if it was. The fairy spun in place, obviously trying to cast some sort of fairy magic that would give them all light – but nothing was working, and the wind was buffeting the tiny pixie’s wings with a mad vengeance.

  The fourth and final fairy floated in the center of the room. But, despite the blustering gale, it was unmoving. Wendy could see dark bands around its body, as if –

  Someone was holding it!

  The fairy suddenly shook, sprinkling its pixie dust into the darkness. And then it was released to be carried further into the cave by a gust of wind. Wendy’s heart sank. She had no idea who had just used the fairy in that manner, but she was positive that it wasn’t Peter. He could already fly.

  The pixies were doing more harm than good in this battle.

  A grunting sound and the clash of steel on steel took Wendy’s attention from the darkness below to the darkness only a few feet away and in the air in front of her. There was a clang, and then another one, and then a kind of thunk. Once more, there was nothing but the storm to break the silence.

  It seemed to be calming down a bit again, but Wendy didn’t trust it. It was a wholly unnatural storm, tied to the whim of something angry and unseen. It was like the breath of some massive water dragon. Or the will of Poseidon.

  Someone ran into Wendy then, sliding a strong arm around her waist to lift her once more from the rocky ledge. She gasped as her feet left the ground, and tried to think of something happy so that she could catch herself if she fell.

  But she doubted the pixie dust was any good any more, anyway. It only lasted so long and she’d only received a tiny amount from Tinkerbell. So, as a second resort, Wendy clung to her captor, turning toward him to wrap her arms around his neck.

  She recognized Hook instantly. He was bigger than Peter. And his clothes were different. There was the black lace beneath her cheek, and Hook didn’t smell of leather as Peter did, but of expensive cologne, stolen spices, and soap. His long sable hair was damp where it brushed Wendy’s cheek.

  She wondered if he was going to fly her to the top of the cavern and then drop her. At least she hadn’t heard a gun go off. Michael was safe.

  But he didn’t drop her, and in fact, his grip on her was secure and felt as if it had no plans to lessen any time soon. She couldn’t tell where they were going and wondered how the hell Hook could. Maybe he’d spent more time in Skull Rock than she had. Maybe he and his pirates were very familiar with it. . . . Perhaps his treasure was buried here.

  Hadn’t she written something like that once?

  Her thoughts were as scattered as the rain and sea on the wind. She closed her eyes and waited for things to change. For something to give.

  And then it did. The tips of her shoes scraped against stone once more and Wendy opened her eyes. They were outside. The sky was lighter here and the storm had indeed let up. The clouds swirled slowly overhead, deep charcoal in color. The wind whipped through her hair, but not as violently as it had in the cave.

  Hook waited until she had her footing firmly beneath her, and then he let her go and turned away from her. Wendy stared warily at his back, unsure of what to even think, much less do in this situation.

  He walked a few paces away, the wind rippling through his thick black overcoat and the lace cuff that framed the silver hook on the end of his arm. Wendy’s gaze fell on that hook and she thought of all that it represented.

  On impulse, she took a step forward. “Hook, it wasn’t my fault, I swear it. I – ”

  But Hook spun around, blue eyes flashing, and strode forward with determined speed. “Do – not – speak!” he hissed at her, closing the distance between them and raising his left hand so that his knuckles threatened her cheek. Wendy flinched and turned her face away, falling quiet.

  When he did not strike her, she looked back up at him. A stillness had come over him. His blue eyes searched hers, the expression on his face at once unreadable. “I had hoped that you would be the answer,” he whispered then, with a slight shake of his head. “A way out of. . . .” he faltered, swallowing hard. Then he waved his hook at the swirling eye of the storm and the troubled, dark sea and all of Neverland beyond. “All of this.”

  Wendy didn’t understand. She shook her head, frowning. “What. . . what do you mean?” she asked.

  “You’re the reason the sun rose in Neverland, Wendy. You were the ‘X’ that marked the spot.” Hook gently raised his hand again, this time to caress her cheek with the backs of his fingers. Wendy didn’t flinch at the contact. In fact, he felt warm. He felt. . . good. She almost closed her eyes.

  She wanted to grasp his hand and hold him closer. Despite everything – despite the gun he’d held to her brother’s head – she wanted to embrace him. How could that be?

  She felt her pulse speed up. Her fingers and toes tingled. Her breathing quickened.

  “The treasure,” Hook whispered then. Wendy’s world came to a standstill as she drowned in his blue gaze. She knew he was drawing nearer, and could do nothing to stop him. She didn’t want to stop him.

  My God, she thought. I don’t want to stop him.

  I want. . . . Her lips parted as his left hand gently cupped her chin, and Wendy’s heart fluttered, heat flooding her body. She no longer noticed the storm. She could no longer form any coherent thought at all. All she knew, all she was aware of, was the pirate captain James Hook, and his indomitable closeness.

  But just before his lips would have brushed hers, he stopped. And his grip on her chin tightened the slightest bit. “You ran from me,” he whispered. Something dark flickered in his eyes, hardening them like ice. “Why?” he asked, a desperation lacing his voice. “Why must I always play this role?” He looked away from her then, though he did not move. His expression became troubled and distant, despite his retained closeness to her. “Always the villain.”

  “I didn’t leave you, Hook,” Wendy told him. She raised her hand to cup the side of his face. He flinched at the touch, but his eyes instantly softened once more. She could see that he was holding his breath. “I didn’t run from you,” she repeated, shaking her head. “It was Peter. I was –”

  Hook’s gaze instantly narrowed, freezing at once into a cold, cruel visage. He pulled away from her, leaving her feeling strangely bereft.

  “Pan,” he hissed.

  Lightning crashed somewhere near by. Wendy glanced up. The storm was returning.

  “Of course it was him. It’s always about him,” Hook growled. “This entire bloody world is for Peter Pan.” He spat Peter’s name as if it left a bad taste on his tongue.

  “No!” Wendy yelled. “You don’t understand!” She stepped toward him, determined to make him listen to her. “I know what Peter did to you!” She peered up at him through the tears that were suddenly gathering in her eyes. She willed him to listen, to believe. “I know the truth! I know the truth about this!” With a rush, she lunged forward, grabbing the
hook on his right hand with both of her slippery, wet fists. “I know what he did!” she cried, screaming now in order to be heard, not only above the returning, building roar of the wind and the rain and the crashing waves below, but by him and his stubborn hatred.

  Hook gazed at her through wide eyes and tried to pull away. But she held him fast.

  “I know what happened that night!” she continued. “He took your hand out of nothing more than – than – ” She searched for the right words. “Childish, vindictive spite!” she screamed. “And if I were you, Captain James Hook,” she cried, desperation wracking the words from her mouth through sobs of anguished pain. “I would probably hate him too!”

  Hook froze in Wendy’s grip, his tall form going solid and still. But his breaths were quick and his brow was furrowed with emotion as he hissed, through clenched teeth. “I can’t be in love with you, Wendy Darling.” He half-whispered, half-screamed. “I can’t love you and be who I am!”

  Wendy’s breath hitched in her throat. Her vision tunneled slightly. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  And, at the same time, it was the only thing she was sure of in that moment. In the maelstrom that Neverland had become, Hook was a port in a storm. And he’d just told her that he loved her.

  “Then don’t,” Wendy whispered, no longer in control of the words she uttered.

  “Just. . . . “ Her gaze skirted to his lips and back again. She felt suddenly at a loss.

  Hook, for his part, needed no further hint, no more urging. Time had been champion for too long. A thousand years of misery and hopelessness backed him from behind as he used his hook and the leverage of her grip to yank her forward, into his embrace.

  His kiss seared the cold from her body – or, at least, she expected it would have.

  If he had ever kissed her.

  Instead, Wendy’s hair was yanked hard, jerking her head back and pulling her harshly from Hook’s grasp. She cried out at the pain and turned to see Tinkerbell making horribly rude gestures at the pirate captain.