The Neverland Trilogy Box Set

by Isadora Brown

  James gave her a pointed look as he slipped his mark into the book he had been reading before closing it, setting it on the small, round table sitting adjacent to the couch he was lounging in, and standing up. He towered over Magdalena, who could not be more than five foot two, five foot three at the absolute most.

  “Your veiled attempt at criticizing corsets is duly noted,” he said in his usual cold, unemotional voice. “Trust me Magdalena. WE deal with Captain Pan for a very specific reason. And we deal with him now more than ever because of another, though more important, reason. We need him, whether our pride allows us to admit it or not.”

  “We need no one,” Magdalena muttered in a voice that was easily discernable to the ruler of The Other World like he normally did when Magdalena felt the need to rant about something or other kept his mouth shut.

  James proceeded to walk out of his grand library and into the long hallway. Magdalena was right behind him, following his footsteps until they reached the parlor, where any of James’s guests were housed. Rarely did he ever have guests so the room itself looked to be brand new rather than used. There was a stiffness about it, despite the comfortable chairs, the welcoming layout. Even when James opted to play one of the many grand pianos littered throughout his home that was placed in the parlor, the coldness remained. However, James rarely went out of his way to make anyone feel comfortable or welcome, so his own piano playing was something he did solely for himself.

  “Captain,” Aleksamder greeted in English once he walked into the parlor.

  Captain Pan stood up after setting down his teacup. “I’m glad you are here, James,” he said, apparently not noticing the flash of ice mirrored in James’s eyes at the informal use of his first name by someone undeserving. “The tea you serve is dreadful.”

  “So I’ve heard.” James took his usual chair – rich in solid blue fabric with a high back and dark wood arm rests – which was shaped like a throne a king might sit in. “Do you have any idea as to why I might have called you in today?”

  James’s eyes focused on the man in front of him. He noticed Captain Pan dressed up for this visit, though it was quite common for the captain to dabble in finery despite his low position. Today, he wore a royal purple – the color of royalty – each piece of clothing ironed and pressed so it looked perfect. Obviously the outfit was custom; James did not know many men outside of the royals who would wear such a bawdy color. Captain Isaac’s brown hair was slicked back and his blue eyes looked sharp and determined. After James asked his question, he caught the captain rubbing his lips together before answering causing James’s own lips to twitch.

  So the man knew why he was here.

  He exchanged a look with Magdalena, who was sitting in her usual seat to the left of his own. Her legs were tucked underneath her chair, crossed at the ankles, and her hands were folded in her lap. Her back was straight, her chin was tilted up; she looked like royalty, much more than Captain Pan did, and Magdalena was not even wearing purple.

  “Of course,” Pan said with a curt nod of his head.

  “Then you should know that I am quite displeased at the rumors I’m hearing surrounding your escapades,” James said. His voice grew colder as his eyes narrowed at the man in front of him. “The souls you have promised to get me have been lacking in numbers. Imagine my surprise when I hear that you’ve been killing them. Not just gathering them together and releasing them to The Underworld, but killing them, allowing their souls to be lost forever.”

  “That is just not” –

  “True?” James continued to stare at the man, his face passive but his eyes piercing. “It would not bode well for you to lie to me, Captain Pan. The power has gotten to your head. Perhaps I should just consult with the Magistrate and let her know what you’ve been up to.”

  “Under your orders!” Peter shouted, his brow furrowed and his hands dropping to his side where his cutlass was resting.

  Immediately, Magdalena shot up and stood in front of James, her own weapon drawn and pointed at the rapidly beating pulse in Captain Isaac’s neck.

  “Now, now,” James said, standing up. He slowly walked around them and placed an arm on Magdalena shoulder, gently pushing her backwards before positioning himself in the middle of the two of them. His back was to her so he could look at Peter.

  “Sit down,” he ordered in the same controlled tone. “Now.”

  Peter had no choice but to do as James bid, sliding his weapon into its scabbard as he did so.

  “Magdalena is the fastest person I have ever encountered with a blade,” James explained. “You will not beat her. And if you want to live, you will never threaten me in my own home, in my own world, again. Do you understand?” When Peter nodded, James continued. “Good.” He glanced back at Magdalena and gave her a small nod. She, too, sheathed her weapon and took a seat. “Now, Captain, here’s what’s going to happen: I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen. You are not going to question me or argue with me. You’re going to agree with me. I promise you it will be worth your while to hear me out.”

  Peter looked as though he was about to respond, but he seemed to think better of it after seeing the look currently occupying James’s face. Instead, Peter gritted his teeth, causing a dimple to pop in his cheek, and nod.

  “Good.” James, in one fluid motion, took a seat but his eyes never left Peter. “Things have changed since our first agreement. Obviously, you’ve taken your power to your advantage, and for whatever reason, see fit to destroy any prospect the souls down here have, leaving, I believe, one survivor to tell their story and build yourself a reputation.” James’s eyes flashed once more. “That’s going to stop.”

  Peter dropped his mouth, prepared to argue, but again, something stopped him back.

  When James was certain Peter wasn’t going to say anything, he continued. “I’m sure you get some sort of thrill playing God, so to speak, but that was never part of our deal. You get me souls, I give you free reign on the Seas. You get protection. And you get benefits. Like the money you spent on that ridiculous outfit you are currently wearing. I know the Magistrate doesn’t pay well, if at all, does she?” Peter did not answer. “That’s what I expected. Which means it would behoove you to listen and then agree to my new terms.

  “As I have stated, things have changed. For now, your collection of souls for me shall cease. Instead, I want you to get me a girl. She is in The Underworld and it should not be that difficult to find her.”

  “You want me,” Peter began slowly, as if testing out whether or not James would allow him to speak. When James made no move to stop him, Peter went on. “To get you a girl.” He paused. “You realize how many girls are down here, yes? What if I bring you the wrong one?”

  “That is impossible,” James said with certainty. He leaned forward, his eyes still locked with Peter’s. “You cannot mistake this girl. You will know she is the one I’m looking for because she’s vivacious, lively. There’s something about her, something unexplainable yet alluring. She’s different than any other girl you’ve encountered down here, and I want her.”

  “I did not know rulers could fall in love,” Peter stated, more to himself than to his hosts.

  “Love?” Magdalena asked in disbelief.

  “I do not love her,” James said, though his tone wasn’t chastising. “I am merely stating the facts, as you will soon see once you find her.”

  “Do you have any idea where she could be?” Peter asked. “You cannot possibly expect me to sail out of The Underworld and then search for her.”

  “Of course not,” James said. “Your intelligence is not that capable.” His lips twitched. “Here is where you will want to pay close attention, Captain Pan. Here is where you will benefit. The girl – her name is Remy Cutler – is on a ship with none other than the Transporter, a Captain Nicholas Grey. You’ve heard of him, I’m sure?” When Peter’s eyes darkened at the name, James’s lips curled up into one of his rare smiles. “I thought so. The minute you giv
e me Miss Cutler, you are free to do whatever you wish to the good captain. I’d prefer it if you transported his crew to The Underworld since in recent times, you seem to have forgotten our deal, but my first priority – as is yours – is delivering Remy Cutler to me.”

  “You have an accord,” Peter said, standing and sticking out his hand.

  “Good,” James said, sliding up and taking Peter’s hand in his own. He added a little unnecessary pressure in the shake so Peter understood just how serious he was. “You will bring her to me unharmed, Captain. If she is harmed, if even the smallest lock of her hair is out of place, you will face dire consequences, do you understand?”

  Peter winced but nodded.

  “Good.” James released Peter’s hand and waved him away. “Now go. I want Miss Cutler here as soon as possible.”

  Peter turned and left with the little dignity he had left.

  Magdalena stood. “Do you think he will do as you command?” she asked him in Old Norse.

  “If he knows what’s good for him, he will,” James replied.

  Eighteen

  From the minute Remy stepped onto Port Haven, she immediately took to it, like a child took to candy. It was familiar to her, welcoming her with open arms and delighting her in the fact that it resembled her home almost down to a tee. There was the bustling dock, with sailors getting ready to set sail or sailors preparing to anchor, giving just arrived. Once they had tied the two rowboats the Black Star’s crew used to get to the island to wooden posts, they climbed onto the wooden platform where an old man, probably a former sailor if Remy had to guess, were ready to jot a name down and take payment. But his eyes widened at seeing Captain Grey and even more so when he noticed Lieutenant Giles Watson with him.

  “It’s all right, Bradley,” Giles said. “We’re going to talk to Governor Comrie.”

  Nick placed a handful of gold coins on the clipboard Bradley held. “That should be adequate payment, yes?” Nick asked, though Remy could tell from his tone that the pirate did not expect an answer.

  The crew followed Lieutenant Watson as he led them through the dock and then to town. Remy’s eyes tried to take in everything she could, but she knew such a feat was impossible with how quickly they were rushing.

  “Do you think we will have time to explore Port Haven later on?” she asked Nick in a whisper.

  He looked surprised at her question, and patted her back in a reassuring manner. “I don’t think so, darling,” he said in a soft voice. “Just because we have a parchment saying that we have immunity right now doesn’t mean we’re welcome here.”

  “Oh.” She did not mean to sound so disappointed but she could not help. The first place that reminded her of home, that she felt comfortable at, and she could not look more into it.

  Remy could not finding similarities between her home and Port Haven. There was a bleak but strong fort that protected the town from any attacks someone might inflict on them. There were bustling docks, a town filled with people simply trying to make enough money to support themselves and whatever family was also awaiting to move on from this world to their final destination. The only difference between the two places, Remy noticed, was that Port Royal was filled with rolling hills – her house had been built on one, as had the governor’s – while Port Haven looked flat. No hills. Remy was not sure how she felt about the difference; back home, she had barely even noticed them but now, despite their lack of presence, they were all she noticed.

  She missed them. And she should have appreciated them more when she had had the chance.

  Lieutenant Watson led them through the town. Remy made sure to take in all that she was able. The townspeople were preparing for the evening, which meant shopkeepers were closing up their respective stores while vendors were setting up their designated area to sell things more suited to a night crowd, whether that was fortune-telling, certain charms and potions, trinkets (both cursed and uncursed), jewelry which was most likely stolen, and even women. Remy did not feel at all threatened by these people. Whether that was because she was with both a lieutenant and a pirate, she could not say. But it also had to do with this island’s close resemblance to Port Royal. If she merely closed her eyes, the sounds she found herself immersed in – the shouts of the salesmen hoping to make quick money, the drunken giggling, the swishing of women’s skirts, the animal noises, the tinkling of coins – she could pretend she was back home, sneaking out of the house in order to explore Port Royal at night without an escort save for Charlie of course. It was something she had only done once, and only very quickly.

  Another thing that was abundant here and not in Port Royal was the blatant staring the townspeople did when they noticed Remy. She knew she was different, she was alive, but that knowledge did not make it any more comfortable for the young girl. Without fully realizing what she was doing, Remy felt herself walk a bit closer to Nick, hoping no one would think twice about trying to reach her once they saw him with her. He was supposed to be an infamous pirate here, after all.

  “You miss your home.” It was a statement rather than a question.

  Remy picked her eyes up and fixed them on the pirate captain. “You do not?” she inquired. “You are not dead yet which means that you were plucked from your own home on earth and thrust with the grand responsibility of transporting souls. Certainly you miss your own home, back on earth.”

  Nick nodded. “Yes.” He paused, his eyes straight ahead of him. They had just passed through town and were now heading through what would otherwise provide good scenery if the sun was still out. “But I am now used to this world, and if I were to return to earth, I would miss The Underworld.”

  “How did you get here anyways?” Remy had dropped her voice even though she and Nick were the last two people in their group. She highly doubted Lieutenant Watson would be able to hear their conversation if they spoke normally. However, she wanted to ensure secrecy in case it was a story Nick did not want known among his crew or the lieutenant. “Were you plucked from obscurity and forced down here too?”

  “If I remember correctly, I saved your life,” Nick pointed out, but he was smiling. “As for my own story, it was not quite as black and white as your own.”

  Remy said nothing, but turned her head to face Nick and raised her eyebrows expectantly.

  Nick’s lips scattered across his face, pressed tightly together, as his brown eyes narrowed ahead of him and his brow pushed together. He did not look angry, but he looked as though he was wincing against something. “It’s hard to explain, really,” he began, his voice hesitant. “But since you seem so keen on knowing, I’ll tell you. I’m from London originally, but like most lads, I wanted to explore the colonies and long story short, I also happened to have been a pirate on earth before coming here.”

  “That does not surprise me,” Remy murmured. “But if that is true, why have I not heard of you?”

  “Well, for one, I don’t see you going out of your way to catch up on the latest pirate news. And considering I’ve been down here nearly a century, you probably wouldn’t have been born when I was gallivanting around the Caribbean.”

  “I am seventeen, you know,” Remy said with a flare to her tone. “Ten years here is one on earth, yes? That would have made me about seven years of age when you disappeared. Which makes you… old.”

  “Hey now,” Nick said with a frown. “Once you’re here, you stop aging. It’s like time has stopped. Yes, I’ve celebrated nearly one hundred birthdays, but I don’t look a day over one-and-twenty, hmm?”

  “Maybe five-and-twenty,” Remy teased.

  Nick gave her a dry look. “Anyways, as I was saying… Since I was pirate – a well-known one at that too, by the way, ask anyone – I was quite familiar with Tortuga. Best rum on earth though I do prefer the Albatross. Best rum and food. And of course the selection of women to spend the” –

  “All right,” Remy interrupted. “Go on. With your story, not your preferences, thank you very much.”

  A smirk
tugged at Nick’s lip. “Right. Well, as a pirate and a charming, lovable gentleman pirate at that, I was – still am – quite familiar with women. However, because I happened to be so familiar with so many, some women weren’t that fond of me, you see. I happened to know one – a gypsy, though she didn’t greatly resemble a gypsy – and she wasn’t too agreeable with my choice in lifestyle. She told me that my disregard to women’s feelings was deplorable, and if I wasn’t careful, I’d have to pay some sort of repentance for my behavior. Of course I laughed her off. Me and the gypsy woman had never even been familiar in the horizontal way, if you catch my drift; what did she know about me?”

  Nick paused in order to catch his breath and Remy took the moment to look around. Tiny little cottages and homes were scattered on either side of the small dirt path they were on, surrounded by greenery and tall, shade-providing trees. Most of the chimneys were releasing smoke, and every window showed lights. Children that had been playing in the dirt were called inside for supper by parents.

  Remy had never played outside except when she snuck out to see Charlie. And her parents had never fetched her either. It was always been Beatrice.

  Beatrice… She had not thought about her maidservant. How selfish. And Remy found that like her home and Charlie and even her parents, she missed Beatrice and all her good-natured lectures.

  “Well, apparently she knew a lot.” Nick’s voice was flat but there was still that slight hesitancy in it, like he was ashamed not of being so familiar with women but at not taking this elusive gypsy woman seriously. “Not about me, mind you, but about curses and other gypsy-type things.” He waved his hands around as though he were a witch and casting a spell. “I remember eating, sitting at the Jolly Roger – a tavern on Tortuga, I highly recommend it, actually – and I was eating. To this day I can’t remember just what I was eating, but I’m certain I was eating. And then I wasn’t. I was here, in The Underworld, on my ship, the Black Star – I hadn’t named her yet though – by myself. And then she came. The same gypsy woman and told me I would learn responsibility and compassion and empathy and all sorts of emotions I already knew, I just didn’t particularly experience. She taught me what to do and said I needed to form a small crew because I couldn’t manage the ship by myself. It came naturally, as many things do for me, and I’ve been doing this ever since.” He glanced at Remy. “What? Why are you making that face? You don’t believe me?”