The Pirate Code

by Heidi Schulz

  Peter smiled. “I certainly did! Anyone who says I didn’t is a liar.”

  “Right. So where is the Jolly Roger now?” she asked.

  “I told you, I didn’t take it. And it should be right where I left it.”

  Jocelyn felt a headache coming on. “Which is where, exactly?”

  Peter scratched his head. “Let me think.…Oh yes! In the middle of Notgonna.”

  “Notgonna?” she asked, reaching for Roger’s map.

  “Yeah. Not gonna tell you!” Pan laughed so hard he nearly choked. “Come on, boys, let’s go give our mother her new puppy.”

  Peter picked up the wolf pup and, without a backward glance, walked away, the lost boys trailing in his wake. Tully brought up the rear. He opened and closed his hand in a babylike wave, bidding Jocelyn a sweet farewell.

  She ground her teeth and muttered a few of the new words she’d learned.

  The idea came to Jocelyn as she flew back to her ship. She didn’t even mind crediting Peter with it. Much. His stealing of the wolf pup had inspired it, after all. She gathered her crew around her and laid out the plan.

  “Kidnap Peter’s mother?” Smee asked, an excited gleam in his eye. “Now we are talking, miss! I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but I believe your father would have done the same himself.”

  Dirty Bob cleared his throat. “I hate to talk out of turn—”

  “Then don’t, ye dirty rapscallion.” Smee fairly growled at the man, but I for one won’t hold it against him. “This doesn’t concern you! Does it, Johnny Corkscrew?” He unsheathed his sword, appealing to it. It seemed to agree.

  Jocelyn placed a hand on Smee’s arm, coaxing him to lower his weapon. “Put your blade away and let Bob speak.”

  Bob took his time, lighting a fresh pair of cigars before making his point. “I don’t agree with Mr. Smee here. I knew Jim Hook, we was close as brothers for years, and kidnapping little girls wasn’t something he’d have been interested in doing, not unless there was gold involved.”

  “Gold is involved,” Jocelyn said.

  Dirty Bob raised an eyebrow. “So we’ll ransom the lass? If that’s your big plan, I’m afraid it won’t work. I doubt that Pan boy has two coins to rub together.”

  Jocelyn placed her hands behind her back and began to pace on the deck. She was determined not to let Bob’s attitude get under her skin. “You are likely right about Pan,” she said. “But we’ll be ransoming her for information, not gold. Information that may help us break the code on the treasure map.” Jocelyn still didn’t trust her men to be responsible with all the details, but she felt this explanation should be enough.

  Bob took a long draw on his cigars and slowly blew out the foul-smelling smoke. “Gold or no, I can’t see Jim, or any respectable pirate, mind you, playing nursemaid to a girl—present company excluded, Cap’n. If you want gold, we can go take it. There are merchant ships out there, just ripe for the picking.”

  Jocelyn stopped pacing and turned to face him. “I said no to that before and I’ve not changed my mind.”

  Bob glared at the deck. “Yes, Cap’n.” He hurled the title like an insult. “Even so, I don’t think we should do it.”

  “Neither do I,” Roger spoke up from behind her.

  Jocelyn whirled around in surprise. “Roger! You know how important this is.”

  He shrugged. “I know. But I think there may be a better way. If you were to speak to her, maybe we could get her to come with us on her own. Kidnapping doesn’t seem fair.”

  “Lots of things are unfair, Roger. I can’t risk her saying no and telling Peter my plans. I want my father’s treasure. I won’t let anything stand in my way.” She gave him time to agree, but when he didn’t, she plunged on. “We will attack Peter’s camp before nightfall.”

  Jocelyn sent Meriwether ahead as scout. He was not gone long, swiftly bringing news that Peter and the lost boys were showing their new mother the tiny ruins of an ancient fairy race. The ruins were scattered along the edge of a long, flat meadow surrounded with short, grassy hills—a prime place for an ambush.

  Jocelyn and her crew followed Meriwether to where he had spied the enemy. She commanded they crawl the last hundred yards to the crest of a hill, in order to look down upon their target and get a lay of the land.

  “Oh dear,” Mr. Smee whispered. “Looks like we’ll have to wait our turn.”

  Jocelyn felt oddly left out to discover that Peter and the lost boys were about to begin a battle, but not with her. The boys, with the exception of Peter, stood in a line, attired in armor made of sap and tree bark. Their purpose seemed chiefly to defend their mother. Jocelyn pulled her spyglass from its pouch at her waist and brought it to her eye for a closer look at the girl. She looked to be a bit older than Jocelyn, with light brown hair and a merry yellow dress.

  The boys made a wall of protection in front of her.

  On second thought, wall might be a bit strong. Knowing Pan’s lost boys, I’d wager it was more of a picket fence.

  Either way, though, Jocelyn thought the boys looked resolved to hold it. Even little Tully stood firm, his face arranged in grim determination.

  Peter neither wore the armor nor stood in the line. His purpose seemed chiefly to be annoying. He flew about, crowing in excitement, his actions more closely mimicking the white wolf pup—as it ran around and around the girl’s legs, barking—than any great general.

  Peter’s fairy was a blur of light, a dancing sunbeam bent on mischief. She darted here and there, tweaking the young mother’s ear, tugging at the pup’s tail, and making a general nuisance of herself. Meriwether chimed a few choice insults, something that sounded to Jocelyn like conceited pest. The girl felt much the same way about Peter Pan.

  Jocelyn swung her spyglass to the opposite end of the meadow, getting her first glimpse of the enemy, and gasped at the sight. A small group of warriors had already begun their charge. Their mounts were horselike, but as with so many things on the Neverland, they were more fantastical than any Jocelyn had ever seen, even in her books. Muscles rippled beneath hides that shone as bright as burnished copper. Polished back hooves struck the hard-packed ground, sparking like flint against steel. Steam billowed from their nostrils. Fiery manes and tails streamed out behind—not fiery-colored, mind you, but made of actual flames—though they did not appear to burn the riders upon the animals’ backs.

  Leading the charge was a fierce-looking girl with long black braids. Though the Neverland boasted many groups of people, Jocelyn was certain the girl could be none other than Tiger Lily. A half dozen mounted braves, armed with bows and arrows, war clubs, spears, and rawhide shields, followed her lead.

  Jocelyn returned her gaze to the lost boys. She expected to see them scattering to avoid such a formidable army, but such was not the case. On their side of the meadow, the boys held both their ground and fistfuls of squirming…

  Jocelyn rubbed the lens of her spyglass and looked again. That couldn’t be right.

  She passed it to Roger. “What are the lost boys holding?” she asked.

  “It looks like bunches of…snakes?” He shrugged and passed the spyglass back.

  When the fiery horses got within range, the lost boys loaded their wriggling ammunition into slingshots and fired. The reptiles flew through the air, landing rather harmlessly—and anticlimactically—in the grass. It seemed fairly pointless, until the horses noticed the snakes. Tiger Lily’s was the first to rear, dumping the girl on her, well, her rear. The great steed turned tail and headed for the hills, inspiring its blazing brothers and sisters to follow suit.

  In a blink, the battle had changed. While the warriors had appeared sure to win moments before, now the outcome was uncertain. The boys’ armor protected them some from flying arrows, and now that they were finished with the snakes, each held a knife or sword.

  Jocelyn stood. “We attack now. While the boys are distracted by battle, it will be easy to slip in and kidnap their mother.”

  “But Captain, a
re you sure?” Mr. Smee asked. “Unless we’ve arranged our alliances beforehand, we usually wait our turn. We should come back tomorrow.”

  “We’re taking her now.” Jocelyn ordered Jim McCraig and One-Armed Jack to fetch the cannon from where they had left it at the bottom of the hill. They hauled it up, its wheels tangling in the long grass. Upon Jocelyn’s order, Jim fired, the cannon blast splitting the air and signaling their intent to join the battle. The girl led her men toward the fray, their own swords drawn. Jim McCraig, slower than the rest due to his “wooden leg,” rode the cannon like a wagon down the short slope, his parrot perched atop his head, both screeching in glee. One-Armed Jack followed, waving his new prosthetic—a butterfly net, well suited for capturing things—and whooping with excitement.

  With the arrival of the pirates, Peter’s side was sorely outnumbered. Jocelyn found she didn’t need to slip in and capture his mother after all. As soon as he heard the cannon blast, Peter called for a retreat. And in their excitement, he and the lost boys simply left the older girl behind. Tiger Lily and her braves gave chase, leaving Jocelyn and her pirates alone with Peter’s mother. To her vast disappointment, Jocelyn was able to apprehend the girl with absolutely no trouble at all.

  I pity young Jocelyn. What fun is a kidnapping with no trouble? It’s like tea with no honey! Christmas with no pudding! A tomb with no corpse! A corpse with no jewelry! Hardly worth bothering about, if you ask me.

  Jocelyn approached the captive, whom Nubbins held rather gently by the arm, and, trying to salvage the moment, declared, “You are our prisoner now! You have been shanghaied into service upon the Hook’s Revenge!”

  “Never!” the girl replied. “I’d rather die first!” She giggled, making a smattering of freckles dance across her slightly upturned nose. “This is exciting!”

  The wolf pup clearly agreed. It ran circles around the girl’s feet, yapping with unbridled joy.

  Jocelyn huffed. “It’s not supposed to be exciting! It’s supposed to be terrifying!”

  “Oh. Right. Terrifying! I can be terrified.” She made her dancing eyes go wide. “How’s this? Do I look frightened?”

  Roger snorted. Jocelyn shook her head, a feeling of shame growing inside her. Before she could think of a new, more terror-inducing tactic, Tiger Lily returned with her braves. The little wolf stopped barking, her eyes fixed on her mistress.

  “Come, Snow,” Tiger Lily commanded solemnly. The puppy ran and leaped into her arms. In a blink, the warrior was gone, replaced with a laughing girl. “Stop that, you,” she said as the little wolf endeavored to lick every inch of her face. “I know. I know. I missed you, too!” She hugged the wriggling ball of fur tight before placing her on the ground. The pup stood on her hind legs and did a funny little hopping dance. Tiger Lily laughed, then commanded the wolf to follow as she approached Jocelyn and her crew.

  “I thank you for your help in reclaiming my little Snow. I am Tiger Lily.”

  Jocelyn nodded. “I thought as much. I’m Jocelyn Hook.”

  “You are the daughter of the Captain Hook who once took me captive and attempted to drown me.” It was not a question. “Are you also in the habit of doing such things?”

  “Me? No! I would never!”

  Tiger Lily looked pointedly at Nubbins, still holding the arm of Peter’s mother. “Oh?” she asked, one eyebrow arched.

  Jocelyn found she couldn’t quite look Tiger Lily in the eye. She pretended to be very interested in a patch of grass near her feet. “Right. Well. This is different. We’re not going to drown her—”

  “I’m a good swimmer anyway,” Peter’s mother said, flashing a pair of dimples.

  Jocelyn ignored the girl. “We were simply going to invite her back to our ship and…er…keep her there until Peter tells me where he put the Jolly Roger.”

  “And how do you feel about this?” Tiger Lily asked the girl.

  “I think it sounds like a grand adventure. Who wouldn’t want to be captured by pirates? It’s thrilling! Unless they were planning to drown you, I mean.”

  “As long as you are in agreement, then.” Tiger Lily turned to Jocelyn and continued. “Young Hook, your involvement in this battle was a service to me. I will not free your captive.” Snow barked, prompting a smile from the princess. “I must say, I take some pleasure in Peter Pan losing something important to him—as important as any of his endless parade of mothers may be, that is. Come. Return with us to our village and share our fire tonight. There will be feasting and dancing as we celebrate our victory!”

  On the one hand, Jocelyn was eager to get back to her ship and quickly ransom her prisoner. On the other, she was fascinated by Tiger Lily and the way she made leading her warriors look so easy. And it was close to dinnertime….

  “We would be honored,” she said.

  Her captive seemed to be in complete agreement. “Today has turned out to be absolutely delightful!”

  Jocelyn determined that her first order of business, once they returned to the ship, would be to teach this girl how to be a proper prisoner. This was embarrassing, for both of them.

  Jocelyn and Roger flanked Peter’s mother, following Tiger Lily and her people over grassy plains. The rest of the crew trailed behind, trading war stories. Jocelyn was certain that before dinner’s end, each of her men would be claiming to have been half killed, or more, in the day’s nonbattle. At least they had enjoyed themselves.

  They weren’t the only ones. Their prisoner was still obviously beside herself with glee, chattering on about how exciting it was to be kidnapped by pirates. Jocelyn rolled her eyes, but Roger shrugged and grinned. Turning to the girl, he held out his hand and said, “We haven’t been properly introduced, have we? I’m Roger, navigator of the Hook’s Revenge under Captain Jocelyn Hook.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” the girl replied. She dropped into a brief curtsy, somehow managing to do so while continuing to walk along. “Then you must be Jocelyn. What a lovely name! I’m Evie. You look impressively young to be a pirate captain. How old are you?”

  “Thirteen,” Jocelyn said, with no small amount of pride. “How old are you?”

  “Fifteen,” Evie replied. “Or at least I will be in only ten and a half months.” She stooped to pick a large yellow daisy from a clump of snow and tucked it behind her ear. “Isn’t it lovely here?”

  “It’s all right,” Jocelyn replied, unsure why she felt so irritated with Evie. Was it her unflagging optimism? The way that flower in her hair was a perfect match to the color of her dress? Or the fact that Roger seemed to look at the girl far more than was necessary? Whatever the reason, Jocelyn found herself anxious to be rid of her. Besides, she was eager to find out where the Jolly Roger had been abandoned and get the key to decoding the treasure map.

  “I’m sure Peter will ransom you soon,” she said to the girl, “in case you were wondering.”

  “Oh,” Evie said, “how silly of me. A ransom hadn’t occurred to me. I’m having far too much fun to be concerned about going back to Peter and the boys just yet.”

  Roger was definitely staring. Jocelyn resolved to write a ransom note to Peter and be rid of this girl as soon as she got back to her ship.

  Before long, the party arrived at Tiger Lily’s village. Jocelyn recalled the time when she and Mr. Smee had come looking for the girl, only to find her camp deserted. As the group made their way into the village this time, Jocelyn was delighted to see it bustling and full of life.

  An entire herd of the flaming horses grazed on blackened grass in paddocks at the edge of the village. Their manes and tails crackled, scenting the air with brimstone. Nearby, a group of boys ran alongside a rolling hoop, taking turns trying to throw a spear through it. Tiger Lily paused to call out a few words of encouragement, causing the boys to puff out their chests and double their efforts.

  In the village proper, grandmothers, their long, white braids hanging down their backs, sat in front of brightly painted tipis sewing soft leather into dresses and breeches. They
smiled and waved hello, eyes nearly disappearing in the cheerful wrinkles round them. Though their materials and style of clothing were different from any Jocelyn had ever worn, the sight of women sitting together to gossip and sew was quite familiar. She was not at all tempted to join them—Jocelyn had always preferred sword points to needlepoint—but there was a certain comfort in watching.

  Evie seemed to feel the same. “Look at how fine their stitches are! My headmistress at school would never reprimand my needlework again if I had half their skill.”

  Jocelyn felt her annoyance with the girl softening. It truly wasn’t Evie’s fault that the battle had not happened the way Jocelyn had wished. And any girl who knew the wrath of an irritable sewing mistress might be a kindred spirit, at least a little. “My headmistress liked to give me a rap on the head with her thimble for every crooked stitch. She was a monster.”

  “You can’t be serious!” Evie said. “Mine has the same habit! Do you suppose they all go to some sort of How to Be Horrible to Your Students academy?”

  “If they do,” Roger said, “the one from Jocelyn’s school could make extra money teaching evening classes there.”

  Presently, the group reached the center of the village and Tiger Lily excused herself to change from her rumpled battle clothes. She invited Jocelyn and Evie to wash, if they liked, but Jocelyn felt quite happy the way she was. And, as Evie was a prisoner, Jocelyn declined on her behalf as well, hoping to set a good example for her.

  In order to keep her crew out of trouble, Jocelyn offered to have them assist with preparations for the feast. They were set to work chopping firewood. Village boys, their hoop game now abandoned, arranged the wood in a large fire pit, and within minutes they had a bonfire blazing.

  It is a universal fact that where a fire is present, so must be a boy with a stick. Even I, as a young lad, could not resist its siren call.