The Untold Stories of Neverland: The Complete Box Set

by K. R. Thompson

  The Untold Stories of Neverland

  The Complete Box Set

  K.R. Thompson

  Contents

  Copyright

  Neverland

  Pan

  1. The Chosen One

  2. The Crocodile

  3. The Magic of Pixies

  4. My Lost Ones

  5. Bedtime Stories

  6. I am Pan

  Hook

  1. Bad Form, Indeed

  2. Shanghaied

  3. We Shall Have Tea

  4. So Now Ye Are a Pirate

  5. The First Rule

  6. What’s in an Island?

  7. A Bit of Fairy Dust

  8. Enchanted Waters

  9. The Challenge

  10. The Pirate Code

  11. All Good Things

  12. Second Star to the Left

  13. Mermaids and Neverlings

  14. We Be Pirates

  15. Unlikely Allies

  16. A-Hunting We Will Go

  17. A Familiar Star

  18. The Pan

  19. The Map

  20. End Game

  Nerida

  1. A Means of Escape

  2. A New Sea

  3. Fallen Kings

  4. The Pirate

  5. Human You Shall Be

  6. Banished

  7. Discovery

  8. The Sea Witch

  9. Cursed

  10. Revelation

  11. The Croc and I

  12. Hidden Secrets

  Jack

  1. Lost Memories

  2. A Visit with The Hook

  3. A New Mother

  4. What was Lost is now Found

  5. Time to Go

  6. The Curse

  7. I will Tell You a Secret

  8. Wendy Darling, if You Please

  9. A Game of Sorts

  10. Broken

  11. Home

  12. A Special Kind of Magic

  More Stories by K.R. Thompson

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2016 K.R. Thompson

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without written permission of the publisher. Inquiries can be made to Magic Quill Press, PO Box 614, Montcalm, WV 24757.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical or ethnic events/traditions, locales, real people, living or dead, are used fictitiously and are a product of the author’s imagination.

  “…when the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies.”

  —J.M. Barrie, Peter and Wendy

  1

  The Chosen One

  THE TINY PIXIE flew over the dark rooftops to the crumbling tower in the center of the town. Zipping to the top, she chose her usual spot and greeted the gargoyle perched on the edge of the roof. Taking one final look to make sure she had the best view, she plopped down on the tip of the monster’s nose and settled in to watch the boy fly from house to house.

  Back and forth, from one window to the next he flew, staying at each only long enough to peer through the panes of glass…searching…

  At least he was taking his task seriously, she decided, watching him raise up on his toes in an effort to gain a better look inside one darkened, upstairs room. Some guardians were lazy, but this one was not, which was just as well, she noted, as the small, shadowy figure of a child exited through the window and joined him. A few seconds later, the two flew off into the night sky. The children of humans could be a handful—the ghosts of them even more so, especially when they realized they were no longer among the living. It only made sense to appoint another child to deal with their sorrow and accompany their spirits to the other side.

  The source of her attention currently gone, the pixie idly kicked into the open air. Small bits of dust sprinkled each time her feet touched the open mouth of the monster she’d been making a seat of. She glanced down, noticing his bottom teeth now sparkled like gold in the moonlight, giving him an even more ferocious look.

  The poor thing looked dreadful, with long curling teeth and bulging eyes—nothing at all like her own pretty, golden self. She gave him a bright smile. Likely, that was the only kindness ever given the monster forever stuck up here on the edge of this roof, so she reached down and gave his hard cheek an affectionate pat before turning her attention back to the sprawling town below. After all, she hadn’t come to save this monster. She’d come for the boy and soon he would need her—but not nearly as much as she needed him.

  He shouldn’t be gone much longer. She’d watched him for several nights now and one thing she discovered was his trips to the Underworld were generally short, albeit frequent. He’d be back soon and the search for the next soul would start anew.

  True to form, only a few moments passed, and she caught sight of him before he dodged into a dark alley. A few seconds passed, and the boy appeared, alone. He turned around once, making certain there were no other souls to collect, then he zipped upward into the sky and flew off.

  The pixie sighed, and gave a final farewell pat to the monster and hopped up to follow the boy. She stopped, realizing she wouldn’t ever come here again. Tonight was the last time she planned to watch the boy. The monster would be all alone after she left him, forever perched on this roof.

  She bent and gave him a quick kiss on the end of his nose, then straightened and looked him squarely in the face. He gave her the same wide, leering grimace as before, his teeth bared in an unhappy snarl. Her show of affection hadn’t touched him in the least. She placed her hands on her hips, and made a face of her own, sticking her tongue out at him before she flew off after the boy.

  There wasn’t any sign of him, but she wasn’t worried. Every night, she’d followed him to the exact same place. Her heart grew sad, knowing what she would find once she caught up to him. At the edge of town, far beyond the lights, sat an old house with a sagging roof and big, dirty windows.

  She found him there on an upstairs balcony, curled into a small ball, crying as if his heart had been broken into tiny bits. She didn’t know why he always chose this same place every night, but she thought maybe it had something to do with his life before he became a guardian.

  She landed on the thin, black metal railing directly in front of him, but he didn’t notice her. She took a deep breath, smiled as wide as her face could stretch and spoke.

  “Why do you cry?” Her voice didn’t sound like that of the humans and immediately she felt a blush creep into her cheeks. Her voice chimed in musical-tones. It was the way every pixie in Neverland spoke. What if he didn’t understand her?

  At the sound of her voice, he stopped crying and uncurled just enough that she made out the shapes of two mossy green eyes looking out at her through a thick thatch of brown hair. He sniffled, sat up and ran the back of his hand over his eyes, wiping away the last traces of his distress.

  “Who are you?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

  “I am a tinker pixie. I’m from Neverland.” And I was the only one brave enough to try to find someone to save us, she added silently.

  “I didn’t ask what you are. I asked who you are,” the boy clarified, crossing his arms over his chest as he scowled. “Don’t you have a name?”

  Well, at least he understood her. Still, he didn’t need to be rude. The pixie echoed his gesture and crossed her arms before matching his scowl with a fierce one of her own. “I’m a t
inker pixie. Who are you?”

  Her cross expression seemed to amuse him. “My name is Peter.” His grin faltered. “I cry because I want to still be a boy, not a guardian. I miss my life and I miss my home.” He turned and looked at the glass door behind him. “I can’t go back inside and look at my family. I don’t even know if they’ve missed me.”

  The fairy flew to the door and peered inside. She wasn’t an expert on human habits, but it looked dark and vacant in there. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling like a thick blanket. She shivered, thinking of the big spiders that must have made them. Surely no one would choose to live in such a place.

  Nevertheless, the boy reached for the knob on the door as if he wished to go inside, regardless of the creepy things bound to be there, but instead of clasping the knob, his fingers passed through the wooden knob as if he was as much a ghost as the children whose spirits he was sworn to protect. His bottom lip quivered and tears filled his eyes again. The pixie found herself sympathizing with him and two big tears rolled down her cheeks. This would never do.

  “You could come with me to Neverland,” she offered. There. I’ve said it. No need in hedging around what she wanted, though she left out the important parts of why she wished him to accompany her.

  “Could I be a boy again in Neverland? Could I have my family back?” he asked, a bit of hope etched in his voice.

  “I don’t know if you’d be a boy again,” she admitted. “There are only pixies in Neverland, you see. And as for family, I don’t know about such things. But we shall have each other and I promise to never leave you. You won’t be lonely ever again.” She knew she sounded hopeful. She wanted more than anything for this boy to come with her—to believe in her—for there had been one small detail she’d left out. The pixies in Neverland were dying, and without someone to believe in them, Neverland would soon cease to exist.

  None of the pixies wanted to come back to the human star to find someone to believe in them, so she’d come alone, hoping to find the perfect one to save them.

  And she had. She was sure of it.

  Just being with him here and now made her feel more alive than she ever had before. Magic can only exist when someone believes, she thought, carefully watching his face for any sign that he would come with her.

  Peter looked thoughtful, then a decision flickered in his eyes and he smiled. “Let’s be off to Neverland, then. Show me the way, Tink.”

  Happiness surged through the pixie. Not only had he agreed to come with her, but he’d given her a name. None of the pixies in Neverland had names. Only water sprites were lucky enough to have such things. She was special.

  She pointed to the twinkling stars above them. “That’s where we are going. Second star to the right and straight on ’til morning.”

  PETER CHANGED WHEN they arrived in Neverland. Before, he’d looked much like the children he accompanied to the Underworld. Now that they were here, the translucent look left his skin and a bright sparkle appeared in his eyes. He was just ahead of her as they flew low over a white-sanded beach. Curious if he was as real as he seemed, she reached out with her finger and touched the soft skin on the bottom of his foot.

  The act caught him off guard and he jerked, falling from the air to the ground in an unceremonious heap.

  “I’m sorry,” she chimed, once he straightened himself out and sat up. “I wanted to see if you were real.”

  “Am I?” he asked. “Am I real?”

  She shrugged. She didn’t know. She hadn’t gotten a very good feel of his foot before he tumbled into a crumpled mess. The matter of being real must be an important thing, because he stood and reached toward her, his palm out. “Please, let’s see if I’ve changed.”

  He looked so hopeful that she found herself wishing for him. “Be real…be real…” she whispered as she gently lowered herself onto his palm. When it didn’t seem she was going to pass through it, she stilled her wings and settled her entire weight onto him. “Welcome to Neverland, Peter,” she announced before dipping into a low curtsy.

  “Whoo-hoo!” he yelled, jumping happily in the air. His sudden movement caught her off guard and she fell backward, splayed between his fingers, gold dust rising in puffs around her. She managed to stand and was brushing herself off when he jumped again, sending her flying between his fingertips. Grasping his pinkie for support, she stood up a second time, and scowled at him. She knew he was happy, but that didn’t give him any reason to harm her. He didn’t seem to notice her, so she flew off his hand and hovered near his head while he kept jumping up and down.

  Up and down, up and down…whatever is the matter with him? she wondered. The happy look left his face after the first few launches into the air, and now was replaced by one of desperation as he continued his strange leaping. Did all humans act like frogs? She bit her bottom lip as she thought of the different humans she had watched before deciding Peter would be the one to save them. None of the others acted in such a manner. What if she’d chosen the wrong one and this one was defective? She shook her head, unwilling to let that thought stay there. Maybe this leaping was something the guardians taught him.

  Peter stopped jumping and began to cry. Alarmed, she landed on his shoulder as tears trekked down his cheek. “Why are you crying?” she asked. He didn’t answer, but only cried harder.

  This isn’t good, she thought, her forehead creasing in concern. In an effort to be heard over his sobs, she hurried to his ear and grasped the soft edges of it, yelling as loudly as she could, “What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head, knocking her from his shoulder. A few seconds ago, she would have been livid at such a gesture, but now she was too worried. “I…can’t…fly!” he managed between hiccups.

  Oh dear, she thought, hovering around him, wringing her hands. I didn’t bring him here to be sad. This will never do. She flew back and forth over his head, wondering what she should do next.

  Deciding her best option was attempt to lift his spirits, she dropped directly in front of his face. “But you’re real. You wished to be a boy and that’s what you are. There’s no reason to cry. I promise it will be okay.”

  It took another moment or two, but he finally quieted. He began looking at his hands, as if he wanted to make sure she was telling him the truth.

  “I really am real, aren’t I?” he said, his voice full of wonder. He looked up and gave her a happy grin. She returned his smile. So what if he didn’t fly? None of the other humans she had seen could do it. As long as he was happy, that was all that mattered.

  He’d come to the same conclusion. “I never flew before I was a guardian, so if I don’t fly anymore, I guess that’s okay. Besides, I have you with me now. And you promised you’d never leave me. Didn’t you, Tink?”

  “Yes, I promise. As long as you believe in me, I’ll always be with you.”

  2

  The Crocodile

  “YOU’RE A MEAN thing, with a nasty attitude,” Peter addressed the crocodile below them. In reply, the big, scaly beast pointed his snout upward and snapped his big jaws a few times, giving them a great look at his gaping mouth and sharp teeth, as if he wanted to make sure they knew exactly how terrible a mood he could be in should they push the issue.

  The pixie nodded. He certainly was the most cross inhabitant in Neverland. The pixies and the water sprites, being some of the smallest bits of magic, came to Neverland hoping to be safe. In the human world, everything was bigger than they were and nothing was safe. Once they’d discovered Neverland, the only thing they’d found to fear was this big, green bully who insisted on trying to eat them. A few pixies and sprites had met their end by him in the beginning, but the majority of them had learned his habits and found his favorite places to lurk, then simply avoided him.

  As Peter had been in Neverland for some time now, he knew all about the crocodile’s terrible attitude—but that hadn’t stopped him. Even though he couldn’t fly, the boy had taken to finding ways to taunt the monster. It had started by yelling insults at
the monster while it swam, looking for food, then escalated to throwing rocks at him, and running past him to climb a tree just out of the croc’s reach.

  Which was the reason they were here now, sitting up in a tree, waiting for the monster to get bored and leave so, in turn, they could leave.

  Tink yawned, crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned against a bunch of leaves. This could take a while. Peter had been impulsive and hadn’t chosen the best escape route this time. In the past, he’d always picked trees that grew in a tight clump, so he could jump from one branch to the next, eventually losing the crocodile below.

  The first thing she’d learned about the boy was that he had a constant thirst for adventure. He’d hunted the animals on the island, then when he bored of that challenge, he began capturing the pixies. He hadn’t hurt any of them, but the pixies hadn’t liked his games and now avoided the boy at all costs, regardless of the fact that his presence was what kept them alive. The crocodile was the only one who hadn’t tired of his games, the only one who returned the attention given to him, and was the only one who seemed worthy of the adventure Peter sought.

  The boy took another look at the crocodile, who had no intention of moving, then shrugged and propped himself against the trunk of the tree.

  The sun moved behind the mountains and the sky came alive with streaks of silver stars. Tink closed her eyes. They would have to wait until morning. When the crocodile left to find his breakfast, they’d be able to make an escape.

  Peter began humming. It was a soft, lilting sound, which should have brought sleep. Instead, the pixie opened up her eyes and waited. Every once in a while, the boy would miss his home and the family he had lost, and when that happened, the humming would start. Nighttime brought memories. When the stars sparkled above them, the boy became melancholy.