The Untold Stories of Neverland: The Complete Box Set

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The Untold Stories of Neverland: The Complete Box Set Page 17

by K. R. Thompson


  Archie sighed. He should have known his crew’s specialty was plunder and theft, not the honest trade of hunting. Had he thought it through beforehand, he would have taken some of the Indian men with them and left more of the crew on board to deal with the mermaid, but now wasn’t the time to second-guess his decision. It was time to sail away from this place.

  “Take up the anchor and loose the sails.”

  THE WATER HAD been clear of ice for the first bit, but soon the sea was full of peril. Sharp peaks of icebergs rose up around them, threatening to destroy the Jolig Roger’s hull should they come too close. For hours, Archie stayed at the helm, guiding the ship. When night came, he managed to steer them back into warmer waters. The island was no longer in sight, and he felt confident they were on their way home. He relinquished his place at the wheel to Beckett, with instructions to keep their heading and went below for some much-needed rest.

  The next thing he knew, daylight was spilling through the round window above his cot and Harper’s excited voice reached his ears through the floorboards, “Land, ho!”

  Fully awake, Archie pulled his clothes on and shoved his feet into his boots, and ran up the steps to the deck. The sun was bright, with not a trace of a cloud in the sky. He put his hand to his brow to shield his eyes, and looked up at Harper in the rigging.

  The lad pointed ahead, where a small patch of vibrant green showed on the horizon.

  “Looks familiar,” Smee grumbled at him, as he came up to the quarterdeck. The old man thrust his spyglass at him and glowered. “Beckett’s brought us back to the same blasted island.”

  “I kept the heading, sure and true,” Beckett answered, crossing his muscled arms over his chest.

  Archie took in Beckett’s bloodshot eyes. It was clear the man had stayed up the entire night and spoke the truth, so Archie stayed silent as he lifted the spyglass and looked out at the island, hoping that Smee was mistaken.

  Unfortunately, he wasn’t. The same shore greeted his eyes, as well as the well-known mermaid’s rock.

  “The heading was kept? You are certain?” He handed the spyglass back and looked in Beckett’s tired eyes.

  “Aye.” The answer was given without hesitation, and said with such a sense of finality that Archie was certain the man hadn’t lied.

  A dark shadow flew across the ship, as if something had blocked out the sun. Looking up, Archie expected to see a stray cloud, what caught his eye instead, was a boy sitting on the beam of the mainmast. He wore a green cap with a long, red feather and a tunic made of green leaves. The boy looked at Archie in a suspicious manner before he said in a curious voice, “Who are you?”

  It took Archie a second to grasp that the boy wasn’t a figment of his imagination, but was truly there. “I am Archibald Jameson, captain of the ship upon which you are sitting. “Who, may I ask, are you?”

  “I,” the boy began, before jumping to his feet to walk along the narrow beam of the mast, “am Peter.” And with those last two words, he did something that amazed Archie. He jumped from the beam and landed before him on the quarterdeck, giving him a neat bow.

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Peter.” Archie returned the bow. “Might I ask how you have managed to find your way upon the mast of my ship and where are you from?”

  “Oh, that’s easy.” The boy grinned, showing a set of small pearly white teeth. “I flew.”

  “You flew?”

  “Mm-hmm,” he said, as if bored, and then gestured in an offhanded sort of way to the island a distance away. “I’m a Neverling, of course.”

  “A Neverling,” Archie repeated, more for the sake of trying to let his brain absorb the reality of the boy in front of him than anything else. “Where are your parents? On the island?”

  The boy’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Parents are grown-ups. There aren’t any grown-ups on Neverland.”

  “None? Why not?”

  “Because when you’re on Neverland, you never grow up.”

  The statement had Archie imagining the island was inhabited by pygmies, though he doubted that was the case. He didn’t get to ask about pygmies or anything else, because someone else’s thoughts interrupted.

  “Poppycock,” Smee grumbled under his breath, “Everyone grows old.” Archie hadn’t heard the old man arrive on the quarterdeck, but he had been rather preoccupied with the arrival of Peter.

  “So, there are no adults on Neverland?” Archie asked, ignoring the glowering old man beside him.

  “No.” Peter looked at him suspiciously. “No grown-ups have ever come to Neverland before. I’m the only one who knows the way. How did you find it?”

  This is going to sound ridiculous, but then again, I am talking to a flying boy, Archie thought. “A pixie showed us the way.”

  “A golden pixie? About this tall?” Peter made a space between his forefinger and thumb.

  “Precisely. She was here until the day we arrived, and then she flew away, looking frightened.”

  “She’ll be punished for showing you the way here.” Peter stomped his foot and set his hands on his hips, looking down at the deck with a frown on his young face. “She probably heard the blue pixies coming for her.”

  Archie felt somewhat guilty about the matter, so he said nothing, and folded his hands in front of him, and watched Peter. The boy must have thought he was waiting for more information, so he continued, “The gold pixies are called Tinkers and there aren’t many of them. They keep the seasons in order on Neverland. The blue ones are called Royals. They are pushy. They tell the others what to do.”

  The scowl that followed led Archie to believe that Peter didn’t think much of the blue pixies. Then, to his surprise, the boy lifted up into the air.

  He truly does fly. Archie hadn’t believed it until now, but there the boy was, flitting about the sails like a bird.

  “How do you fly?” Archie hadn’t intended to ask the question aloud. Questions kept crowding his mind at an alarming rate, one following another, before he’d had the time to ponder the previous one through.

  “With pixie dust,” Peter called down as he began flying in more of a haphazard manner. He darted back and forth jerkily before landing back on the deck. He glowered at Archie. “If you hadn’t gotten Tink in trouble, she’d still be here and I could fly better.”

  “I do apologize. I did not wish her harm.” Archie felt guilty, though he didn’t know what to do about it. The apology seemed sufficient for Peter because a bright smile lit up his young face.

  “That’s all right, that means I’ll have an adventure. I’ll rescue her,” he announced and shot up into the air so quickly that it caused Archie to stumble backward into Smee, who muttered a variety of Irish curses. They watched the boy fly toward the island, much like a bird with a broken wing. After a few moments, he disappeared behind the dark, green mountains.

  “Well, that was interesting,” Archie commented, setting Smee on another rant of wild cursing. Ignoring the man behind him who was becoming angrier with each passing second, Archie lifted his voice to be heard over the din, “Reverse our heading, Mr. Beckett. Once again, we shall attempt to leave this place.”

  As the ship began to turn, Archie looked back at the island—a mysterious place inhabited by a strange, flying boy and pixies. While part of him wished to find an island with a port, a greater part wondered what other mysteries lay hidden, waiting to be discovered there.

  14

  We Be Pirates

  HE SHOULD never have taken the long way to the map room. Archie’s decision to go down the steps and across the length of the ship that took him through the crew’s quarters had proved disastrous. In his defense, he hadn’t known that his crew would be celebrating their fourth attempt to leave the island. At least, that’s what he supposed they were celebrating, though it could well have been something else, such as it being a Tuesday or the fact that Beckett had successfully tattooed an image of an apple on his right bicep. It took precious little to cause a ce
lebration where his crew was concerned.

  Archie had seen Boggs dancing, his tattooed woman swaying and jiggling as if in the throes of a seizure, while the rest of his body heaved up and down with the fiddle music. It was a sight that would forever scar his mind. Giving himself a mental shake, Archie tried to forget the wobbling mound of flesh inked into the shape of the portly, half-naked woman as the floorboards of the ship creaked and groaned with each dancing move Boggs initiated. Archie sighed. It was useless. The memory was carved into his brain for eternity.

  He went into the map room and shut the door. He filled up his tankard and planted himself behind the table, ready to down yet another vile glass of grape juice. His throat had healed somewhat, but tended to become sore whenever night came. Thus far, the only thing he had found to soothe it was the juice.

  He lifted it to his lips, preparing to wince at the rotten taste and discovered something—pleasant. The taste that rolled across his tongue was smooth and sweet.

  How on earth did that happen? He peered down into his tankard incredulously. It hadn’t been that long since he had bought it on Madeira. A few weeks? A month? It was impossible that the contents of that barrel had changed to wine so quickly. Yet, somehow, it had. And it wasn’t just plain wine, either. It was the best he had ever tasted.

  He was eyeing his barrel of newly discovered wine when a soft tap at the door caught his attention. He glanced up, wondering who was on the other side. His crew tended to knock so hard, he often wondered why the door hadn’t flown off the hinges, but this person seemed hesitant.

  “Come in.”

  Tiger Lily opened the door and stepped inside, offering him a warm smile. “Hello.”

  He returned her smile and stepped closer, taking her hand in his. “Good evening. How are you?” He lifted her hand to his lips. He had noticed that she had stayed below deck with the others the past few days. He had thought perhaps she was angry with him, and so he hadn’t sought her out. He was pleased to see her now, though he wondered what brought her to him so late in the evening—in his quarters, alone.

  “I wanted to speak to you.”

  Ah. Here it comes. There is a reason for this visit and it isn’t for the pleasure of my company. Archie felt the strain at the sides of his mouth as he forced a smile and pulled out a stool for her. As she sat, Archie settled himself on the chair opposite her. “How can I be of service?” he asked.

  “I have a proposition for you.”

  Curiosity struck and Archie’s brows lifted. “You have my complete attention.”

  “The food is gone. Tomorrow you will have to go to the island and hunt again.”

  That’s not news, Archie thought. Boggs had resorted to boiling the same deer bones over and over again. The last three meals had been broth. Everything else was gone. The fruit, the squirrels—everything. His stomach grumbled. “If we are at the island again in the morning, yes, we will hunt.”

  “The island will be there, just as it has been the past three mornings.” She’d said it as a statement of fact—as if she expected the sliver of vibrant green to be there once the first rays of sun streaked the sky.

  Archie stifled the urge to sigh. It was true. Each time they departed, he gave orders for a different heading and each morning, the result was the same. The island was always there to greet them once daylight came. “What do you propose?” He expected her to offer the aid of the tribe to go and hunt.

  “Let us go. In exchange, my people will hunt and bring your ship what you need. Your men can’t feed us all. We’ll starve.” Her dark eyes implored him. Archie knew she was right. The amount that they had brought back from their last escapade hadn’t been sufficient for a single day with so many mouths to feed, let alone four days. His crew hadn’t begun to complain as yet. Doubling their rum ration had done wonders in that regard, but the Indians hadn’t fared as well. The majority of them stayed in the hold despite the fact that the threat of Black Caesar was gone, but the few who wandered up to the deck for fresh air looked gaunt, their eyes sunk into their sockets. If something wasn’t done soon, it was going to get worse. Another small part of his brain reminded him of a promise he had made to her, not so long ago. I will always keep you safe. That pledge made up his mind for him.

  “Very well. If the island is there come morning, your people will go free. You have my word.”

  Surprise lit up her face first, followed by a smile wider than he had ever seen. She didn’t say a word as she jumped up from the stool and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  He patted her back. “Do not tell the others until morning—until we see the island,” he said into the warm silk of her hair that brushed his face. The last thing he wanted was a mutinous crew, out to slit his throat as he slept.

  WITHOUT HIS USUAL spill of cursing, Smee thrust his spyglass at Archie, then crossed his arms over his chest and waited as the captain put it up to his eye. The same sliver of green was there to greet them. It didn’t surprise Archie in the least. He handed the glass back, his eyes landing on Tiger Lily by the railing. From the dejected looks of the few Indians on deck, she had kept her word and hadn’t told a soul of his promise to her.

  She gave him a slight smile, and then turned to look back out across the span of ocean toward the island.

  Neverland. Perhaps that was why it was given such a name—the land you could never seem to leave. Archie watched his crew for one thoughtful moment. None of them looked enthused at seeing the island again. Their shoulders slumped and their heads hung low.

  “All right, lads. Today providence shall smile sweetly upon us,” he announced.

  A few muttered groans met his ears next. “I hate hunting. I didn’t sign up to go chasin’ wild animals,” he heard someone say. A quick retort followed from another pirate, “They be too fast to catch.” More comments filled the air, leading Archie to believe that perhaps convincing the crew to turn loose of the Indians would be easier than he thought.

  “The Indians have offered to hunt for us whenever our food runs low in exchange for their freedom,” he announced loudly, to be heard over the din. As he said the last word, complete silence greeted him. Perhaps this is a good thing, he thought, taking in the rather shocked expressions on the faces of the Indians and the pensive ones on that of his crew.

  “For as long as we are here?” Harper was the first to speak. “They will hunt enough to provide for us all?”

  Taking one quick look at Tiger Lily, who gave a small, resolute nod, he answered, “Yes, enough for us all.”

  “What happens when we leave this blasted island? If we let them go free, our booty will be gone,” Beckett said, scrubbing his beard-stubbled chin in thought.

  “We be stuck here,” Smee announced in an ominous tone. “It be magic waters we sail in, lads. We won’t be leavin’ this place. Best we have someone to hunt for us.”

  “So we vote,” a voice chimed in near the base of the mast. Boggs patted his stomach thoughtfully.

  Yes, and I know how you’ll be casting your decision, Archie thought, amused. Holding his breath and hoping that the others were in the same mindset as their cook, he said, “Yes, we vote. All in favor of having the Indians hunt for us, so long as we are near this island?”

  A mumbled aye echoed across the ship, spoken by most of the crew. They didn’t sound happy, nor did they look it. Archie smiled. “Any opposed?”

  A few unintelligible grumbles met his ears, but none so loud to be considered a vote to counter that of the others. It seemed the majority of the crew were thinking with their stomachs as opposed to their pockets.

  “Very well, they shall have their freedom. Ready the boats.”

  The pirates moved slowly as they lowered the boats. From their expressions, most of them were wondering if agreeing to release the Indians had been a good thing to do. The Indians, however, looked the happiest that Archie had ever seen them. A few of the men were helping the pirates, the jovial grins on their faces at complete odds with the dour ones that moved
at a snail’s pace. Tiger Lily had disappeared the second he proclaimed them free. Now she was helping the old chief to the deck, with the obvious intention of insuring that he was one of the first rowed to the island.

  Once the chief was settled in the long boat, she ran back toward the hold, shooting Archie a grateful, happy smile along the way. Archie watched her complete her circuit several more times, with another elderly or disabled person in tow until they all were in the longboats.

  Turning command of the Jolig Roger to Harper, Archie jumped into the last boat with Tiger Lily, intent on finishing the details of their transaction before they reached shore.

  “We will split everything we find with you. Evenly,” she offered, “I will meet you every two days and bring you your share.”

  It sounded like a good treaty to Archie, so he agreed, and let some of Tiger Lily’s excitement rub off on him. He smiled. It would be good to be free of the responsibility of caring for so many. There were at least fifty souls he would no longer have to keep watch over. With the tribe off his ship, he would have only the pirates to contend with.

  “I will miss you,” he said quietly, so only her ears would hear him.

  Her hand came over to hold his. “Every two days I promise I will be on the shore waiting for you to come.”

  He gripped her fingers. He knew that the days between he would still search the white-sanded beach for any sign that she was near. “Every day that comes, I will watch for you.”

  The boat was passing by the mermaid’s rock. Archie glanced back to the ship. He’d left most of the crew on board, taking only enough men to row the boats. He hoped the mermaid wouldn’t return in his absence. He should have stayed on board, but the thought of not seeing Tiger Lily safely to the island was more than he could bear, so he sat there and held her hand tightly in his until the tide washed them close to shore.

 

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