25/08/06

Title: The Care and Feeding of Flying Boys
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: One - Too Many Open Windows
Rating: PG13

A young man who defies gravity meets a girl with her feet firmly planted on the ground....or so she believed.

Author's Note: For Rolletti. And Kasmira...shameless rewriting of a familiar story, with characters and plot lines ruthlessly twisted to suit the author's nefarious purpose- that being, to entertain.

Disclaimer: All the well beloved characters belong to only one author, J.M.Barrie. I'm just playing in his sandbox for a little while, no harm, no foul.

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London, 1906

It was a night cold enough to send most little children snuggling down deeper into their quilts and eiderdowns, to wish their hot water bottles were that much hotter and that their feet had another pair of socks to keep them warm. Windows were iced up on the inside despite the efforts of coal fires to keep the chill at bay, the rooms unable to dispel the fierce frost from skittering across panes, leaving behind impossibly fragile traceries to delight those few hardy enough to look.

Wendy Darling was one of those few, her slender fingers tracing the outline of white covering the glass, the tips growing numb as she continued to follow the random pattern of ice crystals, the air leaving her lungs pluming white as it condensed in the cold air against the pane.

Why she was standing in nothing more than her flannel night shift and a shawl, while the clock chimed three-o-clock in the morning, was something she would have liked an answer to herself. She couldn't remember what it was that had pulled her out of her toasty bed to wander across the carpet and stare out of the window into the frost laden world, only that something had called to her, a voice that insisted that she make the sacrifice and stand at the window. Outside, the tree that, in the summer cast welcome shade over the nursery, was now devoid of any signs of life, it's broad limbs black and bare, icicles hanging from the branches, a by-product of the last snowfall. Beyond the back wall of the terrace houses flanking on either side, she could see more houses, their windows black, the drapes drawn tight to aid keeping what heat there was inside the house. Chimney's poked above dark rooftops, the occasional one puffing up clouds of sooty smoke that hung for a moment before sinking to add to the miasma of choking pollution in the streets below. Craning her neck she could see the sky high above the chimney pots, the stars as hard and bright as diamonds. So sharp they looked capable of cutting a body to ribbons, bright knives waiting for someone to be foolish enough to go abroad before daylight, poised to plunge earthwards like so many swords of Damocles. A shiver made her pull back from the window and turn away, her fanciful musings banished as another shiver made her aware of her frozen feet and numb fingers, her nose starting to drip as well.

"You're simply imagining things, you silly girl," she admonished herself, tugging the thick shawl around her shoulders again and hurrying back to her bed, shucking her slippers before diving under the covers and laying in the indentation at the center of the feather mattress. Noticing that she'd not pulled the curtains she briefly contemplated getting back out of bed to do so, then decided just as quickly not to. Her brothers hadn't stirred and were buried, much as she was, under their thick quilts, oblivious to the cold. If they had no care for the curtains remaining open, then she didn't either.

"You were just dreaming," she scolded herself softly, tucking the edge of her blanket more tightly around her chin while drawing her legs up to take advantage of her body's heat. After a few minutes her feet had started to warm up and her nose no longer dripped, her eyes sliding shut as she gave in to sleep and forgot the voice she's thought she'd heard.

# # #

Tucked up in her warm, safe little bed, Wendy dreamed - such wild and strange dreams that seemed so vivid and real while they played out, but vanished when she awoke the next morning, banished by the sun flooding into the room, the curtains still pulled back as she'd left them the previous night. What she didn't expect was to see that the window itself was half open, a chill breeze blowing into the nursery and making her nose tingle and her breath appear white.

At that precise moment the clock on the mantle chimed seven-o-clock. Pushing back her covers, Wendy rushed over to the window and slammed it down, the noise waking her two younger brothers, their tussled heads appearing from under the mounds of their bedclothes even as Wendy rushed back to her own bed and dived under the blankets once more. A few moments later the familiar shushing sound of their mother's footsteps approaching the nursery presaged her opening the door.

"Goodness but it's cold in here!" Mary Darling exclaimed, peering first at the fire that had gone out hours ago, then at the window, a crease of perplexion furrowing her brow to see it shut. Tutting to herself, she belted her dressing gown more tightly before quickly kneeling down to set the fire going again.

"Don't you get up yet my dears, the fire will quickly warm the air up in here and make it much more pleasant. We really will need to see about keeping the fire in longer. I'll ask your father for more coal for the nursery. I can't have my babies catching cold for want of a scuttle of coke!"

While their mother coaxed the fire into life, Wendy and her brothers lay buried under their blankets. Wendy particularly lay pondering what had happened the night before, trying hard to distinguish what had been real and what had been fancy, images from her dreams coming back to her in disjointed fragments. She thought she remembered someone calling her name, the voice too insistent to ignore, dragging her out of her bed to peer confusedly out of the nursery window until cold drove her back to her bed. Then she must have slept and what followed only happened in a dream. When her mother finally pronounced the room warm enough to allow them to rise, Wendy threw back her covers and looked down at the floor to find her slippers. While her brothers hurried from the room to be the first to use the bathroom, Wendy sat on the edge of her bed and stared at her feet. If she didn't know better, she'd have thought she was still asleep and dreaming. Wriggling her toes she stared as the amount of dirt covering her feet and ankles nearly up to her knees. It looked as though she'd been jumping in mud puddles half the night, the hem of her nighty similarly stained and splashed with dirt. Lifting up the bed covers she checked the end of the bed and a gasp escaped her lips when she found more dirt covering the sheets where her feet had rested. Both alarmed and surprised, Wendy hurriedly hid the evidence, while tugging her nightdress down to cover her legs.

"Well I never!"

"Never what dear?" Her mother asked, "you'd better get a move on dearest, or you'll be late for breakfast."

"Yes.....what?....Oh yes, of course. Won't be a moment."

Thrusting her grubby feet into her slippers, she pulled on her dressing gown to cover her inexplicably dirty nightclothes and left the nursery, passing her brothers on the landing as they rushed back to get dressed. Entering the tiny room that serviced the family as a bathroom, Wendy slowly shut the door behind her and turned to stare at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, much more so than she'd have expected to find after a night buried in her bed, her fingers reaching up to pluck something from the light brown strands and hold up for inspection in front of her face. The object was a tiny leafy twig with a single acorn attached. What made the twig odder than usual was it's supple greenness, the shiny green acorn looking newly minted, the leave as young and supple as only oak leaves can look when they first unfurl in the spring. Wendy stared at the twig then at her reflection.

"But it's December, nearly January...nowhere near spring."

Dropping the inexplicable plant relic into the sink, she stared once more at her face, her fingers lifting to rub at what looked like paint on one cheek. The streak of red ran from the side of her nose across her cheekbone and into her hairline, a similar line in white below that.

"Why am I wearing warpaint?" She asked the girl in the mirror, the blue eyes staring back at her carrying a wealth of confusion and no small amount of panic in their depths. "What on earth was I doing last night?"

Her mother's voice called to her and she quickly started to run some water into the sink. Hurriedly she scrubbed at her face with a washcloth before just as quickly washed away the dirt and mud coating her legs and feet, the water a dark, murky brown when she was finished. Dragging a brush through her hair, she rushed from the bathroom, not forgetting the acorn twiglet in her haste, setting that curious item down on her dressing table before attacking her clothes to change for school.

Fortunately for her peace of mind, the rest of the day passed in its usual manner with most of it spent at Miss Finchins' school for Children of Gentlemen. Later she struggled through a piano lesson with Mrs. Forbes, a neighbor four doors away, before hurrying home for her dinner. An evening of board games with her brothers ate up another passage of time and suddenly it was bedtime again. Warily, Wendy donned a clean nightdress, the previous nights attire already whisked away by the housemaid for the laundry basket, her bottom sheet likewise. Before retiring, she padded along the hall to the second best guest bedroom. Inside, her father was standing on a short ladder, a length of wallpaper hanging down as he positioned it to paste to the wall. At fifteen, Wendy was beyond the usual age of children still sleeping in a nursery, and it had been deemed time that she have a room of her own away from her boisterous brothers. She would be sorry to leave the cozy confines of the familiar room, but she also looked forward to the privacy and peace of a room that she could shut out the family from. Not that she didn't love her brothers completely, it was just that she was no longer a child, yet not quite a woman, in that difficult time and place between the two.

"Only a few more days dearest, and we'll be able to get you all moved in," her father, George Darling, grinned at her over his shoulder, the strip of wallpaper choosing to fall down at that moment and cover his head making Wendy laugh. Careful not to tear the precious paper, George pushed the strip off his head and back onto the wall, the brush in his hand holding the recalcitrant wallpaper in place. "See, have it done in no time."

"Goodnight Papa....it's looking lovely."

"Goodnight Wendy, sleep well."

Leaving her father to wrestle the reluctant wall coverings, Wendy padded back to the nursery in time to sit on her bed and listen to her mother tell Michael, the youngest, a bedtime story. Soon after, Wendy lay on her side and stared at the flickering night light set on the table near the window. A fire burned brightly in the grate, the coals heaped high to last as long as possible to keep the chill at bay.

"Goodnight dearest," her mother said, bending down to kiss her daughter. Enveloped in her mother's perfume, Wendy reached up to hug her, the pair lingering for a moment before parting. "Sweet dreams Wendy."

"Goodnight Mama,"

Warm, clean and comfortable, Wendy drifted off to sleep secure in the knowledge that her life was once more as it should be.

She awoke suddenly, her breath catching on a gasp, cold air rushing in and making her breath plume white when she breathed out. While she lay wondering nervously what had awoken her, the clock struck three time, the chimes sounding slow and ponderous to her ears, each tick in between as loud as a pistol shot. With her heart thumping in her chest, Wendy lay listening to the sounds in the room, her ears straining for the slightest clue as to what had awoken her. Across the room she could make out the humps in the beds that were her brothers, their soft snores a comfort as she turned her head to inspect the rest of the room from her limited view. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but she felt a need to make sure. Turning slowly in her bed, Wendy lifted herself up on her elbow and stared about the room. A cool breeze alerted her that the window stood open once more, the curtain moving back and forth in the chill air. The night light was no longer alight and the fire a bed of glowing coals in the darkened room.

"Oh blast it!" Jumping out of bed, not bothering with her shawl or slippers, Wendy ran across the room and tugged at the sash window, pulling it down tight before yanking the curtains across the expanse of chilled glass, shutting out the sight of the stars and rooftops beyond. Scuttling back to her bed she dived under the covers only to almost leap out again in shock.

"Oh John, you gave me such a fright, what are you doing in my bed?"

Thinking it her younger brother hiding under the blankets, Wendy put a hand out in the darkness to shove him out of her bed. Instead of the sensible flannel nightshirt her brother usually wore, Wendy encountered only bare skin, her fingers recoiling at the chill of that flesh.

"John?"

The shoulder she had so briefly touched suddenly moved and she found herself pulled further under the covers, the blankets thrown over her head and over the side, plunging her into total darkness within her own sheets. The arm that had so peremptorily snagged her, now turned her on her side, her back to whoever was in the bed with her. Before she could do more than squeak a protest, a leg was thrown over her own, pinning her in place.

Still thinking it her brother playing a prank, Wendy struggled but found herself effectively pinned by his weight and muscle, unable to do more than squirm helplessly.

"This is not funny John....let me go!"

"Just shut up and stop wriggling girl...I need to get warm!" A husky male voice ordered her, it's depth and cadence unlike either of her brothers.

Blind panic made Wendy go rigid, her heart starting to thump crazily as she finally acknowledged that whoever was in her bed was not her brother John. Someone, some male person lay stretched out on his side behind her, his body pressed tight against her back, one leg thrown over hers while one muscular arm curled around her body, just under her chest, holding her in place.

"Pl-ple-please don't hu-hurt me..." Wendy managed to get past her stiff lips, her body starting to quake with fear.

"Does it feel like I'm hurting you?" The voice inquired, sounding angry and perplexed at the same time. The body behind her shifted, pressing itself closer to her, the persons face pressed against the back of her head, his breath puffing against her hair.

"Wh-what do you want?" Wendy tried again, swallowing the lump of fear choking her throat.

"I told you....to get warm, it's a bitter night out there."

Wendy moaned softly to herself, imagining the worst. "Ar-are you a.....burglar? I don't have anything very valuable..."

"Burglar? What's a burglar?"

"You're not a burglar?" Wendy asked in some surprise, confused that the young man, whoever he was, didn't seem to know his own occupation very well.

"Tell me what a burglar is, and I'll tell you if I am one."

"A-a burglar is...." she swallowed on a dry throat, "is someone who creeps into houses through open windows and steals things,"

"What sort of things?" The voice asked, his arm loosening a little around her ribs.

"Precious things I suppose," Wendy answered, her muscle still tense and ready for flight. "Jewelery, silverware...that sort of thing."

"You mean treasure?"

"I-I suppose so."

"Hook is the burglar then, not I."

"Hook?"

"He's a pirate....don't you know anything?"

"I know lots of thing," Wendy replied with some indignation. "I know that climbing in through someone's window then into their bed is not at all proper or legal!"

"What's legal?"

"Now you're the one who doesn't know anything," the arm around her middle suddenly tightened making her gasp.

"I know plenty of things, but they are not of your world...."

"Not of my world, what can you mean?"

"I mean that I don't belong in this horrid cold place."

"Oh...." Wendy paused, the body behind her shifting slightly, "then just exactly where do you belong?"

"Neverland of course."

"Neverland? I've never heard of that place, is it in South America?"

"Stupid girl, of course not."

"Well how am I supposed to know? You come in here, climbing quite illegally through the nursery window, climb very improperly into my bed then call me stupid when I don't know where Neverland is. You've some nerve!"

An exasperated sigh gusted against the back of her neck, the arm suddenly loosening and the leg lifting off her. Feeling the body behind her start to back out of her bed, Wendy quickly turned over, her hands grabbing at the torso, her fingers getting hold of a handful of leaves, anchoring the warm body beside her.

"Oh no you don't!" Wendy hissed, still unable to see much under the covers, the heat from their combined bodies making the air muggy within the blankets. "I didn't say you could just go!"

A soft laugh greeted her angry whisper, the body jerking back leaving Wendy with a handful of loose leaves and bits of vines. Throwing back the covers, her hair over her face, Wendy sat up and stared about the dark nursery.

"Where have you gone?"

"Stupid girl.....look up."

Mystified Wendy did just that, her mouth dropping open when her eyes beheld a figure floating somewhere near to the ceiling beside the light fitting. The intruder appeared to be just hanging in space, his body laying parallel to her bed, but facing down, his arm crossed over his chest.

"Who are you?" Wendy asked, pushing herself back onto her pillows and craning her neck to see better. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"That!" Wendy pointed at him, her arm dropping to her side when the figure slowly lowered itself until it sat cross legged on the end of her bed.

"It's called flying," the voice answered her disparagingly, Wendy able to see him tilt his head to the side but little else, beside his silhouette. Reaching beside her bed, Wendy fumbled for the candle lamp left for emergencies during the night. This certainly qualified as one in her book and she struck the match, light flaring as she settled the glass shade over the candle, softening the flame. Turning back to face the intruder she shuffled back on her pillows, staring open mouthed at the boy sitting nonchalantly on her bed.

"Good grief, you're a boy!" she exclaimed. The boy rolled his eyes and huffed.

"And you're a girl, albeit a very silly one."

"You said you were cold, are you warm enough now?" Ignoring his rudeness, Wendy drew her legs under her and pulled her shawl about her shoulders.

"Very, thank you."

"Oh....er...good." Feeling at a loss for words, Wendy let her eyes wander over the strange boy, cataloging his features and clothing with some curiosity. He appeared to be a year or two older than herself, his body lean and rangy with long legs and arms, the limbs well rounded with muscles as if he did a great deal of climbing or heavy work. His head was topped with a riot of blond hair that curled around his face and ears in an endearing tussle, the ends ragged as if cut unevenly with a blunt knife. His face and body were deeply tanned a golden brown as if he spent every second of the day out in the sun, that skin also liberally smeared with streaks of dirt, evidence that he'd not bathed for a week or possibly more. His costume was the most remarkable outfit Wendy had ever seen, consisting of a multitude of different shaped and colored leaves, all interwoven to provide a pair of green shaggy trousers that reached from his navel to his knees, a vine crossing his chest and wound around one upper arm. Around his waist was a woven vine belt holding several items including what looked like a homemade pan-flute and a leather knife holder. A skin pouch also hung from the belt and seemed to be filled with something soft while peeping over his shoulder appeared to be the hilt of a sword hanging down his back. His feet were bare and looked as grubby as hers had done only that morning, the toes quite black with dirt, as were his fingernails and hands. Her eyes roamed up his torso and reached his face, her lips parting in a small gasp as she found herself mesmerized by the most beautiful pair of blue-green eyes she'd ever seen in a male face. Above the thickly lashed eyes were straight dark brows, one currently lifted almost to his shaggy hairline, her perusal apparently not appreciated by the object of her scrutiny.

"When you've finished staring...." the boy drew his brows together in a scowl and Wendy lowered her eyes, a flush painting her cheeks scarlet.

"I'm sorry, I know it's rude to stare, but I've never seen anyone dressed quite like you before. Is that sword real?"

"Yes and of course you haven't seen anyone dressed like this....there's only one of me."

"Oh....I see. Do you have a name?"

"Yes."

"Will you tell me your name?"

"No."

"Oh......why not?"

"I want to know your name first," the boy replied smugly, his lips tilting up in a winning smile.

"Alright....if you insist. Wendy Moira Angela Darling. Now, what's yours?"

The boy looked a little discomforted, shifting his backside against the coverlet and glancing to left and right. He was scowled again, muttering something incomprehensible into his chest.

"What was that, I didn't quite catch it?" Wendy asked, leaning forward and tilting her head to hear better.

"Peter Pan."

"I beg your pardon?"

"PETER PAN....did you hear that well enough!"

"I should think that most of the street heard you," Wendy retorted, both of them turning to face the beds occupied by John and Michael, the sound of someone turning over in their sleep and grumbling reaching the two poised on Wendy's bed. After a second the sleeper, probably John, settled down and both of the watchers let out a sigh of relief.

"Keep your voice down unless you want to explain to my father why you are in the nursery at this time of night," Wendy scolded.

"He'd have to catch me first," Peter retorted, folding his arms and puffing out his chest. "Never known a grown-up yet catch Peter Pan."

"There's always a first time," Wendy muttered, pulling her shawl about her shoulders. "And just what are you doing sneaking about the nursery?"

"You don't remember do you?"

"Remember what?"

"What we did last night?"

"Last night? I didn't do anything....last....night..." Wendy's voice tailed off, the image of her grubby feet and face flashing into her mind, her eyes rounding as she did indeed remember. "I had dirty feet this morning."

"Well you would insist of on walking instead of flying."

"What of earth do you mean? I didn't go anywhere last night, and certainly not with you!"

Peter sighed, his shoulders drooping as he stared down into his lap. "Yes, you did. We went to Neverland and you stayed a day and a night, then I brought you back."

"Don't be preposterous....I haven't been anywhere for that length of time."

"How did your feet get so dirty then?"

Wendy gaped at him, her mind swirling with half formed images, but simply incapable of believing his outrageous claim. As she tried to sort out what to say her eyes picked up something tangled in the vine attached to his arm. "I found something this morning....I didn't know where it had come from...." she reached under her pillow and produced the green acorn on its slender twig. Holding it out she pointed to a similar acorn sprouting from his vine. Peter took the twig and twirled it between his fingers, smiling.

"Oh yes.....your kiss..."

"My WHAT!" Wendy cried out, Peter's hand coming up to cover her lips to silence her.

"Quiet, you'll have the whole house about our ears."

Peter still twirled the small acorn around, his eyes dancing. "You gave me something last night, and I gave you this in return.....a kiss."

"But that's not a kiss, it's an acorn. Don't you know what a kiss is?"

Peter was scowling again, tossing the small piece of greenery on the bed cover and folding his brawny arms across his chest. "You told me..." He relaxed his arms and reached into the pouch at his waist. "You told me this was a kiss." He held up a small silver thimble, the tiny article perched precariously on the end of Peter's finger. Wendy stared.

"But that's my thimble."

"Then why did you tell me it was a kiss?"

"I don't know.......I don't remember."

"Well if this isn't a kiss......what is?" Peter asked, looking intently at Wendy.

"Oh gracious." Wendy felt the heat rising in her face as she blushed, Peter's eyes narrowing as she ducked her head to hide her embarrassment.

"Well?" Peter insisted, leaning forward so that when Wendy lifted her head they were almost nose to nose.

"I-I can't tell you," Wendy stammered, her eyes dropping to stare at Peter's mouth for a lingering moment before she ducked her head again. Peter stared at her in some perplexity.

"Does it hurt? Is that why you won't tell me?"

"A kiss.....hurt? No....at least I don't think so. I only have the ones I've given to my parents to judge by, and the one's they've given me of course." She still couldn't look at him, her hair falling forward to hide her flushed cheeks.

"Then give one to me......please Wendy," Peter earnest request brought her head up, her eyes sweeping over his face and coming to rest on his mouth again.

"It's not entirely proper for a young lady to give a boy she doesn't know a kiss, and certainly not a boy who sneaks into her bedroom and acts like a burglar."

"Wendy," Peter wheedled, drawing her name out, advancing towards her like a panther so that Wendy felt breathless and shockingly excited at the same time. Darting out her tongue she wet her lips in unconscious anticipation, Peter watching that small movement with interest.

Backed up against the headboard of her bed, Wendy found herself with her shoulders against the wood, Peter braced over her, his hands taking his weight where they rested on the edge of the decorated headboard. Wendy was having some difficulty breathing, her lips parting as she tried to draw in air, Peter's scent filling her nose with the smell of warm sunshine and sea air, all combined with the hint of trees and earth, altogether not at all unpleasant.

"How do you give someone a....kiss?" Peter asked, his eyes lit with mischief and his lips stretched wide in a grin of pure wickedness. Wendy swallowed and tilted her chin.

"You.....you press your lips t-to-together with someone else's....er...lips."

"Like this?" Peter leant forward the merest fraction needed to press his closed mouth to Wendy's, the pressure lingering for an instant before he pulled back. Wendy had automatically closed her eyes, but they blinked open when Peter withdrew. Peter was grinning at her with his head on one side.

"Why did you shut your eyes?"

Flustered Wendy looked away, inordinately disappointed with her first kiss. "It's what a lady does...when she's kissed by a gentleman, or so I understand."

"Oh....alright, can we try that again. This time I'll close my eyes."

With her heart fluttering in her chest, Wendy tilted her chin once more and Peter ducked his head, their lips meeting and holding, this time lingering and sliding, experimenting with pressure and position until Peter drew away once more. As if tasting a new flavor he licked his lips, appearing to contemplate what had just taken place before making a pronouncement. "I like it."

"You do?" Wendy felt both elated and slightly frustrated, the kiss lasting no longer than a few seconds, her curiosity peaked but not satisfied. "Do you think....." She paused, Peter once more staring intently, waiting for her to continue. "Do you think you'd like to...do it again?"

In answer Peter leant forward, his arm muscles bulging as he flexed his elbows to lower him sufficiently so that his lips met hers with flattering enthusiasm, the seconds ticking by as they explored the texture and sensations of their first real kiss. Breathless, they broke apart, eyes wide and chests heaving to suck in much needed oxygen. Peter sat back on his heels, his eyes never leaving Wendy's as they both experienced the intense physical reactions to kissing.

"Oh my...." Wendy breathed, her lips tingling and her cheeks hot. In fact she felt hot all over, her skin flushed as if she'd been sitting in the sun too long. Peter appeared to be similarly affected, gasping to draw in much needed air, his eyes bright, his cheekbones dark with color. Sinking down onto her pillows, Wendy pressed her hands against her chest, feeling her heart fluttering under her nightdress. Suddenly she felt the overwhelming urge to giggle, the soft sound muted at first, then breaking out so that she was forced to turn on her side and muffle the sound in her pillow. Peter felt a similar urge, his lips tilting into a grin, his eyes dancing. In the light from the candle, Wendy's hair gleamed like burnished gold, the shaking of her shoulders making it ripple down her back like a river. He reached out a hand to touch it, but the sight of his incredibly grubby fingers against the white of her nightdress made him pull back, Peter scowling down at the dirt as if to banish it with thought alone. Holding out both hands he stared at the grime, the condition repeated on his legs and feet, his toes positively black. Suddenly embarrassed to be sitting on Wendy's clean coverlet in all his dirt, Peter clambered off the bed and started to walk across the room towards the window.

Feeling the bed move, Wendy's giggles mysteriously vanished and she raised her head, alarmed when Peter started to walk away.

"Oh wait, please don't go. I'm sorry I laughed...." She scrambled off the side of the bed and ran after him, Peter stopping suddenly to swing around. Wendy cannoned into him, his arms catching her from falling while bringing them flush against each other. Peter was a half-head taller than her, his hands, gripping her waist, much broader than her own, the strength in his arms easily holding her steady until she found her feet. Away from the bedside candle, his face was in shadow, Wendy unable to read his expression in the darkness.

"I'm sorry I laughed. I didn't mean to embarrass you," she curled her own hands around his arms, feeling the flex of hard muscle under her fingertips. Abruptly Peter pushed her away, dropping his hands and jerking his arms to make her let go.

"I have to go," he mumbled, turning away from her and heading once more for the window, his hands yanking the curtains back to reveal the glass behind.

"But you can't go....you haven't told me what happened last night? How my feet got so muddy....where did I go and what did I do?"

He had the sash up and the window open, a cold blast of wintry air chilling them both instantly.

"Oh please Peter..." Wendy reached out her hand, not knowing how to stop him as he sat on the sill and lifted his legs out of the window. Her fingers were suddenly clasped in his, pulling her towards the opening, pulling her towards Peter who perched on the ledge outside, seemingly impervious to the cold. Wendy tried to resist but the strength behind the grip of his fingers was too much for her to pull away. Shivering in the cold air she found herself manhandled through the open window to stand on the small ledge outside, her hair blowing about her face as she stared in abject terror at the drop to the ground below. Tearing her eyes away from the drop, she stared instead at Peter, his blond curls dancing around his head, his eyes so bright and intense she felt mesmerized, the world reducing down to just his gaze, locked on hers. Energy seemed to be radiating from all around him, his skin glowing as if infused with sunshine, his costume of leaves fluttering as if still attached to their branches, the air almost crackling with suppressed excitement.

"I want to take you to Neverland..I want to show you all there is to see....come away with me, Wendy. Come away to a place where it's never cold, where you can swim in warm seas and walk on hot sand."

"But Peter....my family.....my brothers....I can't leave them!" Wendy tried to pull back but found his arm, like a steel bar behind her back, prevented her.

"Forget them....forget them all. I'll teach you to ride the winds' back, to soar among the clouds and swoop above the trees. We'll dance through the stars Wendy.......come with me and let me show you how."

Both entranced and terrified, Wendy stood undecided, his warmth enveloping her and chasing the chills away, his face coming closer until his lips once more pressed against hers, their heat infusing her with thrilling shivers that made her press her body closer, her hands finding their way to his shoulders as they kissed, her body jerking in surprise when his tongue touched her closed mouth. Pulling back Wendy stared into his eyes, stars appearing to swirl in their depths, her feet seemingly no longer touching the icy ledge as his arms held her effortlessly.

"Peter....I...." she started to say then stopped, her glance going over his shoulder to stare in shock at the nursery window now several feet behind them. Peter just quirked an eyebrow and smirked, his eyes darting down then up, Wendy followed his silent suggestion, looking down and seeing her bare toes suspended a long way from the ground. Quickly she squeezed her eyes shut, flinging her arms around his neck to hold herself close.

"Oh my goodness.....we're...we're....floating!" She managed to squeak, burying her face against his neck to shut out the sight of the ground so far below.

"We're flying Wendy. I won't drop you....look around, you're quite safe."

They were directly over the back garden, the tree beside them, it's branches stark against the clear sky. Through the now distant nursery window Wendy could just see her bedside candle flickering in the draft from the open window. Even as she watched the flame was blown out, plunging the room into darkness.

"I'm afraid..." she whispered, her eyes wide and dark as she pulled back, loosening her grip on his neck to see his face better.

"I won't let anything harm you Wendy......I promise, as I promised you last night, and the night before."

"Did I kiss you all those other times too?"

"No," Peter grinned, "this was the first time you kissed me."

"Oh......but why don't I remember those other times?"

"Because.....I didn't want you to remember. I usually only visit once or twice, never the same house each time. They never remember my visits, only in their dreams occasionally."

"Will I remember Peter?"

"Oh yes.....that's why I came back. I wanted you to remember, to never forget....especially now that you've kissed me."

"Oh," Wendy could feel her face getting warm again and buried it back against his neck.

"Are you ready to go Wendy?"

"I don't know....my mother and father...will I see them again?"

Peter shrugged. "If you want to. Neverland is magic Wendy, what will seem like days to you will be but hours to them."

"Magic?"

"Old magic....fairy magic. Neverland is full of it."

Looking down, Wendy could believe that wholeheartedly. "Will it take us long to get to Neverland?"

"Only as long as you wish it." Peter whispered against her hair, his arms supporting her easily as they slowly spun in the air. He felt Wendy draw in a big breath, her head lifting slowly from his shoulder, her eyes dark blue pools of barely suppressed excitement.

"Take me with you to Neverland Peter....I want to see this place you say is full of magic."

"Then away we go."

Wendy saw a glow envelop them, then the ground dropped away, her stomach lurching as they speedily ascended into the sky, London laid out below like a map. The buildings were getting smaller by the second, clouds started to obscure the details as they rose higher still. Feeling her head swirl with vertigo, Wendy squeezed her eyes shut and hung on, Peter's arm keeping her held tight against his body, her heart pounding against her chest wall.

"Open your eyes Wendy and look," Peter whispered, his voice penetrating the thundering of her heart. Lifting her head, Wendy stared entranced at the multitude of colors swirling around them, the heavens punctuated with huge sprawling ribbons of stars, their brightness only fractionally dimmed by the multicolored gas clouds surrounding them. Huge planets spun slowly past, some with rings, some with moons, all of them tightly packed as if crowded into one small part of the cosmos, the bright pinpoints of light like streaks as they sped through, one star appearing brighter.

"Hold on tight Wendy, don't let go," Peter instructed her as they flew like an arrow towards the brightest star, bursting through it's heart to emerge on the other side into darkness. They tumbled downwards, spiraling over and over until Wendy felt sick, the blackness scattered with points of light all around them. Slowly they stopped spinning, Peter loosening his grip on her.

"Do you trust me Wendy?"

"I suppose so..." she answered shakily.

"Let go."

"What?!"

"Hold on to my hand, but otherwise let go."

Cautiously, Wendy did as he asked, her hand gripping his in a vice-like hold but sliding her arms from around his neck so that she seemed to be floating free of him. It was if she was supported by a mattress of air, her limbs held effortlessly a she flew through the air, her initial terror giving way to curious wonder, her stiff face relaxing into a wide smile as nothing un-towards happened. They were now side by side, flying leisurely above a body of water in which the stars shone as in a mirror. Peter reached down and trailed his hand along the surface making the image ripple and break up before tugging Wendy upwards towards the clouds becoming visible in the sky above their heads. In front of them an island started to take shape, the sun rising behind the tall peaks and leaving the island in silhouette as Peter and Wendy approached. As they got closer the sun suddenly broached the islands mountain range, flooding the sky with bright light, the ball of flame rising much quicker than you would expect, at least it seemed that way to Wendy's surprised gaze. When they reached the tiny offshore islands the sun was already climbing to it's zenith, it's warmth reaching out to them and dispelling any lingering chill from their trip through the stars. Peter had drawn them up high enough to be able to look down on the tropical island below, it's rocky shore bordered by lush green jungle, the trees growing tall and thickly together, hiding the ground from view. Deep valleys and soaring mountain peaks undulated along the spine of the island, occasional glimpses of bright ribbons of water showing rivers and streams snaking across the slopes and flatlands as they flew past. The sun had finally stopped its hectic race into the sky, settling for a position just short of midday, although it had taken only minutes to reach that point in the sky. As they flew past a particularly high peak, Wendy saw something bright rise up out of the jungle and streak towards them, leaving a trail of sparkling dust behind it. Peter hadn't slowed and they appeared to leave whatever it was behind them, but that was not the case. The glowing trail overtook them as they circled behind a snowy ridge, the creature that produced the glittering wake circling around them both with the sound of an angry bee. Wendy couldn't tell if it was a bird or a bug, the creature moving too fast to discern it's nature, but that all changed when she felt it grab hold of her hair and pull. Hard.

Reflexively Wendy let go of Peter's hand and grabbed her hair, attempting to relieve the pressure on her stinging scalp. With Peter's magic no longer buoying her up she started to plummet, her body twisting as she fell, her screams piercing as she gave in to understandable panic. Peter swore loudly and dove downwards, the glowing creature that had caused the upset staying where it was and watching intently. Peter put on a burst of speed and managed to get under Wendy, catching her in his arms before she hit the canopy of jungle waiting to swallow her up. The force of the collision knocked the wind out of Wendy and she lay gasping in his arms as he flew them both towards a small hilltop, bare of vegetation. When he touched down he lowered Wendy's legs for her to stand, her knees buckling as soon as they touched the ground, the poor girl fainting dead away in his arms.

"Wendy?" Peter called to her in a panic,but she didn't rouse, her body boneless and insensible. Kneeling down he gently lay her down among the sweet grasses, his hand cradling her head. The mischief making sprite was slowly flying downwards to where Peter crouched, her sparkling trail not so brightly lit as before when she's been so furious. Now she was just curious to see if she'd killed the horrid Wendy creature for good this time. She buzzed around Peter's head, careful to keep beyond his arms reach, her body dancing back and forth to get a better view of the girl laying on the ground.

"Is she dead?" Tink was imprudent enough to ask. Like a snake striking, Peter closed his hand around his fairy companion and held the creature prisoner.

"If Wendy breathes her last, you will follow her within seconds!"

Tink stared in some consternation into Peter's furious face, her aura of smug satisfaction turning to a pale glow of apology, her sudden change of temper not appeasing the young man holding her.

"And don't think I'll forgive your for this days mischief. I banish you from my sight, Tinkerbell. Be gone and don't come back."

Opening his hand he flung the fairy sprite as far as he could, the creature hitting the ground in a shower of fairy dust, one wing sadly crumpled from his rough handling. Disbelieving, Tink rose into the air and tried to approach him, her former buzz of anger turning to the tinkling sound of tiny bells as she tried to mollify his anger with her show of contrition. Peter remained unmoved, his attention all on the girl still laying unconscious at his feet.

"Go away Tink....this is one prank you won't wheedle your way out of this time."

In a flash of temper, Tink turned bright red and tiny flames danced around her body like she'd caught fire. Incensed, she flew directly at Peter's face, his hand swatting at her as if she was an insect. Just barely avoiding his attempt to brush her off, Tink flew up and away into the sky, a red ball of outrage, her passage marked by a thin trail of smoke.

Peter sat on his haunches and stared down at Wendy, his brows pulled together in a fierce scowl as he contemplated how to wake her from her insensate state. He remembered a story about a princess awoken from her slumber by a kiss, the idea making him laugh at the time he'd heard it. Now it didn't seem so fanciful having experienced the magical qualities of a kiss for himself. Bending down he pressed his warm lips to Wendy's, moving them over hers but getting no answering pressure for his efforts. Pulling back he stared down at her face and marveled anew at how her features seemed to please him so much.

Like all boys Peter had his share of arrogant over-confidence, sure in himself that he could charm the birds from the trees if he only put his mind to it. Girls were not that dissimilar to birds, their chatter reminding him of a flock of parrots sometimes. He'd known many girls in his travels between his world and theirs, their reactions to his appearance ranging from lascivious curiosity to shrieking terror. Only a few merited bringing to Neverland, and among those few only one had held his interest for more than one visit. That interest hadn't waned one fraction, and now with the discovery of kissing, his curiosity was starting to know no bounds.

In all the many years that he'd lived in Neverland, he never, before now, felt the need for a human female companion, his memories of his mother giving him a dread of managing women who only wanted to plan his future down to the smallest detail. Peter had been happy to be the eternal boy, the children brought to his world as his companions more than enough of a diversion for his insatiable need to be Master and Commander of his world. When Peter had told Wendy that timed passed differently in Neverland he was telling the truth, but only up to a point. True, Neverland had it's own way of counting the years, but more truly, Neverland slowed time down to keep the reason for its creation alive for as long as possible. Maybe not immortal, but as close as the magical world could render.

Neverland was a world separate from the one Wendy inhabited. Here were none of the mechanical marvels that were turning Wendy's world into one barely recognizable to anyone born the previous century. Machines were being invented and put into use faster than people could become used to them, and war was looming ever closer on the horizon. Neverland was bubble in time, a place where seventeenth century pirates still sailed the seas in eighteenth century ships, the Jolly Roger held captive in the waters around the island, another plaything to relieve the Pan's boredom and provide the excitement needed to keep him also a captive. But Neverland could not entirely stop the Pan from growing, from the tiny babe first brought to it's shores, carried on the dreams and desires of the fairies, to the strapping young man now it's master, the island could only watch him grow, knowing that eventually it's magic would not be sufficient to keep him within it's boundaries unless they let him go beyond and explore the real world of humans with all it's temptations.

Now it waited patiently for it's purpose to make his choice, whether to fly for the last time back to the world beyond the stars, or to stay within it's sheltering cocoon, the human world left to it's own devices.

It could only watch and wait, its creatures both magical and mortal held in thrall while their protector, sustainer and creator made the ultimate choice.

For now, such weighty consideration were not uppermost in Peter's mind, his entire focus on the slim girl laying at his feet.

At length Wendy started to recover from her swoon, her eyelids fluttering as she regained her senses. Peter leant over her, shading her face from the sun, her first view of Neverland after her fall being Peter's concerned face peering down at her.

"Wendy?"

"Oh my head...what happened?"

"Tink happened."

"Tink?"

"I've banished her, so you don't have to worry about her again, at least until I forgive her."

"Tink?" Wendy repeated, accepting his hand to help her sit upright.

"Tinkerbell....she's a fairy with a horrible temper."

"A fairy? But surely, there's no such thing as....." Wendy got no further, Peter's hand clamping over her mouth to stop her saying the fateful words that would condemn a fairy somewhere to drop down dead.

"Don't ever say that Wendy. To say that is the death of a fairy somewhere, usually the closest to you when you say it. Please, not even in jest." He lifted his hand and Wendy nodded her compliance.

"I'm sorry...I didn't know. I promise I won't say it again...ever." She smiled shyly, Peter returning her smile with a sunny grin of his own. Jumping to his feet he spun around like a boy half his age, his arms flung out wide in joyous abandon.

"Welcome to Neverland Wendy!"

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Chapter: Two - Wonders to Explore

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Wendy stared around at the dense jungle surrounding them, the tall peaks overshadowing them, and wondered how on earth she could have forgotten visiting such a wondrous place. Her initial fright had been transformed into an excited anticipation, the urge to explore this island paradise making her almost jump up and down like a small child. Peter lay flopped on the warm grass, his limbs splayed and his eyes closed, still breathing heavily from his mad twirling dervish impersonation. Above their heads a squadron of lazy white clouds drifted by, careful not to block the sun from the small hillock occupied by the Pan and his companion. While Wendy watched their curious progress, the clouds reached a snowy peak, their color turning from white to dirty grey before bunching all together and releasing their rain burden on the slopes of the mountain. Wendy blinked in bemusement, having never seen clouds behave quite so strangely, but she accepted it as par for the course with a sun that rose with indecent haste into the sky, then stayed in that same position for hours on end.

"This place really is magical," she breathed, hugging herself and drawing the sweet scented air into her lungs with relish. After the dusty, coal laden soot of London, Neverland air seemed as heady as champagne, her small taste at a relatives party her only comparison. As she breathed deeply she felt herself relax, her limbs deliciously limp, all trace of anxiety leaching out of her muscles.

"Peter?"

"Hmmm?"

"You said that when I came before, I didn't want to fly."

"That's right."

"I think I might have changed my mind.....is it really possible for me to fly?"

"U-huh."

"But how?"

"Faith, trust and pixie dust.....oh and a happy thought."

"Really? Sounds awfully...simple."

"I guess it does. I don't usually think too hard about it, it just....is."

"Oh...so you don't need," Wendy waved her hands, "all that?"

"Nope....just comes natural, I suppose." He finally opened his eyes and squinted up at Wendy, pulling himself up into a sitting position. "I've always been able to fly, even when I was small."

"Just how long have you been on this island?" Wendy asked, her eyes wide.

"No idea...a long time, certainly. But exactly how long? You'd have to ask the fairies. They brought me here."

"How......different. So you weren't born here," she waited while Peter shook his head, "do you remember your parents?"

"Not really. I sometimes think I remember my mother leaning over my bed, but I couldn't tell you what she looked like, it's all too hazy."

"But how on earth did you go on, without a mother I mean?"

"Go on?"

"Well," Wendy looked perplexed, "I mean.....who fed you, changed your..." she flapped her hand vaguely, "down there, who bathed you when you were little?"

"I don't know....not my mother, anyway. Maybe I didn't need one," Peter shrugged, already bored with the conversation.

"Oh you poor boy.....you never really had a mother."

"I never really wanted a mother, you mean. Who needs a mother when there's food dropping off the trees, ready and ripe to eat? When there's rivers and streams full of clear, fresh water to drink and fish to be caught and eaten. What has your mother done for you, that you couldn't have done for yourself, if you really tried?" Peter was starting to feel uncomfortable, not at all easy with the idea that he'd missed out on something, or that Wendy somehow pitied him.

Wendy was thinking with all seriousness about his question, her delicate brows pulled together as she pondered an answer. Peter had meanwhile risen to his feet in one lithe move, his hands gravitating to his hips as if he expected a battle, his muscles tense in anticipation.

"I suppose the one thing I've had from my mother, which I couldn't have by myself....is love."

"Pah!," Peter scoffed instantly, flapping his hand dismissively, " the very name offends me!"

Wendy looked a little taken aback with his reaction. "Don't you know what love is, Peter?"

"Love is for fools and sissy's. I don't give a fig for love," he snapped his fingers in her face, "and only idiots prose on about it." Very uncomfortable under Wendy's shocked stare, Peter jumped into the air and hovered above her, extending his hand for her to take. "Let's stop talking about all this stupid stuff. There's so many things to show you....come on!"

"But what about flying?" Wendy asked,deciding not to pursue the argument about feelings for the moment, her hand lifting to take his.

"Oh....right," he huffed, annoyed to have forgotten and already missing the feel of her hand in his when he let it drop while he landed on the soft grass. "Stand over here and think of something that makes you happy." While Wendy thought hard to bring to mind a happy something, Peter opened the pouch at his belt and pulled out a small glass vial with something glittery inside. "Have you thought of something?"

"Yes, thank you."

Peter tilted the small glass bottle and shook out some fairy dust into his palm. Replacing the stopper he put the bottle back in his pouch, then came to hover in front of Wendy, his feet not quite touching the grass. Lifting his hand he held it palm out towards Wendy, the small mound of dust at its center glittering in the sunlight. With a gently pursing of his lips he puffed air over the dust, wafting it in a sparkling cloud into Wendy's face where it settled over her cheeks and hair. Wendy blinked and smiled tentatively, feeling no different from a second before. Peter dusted off his hands and folded them across his chest. Still hovering several inches off the ground he circled around Wendy until he was directly behind her, then he leant over her shoulder.

"Are you thinking that happy thought?"

"Oh yes....but I don't really feel any different. When will I know if I'm flying?"

In answer, Peter circled around to face her, his face split with a wide grin. Flicking his eyes downwards, he cocked an eyebrow, Wendy following his gaze to find herself floating quite free of the ground, several feet in the air. Peter wasn't touching her, his arms still folded across his chest, so that Wendy understood that she was doing it all by her own efforts, with a little help from the pixie dust.

"Oh Peter....oh my....." her face was a picture of wonder and delight, her arms lifting of their own accord away from her body, which tilted her slightly a she continued to rise. "Er...Peter? How do I turn, or go forward, or anything?"

Her instructor laughed and reached for her hand, tugging her around to face in the other direction, inordinately happy that Wendy still needed him after all. "Just hold tight, you'll get the hang of it in time. Watch what I do and you'll catch on."

He flew off with Wendy in tow, the jungle passing below them at a faster and faster rate until Wendy called to him to slow down, her new found confidence eroded by fear. They had passed over a vast tract of heavily forested land, the far side of the forest giving way to open grassland, the plain dotted with herds of animals of many different breeds including deer and antelope, goats and sheep all grazing together in apparent harmony. Peter brought them lower so that they almost skimmed the fluffy fronds of the taller grasses, Wendy laughing when they tickled her toes. The animals, which had been peacefully grazing, took off at a gallop when the strange flying creatures dipped and swooped over their heads.

Palm trees appeared up ahead and Peter didn't slow, Wendy letting out a small shriek as Peter dove into and between the tall, slender trunks, weaving in and out with Wendy still in tow. Fortunately the belt of palm trees was relatively shallow, Peter and Wendy emerging on the other side to find a wide, gleaming stretch of sand gently washed by a clear blue sea, the water so transparent Wendy could see hermit crabs scuttling along the bottom of the shell strewn bay. For a second Peter hovered over the sparkling water then went to fly onwards, but found Wendy's hand had slipped from his, her attention taken by the myriad fish darting below her in the water. Entranced by the silver flashes of fish across the sandy bottom, she lay staring face down at them, her face wreathed in smiles, her hair falling forward to screen her face. She lifted her head to beam at Peter who returned her smile for a second, his expression changing in an instant from a smile to a frown, his mouth opening to shout a warning just as something surged out of the water and reached for Wendy. Peter was faster and managed to grab Wendy's gown and tug her upwards and out of the reach of the enraged mermaid thrashing below. The calm sea was a froth of disturbed water, the creature beating the water with its muscular tail, spray arcing high into the air as Peter and Wendy hovered higher up. Peter could feel Wendy shaking from her close call, staring wide eyed as the mythical mermaid sank below the water and sped away with powerful thrusts of its tail flukes. Flying them both back to the beach, Peter set Wendy down on the pristine white sand and peered anxiously into her face.

“Are you alright?”

“I think so......was that a-a-a mermaid?”

“Nasty creatures, and that's when they behave themselves. Don't ever let one catch you in the water, it'll sweetly drown you before you could cry out or escape.”

“How horrid. I always thought they were kind and rescued drowning sailors, or so the stories tell.”

“More like they would be drowning the men or carrying them off to Neptune's Lair as slaves.”

“Neptune? But surely.......he's.....” She saw one dark eyebrow start to rise, “.....not....” A grin tilted Peter's lips as he waited for her to finish, “......real?”

“I'll take you to meet him sometime. Neptune isn't as bad as he makes out, as long as you don't disturb him or try to steal his horde.”

“Oh my,” Wendy murmured to herself.

“And then there's the pirates,” Peter announced apropos of nothing, a wicked gleam in his eye. Wendy started and turned to stare once more.

“Pirates?” She swallowed, “ did I meet them last time I came here?”

“Meet the pirates?” Peter hooted, slapping his knee and doubling up. “You don't want to meet the pirates. They're as bad as the mermaids, but instead of drowning you, they'd as sooner slit your throat or make you walk the plank!”

“Good Lord,” Wendy whispered, thoroughly alarmed. “Is there anyone on this island that doesn't what to kill you as soon as look at you?”

As if suddenly realizing that he wasn't painting Neverland as a particularly attractive place, Peter looked nonchalant and tried to brush off her worries. “The pirates tend to sail around the waters of the Black Castle and the Mermaids usually stay near Mermaid Lagoon or further out into the Four Points sea.” He leant forward as if imparting a secret. “They like to keep an eye on what the pirates are doing.”

“I see.” Wendy looked doubtful but smiled gamely. “So apart from yourself, there are pirates, mermaids, fairies....?” She looked expectantly at Peter, who looked blank for a moment then realized she wanted him to tell her who else inhabited Neverland.

“Oh right......well apart from them, there's the Lost Boy's....”

“Lost Boy's?”

“They're sort of my....er...soldiers. I live with them, usually, and we plan battles and strategies against the pirates, as well as the Piccaninies......”

“And they are?” Wendy interrupted, raising her eyebrows this time.

“You met them before.....but you wouldn't remember, I guess. They are the Redskins......er....Red Indian's that live beside the Green River. I introduced you to the Chief and Tiger Lily.” Peter told her, his brow furrowing for a second, “For some reason I didn't get the feeling you liked the Princess, I don't know why.” Unknown to Peter, Wendy had taken an instant, and quite irrational dislike to the Indian Princess, trusting her feelings despite not remembering them.

“Is the Princess beautiful?” Wendy tried to appear unconcerned with the answer, shading her eyes from the sun and peering over the bay to the distant horizon.

“You thought so, when you first saw Lily, but not long afterwards you had this look on your face,” he shrugged, “I don't know....for some reason you and she just didn't hit it off.”

“I see,” said Wendy, seeing far more than Peter on this matter. “So apart from the Lost Boys and the, er Piccaninies, is there anyone else I should know about?”

“Not really, but you never know in Neverland. Unusual people and new animals turn up at the oddest times and in the strangest places.”

“Goodness. Don't you know where they come from?”

“Not really. Oh, there is one thing you should be careful of, in fact I'd make a point of keeping well clear of it, if I were you.”

“What Peter, what is it?”

“The Crocodile. It's not your ordinary croc, this one is huge,” he spread his arms wide, “with the biggest teeth and the wickedest temper. You can usually hear it coming because it ticks, like a clock...”

“It what?” Wendy exclaimed, laughing nervously and half hoping that Peter was only teasing.

“Ticks, like a clock. It swallowed an alarm clock and you can hear it ticking. Sometimes the alarm goes off as well, as an added warning.”

“How did a crocodile, even a big one, come to swallow an alarm clock?”

“Because Hook threw the clock at the creature to distract it after it bit off his hand!”

“Good Lord, how dreadful, the poor man!”

Peter looked askance, not expecting his enemy to garner pity. “James Hook is a pirate and not worth your pity!”

“But to have lost his hand...” Wendy reproved, her soft heart imagining some poor sailor with a grievous injury. Peter scowled at her angrily.

“Hook manages quite well for a pirate with only one hand. He quickly replaced it with a wickedly sharp hook which he uses for gutting and slitting throats without turning a hair, so don't feel sorry for him. He wouldn't feel sorry for you!”

“A pirate?”

“My enemy and yours. Captain Hook would not hesitate to put you to the plank, so don't spare any pity for him.”

Wendy stared at Peter, noting his high color and tense body, correctly deducing that this Captain Hook was a considerable thorn in Peter's side. “I'll remember what you said Peter, if I'm every captured by the scurvy rat.”

“I'll teach you to fight with a sword so you can defend yourself,” Peter offered, drawing his blade from over his shoulder and pretending to fight a fierce battle with an imaginary foe, the steel blade cutting and slicing the air with quite vicious precision. Wendy watched admiringly, her eyes bright, clapping when Peter finally finished his demonstration of swordsmanship by tossing the blade end over end before catching it in his hand and sheathing the sword once more. Peter looked pleased with himself and gave her a small bow to acknowledge her applause. Wendy found herself having to stifle a jaw-cracking yawn as the long hours without sleep caught up with her.

“Oh please excuse me, it's just I haven't been sleeping well and I'm just a bit tired,” she explained, ignoring the quick frown of annoyance that crossed her companions face. “Maybe you should show me where you live?”

“I suppose so. Maybe you'll remember it, you've been there twice already.” Taking her hand he took a step and leapt into the air. This time Wendy was ready and leapt with him so that they lifted effortlessly into the sky and above the tree tops. Leaving the bay behind them, Peter flew speedily towards the heart of the forest, the trees densely packed like a carpet beneath them. Without warning, Peter dove straight down towards the topmost branches, Wendy drawing in a breath of alarm before finding herself plunged into the canopy and surrounded by leaves on all sides. Miraculously they avoided being speared or snagged by any of the branches, Peter leading them through the filtered green sunlight as if following a well trodden path. Wendy barely had time to take in the fluttering green leaves and dense jungle before Peter pulled her through what appeared to be a thick hedge, the leaves parting before him like a wave and closing behind her just as mysteriously. On the other side was a clearing carpeted with a variety of flowers and low growing plants forming a circle around the base of a tree. Peter set them down, Wendy's feet cushioned by the flowers and sinking in ankle deep. Dropping her hand, Peter raised his fingers to his lips and let out a piercing whistle, the sudden sound making Wendy clap her hands over her ears in protest. Before she could remonstrate with him the tree seemed to sprout a multitude of openings, camouflaged hatches swinging open and disgorging several small bodies as if catapulted from the inside. Wendy took a step back as the furred and feathered bundles unwound themselves to reveal a motley collection of young boys, all of them heavily armed with a variety of cudgels, knives and bows. Peter stood where he'd landed, his feet braced apart and his arms folded across his chest. Wendy edged to stand behind him as the assorted weapons carried by the boys seemed all to be pointed at her. In the silence that followed Wendy could hear the soft swish of the leaves above their heads as the wind rustled the branches while birds chirruped and squawked overhead. In a blink the tableau disintegrated, the Lost Boys lowering their weapons and relaxing their martial stance on recognizing their Captain and his companion.

“Oh, its just that girl again,” one particularly grubby individual commented disparagingly. Lowering his tomahawk, he tucked it in to his belt and rolled his eyes at Peter. “Couldn't you get rid of her this time Peter?”

“Shut up Crate,” Peter growled, scowling at his henchman. The other's took their cue and kept their comments to themselves, staring round eyed and warily at Wendy, who still stood half behind Peter and peered back at them with equal caution. “Line up men!” Peter ordered, his troops hastily sorting themselves into a ragged line according to height. Peter unfolded his arms and clasped his hands behind his back before marching down the line to inspect the boys ranged before him. Wendy thought the whole scene very comical and had to swallow hard to stifle the giggles welling up in her chest. His inspection finished, Peter turned and held out his hand for Wendy. “This is my Wendy, as you know, she's here to stay this time.”

“Oh no, Peter really, it was just for a visit....” Wendy protested faintly, but her voice was drowned out by a the outraged and angry arguing of the Lost Boys. Peter clapped his hands over his ears as the boys gathered around him, the one called Crate shouting the loudest between shooting scowling looks at Wendy.

“QUIET!” Peter bellowed, cutting short the many and colorful arguments being debated on all sides. “I'm Captain here and what I say goes. Now cut line and get out of my sight!” He punctuated his order with a sweep of his arm, the boys scattering and darting away into the jungle, the clearing miraculously clear of noise and bodies within seconds. Wendy stood a little aback, wringing her hands and biting her bottom lip as Peter hung his head and breathed heavily, fighting to control his temper.

“Peter?”

“Forget them, forget them all. What I say goes, and I say you're here to stay.”

“But Peter...don't I have a say in the matter?”

For a second Peter maintained his ferocious scowl, then just as quickly it was gone and his expression cleared. Grinning, he flung out his arms and made Wendy a handsome bow, his eyes alight with laughter. “Of course you don't Wendy, this is Neverland and I am it's King. Now you are it's Queen, and a Queen always does what the King wants.”

“What if the Queen decides to abdicate?” Wendy muttered, unable to entirely repress the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth at his engaging grin.

“Then the King would just have to persuade the Queen that she really wants to stay and keep him company. You will stay, won't you Wendy?”

“For a little while,” Wendy agreed, dipping into a curtsy, her eyes lowered as her nightdress swept the ground. On rising she found Peter had moved so that they almost bumped noses, his lips covering hers in an intense but brief kiss before he moved away and drew her after him.

“Come on, I want to show you the Hollow, it's where we live, at least for this week.”

“This week? Don't you live here all the time?”

“Nah! We have half a dozen hidden hideouts scattered all over Neverland. If we stayed all the time in just one, the Pirates would have us dead to rights. So instead we move between them, a different one each week. It keeps the Pirates confused and incapable of finding us.”

“I suppose that's a good reason, but hardly comfortable, I'd have thought.”

Peter was standing beside the broad trunk of the enormous tree, leaning against the rough bark with a smug grin on his face. When he had Wendy's attention, he poked a finger into a knot-hole, the action precipitating a large area of the trunk to swing outwards and reveal a doorway into the tree. Wendy gasped and bent forward to peer into the darkness.

“How clever, I never would have thought to look there.”

“Follow me, and keep close or the booby-traps will get you.”

“Booby-traps?” Wendy asked in some trepidation, clutching Peter's hand as he led her reluctantly forward into the dark maw.

“Trust me Wendy, I won't let them get you,” Peter whispered, his voice sounding strange within the confines of the tree trunk, Wendy clutching at his fingers as they started down a spiral staircase cut into the living heart of the tree. Wendy couldn't see a thing in the darkness, her senses reaching out as they slowly made their way down below ground level. She could smell the damp sweet smell of freshly dug earth as well as the aroma of fresh cut timber. Her free hand braced her against the wall of the hideout, her fingers brushing over the fibrous walls that felt almost spongy under her fingertips.

“Nearly there,” Peter voice floated to her out of the darkness, her feet stumbling a little on the uneven stairs as they continued down into the roots of the tree. Down below Wendy could see light starting to highlight the stairwell from a archway at the bottom, the golden glow a welcome sight after the suffocating darkness. Wendy crowded past Peter to enter the large room that opened out from the stairwell. She felt relieved to be free of the confining entrance and looked about the room with interest. Peter had left her and sauntered over to what looked like a large, barbaric throne, the high back made of smoothly polished wood hung all about with animal skins, shells and feathers. Supremely at his ease, Peter undid the vine holding his sword harness, dropping it to the floor before sitting down and looping one long brown leg up and over the armrest, his foot swinging as he watched Wendy explore the hideout. Brushing off her skirts she stepped forward and tilted her head to look up at the ceiling several feet above her head. Spidery roots hung down through the earth while bigger roots twisted and writhed around the walls. Several niches had been carved out of the soil to form what Wendy supposed were sleeping bays for the boys, the alcoves lined with more animal furs or soft grasses for bedding. The floor had been lined with soft moss to fill in the hollows in the dirt and provide a soft carpet underfoot. Around the walls blazed small lamps made out of large sea shells, their flames kept well away from the dry roots while providing a steady and bright light. In all it was warm, dry and very cozy

“What do you think?” Peter asked, appearing quite nonchalant while he picked at his nails with a sharp knife, but Wendy could tell that he was actually keenly awaiting her verdict.

“Very......homely. Although I have never lived in a burrow underground, I would say that this is a very snug and comfortable home Peter. Are your other hideouts as comfortable as this one?”

“Some are, some aren't,” Peter replied enigmatically, thumping the tip of the knife into the wooden arm of the chair and launching himself off the throne. “You said you were tired, so you can sleep here if you want to.” He indicated an animal skin hanging on the wall, sweeping it back with his arm to reveal a much larger alcove dug into the wall of the room, the roof and walls covered in small roots that twisted and wove around each other to form a bower. Each root was smooth as if polished, holding the earth back and making a secure cradle for the bed. A multitude of animal skins of many different hues and sizes lay scattered over the surface of the bed, some heaped up to form a pillow at the head and all looking soft and inviting. Wendy smiled tentatively at Peter before hitching up her skirt and climbing up onto the bed, her fingers digging into the soft furs as she turned to kneel in the center of the soft mattress and turned to face Peter. He had secured the animal skin curtain back so that she could see out into the room and now stood waiting for her to speak. Suddenly shy, Wendy blushed and concentrated on stroking the different types of furs.

“This is your bed, isn't it?”

“Yes.”

“It's very nice Peter. Did you.....er.....kill all these animals yourself?”

“No,” Peter laughed, “I traded with the Indians for them. They make the best and softest furs.”

“What did you use for trade?” Wendy asked, curious. She was well aware that animal fur in her world was highly prized, her mother owning only a few pieces herself while her Aunt Millicent owned a fine collection of muffs and silky fur collars, all of them costly. Peter shrugged.

“Pearls mostly, sometimes coral. They use them to decorate their dresses and headbands. The mermaids find them for me.”

Thinking of her mother's highly prized but small, single strand pearl necklace, Wendy nodded her head. “Pearls would be a fine trade for these lovely furs. And of course, you can always eat the oysters.”

A brief expression of disgust crossed Peter's face before he hopped up on the side of the bed himself and swung his legs. “Oh we don't eat them. They can't keep producing pearls if we keep eating them. No, they give up the pearls to the Mermaids who give them to me in tribute after they've picked out what they want for themselves.”

“So the pearls are like money on Neverland.....I see.”

“I suppose so. Do you like my bed?”

“It's very comfortable. It seems much bigger than the other beds......” Wendy halted her observations, realizing the implications of what she'd just said. “I mean......I suppose because you're the biggest....er the tallest.....oh dear.” She blushed bright red and ducked her head, hiding behind the curtain of her hair. Peter appeared not to notice anything amiss with her statement and blithely linked his hands behind his head and lay back on the furs.

“Well of course. I'm the King, and Kings always have the biggest bed, don't they?”

“Of course, I had forgot. So as Queen, do I get a big bed too?”

“Yeah, you get this one, if you want it?”

“Oh I don't think that would be entirely proper Peter. The other's would, well....I don't think the Lost Boy's would like me to be sleeping in your bed.”

“Why not? Kings and Queens sleep together, don't they?”

“Well actually, from what I've read about royalty, I don't think they even sleep in the same palace, let alone the same bed!”

“Then how do they have princes and princesses?” Peter asked, turning on his side and propping his head on his hand. Wendy didn't know what to do with herself, the alcove seemingly full of Peter and the air suddenly very thin.

“Um.....I'm not sure we should be having this conversation.”

Peter frowned. “Don't you know where children come from?” He asked, looking at her pityingly.

“Don't be stupid, of course I know where children come from, I'm fifteen for heaven's sake......do you?”

“I'm not stupid, I've seen where babies come from at the Indian village......and anyway, how did we get on to this talk about babies.” Suddenly feeling hot and embarrassed, Peter flung himself onto his back again and stared frowningly up at the roof of the alcove. “Girls always have to talk about blasted babies,” he muttered, rolling onto his other side and presenting his golden brown back to Wendy.

“Well it's not my fault,” Wendy replied heatedly, “you started talking about Kings and Queens and princes and whatnot.”

“I thought you were tired,” Peter growled from the end of the bed.

“I am, and if you'll remove yourself from the bed I'll have a little lie down and close my eyes.” Wendy nudged him with her toe before scooting back up to the head of the bed. With an aggrieved sigh, Peter sat up and slid off the bed before marching back over to the throne and throwing himself into it. Wendy watched him for a second or two before carefully stretching out on the luxurious furs and laying on her side.

“Peter?”

“Yes.”

“I know you said something about days here being only hours back home, but is that true?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. But you do realize I can't stay here forever, even if it is longer than I stayed before?”

“Maybe.”

“Peter?”

“Go to sleep Wendy. The Lost Boys won't be back for a while, but I'll stay and keep watch.”

“I just need a little nap,” she yawned, her eyes already feeling heavy as she snuggled into the soft furs. Once more her eyelids rose, as if to check that Peter was still sitting in his ornately decorated chair, before slowly closing as Wendy gave in to the lull of the soft furs and fell asleep, her cheek pillowed on her palm. Peter swung his foot back and forth over the arm of his throne, watching the girl on his bed slip into dreamland, a smile curving her sweet lips. Somewhere inside him a feeling started to grow, a warmth that was only a spark now, but just as a spark can grow into a blazing fire, so this spark inside him felt as if it could grow to encompass the world. Being supremely confident, he didn't attribute the sensation to nerves or insecurity, but instead decided it was just the way that Wendy made him feel, like the jolt he felt every time she turned her smile on him, her eyes lighting up when they met his, the glow inside making his heart thump and his muscles twitch until he wanted to explode in all directions. Then there was the feeling he got when his lips had touched hers that first time. It was as if an ember had jumped between them, a crackle of energy that acted like magnetism and drew him back again, and again. Even in the glade above, he felt the overwhelming urge to see if the ember was still there, his curiosity urging him to kiss her again, the sensation as alive and vibrant as the first time. He wanted to ask her if she felt it too, but his tongue tied itself up in knots and the question remained unasked. He had to find a way to make sure that she never left Neverland, never left him. The two previous times he'd brought her to his island she been in an all fire hurry to return home, despite apparently enjoying her time with him and the fun they'd had together. This time he wasn't prepared to let her return home, sure in his own mind that if he did let her go, he'd never entice her back again or worse, she not ever want to see him again. So she was here to stay, forever and ever, she was his choice from all the others, she was the one, there would be no others. A yawn suddenly interrupted his musings and he opened his mouth wide, his jaw cracking as he sucked air into his lungs. A moment before he'd felt wide awake, but now he felt the pull of sleep on his eyelids, his chin sinking to his chest as weariness stole over him. Slumped on his throne, he dozed fitfully, his head jerking up every few minutes as he shifted to find a more comfortable spot. At last he gave up the unequal battle and got up, making his way over to the couch where Wendy slumbered peacefully. Divesting himself of his remaining weapons, pouch, pan pipes and other paraphernalia, he crawled onto the bed and up behind Wendy, the bed wide enough to hold them both in comfort. Wendy was still on her side, her back to him, so he lay as she did, staring for a moment as the cascade of hair flowing over the pillow and her shoulders to half way down her back. Careful not to touch her, he lifted a length of her hair and let it fall through his fingers, his mouth opening on another enormous yawn as he settled down to sleep, his eyes drifting shut as Wendy's steady breathing lulled him into a doze. Just before he dropped off, he jerked upright and flicked the animal skin curtain he'd pulled back before, the skin falling forward to seal the alcove off from the room beyond, light leaking in around the edges so that they lay in a faint gloom, safe and secure in a world of their own.

Wendy awoke several hours later to the sound of voices on the other side of the hide curtain. They were hushed and muted and she could only make out one word in ten, but curiosity kept her still, her body warm and relaxed against the furs as she listened intently.

“I say it don't mean anything good for us if she's here,” one of the voices announced loudly, only to be shushed by others.

“Keep ya voice down Crate, we knows how you feels,”

“We managed to get her to leave the last two times, what's so different about this time?”

“He's never brought a mort more than once to Neverland. This one's been here three times now. You don't think that's significant?”

“What's significant mean?”

“Important.”

“Oh....ta.”

“Stow it Squid. I say this time she's here for good. So how are we going to get rid of her?”

“Why do we need to get rid of her?”

“Stupid twit. This one is different. There's only one reason he's brought the mort here to Neverland to stay.”

“Why Crate, why?”

“Cos' he's gonna marry her!”

A muted chorus of awed voices chittered for a second or two before being shushed.

“Hush the lot of ya, you'll wake them up!”

“How do ya know that what he wants with her?”

“Lawd Grub, it's obvious?”

“What's obvious mean?”

“Easy to see,”

“Oh.....ta.”

“He could just want her to cook and clean for us......like a maid or something?”

“A gentry mort like that ain't a maid.”

“She could be here to be our mother?”

“I don't need no stinkin' mother, neither does Peter.....no, she's here for another reason and it can only bode ill for us.”

“I thought she was pretty.”

“Hah! You aint no judge Rat. You think flowers are pretty and rainbows and butterflies!”

“Well, they are....”

“One day your daydreaming will get you caught by the pirates for sure.”

“No it won't.....I'm always the one that warns the rest of you.”

“That's true. Rat has the best hearing......”

“We're not talking about Rat, we're talking about her and how to get rid of her!”

“Well Peter might have something to say about that Crate.”

“Shut up Harry and keep your hoity toity views to yourself.”

“I've got as much right as you to speak Crate, you're not the leader here.”

“Maybe not now, but that could change.”

“Crate, what are you saying?”

“Nuffin....this is stupid talk. All I want to know is how to get rid of the mort.”

“Well I suggest we talk to Peter, find out why she's here...maybe she won't want to stay.”

A murmur of voices in agreement drowned out the next comment, and then it was silent for a while. Wendy lay listening intently, her senses stretching out to the room beyond. Her heart was thumping unevenly, her fingers pleating the bodice of her night gown as she waited to hear what fate the Lost Boys had in mind for her. She had never understood the old adage about eavesdroppers hearing no good about themselves, but now she realized how true the old saying was. Despite knowing that the voices belonged to children not much older or younger than her brothers, their intent sent a chill down her spine, their obvious dislike of her making her want to cry. She must have made a sound because the next thing she knew, a warm hand had captured hers and Peter spoke softly in the darkness.

“I won't let them hurt you Wendy. I'm the captain here and what I say is the law. Don't be afraid.”

Taking care to make as little sound as possible, Wendy turned over so that she faced Peter, his face barely discernible in the gloom.

“You are making a habit of being in my bed, Peter Pan!” Wendy whispered, both angry and immeasurably pleased that he was by her side.

“Well it was my bed first,” Peter argued, also whispering.

“They don't want me here Peter,” Wendy whispered back, “they don't like me.”

“They don't know you Wendy. I want you here and that's all thats important.”

“Am I to be your servant, your maid?”

“No.”

“Then.....” Wendy swallowed. “Did you bring me here to marry me?”

“NO!” Peter hissed, only just stopping himself from shouting the word out loud.

“Then why did you bring me here? If you don't know, how do you expect them to understand?”

“They don't need to understand, they just have to obey orders.”

“Well that won't work.......maybe I should just go home.”

“No. Wendy....please. I want you to stay...to stay with me. You've seen them, they're children, not like you. I need you.....I....”

“Alright Peter......I'll stay, at least for a little while. But what are you going to do about them?”

“Leave them to me Wendy.” Peter's whispered affirmation went a long way in dispelling some of Wendy's trepidation. They lay facing each other, an inch apart, wrapped in the cocoon of the bed, lost in the moment. Leaning forward, Peter pressed his lips to hers, the darkness making the experience more exciting as Wendy responded and tilted her head to give him greater access. Where it would all have led was never to be found out as a loud noise beyond the alcove jerked them apart and Peter swept back the animal skin curtain before leaping off the bed to face his band of boys.

The Lost Boys sat on the floor of the Hollow in a ragged circle. As one they rose to their feet and faced their leader. The tallest stepped forward and pointed a grubby finger at Wendy who sat on the side of the bed watching.

“What's with her Peter? Is she staying for good?”

“What's it to you Crate if she is?”

The younger boy bristled and drew himself up to increase his height. Even so, he was a good inch shorter than Peter who remained relaxed but alert, his arms folded over his chest as he waited for Crate to speak.

“Is she to be our skivvy or your.....” Crate didn't finish, just looked over at Wendy and leered horribly.

Peter remained unperturbed, shifting his weight from one hip to the other as if uncaring of the answer. Wendy sat tensely and watched with wide eyes.

“If Wendy wants to help out with the chores that's up to her to decide. As for the other......that's none of your damn business Crate. I'm Captain and what I say goes......unless you want to issue a challenge?”

“Oh no Peter, Crate didn't mean.....” one of the other boys spoke up only to be silenced by a look from the taller boy.

“I don't need you speakin' on my behalf Grub....I can speak for myself.”

“Yes.......I noticed.” Peter dropped his relaxed stance and stood with his arms at his sides, his muscles tense. “Choose your weapons Crate and lets get this over with.”

For a second the group of boys stared wide eyed at Peter, then suddenly they started to whoop and holla, jumping up and down and rushing around the Hollow in what seemed to Wendy to be a chaotic scramble. Peter and Crate stood still among the chaos while the others leapt and gamboled about them. Totally confused, Wendy slid off the bed and stood clutching at the skin curtain for support.

“What's happening?” She asked, Peter half turning his head to acknowledge her question.

“Crate has issued a challenge, and I must answer it. It won't take long.”

“A challenge...you mean a duel?”

“Stupid mort......we're going to fight of course!” Crate snarled, his dark eyes never leaving Peter's face. “I choose daggers and rope.”

“I agree.” Peter's answer was almost drowned out by the howling boys, the noise like wolves as they scattered about the room, disappearing up a series of concealed tunnels towards the outside. Crate was the last to leave, sauntering over to his bed and collecting his knife. Tossing it casually into the air, Crate left the Hollow via a concealed tunnel leaving Peter and Wendy alone. With Crate's departure, Peter turned to face Wendy, his body losing it's tense stance as he approached the bed. Wendy stared at him wide eyed, not at all sure of what she'd just witnessed.

“Peter, are you really going to fight that boy?”

“It's the law Wendy. He challenged, I accepted.”

“But.....but.....”

“Don't you think I can win?” Peter asked, pulling a rueful expression.

“Of course you'll win. You're taller, stronger and you can fly.”

“Yes, I suppose those could all be advantages, but then you've never seen Crate fight.”

“Is he good?”

“The best there ever was in hand to hand combat.”

“Oh Peter......you don't really mean to hurt each other, do you?”

“You'll just have to watch and find out.”

Rummaging among the furs, Peter produced a leather scabbard which he attached to his vine belt before holding out his hand for Wendy to take. “Come on, they'll be waiting for us.” Once more he led her up the spiral staircase carved within the heart of the tree, the journey seeming to be much shorter this time. Wendy had to shade her eyes when they stepped through the bark doorway, the sun still high in the sky despite the passage of time since she'd arrived. Peter dropped her hand and led the way towards a path that disappeared into the jungle. Wendy followed, all the while looking around and wondering where the Lost Boys were hiding. After a short walk they arrived as what looked like an earthen amphitheater. The bowl like depression had gently sloping grass covered sides and a large circular beaten earth floor. The Lost Boys were seated around the grassy edge while Crate stood in the center of the circle of flattened dirt, tossing his knife repeatedly into the air and catching it. Each toss made the blade catch the sun, flashing wickedly sharp before being caught deftly by its owner again.

“Stay up here Wendy.........this shouldn't take long.”

“Be careful Peter......” Wendy whispered, standing on tiptoe to press a quick kiss to his cheek. Peter grinned and turned to leave, jumping down the broad grassy steps to reach the bottom of the amphitheater while the other Lost Boy's scattered to seat themselves at vantage points around the terraces. Wendy seated herself on the grass and tucked her skirts around her, her hands shaking a little at the prospect of the fight to come. Peter looked relaxed and confident as he stood while one of the Lost Boys bound his left wrist to the other boys' forearm, their difference in height now not so apparent. Peter had drawn his knife and held it in his right hand. The remaining Lost boys seemed to have split themselves into two groups, one to cheer on Crate, the others to cheer their Captain, Peter. Wendy sat in splendid isolation and watched the proceeding with interest and a little fear. The boy that had bound Peter and Crates wrists now stood back and raised his arms to silence the watchers.

“The first to draw blood is the winner,” the boy announced, waiting for the combatants to nod their agreement before continuing. “If Captain Pan wins, then she stays, unharmed and unmolested. If Crate wins, she's out of here!” His speech finished, the boy scrambled out of the arena and seated himself with his friends. Almost at once the boys started up chants to encourage and support their side of the fight, the air filled with shrill voices and loud shouting. Wendy watched in horrid fascination as the two young men, bound together, started to circle around each other, their bound arms held out at full length to give them room to move. The shorter boy gave his arm a sharp tug, pulling Peter closer while at the same time snaking out his right arm to aim his blade at Peter's mid-drift. Wendy pressed her fingers to her mouth to stop herself screaming as the sun caught the wicked blade as it sliced in an arc aimed at Peter's ribs. Pan danced out of reach, the dirt at his feet puffing up in clouds as both fighters pulled and shifted to bring the other closer to the exposed blades. This shuffling dance went on for several seconds while they tested their balance and strength, both staring intently at the other, the jeering crowd watching all but forgotten as they concentrated on the other's blade. Knife blades flashed towards each other at the same time, the clash of metal on metal ringing out as the two boys circled and parried, the dust rising up to obscure Wendy's view of the fight as the combatants jerked and circled each other in a fierce struggle for supremacy. To Wendy it seemed the barbaric dance would never end, but even as she thought it Peter somehow managed to twist his arm and throw Crate off balance, the shorter boy landing on his back from a clever leg tackle by his opponent, Peter ending up straddling Crates chest, his knife pressed to the boys throat. All around the arena both groups of Lost Boys cheered and whooped, saluting both the victor and the vanquished, Wendy only able to stand there and clap her delight in Peter winning the fight.

“Do you surrender?” Peter asked, his chest heaving from the wrestle to lay Crate down.

“Never!” Crate hissed, the press of Peter's knife against his throat not restraining him one whit.

“Then first blood it is,” Peter announced, pressing home his blade and drawing a thin line across the boys neck. Blood instantly welled from the cut and another cheer rose from the onlookers. Peter then cut the rope binding their wrists and climbed up off his adversary, holding out his hand for Crate to take to help him up. Hesitating only a second, Crate took Peter's hand and leapt nimbly to his feet. Both boys were liberally coated in dust and sweat, the trickle of blood very bright against Crates pale skin.

“You win Peter.....the gentry mort stays.”

“Unmolested and unharmed?”

“As you say,” Crate agreed, taking Peter's hand and clasping it briefly before turning away to face his supporters. Peter wiped his blade on his trousers before sheathing it at his belt. Looking up he saw Wendy still standing where he left her, her hands clasped together and held in front of her mouth. Jumping into the air he flew up to where she stood, landing gently beside her, his face split with a triumphant grin.

“I won!”

“I saw.” Wendy was still staring down at the group of Lost Boy's milling around Crate. “I've never seen a fight before.....”

“Oh that was nothing. You should have seen the fight I had when Jack wanted to be the Pan. That was much worse.”

“Which one is Jack?” Wendy asked, scanning the collection of boys below them.

“Jack's no longer one of the Lost Boys,” Peter stated, staring pensively down at the younger boys milling about the arena.

“He's dead?” Wendy asked, shocked at the thought that Peter might have killed another boy.

“No, worse. He joined Hook's crew and became a pirate.”

“A pirate?”

“Black Jack they call him now,” Peter looked up at the sky above their heads, his mood unreadable. “It'll be dark soon, and I need to wash off this dirt. Come with me?”

“Alright.” Wendy slipped her hand into his and they lifted off into the air, the arena and Lost Boys left far behind as they flew over the tops of the trees. Peter flew them to a clearing which held a pool at its heart, the edge fringed with reeds and bull-rushes. On one side was a shallow gravel beach leading down into the water. On the opposite side was a heaped cairn of rounded boulders that reached up over the pool for nearly twenty feet. It looked strange in the middle of the clearing but Wendy didn't worry about the geological oddity as she touched down on the short turf, Peter letting go of her hand straight away.

“Last one in is a rotten egg!” Peter crowed, galloping away to clamber up the rocky pile only to leap off into space and plunge into the pool, Wendy's cry of alarm unheard above the tremendous splash of water. Peter's head appeared on the surface and he quickly dived out of sight again, his body slicing through the clear water like a golden carp. Wendy approached the pool from the shallow beach, her toes digging into the gravel and she extended her foot to test the temperature of the water. Peter appeared in the shallows and started to splash water at her, making her laugh and scream.

“Stop it Peter, I don't want to get wet!”

“Why not.....the water's warm and clear and your feet are dirty.” He scooped up a handful of water and doused her, making Wendy dodge back out of range.

“No really Peter....I don't want a bath.....please!”

“Aw...come on Wendy. You can swim, can't you?”

“Well actually.......no, I can't.”

For a moment Peter looked taken aback by her answer, his eyebrows knotting as he pondered what to do next. Wendy stood shaking out her nightdress to dry it from the few water droplets scattered about the hem, not paying attention to what Peter was doing. Her inattention was her downfall when she found herself scooped up and flung over Peter's shoulder so that her head hung down his back.

“Put me down!” Wendy shrieked as Peter started to wade back into the water, unhindered by Wendy's kicking legs.

“As you wish m'lady,” Peter answered, flipping Wendy off his shoulder and on to her back in the shallow water. Flailing, Wendy found herself half submerged and thoroughly soaked, her hair blinding her as she cried out at her sudden wetting.

“Oh you beast....I'm soaked now, and only this nighty to my name. What am I supposed to wear while this dries, I'd like to know?”

Peter lay in the shallows on his stomach beside her, his head gleaming wetly in the sunlight. Unrepentant he grinned up at her, his eyes dancing.

“You could wear something like what I wear,” Peter suggested, idly twirling his finger in the water as a small raft of green leaves floated past him. Wendy also noted the leaves floating on the surface of the water and glanced down at Peter's legs, noting that more of his skin appeared to be showing than normal.

“Er....Peter....are your leaves supposed to be coming off like that?” She pointed to the increasing number of leaves floating on the surface of the water. Peter glanced at them and shrugged.

“Oh yes......they do that if they get wet. I just get myself another suit of leaves when I need them.”

“But.....er....do you wear anything other than leaves?” Wendy asked, Peter looking at her blankly for a moment. “I mean, do you were......underclothes, under the leaves?”

“What?” Peter asked, staring down at himself then over his shoulder as more leaves floated past. “Oh no....nothing at all usually.”

“Oh dear.......oh dear......” Wendy started to mutter, scrambling to her feet and hastily retreating from the pool, her nighty clinging wetly to her body. “Oh dear....” she continued to murmur as she plucked at the wet material to stop it clinging so closely to her outline. “I think I'd better leave you to your bath Peter.......I'll wait for you....er.....over there.” She indicated a large clump of shrubby plants near to the edge of the clearing, averting her eyes from the golden youth still lounging in the shallows, surrounded by a growing flotilla of green leaves.

“Wendy?”

“I'll be over here.......” Wendy hurried over to the bushes and turned her back on the pool, her face scarlet as she contemplated just how many leaves Peter must be wearing, or not wearing by now.

Back at the pool, Peter shrugged again before turning around and plunging into the deeper part of the pool, the last of his leaves giving up the unequal struggle of remaining on his body and instead sluicing off with his dive underwater. Peter emerged with only the vines remaining about his body, his leaf trousers completely missing as he trod water and shook his head to free his hair of water. Looking over his shoulder he could see Wendy still standing with her back to the pool apparently absorbed in looking at the leaves of the bushes beside her. Wendy's hurried departure from the pool had only afforded him a brief flash of wet legs and damp dress as she'd run out of the water, her nighty clinging to her limbs and body in places and exciting his curiosity, outlining as it did the dips and hollows of her body in strange ways. Peter was not unaware that girls were put together quite differently than boys, his insatiable curiosity piqued to find out how different Wendy looked under her voluminous dress, the water affording him only a confused and frustrating glimpse. He knew from his association with the Indians that females came in a variety of shapes and sizes and his close handling of Wendy had told his hands that she had many interesting curves that didn't correspond to what he knew of his own body. It was all bound up in these new feelings that seemed to be taking over his mind and heart, all of them conspiring to make him mad with wanting to know everything there was to know about Wendy and how she made him feel. It had been true when he'd told her that love was something he knew little about, or even wanted to know about, but that it offended him was not entirely true. Were all these jumbled feeling and sensations love? He didn't know, but he was willing to find out.

Standing up in the pool he found the water waist deep, his skin now free of sweat and dust, his hair curling damply on his forehead and against his neck. Wading out of the water he quickly lifted into the air and floated quietly over the grass before silently rising up then lowering himself into the embrace of bushes that Wendy seemed to be so interested in.

Wendy had heard the sound of splashing and hoped fervently that Peter hadn't lost all his coverings when she peeped over her shoulder at the pool. Peter was just rising out of the pool and Wendy gasped before shutting her eyes tight and facing forward again, her back to the glade. She could feel her whole body blush as she stood rigidly to attention, her dress drying about her as she waited for the sound of splashing to cease. A breeze blew past her and she heard the rustle of leaves beside her. Opening her eyes she saw Peter standing within the grove of shrubs, his arms held out from his body as he waded amongst the greenery, his head bent as he looked down towards the ground. Wendy tried to shut out from her imagination the image of Peter flying through the air without a stitch on, but it was hard, she had brothers after all and was not unaware of the male anatomy. Now he was walking through the bushes towards her and she didn't know what to do for the best.

“Don't come any closer!” She finally blurted out, holding up her hands to ward him off. Peter looked up in surprise, as if not realizing how close she was to where he stood.

“It's alright, I'll be done in a minute,” he glanced down at himself and grinned, then strode out of the bushes just as Wendy clapped her hands over her eyes and gritted her teeth. She heard Peter laugh then his fingers prising hers from her face. “Look.”

Wendy blinked at him, noting his laughing eyes, then her own drifted down and widened as she noted his new coating of leaves decently covering him in a thick layer from his navel to his knees once more.

“Goodness........how clever! I thought the leaves of this bush looked familiar. This is where you get your outfits?”

“Yes. They could make you a new outfit too, if you wanted one.....like this.” He looked down at himself then up at her.

“Oh no......I'd need more than a pair of trousers.....I mean....well, it wouldn't cover enough!” Wendy protested, blushing anew.

“Silly......they know what you need without you telling them......they're magic bushes.” Peter rolled his eyes and laughed.

“Well of course they are. I've never known bushes in the park do anything like that before. They usually lose their leaves, not stick them to anyone.” Wendy retorted, nettled by his laughter. Still, the idea of wearing a leaf costume did rather appeal. “I suppose if you promise to turn your back and not peek, I could just try. If it doesn't work I could always put my nightdress back on.”

“Go on Wendy.......try it,” Peter encouraged, stepping back and holding out his hand to indicate for her to enter the bushes.

“All right, I will....but you have to promise not to look and turn your back.”

“Cross my heart,” Peter inscribed an invisible cross on his chest with his finger, grinning all the while. “I'll go back to the pool and wait for you there.”

She watched as he swaggered off, whistling loudly to underline his apparent nonchalance and disinterest in the whole affair. She waited for him to reach the bull-rushes before cautiously entering the thicket of shoulder high bushes. They rustles and parted around her, the leaves seeming to stroke against her legs and arms as she entered their sheltering center. Unbuttoning her nightgown she cautiously drew the thick fabric off over her head, the leaves reaching well up to her armpits and clothing her modestly. Even so she ducked down so that only her head was visible, the bushes around her seemingly closing in and surrounding her as if to hide her from prying eyes. It was very odd and most peculiar to be standing in a clump of bushes with no clothes on, her skin prickling as she stood not knowing what was about to happen next. The bushes seemed to shiver and shimmy, the leaves pressing so close to her body that she felt every vein in the surface of the leaves, every tickle and stroke as if the bushes were alive. Thoroughly unnerved she decided to push her way out of the bushes and away from the unsettling sensations. As she emerged she found that the leaves were coming with her, her body clothed from shoulder to knee with a thick layer of shimmering leaves, one shoulder and arm left bare while the other had leaves down to the elbow. The green swathe of living cloth covered her chest down to just below her breasts, leaving her mid-drift bare to her navel, then they extended from her waist down over her hips, tightly molded to her thighs and legs down to her knees like a pair of breeches. Against her skin it all felt like the softest velvet, moving when she moved and stretching when she stretched. On the outside she looked much like Peter in his leaf-green, with the addition of a thick layer of leaves covering her chest. It was warm and very comfortable and after her initial misgivings that the whole ensemble would fall of at the slightest tug, a quick experiment set her mind at rest and she stepped out fully, twirling to show off her new outfit.

“Peter.....you can look now,” she called, holding her arms out and turning, twisting her neck to see over her own shoulder to her shockingly bare back, the leaves stopping at her sides and starting again just above the base of her spine. Her hair hung down that far and covered the bare skin of her back quite adequately. Peter walked slowly over from the pool, his eyes ranging over her new clothes in obvious admiration. As she turned around for his approval he slowly circled her, his gaze drinking in her pale, slender arms and legs, her golden brown hair swirling like a cape about her shoulders.

“You look beautiful,” he finally stated, standing with his hands on his hips as he surveyed her from top to toe.

“It is all very strange. Ladies don't ordinarily wear knee breeches, you know. Although I will admit I did try on John's trousers one day, just to see what it was like. It was very shocking.”

“And how do you feel now?” He asked, his hand coming out to stroke over the leaves at her hip. They were of a lighter shade than his own, and felt much softer to his touch, almost like the feel of the softest leather.

“Very comfortable, much more so than John's breeches,” Wendy laughed, twirling again before stopping to smooth the layer of leaves over her waist and hips, preening under Peter's approving gaze.

“Then if you're done, we'll go back to the tree and see about something to eat,” Peter announced, jumping into the air and preparing to take off. Wendy hurriedly gathered up her nightgown and folded it into a neat bundle before tucking it under her arm. Remembering to think of a happy something, she felt herself lift off the turf and into the air, following Peter as he slowly rose until he hung suspended above the trees. Wendy followed more slowly, her confidence building as she rose higher and higher, her parcel held secure against her body.

With her clothing taken care of for the immediate future, Wendy concentrated on watching Peter and learning how to control her ability to fly, while wondering what her mother would say if she could see her daughter flying in the air clothed in nothing but leaves and a silly smile.

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Chapter: Three - The Banquet
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Peter took Wendy on a different route back to the Hollow, showing her other places of interest, some distant spirals of smoke indicating the location of the Indian village, a destination Peter promised to show her the next day. As soon as they both touched down the tree and surrounding foliage once more erupted with the appearance of the Lost Boys, Crate heading the posse as they surrounded their leader and Wendy.

“Wotcha Peter,” called one of the boys, grinning from ear to ear. Peter turned to Wendy and indicated the cheeky boy.

“This is Top Hat.”

Wendy stared at the boys' head gear and thought how appropriate his name, even if his hat was showing distinct signs of significant wear to the point of almost losing it's black crown.

“How do you do?” Wendy asked politely, the boy executing a small bow, the grin firmly in place. After that each of the other boys wanted to be introduced and Peter signaled each one forward in his turn.

“This is Stretch,” Peter told her, indicating a thin, willowy boy with an elfin face, his bare arms well defined and belying his fragile appearance.

“I looks weak, but I'm tough as old boots......ain't I Peter?” Peter nodded in agreement.

“I'm sure you are,” Wendy agreed, thinking privately that the boy looked as if he could do with a good meal once in a while.

“This one if called Rat,” Peter indicated one of the smaller boys, the child's pointed face almost twitching like his name-sake. “He's the best at getting into small and difficult places, and sniffing out the best game trails as well as setting traps.”

“How do you do Rat,” Wendy inclined her head, the boy called Rat giving her a nervous smile before scuttling off to hide behind the others. The next boy appeared to bristle with weaponry, his outfit of skins and feathers looking fierce and intimidating, made all the more by his beefy frame and bright red hair.

“Name's Squid,” the boy announced, not waiting for Peter to speak, “I'm the points man and tracker. Best of the bunch for setting an ambush and coshing the enemy.”

“I'm sure you are, Squid,” Wendy replied, shooting a glance at Peter before giving the boy a smile. Squid didn't smile back but instead cleared his throat noisily before spitting a wad of mucus an impressive distance.

“And I can spit the furthest, so there!” Squid announced before turning his back and swaggering behind his mates.

Crate was the next to push himself forward, his chin thrust upwards belligerently. He stood staring at Wendy as if daring her to make a comment, Peter remaining quiet as the boy and Wendy faced off.

“Hello Crate...that is your name, isn't it?”

“It is. I'm the eldest and been here the longest of the boys. I'm Peter's first mate and best fighter.”

“As you showed us all today Crate. Is my being here going to be a problem?” Wendy eyed the scowling boy with some misgivings, his dark eyes searing her. “Do you hate me so much?”

Abruptly Crate's expression cleared and he looked down at his feet. “Don't hate you,” he muttered, scuffing his feet, “just, girls are always so bossy and wantin' a bloke to always wash his neck and mind 'is manners.”

Wendy manfully controlled the nervous giggles welling up in her throat, the boy in front of her obviously trying hard not to insult his leaders new companion. “If I promise not to mention your neck or your manners?” Wendy asked, exchanging a glance with Peter who had remained silent throughout the conversation.

“Guess that would be alright.....seein' as 'ow your wearing the green, does that mean your going to be our mother?”

Wendy gasped and choked a little. “I'm a little young to be anyone's mother Crate.....” she felt a small hand tug at the leaves at her hip. Looking down she saw the smallest member of the Lost Boys staring up at her from his grubby face, huge brown eyes pleadingly begging her.

“Please be our mother.....I miss mine, an' if the other's wos truthful, they'd tell you they miss theirs, an' all.”

“What's your name?” Wendy asked. Peter answered, his lips quirking up at the corners.

“That's Grub.....he looks small and innocent but he's the best thief in the gang. He'd lift the hair off your head and you'd never know it was going!”

Wendy stared down at the small boy, his face now lit with a wide, gap-toothed grin, bathing in Peter's approval and approbation. “Just as well I have nothing worth stealing then, isn't it?”

Peter was looking around the glade for the last member of the troop, seeing a tousled head hiding behind the broad trunk of the Hollow tree. “Come on out Harry and meet Wendy....what'cha hiding for, back there?”

Harry appeared in answer to Peter's summons, the slender boy shuffling forward to stand at the front of the group. He was almost as tall as Crate, but much more delicate looking, the shaggy cut black hair brushed forward to almost obscure the fine featured face. Blue eyes peered at Wendy out from under the thick fringe.

“Hello Harry....I hope you weren't hiding from me?”

“No.” Harry flicked his shadowed gaze over to Peter then back to Wendy. “Are you going to marry Peter an' have babies and stuff?”

“Good Lord,” Wendy blushed furiously, her startled gaze taking in the interested looks of the boys and the amused look painting Peter's face. “Well, as I said before, I think I'm too young to be anyone's mother, let alone my have my own children.”

“But you could marry Peter, couldn't you? If you love him, of course?”

“Oh I don't think.......that is.......well......this really isn't the time to........oh dear........um...” Wendy trailed off, her face as pink as a strawberry.

“Okay you lot.....enough with the questions. Who's on provisions duty tonight?” Peter's voice broke in to the pregnant pause after Harry's unanswerable question. Immediately the boys broke out into a chorus of replies and recriminations, refuting ownership of the chores needed to be done and generally blaming everyone but themselves for no supper on the table. Harry had melted back into the throng while Wendy spun on her heel and walked a way a few steps, fanning herself to bring her hot face under control. Having dispatched the boys with orders to get a meal on the table, Peter casually walked over to where Wendy stood. She was standing with her hands pressed to her cheeks in a vain attempt to leach the wash of color from her skin, giving a startled jump when Peter laid his warm hand on her shoulder.

“Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. Are you alright?”

“Yes....of course. It's just a little warm, don't you think?”

“Certainly warmer than your world,” Peter quipped, coming around to face her, his stormy green eyes intent on her face. “Would it be so bad to marry me?”

“Peter, how can you ask that?” Wendy answered breathlessly, her fading blush returning with a vengeance.

“Well?”

“I don't know you.....and....and...I'm only supposed to be here for a visit, not forever.”

“I know enough, why don't you?”

“Because.....well because I don't. Good grief, I've heard of brief courtships, but this is ridiculous. And anyway......you haven't asked me!”

“If I did........would you say yes?”

Totally flustered, Wendy spun away from him, her eyes darting around the glade for some sort of escape. Peter wouldn't give up and darted around to stand in front of her again. Wendy couldn't understand how the conversation had progressed so far out of control and tried to push past him. Peter pushed back and Wendy found herself held in place by his grip on her upper arms.

“You like to kiss me......don't you?” He asked, his eyes locked with hers. Wendy felt her knees start to weaken as she moistened her lips before replying.

“I.....yes.”

“And you don't mind sleeping next to me?”

“Peter, that's hardly proper....”

“Don't you?”

“No....I don't mind.”

“Then you don't mind the idea of being married to me, do you?”

“What?” Wendy asked confusedly. Peter shook her lightly.

“Isn't that what married people do? They kiss and sleep in the same bed and stay together forever?”

“I suppose so...but....but....”

“And now you can fly and Neverland has obviously accepted you.....” Peter continued, his face breaking out into the wickedest grin.

“Wait a minute.....what do you mean Neverland's accepted me? How do you know?”

Peter's gaze flicked down to take in her new outfit, so similar, but not the same as his. “Why do you think the Lost Boys have to run around in animal skins and feathers? The bushes don't clothe just anyone, in fact, as far as I know, I'm the only one that they do this for......before you.”

“Oh,” Wendy's lips remained shaped around that simple reply, dumbfounded to have been chosen by an entire world to be worthy. Worthy of what she wasn't about to question too deeply. Taking advantage of her distraction, Peter swooped down and captured her pursed lips with his own, his tongue darting out and touching hers in a delightfully sinful way that made goose bumps break out all over Wendy's body. The kiss lasted for several seconds before a snort of disgust behind them drew them apart, Peter looking over his shoulder to find Grub standing a little way off, his face screwed up into an expression of extreme repugnance.

“Well that looked truly 'orrible. Is that wot married people do? Try an' suck each uvver's faces off?” Grub asked, blowing out his cheeks and making gagging sounds.

“What do you want Grub?” Peter asked, letting his hands drop from Wendy's arms and folding them instead over his chest before frowning down at the smallest member of the Lost Boys.

“The boys said to tell you.......an' 'er......”

“Wendy,” Peter corrected.

“Wendy....that the blanket is ready for you, if'n you want to come and scoff.”

“Thank you Grub......we'll be along directly.”

Peter waited for Grub to disappear through one of the trees' many hidden entrances before turning back to Wendy. He leant forward to resume what they'd been doing before Grub interrupted, but Wendy nimbly danced out of his reach.

“Blanket?” Wendy asked, dodging to the side when Peter made to lunge at her, his teeth bared in a teasing grin.

“I think Grub meant banquet,” Peter explained, his arms out wide to snag Wendy as she made to dodge past him. Catching her about the waist, he picked her up off the ground and swung her around before dropping her back on to her feet again. Wendy was laughing, the sound abruptly cut off when Peter bent down and hoisted her once more over his shoulder, her legs kicking while she pummeled his back with her fists.

“Let me down you.....you.....brute!” Wendy gasped between giggles, Peter swatting her leaf covered bottom before upending her on to her feet once more. She staggered a little and Peter held her steady while she pushed her hair out of her face from being upside down moments before.

“That was a dirty trick Peter......you're so much stronger than me!”

“And you're lighter than a feather and so easy to tease,” Peter replied, darting away when Wendy made to rabbit-punch him on the arm. “Come on, I'm hungry and I'm sure you are by now.”

“I have to admit, although a lady would never say so......but I'm ravenous!”

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The Hollow was the picture of chaos when Wendy and Peter appeared. The boys were racing around the cavern, a large trestle table now dominating the center of the room. As each passed the table they dropped an empty wooden platter or bowl onto the scarred and scratched surface, the noise of the boys' haphazard table dressing adding to the general cacophony. Peter passed a hand over his face before bunching his fists on his hips and roaring a command for silence. Everyone froze for a second, eyes swiveling to their leader. A second later they resumed their peculiar table setting, this time in relative quiet, even setting down the last of the bowls and plates with a more gentle hand. As Wendy, led by Peter, approached the table the Lost Boys scrambled for their stools then sat watching Peter expectantly. Wendy, bemused and a little bewildered, sat in the chair Peter indicated, the table in front of her almost covered in a strange collection of carved, but quite empty, clean wooden bowls of differing shapes and sizes. Peter took his seat at the head of the table, sending Wendy a warm smile before plopping down in his chair. The boys now looked at their leader in mute appeal, very much like a gang of puppies faced with a mountain of food and waiting for the office to start digging in. To Wendy the bowls and plates all looked empty and she wondered if, belatedly, she was expected to produce the food they waited for. Instead she looked down the table at Peter and tried to catch his eye in silent inquiry. Peter saw her look and just grinned, turning his attention to assessing the boys ranged down either side of the long table.

“Stretch.....your turn tonight.”

“Really Peter?.....Oh bang on!” Stretch exchanged grins with his table mates before rising to his feet and standing with his hands braced on the table edge. The other boys looked expectantly at Stretch, licking their lips as if he was the main course of their intended meal. Wendy watched mystified, Peter dropping her a slow wink and silently telling her to wait. Stretch closed his eyes and she could see his lips moving, a whoop startling her and drew her attention back to the length of the table only to find that the formerly empty bowls were now piled high with food of a staggering variety. The Lost Boys were digging their hands in to mounds of steaming, fragrant meat and vegetables, every bowl and platter full to overflowing with vittles. Wendy gasped and stared round eyed at the banquet laid out before her. One second the table had been empty, now it was groaning under it's laden surface, steam and delicious smells filling the Hollow and making her mouth water.

“Dig in Wendy.....help yourself,” Peter's voice broke in to her stupor and she stared down the table at him.

“How?” She asked, watching in fascination as Rat stuffed his mouth so that his cheeks bulged like his namesake.

“Magic,” Peter stated simply, reaching across and snagging what looked like nearly a whole cooked chicken off the mound in front of him. “It was Stretch's turn to choose and this is what he imagined.”

“Imagined?” Wendy squeaked, looking in appalled disappointment at the mountains of food, “then this isn't real?”

“A real as you want it to be......try something!”

Curious but wary, Wendy stared at the bowls of food and tried to select something that hadn't suffered too badly from the boys depredations. As nearly everything was being eaten with their fingers, Wendy was a little put off by the state of the boys hands, no attempt having been made to wash up before the meal. To her surprise a bowl of water seemed to appear at her elbow, the surface steaming a little. Cautiously Wendy touched the water with a fingertip, finding the liquid just right for washing. Dipping her hands fully into the finger bowl she vigorously cleaned her hands, shaking them afterwards and wiping them dry on a tiny hand towel that appeared off to the side. Peter looked on in open amusement while the boys gaped at their guest as she finished her ablutions. Her ritual concluded, the bowl and crumpled towel disappeared when Wendy looked away, her surprise to find them gone a second later making Peter laugh out loud. Nettled by his amusement at her ignorance, Wendy ignored him and lifted a small wooden bowl to scoop out some delicious looking rice and vegetable mixture in a bowl largely untouched by the ravenous horde. Among the scattered receptacles on the table she spotted a delicately carved spoon, proving perfect for her to eat her meal with. Down at his end, Peter had finished his demolition of the chicken, the bones magically vanishing once he set the waste bowl aside, his attention all on Wendy and her quiet way of eating, so different from the way the boys ripped, stuffed and crammed their food as fast as possible into their mouths. Picking up a small bowl for himself, he carefully scooped out a serving of savory smelling stew from a big cauldron in the center of the table which had remained untasted until now. Still watching the way Wendy ate, Peter sat back in his chair and stared down at the stew. On any other day he would have brought the bowl to his mouth and pushed the contents into his mouth with his fingers. Today he decided to try something different. Looking down he saw the end of a spoon half hidden behind a bowl. Picking it up he leant over his bowl of stew, gripped his spoon in his fist and dug in.

Looking up from her own meal, Wendy was surprised to see Peter emulating her at his end of the table. Unlike the boys, he was spooning his food into his mouth, his blond head bent over his bowl in obvious concentration as he carefully ate. As if feeling her gaze, Peter lifted his head and met her eyes down the length of the table. They stayed staring at each other for a long minute, spoons poised before lips, each a mirror image of the other. Then one of the boys burped loudly, and the moment was broken, Wendy ducking her head and Peter slowly resuming his first attempt at polite eating. The meal was noisy but blessedly short, the younger boys quickly stuffing themselves to the full before reeling away from the table one after another to collapse groaning on their sleeping ledges, leaving Peter and Wendy alone at the table. The table itself was like a battle field with tipped over bowls and food splattered all over the surface. Only down Wendy's end was there any semblance of order or a cleared space. Having eaten her fill, Wendy sipped at a wooden beaker, the fruit juice inside cool and sweet as it slipped down her throat.

Peter sat back in his own chair and rubbed his stomach, his hand reaching for a mug and emptying the contents into his mouth. Setting the mug back on the table he reached up to wipe the back of his hand across his lips as he usually did, but just as he was about to, Wendy caught his eye and shook her head. It was the tiniest of movements but enough to forestall Peter, his hand dropping from his face. Looking for something else to use, he saw a piece of cloth poking out from under one of the discarded plates at his elbow. Pulling it out, he swiped it over his mouth, Wendy indicating her approval with an incline of her head. All around the room she could hear the groans and soft moans of over stuffed boys, the seemingly everlasting lamps flickering around the wall starting to automatically reduce their flames, imbuing the Hollow with shadows in preparation for the Lost Boy's sleeping. Both Wendy and Peter, having slept earlier on, were not remotely tired, Peter already thinking on the places he would take Wendy once the boys were truly asleep. Thinking along similar lines, Wendy rose from her chair and came to sit on a vacated stool beside Peter.

“Do you think the boys would like to hear a bedtime story?” She asked, ignoring the heaped mountain of washing up spread over the table. Peter rested his elbows on the table and leant forward towards her.

“Do you know a bedtime story? If you did, it would surely send them off to sleep. Then I can take you out to see Neverland after dark.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Wendy giggled.

“I know many stories. I used to tell them to my brothers when they were little......” she tailed off, mention of her brothers making her remember the family left behind in London. Her throat suddenly felt tight and her eyes burned as she fought the urge to cry, reminding herself that she was only here for a visit, not forever. Lifting her head, she smiled brightly at Peter, ignoring the crease of inquiry begging a question in his expression. “I know stories about kings and queens and princes and princesses, ogres and giants, pirates and mermaids”.

“Am I in any of those stories?” Peter asked, grinning back.

“Not those stories.....but you could be?” Wendy replied, lowering her eyes. “I could tell new stories, with you as the hero, if you wanted.”

“I'd like that.” He smiled warmly at her, reaching out a finger to smooth against her cheek as she stared back at him expectantly. “But for the time being, I think a story would be an excellent idea. I used to know a girl,” his brow creased as he tried to remember, “ a long time ago, who used to tell stories.......but they never were about me.” Getting to his feet, Peter addressed the room and it's occupants. “Wendy has offered to tell a story, what do ya say boys?”

At once the moaning and groaning ceased and the boys sent up a chorus of excited replies, Wendy finding herself pulled and propelled to sit on the mossy carpet, a semi circle of eager faces surrounding her. All trace of lethargy had gone and all of them focused their bright, intent gazes on the girl at their center. Wendy, flattered by their obvious eagerness, folded her hands in her lap and closed her eyes, mentally sorting through her varied collection of stories, picking one that would hold their interest. While the small audience settled down, Peter sat himself on his barbarous throne, his gaze intent on Wendy so that when she opened her eyes, his were the first she met.

“Once upon a time there was a young man who lived in the mystical far East and his name was Ali Baba.....”

Wendy's choice of story might have seemed strange, dealing as it did with thieves and cutthroats and a fair degree of violence, but she'd had plenty of experience with what small boys really wanted to hear about, and from the excited glow on the faces ranged in front of her, her choice had been the right one. There would be plenty of nights when a less bloodthirsty story would be more suitable, but for now she had her audience hooked. The boys were not passive as the story unfolded, they added their own comments and opinions on the characters and their actions, snorting in disgust if they disagreed, whooping if they applauded the heroes' actions. In all it was a rowdy and boisterous story-time, the ending greeted with a volley of requests for another story until Peter had to intervene and order his Lost Boys to bed; but only a promise of another story the next night finally sent the tired children off to their alcoves and couches. Grub was the last to leave, approaching Wendy where she sat, his piquant, grubby face lit up with a happy smile as he leant down the short distance to whisper in her ear.

“I liked that one.......no yucky stuff!”

Wendy looked back a little startled, having embellished the story with enough gore and yucky stuff to satisfy a classroom of small boys. “Yucky stuff?”

Grub pulled a face, “you know.........kissing!”

“Oh......you don't like stories with happy endings?”

Grub seemed to think for a moment. “Well....maybe once in a while would be alright.”

Peter approached and shooed Grub away, the smallest of the troop clambering into a hammock suspended from two thick roots that seemed to have grown expressly for the purpose of providing hooks for the sling to hang from. Holding out his hand, Peter drew Wendy to her feet before casting a look around the room. The lights were very low now, barely flickering as he led her out of the Hollow and up into the world above. It was night time, the sky still bearing the traces of a glorious sunset, streaks of pink and purple coloring the grey clouds that made their slow progress across the sky. Behind them stars were starting to appear, bright dots that twinkled like diamonds, not all of them white so that when the sun had completely left the sky, it was like a necklace of rubies and opals strung up among the heavens. Peter drew Wendy along behind him, her hand firmly clasped in his as they walked through the jungle beyond the Hollow. The path was narrow and crowded on either side with thick vegetation, forcing them to follow one behind the other, but not very far along the path widened and Peter drew Wendy to walk beside him. Despite the sun being set for the day, light still suffused the forest, a cool light, like that from a full moon, despite there being nothing but stars in the sky. Wendy pondered on this but quickly gave up worrying about it as the jungle at night took all her attention, the sounds so different from the daytime with the birds all settled for the night. Instead she could hear the rustle of the wind through the branches overhead above the soft pad of their bare feet on the ground. The scent of night flowering blossoms invaded her senses, surrounding them with varying clouds of perfumed air as they walked, Wendy sniffing appreciatively but never able to pinpoint the shrub or tree that provided the source. Their promenade ended when they reached a cleared rocky outcrop, a ledge that ended like a giant step above a slope clothed in trees. On either side the jungle pressed right up to the edge of the drop-off, leaving only the apron of rock they stood on clear of the undergrowth, the ledge giving its visitors a wonderful view across Neverland to the sea. Wendy stood a little way back from the edge, having no wish to see just how high up they were. She was surprised at herself to feel the fear of heights given that she'd flown over the island at some distance above it, but somehow, having her feet on the solid ground had changed her perspective. Peter had no such qualms and quite calmly sat on the edge of the precipice, his legs swinging in space as he leant back on his hands, twisting his head to look up at her.

“What do you think?”

“It's a wonderful view Peter, even at night. It would be spectacular in daylight.”

“Nah.....its better at night. It's called the Moonlight Ledge, and it's not just the view that makes it special.”

“Oh?”

“Watch.”

Wendy found herself a convenient place to sit, just behind and to the left of Peter. Wrapping her arms around her knees she stared up at the brilliant sky overhead, the air and rocks around her still warm from the sun. Peter had drawn one leg up to rest on the edge of the rocky ledge, his elbow resting on the upraised knee, his head turned away from her as he stared out over the vista below.

“Look Wendy!” His sibilant whisper jerked her attention back to the view before her, the dark trees below disgorging tiny pin pricks of golden light. At first there were only a half dozen, so far away to be almost invisible, dancing on the edge of their vision among the tree tops. Then, where there were a few, there were suddenly a cloud, a nimbus of golden specks rising up from the trees below, a throng of dancing lights covering a huge area of the forest.

“Oh Peter...what are they? Fireflies?”

“Fairies.”

“Fairies? Oh how wonderful........and so many!”

The increasing cloud of golden lights were starting to coalesce, rising up from the forest canopy in a single swirling mass made up of hundreds, possibly thousands of the tiny creatures. Wendy watched entranced as the glowing mass rose slowly up into the sky, stray individuals breaking off from the central group to dance around the perimeter before being absorbed back into the twirling center. It was like looking at a galaxy in miniature, the center a bright ball of light with the arms of the spiral trailing as fairies tired and then caught up, the whole colony rising ever higher so that they were level with the stone ledge holding their audience of two. As if sensing their silent watchers the golden mass started to break up, groups of fairies detaching themselves from the central spiral and darting off a little way. There they shifted and danced, forming complex shapes in the warm air, pictures forming like spangled Christmas decorations of flowers and butterflies, birds in flight and dragonflies.

“Oh Peter, they're beautiful.....oh look, what is that?” She pointed to a strange creature being created by one of the splinter groups, the shape looking halfway between a dragon and a horse.

“That's a Neverbeen.”

“A Neverbeen? What a strange name!”

“A Neverbeen is a creature that only lives in dreams,” Peter explained, smiling at Wendy's soft exclamation as the dragon-horse changed into another creature of fantastic design. “See, another Neverbeen.”

“I understand. So these strange creatures have never actually been alive, just the product of the fairies imagination.”

“Sort of. Fairies are such tiny creatures they really don't have much room for an imagination, so they borrow from others to give them the images you see here.”

“Borrow? You mean, they go into a person's head and borrow what they find there?”

“Something like that. Anything you can imagine, they can create when they swarm, like tonight.”

“Does this happen every night?”

“No. Only on special occasions or if I ask them to.”

Wendy turned her head to look at Peter's profile, his face bathed in the golden glow of the fairies. “Did you ask them to do this Peter....for me?”

“Maybe. If I say yes, do I get a reward?” He turned his face towards her, his eyes alight with mischief and something else. Wendy saw the fleeting expression and thought it was longing. The fairies were still cavorting and dancing in front of the ledge, bathing the whole area in a warm, golden light, the leaves and trees all around them gilded with gold and sprinkled with a shower of fairy dust, the fine rain falling over everything. For the most part, the whole experience had been conducted in silence, only the soft rustle of a night breeze disturbing the hushed expectancy of the moment. Now, as the huge, constantly moving mass of fairy bodies passed overhead and ever higher, Wendy could hear a cacophony of fairy voices, like the chime of a million tiny bells tinkling musically from a long way away. It almost reminded Wendy of the laughter of young children as the golden cloud passed up and over the tree tops, taking with it the golden light and strange creatures shaped in the air by the fairies themselves. Once more alone on the ledge, Wendy gave vent to a happy sigh, her lips turned up as she stared out over the now darkened landscape. Having shown her what he wanted her to see, Peter clambered to his feet and held out his hand.

“Come on, the night is not over yet.”

“But......I thought you wanted a reward?” She stared at him, torn between embarrassment and anticipation, knowing in her heart what he'd ask for and more than willing to bestow his reward with alacrity.

“I do, but first I want to take you somewhere and show you something,” Peter told her mysteriously. Taking her by the hand he led her back into the jungle, leaving the ledge and vista behind them. Still feeling bemused and wondrous from watching the fairy display, Wendy went willingly, her hand once more held in his much large palm, his fingers curling around hers in a firm, but unbreakable grip. Against her soft skin she could feel the rough callouses ridging his fingers and palm, evidence of his proficiency with a sword, reminding her that not everything on Neverland was as peaceful and non-threatening as the fairies she'd just watched. Peter was leading her down a different path from the one they'd used before, veering off the track and plunging them both into the deep gloom of the dense forest. The light that had seemed so bright before, now struggled to find a way to the ground, the path almost invisible to Wendy's eyes as Peter led her onwards.

“Is it far?” Wendy asked, stumbling a little over the uneven ground.

“Not far,” Peter replied, not turning his head or relaxing his grip on her hand. The path seemed endless, but just when Wendy was about to suggest they fly to their destination, rather than walk, the jungle started to thin, the dark trees growing further apart and letting in more light. Peter started to jog, forcing Wendy to follow, his eagerness to get where he was going transmitting itself through his grip on her hand, laughter bubbling up and making her breathless as they dodged and weaved among the trees. As suddenly as a flame igniting, the trees ended and they were once more bathed in the unearthly pale light of the night, the stars seemingly brighter and closer than a few minutes before, the sky a twinkling expanse of silvery velvet above their heads. In front of them the ground sloped down in an easy gradient, flattening out into a small coastal plain before butting up to a narrow strip of sand where the land met the sea. The coastline along this side of the island wove out and in, creating a frilled effect as well as a series of bays and lagoons of varying sizes and depths. In one of these harbors sat a dark ship, its sails furled black against it's inky spars, a flag flapping lazily from the fighting-top, the insignia indistinct in the pale light. In solitary splendor the ship rode at anchor, no lights visible from the watchers above.

“What ship is that Peter?” Wendy asked in a hushed voice, despite being so far away that no sound could have possibly reached the shore below. Just looking at the darkened ship made a flurry of goose bumps break out on her arms and the back of her neck. Unable to justify why it should she turned to her companion and waited with bated breath for his reply.

“That's the Jolly Roger, the pirate ship that stalks this island,” Peter replied, all trace of levity gone from his voice. “If the ship is here, then Hook won't be far behind. There's no lights fore or aft which means he's already ashore and on the hunt.”

“Pirates?” Wendy felt a shudder ripple down her back, a thrill of fear and of excitement. “What do they hunt so late at night?”

“Me.” Peter stated baldly, his body tense and ready for action. “I was going to show you the Glass Cove, but it will have to wait now. If Hook is about, then no-one is safe. We'll need to go back to the Hollow and warn the Lost Boys to be ready for battle.”

“Really Peter.....is it as bad as that? Even pirates have to sleep.” Wendy tried to laugh off her fears but a searing glance from her suddenly serious partner chased all laughter from her face.

“There's no sleep for anyone when Hook is hunting. Where he goes, the crocodile won't be far behind and he's not adverse to snacking on anyone that gets in his way!”

Disappointed that her evening was to be spoilt by the advent of pirates, Wendy turned away only to find herself face to face with quite possibly the most fearsome visage she'd ever encountered in her young life. As if held in a vice, her throat refused to release the scream she could feel building in her chest, the man leering horrible as he advanced towards her, a gleaming cutlass in his hand. Wendy finally screamed when the pirate lunged at her, the blade almost reaching her only to be thrust upwards with the force of Peter's blocking parry, his free hand shoving Wendy to the side where she fell, cushioned by a clump of bracken.

“Fly Wendy, fly!” Peter shouted at her as he parried another savage downswing of the pirates sword, the air full of the sounds of violence as he fought off their attacker. Wendy lay where he'd pushed her, breathless with fear as she watched the seemingly unequal contest between the brawny, heavily armed pirate and the young man facing him. Peter's teeth gleamed in the strange Neverland night light, his body twisting and turning like an otter to avoid the wicked slashes and thrusts of his opponent while keeping the man well away from where Wendy lay frozen. She heard Peter's order to fly, but couldn't for the life of her think of a single happy thought while the desperate battle played out before her eyes. In all her short life she'd never really seen anything violent or brutal, only in the books she'd read telling of such bloody conflicts, but they were only words on a page, not flesh and blood men fighting for their very lives with her as the only witness. Suddenly it was all over, the pirate finding Peter's knife buried to the hilt in his chest, a look of surprise briefly lighting his dark eyes before slumping to the ground, blood staining his shirt front. Wendy remained transfixed at the sight of Peter standing over his enemy, his chest heaving, blood covering his right hand which clutched the hilt of his dagger with white knuckles. Baring his teeth in gruesome satisfaction, Peter leant down and wiped his blade on the dead man's clothes before turning his back and approaching where Wendy lay. Taking his hand she stared up at him with shocked eyes, noting absently that Peter appeared to crackle with energy, the fight imbuing him with an aura of excitement and anticipation, evident in his bright eyes and tense muscles rippling on his arms and body. Thankfully, for Wendy's peace of mind, Peter extended his left hand to help her to her feet, his grip almost painfully tight as he pulled her away from the corpse and back into the dark forest.

“We need to get back to the Hollow, can you fly?” Peter's voice was almost harsh, firing the question at Wendy in a tone she'd not heard before.

“I can try.....were you hurt?”

“No. But it worries me that he found us, and why only one man? It's possible he was just an advance scout sent by Hook and it was an unlucky chance that he stumbled over us, but I'm not taking any chances. Come on....” Pulling Wendy behind him, he jogged a few steps then leapt into the air, Wendy towed behind him, his magic lifting them both. She was still in a state of shock, her body cold and her stomach queasy as they flew low over the forest canopy as silent as a breeze. Within a short time they were back at the old tree in the secluded glade, the night quiet around them as they approached. Peter had dropped Wendy's hand as soon as they touched down, his sense on the alert for any sign that more pirates were waiting in ambush, his bloody hand gripping the hilt of his dagger with tense expectation. All remained quiet as he searched the shadows, Wendy standing to one side, her arms wrapped around her middle as she fought to quell the tremors still wracking her slender frame. Satisfied that the area was free of danger, Peter pressed the knothole to open the door, waving Wendy forward in silence and ushering her into the darkness of the interior, the door shutting behind them securely. Still in silence they felt their way down the stairwell and into the Hollow, the night-lights around the wall brightening as they emerged , the sound of sleeping boys heavy in the warm air of the safe-house. Wendy stumbled to a stool and sat down heavily, not able to raise the slightest surprise to find the trestle table gone along with its burden of empty dishes and spilled food. Peter went over to his first lieutenant, Crate, and shook the boy roughly by the shoulder. Crate woke instantly and sat up, a knife in his hand ready to defend himself.

“Hook's on the hunt,” Peter told him, his grim expression enough to tell Crate all he needed to know.

“What's the plan Captain?” Crate asked, swinging his legs off the bed and rubbing his eyes.

“Wake the boys and we'll have a counsel of war.”

“Aye, aye,” Crate sketched a salute before jumping off his sleeping ledge and going to the next bed to wake it's snoring occupant. Peter, meanwhile, was washing off his knife and hands in a bucket of water tucked away in a corner before approaching Wendy who still sat numbly on a stool.

“Come on, you need to rest,” Peter told her, his hands pulling her to her feet, Wendy's eyes darting to his right hand expecting to see blood, and indescribably relieved to see only strong fingers and golden brown skin dusted with fine hairs.

He steered her towards his alcove, his arm about her back to steady her as she leant against him, suddenly weary and a little tearful. As if sensing this, Peter scooped her up in his arms as they approached the bed, laying her down gently against the furs as a shudder rippled through her body making her gasp. Wendy lay on the bed gazing up at him as he bent over her, her mind noting that despite his surprising gentleness with her, his arms, when she lay her hand on one, were as hard as steel, his eyes alight with the prospect of the battle to come. It both alarmed and thrilled her, her lips registering his brief kiss before he turned away, the Lost Boys all gathered and awake, awaiting his orders. Laying on her side, she listened as Peter outlined his battle plan, the boys adding their suggestions for counter attacks and ambushes, the first order of battle to find out where the enemy was lurking and try to anticipate their next move. Hearing the excited chatter and seeing the looks of eager anticipation on every face, Wendy realized they thought it all a grand game, an entertainment laid on for their benefit. None of them seemed to think it a life or death struggle, such as she'd witnessed not so long ago, the boys apparently used to being awoken in the night by their leader and expected to participate in a barbaric ritual of cat and mouse with whatever enemy was threatening them that particular night. Scared and suddenly exhausted, Wendy lay dozing against the soft bed covers until a pair of warm lips woke her, her blue eyes blinking open to find Peter nose to nose with her.

“I have to go Wendy, but you'll be safe here, as long as you stay in the Hollow. The pirates can't get in, even if they do find it, which they won't.”

“What are you going to do Peter?”

“Me and the boys are going to find out where the ol' Codfish is hiding....” he saw a flare of alarm darken her eyes and hastened to reassure her. “We're not going to fight, not tonight. He's already one man down and will know it was my doing. He won't want to fight in the darkness any more than I do, there's too much chance of mistakes among the shadows.”

“You will be careful, won't you?” Reaching out a hand, Wendy rested it against Peter's cheek, feeling the flex of a muscle along his jawline before she let her hand drop back to the coverlet.

“Of course I will. There's nothing to worry about Wendy, just stay here and we'll be back in the morning.” Behind him, the Lost Boys were eagerly donning their armor and weapons, short bursts of laughter punctuated with the metallic rattle of blades sliding in sheaths as they prepared to go out into the night. Peter leant forward to press a quick, farewell kiss to Wendy's lips, the quick peck on her mouth repeated a second later with another, then another, this one not a peck but a searching exploration that temporarily banished her fears under a torrent of fluttering sensations. A sudden bout of coughing and muttering from the Lost Boys separated them, leaving them both staring at each other for an intense moment before Peter rose to his feet and turned his back on her.

“Time to find some pirates lads!” Peter shouted, his arm raised and holding a sword which he swung in circles about his head as he led the Lost Boys out of the tree without a backward glance. Wendy sat up on the bed, her finger tips pressed to her lips and her mind in turmoil. For several seconds she listened to the departure of Peter and his troop, their voices becoming more and more distant as she strained to hear them, eventually fading into silence and leaving her wondering how long it was until morning. Left alone, she lay back down on the soft furs and contemplated all that had happened.

Life had certainly become terribly exciting all of a sudden. So exciting she almost wished she was back in the nursery and snuggled into her old bed with the covers pulled up about her ears. She lay there, thinking about her mother, about her brothers, about her father and the house, about Nana, their enormous St. Bernard dog who liked to think that she was mother to them all. The placid tenor of her life to date had never so much as raised the tiniest ripple of anxiety for her, her future largely mapped out, as was any young woman's of her station in life. That she would one day meet a suitable young man who would court her and share stolen kisses with her, was an expected pleasure to look forward to, the courtship inevitably ending in a proposal, which if accepted meant marriage and leaving the family home to start a new life. Wendy was quite sensible of the possibility that her new life, once the novelty of marriage and having her own home wore off, would settle happily into the same placid and untroubled routine as her life before, the inevitable advent of children the only aspect to imbue fear or excitement into her domestic life. Her future husband would most likely be someone in the mold of her father, employed in some sterling establishment with good prospects and the promise of a pension when he retired. He would be kind, and sensible, prudent with their money and good with the children. Their life would be one of unruffled peace and contentment until they dwindled into old age and companionable domestic harmony, their grandchildren playing about their feet. As fantasies went, it was safe and secure and untroubled by woe or fear, the future a smooth path of unending repetition and bland sameness. Wendy frowned to herself as her thoughts took a turn away from what she'd always contemplated, in her naivety, as the ideal future for herself and instead reminded her of teasing eyes with impossibly thick lashes set above a mouth that promised wicked pleasures and a future filled with wonder and excitement. What imp of perversity had made her take his hand in the first place? What impulse had blinded her enough to even contemplate giving herself into the hands of a complete stranger? What hidden desire convinced her to be carried away to a place where danger and magic danced side by side, each an alluring temptation, each with it's own attractions and terrors? If she was truly honest with herself, she would acknowledge that since coming to Neverland, she had never felt so alive, or so out of her depth. New feelings were bubbling to the surface, demanding to be satisfied, fulfilled and experienced. None of them had anything to do with safety, or peace or dull domesticity, but all of them had everything to do with the young man that stole from her lips and made unstoppable inroads into her heart and peace of mind. It was like she was caught up in a whirlwind, her body and mind no longer her own but swept along, plundered of it's treasures but at the same time given a glimpse of immeasurable riches to be had if she would only throw caution to the wind and take the first step. It was all quite exhausting. Unable to prevent them, her eyes slid closed and sleep stole over her, setting her mind and body at rest, the night-lights lowering their flames so that only soft light played against her closed lids, all sound from outside muffled by the thick trunk of the tree and deep depths of the sheltering earth.

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Chapter: Four – Armed and Dangerous

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Peter crouched behind the broad trunk of a tree and surveyed the pirate camp spread out below. His Lost Boys were similarly hidden in trees all around the perimeter, their furs and feathers an effective camouflage among the leaves and shadows. Peter's eyes gleamed as he watched the rough crowd below, the flash of firelight on cutlass and sword making his blood start to race through his veins. Hook was not in evidence but Peter didn't worry, he knew the pirate Captain would be close by, maybe hunting the forest below Peter's hiding place, a thought that made his teeth itch. The pirates' camp wasn't that far from the Hollow, which made Peter wonder why the cutthroats had decided on this particular area to set up their tents and hammocks. It was a fair distance from the coast and not an area the pirates usually bothered with for foraging or hunting game, but something had brought them here and Peter wanted to find out what. The snap of a branch under someone's foot froze him in place, his ear telling him that several pairs of booted feet were passing directly under and around the tree in which he was hiding. Glancing down, he briefly saw a bright red feather attached to a wide brimmed hat pass below, it's owner oblivious that the quarry it sought was mere feet from him.

With the search party past, Peter inched his way out along the thick branch to get a better view and hopefully overhear some of Hook's conversation with his men when he entered the encampment. In this he was richly rewarded. Captain James Hook strode into the camp amid cheers and hails of welcome from his motley band of men. Behind Hook straggled a collection of more of the same, his first mate, Jedediah Smee, hurrying past his Captain to make sure all was ready. Accepting his men's adulation as his due, Hook sauntered the length of the camp, Smee waving him to an ornate chair lined with plush cushions for him to use.

“Gad Smee.......me boots are pinching, get 'em off me feet quick smart, would ya!” Slumped in his chair, Hook extended one foot, placing the other on his first mates ample bottom and giving the man a hard shove, his boot flying off as intended. A second later he repeated the maneuver with his second boot, his first mate sent flying and almost going head first into a campfire, a gale of laughter greeting the portly little man as he flapped his arms to regain his balance. Instead of getting into a rage, Smee laughed along with the men, gathering up the muddy boots in one arm while rubbing his bruised backside with his free hand.

“Right you are Captain. Have a cup of tea ready in a trice. Just what the Captain ordered, a nice cup of tea.”

“Tea be damned Smee, I wants me wine. None of that dish wash brew you pass off as tea.”

“Right you are again Captain. Back in a tick.” Scampering to do his Captain's bidding, Smee disappeared into the nearest tent and re-emerged clutching a long stemmed glass and a dark, corked bottle and a pair of soft leather slippers. Tucking bottle and glass under his arm, he reached for, and pulled over, a folding table to set them on beside Hook before pouring a full measure and handing it to his Captain. “There's ya go sir....nothing like a glass of the ships best to set you up before you eat.”

“Damn your eyes Smee, I have to agree with you. Pity we didn't get a glimpse of that blasted tree, what did he call it?”

“I believe it was the 'Ollow.”

“The Hollow...that's right. Damned stupid name, but who am I to complain if it gets us what we wants, eh Smee?”

“Too right Captain, too right. Peter Pan will never know we're 'ere before we's wops 'im a good'n.”

“Really Smee, sometimes your cant is simply deplorable,” Hook drawled, drinking deeply of the wine, his saturnine features deeply shadowed. He glanced around at his men still busy about the camp. “Anyone seen Trimble? He should have been back by now.”

“No sir....not 'ide nor 'air of him, beggin' your pardon Captain.” One of the men called out in answer.

“Damn.” Hook downed the remains of his glass and held it out to be refilled. “Another man lost to those brats. Where's Black Jack......BLACK JACK!” His bellow brought forth a pirate who bowed deeply before his leader then stood, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

“You wanted me Captain?”

“Ah, Jack.....good man. Time for you to prove your worth. Your map has brought us this far, now we need you to lead us the rest of the way. Those brats won't be expecting a night sortie, so once the lads have eaten and rested we'll plan our attack before dawn.....watcha say to that?”

“Sound's like an excellent plan Captain.”

“'Tis indeed Jack, as plan's go. Now, what about this other news.....Smee says he's got a girl in tow!”

“That's what the mermaids sing. He was seen with her in Turtle Bay, so they say.”

“A girl indeed!” Hook scoffed, “what would that puling brat know about girls. Never brought one to Neverland before, at least not for longer than a few hours at the most!”

“Quite right, not as long as this one ever, if the mermaids are to be believed. Mind you, I've heard a whisper or two among the tiny folk that this particular female has managed to oust the infamous Tinkerbell from her position as the Pan's companion.”

“Never say,” Hook exclaimed, accepting the silver, double-barreled cigar holder from Smee's hand. “Pass us a light Jack,” he ordered, leaning forward when his newest henchman produced a glowing ember to light the ends of the fat cigars, clouds of fragrant smoke enveloping all three as Hook puffed. “That has to be a first for that fairy baggage. To be ousted from her place by some whey faced London brat....what a joke!” A gust of laughter shook the pirate Captain, the functional steel hook on his right arm thumping against the wood of his chair as he guffawed. When he was quiet again, he blew a cloud and peered narrow eyed at Jack through the fog. “What do you say, Jack? Has the Pan finally found her? Is she the one?”

“It would seem so. Of course, she may be nothing more than some orphaned girl child he's taken a fancy for.”

“Didn't those lying mermaids give you a description? Something more to go on than just that she's a girl?”

“Not really. Other than the fact the mermaid's sister thought the female uncommonly ugly for one of her breed.”

“Hah! Knowing their petty jealously, I wouldn't trust their judgment on that score. We'll have to see for ourselves, won't we lads. A pretty piece would certainly liven things up around here, a new face, a new conquest to lure away.” Hook puffed contentedly, already planning on how to snatch Peter's new companion away from under his very nose. “You sure those soggy sluts told you true?”

“As true as they can, given their inclination. They are as trapped here as we are, and just as eager to prevent The End from happening as ourselves. If Peter Pan is lured away for good, this place will ice over permanently, and nobody wants that, least of all the mermaids. Everlasting hibernations is not my idea of how to spend the rest of my life.”

“Nor I lad, nor I.” Hook drew in a deep breath, blowing out the ensuing cloud so that it sat like some malevolent fog wreathed around his head and blurring his features. “So our course is laid in. We find this girl-child, take her back to the ship, and let fate decide her future. Are we agreed?”

“Aye aye Captain,” chorused his men.

“And the Pan?” Jack asked, his features impassive.

“He'll try and rescue her and put himself neatly into our hands. Fancy another go at 'im Jack? Now you're no longer a Lost Boy, you have as good a chance as any of us at clipping Pan's wings.”

“I don't want to just clip his wings........I want him dead.”

“Just as well my fine fellow-me-lad. 'Cos that's the only way we can win our freedom from this accursed island is with the death of Peter Pan. Only with the last rattle of his mortal breath will the curse be lifted and our freedom won.”

“Then let us hasten him to that end Captain.”

“Indeed Jack........our sole purpose is to that end, and a right bloody one to boot. Gear up lads, we go to hunt the Pan and his Lost Boys!”

Clamping the cigar holder between his teeth, Hook rose up out of his chair and strutted the length of the camp, inspecting his men with eyes that missed little. Above his head, Peter signaled his boys to prepare their weapons. Having heard most of what was said, he wasn't prepared to let the pirates get within a yard of the Hollow and the precious treasure at it's heart. He felt a rage boil up inside him at the thought of Hook getting his hand on Wendy, a red mist rising in his vision as his body shook with the force of his temper. As if in accord with his mood, the clouds that had been peacefully scudding across the sky started to clump together, their fluffy roundness teased out into flying banners of unrest, the stars blotted out as the lowering mass started to rotate above the pirate camp. Feeling a speck of water land on his cheek, Hook tilted his head back and stared up at the sky, his forget-me-not blue eyes widening on seeing the growing mass of cloud gathering overhead.

“Odds fish!” He exclaimed, drawing his men's attention to the sky, the rasp of Hook's sword clearing it's scabbard loud in the sudden silence. “Arm yourselves brutes, Pan is close by!” His men scrambled for their weapons, the patter of rain drops hitting the dusty ground loud as each man held his weapon drawn and tried to pierce the dark shadows around them. Hook stood in the center of the camp, his trusty Smee at his side and Black Jack behind him, everyone wanting to be the first to spot the Pan, and everyone failing to see anything more than trees and darkness. Suddenly the skies opened and a torrent of water dropped from the thunderous clouds, soaking the pirates in a matter of seconds. Impervious, Hook remained as he was, staring expectantly at the trees for some sign of Peter's presence. As suddenly as it had started, the downpour stopped, the hiss and spit of the drowned fires sounding loud in the silence that followed.

“Steady men, keep ya eyes skinned......” Hook had barely finished speaking when a hail of rocks, sticks and other unidentifiable objects rained down on the pirate force from the trees surrounding them, the men ducking and holding their arms above their heads to protect themselves. Hook faired no better than his men, a large, well aimed missile knocking his scarlet and gold hat from his head to lay, its feather broken, in the mud at his feet. The clatter of small and large ammunition fell for a long minute, the yells and cries of pain from his men as rocks found their targets ringing in Hook's ears. While all around him tried to fend off the flying debris, Hook remained relatively unscathed, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the dark trees for some sight of the Pan he knew was hiding in them.

“Come out you imp of the Devil! Show your cowardly face and meet me cold steel!” Hook challenged as another hail of pain rained down on the pirates, all his men now sporting cuts and injuries from the unavoidable attack. “Stop hiding and face me like a man, Peter Pan!” Angry that he had nothing to strike out at, Hook turned to his first mate, Smee hunched over beside him with his hands spread protectively over his stocking cap covered head. “Smee, stop cowering, you sniveling wretch, and marshal the men. The brats are in the trees all around us, take the men and go get those cowardly dogs!”

Wincing at the force of Hook's voice and the heavy blow delivered to his nether regions by the Captains slippered foot, Smee scurried away, shouting orders as he ran. Black Jack remained where he was, a trickle of blood snaking down his stubbled cheek from a well aimed stone.

“You and me, Jack, are going to find Peter Pan,” Hook growled, flexing his sword arm and swinging the blade in an arc.

“Right with you Captain. From what I could tell, the one that took off your hat came from that direction,” Jack pointed and Hook looked, his narrowed eyes trying to see beyond the sheltering leaves to the Pan behind them.

“Lead on Jack, I'm feeling lucky tonight.”

With Jack in black and Hook in red they made a strangely dressed pair as they advanced on the tree where Peter crouched, hidden among the leaves. Before either pirate could get close enough to see, Peter flew straight up and above the canopy, invisible to those below. A short flight brought him to the Hollow, the tree and surrounding jungle unnaturally quiet as he alighted on the soft ground cover, his sword drawn and a dagger in his left hand. With his back to the tree, Peter circled the grove, straining his senses for any indication that a pirate had found his way to the tree before him. Satisfied that he was alone, he backed up to the tree trunk and pressed the concealed knot-hole, the door swinging open behind him. Slipping inside, he secured the bark door before running down the pitch black steps, his breath sounding loud in the darkness, the patter of his feet against the earth like falling rain. Bursting into the dimly lit chamber at the bottom, Peter took a moment to sheath his weapons before approaching the alcove where Wendy lay. Sheltered within the tree's heart, she lay sleeping peacefully, her cheek cushioned on her hand and her lips slightly parted . Peter stared down at her and felt as if someone had punched him in the chest, his lungs straining to pull in air and his heart thumping erratically. Why this one girl had a power to disturb him so profoundly, he was at a loss to understand. Leaning down, he carefully pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek, loathe to awaken her but aware that the Hollow was no longer a safe haven. The Lost Boys would already be on their way to the Indian village to regroup and wait for Peter to join them, and soon the pirates would be starting to close in. With a wry grimace, Peter reached out and shook Wendy's shoulder, her eyes snapping open and staring up at him in some alarm before she recognized him.

“Oh Peter, it's you,” she sighed, smiling up at him and blinking. A glance behind him told her he was alone, his tense expression making her sit up and rub her eyes. “What's wrong?”

“We have to leave, it's no longer safe. Hook is here.”

“How did he know where to find you?”

“Black Jack betrayed us and led him here. Quick now, we have to leave before they arrive.”

Wendy swung her legs over the side and stood up, Peter already moving away towards the stairs leading up to the surface. A sound from above froze them both in place, Wendy tilting her head and glancing up at the earth ceiling as another loud sound followed the first. “Peter....what is that?”

Unsheathing his sword, Peter held a finger to his lips before running across to the stairwell and peering upwards. Wendy came to stand at his shoulder, straining to make out the strange sounds coming from above. Several more thumps and blows sounded against the trunk of the tree sheltering them, Wendy biting her lip when a particularly loud thump made her jump.

“Can they get in here Peter?”

“Not if the tree doesn't want them to.” Peter grinned at her over his shoulder, another loud thump from above drawing their attention back up the stairwell. After several successive blows, the attackers went silent, Peter and Wendy moving back into the center of the cavern and staring upwards as if to see their besiegers through the tangled roots and solid earth. Feeling more than a little apprehensive, Wendy crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed both arms up and down to dispel the rash of goosebumps that had appeared. Peter still had his sword in his hand, his head tilted to catch any sound of what the pirates might be doing up above. Wendy sniffed, then sniffed again. Not wanting to believe what her nose was telling her, she drew in a deep breath.

“I smell smoke.....somethings burning!”

“They've fired the tree, the bastards!” Peter shouted, anger contorting his features as he raced over to the stairwell, a gust of smoke greeting him as he raced up the steps. Wendy stood at the bottom, coughing a little at the smoke that crept insidious tendrils down the stairs and into the Hollow. Thoroughly alarmed, Wendy stepped backward, her eyes darting everywhere, her imagination making her think that the temperature was rising and the air thinner than seconds before. Peter burst from the stairwell rubbing his eyes and coughing.

“We have to get out of here Wendy, it's a deathtrap.”

“How Peter? Surely they'll be waiting for us...up there. This Black Jack will have told them where all the entrances are.”

“Black Jack doesn't know everything Wendy, so take heart. There are more secrets unknown than known in Neverland, and this tree is no exception.”

Smoke was starting to billow in from other entrances, filling the Hollow with the smell and taste of burning wood, Wendy feeling tears start in her eyes from the acrid fumes. Peter grasped her hand and pulled her over towards his bed, his sword once more at his side. “Follow me Wendy, we'll be safe I promise.” Approaching the wall beside his bed, Peter reached up and twisted what Wendy had thought was just an ornament stuck to the wall. At once a section of earth seemed to fall inward, revealing a tunnel that led away into darkness. Taking one of the still burning conch-shell lamps, Peter bent over and led the way along the earthen passage, the roof too low for them to stand upright, but wide enough that Wendy could stretch her arms out and touch the sides with her fingers to steady herself. She followed the bobbing light in front of Peter through several twists and turns in the tunnel, her feet catching on the pebbles and roots protruding from the ground. At last Peter started to slow, the air clear up ahead of any hint of smoke, a solid wall blocking their way. Setting down the lamp, Peter drew his dagger and plunged it into the soft earth, a clod falling into the tunnel and rolling to Wendy's feet. He worked for several seconds before the wall crumbled, as the other one had done, falling outwards and giving them both free access to the outside. As they stumbled out, Wendy gulped in huge gasps of clean air before sitting down heavily on the grassy slope leading away from the hole. After extinguishing the lamp, Peter joined her, the pair of them enjoying the sensation of clean air and freedom from the close confines of the escape tunnel.

“What happened to the Lost Boy's?” Wendy asked, rolling on to her side and staring at the starlight rimmed profile next to her.

“We'll meet them at the Indian village. I was going to take you in the morning anyway......now we'll get there a bit sooner.”

They lay for a long minute or two, Peter staring up at the stars twinkling above, Wendy pulling up tufts of grass as she mulled over what she was going to say.

“Peter?”

“Hmmm?”

“Can you really teach me to fight with a sword?”

“Easily.....but why would you want to?”

Wendy decided to try another tact. “I suppose you believe girls can't do the same things that boys can.”

“Well.....I guess that might be true. Girls are usually weaker than boys, or so I've always understood. Is that wrong?” Peter turned his head to face her, his features outlined by shadows.

“Not entirely. It is true that there are a lot of physical things best left to the men to do, but there are a lot of things that women can do just as well as men.”

“Like what?”

“Well, they can....and they could.......oh there must be lots of things. Anyway, the point is.......will you teach me to defend myself with a sword? After all, the Lost Boy's have weapons and presumably know how to wield them, and they are younger than I am, for the most part. And I'm sure if you taught me, I'd be able to help battle the pirates when the need arose.”

“I don't know......show me your arm.” He waited for Wendy to sit up and extend her arm, the flesh gleaming pale in the soft sheen of starlight. Getting on to his knees, he gripped Wendy's arm and pulled her forward a little, bending the elbow to test the muscles in her upper arm. “Not much here to work with, in fact you'd be lucky to hold a blade let alone fight anyone with it.” He slid his hands down her arm to grasp her hand, turning it face up to inspect the smooth palm. “And this is so soft, you'd blister in minutes.” He held out his own hand palm up, the hard ridge of callouses a direct contrast to Wendy's unmarked skin. “I don't think you'd be very good at sword fighting........”

“But Peter...” Wendy started, affronted at his assessment but unable to refute the truth of his words. “If I can't use a sword, how am I supposed to defend myself if I'm attacked by a pirate or another mermaid or some other enemy?”

“Let me think a moment. A sword is out of the question. It would take too long to harden your grip and build up the necessary muscle to hold it, even two handed. I could teach you to use a dagger, but that's only good for hand to hand, and you'd still be overpowered if your opponent had a sword.” He rubbed his chin, cataloging the assorted weapons sported by his Lost Boys. Suddenly he lifted his head and snapped his fingers. “I know what you can learn to use!”

“What?”

“A bow!”

“A bow? You mean like Robin Hood?”

“Robin who?”

“Oh never mind......but where would you get one, and who would teach me?”

“That's easy, from the Piccaninnies of course. They use bows to hunt and often hold tournaments among the braves. Why Princess Tiger Lily herself is a first class bowman, she could teach you.”

“Princess Tiger Lily,” Wendy murmured the name that sent prickles down her arms. “Didn't you say that the last two times we met we didn't get on?”

“But this time it'll be different. She'll see you belong to me and won't be so jealous,” Peter informed her airily, ignoring the incredulous expression crossing Wendy's face. “And neither will you.”

“Neither will I what?”

“Be jealous......at least of Tiger Lily. She's really very nice once you get to know her.” Peter added, getting to his feet in readiness to leave.

Swallowing down her temper, Wendy took his hand to get to her feet. “I'll take your word for it. Shouldn't we be going there now? Once the pirates realize that no-one is coming out, they're bound to come looking for the way we escaped.”

Peter shrugged. “They'll give up when they find that enchanted trees don't burn very well, plus it's nearly dawn.”

When he failed to elaborate Wendy prodded him to continue. “What's important about dawn?”

“Listen....can you hear that?” He pulled Wendy close. Faintly they caught the distant sound of something ticking, the sound fading then returning, each time a little closer than the last.

“What is that? It sounds like a clock?”

“It is....the one inside the crocodile. I told you the beast wouldn't be far behind the pirates. Where Hook goes, the croc will always show up. It's rumored that the reptile so liked the taste of Hook's hand when I tossed it too him that it wants the rest of him as well!”

“Oh Peter that's horrible.......the poor man, to be hunted like that.”

“Pah, Hook can take care of himself. Come on, lets get moving before the croc decides to make us his before-breakfast snack.”

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

The sun was rapidly rising into the sky when Peter and Wendy flew in to the Indian village, only a few braves from the previous nights watch scattered about the perimeter. They hailed Peter's arrival with upraised hands, showing only the mildest polite curiosity at Wendy's arrival with him. She, for her part, goggled unashamedly. She had seen illustrations and paintings of the noble savages with their long dark hair and sculptured features, she'd even seen one or two photographs in the strand magazine of various tribal chiefs wearing their exotic feathered bonnets. But to actually see a real red Indian up close was as much a surprise as finding out fairies really do exist. Trailing behind Peter, she looked left and right, marveling at the beautifully decorated and adorned painted tepees, the buffalo hide walls brightly colored with images of people and animals and other arcane patterns and symbols. So engrossed in staring about her she didn't realize that Peter had halted and helplessly bumped into his back before falling backwards on her bottom. A trilling laugh greeted her inelegant arrival at the chief's tepee and Wendy could feel her face burn as she scrambled to her feet with Peter's hand under her elbow.

“Wendy, let me introduce Big Chief Talagumpa Proud Elk, and his daughter, the princess Tiger Lily.”

Ignoring the hot flush painting her cheeks pink, Wendy dropped into a deep curtsy, the move slightly spoilt by her having no skirt to hold. Rising up out of her abeyance, Wendy lifted her chin and stared back at the girl standing to the right of her father. To her deep chagrin she found herself staring into a pair of dark sloe eyes tilted up at the corners like a cat, the thick lashes only enhancing their exotic look. The beautifully Indian girl also had a dimple on each side of her cupid bow lips set within a finely bones face with high cheek bones and dark, arched eyebrows. Her hair was as dark as ebony, smoothed back from her wide brow and plaited with interwoven ribbons down her back. Clothed in the finest white deer-skin, fringed and beaded to perfection, the princess presented the quintessential image of an exotic, savage beauty.

Tilting her chin up a notch, Wendy tossed her own hair back over her shoulder and kept her expression impassively polite.

“Chief, Tiger Lily, may I present........Wendy Moira Angela Darling.”

Wendy looked over at Peter in surprise, never expecting him to remember her full name, let alone announce her with it.

“Chief,” Wendy nodded her head at the brawny man, his costume similar to his daughters but capped with a trailing feathered headpiece, the heavy beading framing his face and reaching to the ground behind him. “Princess,” Wendy tilted her head at the Indian girl and received an answering tilt in return. Peter seemed oblivious to the tension in the air, his fingers finding Wendy's and giving her a gentle squeeze of encouragement. Grateful for his support, Wendy managed to lift her lips in a smile, relaxing a little when she noticed the narrowed gaze of the princess fasten on their joined hands.

“Welcome again, daughter of the big smoke,” the chief swept his arm in an arc, “we of the Piccaninnies are honored to invite you into our lodge to share our meal. Peter is often a guest of our lodge and we are pleased to see he has, for once in his life, done as he has been told.”

Wendy looked at the chief in surprise, the big man giving her back an enigmatic smile before ushering her towards the flap pulled back to allow them entrance. The princess had already gone inside and Wendy needed little urging to satisfy her curiosity about what a tepee looked like from the inside. Peter followed with the Chief bringing up the rear. Once everyone was inside the flap was once more lowered, the tepee amply illuminated by fragrant lamps hanging from brackets attached to the central support post. While Peter showed Wendy where to sit, the Chief sat himself down on a comfortable pile of skins, then took off his feathered head-dress which was taken by an Indian woman, one of several bustling about the tent. The center, around the pole, was laid with a large woven mat, around the edge of which guest and family members were seated in readiness to break their fast. Peter and Wendy found a space in the circle and sat down cross-legged with smiles and nods from their immediate neighbors. At once the women still standing started to pass round bowls of food in one direction while another started at the other side with a jug and a string of beakers hanging off her belt. The princess sat beside her father, serenely confident of her position, her dark eyes sweeping around the company but coming to rest on the down-bent blond head of Peter Pan. Wendy, slightly in awe of the handsome, dark skinned people around her, ate her meal slowly, savoring the tasty flat bread and fruit while trying not to stare at the different designs worked in beads on many of the garments worn by the Talagumpa family. Peter was conversing in the native language to the man on his right, laughing at whatever was being said before turning back to speak to Wendy.

“I was just telling Ahanu about last night. He suggested next time I send lightening bolts to toast the pirates backsides.”

“Can you do that?” Wendy asked, her surprise at the extraordinary things that Peter could do, starting to wear off. “Control the weather I mean.”

“Not really, but sometimes, when I get angry or upset, the weather seems to become violent and very localized, like last night.”

“Oh, I see.” Wendy took a sip from her beaker, Peter giving her a quizzical look.

“You don't seem surprised?”

“You said yourself, Neverland is magic, and I've already seen a sun that behaves quite unusually, as well as clouds that act like no clouds I've ever seen before. So being able to control the weather is almost.....anticlimactic”

“Anticlimactic?” Peter looked puzzled. Wendy leant to the side and placed her mouth near to his ear.

“Not at all surprised,” she whispered, before leaning back. Peter caught her eye and gave her a wide grin before lifting his bowl and using his fingers to push a concoction of meat and vegetables into his mouth. The meal was finished and over quickly, the jug passing around one more time, a woman gathering the bowls from each person while another cleared the platters from the mat. Chief Talagumpa raised his hand for silence and waited for everyone's attention to be focused on him.

“My family, my friends. This morning we welcome to our lodge the new companion for the Pan. Wendy Moira Angela Darling, daughter of the big smoke, has arrived as foretold by the wind, and the waves. We congratulate Peter on finding so able a protector for Neverland.” His welcoming speech concluded, the Chief beamed at the assembled company, his eyes twinkling when they alighted on Wendy, who could only return his look and smile, having not understood a word of the native language. Others around the circle were also looking at her, making her nervous and self-conscious. Princess Tiger Lily raised her hand next, waiting for the lodge to fall silent before speaking, her voice husky and melodious.

“I too add my welcome for this Wendy from faraway. I would extend the hand of friendship once more, as I have done before, and offer her a dress of my own, as a gift of friendship to the one the Pan, and Neverland appears to favor above all overs.” Her speech over, Tiger Lily gazed over at Peter, ignoring Wendy as if she was invisible, and concentrating her dark allure exclusively for him. Wendy understood the look, if not the words, and her own blue eyes narrowed slightly, quite able to understand why she'd taken the princess in such dislike the other times she'd been in Neverland. Keeping her thoughts to herself, Wendy turned to Peter for a translation of the Indian girls speech.

“The Chief welcomed you to Neverland and congratulated me,” Peter told her, looking smug.

“What for?” Wendy interrupted only to be ignored at Peter continued.

“Then the princess welcomed you too and offered one of her dresses to wear......”

“Oh did she,” Wendy muttered, Peter choosing to ignore the comment.

“As a gift of friendship,” he finished, a crease forming between his brows as he registered Wendy's mutinous expression. “What's the matter?”

Not wanting to answer that question, Wendy lifted her face, all trace of hostility gone and a smile plastered on her lips. “Why nothing Peter, I was just thinking how kind and generous of the Chief. Could you give him my thanks and also ask the princess if she would teach me to use a bow and arrow?”

“Sure...” Peter turned to the Chief and Tiger Lily and relayed Wendy's gratitude, the Chief smiling broadly while the princess fluttered her lashes and looked coyly at Peter. This seemed to signal the end of their session with the Chief, the rest of the family getting to their feet and leaving the large tepee, Peter and Wendy gaining their feet and waiting their turn to leave. Princess Tiger Lily approached and laid a hand on Peter's arm, drawing him a little way from Wendy as people filed past them. Lowering her voice for his ears alone, she effectively cut the pale-faced girl out of the conversation. Wendy fumed but kept her temper, concentrating on the people leaving the tent, smiling back when smiled at, nodding when necessary. The low voiced conversation between the princess and Peter didn't last long, and Peter soon turned back to lead Wendy out of the Chief's tent and out into the morning sun. Tiger Lily followed but stood to one side, turning her back on the couple in green and signaling for one of her attendants to come forward.

“What was that all about?” Wendy asked, before Peter could open his mouth to speak.

“I was about to tell you. Lily has offered to take you to the Sun Pool to bathe. It's her own private washing pool, so you're very honored She also agreed to give you lessons in using a bow later this morning.”

“How generous of the princess. What will you be doing?”

“Gathering up the boys and planning what to do about Hook, of course.”

“Couldn't I come with you?”

“We'll be having a council of war with the Chief and his braves, it's no place for girls.”

“Of all the horrid things to say!” Wendy gasped, her hands gravitating to her hips. “I bet the princess gets to sit in on these 'councils of war'!”

“I would doubt it,” Peter scoffed, fidgeting and looking about. “Look, there's Top-Hat, and Rat, the other's won't be far. I have to go. Enjoy the Sun Pool.” Not giving her time to protest, he cupped her face in his hands and gave her a hard, searching kiss, Wendy's hands reaching up for his even as he let her go, almost bounding away in his excitement to go and gather his small army of boys before meeting with the other men. A little stunned at the suddenness and intensity of his kiss, she stood for a moment with one hand pressed to her tingling lips. A sound behind her made her swing around, the beautiful Indian princess standing only a pace away, her arms folded across her chest and a hard look in her sloe eyes.

“Are you ready to go, milk-faced daughter of a dung pile?” Tiger Lily asked, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

“I beg your pardon princess, but I don't speak your language?”

A titter passed between the half dozen Indian women gathered behind the princess, their dark eyes glancing back and forth between the two girls. Wendy looked perplexed, unable to understand their whispered comments. The princess continued to smile at her, her expression at odds with her words.

“I would cheerfully gut you, you squinty eyed, straw haired insect,” Lily swept her hand before her to indicate the direction they were to take. Wendy had no idea what the girl was saying, but felt it was not entirely complimentary to herself, the woman behind the princess having a hard time controlling their mirth.

“I'll take it to mean the pool is that way,” Wendy answered, turning away from the giggling woman and walking towards the path indicated. “I will certainly enjoy having a wash. I'm sure my hair must smell of wood smoke after last night, and my feet are really quite grubby.”

“You smell like a pig,” Tiger Lily said, her face reserved but friendly, at odds with her insulting words. Behind her curved lips, the princess was grinding her teeth, this game of insults because the stupid pale-face couldn't understand her language a childish pursuit. Shooting a frowning glare at her attendants to stifle their giggles, the princess walked a little ahead of her guest to show her the way. It was obvious the girl didn't remember anything of their meetings before, and it was also obvious the Peter had made his choice, along with Neverland as she was wearing the leaves. Swallowing her jealousy, Tiger Lily decided then and there to throw off her evil mood and banish the spiteful spirits curdling her words.

“You will find that to swim in the Sun Pool is something to look forward to.”

Wendy gasped to hear the girl speak perfectly clear, if a little stilted and carefully enunciated, English. Keeping her own voice calm and even, Wendy decided to grasp the olive branch offered. “I am told it is a great honor to be invited to use the pool.” She racked her brain for something else to say. “Peter told me you are an expert with the bow.”

“Yes, I am. He has asked me to teach you.”

“I would be most grateful princess, if you could. Neverland is very beautiful, but since I came here, nearly everything I've met – mermaids, pirates, even the Lost Boys - have tried to capture, kidnap or kill me.”

“Neverland is a difficult place, if you are not prepared for it.”

“So I'm finding out. Last night the pirates tried to smoke us out of the Hollow!”

“Hook is a devil, and cunning as a snake. Never trust him. I will teach you to shoot the eye out of a mouse before the day is out, if you wish it?”

“Oh dear, poor mouse.”

“If you are to be of use in a battle, you must be able to kill or else be killed,” Tiger Lily told her, her expression fierce.

“I'm not sure I would be able to kill anyone, princess. I'm sure if I'd known that Peter's world was quite such a blood thirsty one I might have thought twice about coming here.”

“Do you not love the Pan?”

Wendy blushed, knowing full well that Indian girl had seen Peter's hasty kiss. “I haven't known him long enough to answer that question. He's quite different from the young men of my world.”

“As are you.” Tiger Lily remarked. The trail they were following was leading them towards the sound of water, a steady chuckled of a stream running over rocks filling the air as they approached. Birds were in full cry in the branches above, their tuneful trills adding to the morning chorus as the group of women approached to stand at the edge of a circular glade. “This is the Sun Pool.”

Wendy looked on with delight. The trees gave way to shrubs that surrounded a small lake that had formed at the center, the stream feeding in to the pool dropping over a ledge to create a mini waterfall. Each shrub bore a crop of flowers that scented the air and gave color to the greenery. Sunlight filled the sheltered glade, glinting in sparkles off the water which stretched from one side to the other, the channel that emptied it disappearing once more into the trees on the far side. Along each grassy bank was enough space so that the women could kneel and wash clothes, or just sit on the soft turf and dry off. There were no rocks or gravel to harm delicate feet and once they passed beyond the screening bushes, no way for anyone to disturb the privacy of the bathers. Sturdy wooden bridges had been made to span the serpentine lake in two places, several of the woman already using them to take them to a well used washing spot, downstream from the widest part of the small lake. Peering down into the water, Wendy could see that the bottom looked sandy and soft, the grassy edge giving way to the water so that everything was soft and inviting for tender flesh. Flowers dotted the grass, growing no taller than the green spikes and making a carpet of color for them to walk on.

“How beautiful.”

“Come and soak near the falls, the leaves will come off by themselves and the soap plants are there.”

“Soap plants?” Wendy followed the princess along the bank to the deepest part of the lake, the water turning a dark blue but still clear enough to see the bottom. The tiny waterfall frothed when it hit the surface, ripples fanning out and making the water glint like silver. Clustered thickly around that end of the lake were plants covered in green and yellow berries, hanging like cherries over the water. The two girls were now alone, the other women chattering and laughing further along, around a bend and all but out of sight. Tiger Lily kicked off her shoes and reached for the shoulder of her dress, releasing the fastening so that is slid off her arms and down her body leaving her standing in only a loin cloth twisted around her hips. Taking a short run the princess jumped into the pool, her arms around her knees so that she made a huge splash, the water forming waves that slopped against the bank and threatened to over spill. The Indian girl quickly surfaced, wiping the water form her eyes and giving Wendy a wide grin.

“What are you waiting for?”

The lure of the water was too much for Wendy to resist. Taking a more sedate course, Wendy sat on the bank and slid into the water like an otter, ducking under briefly to soak her hair. The princess was plucking some of the green berries from the plants edging the water.

“These are soap berries. You crush them in your hand, rub them together and then rub them all over you. Even in your hair!” Suiting words to actions, she did just that, a quantity of froth rising from her moving hands. Wendy could feel her coating of leaves starting to peel away from her body, the water feeling like silk against her skin as it became more and more exposed.

“I thought the water would be cold, but it's quite warm.”

“The Sun Pool is fed by a hot spring. By the time it reaches here, it is just right.” Tiger Lily explained, soaping her arms and shoulders. Wendy was surrounded by a growing flotilla of green leaves, her costume floating merrily away on the rippling water leaving her as naked as a babe. Keeping only her head and shoulders above the water, Wendy waded across to the Soap Berry plants and plucked several for herself. Copying the princess's actions, she crushed the berries between her hands and rubbed them together. At once a sweet smelling soapy froth filled her palms and she smeared it over her arms and neck and on top of her hair. It felt sinfully wicked to be standing naked in a pool in the great outdoors. Baths at home had, by necessity, been kept short and perfunctory. With hot water at a premium, and the whole family needing to bathe on the same night, it was more of a chore than a pleasure, her long hair proving a trial to wash and dry. Here in Neverland, in the Sun Pool, there was room to move and more warm water than she could ever need to wash and rinse her hair as many times as she wanted. Glad to rid herself of the smell of smoke, Wendy soaped her hair until it squeaked before turning her attention to her body. Tiger Lily had already completed her ablutions, a morning bath a common occurrence for her. She was sitting on the grass bank with her long black hair pulled over one shoulder, her fingers running through the strands to comb them out. Wendy was so absorbed in the novelty of having a wash out of doors that she didn't pay much heed to the near Indian girl watching from the bank. Tiger Lily, on the other hand, was taking great interest in the girl splashing about in the water.

She had expected, as in the previous visits, to take an unreasonable and violent dislike to the girl-from-faraway, and at first, that had been the case. But seeing her clothed in Neverland green, and that parting kiss, Tiger Lily had to admit to herself that all her silly, girlish fancies in regards Peter Pan were just that – silly. Peter had never really shown her more than friendship, and on the few times she'd tried to push it beyond those boundary's, he'd shied away like a startled deer. If she'd really looked and taken notice, even those first two short visits had shown the way the wind was blowing, Peter unable to hide his pride in the girl, his interest beyond the mere curious to something deeper and more long lasting. It was her own delusions that were harder to deny, her wish that Peter would look at her the same way, that she might ignite the light in his eyes with the ease that this pale skinned girl could do without even realizing her power. Giving up those secret wishes would be hard, but even Tiger Lily knew a losing battle when she saw one. Her father had been right, her stubbornness making her blind to Peter's true feelings. A splash drew her out of her introspection and she smiled at the girl standing up to her shoulders in the clear water. Her form was clearly visible and, despite knowing that her own rich, copper skin and enticing curves were attractive to a great deal of braves back at the village, Tiger Lily had to acknowledge that the slender limbs and creamy skin were a combination any man would find hard to resist. Dismissing the last vestiges of her jealousy, Lily rose gracefully to her feet and padded over to where her dress lay warming in the morning sun.

“You will wrinkle like a dried berry if you do not come out,” she called to Wendy, slipping her dress over her head and tying the fastening at her shoulder. “I brought a dress for you to wear if you would prefer it to leaves?”

“Oh, thank you Princess, that's very kind of you. I was starting to wonder if there were any of the special bushes around here for me to use.”

“They are about here somewhere, but for the time being, try this on. See, it is not a rag.” Lily held out the dress for Wendy to inspect, several strings of feathered beading hanging from the decorated bodice.

“It's beautiful. Thank you, I'll get out right away.” Wading over to the bank, Wendy hauled herself out and sat with her feet dangling in the water, her hands squeezing the water out of her hair. As if sensing somehow that she needed to get dry and warm quickly, the sun appeared to intensify, the heat beating on her skin and banishing the droplets of water in seconds. Instead of the usual half an hour it took to dry her hair in front of the fire, the sun managed in minutes, tendrils curling up at the bottom as Wendy fluffed it and spread it out to dry over her shoulders. When the heat abated, Wendy got to her feet and accepted the dress held out by the Indian girl, the cloth soft and silky between her fingers. Lifting it over her head she let it drop over her body, Lily lacing up the shoulder and smoothing the cloth over Wendy's arms.

“There, you look very pretty now.”

Wendy stared into the dark, sloe eyes so close to her own. She sensed the change in the Princess and wondered at it. Instead of the intense enmity that had rolled off the girl before, now there was nothing but friendliness and acceptance in the thickly lashed eyes, a smile curving the perfect bow of the girls lips. “Thank you Princess, you have been very kind to me.”

Tiger Lily shrugged. “There is no reason for us to be enemies, daughter of the big smoke. Peter has made his choice, and I must be content.” She flung her arm wide. “There are many handsome young men wanting to walk with me, and Peter never offered me anything more than his friendship. What there was is in the past; you are the future.”

Wendy ducked her head. “But is it the future I want?”

“Are you not sure? Did you not come here freely?”

“Yes.....I guess so. But......”

“But?”

“This is all so new, so strange. I hardly know what to believe, that this isn't some dream that I'll awaken from in the morning. And what about the future I had thought I had, back in London? What about my family?” Wendy felt a surging rush of emotion choke her and she covered her face with her hands. Tiger Lily looked on in some consternation.

“Do you not want to be here?”

“I don't know. At first I thought this would be like a dream, fleeting and fun, exciting. But then...well...”

“Peter Pan is not an ordinary boy, nor will he be an ordinary man. You are still caught between your world and his.”

“Yes, yes I am....and it frightens me.” Wendy lowered her hands and stared wide eyed at the Princess.

“You know that the Pan can never die, at least not at the hand of evil.”

“Are you saying he's immortal, that he's not human?”

“No. I am saying that the laws of this world would not allow the Pan to be killed by one such as Hook.”

“Then they fight a never ending battle? What's the point of that?”

“The point, if such a thing exists, if to keep the two worlds, yours and mine, in balance. Neverland is a place where dreams become real, where wishes take solid form, where life is an unending cycle of adventure and magic, challenge and suprise.”

“It sound's very tiring, if you ask me. Does it ever slow down, take a breath?”

“Does your world do that?”

Wendy thought for a moment, about the bustle and seething activities of a big city, of the people striving to give meaning to their lives, of the simple task of keeping what they had, of being a success. Even the day to day routine in her own family and household was a constant bustle of sound and movement, of school and home, of life all around them.

“I suppose not. But Neverland is nothing like London...there's no buildings, no trains, no people, at least not in the way London has people.”

“Do you miss all those things?”

Wendy looked down at her hands, her fingers twisting together like her thoughts. “I miss my mother and father, and my brothers....but London? No. I heard my mother once asking my father if it would be possible for us to move further out of London, maybe even as far as the countryside, because of the sooty air and dirt of the city.”

“What did he say?”

“That we had to stay close to his work, that we couldn't afford to live like yokels and have any hope of a future for us.”

Wendy fell silent, the feel of the warm sun on her shoulders draining some of the tension from the muscles. “I know they want the best for us, but how do they know what that is?”

“Maybe this is what is best......for you.” Spreading her arms wide, Tiger Lily spun in a circle, her face upturned to feel the sun on her face. “Maybe Neverland is the future you were meant for.”

“Maybe.”

Tiger Lily stopped turning and regarded her new friend pensively. “If we are to teach you to shoot an arrow and hit something other than air, we should start now. Peter will be looking for you soon, and he is impatient.”

“Won't he just come here?”

“The trees would send him in circles!” Tiger Lily laughed, her white teeth bright against her copper skin. “Only women can come here, and only women find it again. Men who dare to go looking soon find themselves anyplace but here.”

“How clever. But you're right, I do want to be able to show Peter I can defend myself and he did say you were the best.”

Tiger Lily preened a little before slipping on her moccasins, Wendy accepting a pair that matched the dress, finding them soft and snug against her feet. Together the two girls, as different as night and day in appearance, waved goodbye to the women still washing further down the lake before heading through the sheltering belt of flowering shrubs to the trees beyond. Once through and into the shadowed depths they found the trail and walked side by side, the shrill calls of the birds following their slow return to the Indian village.

From his lofty perch high up in the canopy, Black Jack looked down at the distant figures of the two girls walking the track back to towards the village, their voices like fluting birds as they passed beneath and beyond his hiding place. Hook had been right to send him ahead to watch the trail and village for signs that Peter Pan was there. Hook had remained behind to smoke out the tree, already aware that his quarry would find an alternative escape from the trap. Even now the pirate brigands were making their way down to the valley sheltering the village, the intention to meet up with Black Jack and hear his report before finalizing their plans. Certainly Jack would have a deal more information about the newcomer to Neverland than he had before, the very girl he'd come to spy upon passing close enough for him to wish he could see the color of her eyes. She looked comely and young and Jack felt something stir, a crimp of jealousy that knotted his insides and made his teeth clench. Why should Peter Pan be the one to have the pick of the prettiest girls. He'd already toyed with the Indian Princess, and now he had another on his string. It was grossly unfair, and the reason he and Peter had fallen out in the first place.

Jack had fallen hard for the beautiful Indian girl from the moment he first set eyes on her. Tiger Lily had been similar smitten, teasing the two boys as they vied for her childish attention. But Jack wasn't Peter Pan and inevitably lost the battle for the dark-eyed beauty's attention. As the boys grew and Peter Pan started to assert his leadership, Jack found himself butting heads with his Captain over issues that before would have been deemed unimportant. Now they became battles fought to a standstill, Peter and Jack turning the skies of Neverland red with their rampant emotions out of control. In the end it came down to one of them leaving, Jack losing and being cast out of the Lost Boy's band. His rage had carried him as far as the beach, the Jolly Roger rolling at anchor in the bay before him.

At first Hook had treated him as he did any Lost Boy that fell into his grasp, throwing Jack into the brig to molder. Several interrogations later and Jack had managed to convince the black haired pirate Captain that Jack was sure to be useful, not least as a scout to lead Hook and his men against their common enemy, Peter Pan. As soon as Hook signed him on as crew, Jack started to grow, leaving behind his boyish form and becoming a man in appearance and manner. The rest of the crew welcomed him, naming him Black Jack for his midnight hair and brows as much for his brooding demeanor. Soon his previous life was all but forgotten, the rhythm and routine of the ship with it's hard work and quick tempered Captain keeping Jack's mind off his grievances. Being the newest member of the grizzled crew, Jack had to learn quickly the way things were done, discipline meted out with many a meaty fist connecting with his head and producing stars until he got too quick or too strong for such punishment. Now he was the equal of any man aboard, his corded arms and broad shoulders enough to make any pirate think twice before crossing him. Hook noticed, and took the younger man under his wing, making Jack his lieutenant and making use of his knowledge gained when still a Lost Boy and the Pan's right hand man.

Now Jack had only one goal in mind, to bring Pan to his knees and end the spell keeping the Jolly Roger tied to the island of Neverland. With knowledge gained from years of sailing the waters, Hook had surmised that the only way for them to escape the islands hold would be to kill, once and for all, Peter Pan. An uneasy truce with the mermaids brought the pirates more information, confirming what Hook already knew and allowing them to more closely track Peter's movements and actions. The last freeze had cemented their plans, with maps and men sent ashore to search out and destroy the Pan as quickly as possible. The news, that he'd returned with a girl from his last trip, came as something of an unwelcome surprise to Hook and his men. Rumors had been heard, from fairy folk and enchanted creatures that, like Jack, Peter had changed from a boy to a man and had gone looking for his other half. Now it appeared that the rumors were fact and the girl very real, already ingratiating herself with the native population. It only changed the plan a little, Jack grinning with the thought of snatching the girl and the princess together, of Peter flying to their rescue only to be spitted on Hook's sword and thereby ending their long servitude to the island. Maybe they wouldn't have to kill the girl and could keep them both aboard ship as servants, the princess for him and the girl for the rest. That seemed fair. Satisfied he had it all worked out to his advantage, Black Jack slipped down through the branches to the jungle floor, his boots almost silent on the leafy ground as he hurried away to meet up with Hook and the rest of the pirates.

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Chapter: Five – Friends, Foes and moral fiber

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Peter's mind was only half on what was being discussed about the council. His Lost Boys were in good voice, Crate proposing suitably gruesome plans for ambush while Stretch described singularly bloodthirsty ways of dispatching the pirates minus their entrails or other body parts. The Chief looked on with a detached disdain while his braves argued over the probable actions of Hook and his crew and which direction they'd come from. While the rumpus carried on around him, Peter sat beside Talagumpa and thought about Wendy.

His life had been turned upside down by her arrival not once, but three times to Neverland. The first time had been short and unsatisfying, Wendy accepting his hand to bring her to his world, but once there she had been reserved and nervous, shy of him and unwilling to take a risk. Despite that inauspicious beginning, he'd returned to bring her a second time, this visit a little longer, allowing him to show her more of his world and the people in it. But again, she had been reserved and wary, taking an instant dislike to the Indian Princess for no reason that Peter could fathom. But despite the difficult start to their relationship, or maybe because of it, he'd gone back a third time, determined to pursue this one girl above all others. If asked, Peter would have been hard pressed to explain why he'd chosen Wendy, his reasons still not clear to himself, let alone anyone else. That he was attracted to her physically was without dispute, his body wanting to leap out of its skin whenever she was near, the overwhelming urge to touch, caress, kiss and get closer driving him mad without really understanding why that was. He could no more explain the reason his heart almost leapt out of his chest, hammering like a drum every time he touched his lips to hers, or why the feel of her in his arms filled an empty place that had been steadily growing larger with each passing year. All he would have been able to explain was that this girl, this creature from another world far removed from the magic of Neverland, was what he needed, what he craved. Her touch aroused him in ways he never knew existed, his skin tingling wherever she touched, his body leaping to attention from so innocent an engagement as holding her hand or seeing her smile. Seeing her blush when he teased her made him want to tease her again and again, the delicate rose in her cheeks making heat bloom everywhere on his body, his toes curling when the scent of her hair reached out and wrapped him in invisible coils. If he could have done so, he would have wanted to fuse the two of them together, becoming one body, one mind, one heart, never to be parted or separated, entwined seamlessly. It was a far cry from his usual carefree existence, to want someone so badly he could almost taste the need making his blood race through his veins. Even the threat of Hook and his machinations weren't enough to stop his mind wondering where she was, when she would be back within his sight again, how soon before he could have her alone somewhere, his thoughts beyond that point too heated to contemplate. It was as if he had a fever, if such a thing were possible, as if he'd become infected by this girl, her very presence enough to send his blood singing and his hands reaching for her.

Without realizing, his musings had left him staring off into space, a lopsided grin twisting his lips as his thoughts consumed him. Seeing the lovesick look on Peter's face, the Chief lifted up the knobbly stick he used to bang on the ground for attention and poked the younger man with it. Peter jerked out of his reverie and blinked at the Chief, his hand lifting to rub at the spot where the stick had dug in.

“Ow.”

“If fighting Hook is so unimportant, why did you call this meeting?”

“Huh?”

“We are discussing war plans, and you are off,” the Chief made waving motions with his hand, “somewhere other than here.”

“Sorry Chief......er....I was thinking?”

“Thinking about her, I'm guessing.” Seeing Peter's face turn pink, Talagumpa chuckled to himself. “Leave us Peter, you're no good to us in this state. Take the girl somewhere and purge this love-sickness. When you are ready to talk about Hook and what we are to do, we will be here.”

“But.....” Peter looked around the circle, the braves and Lost Boy's oblivious to him and the Chief, the animated plans and outrageous suggestions being bandied back and forth washing over Peter like a wave. “I guess you're right chief. I'll go look for her and see how she's getting on with Lily.” He grinned wickedly at the Talagumpa, “you suggest a purge?”

“Take her somewhere far away. If Hook comes here, we'll do what we always do. He won't be any trouble.”

Peter rubbed his chin and thought for a moment. Snapping his fingers he jumped to his feet. “I know just the place. Thanks Chief, I'll be back.......”

“When you're back , as the Pan. When the warrior is ready to fight and the fool is satisfied.”

“Right.” Peter cocked an eyebrow at the grinning Indian Chief, the man's dark eyes twinkling up at him. Around the circle, the Lost boy's and braves had stopped their animated discussions and were staring at Peter.

“Peter? Where are you going?” Harry asked, the others suddenly silent as they waited for his answer.

“Oh....well....um....carry on men. I trust you to come up with something to foil the codfish and his cohorts. I have.....um....something to do.”

“But...” Crate started to argue, but Peter didn't stay to listen, waving his hand briefly before turning his back on the war council and walking away. All eyes swiveled to fix on the Talagumpa, the Chief lifting his broad shoulders in a shrug, before thumping the ground with his stick.

“We have talked enough. For the time being we must accept that the Pan is not going to be a part of these plans. Tell me what you have decided.”

The Lost boy's exchanged glances between each other, Crate's narrowed eyes following Peter's departure before turning back to face the chief. “This is what I think we should do......”

Peter sauntered through the Indian village, whistling merrily, that small task almost defeated by the grin that threatened to break out on his face every few seconds. Up ahead he noticed two Indian girls walking arm in arm, both dressed in fine deerskin but one with hair the color of jet, the other with hair that glinted gold in the sun. His heart jerked in his chest when he recognized Wendy as one of the girls, her face alive with laughter at something Tiger Lily was telling her.

“Wendy?”

The two girls stopped when Peter hailed them, their smiles turning secretive as they approached.

“Oh Peter, Lily took me to the most wonderful glade with this simply darling lake, with warm water and soap berry plants......”

“Wendy?” Peter interrupted her enthusiastic discourse, his eyes drinking in her curves beneath the softly draped Indian dress.

“Yes Peter?” Wendy looked back at him, her eyes a shining blue as she gave him her full attention. Tiger Lily looked on with some amusement, seeing Peter gazing back at her friend with such obvious absorption, her presence not wanted or acknowledged. She cleared her throat and Peter's gaze finally flickered over her for a brief instant before returning to it's former direction.

“Oh, hi Lily.....the war council is still going if you want to take part.”

“Thank you Peter....but I was going to show Wendy how to use a bow, if you remember.”

Now she had his attention, a frown creasing his forehead as he turned towards her. “You were?”

“Yes. You asked me to?”

“It'll have to wait......I need......er...I have to take Wendy to see something.”

“But Peter......I was looking forward to...” Wendy found herself suddenly free of Tiger Lily and being bundled along, back the way she'd come. “Peter please, at least let me say goodbye to the Princess!”

“No time.....gotta go now......” Peter muttered, his hand firmly about hers, as unyielding as steel. Wendy looked back at her new friend and shrugged helplessly, waving as Peter bore her on towards the edge of the tepee's.

“Goodbye Wendy.......I'll see you when you get back,” the Princess called after them, grinning at both her friends, recognizing the signs, determination on Peter's to have Wendy to himself, and a growing acceptance by Wendy to be had.

Peter was almost running now, Wendy towed in his wake until the inevitable happened and she stumbled, Peter barely pausing to swing her up in his arm and jump into the air all in the same move. Wendy gasped, wrapping her arms about his neck as the ground fell away and Peter carried her off.

“Good heavens Peter, if I didn't know better I'd think you just kidnapped me!”

“I did.”

“You did? But what about Hook, the pirates....don't you think they're going to attack the Indian village?”

“Maybe.....but the Chief has that all in hand and anyway, the braves outnumber the pirates plus the Lost boy's are there to help out.”

“Well, yes. But I thought you wanted me to learn how to use a bow? As you could see, the Princess and I are good friends now.”

“I did see, and I'm happy. I told you she was alright.”

“You did....and she was.” Wendy lay her head on his shoulder, not bothering to pay much attention to where they were going. “Did you....I mean, was there ever a time you thought......that is....” Wendy felt her cheeks heat up as she tried to voice the question begging for an answer. Peter glanced down at her and saw the small frown furrowing her brow.

“You want to know if I ever kissed Lily?”

Wendy's cheeks flared bright red and she wouldn't look at him. “She is very beautiful, and I think she might have thought that you and she......”

“I did get an Indian kiss from Lily after I rescued her from Hook's clutches. He'd taken her prisoner and tied her to a rock to drown.”

“Oh Peter, how horrible!”

“He only did it to get me there to rescue her. It worked, and as plans went it was a good one.”

“You admired his plan?”

“Hook is a cunning old codfish, but he can never win against me.”

“You're very sure of yourself.”

“Of course,” he gave her a smug smile, dark lights twinkling in his eyes before he turned his attention back to his flying.

“I see. And for rescuing the Princess you got a kiss?”

“An Indian kiss.” Peter lowered his head to hers and rubbed his nose against hers, nuzzling her cheeks but not kissing her in the conventional way, lip to lip. “That's an Indian kiss.”

“Oh. So you've never kissed a girl on the lips before you met me?”

“I didn't say that. Only that I hadn't kissed Lily that way.” Peter laughed at Wendy's outraged expression, choosing that moment to swoop down towards the ground in such a way to make his passenger clutch her arms more tightly about his neck and squeal in fright. As a ploy to take Wendy's mind off him and the Princess, it worked to a point, Wendy deciding to drop the discussion about Peter and his conquests and instead look about her and where he was taking her.

“Oh my....” Wendy whispered faintly, barely feeling her feet touch the ground as she gazed about her. Peter hadn't flown for every long, so she assumed they weren't very far from the Indian village. What she hadn't taken in to account was his speed, their trip in fact taking them round to the other side of the towering volcanic peak that dominated the islands topography. Here there was no evidence of habitation, the jungle as thick and impenetrable as virgin forest, the air filled with the fluting calls of multitudes of birds, whole flocks rising up from the canopy to wheel and flutter in colorful living clouds before settling again. The trees were very straight and tall, like columns of smooth bark, their lofty tops filtering the sunlight so that it fells misty and green to the ground below. Shafts of sunlight broke through and made bright patches on the leaf litter, making the shadows that much darker and mysterious. They had landed in a small clearing, its edges ringed with stones of different heights and shapes, the grass underfoot fringing the rocks and bases of the trees like fine strands of hair. As Wendy stepped forward she could see faint rings laid out on the ground, her first impression that they were formed by white stones, but a closer inspection telling her that they were small mushrooms just broaching the green sward, creating numerous small rings of fungi among the grass.

“This is a very special place,” Peter told her, “'tis full of magic.......fairy magic.”

“You can feel it. These must be fairy rings, and those standing stones, like the ones I've read about.”

“You have these in your world?” Peter's eyebrows had risen in surprise, his hands gravitating to his hips as he waited for her answer.

“Oh yes....well......the fairy rings were explained in a journal I read. Apparently the fungus spores spread out in ever widening circles each time they produce mushrooms.” She reached down to pick one, the white ball feeling soft and silky between her fingers. “I wonder if you can eat these.”

“Ur...Wendy? Please don't pick any more of those.....the fairies are rather particular about their special place.”

“Oh, sorry.” She bent down and replaced the mushroom where it sat, now canted on one side. She walked over to one of the large upright stones, her fingers grazing over the surface, surprised to feel faint indentations under her fingertips, a carved pattern appearing faintly on the rough face of the rock. “There's something carved onto this rock.”

“They hold the ancient fairy magic at their heart,” Peter explained, coming to stand beside her, his own hand reaching out to touch the grey rock face. “Every full moon the fairies gather here to dance and feast and hold their fairy councils. It's quite a spectacle.”

“How wonderful. The moon was nearly full last night, will they be coming tonight?”

“Maybe,” Peter smiled secretively. “But we'll have to wait until dark to find out. In the meantime, I wanted to show you something else.”

“Neverland is truly full of the most wonderful things Peter. I'd imagine you'll never, ever want to leave here.”

“Of course not. Why would I ever consider such a thing?”

“Oh, no reason.” Wendy fiddled with the beading on her dress. “I'll have so much to tell my brothers when I go home again, and mother and father will never believe half of what I'll tell them about Neverland.”

Peter gaped at her disbelievingly. “What are you talking about? You're not going home, you know that. You're here for ever and ever!”

“Oh no Peter.....I couldn't do that. Why my poor parents might think me dead and grieve quite unnecessarily, and what about my poor brothers, they will cry and think me gone forever. I can't do that to my family.”

“But....but.....” Peter stammered, his face turning quite pink. “You can't leave me...I won't allow it.”

“Won't allow it?” Wendy turned slowly to face him, her own color high. “Won't allow it!”

“I'm the King, you're my Queen......Neverland accepts you, the Indian's, even the princess accept all this. Why do you not?”

“Because it isn't right. This is all a lovely dream Peter, but just a dream. A very detailed and exciting dream, I'll grant you that, but I can't stay here...I don't belong amongst fairies and pirates and mermaids. I have a family, a place in my world, a future to consider. I'm not a child to run away from all that.”

“But you'd run away from me?” His hurt, bewildered expression tore at her heart, but she remained firm, imagining her mother's face, her family's heartbreak if she never returned.

She reached out a hand to him, “I can always come and visit?” Her hand touched empty air, Peter having jerked back from her, his face contorted with frustration.

“Visit? To do that you'd have to have gone and come back from here. You can't leave, I won't let you.”

“Peter,” Wendy spoke in a voice she recognized as Miss Finchin's at her most prim, “are you suggesting to hold me prisoner here? For I tell you now, it won't do!”

Peter was struggling to contain his temper, his thwarted desire making him stalk back and forth across the green grass, his brows drawn down over his eyes. Wendy stood and watched, her chin held high and her hands clasped in front of her, trying desperately not to shake and show how fearful she was. She could see that Peter was working up to a towering rage, his shoulders and arms bunched with hard muscle as he clenched and unclenched his fists. Swallowing hard, she held to her resolve and lifted her head another notch. Peter abruptly stopped his pacing and turned to face her, his expression clearing like the sun coming out from behind a cloud.

“This is a test, isn't it? Something you and Lily cooked up to tease me.” He crossed his arms and looked smug at having figured out why she was being so contrary. Wendy wanted to stamp her foot and slap the silly grin off his face.

“Of all the silly things to say, of course it's not a test. It's the truth Peter. I can no more abandon my family than you can abandon Neverland forever. It's not the right thing to do, and I won't do it.”

Waving his hand as if to dismiss her words unsaid, Peter continued to regard her with his infuriatingly smug smile, unfolding his arms before swaggering over to her, circling around where she stood.

“It won't work....I don't believe you. You can't lie to me Wendy.....I know.”

“Know what?” She could feel heat rising in her face as her own temper started to take over, her fingers clenching into fist to box his ears if he would only come close enough.

Peter continued to circle around her, his eyes dancing, waving his hand towards her features. “You can't lie to me with those eyes, or that mouth. Want me to prove it?”

Wendy's temper boiled over and she took a swing at him, Peter dancing back out of reach and laughing, the sound further enraging her. “You touch me Peter Pan and I'll.....I'll......box your ears!”

As if to test her, Peter spread his arms wide and bent forward, tilting his head to bring his chin within her reach, an impudent eyebrow rising to taunt her. With a hiss of fury, Wendy lunged, her small fist swiping through the air and missing completely, her wrist caught in a vice like grip, her swing catching her off balance. Peter used his grip to his advantage, Wendy literally falling into his arms as he twisted her arm behind her back to hold her in place, bringing them chest to chest. She struggled,but couldn't twist free of his grip, her bare feet making no impression on his shins, her free hand quickly caught and held behind her back with the other. Glaring up at him, Wendy could only purse her lips as his came down to claim their prize, her mouth clamped shut against his persuasive enticement. Peter maintained his sweet assault a few seconds before pulling away, Wendy's eyes shooting sparks into his as she fumed silently, her mouth shut to him. Keeping her hands behind her back within his clasp, Peter used his free hand to roam over her face, ignoring her head toss and furious glare. Tracing her cheek, he had to pull his hand away when she tried to bite him, her lips pulled back, baring her small, white teeth.

Wendy was keeping up her ferocious stance with some difficulty. Peter held her effortlessly plastered against his body, her chest mashed against his, his legs braced to keep his feet as her own tried to find purchase. His very nearness was undermining all her defenses, his heat through her dress melting her resistance as she struggled to get away. Her attempt to bite him had been a reflex born of fear that if he tried to kiss her again she'd not be able to stop herself kissing him back. His presence was enough to make her knees go weak and her head spin, the puff of his breath against her cheek sending shivers up and down her spine, the tug and pull of her dress as he shifted his balance against her body making her gasp in shock as tingles prickled her skin. Without realizing it, she was relaxing into his hold on her, her body accepting even as her mind continued to rebel, his quick grin of triumph unacknowledged as her eyes slid shut and her lips welcomed his.

He released his grip on her hands, his mind crowing as he accepted her capitulation, his arms wrapping around her and pressing her closer, in truth wanting to meld the two of them together, all anger and enmity washed away in the flood of feeling coursing through him everywhere they touched. Her arms no longer confined, she quickly wrapped them around his neck, her response to his kiss all the more intense having only seconds before wanted to hate him, but now could only melt against him and give herself up to his eagerly plundering mouth.

Somehow they ended up laying on the soft grass, lips and tongues still enthusiastically exploring new territory, legs entwined and arms wrapped about the other. Peter's large hand was roaming over the soft surface of her dress, dipping into the hollow of her waist and over her hip, tracing the contour of her thigh then back up again, smoothing over the deerskin as if leaning her shape and texture. Her own were not exactly still, taking their own journey over his shoulders and arms, kneading the muscles bunched under the sun warmed skin, her fingers threading through his hair and scalp, tracing the shape of his ears and nape, all the while yearning for something more. When his hand closed over her breast she realized just what more could entail. With great reluctance she wrenched herself away from him, her mouth open as she gasped for air, still bound within his arms, but her mind a little clearer once free of his drugging kisses.

“Peter.....Peter stop....”

Peter didn't hear her, his mouth occupied with mapping her neck while his hand marveled at the hard pebble against his palm as he brushed it repeatedly over her breast. Wendy groaned and flung her head back, well aware, even if her lover was not, of where this was all leading.

“Peter, we have to stop........now.” Shoving hard against his shoulder, Wendy managed to get his attention, Peter lifting his head to blink at her, his hand not stopping it's wicked fondling even as he focused on her wide eyes and flushed face.

“What did you say?” He grinned at her and leant forward to capture her mouth again. Wendy twisted her face way and thumped her fist against his arm.

“No Peter.....we can't do this. We have to stop!”

“Why? I'm liking this,” he nuzzled her cheek with his nose, “You're liking this,” he squeezed her soft breast through the dress, “why do you want to stop?”

“Be-because.....” Wendy found it hard to concentrate, Peter lapping at the skin under her jawline, his hand tracing circles around her breast, circling closer to the peak even as his leg nudged between hers, his bodies response to their lovemaking hard against her thigh. “Because....” she swallowed and fought for control over her wayward body. “I'm a lady, and ladies don't do this with gentlemen until they are married.” She sighed deeply as Peter's hands and mouth stilled against her. “I can't do this with you......I'm....I'm a virgin. On-only my husband is allow-allowed to go this far....” Peter was like a block of stone against her, cold and hard. Slowly he lifted his head and stared at her with his fathomless eyes, their sparkle gone.

“I am the king and you are my queen. That makes this right.”

“No Peter, it doesn't. Kings and queens are just make believe, and I can't let this go that far. I'm sorry, but I can't.”

Peter tried to lean forward and kiss her again but Wendy turned her head to thwart him, her body shaking as she fought for control. The enormity of what she'd been so close to doing had been like a douse of cold water, every moral fiber screaming out that it was wrong, her heart wailing that it was right and her head fighting its own battle against her frustrated desire. Something in her stillness communicated this to Peter, his grip on her loosening. Slowly he pulled away from her, sitting up so that his back was to her. Wendy sat up as well, pushing her hair back off her face and tugging at her dress in an attempt to calm herself.

“Is there someone.....back there? Do you already have a husband?”

“No.....no I don't have a husband.”

“But you won't let me be your husband?”

“You can't be Peter.....this isn't the real world...this is Neverland where fairies and pirates live, where dreams are made real and you live an enchanted life. It isn't real.....not like my world.”

“I don't understand. You're not making any sense!”

Silence fell over them, Wendy drawing her legs up and turning away from him. All around them the forest fluttered and breathed, birds wheeling over head, filling the air with their peeping cries, ignoring the silent pair below in the glade.

“I think I should go home now.”

Getting to his feet, Peter held out his hand to her, his face averted. Wendy took his hand, her eyes lowered. The sun was directly overhead, it's heat seeping in to her frozen limbs as they slowly rose into the air, Peter leading rather than holding her, his eyes never once meeting hers as he flew her back towards the Indian village. A thin plume of smoke rose from the forest, indicating where the pirates had tried to fire the huge tree, their efforts useless and already being repaired by the tree itself. The village came into view and Peter set them down just outside the first of the buffalo hide tents. Wendy was biting her bottom lip to stop the tears from breaking through, her vision blurry as she faced the tepees. Peter had distanced himself and stood off to the side, his hands hanging by his side.

“I'll arrange for a fairy guide to take you back. Goodbye Wendy.”

Choked by her misery, Wendy couldn't raise her head, her fingers twisting together as she tried to speak past the lump in her throat. Unable to bear the silence a second longer, she lifted her eyes only to find Peter gone, the forest silent around her. Overhead the sun was blotted out by clouds massing above the trees, a chill wind brushing past her and making her skirt flap around her legs.

“What have I done?”

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21/11/06

chapter: six – villainy afoot

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Peter flew through the air as if a dragon was nipping his heels, his sword arm swinging back and forth, lopping off chunks of tree top as he passed, the blade flashing and reflecting the few shafts of sunlight still penetrating the darkening cloud layer overhead. Unable to pacify his anger with fighting inoffensive trees, he flew like a streak of lightning towards the coast, to where the Jolly Roger rode at anchor. Peter wanted to fight someone, anyone and he sorely hoped that there were enough pirates left aboard the ship to satisfy his blood lust. Shadowing his every move, a bright speck of light fluttered in his wake, ducking and diving to miss the leaves and branches unfortunate enough to get in Peter's way. Tinkerbell had all but forgotten why Peter had banished her, and anyway, he never meant it for very long, so she had come in search of him, not at all surprised to find him in a towering rage and venting his spleen left and right. Keeping a safe distance, she tagged along , her light bobbing back and forth whenever Peter seemed to be looking in her direction, making sure he couldn't spot her right away. Her luck held and Peter remained oblivious to his fairy friends' presence, too intent on finding something that would fight back to worry about anything else. Tinkerbell, seeing the gathering clouds and flashes of lightning correctly surmised that it was all the fault of that lumping great girl that had the Pan in such a temper, the tiny fairy feeling suitably smug that the silly ass had only taken Peter's interest for so short a time. Sure that she would be welcomed with open arms, Tinkerbell preened herself and darted forward to catch up with him, the Pan already diving towards the ground and leaving his glowing shadow far behind.

Lazily wallowing among the waves, the ship below looked innocent and deserted, Peter swooping down with a yell and his sword swinging, only to find nobody there to fight after all. Despite searching the entire upper deck, he found no-one to lure into a good slanging match, let alone a fight. Doubly frustrated he perched on the topmost mast, digging his sword into the wood before settling down to brood on what had happened.

Tinkerbell, seeing Peter engrossed in the horizon, settled herself in the fold of a sail and waited to see what happened next. Off in the distance she thought she heard the distant boom of a cannon, but dismissed it as thunder, the sky getting ever darker as the minutes passed. The ship was starting to pitch and toss, held in place by it's huge anchors, but not immune to the rising swell, the waves now white capped and angry. The wind was rising, whipping and snapping at the canvas sails, catching any loose ropes and making them dance like snakes, Peter apparently impervious to the building wrath of nature, his mood perfectly matched by the weather.

Brooding over what had happened, he tried to make sense of it all, his mind replaying as much of the conversation he could remember, the parts not overshadowed by his clamoring emotions or his over eager response to kissing Wendy. One minute he'd been part way to paradise, the next, he'd held an armful of insane female, spouting all sorts of nonsense about going home, and grieving parents and other such idiocies. He was sure that, until he'd made the mistake of filling his palm with her soft breast, Wendy had been as excited and eager as himself, her kisses as wild and sweet as strong wine, more potent than the beer the Indian's brewed. It had been only when he'd found the hard pebble of flesh beneath her dress that she'd struggled to be free and started spouting a load of cods wallop about husbands and the rights and wrongs of what they were doing. Peter shuddered, the very word husband making his insides twist, as if the word alone was enough to strike a mortal blow. He thought he'd made it clear to her, that he, Peter Pan was to be her all, her King, her prince, her husband, her everything, hadn't he told her so? The thought gave him pause; had he told her that, had he made it clear to her? If he hadn't, could that be why she was so set on going home? Would that be all that was needed to make her happy, make her stay?

Indignation flared and his eyes gleamed, how dare she want to go home! Neverland had more than enough to offer any mortal, let alone one truculent girl. There was food and shelter and Neverbushes for clothes, and that was only the basics. He hadn't had a chance to show her the real treasures of Neverland, the Diamond Grotto with it's sparkling walls or the Dazzling River were jewels of every color mixed with the grey river gravel. And what about the Rainbow Waterfall, or the Emerald Lake, all were treasures he had wanted to share with her, to watch her wonderment as he displayed Neverland's beauty to her. He had lived with such marvels all his life and took them for granted, using precious stones like marbles and hardly noticing the wonders around him. But with her, he could see them all again through her eyes, relive the joy of discovery and awe, experience it all for the first time with her, as well as pursue more earthly pleasures, those that had only been hinted at up to now.

Not that long ago he wouldn't have considered having a girl live with him in Neverland, his antipathy to females and their wiles, largely influenced by his abandonment by his mother, leaving him a carefree and callous boy with no thought beyond the next battle or meal. His life had been untrammeled and heart free, no cares or worries to weight him down or make him think that there might be more to life than being a child forever. Then he'd lost his shadow, one night while he skipped about the rooftops of London, the wily shade darting out of reach and leading him on a merry dance among the chimney pots and slates until it disappeared through an open window and beyond his reach. As far as he knew, it was still there, hidden away by the grownup that found it, lost to him, and with it, his perpetual childhood. From that night on he felt the change grow large within him, his body reflecting the changes with a growth spurt that left his younger companions behind, his height and breadth doubling until he was an equal to Hook in strength and reach. Along with the physical changes came the emotional ones, feelings intruding where before they had remained banished and ignored. He became moody and irritable, the Lost Boys learning the warning signs and keeping clear of him when his moods turned violent, Peter's physical strength deterring everyone but the most foolhardy to wrestle with him, only Jack and Crate daring to stand up to the Pan. Fortunately for all, Peter's unsettled period passed quickly, his emotional ravages leaving Neverland with a crop of new and interesting scars, but it's inhabitants largely undamaged by the storms. Now a new and unsettling emotion was causing the wind to rise and the seas to boil, love creating a host of new emotions that he was ill equipped to either deal with or understand, his body on fire to explore the new feelings, his heart acting erratically to the mere presence of Wendy anywhere near him, and his emotions in a turmoil of conflicting desires. He thought that simple action would be enough to expunge the jealousy and hurt fighting with his burgeoning passion and sense of loss, but that had proved to be unfulfilled by the simple fact that all the pirates appeared to be on land, instead of aboard ship.

Frustrated, he stared out at the gathering storm on the horizon and tried to think of a way he could change the way things were turning out.

A bright flash of lightning, followed by a sudden, chilling downpour, shook him out of his depressing thoughts, his head tilting as he opened his mouth to drink of the rainwater, the liquid icy on his tongue. Soaked to the skin, he stared ruefully up at the dark clouds circling his head, the rumble of thunder like the growl of a big cat thwarted of its prey. Why did it suddenly matter so much that this one girl stay and bear him company, didn't he have friends enough, didn't he have distractions aplenty to banish boredom? Why, oh why did he have this overwhelming need to go back and beg her forgiveness and plead with her to stay, what had happened to his independence, his pride, his aloofness? Apparently it only took a pair of sea blue eyes to shatter all his previous notions on life and living it. Half disgusted with himself, Peter couldn't stop the wry grin from sneaking on to his lips, his brows gradually lifting as his spirit lightened and his heart took flight. At once the downpour ceased to drench him, the clouds above his head ceasing to whirl like tornadoes, their color changing from black to grey but not entirely to fluffy white. Shaking his head like a dog and sending spray in all directions, Peter started to laugh, the chuckle starting deep in his chest and rising like the sun until it broke from his mouth in a loud burst of sound, the shout turning into a crow as he leapt into the air in a burst of energy, throwing off his melancholy and instead starting to use his head. All he needed to do was show Wendy what she really meant to him, demonstrate his feelings in all their turbulent glory and she would surely see that he was worth a hundred times more than returning home to dreary London and her unexciting life. Of course, he'd have to come up with a something to ameliorate not seeing her family again, but surely he, the Pan was more attractive than any family could be? Of course he was, the supreme arrogance of beautiful youth giving him the only answers he'd listen to. Satisfied that his course was clear, Peter circled the empty pirate ship, flying loop-de-loops over the deserted decks before somersaulting once and heading towards the tropical shores waiting patiently for his attention.

Soaked, battered and not a little out of temper, Tinkerbell fluttered her wings and shook out her short skirt, shivering dramatically before heading off after Peter, her tinkling cries for him to slow down going unheeded as she struggled to keep up with his rapidly disappearing form.

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Wendy regretted her hasty demand to go home almost immediately, her calls to Peter to come back choked off as her tears strangled her and his body disappeared from sight. In despair she sank to the ground, her head bowed, unable to face seeing Tiger Lily or anyone right at that moment. With her hands over her face, she tried to make sense of her conflicted feelings. It was true she missed her family terribly, but it was also true that there was something about Peter that was proving almost irresistible, her heart bouncing around whenever he happened to glance her way, his touch enough to make her almost swoon. On top of all this was the delights of Neverland itself. If she had to describe to another person the perfect place in all the world, Neverland would encompass almost everything she could think of. Added to it's natural charms was the excitement of knowing that a magical element existed as well, something that had been a part of many of her dreams as a child, her imagination supplying the magic when her mundane world failed to produce it. Now to have visited a place where magic really existed, to see it, touch and even be apart of it was all her fantasies come true. Neverland even made her most fantastical stories seem tame by comparison, the reality of seeing fairies dance and a boy fly unaided by mechanical contrivance was almost too good to be true. It was like she was a little girl again, staring so hard at the illustrations in a book, so wishing they were real and that she could step into the pictures and dance with the elves and pixies. Here in Neverland she was at last in the illustration, a part of the story between the pages of a wonderful book. As if that dream wasn't enough, the characters inhabiting this book had become real for her, the hero as handsome as any hero she'd read about, more handsome and daring than Robin Hood, or Sir Galahad, and added to all that she was living the part of the heroine, swept of her feet into the best of all romantic stories. It was all so confusing and wonderful and alarming to be apart of one's own fantasy, bringing with it expectations that she was ill prepared to meet, along with a welter of intense emotions that she felt ill-equipped to deal with. It was easy to ask to return to her home, to the security of her former life where nothing more was expected of her other than to grow up, behave and become a nice, safe, loving wife to some unimpeachable young man, together to live a life of peace and quiet and not one iota of excitement. Did she really want to go back to that? Was she really prepared to give up every fantasy she'd ever had, including several she'd not even thought of yet, for the sake of seeing her dear family again? Could she really so heartlessly leave Peter behind her and go one to love another in his place?

A sound behind her jerked Wendy out of her internal contemplations, her head half turning to see who was behind her only to have a large and very calloused hand clamp firmly around her face, blocking any sound she might attempt to make as well as rendering her frozen in shock.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” A voice hissed in her ear, hot breath fanning her hair against her cheek.

Hauled to her feet by a brawny arm clamped about her waist, Wendy found herself swung up and around, her fingers scrabbling at the hand still pressed against her mouth, her nostrils flaring as she sucked in air, her heart thundering in her ears as she watched first one then half a dozen disreputable looking men appear from the thick undergrowth, their narrowed eyes fixed on her as they crept silently forward. The loud boom of a cannon sounded nearby, the cries and shouts of the Indian's racing to defend their village from attack drawing further away while Wendy stared wide eyed at her kidnappers.

“Let's get the chicken trussed and get outta here.” One pirate growled, gesturing for another man to come forward and start securing rope around Wendy's ankles and knees, her hands yanked down and tied in front of her, while a greasy rag replaced the leathery hand, just as effective in keeping her quiet. When she lay at their feet, immobile and terrified, the small party of pirates allowed themselves to relax a tiny bit. The first part of the plan was complete, now they just had to leave the village without being seen and carry their prisoner back to the prearranged rendezvous with their Captain, while also keeping a look out for the Pan. Unable to do more than mew her protest, Wendy found herself lifted and hung over one man's wide shoulders, her head hanging down his back, the world spinning dizzily below her as the raiders left the outskirts of the Indian village and made their way silently back into the jungle. In her mind she screamed for Peter, screamed for him to fly down and rescue her, her fears escalating when the pirates around her deemed themselves far enough away not to need to be quiet anymore and started to make comments about Wendy and her fate at the hands of their cruel Captain. After an hour of tramping through the thick jungle, the men paused to rest in a small clearing beside the narrow track, wiping sweat from their faces and leering openly at their nearly insensible captive. All round them birds called to each other, whistling and hooting oblivious to the small raiding party gathered below. Wendy tried to wish herself up into the trees and away from the awful pirates, but her thoughts were anything but happy and her body remained held by gravity against the uneven ground. The man who had the task of carrying her had dropped her with little care, Wendy sure that she would be black and blue by the time they reached their destination, whatever that might be. Just as she managed to roll herself upright, another pirate appeared from the jungle, his dark hair and dark clothing marking him apart from the others. Cold black eyes swept over her and sent a chill down her back, his swaggering stride carrying him past her recumbent form until he stood among the ruffians, a wine skin appearing in his hand to be passed around the pirates.

“Good work lads......you got the wench. Hook sends his complements and tells you all to drink up, me hearties.”

Tossing the wine to the nearest pirate, Black Jack grinned widely and watched as the man gulped down the sweet liquor with scant regard to it's quality or taste. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, the pirate then passed it to his mate, the action repeated until all the members of the raiding party had taken a good mouthful. Taking the skin from the last man, Jack made to lift it to his own lips, but then held it out in a toast before taking a sip.

“I give you the most black hearted pirate ever to sail the Neverland seas!”

To a man the pirates turned to stare at Jack, mouths opening to query or protest but unable to do either as, one by one, they succumbed and slumped to the jungle floor like so many broken puppets. Wendy looked on helplessly while the black haired pirate carefully checked each man, satisfied that the drug had done it's worst and rendered them all unconscious. Putting the cork back into the neck of the wine skin, Jack slung it once more over his shoulder and finally turned his attention to the captive sitting dumbfounded beside the trail.

“I suppose you're wondering.......no, I know you are wondering what I'm about, but it is too soon to tell all, so you'll have to wait and find out, as Hook and your precious Pan will....in the fullness of time.” He grinned good-naturedly at Wendy, squatting down on his haunches to check that her gag was still in place and her hands secured. Slicing through the bonds securing her knees and ankles, Jack hauled his captive to her feet, keeping a hand on her shoulder to steady her when she swayed. Wendy could only stare at the newcomer while blood flowed into her legs, tears springing to her eyes with the pain.

“Stamp your feet, it'll help.” Jack suggested before turning away and making a quick search of the men spread insensible on the ground before him. Wendy started to edge away, sure that she had a chance of escape. Unfortunately she only got as far as three steps before Jack returned to her side, hung about with an assortment of weapons stripped off his comrades. “Come now my lovely.....you don't want to be leaving Black Jack so soon?”

Grasping her upper arm, Jack led Wendy off the trail and into the jungle, careful to check behind him and cover up any trace of their passing by sweeping away their footprints in the dirt. Looping a length of rope through the binding around Wendy's hands, he pulled her along behind him like a tame goat, her efforts to slow him earning her a sharp jerk on the line that made her wince from the pain in her wrists as the rope cut into her flesh. Wherever her original captors had been taking her too, she was now being led away in an entirely different direction and always further away from the Indian Village and possible rescue. To make her situation worse, the leaden skies that had been threatening finally unburdened themselves, drenching Wendy within seconds in a downpour that wiped away any trace of their passage through the jungle. Her captor, who she supposed must be the Black Jack that Peter had mentioned, the former Lost Boy turned pirate, seemed unperturbed by the weather, his face lifting to the rain in apparent pleasure as he tugged his reluctant captive along behind him. At one point, while the skies still thundered down around them Jack turned and flashed a bright grin at Wendy.

“You must have really put his nose out of joint girl. What did you say to him to put him in this sort of temper?”

Almost blinded by the rain and her hair, Wendy's only reply was to turn her head and ignore the question, Jack not really expecting an answer and tugging her forward as he pushed through the dripping jungle. Soon the rain stopped, the vegetation starting to steam as the sun made an appearance, springing into the sky as if catapulted there, heat radiating so hotly from it's blazing face that Wendy could almost imagine it had moved closer to Neverland for the sole purpose of drying it out as quickly as possible. In less time than she would have ever thought possible, both she and the jungle were dry once more, the birds resuming their fluting chorus as if torrential downpours and quick drying jungles were an everyday occurrence. Feeling a trifle light headed, Wendy mused that maybe they were and she should expect all manner of strange weather phenomenon before the day was done. Large rocks had started to appear between the trees, huge monoliths that dwarfed the humans walking between them. Some of the surfaces appeared decorated with carvings, the swirling patterns running like snakes over the surface of the boulders, Wendy feeling the world start to tip as she stared at one particularly ornate example, the surface carvings swirling around her head like whirling dervish.

“Easy girl.....put your head between your knees and take deep breaths.” Jack's unwanted presence made her jerk back, black spots dancing in front of her vision. Ignoring her physical protest, Jack drew Wendy down to sit on a small rock perfectly suited for for the purpose, his knife flashing in front of her eyes for a moment as he sliced off the gag, Wendy drawing in huge gasps of air as she flopped forward, doing exactly as he suggested.

“Still got a ways to go before sundown, and I'm not up to carrying you, despite your slender form,” Jack laughed, sliding his knife back into its holder before turning to survey the rocks around them. “Impressive aren't they?” He tilted his head to indicate the carved monoliths. “Used to come here all the time in the old days. Played hide and seek, hunt the Lost Boy, where's the fairy.....them's was good times.”

Feeling better, Wendy raised her head and stared up at the tall youth, her hands lifting to shade her face from the sun. “Why did you give up being a Lost Boy is you enjoyed it so much?”

“Well there's the rub, you see. Can't be two Pan's in Neverland, only room for one at a time. I thought it was time Peter stepped down and let me take his place. He disagreed, so we fought over the issue. Peter won, I left......and joined Hook.”

“And became a pirate,” Wendy finished, lowering her head and staring at her hands. “Was it so bad having Peter as your leader? How is Hook an improvement?”

“Have you met Hook?” Jack asked, folding his arms and leaning against one of the towering stones.

“No.....but I've heard a bit about him.”

“He's a fearsome Captain and a bastard when his temper's roused, which, with Peter Pan taunting him every chance, is often. What choice did I have? Join the Indian's? Not likely.....I had no liking to live like a savage, no more than I wanted to live aboard that maggoty barge the Jolly Roger. But I had to go somewhere.......so Hook was offered my services and he took me aboard.” Jack lifted a wine skin from around his back, uncorking it and holding it out for Wendy to take a drink. Seeing her withdraw he frowned briefly before letting out a bark of laughter. “This isn't the drugged skin......threw that away long since. Just plain water.” He held the skin out again and this time Wendy took it between her bound hands. After a mouthful or two she handed it back.

“Why have you kidnapped me?”

“Maybe I just want to put a spoke in the Pan's wheel....” Jack offered, waving his hand airily. Wendy sniffed.

“Hardly worth all this trouble just to upset Peter. Plus you'll have Hook on your trail before too long. His men were taking me to him, weren't they?”

“What they were, or were not to do is in the past. I have you know and intend to keep you. Hook can go to the devil, and the Pan with him. I have my eyes on another prize.”

“But what has that to do with me?”

Jack suddenly shed his nonchalant attitude and lent down to gather up the rope. “What I want is my business and none of yours, Miss Nosy Parker, so keep your trap shut and those feet walking. I want to put more distance between us and them before it gets dark.” Yanking on the rope Jack pulled Wendy to her feet and set off between the stone monoliths, passing from shadow into sunlight like a dark wraith ahead of her. They continued onwards, passing beyond the forest of stones, plunging once more into the depth of the jungle, the cries of birds and thrum of insects enveloping them as the sunshine became dappled and filtered green through the leafy canopy. After another hour of tramping over leaf mold and lichen they reached a demarcation, the lush greenery giving way to blackened and twisted tree trunks, the ground grey with ash. Burnt fingers off bushes and plants rose out of the ash like skeletons begging to be released from the ground, no evidence of leaves on any of the tortured limbs. Barely pausing, Jack tugged Wendy forward, the ash rising up and coating his knee high black boots in seconds, Wendy's skin turning grey as tiny eddies of ash swirled around her legs and skirt. Here there was no shelter from the sun, the bleak landscape stretching away down into a steep valley and up the other side and over the ridge.

Jack didn't stop to look around, his stride lengthening so that Wendy almost had to trot to keep up. Turning his head to left and right, he looked nervous, the tension reaching out and enveloping his captive so that she almost screamed when a growl came from behind and off to the right.

“There's something behind us!” Wendy yelped, twisting against the rope to peer over her shoulder.

“Run you stupid girl! We have to get across this blasted valley before the Ashbeast catches us.....don't fall or we're lost!”

“Untie my hands! I can't run like this!” Wendy cried out, her eyes wide as another growl, closer than the last, sounded from nearby. “Untie me!”

Skidding to a halt, Black Jack hesitated only a second before slashing through Wendy's ropes, his fingers closing over her bruised wrist to pull her forward, his knife left unsheathed as they ran forward. Grey soot and dust rose up around them, choking the air as their feet pounded across the scorched earth. Wendy didn't dare look behind her, too intent on keeping her feet as they skidded and slithered down the steep hillside, a trickle of grey water snaking over the valley bottom. A mournful howl sounded from above them, echoing off the hills around them as they scrambled over the creek and up the other side, feet and boots slipping on the inches thick ash. The air was thick with the smell of burnt wood, tendrils of smoke rising up from some of the stunted bushes as the two humans scrabbled together up the slope, the insistent howls chasing their heels. Jack pushed and pulled Wendy to the ridge ahead of him, turning back to face the creature stalking them, a blast of heat washing across the slope as they broached the peak of the hill. Wendy slipped and tumbled over, a scorching wave of fire singing her feet as she rolled down the other side, a cry behind her and a roar presaging another wave of broiling heat before she landed in a disheveled heap up against the broad trunk of a tree, the air knocked out of her in a rush. The cool shade revived her quickly and she stared up the slope, noting the cut off line where the burnt vegetation gave way to lush greenness once more. Black Jack seemed to be fighting something invisible to her, his body twisting and turning, his dagger slashing out in wide arcs, the unseen enemy keeping the young pirate on his toes. Abruptly the fight was over, Jack thrust backwards as if from the force of a sweeping tail, his body flying through the air to land on his back a third of the way down the slope, thereafter to tumble head over heels and end up sprawled at Wendy's feet like a rag doll. A bright gush of yellow flame spurted over the edge, the creature responsible invisible behind the rocky ridge, a final bellow the only evidence of it's existence before it departed. Jack lay sprawled on his back, eyes closed, his hair and clothes singed in places as if he'd passed too close to a fire. Wendy coughed, reaching out a hand to see if the young man still lived. As her fingers tentatively touched his arm, Jack lurched in to life, his eye wide and mouth open as he scrabbled to regain his feet.

“What was that?” Wendy gasped, “what was chasing us, and why did it stop?”

Swaying, Jack reached down to give Wendy a hand up. “The Ashbeast......dragon.....whatever you want to call it, is slow, but deadly. We were lucky it was asleep and only halfheartedly decided to give chase.” Wiping a hand across his face, Jack didn't realize he'd left a wide swathe of soot like a black paint streak across his skin. Wendy could feel her own skin itch from the dirty dust coating her from head to toe, her eyes smarting and stinging.

“Why did it stop at the ridge?”

“Its' natural boundary. It eats only things that are burnt to a crisp. Magic keeps it from roaming too widely and devastating everything in its path.”

Disgusted at her grimy state, Wendy could only snort her disbelief. “Why keep such a creature here at all?” She had intended her question to be rhetorical, but Jack chose to ignore this and answered anyway.

“Would you prefer it running rampant in your world? If not safe in Neverland, where would it go? At least here it is limited and contained. It's one of the reasons I chose this way rather than another.”

“So we could get cooked by a dragon!” Wendy stared at him, “are you mad? I don't think much of your plan, whatever it might be.”

“Well, mad or not.....we're past the beast now, and none are likely to want to follow. Be so kind as to put your hands together...” Jack raised an eyebrow and held out the rope to bind her again.

“Must you? I'm black and blue already and hardly likely to want to try my luck returning through that valley.”

Tilting his head on one side, Jack regarded her for a long moment. “I think it wise to keep you close awhile yet girly, girl. I have a feeling there is more to you than meets the eye.”

Fuming, Wendy submitted to having her wrists bound, glaring mutinously at her jailer when he pulled out the grubby gag and wound it around a hand as if contemplating it's use. Apparently Jack thought better of the idea and used it instead to tie back his straggling hair from his face. Squinting up at the sky, Jack noted the sun starting it's downward path to evening, the heat of the day past and night starting to draw nearer with every minute. Clouds had started to gather off to the east, a veritable tower of thunderheads building impressively into the sky.

“I think your beloved Pan has discovered your absence. We could be in for a stormy night.” Tugging on the rope, Jack lead Wendy once more into the depth of the jungle greenery, the sky quickly blotted out as they tramped further into the wilds of Neverland.

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20/01/07

Chapter: Seven – The Hunt for A Wendy

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Peter arrived back at the Indian camp to find the place in turmoil. Several tepees were burning, the occupants aided by their neighbors in throwing buckets of water over their burning homes. The spiked palisade that usually protected the tribe was splintered and holed in several places, evidence of the use of a cannon and shot in the assault. Braves and Lost Boys scurried around like chaotic ants, voices raised in shouted commands and jumbled information about the enemy and defenses. His first thought was to find Wendy and ensure that she was safe, but his intentions were routed by the arrival of his troop of followers who all crowded round, shouting at the top of their lungs to be the one to tell Peter what had happened and their part in the defense of the village. Unable to make out a word, Peter jumped into the air and hovered a few feet of the ground, effectively shutting up his Lost Boys and making them focus on him.

“Quiet the lot of you! Obviously Hook has been here, I can see that for myself. Is anyone dead and where is Wendy?”

Crate elbowed his way to the front of the Lost Boys, waving his hands to shush the others before speaking.

“No one dead Peter, lots injured though. Haven't seen Wendy since you left with 'er this morning.”

“I left her outside the village.” Peter replied tersely, turning his head to find the one person who would know where Wendy might be. “Have you seen Tiger Lily?”

Tophat answered this time, his black tatty hat pushed to the back of his head. “She was in the thick of the fighting Peter, despite the Chief telling her to stay back. Over there's the last time I saw her,” he pointed to where a large crowd were gathered around Talagumpa, the Chief waving his fighting stick in some agitation. Touching down again, Peter marched over to the group and shouldered his way through to the Chief. He heard the Indian Princess' name mentioned by the braves and fear spiked in his chest. Talagumpa saw him and raised his hands to quiet the crowd.

“Pan, I am glad you are here.”

“Sorry I missed the battle Chief. Have you seen Wendy or Tiger Lily?”

“I have seen nothing of your Wendy, but the news is worse of my daughter. Hook has her.”

“Hook! What happened?”

“Ever impetuous my Tiger Lily,” the Chief threw his hands up, “took a party of braves to rout the pirates when they retreated. The braves returned, but not the Princess. Those that survived said that she was taken prisoner.”

“Have you sent a rescue party after them?”

“I was just organizing that when you arrived. Will you go Peter? Will you rescue my daughter?”

Peter bit his lip. No one seemed to know where his Wendy was, and now Tiger Lily urgently needed his help. The Lost Boys stood behind him, watching and waiting for orders.

“Crate, Tophat and Rat. Gather your weapons.” He didn't bother to watch as the boys raced off. “Chief, I'll need your fastest braves to go with me. We have to catch Hook before he returns to the Jolly Roger. If he has Tiger Lily, we need to free her as quickly as possible.” Peter paused as the Chief relayed the orders, a small group of young braves gathering to one side just as Crate returned with the other two Lost Boys, fully laden with weapons and provisions. Peter turned to the three boys and directed what they'd take. “We want to travel fast, so only load up what you need. Squid? I leave you in charge of the others. Make a search of the village for Wendy. If you find her, keep her safe until I return. If you don't, question anyone and everyone if they saw anything during the raid. I originally left her over there,” Peter pointed to the end of the village. “So start searching there if nothing else comes to light.”

“Aye, aye Peter!” Stretch and Squid both saluted their leader, Grub and Harry gazing apprehensively at Peter as he turned to join the search party for the Indian Princess. Overhead the once clear skies were starting to look ominous again, the angry grey of before now transformed into a towering white bank of cumulus, a veritable mountain of cloud that gleamed white and gold in the afternoon sun. As quickly as possible, the small rescue party took their leave of the village and their Chief, Peter leading the braves and Lost Boys out of through the broken palisade and into the tree-line to where the pirates had been last seen. One of their party was a survivor from Tiger Lily's group and led the way forward when Peter indicated him too, those remaining behind watching until the party of young men were swallowed up by the thick vegetation. Turning away, his face tight with worry, Chief Talagumpa issued a series of quick fire orders, sending his people scattering to set the village to rights and tend to the wounded. The remaining Lost Boys slowly turned away and trudged towards the end of the village to where Peter had said he'd left Wendy. They already knew that Wendy wasn't anywhere to be found among the tepee's, having conducted a quick survey from the onlookers gathered around the Chief. Now they searched the area beyond the village, Squid squatting down to inspect the ground every few paces.

“Over here, yous fellas over here.” Squid peered intently at the ground, his fingers running lightly over impression made in the dirt and leaves. He waited for the others to gather around before pointing out his find. “You can see here, and here.......there's been a scuffle, lots of boots and someone with bare feet, or at least one bare foot.”

“Wendy?” Harry asked, squinting and turning his head to see the impressions better.

“Could be.......it's a small print, narrow like a girls.”

“That's nothing.....Harry has teeny tiny feet,” Stretch snorted, elbowing Harry and ducking the blow aimed at his ear.

“Well I wasn't here, was I,” Harry pointed out, scowling at Stretch before turning his attention back to Squid. Grub peered between his companions legs, the better to see what they were all talking about.

“Yup, reckon it's pirates,” Squid rose up and stared at the surrounding trees. “They went off this way. Should we follow or report back?”

“We'll never catch up with Peter now, and they went off in the opposite direction,” Stretch observed, running the edge of his hand under his nose. “Best we follow these tracks and see where they take us.......eh.”

“What if we sent Grub back to the village to tell the Chief.....” Harry suggested, only to be shouted down by the smallest member of the Lost Boys.

“Oh no you bloody don't,” positively bristling Grub scowled horribly at his friends. “You don't leave me out of this adventure. Harry can go tell the Chief.....I'm going with you!”

“Well I'm not about to leave either, so you can forget that!” Harry shouted, stamping his feet and shaking a fist at Grub.

“Enough you insects. We follow the trail and see where it leads....agreed?” Squid asked, glaring at each member of his small band. “Agreed?”

“Yeah Squid, no need to shout. We're with you,” Stretch grinned at their temporary leader, then winked cheekily at the other two. Squid glowered but ignored the snickers behind his back.

“Right then. We have enough weapons and provisions......let's go.” Lifting his arm, he waved the small party of Lost Boys forward, leading them along the faint path quite some way before stopping again. “Summit happened here. Look at all that flattened grass and drag marks.” Squid paced the small area, counting under his breath. “Six in all.....laying down on the job, if'n you ask me.”

“What about Wendy?” Grub piped up.

“Hmmmm,” Squid peered at the ground, following the drag marks that led off in one direction, then retracing his steps to follow another, fainter, set of tracks leading off at right angles to the trail. “Someone tried to hide their tracks......” he muttered, bending down and brushing his hand over the ground. “Did an okay job....but not good enough to fool me!” Triumphant, Squid pushed back some branches at the side of the path and slithered through the gap, the others following as their leader disappeared from sight. An hour later they had reached the standing stones, the sun coloring them scarlet and orange as it slid towards the horizon, the sky overhead still dominated by the towering white cumulus, the clouds now tinged gold and pink by the setting sun. Stretch, Harry and Grub all collapsed gratefully on the ground, scattering their belongings as they panted heavily. Stretch passed around a water bladder while Squid went off to search around the huge monoliths for clues left by their quarry. They watched Squid work his way back towards them, finally flopping to the ground and accepting the water bottle and taking a swig.

“They was here alright.......didn't stop for long, I reckon, but passed on again.”

“I'm tired....” moaned Grub, using his pack as a pillow and curling up as if to sleep.

“Me too,” added Harry. “Can't we camp here for the night and carry on tomorrow?”

“Reckon that's a good idea Squid,” Stretch agreed with the younger members, his mind already on what they would have for a meal.

“And I reckon we push on and see where this leads us,” Squid growled, scowling at his dirty feet.

“But the sun is setting and it'll be dark soon,” Grub whined, looking to Harry and Stretch for support. The other's nodded in agreement.

“Sure enough Squid, this is as good a place as any. You know the ol' saying....early to bed, early to rise....we can be back on the trail before the quarry is awake!” Stretch waggled his eyebrows at Squid, in the hopes of winning him over.

Looking at each member of his troop, Squid had to concede they were all tired and hungry and ready for a rest. It had been a long day since their eviction from their tree home, all the planning of the defense of the village, then the battle itself, and now their trek across Neverland. “Alright.....we rest here. Stretch, see about getting a fire going, we can warm up a can of water and make tea.” Amid the chorus of hurrays from his companions, Squid found himself smiling. He enjoyed being a lieutenant and leading his small band of Lost Boys, the thought of Peter's gratitude when Squid found and returned the Wendy gave him a warm fuzzy feeling of impending success. Whoever had taken Wendy, and Squid had a fair idea who it might be, was unlikely to make much headway with a reluctant hostage, so catching up with them shouldn't take more than another day. The tracks indicated there was only one pirate to contend with, and up against four Lost Boy's he didn't stand a chance. Success was assured. On that happy thought, Squid turned his attention to the bustle around the camp fire and the smell of cooking food.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Wendy stared into the flames of the fire, her mind largely blank except for a constant litany that repeated endlessly. “Please find me Peter, please find me.”

Jack was sitting opposite her turning a rabbit on a stick, the fat off the carcass spitting sparks when it dripped into the flames.

“Nearly ready,”

Wendy looked up from her contemplation of the flames and stared at the young man responsible for her predicament.

“I need to.....I need to answer the call of nature. Please untie my hands?”

“Can't you manage as you are?” Jack asked, frowning at her. Wendy felt a flush of embarrassment creep up her neck and face.

“Do I need to beg?”

“Oh alright......but be quick about it. If your not back in two minutes, I'll come looking for you.” He deftly untied the knot and slipped the rope off her wrists. Wendy rubbed them gratefully then got to her feet, turning her head to find a suitable place. Jack pointed with his knife to a large bush at the edge of the firelight.

“That'll do. Use that one.”

Lifting her chin, Wendy padded over the to bush and ducked behind it. The thought of running did briefly cross her mind, but she really did need to relieve herself and she'd lost both moccasins in the flight from the Indian village, leaving her vulnerable. Plus she had no idea in which direction to run, having no possibly way on knowing where safety from Black Jack might be. Feeling more comfortable, Wendy shook out her Indian dress and emerged from the bush to find Jack already on his feet and walking around the fire.

“I need to wash my hands before I eat, they're black with soot,” she held out the offending articles which were quite awful in all their dirt. “You could do with a wash as well.”

“We passed a pond a little ways back Follow me, your highness, and you can wash up there. No tricks mind. If you try to run I'll truss you up and you won't be very comfortable for the rest of the night.....understand?”

Wendy nodded her compliance, waiting for Jack to lift a flaming brand to use as a torch from the fire and lead the way to the pond. They both looked as if they'd been sweeping chimneys, covered from head to foot with sweat and ash from their encounter with the Ashbeast, or dragon, as Wendy preferred to think of it. After a brief walk they reached the small pond, the surface dark under the trees, reflections of the torch flames dancing over its glassy face. Wendy knelt down and thankfully splashed water over her face and neck, wetting her hair as well before sluicing up her arms and cleaning her hands. Jack had to make shift one handed before he managed to wedge the firebrand among some rocks, then copied Wendy's ablutions and cleaned himself up. Feeling cooler and undoubtedly cleaner, Wendy followed Jack back to their campsite, the fire still burning merrily under the rabbit carcass. While Jack tended their meal, Wendy finger combed her hair back from her face before tying it at her nape with a length of fringing off her dress. Her feet and legs were still black, but at least she could eat her food without coating it with a layer of soot. Jack was finally satisfied that the meat was cooked sufficiently, lifting the stick from the flames and laying the steaming meal on a flat rock. Using his knife he cut the joint almost in half, handing the smaller portion to Wendy on a bed of thick leaves before attacking his own serving with obvious relish.

While enjoying the meal far more than she expected too, Wendy studied her gaoler as he devoured his portion of the rabbit. To her eyes Black Jack was the complete opposite of Peter, his coloring and everything about him in direct contrast to his former leader. Jack looked older than the age she suspected he was, Wendy suspecting that life among the pirates would be difficult and stressful, the more so for someone more used to swinging through trees than swabbing a deck. That Jack had risen quickly through the ranks proved that the young man was both intelligent and resourceful, a survivor with a glib tongue to keep him alive. In that he was very alike to Peter, Wendy smiling as she remembered some of Peter's more outrageous suggestions and cajolery. Not realizing that she was staring, Wendy was snapped out of her thoughts by a harsh laugh.

“See anything you like?”

Embarrassed to be caught out, Wendy blushed and ducked her head, concentrating on the remains of the rabbit. Jack chewed on his meal and stared across the fire at his captive. He was both surprised and intrigued by his prisoner, not having expected her to be so staunch in the face of adversity or so courageous. She wasn't as beautiful as Tiger Lily, at least not in his opinion, but that didn't detract from her other qualities. She had pluck and wasn't a watering pot, and her figure was trim, if not as rounded as the princess. In all quite an attractive package with her long, honey-gold hair and sky-blue eyes, Jack mused. That she was meant for Peter added a certain amount of interest, the idea of luring her away from him briefly passing through Jacks' thoughts, only to be discarded as an unnecessary distraction. His plans were still taking shape, the ultimate prize being the defeat of Peter Pan, the end of Hook's reign as Captain of the Jolly Roger and Black Jacks escape from Neverland with his skin intact and limbs whole. How Wendy fitted into this grand scheme was yet to be made clear, Jack only having a vague notion of Hook's plan to free them all from the clutch of the island. All he did know was that he had to get the wench deep into the White Mountains, the high ridge that ran along the spine of Neverland, the volcano peak at it's start and the sea at it's end. It would take them deep into uncharted territory, beyond, he hoped, the reach of Hook and his crew, and Peter's, albeit briefly. In his time spent with the Lost Boy's, the areas explored had only encompassed a small part of the island, the boys limited by how far they could go on foot or by canoe, the same limitations as set for the pirates and Indians. Only Peter had the freedom with flight to roam the length and breadth of Neverland, and Jack was sure that even Peter hadn't been everywhere. It would take more than one lifetime to explore every valley and river that was bordered by Neverland's rocky shores. Jack pulled himself out of his thoughts and glanced across at his captive. Wendy had eaten all of her rabbit and tossed the bones into the bushes. Now she sat yawning as she stared into the flames of the fire, her eyelids starting to droop. A brief spasm of pity gripped his heart but was just as quickly discarded.

“We'll be making an early start to get what sleep you can.....” As he spoke a distant howl rose up from far away, the sound soon joined by others, the eerie sound rising and falling and making the hair stand up on his neck.

“What.....what is that?” Wendy asked, her eyes very wide awake and dark.

“Nothing to worry about....as I said, sleep. We'll be gone by dawn.” Jack played with his knife and peered intently into the shadows beyond their small fireside. “I'll keep watch for awhile.”

The howls were dying away, gradually fading until only the crackle of the fire could be heard over the beating of his heart.

“There, see....all quiet again.....sleep.” He grinned into Wendy's worried eyes, deliberately keeping the grin in place even though his own fears were making him jumpy. Wendy slowly lowered herself down to the ground, cushioning her head on her arm, her body tense, her ears straining to hear any more of the unearthly howls. When it remained quiet, she started to relax, her eyes closing at last as she slipped into an uneasy slumber. Jack remained on alert, his assumed grin slipping as he put more wood on the fire and poked it to make the flames leap. He had heard of the wolf pack, but never seen them anywhere near to where the Lost Boys usually lived and played. By pushing deep into Neverland's dense jungles, they would quite likely meet a number of denizens never encountered before. Anyone more faint-hearted would turn back now and take their chances, but then anyone else wouldn't have the prize firmly fixed in their heads, as Jack did. With that in mind, he pulled out a small whetstone from the backpack and started to hone his knife, the rhythmic swish of the stone on metal settling his nerves until he was almost humming to himself in satisfaction. Tomorrow they would put more distance between themselves and their pursuers, even supposing that Peter and Hook knew where to look. More likely they were at a loss to find their quarry, or too busy to look, a situation that Jack would take every advantage of.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Tiger Lily stared at the men around her, mentally dispatching them all in every manner she could think off, the more gruesome the better. Several of them already sported a variety of injuries and the Indian Princess took pride in knowing that she had been the one to cause the wounds, as well as her braves and fellow villagers. Her raiding party had been a mistake, she realized that now, hindsight being a wonderful way to reflect on her rash bravado, but it had seemed too good a chance to miss, the pirates fleeing from the whooping Indian's until they, in their turn, faced their pursuers and a battle was on. Tiger Lily was sure they would have won if she hadn't fallen for Hook's trap and been captured so early on, her escort fighting like madmen to free her, only to die at the hands of the pirates, one by one. It had both maddened and grieved her to see her people cut down like wheat, her own fate nothing as she fought to be free, only a blow to the head finally bringing it to an end. When she awoke she was being carried far from the Indian village towards the coast and whatever fate Hook had in mind for her. Dulled by pain and regret, she remained compliant, barely raising a flicker of interest even when several pirates returned to join the main force, their movements sluggish as if they'd been drugged. She found out later that in fact they had been, the drug so effective they were able to tell Hook little of what had happened, or who had done the dastardly deed. Hook had raged, the Princess hearing the name of her new friend bandied about among the tirade and she suspected that Wendy had been the target of the pirates, and somehow lost in the fray. In this, she rejoiced to know her friend was free, but further comments made her realize that her own predicament was dire indeed. In his rage, Hook stalked over to where the Indian Princess lay bound and helpless, surrounded by armed guards. Pushing his men aside, the pirate Captain used his metal hook to yank the Princess to her feet, her toes barely touching the ground as she dangled in front of him.

“What trickery have your people been up to Tiger Lily?” Hook snarled, his teeth very white behind his dark mustache. “Who drugged my men.....eh?”

“How should I know......or care,” Lily spat back, glaring daggers at her captor. Hook shook her until her teeth rattled.

“If you value your skin, you'll tell me!”

“I know nothing of your men or what potion they drank.......if it had been me, they would have been poisoned, not drugged!”

Hook started at that, his eyes opening wide as her words sank in.

“Very true, very true. So who else would want to steal my prize? Not Peter Pan......he'd have taken delight in fighting each and every one just to show off, before stealing off with his Wendy......so if not you, and not the Pan.......” Hook slowly lowered Tiger Lily to the ground, his gaze staring off into the distance, apparently forgetting her presence as his mind turned over the evidence. “Smee!”

As the Princess watched, Hook spoke rapidly to his first mate, the Captain's eyes gleaming red as he tapped his chin thoughtfully while he waited for his first mate to return with the information he'd asked for. Mister Smee ran up, puffing, and saluted.

“Two are missin' an' unaccount'd for Cap'n Sir.”

“And who might the truants be?” Hook asked, sliding his eyes around to fix on his portly lieutenant.

“Trimble is one.....'e went missin' afore the battle for the 'Ollow. An'.......er.....um...” Smee looked away then back then down at his feet. Hook lifted his lip in a sneer.

“The other one Smee?”

“That'd be Black Jack, Cap'n Sir. Bin missin' since afore this afternoon's fracas.”

“Thank you Smee...that will be all for now.” Turning on his heel, Hook paced away, the Indian Princess forgotten as he pondered the new threat to his plans. “So, the young tar thinks he can outwit ol' Hook, does he. We shall see. Smee!”

Tiger Lily found herself once more hoisted onto a brawny back as the pirates once more set off, their destination presumably the coast and then their ship, Tiger Lily fighting to keep her whits about her despite her sore head. She was sure that her Father would send a rescue party and they wouldn't be far behind the pirates, plus if Peter returned to the village, and the clear skies seemed to suggest that he would, he would want to be apart of any fight that involved Hook and his men. Resigned to being helpless for the time being, Tiger Lily slumped head down over the man's shoulder and accepted her fate, until circumstances allowed otherwise.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Peter and his party of warriors were too late to stop Hook boarding his barge, the flotilla of small boats well beyond of the Indian's bows and spears from the bank of the inlet. Impotent to do more than watch, Peter, his Lost Boys and the braves shadowed the boats from the tree line, their bodies flitting between the trees as the pirates strained at their oars. The towering thunderheads that had followed Peter across the island now blotted out the sun, plunging the foreshore into shadow and providing more cover for the rescue party. They could see Tiger Lily settled amidships in the lead boat, surrounded by a dozen or more pirates, several armed with muskets and alert to any movement from the shoreline. Beyond the sandbank that protected the mouth of the river, the imposing rock formation known as Skull Rock rose up out of the sea, the socket like caves in the sheer walls giving the granite monolith it's name. In the distance bobbed the Jolly Roger but Hook didn't head towards his ship once his fleet was clear of the sandbar. Instead he split his crew, half to return to the ship, the rest to go with him towards Skull Rock. Perplexed, Peter used his telescope to keep track of the pirates as they pulled against the current and rounded the boulder strewn skirt of their destination. As he kept watch, the braves sought and found three canoes hidden above the high tide mark, the warriors quickly dragging the wooden craft across the pristine sand and into the clear water. Peter gave orders to the Lost boy's to use the third canoe to keep a watch on the pirates aboard the Jolly Roger and wait for his signal before taking the Indian's and paddling after Hook. The shallow canoes flew over the waves, spray arcing up and dousing the occupants as they bent over their paddles. The pirates had disappeared from view to the far side of Skull Rock and the cave entrance on the seaward site, the mouth of the cave carved out by the pounding waves, getting wider and wider until it was now almost big enough for the Jolly Roger to enter by.

High above the two canoes laboring against the waves, Tinkerbell flew, shadowing Peter and keeping watch on events. She was still wary of approaching him, unsure of his reaction to her return. It was almost a relief to be able to watch and yet remain uninvolved with the drama playing out below. If to an outsider it would have appeared cowardly, she didn't mind, her one thought only to keep Peter in her sights and help him if the need arose. She did wonder why he didn't fly after Hook, rather than take the more pedestrian route and remain with the Indian's, but she supposed he had his reasons. As she fluttered out of sight she glanced uneasily at the clouds gathering overhead. The sun was sinking fast towards the distant horizon and the sea was starting to whip itself into a frenzy, the weather as ever in tune with the Pan's mood. Well aware of their destination, Tink veered off and approached the sheer rock cliffs on the sheltered side, darting into one of the dark caves and flying at top speed down the winding tunnel until she reached the main cavern in time to see Hook disembark from his longboat on to a rocky ledge.

Settling herself near enough to see and hear everything, but out of harms way, Tinkerbell waited to see what was about to take place. She could see Tiger Lily being hoisted ashore and left to stand to the side of the Pirate Captain, his men scattering to find hiding places behind rocks and among the ledges. Obviously they were planning on ambushing anyone who came to rescue the Princess, a plan that had been played out many times over the years. Somehow, this one seemed to be more deadly than the other times, Hook looking inordinately pleased with himself as he manhandled the Indian Princess along to a seaweed encrusted ledge where rusty manacles hung in readiness.

“Sorry the accommodations are not up to your usual standard, Princess....but then, you're a savage! What do you know of standards and fine things!” Amused at his own whit, Hook laughed darkly, his henchmen echoing the laughter from their various hiding places. Hook scowled, “quiet you brutes!” At once silencing his men and making them slink back in to hiding. “Now, m'dear, where were we. Are yes, setting you comfortably to await rescue by Peter Pan.” Setting down his own ornately decorated musket, Hook forced Tiger Lily over the edge of the ledge and into the cold water, passing a chain through her bonds and leaving her to hang with her back to the slimy rocks, the waves buffeting her with each swell.

“Comfy?” Hook inquired, grinning down at his gagged and bound bait. “No? Ah well, you'll just have to wait with the rest of us for the resourceful Peter Pan to fly down and rescue you. And when he does,” Hook lifted his gun, using his hook to cock and prime the powder. “I'll shoot him right between his noble intentions,” he growled, his eyes taking on a red gleam.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

29/01/07

Chapter: Eight – Battling on All Fronts

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It was still dark when Wendy opened her eyes, the fire having died down to embers while she'd been asleep. Jack was a darker lump opposite her, the knife clutched in his hand catching the last flickers of flames licking the blackened wood. Unable to tell what had awoken her, Wendy briefly closed her eyes, sleep stealing up again only to be dispelled by a soft growl sounding almost in her ear. With the hairs on her neck standing upright, Wendy stiffened and held herself rigid, her senses straining for what was out there in the dark. A bright flash of lightning way off in the distance briefly illuminated the clearing and Wendy gasped as light reflected off a circle of eyes peering out of the jungle around her. The growl came again and this time it was very close, Wendy imagining that she could feel the fetid breath of the wolf on her face as she lay frozen in place. Another flash of lightning speared across the sky, showing the circle of wolves for a split second, a huge grey beast approaching where Black Jack lay still sleeping, the creature pulling back its lips to expose a wealth of sharp, white fangs. Feeling her throat close up in sheer terror, Wendy tried to call out, to move, but fear kept her mute, her eyes wide as she watched the stealthy creatures approach. A log suddenly collapsed into the fire sending a shower of sparks into the air. At the same moment the giant grey wolf pounced, gripping Jack with his jaws around the young man's neck, effectively pinning him to the ground. At the same time Wendy felt clawed paws press her down to the ground, a hot breath panting against her cheek, but no teeth against her flesh. Jack was fully awake now and tried to free himself, flailing with his knife hand only to have it bitten by another wolf who held his hand immobile and made Jack drop his knife. With the two humans safely captured, another creature appeared on the scene and padded over to where both Wendy and Jack could see him clearly in the dying light of the fire.

“For why do you travel the wolf's domain, humans?”

Wendy heard the voice try to speak, but the words were mangled by the teeth and tongue trying to speak them.

“I-I can't.....don't understand you.”

“Why are you here?” Growled the voice again. Wendy tried to decipher the words but couldn't make head nor tail of them.

“I-I'm so sorry......I can't understand a-a-a word you j-just said.”

A concerted growl from the pack made Wendy duck her head and bury it in her arms, sure that the wolves were about to eat them both. Realizing that communication was going to be all but impossible, the leader of the pack signaled his brothers to allow the humans up but to keep them closely guarded. Wendy felt the paws lift off her body and waited, expecting to be bitten or worse at any moment. Instead she felt a nose pushing at her to sit up. Doing just that she was then urged to get to her feet. Jack was also released, although the wolf gripping his hand didn't let go, making Jack bend over once he was upright. Two of the wolves bounded forward then turned their backs on the fire, using their back paws to kick dirt over the embers, dousing the fire and all light along with it. Wendy tried to see Jack's face in the dark but it was no good, the wolves around her tugging at her dress and urging her to follow the pack, her former captor similarly treated with wolves chivying his heels with nips and bites to keep him going in the right direction. The wolves obviously had excellent night vision and could see their way clearly, but their prisoners were not so lucky, Wendy stumbling and tripping along the invisible path through the trees, curses coming from Jack as he encountered the same difficulty and received a nip for his clumsiness. Occasional flashes of lightning pierced the woods, showing Wendy the pack jogging through the trees like liquid shadows, their coats a perfect camouflage for the night. The trek seemed endless and terrifying, the trees snagging at their clothes and hair, the wolves all around them constantly bumping the nipping them along, dragging at trouser and skirt when they lagged or fell down. After what seemed like hours, Wendy could start to make out shapes in the darkness, the dawn not far off as grey light filtered down to the forest floor. She could see now that the pack was made up of a great many wolves, more than she'd thought possible. All of them were big, shaggy animals in the peak of health, their coats colored in variations of grey through to black, and brown through to white. Wendy was being shadowed and moved along by mostly smaller members of the pack, their coats a mixture of brown, caramel and snowy white, as if they all belonged to the same family. When she looked back at Jack, he was surrounded by much bigger animals, their coats predominantly black and shades of grey with massive shoulders and gleaming teeth. With the light they were able to make a better pace, the wolves starting to lift up their heads and howl, answering calls from more animals off in the distance. Suddenly the forest started to thin and Wendy could see a broad meadow through the trees, the wolves not on guard duty bounding off through the tall grass, their tails held high as they raced to greet more members of their pack. A chorus of yips and barks ensued as family members greeted those returning, an orgy of tail wagging and bottom sniffing identifying everyone among the pack. Wendy and Jack were herded towards a mound of dirt and made to site down, their guard reducing to only two wolves, both of them with piercing black eyes and powerful bodies. Jack was trying to wrap the bite on his hand with a grubby length of shirt material, all the time cursing under his breath while shooting the wolves angry glances. Wendy watched the reunion of animals with both delight and trepidation. There must have been nearly fifty wolves altogether, the pack milling around, forming and reforming family groups until at last the greetings were over and the two captives once more became the center of attention. Wendy recognized, from the black stripe on his face, the wolf that had made noises that seemed to be speech, the animal finding a small mound to stand on while the others gathered around for all the world like an audience waiting for a parliamentary speaker to start his oration. Once the pack was silent, the wolf did indeed start to speak, a mixture of almost human sounding word intermingled with barks, growls and yips but spaced in the pattern of human speech. Wendy listened in awe, hardly daring to believe what was going on in front of her, having never heard of such behavior in any animal before.

“I almost expect him to call a vote and have them all raise their paws,” Wendy whispered to Jack, watching the scene intently.

“I wouldn't be surprised if they did. These are not ordinary wolves, if you hadn't figured that out already.”

“Not wolves? But.......”

“Oh I grant you, they look like dogs, behave like dogs....as you can see, but they were not always as you see them now.”

“What were they?”

Jack suddenly laughed softly to himself. “Have you any idea what Neverland really is?”

“I don't understand you.”

“What do you think Neverland is here for?”

“Here for? Is it here for something?”

“Not something.....someone.”

Wendy stared back at Jack, confusion on her face. “Someone? Are you meaning Peter?”

Jack stared back, his eyes dark and intense. “How old are you?”

“What has that to do with anything?”

“Answer me girl.....what is your age?”

“If you must know.......I'll be sixteen in just under a month's time.”

“On the cusp...neither a child nor yet a woman. He chose you well.”

“What are you talking about, what has my age to do with anything?”

The two huge wolves guarding them growled and stirred before turning their attention back to their leader still talking behind them. Jack shuffled closer to Wendy and lowered his voice.

“How old do you think I am?”

“This is ridiculous. We're the prisoners of a pack of wolves, likely to be torn apart at any moment and you are rabbiting on about our ages!”

“Alright...how old to you think Peter Pan is?”

“Fine, I'll play your silly game. I suppose......a year or two older than me, maybe the same age as you?”

“Then girly girl, brace yourself for a shock,” Jack grinned knowingly. “I've been on Neverland for the best part of one hundred and sixty years, give or take a decade.”

“W-w-hat?”

“And your precious Peter.....well, no-one really knows how long he's been here. Hook reckons for as long as Neverland has been in existence....maybe longer....”

“Wait.....what are you saying.....that....th-at....Peter is hundreds of years old?”

“Maybe thousands.....nobody knows....”

“But......he.....you.....can't be.....it's impossible.” Wendy stared at Jack appalled, her eyes darting over his face as if hoping to see some evidence of times' stamp on his features.

One of the wolf guards suddenly snapped at Jack, the other animal insinuating himself between them to halt their conversation. The wolf on the mound had finished his speech and was trotting over to where Wendy and Jack now stood some distance apart, their guards beside them.

“We have taken a vote and decided to hand your fate over to one you will understand.”

Wendy stared helplessly at the wolf, unable to understand his guttural way of talking, her mind in a turmoil over what Black Jack had just told her. To her surprise, Jack answered the wolf in the same growling, barking language.

“Why not summon the Pan.....or Hook and hand us over to them?”

“Because we know what you are trying to do, Black Hearted Jack. We know you harbor dark feelings for the Pan and want his reign to end by using this female as your weapon of destruction. We cannot allow you to take matters into your own hands.

The fate of Neverland, of us all could depend on the outcome. Hook is no better than you, a taker of pelts, and the Pan is not the one to make the decision about his own fate.”

Wendy looked on, bewildered, while Jack continued his conversation with the wolf, some of the words and names almost recognizable while the rest was nothing more than the barking of dogs.

“Then let us go our own way.....what I'm doing will benefit us all in the end. You can't want to continue on like this into eternity?” Jack argued.

“That is our right to decide....not you. This discussion is at an end. The female will go with the wives and have something to eat. You will be taken somewhere to wait.” Having said all he wanted to say, the pack leader turned and left, the two guards instantly surrounding Jack and nipping at him to move away from Wendy.

“Where are you going?” Wendy cried out in a panic, “what did he say? What were you talking about?”

“Go with them....they'll look after you. Just remember....they are not entirely what they look like!” Jack called out before being chivvied away by his guards. Wendy found herself once more surrounded by a pack of wolfs with coats of brown, caramel and white, the animals tugging at her dress to make her walk forward, while others danced around like excited puppies or herded youngsters ahead of them to avoid being stepped on by the towering human. Wendy glanced back over her shoulder, but Jack was already lost to sight, only the howl and bark of his escort telling her where he went. A wet tongue lapping at her fingers drew her attention back to her own predicament, the wolves leading her over to what looked like a brush cover, the roof interlaced with green branches that sheltered the interior from the sun, and a dirt floor swept clean and dry. Wendy was pushed and cajoled into the strange hut and urged to sit on the ground. When she was settled, several of the puppies staggered over to her to investigate her dress and feet, their fur silky soft under her fingers as she fondled their floppy ears and stroked their soft puppy coats. Several female wolves looked on indulgently, either sitting our lounging, as their offspring entertained the human girl, their eyes alert to any sign of danger to their babies. Being familiar with handling dogs from her experience with Nana, Wendy soon relaxed and enjoyed the playtime with the puppies, several small bodies squirming on to her lap while others tried out their puppy teeth on her toes and fingers. To her surprise, several more female wolves appeared carrying strange, twig baskets containing a variety of fruits and nuts, dropping them at Wendy's side and nudging them towards her.

“Are these for me?” Wendy asked, smiling nervously at the she-dogs as they nudged the baskets again and looked expectantly at the girl. “Thank you very much. I am feeling hungry after that long trek last night.” The fruit offered was all ripe and ready to eat and Wendy bit into the juicy flesh with obvious relish, her audience watching her every move with an intensity that was unsettling. Too hungry and thirsty to be afraid, Wendy tucked into her breakfast with a healthy appetite, the puppies helping her out and licking her fingers free of their sweet, sticky juice at the end. Well fed and feeling quite happy amongst the female wolves, Wendy felt the fingers of sleep steal over her, the strenuous, stressful night catching up with her at last.

“Thank you very much for that wonderful meal, I don't know what I can do to repay you,” yawning widely, Wendy lay down on the dirt floor, the puppies gamboling around her and jumping on on her body as she relaxed and laughed, watching them. Within minutes she was unable to keep her eyes open and slipped into a doze, the female wolves shooing the puppies away to let her sleep in the shade, one brown and white wolf staying to keep watch.

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Tiger Lily's night had been as fraught with terror and discomfort as Wendy's. Chained to a rock and suspended in cold sea water was enough to make anyone on edge, but to have to witness a battle between your Enemy and your Rescuer was enough to make the stoutest heart quail.

It was fully dark before Peter made his move, together with the warriors that had followed him to rescue the Princess. Hook and his men were hidden within the sea cave, awaiting Peter's arrival to snap shut their trap. While Tiger Lily shivered in the sea water, Hook crouched expectantly only a few feet away. Knowing that Hook was baiting a trap made Peter cautious as he crept down the wall of the cave, the braves spread out and making their way stealthily to where the pirates waited in hiding. One by one the Indian's found, fought and silenced their quarry, reducing Hook's force with each muffled, unnoticed victory. The noise from the rising tide made distinguishing sounds difficult and Hook was unaware that anything was wrong until one pirate, in fear for his life, screamed and launched himself off his ledge, diving into the sea to escape his fate at the hands of the Indian's. After that, the battle was full on. Between flashes of lightning outside, the inside was lit up with bursts of musket fire, gouts of flames as shot after shot blasted at the fleeing shadows of their nearly invisible foes. Hook rose up from his hiding place and bellowed for someone to tell him what was going on, his own musket cocked and ready to fire. While the braves kept the pirates occupied, Peter dropped almost soundlessly onto the broad ledge where Hook stood ready. Some sixth sense, or maybe just years of playing the same game over and over, alerted Hook, the Captain swinging round and firing at the same time, winging Peter so that blood gushed from a flesh wound in one sun bronzed shoulder. Hook laughed triumphantly, throwing the musket away and pulling out a pistol from the sash about his waist.

“Thought you could catch ol' Hook unawares whelp! We've played this game too many times for me to be caught out so easily!”

A flash of a thrown blade buried itself in the broad sleeve of Hook's arm, throwing off his aim as the pistol roared, the shot barely missing Peter's head as he ducked. Hook threw the spent pistol at Peter and yanked the knife out of the material, the blade only grazing his good arm.

“Losing your aim, dear boy....is that the best you can do?”

“Have at thee Hook!” Peter yelled, drawing his sword from it's scabbard and bringing it down in an arc designed to lop off Hook's head, or at least eviscerate him. Dancing out of reach, Hook drew his own rapier and stood poised on the balls of his feet, the blade flashing wickedly in another burst of lightning. Blade met blade and sparks flew as each opponent tested the others reach and strength. Both were experienced swordsmen, both had the ability to wield the weapons to the others detriment, but as with every battle engaged between Hook and Pan, it came down to who had the strongest motive to win. A broad grin lit up Peter's countenance as he circled his enemies form, the Captain keeping the younger man's eyes locked with his as they tried to find some weakness in defenses that had been tested time and again and rarely found wanting. Lightning flashed almost continuously, the roar of thunder near deafening as the two combatants circled and feinted, blade against blade while feet searched for purchase on the slippery rocks made more so by the lashing waves whipped up by the wind. Each blow was met by a counter, each lung blocked and parried. For Tiger Lily, reluctant witness to the fight, it appeared like some macabre dance, Hook and Pan moving forward and back in some strange pattern, both wearing the same expression of fierce concentration. It ended in a moment, Hook swinging at Peter's head, the pirate losing his footing on a piece of seaweed, allowing Peter to land a stunning blow with the hilt of his sword to Hook's jaw, knocking his opponent out for the count. Not bothering to deliver the coup-de-grace Peter hurried to where Tiger Lily hung in chains, releasing her just seconds before two pirates finally reached the ledge and tried to skewer them both. Lily pushed away from the rocks and trod water, out of reach of the pirates but unable to help Peter who now had to fend of two attackers. Swimming to the ledge, the Princess hauled herself out despite numb legs and chattering teeth. Finding Hook's prostrate form, she searched for his sword. Making her shaking limbs stiffen, Tiger Lily lifted the ornate rapier and shuffled forward to help Peter against the pirates. Her help ended up not being needed, Peter able to rout one of the ruffians while the other took the cowards way out and dived into the sea. Panting heavily, blood streaming from his injured shoulder, Peter swung around to see Tiger Lily tottering towards him, her blade held shakily in two hands.

“Are you alright?” Peter asked, walking to meet her and taking Hook's sword from her grasp.

“Cold....tired.......freezing,” Lily's teeth chattered noisily and she wrapped her arms about herself. Sheathing his own sword but keeping a grip on Hook's, Peter warily approached the mound that was the pirate Captain. Using his toe, Peter nudged his enemy, ensuring the man was truly unconscious before roughly stripping him of his ornate frock coat.

“Here...put this on, it'll help warm you.”

“Thank you.....” Lily took the coat and hastily shrugged it on, her face screwing up in an expression of disgust but grateful for it's instant warmth.

Putting his fingers to his lips, Peter let go a shrill whistle, the sound echoing off the enormous cavern again and again. From the shadows, the Indian braves presented themselves, each expressing to the Princess their joy at her rescue.

“Everyone accounted for?” Peter did a quick head count, before directing them to use Hook's long boat, handing Tiger Lily in himself while the braves sorted out the oars. “Pull away me hearties, we've a way to go to get home.”

Outside the cave the sky was starting to clear, the storm passing over and leaving behind crystal clear stars over an inky sea. The Princess still shivered, her former bravado buried under the weight of weariness, so Peter put his arm about her and let her rest her dark head on his uninjured shoulder. The distant peeping of sea birds flying overhead guided the boat across the stretch of water to the shore, the lights of the Jolly Roger just visible along the coast. After collecting the canoes and beaching the long boat they all stood on the sand and stared out towards the hulking bulk that was Skull Rock.

“Why didn't you kill him?” Tiger Lily asked, a spark of anger coloring her voice in the dark.

“I can't kill a defenseless man, would you have me stab him when he's unconscious?”

“Hook is never defenseless Peter......you could have ended all this.”

“Ended what? If I know anything about pirates, Black Jack is just waiting for me to kill Hook for him so he can step into the Captain's shoes. Which would you prefer?”

“I suppose so. This was not like other raids Peter....I almost feel that my capture and the raid on the village were only a mean to an end....not the end itself.”

In the darkness Peter jerked in surprise, her words ringing alarm bells in his head. “What do you mean?”

“I don't think.....oh I don't know, I'm so tired I can hardly think at all.....”

“We all are. We're safe enough for the time being, we'll make camp here then return to the village in the morning....agreed?”

No-one disagreed and a fire was quickly built on the sloping beach, the signal for the Lost Boys in the bay to return to shore. One of the braves caught a brace of fish while the others set up the campsite, the meal consumed voraciously before they all settled on the warm sand to sleep away the rest of the night. Peter slept close to where Tiger Lily lay huddled in Hook's coat, his mind turning over what the Princess had said. If Lily was right, and her capture was merely a ruse to draw Peter into another trap, and not a particularly clever one, then what was the real purpose of the attack on the village and everything that followed. He thought of Wendy waiting for him back at the Indian village and was tempted to fly back that night, but even as he thought it a yawn nearly cracked his jaw, the wound in his shoulder reminding him that he needed to see to that come morning. Turning onto his uninjured side, Peter listened to the sounds of the Indian's and Lost Boys around him, their soft snores and the distant roar of the waves lulling him to sleep.

With the dawn they were up and on the move, the sun still below the horizon as they trekked through the jungle. A quick tally of injuries reinforced the need for a side trip, Peter leading the way to a secret place hidden deep in the vegetation.

“Where are we going Peter? I'm sure the village is not this way?”

“You are right Lily.....its not....but a healing pool is.”

“A healing pool?” Tiger Lily's face lit up, all the lines of tiredness falling away. “Oh Peter that's marvelous.”

“Thought we could all do with a soak before we return to the village. It won't take long, plus I need some new leaves.” Peter stared down at his costume, several patches of skin showing through the coverings. He was still decent, but only just. Lily giggled and told him to hurry, the braves and Lost Boys grinning at the thought of the pleasure to come. They didn't have to wait long, the jungle soon parting to reveal a cloud of steam rising from a system of hot pools, the vegetation particularly lush around each pool, screening it from the one next to it. With whoops and yells, the braves scampered over to one of the bigger pools, throwing weapons and clothes in all directions as they raced to be the first in. Crate, Tophat and Rat bounded noisily over to one of the smaller pools, clothes flying, whooping in delight. Peter laughed out loud while he led the Princess to a smaller pool, steam spiraling lazily into the air before threading through the overhanging branches above. They could hear the laughter coming from the other pools and smiled to each other.

“Off you go Peter...I can't wait to get in!”

“Maybe I should stay....for your protection of course,” Peter waggled his eyebrows outrageously and Tiger Lily laughed.

“I prefer to bathe alone, thank you.....so run along....” she waved her hand, her eyes twinkling. Tiger Lily was well aware of Wendy's presence unspoken between them. “Make sure the leaves cover everything....this time!” Lily watched a tide of crimson rise up Peter face, turning his ears pink.

“You said you wouldn't mention that again,” Peter grumped, feeling the blush staining his cheeks while a broad grin stretched his lips. “I told you at the time, it was just a mistake.”

“Of course Peter.....as if I don't see enough bare bum-cheeks in the village, with all the idiots there trying to catch my eye.” Tiger Lily snorted, her fingers busily unbraiding her long plaits. “Just see you don't let it happen again.”

Peter lifted his hand in a wave before turning away to find his own steaming pool, his mouth still curved in a smile as he recalled the incident the Princess alluded to. He'd been going through a difficult time, his body reacting every which way to the slightest stimuli with embarrassing consequences. One such incident had involved a swim, new leaves and the Princess. Pushing through the dense plants fringing his pool, Peter stepped straight into the steaming water, sighing with contentment as the water soaked into his sore muscles, gradually easing the pain in his shoulder as he sank into the deepest part of the pool, the bubbles closing over his head like a warm blanket. Surfacing, he found the water full of his leaves, the substance of his clothes shriveling in the hot water before sinking from sight. Floating, he stared up at the steam weaving lazy patterns in the spears of sunlight slanting through the canopy. In the distance he could hear the Indian warriors splashing and horsing about, nearer to hand he could here Crate and the other two Lost Boy's shouting and mock-fighting. More faintly he caught the notes of an Indian song floating up from the Princess's pool. Above his own pool a small flock of jewel colored birds sang and twittered, their bright bodies darting from branch to branch, calling to each other in their flute like songs. One bright spot separated itself from the flock and floated down towards him, the bright light resolving into the form of a familiar looking fairy.

“Tink....you came back!”

Pleased that Peter seemed happy to see her, Tinkerbell preened and fluttered across the surface of the pool, alighting here and there and making circular ripples appear about Peter's floating body. Finally she floated down and landed on his chest, walking delicately across his skin until she stood just below his chin.

“I thought you'd come back eventually.....I do forgive you for your bad behavior as I'm sure you didn't mean to be.”

Happy to be forgiven for a transgression she'd already forgotten, Tinkerbell clapped her hands and tinkled merrily up at Peter, her wings bright with light and fairy dust. This was the Peter she knew and loved, this golden boy floating in a sea of steam, his long limbs lazily paddling in the water, his long lashed eyes closed as the water worked it's magic. Content, she sat cross-legged on his chest and sang, her voice blending with those of the birds in a sweet harmony while Peter dozed beneath her, his chest lifting her up and down as he breathed. This was her Peter Pan, with no great lumping girl to interfere or intrude.

At length, Tinkerbell had to fly up as Peter finished his bath by sluicing himself all over, paying particular attention to the wound on his shoulder, the skin already healed over, all trace of blood washed away. By the time Peter hauled himself out of the pond only a scar remained to show where the bullet had scoured a furrow in the brown skin. Flexing his shoulder, Peter absently rubbed the injury, his body once more whole and healthy, all scratches and bruises healed. Spotting a Neverbush, he sauntered over, whistling as he pushed his way in to the thicket, the leaves rustling around him in a frenzy while Peter let his head fall back and turned slowly. Tink hovered overhead, getting an eyeful of the Indian's pulling on their clothing, the Lost Boy's still wrestling each other while trying to get dressed and the Princess wringing out her long hair before checking that her fringed tunic was almost dry. When Peter emerged from the Neverbushes, he was once more clothed from waist to knees in a bright covering of leaves. Stopping briefly to gather up his weapons, he wandered over to stand just beyond the hedge of jungle that shielded Tiger Lily's pool.

“Ready yet?” Peter called out, “need a hand?”

From further round the pool Tiger Lily appeared, her dark hair flowing down her back, her dress molded to her form, the tunic having shrunk a little in the warm water when she washed it. “I feel as clean and fresh as a newborn babe. These pools are just wonderful.”

“Certainly magical.....look,” he flexed his previously bloody shoulder, Tiger Lily running a finger down the scar that puckered the skin.

“Doesn't it even hurt a little bit?”

“Nope....not even a twinge.”

“I don't feel tired either. We should reach the village by nightfall.”

They joined the party of young warriors gathering up their bows and knives, each of them looking refreshed and ready to do battle again. Crate swaggered up, followed closely by Tophat and Rat, both boys still shoving each other and grinning.

“I'll fly the Princess back to her father. The Chief will be anxious for news of the Princess. It will also give the village time to organize a feast for you, the returning heroes.” Peter shared a grin with Tiger Lily when the braves and Lost Boys started to whoop and stamp their feet at the thought of being hailed heroes by their friends and family. Tinkerbell hovered overhead and when Peter waved her down, sprinkled fairy dust over the Indian girl, coating the dark hair with sparkles. After saying their farewells, the pair then flew straight up, leaving behind the steaming pools waving warriors and gleeful Lost Boys, Tinkerbell not far behind them as they set a clear course back to the village. Peter, in deference to Tiger Lily, didn't fly at top speed, despite a nagging worry that all was not well back at the Indian village, his brow creasing in a frown as he negotiated some particularly tall trees, his companions keeping up but just barely.

“Peter slow down....please....I'm not so adept at this flying as you!” Tiger Lily's plaintive cry slowed his pace a little, Peter turning to watch her fly towards him, Tinkerbell's bright light darting back and forth around her.

“Sorry Lily. I just feel......I don't know....I just.....Wendy!” He finished on a sigh, “I don't know what's the matter with me, but I feel that something you said might just have a ring of truth to it. What if everything has just been a ruse to lure me away from Wendy, leaving her prey to....I don't know what!”

“I understand......truly I do. Go on, Peter, fly your fastest back to the village and find out. She may be there waiting for you.......” Tiger Lily tried to look hopeful, but even she was starting to feel a lump of dread growing inside her.

“Tinkerbell....make sure Lily gets home safe,” Peter listened to a brief protest from his fairy friend, but a stern look silenced the sound of tiny bells and the fairy agreed to his request. With a quick wave, Peter turned away and streaked off, leaving the Princess and the fairy far behind in the blink of an eye.

“I hope he finds her safe and well with my father,” Tiger Lily muttered, floating forward once more, Tinkerbell darting around her head like a demented firefly, trying to urge the girl faster through the air. “It's no good Tinkerbell, I can't go any faster.”

7/02/07

Chapter: Nine – In Luke-warm Pursuit

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The wolf pack was leading them higher and higher into the hills, the slopes becoming steeper until the humans were almost on their hands and knees. It was past midday and the heat of the sun was bouncing off the grassland in waves, the few trees capable of providing some shade becoming farther apart as they climbed. Wendy mopped her face with her hand, a sympathetic whine coming from the wolf keeping pace with her on once side.

“I'm sure you must be suffering more than me with your thick coat,” Wendy remarked, the wolf replying by lolling out a long pink tongue and panting. All around them the wolf pack was strung out over the slopes. Only the adults had accompanied Wendy and Jack, the puppies left with their mothers in the broad meadow, the trip too long and arduous for the young to attempt. Jack was using the sleeve of his shirt to mop his forehead, sweat making the material cling to his back and chest, his long black hair hanging free around his face.

“This is a bloody torture,” Jack swore, his boots slipping again as he tried to find purchase on the sloping hillside, Wendy having a better grip with bare feet.

“Maybe you should take your boots off,” Wendy suggested, receiving a dark look for her trouble.

“Maybe you should just shut up, miss hoity-toity!”

His next utterance was a yelp when one of the wolves lunged forward and bit him, a painful nip on his backside. “What the bloody hell was that for?!”

“I don't think they liked the way you spoke to me,” Wendy suggested, fighting to keep the smile off her face as Jack limped forward, rubbing at the sore spot with one hand. They continued in silence for a little while, always heading upwards, the trees all but vanished from the hillside now, leaving only tussock and scrub and no shade from the sun. One of the black wolves came forward, Jack's water pouch on it's back, offering it to Wendy. Undoing the buckle, Wendy eased it off the wolf's back and gratefully unplugged the cork, drinking deeply of the water before passing it to Jack, who took it grudgingly, but drank all the same. The pack were all laying down in the grass around them, tongues lolling as they panted, Jack and Wendy also sitting, looking back down the slope at the distance they'd come and the view laid out before them.

“What a view,” Wendy breathed, “I've never seen anything like this before.”

“Bloody place is full of wonderful this and magnificent that.....sometimes you just wish it was damn ordinary.”

“London was ordinary.....and smoky, grimy, noisy, smelly.......very ordinary.”

“Are you prepared to swap it for all this?” Jack swept his arm in an arc to indicate Neverland, “because this is what you are getting in exchange. A half wild, barbaric wilderness with little or no civilization, nothing ordinary or safe or predictable, in fact anything but.”

“Maybe I'm tired of the safe and predictable,” Wendy retorted, staring defiantly at the view.

“And maybe you're happy to kiss goodbye to soft beds and running water, fashionable clothes and books!”

Jack's biting words made Wendy start. “Books?” Not realizing she'd spoken aloud, she jumped when Jack let out a hard bark of laughter.

“Yes missy.....books. There ain't no libraries on this lump of dirt, no museums or art galleries, restaurants or hotels....”

“What would you know of such things if you've been here for hundreds of years?” Wendy cut off Jack, her gaze scathing.

“Even the Greeks had libraries.....and I'm not some ignorant peasant!”

“Well neither am I! I'm not some soft, wilting flower to give up at the first hurdle. And anyway.....Peter traveled to my world, why can't I travel as well?”

“True.....but will you be satisfied with fleeting visits? Peter will never want to stay longer than a few hours...his heart, his soul will always be here. No woman can break that hold on him....no even you, love.”

“This is ridiculous.....I haven't even decided if I'm going to stay here in Neverland....so all this is just stupid hot air.”

“Not stay? Do you seriously think this place will ever let you go now?” Jack snorted, his face creasing with a wide grin. “Don't you think we've tried.....more times than I can remember...more times than there stars in the 'eavens.”

“Tried what?”

“To leave this place...to sail away and never come back....to die and stay dead forever.”

“You're talking nonsense, of course if you die it's forever.” Wendy shifted uncomfortably.

“No here....not in Neverland. How do you think 'ol Hook manages to keep his crew? If every pirate killed stayed dead, the ship would be empty in weeks. It ain't called Never Neverland for nothing. Nobody ever dies....not forever...they all come back....one way, or another. Not always in their original form, mind you. That took a bit of figuring out at first, but it soon came clear that certain animals and things were turning up, out of the blue you might say.”

“I don't understand what your saying.”

“Look. You know I said that these wolves are not what you think they are.”

“Maybe......” Wendy bit her lip, dreading what was to be said next.

“Well.....let's just say they weren't always members of the pack. It's a kind of renewable resource, if you like. When a creature or person dies within Neverland's boundary, they are reborn into one thing or another. Sometimes into the same form as before, if the need is there....sometimes into a different form. It explains why there are never more than sufficient crew for the Jolly Roger despite the number of battles and lives lost over the years.”

“What you say is...crazy.”

Jack shrugged. “There's an old saying....don't ask me where it comes from, cos I don't know. It goes something like....While Life is Renewed then Neverland Flourishes – If ever a Life Ends Forever then Neverland Perishes.”

“But you said yourself....everyone...everything is renewed in Neverland.” Wendy looked at Jack, confusion clear on her face.

“Quite right.....but then everyone, everything has been here for a very long time, so long they are part of the whole shebang. Part of the fabric of the place, if you like.”

“So?”

“You are still connected to the world beyond Neverland.....you are still uncorrupted, unsullied, untouched by this place....by Peter. You are the only creature on this whole island that can still die and stay dead.....forever.”

Wendy stared open mouthed at Jack, her eyes wide as she tried to understand his meaning. Jack lay back in the long grass, his hands clasped behind his head, his mischief done.

“But if that happens....then what you said....about Neverland perishing...it could come true?”

“It could girly girl. We could all be released from this hellish prison and set free, free at last,” Jack answered her triumphantly, his black eyes gleaming as he smiled smugly at Wendy.

“I could be the means to destroy all this?” Wendy asked faintly, feeling nauseous. Jack nodded his head, pulling up a grass stalk and starting to chew on it. The wolves around them suddenly rose up and circled them, one reaching down to nip at Jack's boots, the young man rapidly finding his feet to avoid being bitten again. Wendy rose more slowly to her feet, her mind numb from everything that Jack had told her. “I don't believe you,” she said, stiffening her back and lifting her head imperiously, “I don't believe you at all. I think you've made all that up to frighten me and to justify your nefarious intentions.”

Jack shrugged and turned away, the sly smile curving his lips hidden from Wendy as he started up the slope once more. That should give the stupid girl something to chew on, and hopefully send her running back home before any more damage could be done. Satisfied that he'd sown the seeds to influence the decision Wendy would soon have to make, Jack tramped up the hill in a much better mood than he'd been in before. Behind him, Wendy focused her gaze on the slope ahead and tried to shut out the conflicting voices in her head, all of them screaming at her to leave Neverland as soon as it was possible.

Not long after their short stop, the wolves suddenly ceased their climb, Wendy and Jack not noticing until they were several steps ahead. A short bark from the leader of the pack alerted them that the wolves were no longer beside them. Jack turned around and took a step back down the slope only to be met with a trio of snarling black wolves, their teeth very white and sharp in the afternoon sun. Wendy didn't move from where she was, her eyes wide with trepidation.

“What's happening Jack......why have they stopped?”

The pack leader stepped forward and addressed himself to Wendy, despite her inability to understand him.

“You, humans, must keep climbing and reach the Cave of Dreams, there you will find one who will know what to do about you both. Keep going as you have, you will reach it before dark.”

Jack chewed over what the wolf leader had said, Wendy looking over at him for a translation, her gaze darting back and forth between the leader and Jack.

“What did he say?”

“That we have to go on alone and to keep climbing until we reach some cave up there,” he pointed up towards the summit.

“Is that all?” Wendy asked, glancing up the slope and squinting to see how far they still had to climb. Jack nodded and turned to go, but the wolf leader hadn't finished yet.

“Know this, Black Jack, we will remain here until we have a signal that you have reached your destination. Do not think to return down this mountain until you have been to the Cave of Dreams. We will know and you fate will be sealed.”

This time all the wolves bared their impressive fangs, presenting Jack with visions of being torn to pieces in a painful and hideous death. Swallowing, he nodded to the pack leader and turned once more to continue the climb. Wendy hesitated before following, the brown and white wolf padding forward and pushing it's head under her hand for a stroke before turning away to let the girl follow the young pirate up the hillside. Wendy felt a sudden loss and wanted to call the animal back, her eyes pricking as she raised her hand to bid them all farewell before turning her back on them. As she started to climb after Jack, the wolves all lifted their muzzles and let out a series of howls, baying at the sky in farewell for several minutes before sinking down into the long grass to start their vigil. Far below and off towards the east the sky was turning an ominous color, the late afternoon sun almost cowering from the growing sheet of black cloud starting to thicken and spread over the sky.

It would seem that the Pan was finally aware that his Wendy was missing.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Peter had arrived back at the Indian Village to find it a bustle of activity. The women were engaged in the usual domestic toil of daily life while their menfolk worked to rebuild the destroyed tepees. Still others worked to rebuild the stockade, the Chief directing the warriors as they used ropes to position a new pole to fill one splintered by cannon fire.

Peter touched down at a run, approaching the chief almost out of breath from his flight from the coast. Talagumpa grabbed Peter anxiously, the mans huge hands clamping like manacles around the younger man's upper arms.

“You found her...my daughter?”

“Yes Chief....she follows with Tinkerbell.....did you find Wendy?”

“My Lily is unhurt, untouched?”

“Yes...yes she's fine. What about Wendy? Has anyone seen her? Where are my Lost Boys?”

“They searched the village then took off....in that direction, or so it was reported to me.” Talagumpa let go of Peter after giving him a searching glance. “What happened to the men I sent with you?”

“They follow along with Crate and the others.”

“Good. We'll prepare a feast for the returning heroes....you will be our guest of honor!”

“I can't...I have to go....” Peter found himself lifted off the ground, once more gripped by the Chief's meaty hands.

“Not a request....an order. This has been a fight to sing about for years to come...and my Lily will want to thank you properly, as will the village for her safe return.”

“You don't understand.....Wendy....” Peter tried to struggle, but despite the Chief's age, he was very fit, Peter unable to loosen the grip on his arms even a smidgen

“Tonight we feast....tomorrow you go find your Wendy. Do I have to make a spell?”

Well aware that the Chief could tether him in one place with the utterance of just one word, Peter ceased his attempts to free himself and slowly nodded his head, his mouth set mutinously. Chief Talagumpa grunted his acknowledgment of Peter's defeat, releasing the younger man slowly and indicating for a party of warriors to come forward and escort Peter to the Chief's tepee. Fuming, Peter allowed the braves to take him to the large tent, its sides richly decorated with painted images and ceremonial feathers of many colors. With an angry glance over his shoulder, Peter flung back the doorway flap and went inside, the braves standing guard either side of the entrance, their brawny arms folded over their broad, copper colored chests.

As unusual as it seemed, in this instance the Chief had the whip hand over Peter. It was both custom and unalterable that whenever Peter was involved in the rescue of any of the tribe, it was the perfect excuse to host a banquet in his honor. Usually this was greeted with enthusiasm by everyone, including Peter and the pattern was firmly set. On this occasion Peter was wishing himself anywhere but inside the Chief's tepee, his feet tramping back and forth over the dirt floor until he was sure a furrow was forming. The only thing keeping him from going mad from worry and frustration was the report from Crate that apart from boarding the Jolly Roger, the pirates that had left Hook at Skull Rock had not had a prisoner with them, and there was no sign of one aboard the ship. Which meant that Wendy was still on Neverland and not a captive of the pirates, a small comfort but one that gave him some relief. Another point to consider were the second party of Lost Boys were also not in the Indian village, which meant they were following a lead, and probably going to find Wendy and bring her back at any moment. It would be madness to go off without some idea of where she was or what direction she went, Peter kicking at an inoffensive basket as he pondered the alternatives. He could leave the village, but he'd have to avoid every Indian brave within the compound as well as the Chief, who could quite capably invoke a binding spell and confine Peter forcefully. That the Chief had never resorted to such an extreme measure spoke of the long years of association, but even he had limits, and Peter wasn't prepared to test those boundaries without just cause. The more he reasoned, the more Peter managed to convince himself that Wendy was in no danger – this was Neverland, his kingdom, his world. She would be safe until Peter was free to set out in search for her, happy in the knowledge that his Lost Boys – Stretch, Harry, Grub and Squid, would take good care of Wendy and lead her back to the village, maybe even in time to take part in the feast. Content with his convenient logic, Peter ceased to pace like a Tiger and sank down on his haunches, accepting the beaker of Indian beer offered to him by one of the Chief's wives, the good woman only now noticed as she came forward from cowering back in the shadows.

Tiger Lily duly arrived in the village just before midday, Tinkerbell leaving the Indian girl to be welcomed and heartily embraced by her father, while Tink went in search of Peter. She fervently hoped the stupid human girl had been swallowed by the crocodile, but that was too much to hope for so she contented herself with finding Peter Pan who was on the verge of being tipsy from all the Indian beer he'd been supplied with. Following the sound of Peter singing lustily at the top of his lungs, Tink flew into the Chief's tent and alighted on a decorative feathered war bonnet hung against one wall. On seeing his fairy friend enter the tent, Peter stopped singing and jumped to his feet, the beaker of beer going flying as Peter flung his arms wide.

“Tink.....you're back!”

Smiling smugly, Tink fluttered through the air and hovered inches from Peter's face. “Where else would I be?”

“Tink......I missed you. Why'cha go away?”

“You banished me....you silly ass,” Tink answered crossly, peering at Peter while he tried to focus on her with eyes that had a tendency to go cross-eyed in the attempt.

“Did I? Why'd I do that?” Peter slurred, batting away a brimming beaker of beer being handed to him by one of the wives.

“Because of that great lumping girl you brought here, that's why?” Tink shouted, sticking her tongue out as an added insult to the missing Wendy.

“Girl.......what girl?” Peter threw his arms wide, rocking back on his heels and teetering for a second before righting himself.

“Only a great big codfish with straw for hair and huge googly wishy washy eyes that batted like dirty great butterflies every time you looked at her,” Tink roared, her speech sounding like the discordant clashing of tiny bells to the Indian woman watching and listening to the exchange. Peter just grinned at the enraged fairy and blew her a kiss.

“Oh you mean Wendy....she's not a codfish......she's bootiful.”

Tink suddenly realized that bringing Wendy into the conversation had been a grave misjudgment. Peter now stared off into space, his eyes unfocused as thoughts of Wendy crowded his beer muddled thoughts. As if the mere thought of his missing love was enough to sober him, Peter suddenly shook his head violently, his hands rising to hold on to each side as if he expected something to come flying out of his ears. Staggering, he groaned under his breath and bent over at the waist. Watching all this, Tink started to feel concerned for Peter, her wings beating fast as she flittered about the tepee, cursing the Indian woman for poisoning the Pan with their dreadful brew. All they saw was Peter clutching his head while the fairy buzzed around the tent and tinkled in her funny fairy voice.

“Wendy.....I almost forgot about Wendy....how could I?” Peter chastised himself as he fought the effects of the beer which clouded his thoughts and made his head feel three times larger than normal. “Tink....where's Wendy?”

“I don't know.......you've lost her?” Tink asked hopefully, only just missing the hand that shot out to catch her by darting upwards and out of reach.

“Dammit Tink......I have to go.” Ignoring the wives who tired to prevent his going, Peter shoved through them to the entrance flap, flinging it wide before stepping out into the afternoon sun. The Chief was coming towards the tepee, Tiger Lily at his side and a crowd of Indian's on either side. Seeing Peter, Talagumpa hurried forward and enveloped Peter in a chest crushing hug, the younger man all but lost and incapable of freeing himself until the Chief chose to free him from the suffocating embrace.

“Father....father, let Peter go...he's turning blue!”

Released from the Chief's arms, Peter staggered back, his head reeling from the effects of the beer and the lack of oxygen. Tiger Lily stepped forward and put her arm about Peter's shoulders.

“Did you find Wendy?” She asked, trying to ignore her father who looked like he wanted to hug Peter again. “Was she here when you got back?”

“No....and I don't know where she is. The Lost Boys are gone too.....” Peter tried to clear his mind from the fog of alcohol, his ears ringing from the cheers of the people around him, squinting up at the sun to try and gauge the time of day. “Lily I need.....I need....” Peter felt hands clutching at him, several braves lifting him up to sit on a pair of wide shoulders, other hands keeping him from falling as the men carried Peter off and paraded him like a conquering hero all around the village. Children and dogs screamed and barked, jumping up and down as the triumphant procession wound away from the Chief's tent and towards a large fire built up in the middle of the village. Peter twisted around and saw Tiger Lily speaking to her father, the Chief bending down the better to hear her, his face turned to follow his people as they headed for the feast to come, with Peter in their midst. A second later Peter managed to twist around again, catching the Chief shaking his head at whatever Tiger Lily was saying, her pleas falling unheeded. The crowd reached the bonfire and the braves holding Peter up on their shoulders, lowered him to the ground where he stood hemmed in by happy faces and hands eager to touch some part of him, several leaves torn off as souvenirs making him fear that he'd soon be naked if they didn't stop soon. A wind was starting to pick up, blowing the flames of the fire every which way, the carcass hung on a spit over a bed of coals getting bits of leaves and dust blown all over it. Amid cries of alarm, the Indian women hurried about throwing thin clothes over the bowls of food standing ready, the better to protect them from the wind sending eddies of dust about the village. Slowly, the happy crowd became subdued, the Chief approaching the group surrounding Peter and waving them away. Tiger Lily followed behind, her expression solemn.

“I'm sorry Peter....I did try to make him see reason,” Lily shrugged, taking a step back when her father frowned down at her.

Talagumpa raised his hands and everyone fell silent. “We are here to celebrate the safe return of our Princess, my daughter, back into the fold of the tribe. Her rescuer stands before you and we feast in his honor.” He waited while the crowd clapped their approval, whistles and yelps filling the air until the Chief raised his hands again. “The Pan will be leaving us tomorrow on a great quest.” Ignoring the questioning look sent his way by Peter and Tiger Lily the Chief continued. “He will be going to bring back the one he calls his Wendy – the one we have known would come to us, come to Neverland.” The Indians roared again, Peter unable to make himself heard above the shouts and yelps. The Chief ignored the signals sent his way by Peter and spoke again. “Tonight we will send this brave warrior on his way with a full belly and strong medicine – he will need both is he is to be our savior once more.”

Peter managed to catch Princess Tiger Lily's eye but the girl was only able to shrug and hold her hands up, having no more understanding of what her father was speaking about than Peter. Obviously there was something going on that neither were aware of, but somehow the rest of the tribe knew about. Finding himself being shepherded towards another tent, Peter dug in his heels and tried to twist out of the grasp of the braves ranged either side of him. A hand suddenly came down on his shoulder and the Chief uttered one word, “mesta.”

At once Peter felt all the fight go out of him, the braves easily conveying him unresisting to the tent and inside. There he was stripped, washed, painted and dressed before being ushered outside as docile as a lamb. Not only was his body compliant but his mind as well, washed clean by the simple, yet powerful magic wielded by the Chief. As guest of honor, Peter was placed in an ornate chair, a feathered ceremonial bonnet placed on his head, the trailing ends reaching the ground on either side. On his right sat Chief Talagumpa, on his left the Princess Tiger Lily. All the people of the tribe sat ranged around a large circle, the fire at it's heart and Peter at its head. Temporarily relieved of all worry and responsibility, Peter sat like a puppet, accepting food and drink without comment or complaint while warriors and maiden's danced for his entertainment and drums filled the evening air with a throbbing rhythm that set the blood singing and the heart pounding. As the feast and the night wore on, Peter even got up and danced himself, stamping his feet and whooping as loudly as any of the braves, his body glistening with oil and sweat, paint gleaming brightly on his gold skin, while his moccasined feet raised a dust cloud with each step. Tiger Lily, prompted by her father, danced for Peter while he sat panting at the end of his dance, the Indian princess making graceful, delicate hand movements while her feet moved her around in a pattern, always bringing her closer to Peter. As the voices rose around them, Tiger Lily, caught up in the beat and pattern of the dance, ended it by throwing her arms about Peter's neck and kissing him soundly, the startled young man returning her enthusiastically until the Princess pulled back, blushing scarlet amid the cheers and whoops of her people. Hastily she returned to her place on the other side of her father, Peter sitting bemusedly in his chair, his fingers lifting to touch his lips as if in a dream. The night wore on with more drinking and dancing, the stars visible between the scudding clouds, the moon not yet risen. The Chief finally clapped his hands to signal the end of the feast when Peter toppled out of his chair, face first into the dirt. Two braves picked up the insensible Pan and carried him to a tent nearby, dumping him on a pallet of furs after divesting him of his feathered war bonnet. Tink watched the men leave then fluttered down and sat on the pillow beside Peter's head. Catching a whiff of beery breath, the fairy screwed up her face, wafting her hand up and down and making rude noises about boys who can't handle their beer, before fluttering off to find a bed for the night. The village settled down quickly, the fires quenched, and guards placed until only the sound of snoring filled the air. Those left on guard heard the distance howl of a wolf, the mournful sound soon taken up by other voices, the cries filling the night before suddenly stopping, leaving the listeners whispering between each other and wondering just how far away the wolf pack was.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

While Peter submitted to being feted by the Indians, Wendy was experiencing something similar in a cave that almost defied description. She and Jack had reached the yawning mouth of the cave just as the skies opened and rain poured down from the clouds that had been gathering all afternoon. Jack had thought to himself it had been an indication that Peter was hot on their trail, but now it seemed it was not the Pan at all. A flash of lightning chivvied them across the rocky floor and towards the back of the wide cavern, the flashes of lightning revealing no obstacles to hinder their mad dash from the downpour outside.

Wendy had turned and was watching the cascade of water creating a curtain across the mouth of the opening, her eyes wide as the sheer fury of the storm outside. The air was becoming chill and she rubbed her arms to chase away the goose flesh, her teeth clenched to prevent them chattering. Jack was more interested in the cave itself than the weather outside, his eyes narrowed as he tried to pierce the gloom between the flashes of light.

“This is supposed to be the cave of dreams?” He muttered to himself, staring at the high ceiling then the back of the cave, sure that he'd seen something after the last flash. A bright slice of light washed the interior, illuminating everything for a brief second, and Jack drew in a gasp, sure that he'd seen movement among the rocks. Suddenly a light flared into existence, a torch held in a sconce against the rock wall, the flame leaping as first one then another further along burst into light. Wendy let out a small shriek when a torch flared into life near to where she stood, the invisible torch lighter setting those on the opposite wall burning once all were lit down one side. Soon Jack and Wendy were standing in a cave so brightly lit that is seemed they stood inside a fire itself, their multiple shadows dancing madly on the floor and walls like so many fire sprites.

“J-Jack?”

“Nothing to do with me....”

“Then who...?”

“Maybe I can answer that,” a voice, deep and mellifluous, drifted from the back of the cave, the two young people turning to face the man walking with stately grace towards them. He looked familiar despite being dressed in a flowing robe dyed in a multitude of colors like a discordant rainbow.

“Chief Talagumpa?” Jack queried, his voice carrying a world of disbelief even as he spoke.

“Is that...Tiger Lily's father?” Wendy asked, mesmerized by the man's measured approach. “How did you get here?”

The man came to a halt several feet from his visitors, his face studiously bland as he regarded them, his shadowed eyes missing nothing as they stared unblinkingly as the pair before him. In one hand he held a tall staff, the wooden surface heavily carved and ornamented with stones that caught the light, twinkling like stars.

“You are Black Jack, are you not?” The man asked, his dark eyes coming to rest on the young pirate.

“I am....who are you?” Jack had already guessed that the Indian before them was not Chief Talagumpa, despite a remarkable likeness to the man. “Are you his brother or twin?” Jack persisted, taking a step forward. The man lifted his chin a notch and stared at Jack down his patrician nose.

“Stupa,”

Jack found he couldn't utter a word, his hands reaching for his own throat as he tried to make a sound come out of his mouth. With eyes wide, he opened and shut his mouth, no sound coming from him despite his best efforts. His fear and amazement turning quickly to rage, Jack launched himself at the man with his hands outstretched like claws.

“Bindum,” said the man, his free hand performing a single gesture towards Jack, rendering the young man immobile in mid air, frozen with his feet off the ground and his hands still outstretched.

Wendy watched it all with her heart drumming loudly in her chest. The Indian man looked like the Chief, it was true, a startling likeness indeed, but it was obvious that he wasn't who he looked like, his clothes quite unlike what the Tribe wore. What he had done to Jack filled her with a dread that threatened to rob her of her senses, the torches along the wall starting to bob and weave erratically. Suddenly she was no longer on her feet but laying down, a soft couch at her back and the roar of the storm gone. Sitting up, Wendy swung her legs off the pallet and looked around. She was still in the cavernous mouth of the cave, but water no longer sheeted down outside, the entrance black and huge with only a few puddles to indicate the presence of the waterfall it had been before. Torches still burned along the walls, but fewer than before and there was no sign of either Jack or the Indian man. Leaving her comfortable couch with some reluctance, Wendy padded across the stone floor, her eyes darting in all directions for some indication of where her companions had gone. A glance upwards made her stop in her tracks, her mouth falling open as she stared at the paintings adorning the roof of the cave. The flickering blaze of the torches revealed a richly painted ceiling, the colors amazingly bright and glowing, the figures of animals and people rendered almost lifelike as they danced across the rocky surface, the variety of creatures both mythical and real quite astounding.

Slowly she made her way further and further into the cave, the images almost leading her onwards, the torches behind her extinguishing themselves as she progressed inward. Despite all the frightening and wonderful things she'd seen, Wendy felt little fear, the sheer beauty of the painted ceiling dispelling any fear of the artist who had created such a wonder. A sound made her pause, the far distant mournful howl of a wolf, soon joined by others, caused the hair on her arms to stand up. While the wolves howled, Wendy stood still, listening to the eerie sound until it died away and all was silent again. Ahead of her more torches flared into life, leading her ever onwards, deeper and deeper into the hillside, the paintings starting to extend to the walls, the figures dancing alongside her, encouraging her onwards.

Guided only by her own feeling that this was where she needed to be, Wendy walked forward, a new sound drawing her onward, the distant sound of music so unearthly it made her want to run towards it, just to find out what was making so sweet a melody.

Behind her, the torches that had put themselves out melted once more back into the rock walls. Her footsteps in the dirt and dust of the cave floor quickly swept away so that there was nothing to mark Wendy's passage through the cave, the cavern left unmarked by any evidence that a human form had ever entered or passed through. Even the painted ceiling was no more, the bright images once more turned to stone and rock, their form lost in the shadows and striations of the marble surface.

Wendy had entered the cave of dreams.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

20/2/07

Chapter: Ten – Closing the Gap

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Stretch squatted in the shade of a tree, Grub and Harry beside him while they waited for Squid to indicate their next move. They'd tracked Wendy and her abductor across the blackened wasteland, avoiding the Ashbeast by the simple ruse of making a large enough bonfire to keep the beast happy while they crossed it's domain unmolested. They had found the campfire and seen the marks of the Wolves, Squid pronouncing gloomily that they'd be lucky to find much more than scraps if they caught up with them.

“Look how many were here,” Squid pointed at the ground, “ 'undreds of them. They're dog tucker for sure!”

“There's not blood, no ripped clothes,” observed Harry, staring around the campsite.

“I've never seen a wolf, Squid,” said Grub, awe evident in his voice, “ 'ave you?”

“Nope. We don't hunt them, they don't 'unt us. It's the law.”

“Then where does the Indian's get the pelts?” Stretch asked, “ 'cos I know Peter's bed is covered in them, ain't it.”

“Ask the bloody Indian's, I don't know. I only knows that if we leave them alone, they leave us alone,” Squid growled, his eyes never leaving the pattern of paw and foot prints on the ground.

“But we have to follow them, if we're to find the Wendy Lady.” Happy pointed out, Stretch and Grub nodding their agreement.

“True.....so keep your eyes pealed, and yelp if you see anything move,” Squid ordered, waving them forward to follow him. “It'll be dark soon and they'll have the advantage, so move fast and quiet-like.”

“I don't want to be dog tucker Squid,”

“And ya won't be Grub. Remember – fast and quiet.”

The small party of Lost Boys made good time, the tracks of the wolves and their captives clear in the mud and dust of the woods, Squid barely needing to glance down to see the way to go. Soon they were standing in the shadows of the trees bordering a great meadow. They could see off in the distance the forms of wolves moving between several raised mounds of dirt. Apart from the distant barks and yips of the wolves, there was not evidence of a human among them. Squid had out his spyglass, the small tube held to his eye as he searched the meadow.

“Nothin' but pups and females, far as I can make out.”

“Well, that's a relief. They're not likely to attack us, are they?” Harry asked. Squid lowered the glass and gave the younger boy a scathing look.

“Females are the most vicious, 'specially when defending their young.”

Harry, Grub and Stretch all swallowed, sweat breaking out on their palms and foreheads as they waited for Squid to finish his reconnaissance of the wolf meadow. Still holding the glass to his eye, Squid spoke again.

“Don't see no males. Reckon we circle around, down wind of that lot and see what we can pick up on t'other side. Maybe they took 'em somewhere.....”

“Maybe they ate them already,” Stretch moaned, barely ducking in time to avoid Squid's fist.

“Shut your cake hole.” Squid ordered, glaring at the others in turn before motioning them forward. “Follow me and keep your 'eads down.”

Bent double, the four Lost Boys sped through the thick grass, its rank height keeping them hidden from the wolf families up ahead. Squid held onto his collection of weapons to stop them jangling together as he ran, the others doing something similar as they raced to reach the trees without being detected. Once more in the shadows of the forest they rested before sending Stretch up a tall tree to get a better view over the meadow. He shimmied down and joined the others, sprawling his long frame out and fanning himself.

“Still nothing but pups and bitches, far as I can tell.” Stretch reported, swatting at an insect.

“Good. We still 'ave 'ours before dark, let's make the most of them. Stay downwind, an' keep low until we gets higher up the hill. Look out for tracks 'cos I reckon they must have gone up, if they was here.”

“Right you are Squid,” “Right O Guv'nor,” replied the others getting to their feet and hurrying after him as he stomped off between the densely packed trees.

An hour later and they had picked up the trail again, Grub spotting the imprint of a bare foot in the soft earth, Stretch reporting a mass of wolf paw marks shadowing the human trail.

“Reckon they went willingly?” Harry asked, looking back down the hill, the meadow no longer visible but still making him nervous.

“At least they're still alive,” Squid grunted, taking the lead and waving the others onwards. The dense thickets gave way to woodland, and eventually thinned to hillside pasture. The sun was well down in the sky when Squid called a halt, raising his arm and signaling for the others to get low.

“What is it?” Harry asked, exchanging worried glances around the open area, the tall grasses seemingly dotted with large rocky outcrops.

“Don't you smell that?” Squid asked, tilting his head and sniffing the air. The others did the same, Grub screwing his face up with the effort.

“Smell what?” Harry asked. Squid shook his head and flattened himself on his belly, the others following suit. There were few trees this far up the slope and the sun was starting to sink, highlighting the cairn of rocks at the summit.

“Wolves,” Squid hissed, easing his bow off his back along with an arrow, the others exchanging uneasy looks before doing the same. Grub lifted himself up enough to see over the heads of the others, his quick glance noting a quantity of large black rocks scattered over the ground ahead, like marbles tossed carelessly about.

“There's nuffin there but a bunch of old rocks,” Grub whispered, shrugging when Squid shot the young boy a glare. As they lay in the long grass, the last of the sun warm on their backs, the four boys heard a noise that made the hair on the back of their necks stand straight up. The first haunting howl was quickly joined by a chorus of others, the air suddenly full of unearthly sound coming from all around the small huddle of Lost Boys, the last of the sun leaving the rocky outcrop above and casting the hillside into long shadows and gloom.

“Squi-i-id?” Harry's tremulous voice cut through the sudden silence following the departure of the sun. A flash of lightning suddenly rent the sky, making all of the jump, the sky suddenly black with cloud. Another flash preceded a downpour that soaked everything on the hillside in seconds. Squid started to curse under his breath, the rain flattening his hair and making it drip into his eyes. Like a tap turning off, the rain suddenly stopped, the sky clearing in a way that only happened in Neverland.

As if the rain had been a signal, the rocks devolved into the dark shapes of massive wolves, the black mounds surrounding the small huddle of wet boys in an unbroken circle. The fierce looking beasts walked forward, a growl from one alerting their prey only a second before they were surrounded, Harry letting out a shriek when one creature suddenly snapped at him, seizing the boys' bow and splintering it in two.

One animal stepped forward from the pack and opened it's mouth.

“This is no place for Lost Boys,” growled the animal through it's frightening teeth.

“Did that-that wolf sp-speak?” Stretch asked, his eyes as wide as saucers. Squid ignored him and answered the leader of the pack.

“We're lookin' for someone. We saw tracks and followed 'em.”

“The one you seek is in the Cave of Dreams and beyond your reach. Go back Lost boys,” the wolf growled, its dark eyes gleaming in the half light.

“We can't......” Harry started to say.

“Only the Pan can enter the cave. If you won't leave you will stay with us and wait. Surrender your weapons.” The leader growled more forcefully, the other members of the pack baring their teeth in a frightening array of white, pointed fangs.

“Reckon we should do as he says Squid,” Stretch muttered, edging back and bumping in to Harry and Grub.

“Reckon so.” Squid agreed, dropping his quiver and knife onto the grass at his feet. “Hand over ya stuff boys.....”

With the Lost Boy's disarmed, the pack started to melt away, leaving only a few to guard the boys. The sky was now clear and covered in stars, the black rocky outcrop at the summit framed by diamonds on a velvet cloth.

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Wendy swayed, her feet almost dancing over the rocky floor, the music leading her ever onwards. The figures beside her urged her onwards, flickering like flames over the rock face as they frolicked and cavorted on the painted stone canvas. So absorbed by the experience, she didn't notice when the passageway opened into a round cavern, the music leading her to dance in a circle, Wendy spinning faster and faster until she was breathless and dizzy, laughing for the sheer joy of it. Abruptly the music ended, the figures on the walls fading into nothing and leaving their captive standing in the center of a rocky room. Wendy stared about her with some surprise, the rounded entrance to the cave now replaced by a wooden door set into a stone frame, each of the six doors sporting a different design carved into their surface. Shiny brass door knobs invited investigation and Wendy stared at each door in turn before making her choice. She was a little fearful of being enclosed in the round room, but the ceiling was so high she didn't feel shut in, a light infusing the walls and casting no shadows as she stood hesitating in the center. Looking down at her feet she could see what looked like six different paved pathways leading one to each door, radiating out like spokes from a central circle in which she stood.

“Am I supposed to choose?” She asked out loud, turning full circle, “is that what you want me to do?”

No one answered her, despite her repeating the questions and waiting for an answer for several minutes. She stayed standing in the center, almost afraid to step out of the circle, staring at the doors and trying to make out the carvings. It was as if a veil drew over her vision every time she tried to focus, the images remaining elusive until, she supposed, she decided on which door to try first. As if to help her make up her mind, the light in the cavern dimmed and only remained around one of the doors, a faint light now appearing to come from behind it.

“So you want me to try this door,” Wendy chewed her lip for a second before stepping on to the pathway that led to the door outlined in light. Above the door, carved into the stone lintel were words.

“A future to consider” Wendy read aloud, “what could that mean?” Feeling incredibly nervous, Wendy reached out her hand for the round brass door handle, the metal cool to the touch. With a quick twist and a pull the door opened outward, the view beyond the door obscured by a swirling white mist. Drawing in a steadying breath, Wendy stepped through the doorway and into the mist.

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Jack paced his cage like a tiger, the bars not moving when in a rage he gripped them in both hands and tried to shake them loose. Frustrated he went back to his pacing, the stone walls closing in on him, raising a sweat that beaded lip and forehead. He'd awoken on the stone floor, his head aching to find himself alone and caged like an animal. He'd shouted for someone to free him for the first hour, then spent the next searching for a way out, only to be left hoarse and exhausted at the end. Now, after a rest, he was pacing again, a flickering pitch torch his only companion. He turned away to walk the few steps to the back of the cell, and when he turned he found himself facing the old man that looked as alike to be Chief Talagumpa twin.

“Hell......where did you spring from?” Jack yelped in surprise, taking a quick step back. The old man smiled enigmatically as he thumped the end of his staff on the stone floor. At once the metal bars faded away, leaving the two of them standing in a cave with no entrance or exit. Jack felt sweat trickling down his back, his fears starting to make his heart thump and his hands go clammy. Clenching his fingers into fists, he fought the urge to beg the man for release, instead glaring balefully at the man to hide his terror.

“You have had a taste of what will become of you if you do not change, Black Jack. You have no reason to fear or envy Peter, he is not your enemy.”

“What can you know about anything?” Jack shouted, leaning forward and poking a finger at the man's chest. “I should be the Pan, not him, and I would have been if I hadn't slipped. I was winning.....”

“You would never have won, it was not your destiny.”

“Peter's weak...he doesn't deserve to be the Pan,” Jack cocked his thumb at his own chest, “I was stronger, faster. Look at him now, mooning over this girl....weak and not worthy!”

“Who are you to decide who is worthy Black Jack. You were quite prepared to sacrifice that girl to destroy all of Neverland...or so you believe.”

“And I would have succeeded if those damn dogs hadn't intervened.”

“You should be grateful Jack, the wolves may have saved your life.”

Jack snorted and ignored the older man, swinging away to glare at the stone walls.

“I am not Talagumpa, as you must realize, but I am connected with the Chief. What he knows I know, and what I know is passed to him. You could say I am the heart, and the Chief the eyes and ears. In that way the good of Neverland and its life source are kept in check and balance. You tried to stamp your own mark on a process you know nothing about. If you had succeeded did you think you would escape the consequences?” His robes swirling around his legs, the old man circled Jack and came to stand in front of him once more. “Are you not interested in what your destiny might be?”

Jack had his arms folded over his chest in a futile defiance of the words battering at his senses. The old man smiled serenely at him, his dark eyes holding a wealth of secrets and wonders as well as a strange sense of peace and trust. Slowly Jack started to relax, some of the anger leaching out of him as he held the old man's stare. “Where's the girl?” He asked at last.

“Wendy Darling is facing her own trial. If she is to stay here in Neverland, she must fully understand what she is giving up and taking on. A choice you were going to take away from her, from all of us.”

Jack looked down, suddenly overwhelmed with a sharp stab of shame. “I just want to leave this place.”

“That you can never do Jack....you time in the real world is past and gone. Neverland is your home, your place. Either that, or oblivion.”

“And if I choose oblivion?” Jack asked, looking up and meeting the old man's gaze.

“Would you not rather see what a different choice could give you?”

“How?”

“Just walk through that door Jack....a simple twist of a door knob and you could come out the other side a changed man.”

“I like the man I am!” Jack retorted, some of his belligerence returning. The old Indian just smiled slightly and leant of his staff, his robes moving as if a breeze blew through the cave. Jack wondered at that as he felt no such swirl of air on his face. Puzzled, he turned to find a wooden door behind him, set into the stone wall as if it had always been there. A faint light rimmed the wood, the brass knob glowing as if in invitation.

“Will I see you again?” Jack asked, resigned to walking through the door. The old man beamed at the young man, his eyes crinkling up at the corners.

“Anything is possible Jack...remember that...anything is possible.”

Feeling his fears melt away, Black Jack tilted his head up and straightened his shoulders. Without a backward glance he marched up to the door and reached out to wrench it open, the brass handle warm to his touch. The door swung wide on well oiled hinges, a soft white light bathing the young man. Jack hesitated a second, then stepped over the threshold and disappeared into the mist beyond, the door swinging slowly shut behind him. It then disappeared into the rock face as if it had never been. In the center of the room the rainbow clothed man with the staff stretched out his arms before tilting his head to stare up at the rocky ceiling.

“So let it be.” Stamping the staff three times on the stone floor, a light started to glow around his head, infusing his robes and body until it appeared insubstantial, the light fading into nothing and leaving the cavern empty and dark.

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Wendy batted her hand to clear the fog in front of her face, her eyes opening wide when she saw what was in front of her. A path led through a grassed graveyard to a small church, the bell pealing out even as she stood hesitating at the church gate. The faint sound of organ music drifted out of the open doorway along with the raised voices of a congregation singing. Bemused, Wendy made to step forward, her legs impeded by the quantity of skirt now covering her. Staring down at herself she gave a gasp, her fingers smoothing over the white satin and lace of the bodice, before making a check of her head to find a flowered bandeau holding a veil in place. She was wearing a wedding dress, of all things, her feet no longer bare but shod in dainty satin pumps while her hands were encased in white lace fingerless gloves that extended to her elbows leaving a short stretch of skin before disappearing into delicate puff sleeves like wisps of cloud on her shoulders. The organ music had stopped and the bell no longer ringing and Wendy started up the cobbled path towards the Norman arched doorway, drawn irresistibly inside. After the brightness of the sunshine, the dark interior blinded her for several seconds, her blue eyes blinking to adjust. The church was more of a chapel with only a few pews on either side of the aisle leading up to the alter rail, the wall behind pierced by narrow stained glass windows. The end of each pew was decorated with flowers and ribbons and everyone present turned as one to stare at Wendy as she stood at the end of the aisle, everyone that is except the man standing waiting for her at the steps leading up to the alter. He was tall and broad shouldered, but beyond that she could see nothing of his face or coloring Still bemused she started down the aisle, the peoples faces pale blurs as she tried to focus on the man standing still with his back to her. Her steps faltered when she saw a white robed priest approach and face her, beckoning her forward. At last the man who stood in the place of the groom slowly turned to face her, his face older than she'd seen him, his long dark hair slicked back and tied in an old fashioned queue.

“Jack?”

“Aye, you were expecting someone else?” He reached out his hand but Wendy took a step back, her head shaking as she tried to understand.

“No.....I can't marry you......this is all wrong.”

“It's you that's wrong......everyone's waiting, come on.”

“No.....no...I can't.....not you, never you....” grasping her skirts in her hands, Wendy fled the church, her thin shoes slipping on the slate floor as she darted out the door and back into the sunshine. An uproar followed her out, people shouting and calling her name, a few crashing chords sounding from the church organ as she fled down the path towards the gate. Her veil flew out behind her like a tortured wing, snagging on a hawthorn bush as she passed, her fingers fumbling with the gate latch. At last it let go and she flung it wide casting a glance over her shoulder as she ran into the road.

Only to find herself back in the round walled cavern, the wooden door slamming shut behind her as she skidded to a halt in the circle. Panting, Wendy looked down at herself, her wedding finery all gone leaving behind her grass stained and grubby Indian dress and bare feet. Passing a shaking hand over her eyes Wendy closed them briefly before turning back to face the door she'd so precipitously shot through. To her shock it was gone, the path leading only to an solid rock wall, the outline of the wooden door clearly visible, but of the wood planking with it's brass doorknob there was no sign.

“Oh thank goodness....” she breathed, her heart starting to slow from its hectic thumping. When her breathing had slowed, Wendy tried to understand what she'd just been apart of. It was unthinkable that she'd marry Jack, wasn't it? For one she was too young to get married, she didn't even like the young man in that way, did she? What exactly was she supposed to do? One thing she did know, Jack wasn't remotely the marrying kind, even if Wendy thought of him that way, which she didn't. “Oh no, I don't,” she reiterated to the empty room, “and no one will convince me otherwise.”

That dealt with, Wendy decided to choose another door, “for one must lead me back to the outside, surely.”

Deciding to let fate choose, Wendy closed her eyes and slowly turned in a circle, stopping after a few seconds and pointing her finger before opening her eyes. It was childish and she blushed to think that anyone was watching, but it worked and she slowly made her way down one of the paths to stand before another of the wooden doors. This one also had a motto carved over the lintel and she read it aloud. “A future unwanted.”

“Well that could have been that last one, if anyone had bothered to ask me.” With only the faintest of hesitations, Wendy reached for the door handles and opened the portal, again finding a white mist shrouding what lay beyond. “In for a penny...” she muttered as she stepped into the swirling mass, the door closing slowly behind her.

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Peter awoke thinking his mouth had suddenly grown an extra tongue, and a furry one at that. Rolling on to his side he groaned, his body feeling strange and heavy as if he'd been fighting nonstop for days on end. The Indian tepee was gloomy but light was already starting to bleed in around the entrance flap revealing that he had slept in solitary splendor in a tent that usually housed entire families of the natives. Beside the sleeping pallet had been thoughtfully placed a pitcher of water, Peter grabbing the urn and upending it, tipping the entire contents into his mouth so that it spilled over and doused his neck and chest as well. It was cold and went a long way to waking him up more thoroughly. Tossing the jug aside, he managed to find his feet with the aid of the central pole, his body still feeling lethargic but the sensation starting to ebb the more he moved around. He looked down at himself, a little surprised to find all his leaves gone and a pair of leggings in their place. Also he was liberally painted with red and white daubs, streaked after the water and from him scratching at his chest. His face felt tight as well and he suspected that more paint was decorating his cheeks, flakes coming away when he investigated.

“I must look a mess,” he mused out loud, his voice sounding odd in the empty tepee. Staggering a little, but feeling lighter with each step, Peter made his way to the entrance flap and pushed it to one side. Squinting, he left the tent and paused to stretch before walking a little unsteadily through the Indian camp. Everywhere was evidence that a great party had taken place the night before. Small fires still smoldered and gourds littered the ground while the camp dogs helped themselves to whatever scraps had been left out overnight. The sun was starting to rise, burning off the morning chill as Peter made his way out of the camp and into the trees beyond. Once out of sight of the village he leant against a tree for a moment, feeling a surge of energy reach out to him from the tree itself as if offering to help him. The sun speared a shaft of light through the trees and Peter stretched out his hands towards it, its warmth and strength adding to his energy levels and banishing the lingering lethargy in his limbs. While his body renewed itself and threw off any remaining after effects, his mind started to clear as well, memory flooding in and reminding him of the events of the last day or so.

“Wendy!” Her name rolled off his tongue and he felt his heart leap in response. Noises from the village behind him announced that others were stirring and he needed to leave now or be detained further by the Chief and his well meaning people. Keen not to be found, Peter started to run, his body feeling lighter with each step until he knew that he could fly once more, leaping into the air and shooting upwards like a meteor, the ground falling away until he halted his steep climb and hung in the air, looking back down at his island, his Neverland. Somewhere below him were his Lost Boys and His Wendy. He had to find both, but first he needed to re-equip himself and get a new suit of leaves. His memory supplied the location of a nearby cache of weapons as well as other needs, his body streaking back down towards the island in a blur of speed until he disappeared into the upper canopy of the jungle forest and out of sight.

An hour later he re-emerged from the forest tree tops once more clothed as Peter Pan and ready to start his search. He felt renewed and invigorated, his hair taking on the glow of sunlight, reflecting the sheen of vigorous health evidence in his bronzed skin and honed muscles. It was as if he'd been newly minted, the energy of the trees and animals of his island buzzing through him and making him stronger and faster than he'd ever been. The wounds from his fight with Hook were fully healed and barely visible, his mind clear and fully focused on only one thing – to find where his Wendy was and bring her back.

A bright light bobbed up beside him and he looked to his left, grinning at the tiny sprite rubbing her eyes as she hovered beside him.

“Mornin' Tink.”

Loud chimes met his greeting, the tiny fairy grumbling at him for not waking her and leaving her behind.

“Well, you're here now, so let's get going.” Another chorus of tinkling chimes answered him and he laughed.

“Yes I know what I'm doing Tink. No more delays or distraction. If the pirates attacked the south end of the camp, then we start our search at the north end. Now keep up, or you'll get left behind.” With a cheeky grin at his fairy companion, Peter swooped down and darted between the trees, Tink struggling to keep up as he wove a fast paced path through the forest, back towards the Indian village to the trail that circled northwards. Alighting on the path, Peter soon found where the pirates had been stupefied by Black Jack, Tink finding the break in the jungle that showed the path leading off at an angle, the same one taken by Jack and Wendy, and later by the Lost Boys on Peter's behalf.

“Well done Tink.....let's be off!”

Like a hawk following its prey, Peter over flew the trail leading up to the monoliths and further until he reached the boundary of the Ashbeast. Here he landed briefly to check where the trail led before leaping once more into the air, his keen eyes following the clear tracks in the sooty ash coating the ground. Over the next ridge he picked up the trail and found the small fire where Jack and Wendy were found by the wolves. With Tink in close attendance Peter walked around the campsite, noting the paw marks as well as the footprints left by the Lost boy's following Wendy's trail. Peter didn't know who had taken her, but from his footwear and other evidence it was obviously one of the pirates. The only thing Peter knew for sure was that it wasn't Hook himself that had her in his clutches, plus the fact that whoever did was traveling away from where the pirates and their ship were currently berthed.

“The wolves have them Tink......time to reacquaint myself with the pack. It's been awhile.....” Taking a second to check his weapons, Peter once more leapt into the sky, Tink right behind him. The sun was high in the sky, its warm infusion giving Peter a surge of confidence that he'd soon be reunited with Wendy and everything would be the way it should be. He would soon dismiss all her misgivings and convince her of the rightness of them being together. It all seemed so simple now, he just had to tell her how he felt and everything would be alright. Buoyed by his happy thoughts, Peter flew like an arrow along the well marked wolf trail until soon the broad meadow appeared before him.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Inside the cave of dreams time had no meaning. Sitting cross legged on a flattened boulder, an old man in a rainbow colored robe drew his staff back and forth in the dust of the cave floor, drawing intricate patterns that briefly flared into life, coiling and writhing for a few seconds before returning to just inert scratchings made by someone passing the time. Walbassa stared thoughtfully at the ground, his fingers letting go of the heavily carved staff, the magic spell continuing without his guidance with new pictures drawn even as the old ones disappeared back into the dust. With his hands free he pressed them together as if in supplication, his eyes closing, his mind flying free of the cave and its confines and ranging over the world outside. He saw Peter arrive at the broad meadow, the boy landing among the grasses and carefully approaching the wolves and their pups.

“Yes Peter....I would be cautious. It's been some time since you visited with them.” Like a bird freed from a cage, Walbassa left Peter and the meadow and flew further, circling back after some time to the rocky outcrop and the two held within. He dwelt briefly on the girl, now entering her second dream, the images blurred and requiring him to concentrate harder to see them clearly. Grunting to himself, he left her and focused on the young man he'd sent on a journey into the Never Realm. He knew what was truly in the boys' heart and was sure that in the end he would make the right choice. Satisfied that everything was going as it should, Walbassa released his hold and came back to himself, the staff ceasing it's independent movement and falling comfortably back into the old mans hand when he reached for it.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

29/3/07

Chapter: Eleven – So Many Doors, So Little Time

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Wendy Darling flapped her hand to clear the grey mist obscuring her vision, an image becoming clear of a street remarkably similar to one she'd traveled every day of her life back in London.

“Why......I'm home!” Perplexed, Wendy turned and found that the doorway was gone, only an alley way stretching behind her with dark shadows and noisome piles of rubbish. In fact everywhere she looked appeared abandoned and desolate, the street pavement cracked and damaged, the roadway covered in dead leaves and windblown detritus. “What has happened here?” She asked out loud, taking a tentative step forward to the edge of the footpath. The sky overhead was leaden, the houses either side of her shut up and looking uninhabited for some time. An odd noise made her look up to see a strange elongated balloon pass overhead, its engines droning like enormous bees as it slowly made its stately way over the roof tops and out of sight. “Whatever in the world was that?” Wendy mused, stepping off the pavement and into the roadway. An eerie silence pervaded the block of terraced housing, no shouting or clatter of wagons and carts, no hansom cabs or horses neighing, no dogs barking or evidence of people at all. Yet this was usually a busy roadway with servants and residents bustling about their business, the traffic trundling along almost all hours of the day and night. “Hello?” Wendy called out, stepping over a large pile of dead leaves accumulated around a broken wooden box cast away in the middle of the road. “Can anyone hear me?”

Silence greeted her calls, only the wind whirling the brittle leaves along the street made any sound. The drone of a motor heralded the return of the unusual flying device over the buildings, Wendy watching its slow progress before walking quickly towards the house that she recognized as her own. Taking the steps two at a time she lifted her hand to rap the door knocker only to find the front door unlatched, swinging inward and revealing the dark interior of the house. Looking back from her more elevated position, Wendy could see what looked like a pile of debris in front of where a house would have stood further down the street, bricks tumbled half way across the street, along with broken furniture and blackened beams. Thoroughly alarmed, Wendy hurried into the entrance lobby of her home.

“Mother......Father....I'm home. Is anyone here?” Hurriedly she peered into the two front rooms, both of them empty and the furniture covered in Holland cloths, ghostly in the grey light from outside. “Please, can anyone hear me? Is anyone in the house?” With her breath leaving her in sobs, Wendy climbed the staircase, her hand slipping on the banister and causing her to stumble on the landing. Everything was where she'd left it, the pictures still on the walls and the rooms as she remembered, except for the dust coverings over the larger pieces. The difference was the complete absence of life, her fingers fumbling with the recently installed electric light switch, the toggle not producing anything other than a dull clicking noise. Desperate for light, Wendy pulled open a drawer, looking for matches or anything to use to light one of the ever present oil lamps placed beside the beds. She found nothing in any of the drawers, they were all empty of clothes, belongings and the usual clutter associated with human habitation. One drawer stuck as she tried to pull it out, Wendy tugging it with more force than usual only to have the handle break off in her hand. Scared and angry, she lashed out at the drawer, pulling it out with both hands and dashing it on the floor.

“Where is everyone? Where are you?” Wendy screamed at the empty room, her voice echoing through the house. Apart from the distant drone of the flying machine going over the roof, there were no other sounds in the house or from the street. In a panic, Wendy flew from room to room, searching desk tops and mantles for any letters left behind, thinking distractedly that if her parents had to leave in such a hurry they may have left a message for her. The search was in vain, Wendy ending up back where she started, standing in the gaping doorway on her own home, no wiser as to what had happened to her family, or where they had gone. Sinking on to the top step of her home she hugged her knees, burying her head against them while tears leaked out of her screwed tight eyes, soaking her skirt. How long she stayed there she had no idea.

“Are you lookin' for someone deary?”

The voice made her jump. In front of her stood an old woman, stooped and wrinkled, clothed in rags and looking in dire need of a good bath.

“Yes.....yes I am. The family that lived here....” Wendy indicated the doorway behind her. “Do you know what happened to them?”

“Let me see,” the old woman tilted her head to look up at the house, squinting slightly before returning her gaze to the girl in front of her. “This be the Darling house, isn't it?”

“Yes...that's right. George and Mary Darling lived here, with their three children....”

“Three? Oh no deary, not three.....just two boys, if I remember rightly.”

“No, that's not right. There was a girl, the eldest...” Wendy willed the old lady to agree.

“Nope, never heard of no girl.....oh wait a minute, now you come to mention it. There was a girl once, a long time ago. Such a kafuffle there was at the time. She went missing. Yes, that's right, disappeared out of her bed as if she'd never existed. Had the police around here sniffing about and disturbing folk, a right ol' muddle.”

“But.....I've only been gone a little while...” Wendy said faintly, the old lady not taking any notice and carrying on with her narrative.

“I remember now, they posted advertisements in the newspaper, and went around knocking on doors for every such a long time.” She sighed, settling her hands together across her chest. “Sad business it was, and no mistake.”

Wendy sat sunk in a well of misery, her brain unable to think beyond that fact that her family had been frantically looking for her.

“Of course, we all thought she must be dead, poor girl,” the old lady rambled on. The drone of the flying machine interrupted and the old lady spat violently on the pavement, her face creased in a ferocious scowl. Raising her fist she shook it at the zeppelin as it floated over head. “Bastards, go back to the Kaiser and bomb him!” She turned back to face Wendy, at last noting the girls devastated expression. “Did you know the family deary?”

“Yes......I did.” She looked up. “Please.....what has been happening here? What are those strange flying things? And what happened to that building down there, where is everyone?”

“Well now, fancy you not knowing.....been living on an island somewhere? It's the war deary, the war. Bombs dropping down on honest folk and blowing them all to bits, it's dreadful, I tell you. Simply dreadful.”

“War?” Wendy stared at the woman blankly. “What war? What year is this?”

“What an odd question, it's nineteen sixteen. There's only one war, the one that's ruining good men's lives is what. Now come along, you can't stay here....we've been luckier than some and not been bombed the last couple of night, but with that bloody great thing cruising overhead we'd be mad to stay here.”

“Nineteen sixteen.....ten years have passed!” Wendy looked profoundly shocked, her eyes wide and disbelieving. “But the house......my family..”

“Come along now......they're long gone, safely out of London if they've got any sense. You come with Aggie, I'll see you safe. Hurry now, it's getting dark.” As if to punctuate her warnings, the ground shook as an explosion rocked the street. “Oh my gawd, they've started.....hurry deary, hurry or we'll both be blown to smithereens!”

With a surprisingly strong grip the old lady pulled Wendy down the steps and across the street, another explosion, closer this time, making the ground undulate and almost tripping Wendy as she hurried after Aggie. They were heading for the alleyway, the drone of the zeppelin sounding loud over their panting breaths, Wendy looking back once over her shoulder to see a gout of flame explode from one of the terrace houses, bricks and glass raining down on the street. Suddenly they were plunged into darkness, the tall walls of the buildings cutting off any light from the overcast sky. At the mouth of the narrow passage, a huge explosion blew the two women over, slamming Aggie into the wall and sending Wendy sprawling. Smoke and dust choked everything, billowing clouds enveloping them as they coughed and moaned.

“Get up deary......get up,” Aggie wheezed, “get yourself through that door now. You be right safe there....go now!”

With streaming eyes and still coughing, Wendy staggered to the door and wrenched it open, almost falling through.

To find herself back in the cave once more, the wooden door banging shut behind her before melting back into the stone. Wendy whirled, her breath catching, “Aggie!” Her shout echoed back at her as she stared at the now solid wall, the door gone forever. Drawing in a steadying breath, Wendy slowly turned, her hands clenched in to fists as she tilted her head and shouted at the enclosing rock walls.

“This was supposed to be the cave of dreams,” she indicated the doors with a flick of one hand, “these are just nightmares! I want to go home!”

For a few seconds she waited, anger welling up and spilling over in tears and frustration. Oblivious to her turbulent emotions, another door became illuminated, beckoning her in, even going so far as to click open by itself so it stood a little ajar. Not enough to see inside, but enough to entice. Wendy ignored it for almost five minutes, then her commonsense won out. “I'm not going to get out of this horrid place unless I go through a door, am I?” She addressed the walls for want of anyone to talk to. Getting no reply, she scowled horribly then approached the waiting door. Looking up she read the script carved in to the lintel. “ A future so near. Now what in the world is that supposed to mean? Let's hope its a happier prospect that the previous two.”

Angry, and a little fearful, Wendy yanked the door wide and stepped through. There was no mist or fog this time, she walked right in to a thick jungle, the leaves and trees pressing close around her so that she couldn't see in front, behind or above. Pushing her way through the tangle, she almost fell into the clearing on the other side. The canopy was cleared here and sunlight poured down like a great golden shaft, the jungle all around looking darker in contrast. Blinking at the sudden change in light, Wendy shielded her eyes and squinted, seeing something at the center of the grassy glade, but unable to make out what it might be. The turf felt cool and soft under her bare feet, her steps noiseless as she approached. A gasp escaped her lips when she recognized the shape sprawled like a broken puppet, arms and legs flung out from the body and left at awkward angles.

“Peter!” Hurrying over, Wendy dropped to her knees and stared at the young man laying before her, his body like a rag doll cast away by a child. His face was turned away from her, his chest barely rising as he drew breath. “Peter what happened, why are you here?” She started to notice other things, the bruises up and down his arms and lower legs, the splotches of blood smeared over his torso, pooling at the base of his throat and visible in trickles from his nose and ears. “Oh Peter...what happened to you?” Gently she reached over and brushed his hair away from his face, her touch rousing him to turn his face towards her. Dark circles ringed his eyes and a deep gash ran up into his hair line. He coughed, his spittle colored red, his face contorted in a pain filled grimace as he fought to regain his breath. He stared up at her, no recognition in his gaze.

“Who are you?”

“Peter....its me, Wendy.....don't you remember?”

“We-endy......what a funny name. Are you an angel come to take me to heaven?”

“No.....oh no, Peter.....you're not going to die, don't think that.”

“I think you must be an angel....I can see your wings, and you look so pretty,” he swallowed with difficulty, his feverishly bright eyes never leaving her face.

“I have to get you some help Peter.....but I don't know where we are. Is the Indian village close?” Wendy tried to force a smile to her stiff lips, her eyes anguished a she listened to him take another painful breath.

“All gone....everyone gone....no one left to ask...” Peter smiled weakly and closed his eyes. “Neverland will be gone soon to.”

“Peter who did this? Was it Hook....did you fight again?” She picked up one of his hands, folding it between her own.

“Don't remember.....I suppose so......will it still hurt so much in heaven?” He opened his eyes again and Wendy felt her heart break at the life ebbing out of him. “Can you take me now....there's nothing to keep me here.”

“No, no Peter......there has to be someone who can help. What about your fairy? Can't you call her to use her magic?”

“No more magic.....no more fairies. Nobody believes anymore Wendy, not in magic or fairies or in me.”

“I believe Peter......I believe in you....in Neverland, in all of this. I'm sorry I didn't say so sooner, but I want to stay here, I want to stay with you.....please don't die.” Choked by tears, Wendy held his hand up to her cheek, kissing the broken knuckles and willing her strength in to him. “I will stay Peter....I'll stay and be your Queen.”

“I think I'd like to have you as my angel,” Peter rambled, his eyes unfocused as they drifted from her face to stare up at the sky. “I could quite enjoy dying if I knew you were there to meet me..........” His voice faded away, the light of life leaving his eyes, his last breath sighing out of his body and taking his soul with it. Wendy still clutched his hand, blinded by tears and barely able to breath for the sobs choking her throat. His stillness finally impinged on her grief, her heart giving an audible snap and sending a lancing pain through her chest when she realized he was gone.

“No.....oh no.....” leaning down, she pressed her lips to his, the flesh still retaining a little warmth, but no breath left in his body, nor light in his staring eyes. Peter Pan was dead. Above her head, the sun winked out of existence, plunging the glade into a gloomy half light laden with shadows. A distant roar was all the warning she got before a howling wind raged overhead, tossing the trees and branches back and forth until they broke and rained down, leaves swirling around like a blizzard, only the small space around Peter's body remaining clear of the maelstrom. Blinded by her tears, Wendy didn't see the jungle start to blacken and rot around her, the greenery melting away like paint running in the rain, trees crashing to the ground before being picked up by the wind and whirled away in a mad tornado of destruction.

Wendy felt numb, her tears drying up and her sobs subsiding as shock took over and she remained kneeling by his side, his limp hand still clasped in her own. All around her was mayhem and chaos, Neverland reducing itself to nothing more than bare rock, barren of all life, it's magic destroyed with no hope of renewal. Two figures appeared, striding through the howling storm, untouched by the destruction around them. Wendy saw them approach but didn't react to their presence, her mind unable to think past the tragedy in front of her.

“So....Wendy Darling......arrived just in time for the Coup-de-gras,” Hook's dark voice washed over Wendy like a cold shower, snapping her out of her stupor and leaving her with a white hot anger pouring through her.

“He's dead Captain Hook, and beyond you reach.” She turned to fix the other figure with a baleful glare. “Satisfied Jack? You got what you wanted....the end of Neverland.”

“Don't blame me for this love. This is all your doing, not ours.” Jack and Hook exchanged a quick glance before turning their attention to the girl getting to her feet.

“What are you saying? I didn't cause these injuries, these wounds!” Wendy held out her hand, palm up to show the blood coating them. “You did this......you killed him.”

“Do you think we could have succeeded if you hadn't already struck the mortal blow?” Lifting one dark brow, Hook smirked at her, tormenting her so that she wanted to strike at him and wipe the leer from his lips.

“You left him Wendy......left him alone......all he wanted was your love, your adoration. But no, you had to whine about your family, your duty.......never a thought to his feelings, his longing to be loved.” Wendy heard the words dripping from Jack's tongue but couldn't bring herself to accept them.

“You're wrong.....I didn't.....I haven't left him.....”

“But you're thinking of just that, aren't you girly girl. You want to run away and leave all this behind you, leave him behind to rot in this infernal paradise, his own personal hell.”

“It's too late for all that..........he's already dead!”

“Ah, that's where you're wrong Wendy Darling.......it's never too late in Neverland. This is just one future path, as are the others.....this is not real, it is an illusion, a nightmare to end all nightmares.” Hook's eyes gleamed redly as he stared at her. Wendy stared at the pirate Captain and his cohort, the two men sporting smirking grins that seemed at odds with their intentions.

“But isn't this what you wanted? For Peter Pan to die and release you from the hold this place has one you both?” Wendy asked.

“To be sure, it was the plan. But really, when one considers the alternatives, what is there out there for the likes of us.” Hook waved his hands in a flourish, indicating the wreck and ruin all around them. “The world has forgotten James Hook, as surely as the world has forgotten about magic and wonder. Neverland is the final refuge for the unwanted, a bastion against the world's ills where magic is nurtured and love conquers all.”

Wendy looked at Hook askance, the pirates manner and speech at odds with his bloodthirsty demeanor. She felt confused and unsure, her grasp on reality spinning out of control.

“I can change all this....can't I.” She stated, refusing to look at the corpse still laying at her feet. “I can do something to stop this happening.” She flung her arms wide to indicate the total devastation surrounding them.

“Anything is possible, you just have to believe,” Jack told her. He took a step back away from Hook and the small tableau they formed. “Anything is possible.”

“Every girl has to face the inevitability of leaving her home and family at some stage. You cannot remain a child forever Wendy Darling. Here you have the opportunity to love and be loved in a way you could never hope to attain in the world you left behind.” Hook held out his good hand and closed the fingers over to make a fist. “Grasp it girl.....keep all this alive, keep the magic alive.....”

“Keep the magic alive...” Wendy repeated, watching as Hook stepped back and disappeared into a mist the same way Black Jack had done. Alone, she looked down to find that Peter's body had gone, leaving her standing in the middle of a barren rocky island without a single twig of vegetation or sign of life. “I will keep you alive....all of it.....I do believe.”

Sighing she closed her eyes, suddenly weary of the emotional upheavals, her mind made up, for once in accord with her heart.

When she opened her eyes she was back in the cavern, the remaining three doors that she'd left behind reduced to just one, the others absorbed by the rocky walls.

“Please let this be the one to lead me back to Neverland....I think I've had enough of dreams and nightmares.”

As if in answer to her plea, the door creaked open by itself, a warm glow beckoning her in. Taking her last walk along the paved path, Wendy pulled the door wide and stepped through without bothering to pause and read the motto inscribed on the lintel.

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Peter and Tinkerbell slowly approached a boisterous family group of females and youngsters, the wolves standing at bay as soon as they realized they were no longer alone. For a moment no one moved, Peter remaining where he'd landed, his feet apart and his knuckles on his hips, Tink hovering somewhere above his shoulder. Then one of the larger females slowly approached the young man, getting to within a foot of where he stood before lowering herself to the ground in a gesture of submission. Peter remained still as a statue, the other members of the pack coming forward to copy the lead female until he was surrounded on all sides by wolves laying on their bellies, their muzzles buried in the grass and bright eyes fixed on him. Even the puppies and youngsters were quiet, following the example of the elders and laying down before the human in front of them. Relaxing his rigid stance, Peter let his arms hand loose by his sides, a grin breaking out on his face as he indicated with a wave of his hand to the lead female.

“It's been a long time Lupa....still bossing the girls around, I see?”

At once the senior wolf leapt up from the ground and launched herself at Peter, the boy and wolf rolling on the ground in joyful reunion while the other wolves stood around with tongues lolling, watching the sport. After a playful few minutes, the large female jumped off Peter and yipped at him, Peter wiping his face and laughing.

“Yes, you got me good Lupa. It's been a while since I visited the meadow. Maybe you should show me your latest additions?”

Still sitting in the long grass, Peter waited while Lupa marshaled the other wolves and youngsters, parading them all before him, Lupa taking special care to show off the latest litter of tiny pups, dropping them in his lap to fondle and play with while she looked on protectively.

“They are beautiful Lupa.....almost as beautiful as their grandmother.”

Handing the puppies back to their anxious mother, Peter rose to his feet and set off across the meadow, the wolf Lupa loping easily at his side. Every now and then Peter would reach down and ruffle the wolf's fur behind it's large ears, the animal growling appreciatively when he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

“I've come to find someone Lupa....she came this way with a pirate.”

Lupa sat on her haunches and opened her jaws, her liquid eyes fixed on Peter.

“Ferru took her and the young man up the hill to the Cave of Dreams,” Lupa growled, the words just distinguishable.

“Ah.....Walbassa. Since when?”

“Last eventide. Ferru still up there, probably guarding the Lost Boy's that followed.”

Peter laughed. “Nothing sneaks past those sharp eyes, or keen noses.”

“Lost Boys could do with a bath sometime.” Lupa retorted, her muzzle stretching into a fair imitation of a human grin.

“I'll tell them you said that,” Peter replied. “I have to go now and catch up with Ferru.”

“Bring the lady with you next time you visit Peter......I think Diz would be happy to make your lady her pet.”

“Diz is all grown up? When did that happen? Sure I'll bring Wendy back......I'd like to see Diz again myself.”

“You were ever her favorite pet, Peter.”

“I remember. I have to go now....I'll send Ferru back to you when I see him.”

“Goodbye Peter.......good luck.”

With a final scratch behind the wolf's ears, Peter flew up into the air, Tink not far behind him. Together they left the meadow and headed up the hillside, weaving between the tree tops while keeping an eye on the rocky outcrop at the crown. Very quickly they reached the bald summit, the steep hillside spread out below them, dotted with several dark figures that resolved into the males of the wolf pack, a rising crescendo of greeting howls meeting him as he set down in their midst. Four tousled heads popped up out of the grass and cheered to see their leader arrive to save them.

“Peter.....you've come to rescue us!” Harry shouted, jumping up and down. Grub did the same, a grin as wide as his grubby face beaming at Peter in adoration and gratitude.

“They were never in danger,” Ferru growled when he padded over to greet Peter.

“I know.” Peter replied, offering his hand outstretched into which Ferru placed his paw. “And I thank you for your good care of them.”

Ferru slanted his head towards the outcrop further up the hillside. “Walbassa has been busy this night. No one has returned from the cave as yet.”

“Then I've come at the right time.” Turning to face his small troop of boys, Peter folded his arms over his chest. “ Your mission if done and I'm proud you braved so many dangers on my behalf. Ferru?” Peter turned to address the wolf. “Can you provide an escort to take the boys back a short route than they arrived. I'd like them to avoid having to go back through the Burnt Valley.”

“I will escort them myself.......”

“Oh no, send another. I promised Lupa I'd send you back directly.” Peter grinned at the wolf, the animal grinning back.

“Then I will do as you say.” A series of yips and barks sent the main pack on their way back down the hill, leaving two and Ferru to remain behind along with Peter and the Lost Boys.

“Sim and Pit will lead the Lost Boy's back to the Indian village,” Ferru growled, jerking his head to indicate for his two volunteers to start their task.

“Go with the wolves, I'll see you at the village before too long.”

“What about Wendy and that pirate she's with?” Harry asked, his expression anxious.

“Not for you to worry about nipper,” Peter replied affectionately, ruffling the younger boys mop of hair. “Tell the other's we'll be back soon. Now scoot!”

Peter and Ferru watched the small troop of boys and wolves make their way down the hill until they were out of sight. Peter turned his head to face up the slope to the towering cairn of rocks.

“Do you wish me to stay and wait?” Ferru asked, cocking his head to look up at Peter.

“No......we'll follow soon.”

Without further ado, the large black wolf sprang away and started down the hillside leaving Peter to start the short journey up the steep climb, Tinkerbell still hovering over his shoulder having remained quiet until that moment.

“I can't go in there Peter.....you know that, don't you?” The tiny fairy darted in front of Peter making him pause in his climb.

“I know Tink.....”

“I'll go then......don't let that Walbassa try any of his tricks on you,” Tink scolded before darting off, her brightness swallowed up by distance after only a few seconds. Peter continued up the slope, the looming rocky escarpment broken only by the dark mouth of a large cave directly in front of him.

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4/4/07

Chapter: Twelve - In The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time

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Peter approached the Cave of Dreams with a spring in his step, supremely confident that everything was going to turn out the way he both wanted and expected. But, as is so often proved by experience and circumstance, nothing ever works out entirely to plan.

The mouth of the cave yawned wide and dark despite the bright sunlight. Peter had to blink several times to accustom his eyes to the gloomy depths, the dusty floor criss-crossed with many footprints, none of them distinguishable as Wendy's. As he progressed beyond the reach of the sunlight, some of his confidence drained away, his cocky grin fading as he looked around. The sound of falling rock made him pause, his hand going to the knife at his belt, but it was only another slide of rocks joining those already mounding the floor in irregular heaps, testament to the age and infirmity of the rock above.

Halting his steps when he could no longer see up ahead, Peter chewed on his lip and frowned.

“Walbassa? Are you hiding from me?” His voice echoed back a multiple of times, with no reply forthcoming. “Walbassa? It's I – Peter Pan come to collect my Wendy.” He waited impatiently for the echoes to fade before trying again. “Walbassa, answer me!”

Again he heard the sound of falling rock, this time from up ahead in the darkness. “Who's there?” Peter called, his forehead furrowed as he tried to see beyond the shadows. “Stop hiding and come out into the light?” Drawing his sword, Peter tensed in readiness for a fight, his blade giving off a dull sheen in the half light. Nothing and nobody appeared to answer his challenge, the cave as lifeless as when he'd first entered.

“Dammit old man, what game are you playing.”

Unable to proceed without light, Peter withdrew back towards the wide opening, his sword held ready but his former confidence blown to the four winds. This was not going at all as he'd expected.

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Wendy stepped through the last portal, her feet touching down onto hot sand, her skin instantly prickling as bright sunshine heated her face and blinded her. Throwing up her hands to shield her eyes, she became aware of the dull roar of the sea not more than a few meters in front of her.

“Where on earth have you brought me this time? This isn't the cave or the hillside.”

Still shielding her eyes from the sun's glare, Wendy crossed the sand into the shade of a large palm tree, the sand cool underfoot and the sun no longer blinding her. Able to see, she searched the beach and ocean for any sign of life or an indication of where she was. She assumed she was still on the island of Neverland, but there was no way on knowing where along the extensive coastline she'd been dropped.

“Am I still dreaming? Or is this really Neverland – here and now, not in the past or the future.” She turned her head to look around, the stretch of sand leading off in both directions until it curved out of sight, no headland breaking the seemingly endless expanse of sand and sea. The ocean was a deeper shade of blue than the sky, the breakers gleaming impossibly white as they broke on a reef a hundred feet off the beach, the resulting waves lapping busily at the sand, shooshing and sighing with each ebb and flow. The beach itself was unblemished by footfall or rock, only the graceful lean of numerous coconut palms breaking up the fringe of the beach before leading into the interior and the jungle beyond. It was as if she was the only person in the entire world. In fact in both worlds, if she really wanted to be pedantic.

Reasoning that this was only another dream, Wendy sank down and sat on the cool sand, her arms resting on her knees as she stared out at the never ending pattern of the tidal flow. The occasional Gull drifted overhead, a white speck against an azure sky, their cries faint as they passed on their way to their feeding grounds. Off in the distance Wendy could see a multitude of different sea birds diving into the sea beyond the breakers, the water churned into a froth as the birds sought the fish swimming just below the surface. She watched as the shoal, chivvied and pursued by the birds, moved further along the coastline and into a deep water channel, escaping the birds who flew off to find more food out of sight of where she sat. After that, she only had the waves and the warm breeze for company, even the jungle, a scant fifty feet from where she sat, was silent for once. No parrots fought over nuts and berries, no exotic cries disturbed the murmur of the waves, the boom of the distant breakers lulling Wendy so that she curled up with her head pillowed on her arm and slept.

So complete was her slumber that she never saw the ship sail into view, or notice it anchor off her beach. She didn't see the boat lowered into the water, and didn't see it rowed through the breakers to beach itself near to where she lay. She certainly didn't notice the rough men who careful trod across the pristine sand on silent feet to stand within the shade of the palm tree and gaze down at her in wonder and surprise. It was maybe just as well that she slumbered through being picked up in brawny, tattooed arms and carried back to the boat, cradled against a massive chest as the boat rowed carefully back to the ship. Even the jolting of passing through the breakers didn't bestir her, the passage up the side of the ship not raising a twitch, nor the short journey to the Captain's cabin. There she was deposited as gently as a lamb onto the velvet covered bed within, without once fluttering an eyelid or expelling a single sigh.

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Hook gazed down at the girl and was so overcome he could only wave at his men to leave, his brain unable to formulate words to describe the good fortune laying so innocently within his cabin. It was his first close look at the woman-child that was thought to have the power to bring about the end of Peter Pan, and Neverland. Certainly Black Jack believed that was the case, although Hook had his doubts that anything so fragile and indefensible could possibly pose a threat. He felt his lips rise up in a smile while his fingers lifted a skein of her hair, the strands slipping through, across his skin like the softest swansdown. While he gazed down at her, Hook started to formulate a new plan, one that included keeping this fair child to grace his barren life, thus stealing her away from the Pan but not reducing Neverland to rack and ruin. Peter would be devastated to lose his plaything, the very thought giving Hook a delicious thrill. In time the puling brat would come to acknowledge that Hook had won without ever firing a shot, the girl his own instrument of revenge for the many fights, like the one most recent, Hook left defeated by a mere stripling, his men and plans in hopeless disarray.

Now this ripest of plums had been dropped in his lap, the Gods favoring James Hook for once in his miserable life.

The girl stirred and Hook withdrew his hand, not wanting to be caught mooning over the chit, his reputation likely to suffer if his men ever found out. He'd held the post of Captain for longer than most men lived, the crew unable or unwilling to challenge his right to be Captain, no serious contender in all the years of his tenure. Only Black Jack had carried the slightest whiff of ambition, the lad the most likely to challenge his mentor as any of the motley crew. But Jack wasn't aboard, the young pirate missing, his fate unknown but quite possibly having something to do with the girl turning up on the beach. How, he had no idea, only thanked his lucky stars that he'd decided to take an extended sail around the shores of the island to recoup his losses and allow the crew to mend from their recent encounter with Pan and the Indians.

Sitting himself in his chair, he slowly stroked his black mustache, the ends quite rigid with wax to keep them to a nice point, his closely cropped goatee also groomed to perfection. Only his long hair refused to be tamed, the glossy black ringlets cascading in profusion over his shoulders like a veritable periwig, the color unmarred by threads of silver despite the considerable period of time since James Hook last counted a birthday. To all outward appearances, Hook had stopped aging once his years had reached thirty, his body still trim and muscles strong despite the crippling loss of his right hand. Even now he could feel the phantom tendons flex and pull his missing fingers into a fist, the gleaming gold hook mocking him when he looked down to see the hand no longer there.

“Damn you Peter Pan...and damn that wretched beast for taking me hand!” As if sensing the disquiet of his elusive prey, the distant sound of a clock ticking could be heard over the creak and groan of the ship around him. What color was left in Hook's pale face drained away completely, his bowels turning to liquid as the sound came closer, a distant thump against the hull of the ship announcing the arrival of the crocodile in search of the one meal that got away. Leaping to his feet, Hook rushed to the latticed windows lining his cabin and checked that they were all latched and locked. Satisfied that the beast couldn't enter that way, Hook stumbled ashen faced to his cabin door, wrenching it open and making his way on deck, his men already running about the ship, some leaning over the side to better see what was stalking the Jolly Roger.

“Get this hulk under way you lazy good-for-nothings!” He climbed to the poop deck taking the stairs two at a time, his wine red coat tails flying behind him. “Smee, get us the bloody hell out of here...we can still outrun the creature!”

His crew scurried up into the rigging, while others manned the windlass, the anchor rising at a phenomenal speed, urged on by the bosun's ready application of the whip. Soon the ship was making headway, leaving the crocodile far behind, the doughty creature not giving up it's chase despite the unequal pace. Hook snapped his spyglass shut, the creature now no more than a speck in the waves. Satisfied that he was out of immediate danger, Hook gave instructions to the helm before returning to his cabin, ordering Smee to get a meal prepared within the hour. Quietly opening the door, he checked on his sleeping guest before shutting it behind him. Finding the cabin stuffy he unlatched the windows and flung them wide, a gust of sea air washing over him and causing him to breath deeply before turning back to the room. To his profound shock, the young lady was sitting up and looking with some bewilderment around his sumptuously appointed cabin. At length her gaze swiveled to where he stood with his back to the windows. She didn't look particularly alarmed, only mildly curious, her blue eyes wide and questioning.

“Are you the one they call Hook?”

In answer he raised his right arm, the gleam of the golden appendage answering her question. Seeing her mouth form a perfect oh of understanding, Hook smiled thinly and sauntered towards her.

“And you must be the one everyone is looking for,” he drawled, approaching the bed at a measured pace much like a panther stalking its prey. To her credit, the young woman didn't flinch or blush, instead just kept her remarkable eyes pinned on him, watching his every move. When he had crossed the floor and reached the harpsichord set in one corner, he turned his back on her and flipped out his coat tails before sitting down and lifting the cover protecting the keys. Wendy watched him, mesmerized by his graceful movements, his glossy black ringlets and overall sophistication in appearance. That his costume belonged to a previous century or more was certainly a curiosity, but its rich fabric and decoration didn't detract from Hook's presentation, the overall effect of a cultured man of the world giving Wendy quite a different impression than one she'd expected to make, of the dread pirate she'd heard so much about. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and sat there while Hook ran his good hand over the black and white keys in a small trill of sound. Her eyes wandered over the fixtures and fittings of the Captain's cabin and wondered how much reflected the man sitting before her, his fingers now coaxing a tune from the ancient instrument, even accommodating his disability by modifying the tune to allow him to use the metal hook in place of his missing fingers. She listened entranced as music filled the cabin, a dainty melody that almost brought a lump to her throat with its sweetness. When it finished she felt compelled to reward the performance, her hands applauding him so that he was perforce to rise and bow, extending a leg in the finest example of a courtly bow any girl could wish for.

“Thank you m'dear, it was but a trifling tune.”

“Oh no....it was lovely, and so.......”

“Unexpected?” Hook answered for her, his dark brow quirking in self mockery. “Even pirates need to pass the time in some fashion when they're not engaged in pillaging and piracy.”

“I suppose so. You are not at all as I was led to expect.”

“Should I be flattered?” Hook smiled, his teeth very white and predatory behind his black mustache “I would have to know what was being said of me, to accept your words as a compliment.”

Wendy felt heat steal into her cheeks, not used to such subtle banter, and certainly not at all equipped to cross verbal words with a pirate. “I think you know very well what every one says.”

“Good gad, are you saying I don't live up to my fierce reputation?” He laughed, blue eyes twinkling, “I can see I'll have to lop off a few heads to raise myself in your estimation!”

“Oh please......don't do that!” Wendy jumped to her feet, highly agitated that her foolish words would cause someone to die for them. “I only meant that......well......you don't exactly look the way I'd expected you to.”

“You mean, I assume, that you expected someone with a coarse appearance and even coarser behavior, as only one of that ilk could possibly be a pirate.”

“I....no.....you put words in my mouth. I'll say no more as you're surely twist them to suit. I think you mock me.”

“Forsooth, m'dear, I would never mock one who appreciates the finer arts and compliments me so prettily. But enough banter, you must be hungry and have a hundred questions. I hear my first mate approaching with a meal, and I'm sure you would like an opportunity to....er.....refresh yourself?”

“Please.” Looking down at her fingers, Wendy twisted them together, her thoughts confused as her host opened the cabin door and ushered in a short, rotund first mate bearing a huge silver tray covered in a variety of dishes. Behind Smee came more sailors carrying trays sporting an assortment of jugs, carafes and platters, all of which were laid the table dominating the center of the room. While his men laid the table, Hook ushered Wendy to an alcove set in one corner, the cleverly disguised screen revealing a tiny bathroom, complete with commode, fine porcelain jug and washing bowl, plus an assortment of toiletries laid out under an ornately framed gilt mirror. Fine towels hung beside the sink bench and a small stool completed the furnishings. Hook smiled benignly when Wendy looked up at him in some surprise.

“Again, not what you were expecting, I'm sure. Would you prefer if I gave you a wooden bucket and a rag?”

“You are teasing again.”

“Of course. I will see if I can find you something more suitable to wear,” he pinched the sleeve of her Indian dress, his lip curling, “ than this rag.”

As if suddenly aware of her state, Wendy felt her cheeks turn hot with embarrassment, the Indian dress certainly in need of a good wash. “Thank you.” Briefly she remembered the leaf outfit she'd worn, albeit briefly, the freedom it had afforded her, as well as the implications of wearing it. Hook merely smiled a small smile and turned on his heel. Wendy turned back and caught sight of herself in the small mirror. “Oh good Lord.” Hastily she poured water into the basin before scrubbing her hands thoroughly, then used a wash cloth on her face and neck. A sudden thought made her look down at her feet, her mouth twisting in a grimace when she noted their state. More water and the hurried application of the wash cloth worked wonders, the basin now full of a grubby slurry, but her toes once more pink and clean again. A bristly hairbrush was ruthlessly applied to her hair, the knots bringing tears to her eyes as she brushed them out.

“I have this for you to change into......Miss?”

“Darling.....Wendy Darling.” A dress appeared around the end of the partition and she took it, Hook remaining out of sight on the other side. Delicious smells were starting to waft from the table making Wendy's stomach growl in anticipation.

“When you are ready Miss Darling.” Somehow Hook managed to draw her last name out so that it sounded like an endearment, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine.

“I won't be long.” She waited until his footsteps had returned to the other side of the room before dropping the dress and lifting the Indian beaded tunic over her head. She quickly pulled the other dress over her head, hardly noticing it's color or design in her efforts to get dressed in haste. Shaking out the skirts she turned to regard herself in the mirror, turning and twisting to see as much of the dress as possible. It was blue, like forget-me-knots, with small puffed sleeves and a sash to pull it in at the waist. The garment was very much in the style of a jeune-fille with it's round neck and unadorned fabric, but she didn't mind. It was clean and fresh and felt soft against her skin. Inwardly wishing that she had a pair of slippers to match, Wendy drew in a large breath and stepped out from behind the screen, her fingers worrying at her hair while she waited for a comment from her host. Hook sat at the table facing her, his left hand paused in the process of lifting a strangely shaped wine glass to his mouth.

“An improvement, if you don't mind me saying m'dear.” His eyes roamed hotly over her figure, dwelling briefly on the budding curves highlighted by the simple style of the dress. “Now take a seat and see if I can tempt you with something here.”

Smee held out the chair for her as Wendy took the seat opposite the pirate Captain, the first mate sporting a pristine white apron over his salt stained clothes, another cloth thrown over his arm in the manner of a waiter. He bustled up to Wendy and offered a dusty bottle for her inspection, the label indistinguishable against the opaque brown glass.

“Muscat miss?” Smee inquired, his eyes darting back and forth between his Captain and their guest. “Or maybe rum?”

“Er.....no thank you, I don't drink spirits.”

Smee bustled off leaving Wendy to stare at her host over a table laden with all manner of dressed seafood, an enormous red lobster taking center place alongside a glass bowl overflowing with exotic fruit. Hook raised his glass again and Wendy saw that it was actually a large mother-of-pearl seashell chased with gold and set onto a glass stem. Hook noticed her interested stare and raised his eyebrows. He held the shell glass up.

“Part of a ships plunder off the Carribee,” he announced, his hook sweeping over the assembled plates and cutlery. “As is all this....one of the benefits of being a pirate.” He smiled in satisfaction and sipped his wine. Wendy stared with new eyes at the richly appointed table with its gold chased plates and cut glass servers. Swallowing, she raised her eyes to Hook.

“What happened to the owners of all........” she indicated the table with a sweep of her hand, “ this?”

“Had no further need of it, if I remember. Not a lot of call for cutlery and plate wear at the bottom of the ocean!” Amused at his little joke, Hook laughed out loud, his first mate grinning as well. Smee approached the table with a large brown box. Sidling up to Wendy he flipped the lid back to reveal a humidor full of fat cigars. Wendy stared back at the first mate in some dismay to be offered something so inappropriate.

“No thank you.”

Smee shrugged and snapped the lid shut, moving around the table to offer the same to Hook. This time the offer was accepted and Hook took two, laying the cigars beside his plate. “Can I not tempt you to something here?” Hook asked, pushing the plate of lobster to Wendy's side of the table. She couldn't deny that she was hungry and reached over to break off a lobster claw and place it on her plate. Smee was instantly at her side offering a pair of silver pliers to crack the hard shell and reveal the sweet meat inside. The meal proceeded in this stately fashion for nigh on an hour, Wendy sampling several of the dishes and pronouncing them very fine when asked by her host of her opinion.

“I don't get to entertain often, and certainly not a lady. We're just rough sailors and have little use for fine manners,” Hook waved his hand and indicated for Smee to start clearing away the debris of the meal. Wendy hadn't eaten a great deal, but her stomach no longer growled and the orange she was peeling with a small paring knife was plump and irresistible.

“I have to say, Captain Hook, that a meal of such splendor was not how I expected to be treated.”

“Clapped in irons and thrown in the hold?” Hook asked, his mouth crooked up in a half smile.

“Something like that,” Wendy murmured popping a segment of orange into her mouth.

“Now that would just be a waste, don'tcha agree?”

“As it would have been me in the irons, I certainly agree, but it begs the question of why you haven't done just that?”

“I can see that you are determined to get an answer out of me, m'dear.”

“I would know what you plan to do with me sir. If given a choice, I would like to be returned to Neverland.”

“Well there you have the rub. Choice is not a luxury I can allow, given the circumstances.” Hook leant forward, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze intent. Wendy carried on eating her orange, her throat tight and making swallowing difficult. There was nothing threatening about his manner, but she could see why Hook had the reputation he did. Using the finger bowl provided, Wendy rinsed her fingers and wiped them on the snowy napkin beside her plate. Unable to avoid it any longer, Wendy raised her eyes and met those of Hook, her gaze held and locked with his so that she wondered if this was what it felt like to be a mouse cornered by a Cobra.

“You won't return me to the island?” She asked in a whisper, her hands gripping the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white. “Then what do you plan to do with me?”

Hook held her gaze for a second longer then lowered his eyes, breaking the contact and concentrating on putting one of the cigars into a silver holder designed to hold two at a time. While his guest waited for his answer with bated breath, Hook leisurely finished his small ritual, the double silver cigar holder clipped to his hook after being held to a candle for lighting. A blue cloud of smoke blew from between Hook's lips, writhing its way up towards the ceiling where it hung like a thin storm cloud, roiling and twisting against the decking. Smee finished clearing the table, leaving behind a glass decanter and fresh glasses sitting on a silver tray before his Captain. The tension in the air was palpable, Wendy looking strained and tight lipped as she waited to hear her fate from the man opposite her. Tapping the ash from the end of his cigars, Hook narrowed his eyes and leant forward.

“Didst thou ever think of becoming a pirate, Wendy Darling?”

For a heartbeat, Wendy stared at Hook with her mouth hanging inelegantly open. “A pirate! Are you mad?”

“I don't think so. Is it so unreasonable a question? You have run away from home, after all. I don't think it illogical to suppose that you might want another life to take the place of the one you left behind.”

“I didn't run away......I .....” Wendy faltered.

“Didn't run away, you say,” Hook mused, “were you stolen then? Kidnapped from you bed at knife point?”

“No....not exactly,” she felt heat start to bloom in her cheeks.

“Ah, then you were enticed. Beguiled and bewitched by a pair of roguish eyes and a ready smile.” Hook sighed theatrically, “one would hardly believe it of you, m'dear. To be so taken in by such shallow attractions.”

“I wasn't....it wasn't like that.......Peter.......well....” She stuttered to a halt, unable to put in to words what her feelings were. Hook watched her expressive face with keen eyes, her every thought as plain to him as if writ large upon her features.

“You're in love with the flying brat.....good gad, and you so sensible and straight headed. You disappoint me.” He formed his lips into a small moue, tutting to himself and rolling his eyes, smoke wreathing his head when he exhaled. “You do realize he's quite incapable of returning that love?”

“What do you mean?” Wendy asked, her expression guarded. For a pirate, Hook was dangerously perceptive, her secrets known without her breathing a word.

“I mean, m'dear, that Peter Pan is quite deficient in that capacity. He is all flash and no substance. He'll take your love and trample it like so many daisies under his bare feet. He'll take your devotion and dash it against his cold heart and shallow affection. In a word, the Pan is a bounder and blackguard, a libertine who collects young girls hearts like butterflies pinned to a board, left to languish and die of neglect.”

Wendy stared at Hook quite aghast, her heart hammering. “I don't believe you. You're just saying this to turn me against him. It is you who is the scoundrel, you are the pirate, not Peter!”

“Such loyalty does you credit, m'dear,” Hook stubbed out his cigars and unclipped the fitting from his hook. “What would you say if I offered you a place on me crew?” He raised one eyebrow and gave her an arch look. “I might even be able to send you back home, if that's what you want?”

“Home? You could do that?”

“Anything is possible...” he threw his arms wide, “this is Neverland after all.”

Wendy nibbled on a nail, her thoughts chasing each other around in her head like rats on a wheel. “I would need time to think all this through, Captain Hook.”

“Of course.....I would expect nothing less, Miss Darling,” again he drawled her name like an endearment, the sound prickling up and down her arms and putting her on edge. “You may take all the time you need. You will be my guest and stay here, in me cabin. Smee will be on hand and take care of your comfort.” Hook rose to his feet, his smile firmly set in place, his first mate bobbing his head in agreement.

“For sure I will, Cap'n.” The portly first mate bobbed again and tugged at his forelock as Hook strolled past and pulled the cabin door open.

“I will await your answer with.....interest,” Hook flung over his shoulder at Wendy before stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind him. For a moment Smee and Wendy stared at each other, neither entirely sure what to do or say next. Smee cleared his throat several times while Wendy fiddled with the skirt of her dress nervously. Eventually the first mate dragged over one of the chairs near to the door and plonked himself down in it, folding his arms across his chest.

“If'n there's anything ya want, just let me know miss.” Satisfied that he'd discharged his duty, Smee promptly dropped his chin on his chest and closed his eyes. Wendy stayed where she was until the sound of soft snores reached her at the table. Getting up slowly she approached the cabin door, pausing when Smee snorted then settled back into his doze. She tried the door latch but found it didn't move. It was locked. Stepping away from the door she cast her eyes over the cabin, determined to find a way out. The windows offered a good opportunity so she hurried over to them, unlatching the first she came to and swinging it wide. Cool air rushed into the room and swept her hair away from her face. Leaning out she could see the wash of water rushing past below her, the drop to the sea enough to give her pause, as did the distance to the shore when she twisted to see past the hull of the ship. Even if she was a particularly strong swimmer, which she wasn't, the distance would be a challenge and like as not end up with her drowning before she got close to the shallows. Not willing to give up her life so cheaply, Wendy discarded the idea of jumping into the sea, instead choosing to sit on the plump cushions of the window seat and gaze out at the distant view of Neverland, so close and yet too far to help her. Hook had said a great deal and she felt like a storm tossed piece of flotsam, pulled in different directions by the current and wishing for nothing more than a peaceful harbor She wasn't entirely convinced that this wasn't just another elaborate dream and that any moment she would find herself back inside the cave. As the minutes passed and nothing changed except the cadence of the first mates snores, Wendy had to admit that her circumstances had less to do with a dream, and more to do with bad luck in being captured and held prisoner aboard the Jolly Roger. Hook had said a great many things that Wendy discounted, relying on her heart to tell her the truth, unable to accept that Peter didn't have deep and genuine feelings for her, despite their short acquaintance. Didn't she believe in love at first sight? Wasn't that belief why she clung to the old fairy tales and storybooks that reinforced the idea, and which she embraced whole heartedly? If she doubted Peter, did she also doubt her own reactions, her feelings towards him? She could hardly refute that she felt a great deal when Peter kissed her and held her close, so great indeed that she nearly succumbed and surrendered her all on the strength of that kiss alone. No, she knew that Hook was wrong about Peter and his feelings, and it was surely only a matter of time before her faith was rewarded with her rescue. Of course, Peter would have to know where she was, a problem when you consider that she'd been kidnapped by one pirate, immured in a cave, then somehow captured by another pirate and now languished in a cabin, hidden from everyone. Absorbed by her thoughts, Wendy didn't notice the glimmer of scales and the thrash of a tail appear and disappear in the water behind the ship, the mermaid choosing to keep out of sight of anyone on the top deck for fear of being shot at. Instead the creature swam effortlessly in the wake, the dark eyes noting the open window and the girl sitting inside the cabin. In her mind the mermaid congratulated herself on having something worthwhile to report when she returned to her sisters, a sudden burst of power lifting her body out of the water in an arc before she plunged under the frothing waves and did an abrupt turn, swimming powerfully in the opposite direction of the Jolly Roger.

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8/04/07

Chapter: Thirteen - Lost and Found

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Peter stood in the mouth of the cave, his expression thunderous. Not only was there no sign of Wendy, there was no sign of anyone, his voice hoarse from shouting for Walbassa. He turned around and glowered instead at the sun setting theatrically behind the volcano, affectionately known as Old Belcher, because it still sent up occasional puffs of smoke. Maybe the wolves were wrong and it wasn't Wendy who they took to the cave, maybe it was someone else. But that couldn't be right, he'd followed her tracks from beyond the village all the way here. If she wasn't in the cave of Dreams, where was she? Thoroughly annoyed, Peter scuffed at the ground, his brows drawn together in a heavy scowl. The sun was gone and the sky turning pink before any sign of movement came from behind him. The rattle of stone against stone snapped his head around, the hint of movement at the back of the cave enough to cause him to draw his sword. He squinted to see more in the shadows, but he had to wait until the person reached the entrance to the cave, the glow of the sunset painting the young man in muted color as he stepped out into the light.

“Jack!?” Peter barked, his temper starting to rise. “It was you that took Wendy?”

Black Jack blinked at Peter, his expression one of puzzlement and some surprise. “Peter? What are you doing here?” Jack walked forward but stopped abruptly with Peter's sword point at his throat.

“What trick is this?” Peter snarled.

“Trick? I don't know what you mean?” Jack held out his hands defensively, raising one finger to push away the blade but finding it immovable and unwavering. “I thought you'd agreed we'd go hunting tonight? Has that been changed?”

“Hunting? What are you talking about? Where's Wendy?” Peter pressed the point of his sword home, pinking Jack when he swallowed.

“Hey...Peter...Captain...I would love to be able to tell you, but I think there's some confusion here. I don't know any Wendy....is that a girls name? I just found myself at the back of this cave and a saw you standing at the entrance. I thought you were waiting for me.”

Peter passed a hand over his face, lowering the blade as it became apparent that Jack had no recollection of what he'd become. “You don't remember, do you?”

Jack had been as close to Peter as a brother, the two of them near in age and physical ability, only Peter's flying giving him the advantage. In looks they were like night and day, Peter fair while Jack was dark, both boys blessed with handsome faces and healthy physiques. When Peter tired of being Captain, Jack was his lieutenant, leading the pack of younger boys on adventures while Peter flew off to amuse himself elsewhere. There had never been a day of discord between them until the day Jack had returned from a hunt. No one knew what he'd seen or done that day, only that from that day onwards Jack changed. He became morose and brooding, no longer taking Peter's orders without an argument ensuing, the two boys coming to blows over the most trivial of matters. The Lost Boys could only watch and wonder, unsettled and unsure as their two leaders fought battle after battle. In the end it came down to the final confrontation, Jack challenging Peter to a duel to the death. Of course, no one took him entirely seriously. Battles were never to the death, only until someone landed a good facer, or caused the other one to bleed from a cut or bloodied nose. When Jack and Peter faced off everyone knew that this was potentially a lethal fight, both boys almost crackling with suppressed energy, their eyes flashing fire and they circled each other.

As battles go, it was short, bloody and without dissension as to who had won. Peter was victorious but it was a hollow victory, the loss of his best friend and blood brother a blow to his pride and his heart. Jack had taken his loss hard, spouting vile words that shocked those that heard them before taking himself off, vowing never to face his former friend except on the point of a blade, sworn enemies from that day forth.

Now that self same boy, grown to a young man, stood before him, similar in height and breadth, once more night to his day. To complicate matters Jack seemed to have lost his memory from the time before he changed.

“Damn,” Peter swore, slamming his sword back in its scabbard and turning his back on Jack.

“Remember what? And why am I dressed like a pirate, am I playing Hook again?” Jack held his arms out, looking down at his black on black outfit, his eye wide and without guile. Peter swung around to face him a rueful twist to his lips.

“You could say that. Your not pretending to be a pirate......you are a pirate. Blackhearted Jack to be precise, right hand man to Hook, turncoat and kidnapper and enemy to everyone on Neverland.”

Jack stared at Peter for a beat before bending over, convulsed with laughter. “Oh God, you had me going there for awhile....me...” he pointed to himself, his eyes dancing, “me...a pirate? That's a good one!”

Peter crossed his arms over his chest while his former friend continued to laugh, the sound echoing back from the cave behind them and sending birds flying out of the tree tops nearby.

“Seriously Peter....what are we doing here, and why am I dressed like this?”

“Seriously Jack...you're a pirate. You abducted my Wendy and I'm here to get her back.” Peter's perfectly serious tone and expression stopped Jack's laughter in its tracks.

“You really mean that, don't you?” He waited for Peter to nod in agreement. “What the hell happened to turn me to piracy?”

“Nobody knows. One day you were Jack.....the next...we don't know what happened. You came back from a hunt and were never the same again. Eventually we fought, you lost and you left to join Hook's crew. You've been a pirate ever since.”

Peter watched his friends face, every emotion clearly visible as Jack tried to wrestle with the notion that he'd been a pirate, was even considered by every one he knew to be one. Worse, it appeared he'd fought Peter and severed all ties with the Lost Boy's, his family.

“I don't know what to say,” Jack held his hands wide, bewilderment in his dark eyes. “I can't imagine what caused that all to happen. I would never.....hell Peter....I just wouldn't.” He stared at Peter, no hint of his former self in his expression, only a growing fear that all he'd known was now gone. Peter took pity on him and reached out to grasp his shoulder.

“I can't tell you what has happened, only that now you're not who you were....and I have my friend back.” For a long moment the two young men held each others gaze, Peter's clearing of their suspicion and anger, Jack's no longer so fearful.

Peter broke the spell by tilting his lips in a crooked smile.

“Damn shame you don't remember, you could have told me quite a bit about the pirates and Hook. That would have been useful, next time we ambush them.” Removing his hand, Peter held it out, Jack only hesitating a second before grasping it strongly in his own, shaking it up and down vigorously. “Welcome back Jack.”

Jack grinned, his features looking years younger with that simple act. “Well, from my point of view I never left.”

Peter raised a eyebrow and gave him a quizzical look. “No....I suppose you didn't. But now I'm left with what has happened to Wendy?”

“Who is this Wendy? You were never one to fuss much over girls.”

“Wendy is not an ordinary girl Jack......she's....” Peter paused, his eyes giving far more away to his friend than he realized “You'll understand when you meet her. Wendy is everything I could ever want.......and more.”

“Damn ya eyes....I never would have believed it.” Jack clapped him on the shoulder, a wicked grin splitting his face. “Don't tell me you've been bitten by the bug?”

“Bug?” Peter asked.

“Love, you great oaf. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were in love with the girl!”

“Actually.....yes,” Peter smiled self consciously, “I guess I am. She's the first and only girl I've wanted to stay here, in Neverland, forever with me.”

“And she's agreed to this?” Jack asked, falling in to step with Peter as they started down the hillside.

“I was sure she'd come around....but then you kidnapped her and I had to go on a rescue mission, and I haven't had a chance to ask her again.”

“Rescue mission?”

“Hook had snatched Tiger Lily and taken her to Skull Rock......I realize now it was just a diversion to keep me out of the way while he sent his men to take my Wendy. But then you stepped in and took off with her, stealing her away from Hook.”

“I did?” Jack shrugged and looked sheepish. “Sorry, I don't remember any of that.....I don't even know what this Wendy looks like.....is she pretty?”

“Blue eyes the color of the sea, golden brown hair so long you want to wrap it around yourself......skin so soft....” Peter's voice tailed off, his eyes unfocused as he cataloged Wendy's charms. Jack just shook his head and chuckled at his Captain's obvious preoccupation.

“Boy, you have it bad. Never thought I'd live to see the day Peter Pan gave all this up for a girl.”

“Wendy is more than just a girl.......she's the only girl, there'll never be another.”

“So where is this paragon?”

“According to the wolves, they led you both to the Cave of Dreams...but so far, only you've come out, and Walbassa is avoiding me.”

“Maybe she's still in there,” Jack made to turn back but Peter snagged his arm and pulled him forward.

“No......don't ask me how I know, but I just do. She's not there any more. If she was, Walbassa would have come out and played his mind games on me. He can't resist testing out his riddles and having fun at my expense.”

“So, if she's not here.....where is she?”

Peter shot Jack a look, his eyes unable to hide the worry eating away at him. “That is what I have to find out. Here, turn around.” Peter put his hand into the pouch at his belt and pulled out a handful of fairy dust, throwing it over his dark haired companion who sneezed when he breathed it in by mistake. “Now....think happy thoughts and we'll return to the Indian camp and make our plans from there.”

“Will the others accept that I'm no longer a pirate, as easily as you have Peter?”

“No. But you'll be with me, so they'll likely pause before they attempt to gut you. That should give me enough time to explain matters and keep your scalp for you.”

Jack ran both hands over his head of long, black hair. “I'd really rather keep this, if it's all the same.”

“Just stay behind me and keep that mouth shut. I don't need you adding one of your idiot remarks to what will be a difficult situation.”

“Mum's the word Peter.” Jack pantomimed sewing his lips together but spoiling the effect by grinning when he realized his feet were no longer on the ground. “Hey, that wasn't so hard. I'm flying!”

“Floating more like. Do you remember how to fly?” Peter asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he floated upwards. Jack grinned wider and cocked an impudent eyebrow at his friend.

“Race you to the village, slow poke. Last one there is a rotten cod fish!”

With a whoop and holla the two boys were off, Jack almost invisible against the darkening sky, only the faint trail of spent fairy dust marking their passage away from the Cave of Dreams and towards the Indian village.

On the hillside below the cave, a dark shadow moved and slunk off down the slope, the creatures dark eyes gleaming in the faint light, it's black fur a perfect camouflage among the shadows. As he trotted home, the wolf grinned to himself and thought of how Ferru would react once he learnt what had taken place just now. It would seem that the leader of the wolves had sadly miscalculated the outcome of his latest plot against Peter Pan. Not only had Walbassa gone back on his word and not killed the boy, Jack ,when he had the chance, but also the girl had somehow been put beyond everyone's reach, including Peter's. Now Peter had his friend and ally back and would be stronger than ever once he'd convinced the Indian's that Jack was to be trusted again, further eroding what Ferru had expected to happen. Now a new plan would have to be hatched, and Ferru was not going to take the news well.

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17/4/07

Chapter: Fourteen – Sleeping with the Enemy

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Authors note: despite what happens in this chapter, this is not and never will be a Hook/Wendy romance.

So don't bother flaming me for what goes on. There's a point and purpose in all this, I promise.

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Wendy watched the last of the glorious sunset fade, the water glittering strangely in the half light of the dusk. The ocean was flat calm, the occasional swell heaving the ship gently up and down as she lay at anchor off the coast of Neverland, her sails furled for the night. Getting to her feet, Wendy turned from the window and paced the cabin, her fingers trailing over the richly appointed furniture with it's velvet coverings and intricate carvings. Ornately decorated lanterns swung lazily overhead, their candles not yet alight, the cabin shadowed and gloomy now that the sun had gone for the day and night loomed. It had been a strange day for Wendy, her shock at finding herself laying on a comfortable bed when she distinctly remembered falling asleep on a sandy beach under a palm tree. If that wasn't bad enough, she found she was now captive of the dread pirate Hook, who's very name was a byword for cruelty and foul deeds, if what she'd been told was to be believed. Instead she found a man of a similar age to her father, even in looks James Hook bore a remarkable resemblance to George Darling, his hair the same Raven black, although Wendy had to smile to herself when she imagined her upright and reserved father dressed in pirate clothes and smoking a cigar. Her father was always a picture of immaculate suiting, neat as a pin, his hair smoothed back so that no wayward curl could escape. To picture him aboard the Jolly Roger was to bring on a fit of the giggles. Temporarily amused, Wendy circled the cabin, bringing her at last to a writing desk, prettily inlaid with mother-of-pearl and ivory. Not really expecting to find anything, she lit a candle then pulled open one of the drawers beneath the desk surface, the small ivory carved knob yielding easily. Inside were a number of vellum covered books stacked neatly within the confines of the drawer. Wendy lifted one out and flipped it open, the pages densely packed with a flowing black script, an occasional illustration breaking up the words. It appeared to be a daily journal, a reference written at the start of each entry, but only the date and date, no year or month given to pinpoint their age or how recent. Puzzled at such an enigmatic way of keeping information, Wendy flipped the pages until an illustration leapt off the page at her. It was an ink drawing or the Cave of dreams. She recognized the rock formation and the gaping entrance. Beside the drawing was a small, thumbnail map of it's location. Intrigued, Wendy started to read the entry associated with the image.

'Wednesday 25^th

In our never ending hunt to find Peter Pan and his illusive hideout, we climbed a peak that led us to this cave. It appeared to be of natural origins so we entered to explore. Inside the walls were covered in drawings depicting people dancing and cavorting, the images so bright and accurately rendered they appeared to move by their own accord. My men were uneasy and several stayed outside on guard. Myself and two others ventured in, almost immediately encountering a creature that looks very much like Chief Talagumpa, although that said it was clearly not him. He called himself Walbassa and invited us to explore further. I felt a great rushing in my head as if a wind was trapped in my skull. When I came too I was alone, my two men gone and with them the old Indian man. When I staggered outside the others said I had only been gone a few seconds, but it seemed like hours, even days to me. I didn't wait to see if the men were returned or if Walbassa would appear again, but returned in haste to our camp below, thence back to the ship. There is much trickery in Neverland, and not all of it benign or to ones benefit. I will steer clear of that cave and warn my men to do so.'

Wendy looked again at the drawing of the Cave of Dreams and felt a shudder go through her. Turning the page she found a postscript.

'Today we learnt the fate of the two crewman that were lost in the cave we visited so many months ago. It appears they were reborn as Lost Boys, damn this infernal place. Cribs and Turner had been good crewman, now they are working for the enemy. We wouldn't have recognized them if not for Cribs very distinctive hair and Turner's odd colored eyes when we engaged Pan and his motley boys in an ambush. Neither former pirate seemed to recognize his shipmates and yelled as blood-bloodcurdling as their rag-tag fellows when they sprang out of the undergrowth. The infernal brat had the cheek to strip me of my hat for the third time and strut along the path, goading me and my men. I called the two boys, my former crew, by name but they only jeered at me and made rude gestures, reminiscent of their past lives more than their current. It would seem that the cave at the top of the ridge, and that trickster Walbassa are to be avoided at all costs or suffer the same fate as Cribs and Turner.'

“Do my scribblings amuse you?” A deep voice asked. Wendy jumped and shut the journal with a snap. Hook stood a few paces away, his head tilted to one side, a dark eyebrow raised in inquiry.

“Oh....ah....I didn't mean to be nosy. I....er...I was bored and found these...your journals.”

“And what think you of them?”

“They make for interesting reading,” Wendy replied, placing the journal back in the drawer and closing it quickly. “I was just reading about your encounter with Walbassa and the Cave of Dreams.”

“What do you know about that?” Hook asked sharply, pushing Wendy to the side and producing a key from his pocket with which he locked the drawer, preventing further investigation.

“I know that the paintings come alive on the walls, that they lead you further into the cave.”

“How is it you came to be there, Wendy Darling?”

“I don't....recall.”

“Oh I think you do.......a great deal more than you've related so far. My men found you on a beach, curled up like a kitten in the sand. So asleep that you didn't stir when my men transported you here, to me. But where, and this is the question, did you come from before that? My men traced what tracks they could find, and they said that it would seem you appeared on that beach without setting foot out of the jungle or the sea.”

“Maybe I flew,” Wendy offered, her eyes darting around the shadowed cabin as if looking for an escape. Hook noted her unease and smiled to himself.

“Oh, I don't think so. I think you were in Walbassa's clutches and he decided to have some fun and put you in the way of me. Now what, do you think, he intended by that?”

“I really have no idea,” Wendy edged her way around the desk to put it between her and Captain Hook. Unlike her father, this man exuded menace with every twitch of his waxed mustache. It both terrified and thrilled her, the pirates' flashing pale blue eyes almost mesmerizing her with their intensity.

“I begin to wonder what part you have to play in our little games,” Hook mused. “I thought you were a means for us to leave this cursed island, but I find that has less and less appeal, the longer I know you.” Grinning wickedly, Hook moved with the speed of a snake and snagged Wendy's wrist, pulling the reluctant girl hard up against his body. “I wonder if having you dropped into my lap, so to speak, wasn't a cunning plot to lure the Pan to his doom at last.” Hook held the girl effortlessly as she struggled, his hook coming up and tangling in her hair, stilling her movement and causing tears of pain to spring to her eyes as he pulled on her scalp. “Me thinks that all this is just part of a larger plot that I'm not privy too. There are forces at play here that seem to think that Hook can be used as a cats paw, with you as the Judas goat to lure the prey, then me taking the blame.”

Held as she was against Hook's chest, Wendy could only grit her teeth and will the tears away, the pull on her scalp tilting her head back so that she looked up at him with wide eyes, her lips pulled back from her teeth in a grimace.

Hook stared down at her, his eyes taking on a glint of red. The girl truly feared him at last, the feeling giving him a heady rush. She was his to do with as he pleased, helpless and friendless, her fate in his hands. “Am I living up to your expectations now, Wendy Darling?”

“Entirely,” Wendy managed to say, before she closed her eyes to blot out the features so close to her own.

“Look at me,” Hook growled, his eyes now glowing like twin flames, “I don't want you to pretend to yourself that it is Peter, not me.....” He yanked her head back, stretching her neck and making her gasp, her eyes opening a second before he struck, his mouth closing over hers in a kiss that contained no sentiment or affection, only subjugation and a ruthless demand for compliance. It was so far removed from the sweetness she'd shared with Peter that for a moment she remained too stunned to react, Hook's teeth clashing against her own as his lips ground hers into submission. Then anger rushed in and she started to fight, her free hand finding his rich, dark hair and yanking it repeatedly, her bare feet kicking at his legs before stamping down as hard as she could on his booted instep. For Wendy the kiss seemed interminable, her chest straining for air before Hook released her, the red gleam fading from his eyes as he panted, his hot breath bathing her face which was now scarlet with mortification.

“I could never imagine that was anything other than the unwanted attentions of a pirate!” Wendy spat, turning her face to the side when Hook leaned forward again. His lips found her cheek, resting there like a hot brand.

“Me thinks you are more of a pirate than you'd like anyone to know, Miss Darling. Should we put it to the test?”

“No!” In a desperate bid for freedom, Wendy wriggled out of his grasp, tripping on her skirts to sprawl panting at his feet. “Don't touch me!”

As if tired of the game, Hook sauntered over to his chair and sat down, one leg hooked over the arm as he stared at his captive, a leer playing about his mouth.

“Such melodrama over a simple kiss. You'd do well on the stage, m'dear.”

“You're a brute......and a cad!” Wendy sobbed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, repeatedly.

“I'm a pirate and a man. You'd do well to remember both.”

“You are everything Peter said you were.”

“I grow bored with your childish histrionics. Be silent, or be gagged...the choice is yours.” Smothering a yawn behind his hand, Hook got languidly to his feet, ignoring the girl still crouched on the floor. He walked over to the cabin door and called for Smee to attend him. When the portly man arrived he was directed to light the lamps and prepare the evening meal, Hook sending him on his way with a boot against his backside as further incentive. Wendy had risen to her feet and now stood as far from Hook as she could get. Her lips still tingled from their contact with his hard mouth, and her heart still pattered like a bird caught in a cage. Hook's kiss had truly frightened her in a way that Peter's had never done. With him, she felt cherished and loved and desired, all heady emotions but none of them threatening. Hook made her feel scared, both of the power he seemed to wield over her, and her own reaction to that power. For all her tender years, she was not unaware that men like Hook existed in her world as well. Rakes and libertines were as much a threat to a young girl of good quality, as ever a highwayman or footpad. Dangerously attractive men had a way of seducing and overpowering the senses, leading to the downfall and ruin of debutante's and married women alike. Hook was one of that ilk, an attractive man with power and the knowledge of how to use it. How else had he managed to remain Captain for so long? Oh no, she knew what he was, and she knew the danger now to herself. Combine a rake with a pirate and you had a man with no scruples about age or innocence. He would take what he wanted, and God help his victim. Now that she knew what manner of man she was dealing with, Wendy felt a measure of calm steal over her. For whatever reason, Peter didn't know where she was, or who she was with. That meant she would have to either rescue herself, or give Peter the time he needed to find her and rescue her. Either way, she would have to keep Captain Hook at bay for as long as possible. His kiss had not been romantic, hardly even pleasurable, so she supposed it had been merely a means to show her his power over her. He had succeeded, and in doing so firmed her resolve to stay not one minute longer than she had to aboard the pirate ship. Escape was her only clear course. Smoothing back her disordered hair, Wendy shook out her skirts and made her way to the window seat. The light from the lanterns barely reaching where she sat, her very stillness making her all but invisible. Hook appeared engrossed in reading charts, the rolled parchments strewn over the big table and on the floor, their owner using his hook to follow the lines and markings detailed on their surface.

Smee returned bearing a tray and one other sailor to help, the meal obviously not as lavish as the one set before Wendy earlier in the day. For that she was thankful, her nerves too tightly wound to allow her much more than the most basic interest in eating. Hook also seemed to have little appetite, waving his manservant's away and only taking the smallest portion of fish pie onto his dish, still absorbed by the charts spread before him. Only once did he look up, his head turning as he sought her in the shadows.

“Come and eat,” he ordered, frowning at her where she sat. “Don't sit there sulking.”

“I'm not sulking,” Wendy retorted, walking slowly over to the table and taking a share of the meal. “I was just thinking.”

Hook snorted. “Plotting to escape more like......or have you thought more about my offer to become a pirate?”

“Neither....my thoughts are my own.”

Taking her plate, she returned to the window seat and ate in silence. Hook returned to his charts, ignoring her in his turn. An hour slipped by before Smee returned to collect the dinner things.

“May I go on deck for some fresh air?” Wendy asked, Smee jumping at the apparently disembodied voice coming from the back of the cabin. Hook turned his head and watched her progress across the deck to where he sat.

“Why should I allow it?”

“Because I ask it....and because I am no good to you sick for lack of exercise and fresh air.”

“Me thinks you are up to something, but we are too far away for your flying lover to find,” Hook pushed himself out of his chair. “A walk will do me good as well....after you, m'dear.” He waved her forward, Smee hurriedly holding the cabin door wide for the captive and his Captain to pass through. They passed through another door and then they were on the deck, Wendy pausing to draw in a deep breath of cool night air. A step behind, Hook watched his prisoner closely, seeing nothing untoward in her manner or behavior, all of which made him mistrust her even more. Wendy allowed him to hand her down the short stairs to the main deck, crewman busy about their business giving their Captain a wide berth as they passed. The night was clear and a billion stars shone down on the sea, making it sparkle. The dark bulk of Neverland lay off to leeward, the tall spire of the volcano outlined by stars so densely packed they appeared like a crown over the summit. For several minutes Wendy and her companion strolled around the perimeter of the main deck, Hook a step behind her, his eyes checking the skies and sea for any hint of a rescue attempt. Despite his assertion that they were too far away from anyone to be noticed, it was impossible to exist in Neverland without someone, or something noting your passing. It was quite probable that the mermaids were already privy to where the Jolly Roger was anchored, and could even know about Hook's prisoner. It only needed for Peter Pan to quiz one of the watery brethren to know where his Wendy was being held. For that reason, Hook had doubled the night watch and made the shifts shorter than normal to keep everyone awake and alert.

Wendy had stopped and was leaning on the railing, looking over the side of the ship to the sea lapping below.

“You'd drown before you'd gone fifty yards,” Hook observed.

“Thank you for that salient reminder,” Wendy retorted, “I have no ambitions to drown myself.”

“I suppose you think that Peter will fly down out of the sky and scoop you up,” Hook sneered, making swooping motions with his good hand. “I should warn you, I am prepared for just such an eventuality.”

“Again, you suppose wrongly. I hope Peter doesn't come for me, I hope he stays well away.”

“What?! You don't want to be rescued?”

“Not is it puts Peter, or any of the Lost Boys or Indians within your reach.” Wendy kept her face turned away. “I don't want my rescue to be the end of someone else's life.”

“How very noble of you,” Hook spat, “you and that puling whelp make a good pair!”

“That's the nicest thing you've said to me so far, Captain Hook.”

“What?! No...I didn't mean it as a compliment.”

“Oh I'm sure you didn't, but it was. You see, before you picked me up, I was still undecided as to whether I would stay here, in Neverland, with Peter. You said in your journal that Walbassa was a trickster, and I think he was doing just that in the Cave of Dreams.”

Intrigued despite himself, Hook leant of the rail so that he could see the girls profile. “How?”

“He showed me a series of different dreams...well, nightmares really. Of choices I could make, of futures that could happen, or might happen, I couldn't figure that out. Anyway....what it comes down to is this, I have a choice....I can stay here, in Neverland, and be or do whatever my destiny expects.”

“Or?” Hook prompted.

“Or go back to my world and forget everything I've seen and experienced. Go back to my family, to a marriage to some earnest and eligible young man and spend my life wondering what could have been.”

Wendy paused, closing her eyes while a smile played around her lips, her hair blown back by the strengthening wind.

“Or I could keep you my prisoner and never let you go anywhere,” Hook hissed, unaccountably incensed by her seemingly calm exterior.

“You can try.”

Thoroughly enraged by her misplaced confidence, Hook grabbed her by the arm and hauled her across the deck, the crew scattering before him. Slamming the door of his cabin open, Hook surprised Smee taking a swig from a grog bottle.

“GET OUT!”

Smee dropped the bottle, which rolled across the floor, before running for his life past his Captain and out the door. Hook booted it closed behind him before hauling Wendy across the cabin and throwing her on the floor beside the bed. While Wendy sat there rubbing her bruised arm, Hook produced a set of shackles from under the bed, the chain secured to a ring set into the wall. Pushing up Wendy's skirts, Hook snapped one metal cuff about her ankle, Wendy beating at him with her fists until he caught one and placed it in another shackle, leaving one of her hands and feet free from constraint. Then he stood back and watched as she tried to push the metal off her wrist, tears of frustration making her eyes bright in the lamp light.

“You devil.....get these off me!”

“Ah no, fair Wendy, I think I'll keep those bracelets right and tight for the time being. I'd hate to think of you wandering around the ship when I'm asleep, putting yourself in danger from my rough and ready crew. They would have little pity for your age or your sex if they got their hands on you, that I can assure you.”

“You are no better.....just as much a pirate as any of them.”

“Never doubt it m'dear. A pirate through and through.” Hook jeered, laughing at Wendy when she scowled ferociously up at him. “I've a mind to put those lips to good use again.....” He saw fear leap into her eyes, her shoulders hitting the hard planking of the wall as she scooted backwards. Sheer exhilaration filled him, a fierce joy that he could evoke such terror in a living creature. Deciding to put words into action, he reached down and hauled her once more to her feet, the chains about her wrist and ankles chinking as they clashed together. This time he pushed her up against the wall before lowering his face to hers. Again he used his hook to ensnare her long hair and arch her neck, exposing the tender skin to his assault and her mouth for his pleasure. This time he didn't ravage and plunder, instead engulfing her lips in a kiss employing all his wicked wiles so that Wendy, expecting pain and degradation, found herself almost swooning as the kiss went on and on. Hook employed every strategy he knew to evoke a response from his most unwilling partner. In the end the need to breath pushed them apart, Wendy gulping in sweet air, her eyes wide and bewildered as Hook stepped back from her, his fingers coming up to smooth his mustache while he smiled triumphantly down at her.

“Why did you do that?” Wendy asked, her body trembling in reaction. “What point was there to make?”

“Why only that you are merely a silly girl who thinks herself in love with a callow youth. I thought you should know what it's like to be kissed by a real man.”

Wendy felt close to tears, upset by her own reaction, thoroughly cross with herself for reacting at all.

“You are a horrid, horrid man, and I hope Peter guts you.”

Hook only laughed, turning his back on her and returning to the table to find something to drink. Wendy watched him but soon tired of this, sinking to the floor and folding her legs under her skirt, weary beyond belief. Hook carried on about his business as if she didn't exist, Wendy finding that the events of the day were catching up with her and making her eyes droop shut in tiredness. Eventually she couldn't stay awake. Snagging a pillow off the bed, she curled up on the floor and tried to sleep, the manacles on her wrist and ankle making it difficult to find a comfortable position. In the end exhaustion won out and she slept. Hook, checking up on her later, found her with one hand pillowing her cheek like a child, the other sitting anchored to the floor by the weight of the iron cuff holding her prisoner. Without examining his motives too closely, he pulled the coverlet off the bed and draped it over her. After securing the windows and checking the door, Hook snuffed the lanterns, leaving only one candle burning beside the bed. Not bothering to get undressed, he lay down on his bed and closed his eyes, his good arm flung over his face to shut out the candlelight. On the floor beside him he could hear Wendy's soft breathing, the sound as unsettling as it was comforting. It was going to be a long time before he slept.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

18/4/07

Chapter: Fifteen – Getting Back on Track

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It was fully dark when Peter landed on the outskirts of the Indian village. Jack landed less gainly than his friend, tumbling head over heels before finding his feet. Peter laughed, Jack joining in as he dusted himself off.

“I guess I'm out of practice Never was as good as you Peter.”

“Only because you wouldn't take your feet off the ground,” Peter joked. Then his expression turned more serious. “Look, the Indian's will think you're still a pirate. Stay here and let me explain before you follow. Don't want you losing your scalp for want of an explanation.”

Jack smoothed a hand over his hair and swallowed. “You will be able to convince them, won'tcha?”

“Don't worry...I'd rather have you as my friend than my enemy any day. Just stay here until I whistle.”

“Sure.....wait for the whistle. Got it.” Jack folded his arms and leant against a tree. “Just don't forget I'm out 'ere, will ya?

My stomach thinks my throats cut.”

“Been awhile since you've had a meal?”

“A hundred years at least. Have you ever sampled Smee's cooking?”

Peter shook his head, grinning at his friend. “That bad, huh?”

“Do you think you could persuade Lily to throw a feast for my return. The prodigal son, and all that?”

“I think that might be pushing it Jack. Remember, they'll still be recovering from having the Princess snatched by Hook, plus the loss of several braves in the attempt.”

“Damn.....I didn't realize Maybe this isn't a good idea. Maybe I should just take off in the jungle for a few days, lay low.”

“And what if a scout part finds you? They'll skin you alive without blinking, and ask questions later.”

“You just had to mention that, didn'tcha? Alright, I'll wait here...just don't take forever with that damn whistle.”

“Hang tight Jack......won't be long.” Leaving his friend propping up the tree, Peter jogged towards the village, guided by the light from several small fires outside the lodges. The Indian's would be preparing their evening meal, gathered around their tepee's in family groups. Skirting the perimeter of the village, Peter waved to the braves on guard and continued on towards Chief Talagumpa big tent. He hoped to find Tiger Lily there as well. She had once shown some interest in Jack, before he turned pirate, and Peter hoped that affection still lingered. It was going to be hard enough convincing the Chief that Jack was no longer the enemy, let alone Tiger Lily. He approached the tepee in full view, the light from several fires playing over his face and form as he walked boldly forward, the Chief's bodyguards recognizing him and pulling back the tent flap to allow him entry. The inside was illuminated by the central fire pit and several oil lamps. The Chief and his daughter sat on a pile of soft furs, while the other important men of the village ranged around the fire on either side. Tiger Lily acknowledged him first, her eyes lighting up and then looking beyond him, obviously expecting someone to follow him in. A sharp pang smote his chest at the reminder that Wendy was not yet safe. Bowing to the assembled company, Peter waited for the Chief to allow him to speak. Finishing his mouthful, Talagumpa wiped his hands on a cloth before raising one to indicate for Peter to sit.

“We are pleased to see the Pan returned to us unharmed. But you do not have your Wendy with you?”

“No. She was not where I expected her to be, and I return empty handed. I intend to seek information from the Mermaids and Fairies as to her whereabouts. It would seem that Walbassa it up to his usual tricks and stirring up mischief.”

“Ah Walbassa.....you did not see my brother then?”

“No, he wouldn't come out of the cave. I can only hope his trickery hasn't harmed Wendy, or he'll answer to me.”

“As is your right Pan. Of course, if you asked it of me, I could summon him here to answer for his meddling.”

“That could certainly shorten the time spent finding out what's become of my Wendy. But before that, I have someone....something to tell you. Walbassa's influence wasn't only directed at Wendy, there was someone else in the cave with her.”

“Who Peter?” Tiger Lily asked, popping a piece of fruit into her mouth.

“Jack.” Peter stated baldly. Instantly Lily started to choke, her father thumping her hard on the back to dislodge the fruit that had become stuck. After much coughing and with eyes watering Tiger Lily glared bright eyed at Peter.

“You are telling us that Black Hearted Jack was the one that stole Wendy away and led her into the cave of dreams?”

“Well....yes, he did steal her away....but not to take to the Cave, that was Ferru's doing. The wolves found them and took them to Walbassa. I suppose they thought he'd know what to do with them.” Peter frowned, as he considered what he'd just said. Tiger Lily was on her feet, her eyes flashing and tear free.

“Why did the wolves not just return them to us?” Chief Talagumpa asked, echoing Peter unsettled thoughts. Tiger Lily didn't wait for an answer but drew her knife, slashing the air with it.

“You have him here....nearby somewhere don't you?” She bared her teeth at Peter, “I want to cut out his heart and wear his scalp at my belt!”

“Yes....that's why I didn't bring him here right away, I had a feeling you might want to do that,” Peter replied ruefully, glad he'd left Jack where he had. “It's no good blaming Jack for what he's done as a pirate....he doesn't remember any of that.”

One of the Chiefs' advisers, Running Dear, who'd remained silent up to this point, spoke up. “You say he remembers nothing? How can this be? Is he a pirate, or isn't he?”

“That's the problem.....I appears that Walbassa has wiped everything prior to when Jack changed. He thought I was meeting him outside the cave to go hunting.”

“I don't believe him, it's a trick to gain your trust, then when your back is turned he'll knife you!”

“I thought that at first Princess, believe me. But....and I can't say why, but I know he's telling the truth. See him, talk to him, you'll understand what I mean....”

“He's here!” Tiger Lily cried out, her knife flashing in the fire light. “You brought him here, to our homes, among our people. After all he's done, even to you and yours you still want us to believe you trust him? Did Walbassa trick you too?”

Running Deer and the other Indian's were sagely nodding their heads in agreement with the Princess. Only Talagumpa remained unconvinced, seeing in Peter's face the truth. He raised his hand for silence and rose to his feet. “If Peter Pan says that this former pirate is once more his friend, we are willing to abide by his word.” The Chief folded his arms across his chest, negating any discussion from his fellow elders, or his enraged daughter. “Bring him here, so we may judge for ourselves. We grant him safe passage and entry to our presence.”

Peter bowed. “Thank you Chief....I'll bring him right away.”

Outside Peter found himself mobbed by the Lost Boy's he'd left behind after the rescue at Skull Rock. Crate, Top hat and Rat all wanted to speak first, their voices shouting each other down as Peter tried to extricate himself and explain what was happening at the same time.

“Shut up, all of you.....stay here.”

“Wot! You're not off again already, you just got 'ere!” Crate exclaimed, grabbing hold of Peter's arm to detain him. The others did the same so that Peter couldn't move until they all let go.

“Yes...what's up Peter?” Rat piped up, “did you find the Wendy lady? Are Squid and the others coming soon?”

Peter shook them off like so many mosquitoes, “No I'm not going anywhere just yet. No I didn't find Wendy and yes, the others will be back soon....but you must let me go, there's something – someone important I have to fetch.”

“We'll come with you – won't we boys?” Crate replied emphatically, the other's looking just as determined not to let Peter out of their sight now they had him. Seeing their determination, Peter shrugged and sighed.

“All right, but you have to promise to leave your weapons here.”

“He's gone bonkers,” Top Hat grinned at the others, making circular motions with one finger beside his head. “Quite loopy!”

“I mean it....leave the weapons or you don't come.” Peter ordered, looking sternly at his men.

“Whatsit mean Peter?” Crate asked, squinting at his leader suspiciously, “you don't have ol' Hook bound and bundled do ya?”

“No.....but I do have someone you need to meet.....again. But he's not the same as he was, he's changed...and you can't hold what he was before, against him....” Peter scratched his head, mouthing the sentence silently back to himself to see if it made sense. “Understand?”

The three Lost Boy's exchanged glances then looked at Peter, shrugging their shoulders almost in unison. “Nope!”

Rolling his eyes, Peter turned away and started to stomp through the village, the Lost Boys tagging along, Rat bouncing up and down and trying to guess who Peter was taking them to see.

“It can't be Gussie, 'cos you took him back to the world ages ago...it's not Gussie is it?”

“No....you'll have to wait and see...” Peter growled, ignoring Rat and the others. The Indian's at their fires watched the boys curiously but didn't rise from their cooking fires to follow. The braves on guard duty around the village also ignored the boys, more intent on staying alert for any surprise attack by the pirates. Peter reached the last line of Indian tents and stopped, putting his fingers to his lips and letting out a shrill whistle. Almost at once a figure appeared between the trees, the dark outline walking the short distance over the cleared ground to where Peter stood waiting. The three boys ranged on either side of their leader couldn't belief their eyes. Crate had an arrow notched on his bow before Peter snatched the weapon out of his hand.

“I said no weapons!”

“But it's 'im! Blackhearted Jack....the scourge of the seven seas!” Top Hat announced dramatically, the other boys drawing back a pace as Jack stepped forward.

“Hi Crate, Rat......Top Hat. I'm 'ardly a scourge.....more of a nuisance really.” Jack grinned at his former comrades but received only scowls in reply. “Oh come on boys.....it's me.....Jack!”

“We know well enough who you are....pirate,” Crate spat, the gob of spittle missing Jack's boots by a hairs-breadth.

“Enough,” Peter ordered, slashing his hand down. “Jack doesn't remember anything about being a pirate, or the time before....he hasn't changed from before he changed....if you know what I mean.”

“He 'as changed....he got big,” Rat piped up, no longer afraid, but still cautious. “Doesn't he remember us?”

“Of course I remember you, Rat. I remember all of you....just not about what's been happening for awhile now.” Jack swept a look down at himself. “You know, Peter, it might help if I wasn't walking around looking like Hook's henchman.”

“True....but for now, that will have to do. I have to get you through the village without someone taking your scalp or filling you full of arrows.”

“Fat chance!” Crate snorted, the other two nodding their heads in agreement. “Those Indian's are just itchin' to have someone to roast over a slow fire, and you look like prime rib to me.”

Jack's smile was starting to slip, his eyes meeting Peter's. “They could be right Peter....maybe we should....” He made to turn but Peter gripped his arm and started to drag him forward.

“No...the more time we waste the more likely Wendy is in danger....we have to have the Indian's help, and I'd rather they weren't trying to strip off your hide at every turn. You boys walk behind and beside Jack and keep anyone back who looks like they want to count coup on Jack's head.....alright?” He waited for his boys to answer but they only shuffled their feet and looked anywhere but at him. “I said right!” Peter reiterated in a growl, his brows drawing down and his eyes pinning each boy until they nodded their heads. “Right....now keep close and don't respond to anything anyone says.”

The small group headed into the Indian encampment and almost immediately a hum of voice rose as the people noted who was walking among them. A crowd started to trail behind Peter, Jack and the boys, several braves brandishing tomahawks and spears among the others, all of them not looking particularly friendly or welcoming. Peter kept his head up and marched through the village, ignoring the mutterings and shouts that followed him. Chief Talagumpa and Tiger Lily had left their tent and were walking forward to meet the small party, the elders and guards on the alert as the Peter approached, stopping a few paces from the Indian Chief. By now the whole village had turned out and stood in a large circle around the group at it's center. Jack tried to ignore the itching between his shoulder blades that warned him that many weapons were currently aimed at his back, the light from the fires glinting off blades held in readiness to cut him down if he so much as blinked the wrong way. Peter took a step forward and held up his hand in the time honored gesture of Peace, his arm bent at the elbow, his palm facing out. Chief Talagumpa copied the move and even smiled benignly at Peter, seeing some humor in the situation.

“We come in Peace, Chief,” Peter said, keeping his eyes fixed on the older man and avoiding the masses watching around them.

“You are welcome in Peace, Peter Pan,” Talagumpa replied, an audible snort heard from his daughter at his side. Talagumpa turned his head slightly to rebuke her and Tiger Lily pressed her lips more tightly together to repress the flood of accusations she wanted to fire at the silent figure standing behind Peter. She had to admit to herself that Jack did look very attractive in his black, pirate garb, his long hair and dark features giving her a warm sensation in the pit of her stomach. Cursing herself roundly, she kept her own face set in a ferocious scowl, refusing to soften her expression in front of a pirate.

Peter lowered his hand, his expression still serious as he prepared to plead on Jack's behalf. “I bring you someone who, until this moment, has been a sworn enemy of myself, the Lost Boys and Indian's alike.”

“We recognize Blackhearted Jack. Why do you bring him before us?”

“He had been changed. He is no longer the pirate he was these past times, but is once more Jack, or Jack Flash as he was known among the Lost Boys. He is a victim of the Cave of Dreams.....” A murmur went up from the crown surrounding them at the mention of the Cave, everyone well aware of Walbassa and his trickery. Now the Chief was the focus of their attention, awaiting his reaction to his brother's latest mischief. Peter continued. “Jack remembers nothing of his time spent with Hook aboard the Jolly Roger, and nothing of the time before that. He is, as he ever was.........my friend.”

The murmur became a roar as the Indian's commented among themselves about the extraordinary turn of events. Talagumpa held up his hand for silence and the uproar faded away.

“People of the Piccaninies......one stands before you that was once a pirate, Hook's right hand man, an enemy of our people and an enemy of Neverland. In a twist of fate he had been given a chance to live his life back over again, to once more be a friend of Neverland, a protector of it's people and a good man. We only have the word of Peter Pan that this is so. In the past that has always been enough. I believe it is enough now, as well. Black hearted Jack is no more and is no longer considered an enemy of our people or an enemy to his true self. As Chief of you all, so do I rule.”

For a second the crowd remained silent, Talagumpa letting his gaze fall on his people as they decided the fate of the young man standing before them. At last a lone voice called his name, then another joined in, then another until the air was filled with the shouts of his people chanting his name, their arms in the air as they acknowledged his decision as their own. Peter, Jack and the Lost boys stood looking around at the Indian's, still tense and unsure that they weren't about to be taken as prisoners. Eventually the tumult died down and Talagumpa faced Peter's deputation with a broad grin on his face.

“We accept that you come in Peace....and welcome you back, Jack Flash, as one of the Lost Boys and friend of Neverland. May what evil turned you the first time, have no power over you any more.”

Peter let out the breath he'd been holding, his shoulders relaxing as he accepted the Chief's outstretched hand and pumped it up and down appreciatively. He turned and waved Jack forward, the Chief shaking his hand as well before sweeping the surprised young man into a bear hug that made his ribs creak. Over the Chief's brawny shoulder Jack saw Tiger Lily stalking away, her back rigid and her plaits swinging angrily. Despite the Chief's, and the people's acceptance, Jack knew that Lily would not acquiesce so easily. For now, he had passed the first hurdle, Peter thumping him on the back and grinning at his friend, glad that at least he didn't have to worry about an arrow or hatchet burying itself in Jacks' back anytime soon. The crowd was dispersing back to their tepees and Peter fell into step beside the Chief, Jack on the man's other side as they walked back to the large tepee. Crate, Rat and Top hat straggled behind, all of them relieved that they didn't have to fight for their lives on Jack's behalf. They wanted to believe the Jack was once more the friend they'd known, but for now they'd reserve judgment and let Peter lead the way until Jack proved himself. Talagumpa had already left instructions and his wife was waiting to take Jack away before allowing him to enter the Chief's tent. Jack gave in to their pinching and poking, shrugging his shoulders in resignation as they led him away. Peter followed Talagumpa into the tepee, the Lost Boys close behind. Inside the fire had died down and side flaps had been open to let out the smoke and heat, leaving only the lamps to light the interior. Peter and the boys ranged themselves on either side of the Chief, who quickly seated himself cross legged on his raised bench, one of the braves handing the man a long pipe, heavily decorated and giving out a pale wisp of scented smoke from the bowl.

“We smoke the pipe of Peace, Peter Pan, and wait for your friend to return. The women won't be long about it. In the meantime, tell me what you plan to do now.”

One of the women in the tent was handing out bowls to the boys, each one filled with tender strips of meat and a thick gravy filled with vegetables. Peter ate a mouthful before putting his bowl down to accept the pipe from the Chief. The pipe was longer than his arm but he held the bowl in one hand and steadied the stem with his other before putting it to his mouth and inhaling. He had to draw hard to bring the sweet smoke into his mouth. It tasted of apples and Neverberries, not unpleasant at all. He let some of the smoke leak out of the side of his mouth before removing the end of the pipe and blowing out the rest. Talagumpa beamed at him, his eyes twinkling. Peter could feel a tingling in his tongue and was glad he hadn't drawn the smoke into his lungs, having past experience with the potency of the tobacco used. It might taste sweet and innocuous, but the pipe had the ability to make the user very mellow indeed, and Peter wanted to keep his wits about him when he made plans for Wendy's rescue. Handing the pipe back to the Chief, Peter finished the rest of his meal and drank deeply from the beaker handed to him, the water inside chilled and delicious. A commotion outside announced the arrival of Jack, no longer dressed in his pirate black, but attired like the Lost boys, in skins, leggings and moccasins. Jack grinned self consciously at his audience, holding his arms out from his sides and turning around while the Lost Boy's whooped and Peter whistled appreciatively.

“Sit and eat with us Jack,” Peter waved him over and the boys shuffled along to make room. Once Jack was settled, Peter turned to Talagumpa.

“You asked me what my plans are Chief. At this point I'm forced to assume the worst. Either Wendy is wandering alone and unprotected somewhere on Neverland, or she is in the hands of Hook, aboard the Jolly Roger.”

“My offer to bring Walbassa here to answer for his mischief still stands, but I am not convinced that it would prove helpful.” Talagumpa puffed on the pipe, the smoke weaving patterns in the air above the man's head. “My brother is a wily wolf and does many things that are inexplicable to others, even to me. His return of Jack Flash to his former self could be his way of apologizing for something else that he has been forced to do.”

“Forced!,” Peter laughed, “he has the same abilities as you. I can't see anyone forcing him to do anything he didn't want to. It's the reason we all avoid the cave. Even Hook came up against him once and had to retreat in defeat.”

“What you say is true, but his abilities are limited to the Cave and no further. Certainly a person can leave the cave altered beyond recognition, as happened to those pirates, but Walbassa can't leave the cave himself. Which brings up the point of why did the wolves take your Wendy to them in the first place?”

“I didn't ask. I supposed they thought he would know what to do about them. But now you mention it, whey didn't they just guide Wendy back to you. They could have held Jack until she was safe then let him go. I can't believe Lupa or any of her kin would do anything to harm Wendy.”

“Maybe not Lupa, but she is only mate to Ferru, not the leader of the pack. Ferru is the one we should ask, the one we who's motives bear some scrutiny. But that is for the future, in the meantime your immediate problem is the whereabouts of your Wendy.”

“Tink had to leave me at the Cave, her kind are forbidden to enter and she flew back, I thought, to here.”

“She did not return to us,” Crate muttered around a beaker of juice.

“She might have gone to find the others,” Rat piped up around a mouth stuffed full of apple.

“She might have Rat, good thinking,” Peter replied, smiling at the younger boy. Talagumpa puffed contentedly while Jack filled his belly and slaked his thirst, the other Lost Boys starting to lay down as the food pulled on their eyelids. Eventually the sound of snoring could be heard over the crackle of the dying embers, the Chief finishing his pipe and putting it aside. Jack patted his stomach and smiled smugly.

“If Dipping Swallow wasn't already married to you Chief, I'd ask her to be my wife, just on the basis of her cooking skills alone!”

In the shadows came a chorus of muffled giggles as the Indian woman responded to Jack's cheeky proposal, Dipping Swallow giving Jack a cuff across the back of the head as she passed to leave the tepee to the menfolk. Jack only grinned wider and waggled his eyebrows at her. The women were followed by the last of the Elders, leaving only one brave standing in readiness in case his Chief needed a runner at any time.

“So Peter.....do we go and interrogate Ferru, summon Walbassa, search for Tinkerbell, what do we do next?”

“I will be going down to Mermaid Lagoon to find out where Hook is hiding. If Tink turns up, or Squid and the others return, keep them here until morning. If I'm not back by then, meet me at Cannibal Cove and we'll make our plans from there.” Peter rose to his feet, his hand on his sword hilt. Jack clambered up as well, the Lost Boy's a second behind him.

“Let me come with you Peter!”

“Don't leave us behind again Peter!”

Only Talagumpa made no attempt to detain him. “You will not take on Hook alone, will you?” The old Indian asked, his dark eyes holding Peter's. “If he has your Wendy, he will not hesitate to use her against you. You must be on your guard. Neverland seems to be hatching plots behind every rock these days.”

“I'll be on my guard. Look for me at dawn. Jack, take care of the boys, you're in charge until I return.”

“Thanks, I think. I'll still have a deal of explaining to do to the others when they arrive.”

“I'm sure that smart mouth of yours will think of something.” Taking his leave of the Chief, Peter left the tepee, the village outside illuminated with the flicker of many fires, the night sky covered in twinkling stars as bright as diamonds. With a nimble leap Peter flew into the air and shot off towards the west, his destination, the Mermaid's Lagoon.

Inside Talagumpa's tepee, Jack was waking the Lost Boys who grumbled and groused at being woken up and moved from their comfortable beds among the furs. He bundled them outside and hustled them towards another, smaller tepee pointed out to him as for their use by the Chief's wife. With the boys settled, Jack watched over them to make sure they fell asleep before silently leaving the tent. He was too awake and wanted to walk off his meal, the night too lovely to waste in mere sleeping. He felt conspicuous walking through the Indian village but nobody really took particular notice of him, the braves on guard duty simply nodding when he passed. Despite looking aimless, Jack was anything but. He was looking for Tiger Lily and had a fair idea where he'd find her. A short trek down a shadowed path brought him to the fighting grounds where the braves practiced and kept up their hunting and battle skills. Only half a dozen torches were lit around the perimeter and at first he didn't see her. Then he heard a dull thunk as a knife thudded into a wooden target, the blade half buried with the force of the throw. Jack winced, imagining it hitting him squarely in the chest, or more likely in the back, the faint whistle as it passed through the air his only warning. Hoping to look as unarmed as possible, he shucked off the goatskin waistcoat tied across his chest, together with its undershirt, leaving him bare-chested and wearing only his leggings and moccasins. Tiger Lily had her back to him, her hand wrapped around the hilt of the knife she was attempting to pull out of the log target, the blade sticking hard into the heart wood. As she tugged, she swore under her breath, Jack hearing his name more than once as she muttered, trying to free the knife.

“Keep this up and it will be too blunt to use,”

As expected, Tiger Lily whirled at the sound of his voice, her plaits flying.

“What do you want....pirate!” she spat, turning her back again and wrenching more forcefully at the stuck knife.

“Just to talk,”

“There is nothing for us to talk about....pirate. Once I have this blade free I'll split your gizzard and leave you for the crows to consume.”

Jack swallowed but remained where he was, only the tenseness of his shoulders betraying his unease. “That would be a pity. I'd much prefer a sharp blade than one so dull it sticks in a tree.”

“It will be sharp enough,” Tiger Lily panted, biting her lip and giving a small cry when her hand slipped, catching on the hilt and bruising her fingers. “A blunt knife is exactly what you deserve...a slow, painful death for a pirate.”

“Woah, I must have really done something horrible to you. What did I do?”

Sucking her injured finger, Tiger Lily gave up on the knife for the moment and turned to face her tormentor. “You know what you did. I don't believe that you've lost your memory, not for a second. It's just a ruse to fool Peter and the others, so you can lead Hook to them.”

Jack held out his hands. “I have know idea what I might have done.....I really don't remember. The last thing I do remember was talking to you about meeting at the fork in the river to take the canoe down to the rapids. You liked me well enough then.”

Lily gaped at him. “That was.......no, I don't believe you, you're just trying to trick me the way you tricked my father.”

“You must have a very poor opinion of your father and Peter to think I could fool either of them. Indeed all your village must be fools as well, and what about the Lost Boys, are they fools too?”

“YES!” the Princess shouted, her temper reaching boiling point. “They are all stupid, stupid, stupid...and you are the most stupid of them all!” Incensed, she flew at Jack, her fingers crooked to gouge out his eyes and rip out his hair. Fortunately, Jack was quicker and managed to dodge out of her way, Tiger Lily whirling for another charge only to find Jack there, his hands encasing her wrists to keep them from his face. With her hands tied she used her feet, raking his shins and raising her knee to dig into his groin. Realizing the danger, Jack pushed her away, Lily falling to the ground, the wind knocked out of her for a second or two.

“Calm down, or I'll be forced to hurt you!” Jack shouted, watching the Princess warily as she scrambled to her feet, wheezing as she sucked in air. “I only wanted to talk to you, not scrap like dogs.”

“You're the dog...you pirate!” She spat back, her eyes bright with unshed tears, of rage or hurt Jack couldn't tell.

“What did I do? Tell me, at least let me know what I did to make you so mad at me,” Jack held out his hand pleadingly, circling Tiger Lily and keeping her at arms length. “Everyone tells me I was a pirate, but I don't remember. I just don't know what I did.”

Abruptly the Princess stopped her stalking, her hands dropping to her side as she straitened up from the fighting crouch she'd been in. “You really don't know, do you?” Sensing her acceptance, Jack lowered his guard and held out his hand.

“Truly....I don't know.” He smiled at her, his expression hopeful. In a blink he found himself on his back, the weight of the Indian girl on his chest, her fingers pinning his wrists to the ground while holding his legs down with her feet in a wrestling hold. Panting, Tiger Lily grinned down at him, her face in shadow as she leant over him. He tried to rise but couldn't lift his shoulders off the ground, an experiment with bucking her off proved just as fruitless. Relaxing back against the grass he shook his hair out of his eyes and stared back up at his opponent. “I should have remembered, you always were the sneaky one when it came to hand-to-hand combat.”

“Yes you should have remembered, pirate. Now you're my prisoner, not the other way round.” Lily bared her teeth in a mirthless grimace, her plaits swinging above Jack's face and tickling his cheek. Something she said made Jack forget about struggling and look up at her.

“Did I take you prisoner Princess...is that what this is about?”

“Not you this time..........Hook. Had me chained like an animal, left to drown within Skull Rock.”

“I'm....sorry....” Jack said, a drop of moisture landing on his chin and sliding down his neck. For a second he thought it had started to rain, but then realized it must have been a tear. Keeping his body calm and relaxed, he didn't resist or make any attempt to escape. “But you escaped.”

“Only because of the bravery of Peter Pan and a small party of braves. If they hadn't come after me......” Tiger Lily sniffed, another droplet joining the first. “And then you had to go and steal off with our Wendy and do goodness knows what with her....now you expect me to believe you've changed somehow.... that you' re not one of them any more.”

Without realizing it, the Princess had released her grip on Jack's wrists to wipe her eyes and nose, her captive keeping his hands where she'd left them and making no move to get up. Realizing at last that Jack was a silent witness to her distress, Tiger Lily levered herself off him and rose to her feet. Jack lay still for a moment before slowly rolling on to his knees and getting to his feet. By then she had walked slowly to the target and a simple twist freed her knife from it's woody scabbard.

Turning around, she found that Jack was still standing where she'd left him. Sniffing, she stuck her knife back into her belt and made to leave, stalking past Jack with her head held high. A warm hand closing around her arm halted her in mid stride.

“I can't say anything other than sorry. I wish you would believe that I'm no longer a pirate, that I'm as I ever was. That I don't mean you any harm....and wish......” Jack paused, his fingers flexing against her skin. Tiger Lily turned her head to look at him, her face clearly visible in the torch lights still flickering around the clearing.

“What do you wish.....Jack?” Her dark gaze held his, not pulling her arm out of his grip.

“I wish......we could be friends again. Like we used to be. The way it was before.....” He shrugged and let his hand drop from her arm.

“Were we ever friends Jack?” Lily asked, her mouth crooked in a slight smile. “We were many things – enemies, opponents, adversaries – even back then. I don't remember being friends.....ever.”

“Could we be?” His expression looked so hopeful and pleading and so unlike the Jack she'd come to expect, that Tiger Lily couldn't help herself and burst out laughing. Jack looked fleetingly offended before letting out a chuff of laughter as well. Looking rueful he held his hands up in surrender.

“If not friends Princess...then what?”

“I'll think of something Jack Flash.” Without waiting for a reaction or an answer, Tiger Lily walked away from Jack and out of the glade, Jack watching her sashay away with a purely male appreciation.

“Well at least she didn't use that knife on me,” he said out loud, running his hand over his still intact scalp, “there's hope for me yet.” Then, grinning foolishly to himself, Jack followed the Indian Princess back to the village, keeping his distance in a healthy respect for the girls' throwing skill with a bowie knife.

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27/04/07

Chapter: Sixteen - Wrong End of the Stick

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Peter alighted on one of the huge rocks dotted about the Mermaid Lagoon, his toes digging into the seaweed covering the surface. The moon hadn't risen yet and the water lapped sluggishly at the boulders that served as couches for the mermaids that frequented the bay during the day. He could see stars reflected in the ripples cascading lazily across the swell, no break in its perfection as far as the eye could see. Pulling out his pan pipes, he sat cross-legged on the hard stone and blew softly into the reeds. A mournful sound like the dropping of a pebble in a pond started to drift over the water, Peter's thoughts following the tune while he waited for an answer.

Jack's return had only briefly diverted his thoughts on Wendy and her fate. It was clear that someone, or something was thwarting his attempts to find her, throwing hurdles in his path to divert him from the inevitable. What was worse, he knew in his gut that Hook had Wendy, a thought that chilled him to the bone. Notes fell from the pan pipes as his fingers lifted and lowered over the tiny holes in it's surface, like those notes his mind filled with glimpses of the brief time he'd spent in Wendy's company, the first meal they'd had with the Lost Boy's in the Hollow, the delight on her face when he showed her the fairies dancing in the air, her simple pleasure in seeing a fairy ring for the first time. All these images danced over his minds' eye while his pan pipes sang a melancholy tune, in keeping with his emotions. For such a brief time it had been so intense, so overwhelmingly focused entirely on her, that everything else had seemed a dream, her face, her features the only thing he wanted to see. And then there were the kisses, his eyes closing as he remembered each and every one, some of them light, some of them making his body sing and his toes curl. A note jarred in the tune, his finger slipping when an unbidden image came to his mind of Hook kissing Wendy in just the same way she did him. For a moment he paused in his playing, then started again, the mournful tune wending it's way around the rocks and through the water to dance among the weeds and fishes below. She would never kiss Hook, it was unthinkable. He'd told her what he was, what he did, hadn't he? Surely she'd realize that Hook was the worst of the worst, a pirate without mercy or pity. Peter shook his head, it was madness to think she would ever feel anything for one such as Hook. He blew harder on the pipes, the notes skipping into the air like rocks skimming the waves, ripples starting to appear on the water's surface. No, she would fight him, claw his eyes and kicks his shins for the codfish he was. Peter's music grew stronger so that the tune sang clear and loud, echoing off the rocks to set up a counter melody that wove in and out of the new notes like smoke on the wind. The ripples around his rock were growing more pronounced, a dark shadow sliding just under the surface, the tip of a tail leaving behind a stream of bubbles that broke the smooth surface with a whoosh of sound. His tune was coming to an end, a final blast leaving it hanging in the air just as a head broke the water at his feet and rose up to stand on it's tail, water streaming off it's sleek body.

“You calls to us, Pan,” the mermaid stated, titling her head and staring at him with her sloe eyes.

“What know you of the Jolly Roger?” Peter asked, not bothering with the usual curtesies.

“We knows from our sister that it sails off the sand spit, far from 'ere. We also knows that aboard is a 'uman, one that is new to the Jolly Roger and us.”

“Was the human a girl?” Peter asked, leaning forward in his eagerness to know more.

“Our sister says it was female, one that another sister tried to snatch from the air.”

“Then it is Wendy,” Peter breathed, settling back on his haunches. “Did she look well, was she harmed?”

“Our sister say the 'uman was sitting at the window of 'ooks cabin. She looked sad, but not damaged.”

“In Hook's clutches,” Peter growled, clenching his fist. “If he's touched her.....”

The mermaid watched him intently, her obsidian eyes noting his frown and closed fist, a smile playing about her lips, revealing a glimpse of the sharpened fangs behind.

“This 'uman is special to Pan?”

“Very special.”

“The Pan want we snatch her from 'ook for 'im?”

“NO!....er no, thank you. I will find the ship and rescue Wendy myself. You say it's out beyond the sand spit?” He waited for the mermaid to nod in answer. “Then I will fly out there tonight and see what's happening. Maybe I'll have a chance to get Wendy out under cover of darkness.” Jumping to his feet Peter made to fly away only to have his ankle caught in the grip of the mermaid, her long nails digging into his skin. He floated back to the rock and stood there, his hands on his hips.

“Let me go.”

“We will....when we is finished telling Pan what he needs to know.”

“What else is there?” Peter demanded, impatient now to be gone.

“There is plotting against the Pan. We hear many words that mean an end to the reign of Pan on this island. An end to Neverland itself. Do you not hear them yourself?”

“What plots? What are you talking about?”

“We hear all that goes between the land and sea, in the air and under the water, we hears but do not want ,always, to believe. Pan should be wary of friends that are no longer allies, and look at former enemies as future friends.”

Peter lowered his hands from his hips and stared hard at the mermaid. The slippery creatures were renowned for their ability to gather information, but they were also less well known for being creatures of prophecy. Peter shook his head, unwilling to contemplate what the mermaid was trying to tell him.

“I will listen to what you say and act on it. For now, I must find the ship and rescue my Wendy.”

“We 'ave said all there is to tell you. Goodbye Pan...we 'ope you find your 'uman in one piece.” Her mission accomplished, the mermaid dived back under the water and disappeared, leaving Peter to ponder her words before taking his own leave and leaping into the night sky in search of the Jolly Roger.

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Wendy slept fitfully, her lips parting often to emit a little moan as she fidgeted on the hard planking. Above her head Hook slept no better, his eyelids flickering constantly as he struggled to wade through old nightmares without waking up. With a sigh he gave up and opened his eyes to a cabin wreathed in shadows. A sound from the floor brought him fully awake to the presence of someone else in the room with him. Still befuddled by sleep he swung his legs off the side of the bed and wondered briefly why he was still dressed in his coat and trousers. The toe of his shoe nudged something soft and he looked down. A girl slept curled up like a kitten, her legs drawn up and one arm held out, her wrist encased in a heavy shackle attached by a chain to a slim ankle barely visible below the hem of her dress. Memory eluded Hook for several seconds as he stared down at the stranger sharing his cabin, a faint moan from the sleeper snapping memory back in to place.

“Aaaah yes.....Wendy Darling.” Careful not to step on her, Hook eased off the side of his bed and walked over to the table. Grabbing a beaker, specially designed to allow him to pick it up with his hook, he filled it with sweet wine and drank deeply. The faintest scrape of metal on wood drew his attention back to the girl beside his bed.

“Bad form, old chap. No way to treat a lady, let alone a mere girl.” Sinking the last of the wine, he unhooked the drinking vessel and approached the bed once more. He paused for a moment then bent down and picked the girl up, shackles and all, and deposited her in the center of his bed. That maneuver accomplished, he stood looking down at her for a moment before turning his back and returning to the table. The light from the few lanterns still burning cast his features into harsh shadows, hiding the expression in his eyes and masking the softness teetering about his mouth.

“You're getting old, Hook me boy.....old and soft,” he chastised himself, reaching once more for the wine jug. “Too old and soft to be taken in by a pair of blue eyes and hair like honey.......good Lord, it's enough to make a grown pirate puke!”

Slamming down the wine jug he swung around, coat tails flying. The blue dress contrasted with the rich burgundy velvet of his bed covering, her hair looking gold in the subdued light where it lay over the white, lace pillows. Stalking over to the bed, Hook raised his gleaming metal appendage in readiness to bring it down on the helpless sleeper, his eyes taking on a reddish gleam as he brought his arm down, burying the knife sharp hook deep in a pillow behind the girls head.

“What is it about you that turns a man from his true purpose?” Hook queried, his other hand braced so that he bracketed the girls head, trapping her in the cage formed by his arms. “What are you to him? Will he rescue you, will he brave the jaws of hell for you? What hold do you have over a man to make him go against everything he's ever believed in?”

Wrenching himself away, he flung the ruined pillow across the room, goose feathers fluttering around him like a snow storm before settling on every flat surface in the cabin. Unable to answer his own questions, Hook prowled to the window and flung it open, the sudden influx of night air sending his hair back over his shoulders and a welcome chill to run down his spine. “I will prise the secrets out of you, my beauty, even if it means your life to do so.” Leaning out of the window, Hook stared down at the swirling water below, the sky above ablaze with stars with only the faintest glimmer of the approaching dawn spearing the distant horizon. With sleep thoroughly routed, Hook left the window and walked to the cabin door, his hand on the latch before he turned to stare at his shadowed bed and it's lone occupant. “I will find out your secrets, and with them end the torment that is Peter Pan.” Wrenching the door wide, he marched through, closing it behind him.

Silence smothered the cabin with his departure, the lanterns swinging lazily from their hooks, their flames burning lower and lower, impending dawn ready to snuff them out completely. From her place among the rumpled covers of the Captain's bed, Wendy lay as Hook had placed her, her body relaxed but her mind a ferment of racing thoughts, tripping over themselves and running into corners as she tried to make sense of what she'd heard the man muttering. Her heart still hammered from when the hook had landed so close to her head, her fingernail leaving crescents in her palms as she fought to keep still and feign sleep. Now he had gone from the room and she could faintly hear the sound of footsteps overhead as he paced the poop deck, the lacquered heels of his shoes tapping out a persistent and regular pattern. Slowly she eased her stiff limbs into movement, the clink of the chain reminding her that her apparent freedom was a mockery, the hobble sufficient to render her unable to help herself in anything but the most basic of functions. Apart from stretching out her limbs, there was precious little else she could do, and little point other than to rub the skin on her wrist and ankle into bloody ruin. Laying back down, she settled herself against the soft pillows, appreciative of their comfort even if she wished herself back on the floor and safe. Being nestled in the middle of Hook's bed made her feel anything but safe, surrounded as she was now by the smell of his tobacco and his cologne. It was not that it was unpleasant, it was just a constant reminder that she was not free to leave and held at the mercy of a man with a reputation for dread piracy and quite likely pillaging. Not that she really knew what pillaging entailed, but she could guess and it boded her no good, especially when she considered Hook's parting words. She didn't know what secrets he hoped to wrest from her, or what good they would do him if he did, she only knew that to do so would quite possibly be painful for her, and easily end with her demise. “Please find me Peter....find me soon, for I think I might be only food for the fishes if you take much longer.”

As it appeared that the good Captain was not about to return to his cabin or his bed anytime soon, Wendy started to relax, only to go rigid with fright once more when a hand clamped itself over her mouth, stealing her breath and her cries for help.

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Peter had flown almost all of the night looking for the pirate anchorage, the task made more difficult because of a moonless sky and the ship itself running without lights. With only starlight to guide him, Peter had to search every cove and bay along the length of the sand spit, a stretch of dune sculptured land with little vegetation and plentiful inlets. Exhausted, he flew over a tall spine of rocks and almost collided with the mast of the Jolly Roger, only a quick dive avoiding a direct hit and his likely entanglement among the rigging. As he hovered over the deck, he could only just make out the ships distinctive outline, its camouflage against the cliff almost absolute, a clever ruse to avoid detection. Now that he had found her, he silently swooped down to the water line and skimmed over the surface, searching for a way to get into the ship without setting foot on the deck. He assumed that Hook would keep his most important prisoner in one of the small cabins adjoining his own, the better to keep watch. Peter was sure that if it was himself in Hook's clutches, he'd be languishing below decks in the brig, amongst the rats and roaches. But Wendy was not him, and Hook was, for all his piratical inclinations, a man that boasted the refinements of a gentleman at every opportunity, so it was likely he'd house a female prisoner in much more salubrious quarters than the smelly hold. The only light Peter could find was coming faintly from the Captain's cabin aft of the main deck, the thick, colored glass inserts muting the lanterns still alight within.

Careful not to make a sound, Peter landed on the ledge outside the windows and pressed his ear to the glass, listening for any hint of occupation. He'd already checked the crew's quarters, the men snoring up a storm, even the night watch were barely awake where they slumped over wheel and railing. Along the hull of this sleeping ship crept Peter Pan, his own shadow swallowed up by the towering bulk above his head. Only the slap of the wavelets against the hull accompanied his stealthy approach. Now he crouched against the cold glass and listened, straining to hear anything that would indicate a prisoner aboard and their whereabouts. He heard movement, someone pacing the room and muttering, the words indistinct through the window panes, then the footsteps approached where he crouched, a window further along suddenly flung open. He heard Hook draw in a deep breath, the unmistakable scent of his cologne tickling Peter's nose when he leant forward on the window sill.

“I will prise the secrets out of you, my beauty, even if it means your life to do so.” Hook spoke to no-one but himself, unaware of his nemesis so close. Peter saw the pirate Captain lift his chin and stare out across the water at the sliver of light starting to appear on the distant horizon, the herald of dawn making it's presence known. Then Hook was gone and his footsteps clearly heard on the wooden planking until he stopped on the far side of the room. Peter held his breath and kept as still as a statue. Again, Hook spoke, and Peter heard a rasp of bitterness taint the pirates voice.

“I will find out your secrets, and with them end the torment that is Peter Pan.” Then Hook was gone and the door shut behind him. Only when Peter heard Hook prowling the upper deck did he slowly stretch out of his concealing crouch and fly the short distance to the open window. Unsheathing his knife, he slunk over the window ledge and stood for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the deeper gloom of the cabin. The last guttering flames of the lanterns shed uneven light over the room, casting swaying shadows that concealed and revealed in turns. A movement from the bed drew Peter's attention there, his breath almost freezing in his lungs at the moment he realized that someone was still laying there. One of the lanterns flare briefly before going out, the wash of light enough to show a slash of blue fabric amid the dark velvet of the coverlet and a hint of gold tinged hair spread over the white linen pillows. Making sure not to bump into the furniture placed around the room, Peter made his way towards the bed, his senses alert to the sound of Hook pacing back and forth above his head, as well as any sound that would indicate anyone coming through the cabin door. As he came nearer, he made out a bare foot peeking out of the skirt of a blue dress, a length of pale arm draped over the dark velvet, the hand curled innocently against the gold embroidery, and at length an expanse of pale throat above an unadorned round neckline.

Sheathing his knife he darted a look at the door, then the ceiling before turning his attention to the sleeper on the bed. Wendy's eyes were closed and he supposed her asleep, so he placed his hand over her mouth before waking her, to stifle any cry of alarm. At the first touch of his hand Wendy flinched and squealed, the cry muffled behind his fingers.

“Shhhhhh I've come to rescue you,” Peter whispered, his mouth close to her ear. Slowly he removed his hand, his shadow moving off her face to reveal her features, eyes wide and dark, lips parted to drag in much needed air. Wendy had to swallow twice before she could speak.

“Peter.....oh Peter, I thought......you're here.......Hook!”

“Is still up on deck pacing his shoes into holes. I heard him go, I was outside the window.” He turned his head to indicate the open window then swung back to face her, his mouth split with a cheeky grin. “Hook's left the window open so we can fly away....come on!” Peter made to pull Wendy out of bed but the heavy clink of chains stalled him. Unseen before now, the shackles that bound Wendy to the floor now showed themselves on wrist and ankle, the chain secured to a stout ring set into the wall beam. Peter tugged at the chain but it held true.

“Damn......I'll have to get the key to these shackles, if I'm to free you. I suppose Hook has it about his person?”

“I don't know Peter, I didn't see a key. You can't be here when he comes back, you must go....” Wendy tore at the metal encasing her wrist, sobbing when it wouldn't budge. Peter tried to help her but they only succeeded in breaking the skin and making her bleed. “Oh Peter it's no use......they won't come off.”

“I won't leave you here.......I heard Hook.....he....” Peter didn't finish, not wanting to frighten Wendy further, but she already knew what Hook planned for her.

“I know Peter......he said,” she swallowed hard, “he said he would find out my secrets, and use them to hurt you.”

“What are these secrets Wendy, what is he talking about?”

“I don't know....I really don't....but Peter....he.....we.....” she stalled, blushing at the thought of the kisses she'd shared with Hook. Peter tilted her chin up to see her face better.

“What Wendy? What did Hook do?”

Jerking her chin out of his grip, Wendy turned her face away. “He........kissed me.” She waited for his reaction but when none was forthcoming she turned to face him. Peter looked stunned, his expression perplexed.

“Why would he do that? Did you tell him you kissed me?”

“No....I don't know why he kissed me....neither of them were very nice, just frightening.”

“There was more than one?” Peter asked, her eyes wider than ever. Wendy realized her blunder too late and tried to recover.

“Well, yes....he did kiss me twice....the first time to punish me, I'm sure. The second time.....” She paused, not at all sure what to call the second kiss, it's memory making her feel strange. Peter wasn't prepared to be patient.

“What about the second kiss?” He asked, jealously turning his voice into a hiss.

“He said it was to remind me.....”

“Remind you of what?” Peter asked, his voice rising an octave, despite being little more than a whisper.

“Of what a real man's kiss is like......” Wendy finished, wincing and leaning away from Peter as if expecting a blow. When it didn't arrive she peeped out from behind her curtain of hair to see that Peter was sitting down on the side of the bed, his shoulder slumped as if in defeat. “I'm sorry Peter....really, I didn't want to kiss him......I told him I hoped you'd gut him when you next met.”

“Did Hook capture you, or did you ask to be taken aboard?” Peter asked, his voice a dull monotone. He wasn't looking at her but studying his toes in the growing light coming in the window from the dawn.

“I don't know what happened. One minute I was on a sandy beach. I'd lain down because I felt so tired, under the shade of a palm tree. The next time I awoke I was here, in Hook's cabin. Do these look like I want to be here?” She held up her bloody wrist and rattled the chain, pulling her ankle up to do so. Wendy started to cry, aware of how hopeless the situation was for her. Peter's heart thumped, the anger and jealousy melting away in the face of her obvious distress.

“I'm sorry Wendy, of course you don't want to be here....I don't want you here either, but without a key I don't know how to free you.”

Lifting her head, Wendy and Peter stared at each other in the dimly lit cabin. Slowly, Wendy laid her head on Peter's shoulder, his arms coming up to wrap around her while she sniffled against his smooth skin. “What are we going to do?” Wendy asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Peter held her in his arms, gently but firmly. The dawn light was growing stronger and Peter could hear voices above their heads, the night crew being relieved with Hook giving his orders for the day. It wouldn't be long before their solitude was interrupted. Unable to fathom how to free Wendy, Peter tried to think of ways he could get the key from Hook, or at least find out where the key was being kept. The metal ring was so deeply embedded in the beam he'd need a hatchet to hack it free, or barring that, something to cut the ring itself. There would be something in the tools carried aboard the Jolly Roger, but again the problem was how to get to them. He had a choice, either to stay on the ship and try to effect a rescue with a large dose of luck and no help, or fly away, leaving Wendy still a prisoner, and get help from the Indians. The thought of leaving her alone with Hook, after what she'd told him, made his blood run cold. If Hook felt confident enough to assault his prisoner, there was no knowing how far he'd go to find out these secrets he seemed to think so important.

“I won't leave you,” Peter stated, pushing Wendy away and looking deeply into her eyes. “I won't leave you alone with him.”

“But...if you stay here, he'll will catch you too. There's nothing you can do.” Covering her face with her hands, Wendy tried to calm herself, sure that any moment now Hook would stride through the door, expecting to find her still asleep. “You have to go now Peter...Hook will be coming back to check on me.”

“I'm not leaving you, Wendy. So don't waste your breath arguing.” Getting off the bed Peter started to check the cabin for places to conceal him. Despite the wealth of furniture, there were few places for someone to squeeze into and hide. Thinking the bed to be on a box base, Peter didn't check there until last. Frustrated he lifted the edge of the velvet bed hangings only to find that the usual box base was absent. Instead, the big bed sat on large, heavily carved wooden feet bolted to the decking. It left a narrow space just high enough to allow someone very slender to hide.

“Bounce on the bed Wendy!” Peter ordered, laying on his stomach and squinting at the underside of the bed. Wendy did as he instructed and Peter confirmed that her efforts made no difference to the space below. Wendy leant over the edge to better see what he was doing.

“Will you fit?”

“It'll be a tight squeeze...but yes, I'll fit. Now get comfortable and remember, I'll be close by. I'll get us out of here, Wendy, just believe in me.”

“I do Peter...I do believe.” She watched as he wriggled on his belly, using his feet to push himself underneath where she lay. He held his sword in his hand to make it easier, knife in the other, one bare grubby foot the last thing to disappear behind the bed covers. With sunlight starting to creep into the cabin through the open window, Wendy smoothed over the bed where Peter had sat, and tired to rearrange her skirts to look like she had when Hook left her. Finally she lay down, her face hot against the cool linen of the pillows. Her free hand dangled over the edge of the bed, and she started when she felt a warm hand close around hers and squeeze comfortingly. Despite the hopelessness of her situation, having Peter so close made her feel stronger and better able to cope with whatever Hook had planned for her. A noise outside the cabin made her snatch her hand back, a quick glance over the side of the bed proving that Peter was completely hidden from view. A minute later the door opened and she watched, through nearly closed eyes, the portly first mate enter with a steaming basin of water, towels slung over his arm.

Smee paused on the threshold and glanced around the room, noting the open window and young woman apparently asleep in the captain's bed. Tutting to himself, Smee carried the steaming basin behind the screen and placed it on the stand. Picking up the night bucket, water jug and used towels he padded quietly across the floor and left the cabin. Wendy let out a sigh and tried to relax her tense limbs. The drum of feet above her head warned her that the crew were up and about, Hook likely to return soon to have his breakfast, and probably a morning shave. Touching her cheeks to make sure they didn't still feel hot and flushed, she stifled the urge to reach over the side for the security of Peter's hand again. She didn't know what, if anything, Peter could do if Hook decided to try and kiss her again. But just knowing that Peter was within call settled many of her butterflies, her body relaxing against the comfortable mattress and allowing her to doze, a smile curving her mouth as she slumbered.

Underneath Hook's bed, Peter rested his chin on his hands, his view of the room outside limited to a inch below the fringe of the bed covering. His nose itched from the dust coating the wooden floor, a goose feather tickling his chin, but he fought the urge to sneeze. His thoughts were tumblings over each other, anger at Hook for even touching his Wendy, let alone kissing her. Jealousy fought with his temper and he felt almost ready to jump out of his skin, but squashed the feeling, wanting to keep a cool head. The cabin door opening made him as tense as a bow string. Watching Smee pad across the room, Peter could only see his sandaled feet and listen to the man move around the room, then leave a few minutes later. Relaxing against the hard boards, Peter listened to the ship around him, the creak of the timbers and the cry of gulls outside the window. Soon the long night started to catch up with him as the minutes passed and there was no sign of Hook returning. He could hear Wendy's soft breathing above him, and that, combined with his exhaustion, sent him asleep with his thoughts and feelings still unresolved, his dreams unsettling.

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2/5/07

Chapter: Seventeen - Who's Rescuing Who?

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The Lost Boys were finally reunited with their missing brothers just after dawn the next morning. Harry, Grub, Stretch and Squid arrived footsore and hungry with the sun just rising, their small party accompanied by Tinkerbell and a lone female wolf with a striking pattern of brown and white fur. Crate saw them first and gave a shout, alerting Top Hat and Rat to their friends arrival. Their reunion was noisy and boisterous, Tink and the she-wolf standing to one side while the boys rolled in the dust and whooped fit to bust. At last they settled down to resume their interrupted breakfast amid many grumbles from the Indian's roused from their beds by the ruckus. Harry waved to the wolf who ambled over and settled down beside Grub, the boys' hands instantly delving into the thick fur around the animals neck.

“This is Diz, she's one of the wolves...isn't she pretty?” Grub lisped around a mouthful of porridge.

“Tink says she's the daughter of Lupa, and she's going to be a pet for the Wendy lady.” Harry informed the others.

“Since when do wolves become lap dogs?” Crate sneered, casting the wolf a leery grin. In reply the wolf lifted her muzzle and bared her impressive set of teeth, a soft growl issuing from her throat.

“Diz knows what your sayin' Crate,” Squid informed his fellow Lost Boy, grinning when Crate shifted slightly to put himself further away from where the wolf lay.

“As if we ain't got enough to feed,” Crate grumbled, turning resolutely away and concentrating on his own bowl. Harry handed Grub a bowl of the thick pottage and he in turn placed it in front of the wolf. Diz lapped at the mixture then gulped it down, the boys laughing when she finally raised her head, the mixture liberally smeared all around her muzzle. With a long pink tongue, Diz cleaned herself up then rose to her feet, yipping softly at Grub before padding away towards the center of the village.

“Where's she off to?” asked Top Hat, bending sideways to see around Crate and follow the wolf's progress through the village.

“Diz said she 'as to see the Chief about summit,”Grub informed them, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his incredibly dirty shirt.

“Has Peter found Wendy yet?”asked Stretch, his question leading to a swift updating of events since Peter had left the boys making their way down the mountain.

“And you say Jack Flash is no longer Blackhearted Jack?” Squid asked with some amazement.

“That's a fact,” Crate confirmed. “Lost his memory, according to Peter, and doesn't remember any of his time with the pirates.”

“Nor when he went all screwy neither!” Rat added, smiling at his mates. “E's just as he always was.”

Harry leant forward and asked in a whisper, “what about Tiger Lily?”

“Oh she wanted to gut him, no doubt about that,” Top Hat informed the others, tapping the side of his nose dramatically. “But I saw him go after her, and they must 'ave made up, 'cos she came back smiling.”

“Cor...really?” Stretch asked, “I always said she was sweet on him.”

“Hah!” Crate snorted, “I reckons it's just a ruse to fool us all into trusting him.”

“Do you think so?” asked Top Hat with some surprise. “But surely Peter and the Chief wouldn't be taken in?”

“Peter's got nuffin on his mind but finding this Wendy of his. Hook 'imself could try and pass 'imself off as the King of Spades and they'd think him a jolly good chap!”

“You're funny Crate...the King of Spades...that's a good one!” Stretch laughed, the others joining in and spoiling the effect Crate was looking for. Instead he scowled at his fellow Lost Boys and jumped to his feet.

“It's true, you bunch of block-heads, just you wait an' see.” Angry at them and himself, Crate stomped off, the boys scrambling to their feet and following.

“Hey wait Crate...when do you expect Peter to come back? Did he leave us any orders?”

Crate swung around to address the boys, Tink hovering over their heads and listening in.

“Peter said to meet him at Cannibal Creek come morning, so that's what I'm goin' to do. Coming?”

A chorus of assent greeted his query, the boys suddenly rejuvenated with the thought of seeing Peter again and going on another adventure. Tink hovered overhead and watched as the boys loaded up with weapons and food for the trek, her thoughts torn between staying with the boys or flying immediately to Cannibal Creek to see if Peter was there already. In the end she stayed with the Lost Boys, intrigued in spite of herself to see Jack Flash again and try to figure out if he truly was a reformed person or just putting on an act, as Crate suggested.

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Diz reached the tent of Chief Talagumpa and scratched at the skin door, the braves on either side keeping a wary distance, their weapons held at the ready. Relations between the animals and humans on Neverland were sometimes strained, the wolves often competing with the Indian's for game, the pack usually winning the kill if it came down to a standoff. The tent flap flew back and the Chief stepped out, apparently not surprised to find a female wolf at his door.

“Welcome, daughter of the moon, I have been expecting you.” Talagumpa reached out his hand for the wolf to sniff, Diz performing the greeting before growling and barking at the Indian leader. Talagumpa tilted his head and waved his hand. “Walk with me, and we will discuss what you have been sent to tell me.” Waving away his guards, the Chief started to walk away, the she-wolf trotting to catch up then walking at his side, her muzzle turned towards him, the sound of muted whines and barks accompanying them. The Chief's guards stared after their leader then looked at each other, shrugging their acceptance before resuming their posts outside the tepee once more.

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From the doorway of another tepee, Jack watched the wolf lope off beside Talagumpa and wished he was privy to the conversation. Not that he would have been any the wiser, not being fluent in Wolf himself, but he still would have liked to know what the animal was telling the Chief. He had been awoken by the arrival of the remaining Lost Boys, their noisy breakfast reminding him how long it had been since his meal the night before. Scrambling out of his bedroll, Jack padded across the short distance to the Lost Boy's campfire, helping himself to the last of the pot while he waited for the boys to return. In the distance he saw Tiger Lily emerge from one of the women's tepee's, her long plaits swinging as she straitened up and stretched. As if sensing his regard, she turned her head briefly, pinpointing his locations before tilting her nose into the air and turning her back on him. Jack had to laugh, chuckling to himself as he spooned the last of the pottage into his mouth. It seemed that he didn't have to fear a knife in his back anytime soon, but it behooved him to keep a wary eye on the Princess, nonetheless. He could hear the boys returning and got to his feet, turning to face the newest arrivals who would be curious about him. It was still strange to him that he was looked upon as being an enemy, rather than a friend, his age and maturity somehow advanced in his time spent as Hook's apprentice. For him no time had passed, but it was clear from the looks on the boys faces, that Jack Flash had earnt himself distrust and fear as a pirate. The four latecomers stood back as the others swarmed about the small campfire and gathered up their belongings in readiness for the trek to come. They stared at Jack as if he'd grown an extra head, their eyes wide and curious – in the case of Harry and Grub – suspicious and wary – in the case of Squid and Stretch.

“Hello boys,” Jack greeted them, “nice to see you all together again.”

“Hi Jack...so...um...what they said is true?” asked Harry.

“Depends on what they said, Harry,” Jack slid a glance at the others, who were busy sorting their belongings.

“They said you was back to being Jack Flash,” Grub piped up, sticking a grubby thumb in his mouth and staring at Jack with huge eyes. “ ain'tcha a pirate any more?”

“No...I'm not.”

“But you got big.” Harry pointed out, tilting his head on one side and appraising Jack's height.

“Nearly as tall as Peter,” said Jack, smiling at his former friends. Grub smiled back, as did Harry, but the older boys still regarded their former friend with a degree of reserve. Jack sighed and folded his arms across his chest. “Whatever you think, I guessing you're getting ready to meet Peter at Cannibal Creek.”

“That's right,” Squid answered shortly. “Are you coming?”

“Yes. But don't you boys want to rest before we leave? You've been out all night.”

“We'll go for a bit longer, won't we lad's?” Stretch looked at the two younger boys, Grub stifling a yawn behind his hand before nodding, along with Harry.

“Sure Stretch...no problem.”

“Good. Then let's get moving, the sun's already well up and Peter is expecting us.” Crate hoisted a pack on his back and glared at the others to hurry them up. Jack took the hint and returned to his own tent to collect what few belongings he had. Then he joined the others as they tramped out of the Indian camp and started down the track, Tink keeping pace and fluttering overhead. Not far down the track they were joined by Diz, the she-wolf appearing out of the undergrowth and padding silently along beside them. Rat and Grub raced each other to either side of the wolf, the boys each ruffling the thick fur at the animals neck while glaring at each other in the process.

“Diz is with me,” Grub declared, glaring at Rat, who gleefully stuck out his tongue and remained where he was. Diz allowed the boys to fight over her for a few minutes before turning her head and nipping both of them, scolding them with several short barks before carrying on. Jack was bringing up the rear and didn't see the figure waiting for them at the turn of the path. Only when one of the boys hailed Tiger Lily did his head come up and he took notice of what was ahead. The Indian Princess was leaning against a stout tree, her slender brown arms folded over her chest as she waited for the Lost Boys to catch up to her. Crate was in the lead and didn't pause when he drew abreast of her.

“I suppose you want to come too,” he groused, not stopping but stomping past her, scowling horribly. Tiger Lily ignored him, instead exchanging morning greetings with the others as they passed, only joining the party of boys just in front of Jack.

“Good morning Lily,” said Jack, puffing out his chest and grinning at the back of her head. Tiger Lily ignored him, her head held high and her hips swinging. Jack drank in the view and had to chuckle to himself. If it was her idea to torment him into insanity, she was going about it the right way. “To what do we owe the pleasure of ya company?” He finally asked, the silence having stretched for several minutes. Tiger Lily glanced at him over her shoulder.

“I would have thought that was obvious. I'm here to see what's happened to my friend, Wendy.”

“Oh....of course. And Chief Talagumpa approved this? I mean after your last run in with Hook and his pirates, I'd have thought your father would want to keep you close, not let you go gallivanting off into the jungle with just a pack of boys.”

“But I have you to protect me Jack. Don't I? A big strapping pirate like yourself should be more than enough to see off any of Hook's crew,” Tiger Lily replied, still with her back to him. Just ahead of her, Rat and Grub exchanged a meaningful glance and rolled their eyes, acknowledging the strange conversation behind them. Jack sighed and shook his head.

“Oh no Princess. I think I'd rather fight a hundred pirates than face ya father's wrath when he finds out ya snuck out of the village without him knowing. Why don't you save us all a great deal of trouble and just turn around and go home?” Well aware that he was about to get an earful, Jack stuck his fingers in his ears in preparation. True to form, Tiger Lily rounded on him and opened her mouth to give him a scathing retort, only to start laughing at the sight of him walking along the track with his fingers firmly planted in his ears, at the same time grinning at her like a Cheshire Cat.

“You're impossible, Jack Flash...and I can't be bothered talking to you any more.” Turning back to follow the Lost Boy's, she marched ahead, Jack letting out a chuff of laughter, echoed by the birds chattering overhead. The morning tramp through the jungle to Cannibal Creek was accomplished in good time, an hour or two later finding them all sitting on the banks of the sluggishly flowing stream, dabbling their feet and munching on apples supplied by Tiger Lily. Harry and Grub were curled up like puppies, fast asleep, with Squid and Stretch not far away, noisily snoring their heads off. Crate had decided, after a short rest, to go further down the creek to see if Peter was waiting for them, but it was suspected it was more to remove himself from having to listen to Jack and Lily bicker any more.

The sun slowly crept across the sky, the morning passing in to afternoon with still no sign of Peter. Crate had returned and sat running a whetstone up and down his sword with a rasping noise that competed with the birds overhead to make the most noise. Jack sat with his eyes closed leaning against a tree, a bee buzzing sleepily around his head for several circuits before flying an erratic path away into the jungle. The sound of the whetstone suddenly stopped and Jack opened one eye to see Crate sheathing his weapons and hauling on his back pack.

“Goin' somewhere Crate?”

“To find out what's happened to Peter. He was going to ask the Mermaids what's going on, so I reckon I'll go and ask them as well.”

“Sounds like a plan, I'll wake the others.” Getting to his feet, Jack approached the still sleeping Lost boy's and toed them awake. With everyone on their feet, they marshaled their small band in to a column and started off once more, this time following the bank of Cannibal Creek until it emptied into the ocean. Tink had disappeared for a short time while the others rested, but she was back now and flitted overhead through the branches, occasionally directing a tinkling query at one of the boys. Diz had also disappeared for a short while, returning at length with a kill which she then devoured, ignoring the looks of disgust on the faces of those who saw her. Now the she-wolf padded behind Crate, the two youngest trotting to keep up and still competing for her attention. Tiger Lily had dropped back and was walking once more ahead of Jack, her supply of fruit half gone from her pack which hung limply down her back. In her hand she carried her bow, the quiver hung from a strap about her waist. Jack eyed the elegant weapon with respect, well aware that Lily was quite possibly the best in her tribe for hitting a target, whether moving or still. Unconsciously he reached down and rubbed a place at the top of his thigh, an old wound there reminding him just how good she was at hitting what she aimed at.

At length they stood on the beach beside the inlet which spilled out it's muddy contents into the bay, clouding the blue water and turning it green. Mangroves had sprouted in the shallow delta, their green branches spreading out and into the equally shallow lagoon, making the shore difficult to navigate with anything other than a canoe. Crate was already pulling the canvas covers of two canoes half buried in the sand, the others quickly helping to reveal the large skin-covered water craft with their paddles tucked away inside.

“I reckon we paddle around to Mermaid Lagoon and ask them what they told Peter.”

“How will that help us Crate?” Stretch asked, never the brightest. Crate snorted and started to pull the canoe towards the lapping waves.

“Then we'll know what Peter knows, won't we.”

“Yeah....but....” Stretch scratched his head, still mystified. This time Jack answered as Crate looked about ready to throw something at the boy.

“Then it figures that whatever they told him, is where he'll be.....see?”

Stretch still looked blank. Jack rolled his eyes. “Just get in the boat Stretch, let us do the thinking.”

“Right you are,” said Stretch, happy lending his weight to pushing the canoe into the water. “But what if Peter comes here, expecting us to be here....and we ain't.”

“He has a point,” said Tiger Lily, putting her bow and arrows into the canoe nearest and climbing aboard. “We should leave someone here to tell Peter what and where we've gone.” To forestall anyone suggesting her, the Princess settled herself into the hull and picked up a paddle. The others looked at Crate and Jack.

“She's right. You and you stay here and watch out for Peter.” Crate stabbed a finger at Grub and Rat, who both protested loudly at missing out on all the fun and adventure. In the end Harry elected to stay on the beach, Diz barking and growling and sitting down on the hot sand beside the Lost Boy, obviously deciding to stay as well.

“That's sorted then. Everyone loaded?” Crate called out a head count. Himself, the Princess, Top Hat and Rat in one boat, Jack, Stretch, Squid and Grub in the other. “Grab a paddles and let's go!”

The small flotilla paddled out across the calm lagoon, heading for the headland and beyond, Harry waving from the beach until they were out of sight. Then he sat down again, the wolf at his side. For a long moment Harry just sat there, one hand buried in the thick fur of the wolf who'd lain down, its pink tongue lolling. Looking down, the boy scratched the animal behind the ears then clambered to his feet.

“Looks like we'll be here awhile. Don't suppose you could catch another of whatever you caught before?” Harry asked Diz, shucking his pack and weapons onto the sand. Diz lifted her muzzle and looked at the boy, her head tilted as if to ask a question. “'Cos I want to get a fire going, and a rabbit would go real nice on a spit for supper.” Harry informed the wolf, bending down and starting to gather sticks. Diz woofed and rose to her feet, nudging the boy before loping off towards the jungle, giving a parting yip over her shoulder before the greenery swallowed her up.

“Hope that meant yes,” Harry muttered, dumping his load of sticks and looking around for rocks to build the fire.

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12/5/07

Chapter: Eighteen – Out of the Frying Pan

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When Peter next awoke it was to find, to his horror, that many hours had passed since he'd hidden beneath Hook's bed. The shackles that Wendy had worn on ankle and wrist were sitting in a heap beside the bed, the cabin devoid of occupants. Long shadows moved across the floorboards as the ship wallowed in a swell, the afternoon sun gilding the dust motes dancing in the air like pixie dust. Feeling cramped, squeezed as he was under the bed frame, Peter listened carefully before attempting to wriggle out of his hiding place. Under his breath he berated himself for sleeping at all, of not being awake to hear what was said between Wendy and Hook, or see what happened. Still cursing, he slowly rose to a crouch, keeping his head level with the edge of the bed, tense and ready to wriggle back into his hidey-hole at the first sign of anyone coming into the cabin. He could hear the drum of feet overhead along with the shouted commands from above, the ship making slow headway despite the relatively calm sea. Feeling bolder, Peter edged away from the bed, his sword and knife drawn, until his hip bumped the large table dominating the center of the room. Plates were scattered over the surface along with pewter jugs, one of which he snagged and put to his lips, drinking deeply. After satisfying his thirst he next grabbed a heel of bread and chewed as he surveyed the cabin. There didn't appear to have been a struggle of any sort and he was glad that Wendy had been relieved of the shackles, a scrap of bandage on the floor catching his eye. So Hook had seen to his prisoner's welfare and dressed her wounds, the thought both welcome and unsettling. Hook was not usually so considerate, but then he'd never had a young female prisoner to account for either. Peter cocked his head to listen again before moving towards the windows, one of which was still open, sunlight pouring through and painting everything it touched with gold. A scraping sound made him whirl, his eyes wide as he braced himself, ready to fight whoever was coming through the door, but the sound proved to come from the outside, not the inside. The shout of sailors manning a jolly boat drifted through the window and drew Peter's attention, a quick peek outside confirming that a boat full of pirates was returning to the Jolly Roger, their oars working to bring them alongside. Once the boat passed, Peter sheathed his knife and sword and prepared to leave via the window and hopefully learn where Hook and Wendy were now by listening to the crew talk. Sidling out onto the window ledge, he made his way around the side of the ship, careful to stay on the shadowed side for the most concealment while he clung just below the level of the deck. The scrape of a boot on the deck made him duck, then he heard Hook's voice and his ears pricked up as he listened to the Captain address one of his crew.

“Is everything prepared?” Hook asked his henchman.

“As you ordered Captain. There be no place anyone can 'ide out there. He'll be in plain sight long 'afore he gets close.”

“Excellent. And your men a placed?”

“As you suggested. They all 'ave a clear shot, and if'n this sea stays calm, it'll be like shooting fish in a barrel.” The man chuckled the thought better off doing so and ended up coughing.

“Very wise, Mister Kegg, it wouldn't pay to be too confident when setting a trap for Peter Pan. He's slippery, like an eel.”

“True Captain, but we've never 'ad a bait so tasty before. I reckons it's foolproof.”

“Your enthusiasm does you credit, Mister Kegg, but I've known other traps fail in the past and they were much cleverer than this. Nevertheless, as you say, the bait is what will ensure this trap works perfectly. Prime your men, Mister Kegg, I'm sure we won't have to wait long before the prize puts in an appearance.”

“Aye, aye Captain.” The man called Kegg left his Captain still standing by the rail, the unseen listener turning over what he'd heard even as Hook whirled and marched away, his heels clicking on the deck plates like nails driven into timber. Peter floated down to the waterline and kept to the shadow of the ship until he reached the prow. There he flew up to perch on the figure head, the better to stare towards the shore and the trap being set for him. A loud rattle and clank of the anchor chain being released presaged the splash of the huge wooden anchor dropping into the sea almost at his feet. The Jolly Roger was surprisingly close to shore, but that didn't surprise Peter once he realized where they were. They were on the other side of the sand spit in a deep water channel called the Galleon's Graveyard, the mast's of sunken ships jutting above the water to mark their final resting place. Many of the wrecks sat on a sandy ledge, accessible at low tide to anyone brave enough to dive them, the ships providing many of the fine things that Hook used to dress his cabin with. Where the ships had come from nobody knew, or what had happened to the crews, their presence taken for granted as one of the mysteries of Neverland. Over the years repeated plundering of the wrecks had made the pirates wealthy beyond their usual means, but with no way to spend the booty, it had lain largely untouched in the hold of the Jolly Roger, or left scattered over the sandy bottom. Beyond the sandy ledge was the deep channel, some of the wrecks pushed over by past storms to vanish into the depths never to be seen again. Despite that, there never seemed to be a shortage of masts to mark where the ships lay. Now the Jolly Roger was anchored only a few feet from the beach, on the edge of the deep water and among the scattered remains of several ships.

A substantial sand dune, unmarred by anything other than wind sculptured furrows, reared up behind the beach. There were no plants or palm trees, the entire spit a single sand dune that shifted and changed it's appearance with each wind storm that passed over and around it. There was no water, only the sea and the sand and the blue, blue sky above. Shielding his eyes, Peter could see some of the pirates had rowed ashore and were walking up and down the beach. Further up the dune a broken spar had been set into the sand and someone was tied to the stake, the flutter of blue fabric identifying the victim as his Wendy, tied as securely as any Judas goat to tempt a Tiger to its doom. It appeared obvious to Peter that Hook must have sent a message to lure Peter to try a rescue, not realizing that his quarry was already close by. It was a small advantage, but one that Peter hoped he could use to get himself and Wendy out of what was looking like an inescapable trap.

A loud grinding noise made Peter lift his head and peer through the superstructure to watch as Long Tom, Hook's weapon of choice, rose majestically out of the hold, the long muzzle pointing towards the beach, the pirates loading it with one of Hook's patented capture nets. Peter remembered an incident in the Black Castle when Hook had nearly succeeded in capturing him then, only a sharp knife changing the outcome at the time. Even so, it had proved, to all who watched, that Peter Pan was not invulnerable to capture, to being plucked right out of the air. Somehow he was going to have to evade the reach of Long Tom, avoid being shot by the trigger happy pirates stationed in the rigging, and rescue Wendy before any of the pirates on the beach either shot him, or them both, or got close enough to fling a net and end the rescue attempt forthwith.

Once more he considered flying away and fetching help, but his eyes were drawn to the small figure in blue tied to the stake. He could no more leave Wendy alone than cut out his heart and feed it to the fishes. A sound drew his attention and he turned, just barely quick enough to see the serrated tip of a large tail disappear below the water's surface. He waited several minutes and was rewarded for his patience by the huge crocodile, that stalked Hook, surfacing only a few feet from the hull of the Jolly Roger, its approach unnoticed by the crew intent on watching the drama on the shore. In silence the creature glided the length of the pirate ship and under the prow where Peter crouched. A trail of bubbles marked its passage as it circled the ship, a dark shadow unseen by the crew laboring to bring their weapons to bear. Peter grinned to himself and started to hatch a plan that incorporated using the crocodile as a diversion. It would be risky, and he could get caught in the animals jaws himself if he wasn't quick enough, but it was a chance he'd have to take.

Under cover of the noise from the ship, Peter slipped off the figurehead and into the calm sea, his drop barely causing a ripple on the surface. Keeping below the water he kicked strongly to reach a wreck sitting in the sand, its timbers strewn across the sea bed with only the remains of the masts like fingers pointing towards the sky. Holding his breath, Peter tethered himself to one of the fingers and turned back, the water extraordinarily clear. He saw a dark shadow pass below the hull of the Jolly Roger and start to come towards him. As he'd suspected, the crocodile had noted the body dropping into the water and was coming to investigate. Peter waited until his lungs were ready to burst then kicked for the surface, the crocodile now making for him, its jaws wide open. Taking a quick breath, Peter ducked below the surface and started to swim towards the shore, still underwater. The croc followed, sure of the snack so close at hand.

With barely an arms length between his kicking feet and the croc's jaws, Peter surfed in on a wave towards where the pirates stood about, their weapons at the ready. Behind him the huge crocodile did the same, its legs tucked tight against its body to enable it to catch the wave and bring it closer to its prey. Peter could almost feel the fetid breath on his legs when the waves dumped him mere seconds in front of the grey-green giant. He launched himself out of the water in front of the startled pirates, hovering in the air for a second, just long enough to allow the crocodile to find its feet in the shallow water and raise its snout to reach him. A scream from one of the pirates drew the huge creatures attention away from the tidbit floating above him, the crocodile emitting a roar before waddling out of the surf, its tail thrashing in anticipation of the meal to come.

The pirates fled in disarray, one man falling in the soft sand, his gun sent flying without firing a shot. Quick as a flash the crocodile was on him, snatching the man up by one leg, his screaming prey flipped over to better fit down the monsters gullet head first, the man's gurgling cried shut off with a snap when the croc shut its massive jaws. Peter ignored the pandemonium below and shot towards the figure tied to the stake, his knife already out and at the ready. He landed behind Wendy and brought his arm down, slashing through the thick rope binding her to the stake. Wendy could only look on with startled eyes, her cries of relief and warning muffled behind a gag, the blood rushing back to her numb arms and hands making tears of pain spike her lashes. In front of her panic had taken over the pirates, the men firing wildly at the advancing crocodile, its blade like tail knocking men over left and right like skittles, the air full of screams, miss-fired shots and the hissing roar of the beast. Peter sliced through all the ropes and grabbed for Wendy's hand, aware of the short window of opportunity afforded by the rampaging croc.

“We have to go now, come on....” He prepared to fly but had to duck instead from a swinging cutlass aimed at his head. Wendy pulled her gag down and screamed as the pirate, braver than his shipmates, engaged Peter in hand to hand combat, ignoring the battle raging only a little further down the beach. Unable to do much more than watch, Wendy heard a loud boom and swung around to stare out to sea. A big plume of smoke partially obscured the deck of the Jolly Roger, the dark mouth of the cannon, Long Tom, staring back at her.

“Peter,” she screamed, pointing out to sea, “ they've fired a cannon at us!” Even as she called out her warning, the shot exploded above their heads and a thick net rained down on the beach, missing Peter and the pirate fighting him and landing on the back of the crocodile like a strange blanket.

“Run Wendy, run!”

“Run where?” Wendy screamed back, seeing nothing but a towering sand dune behind her and the crocodile in front of her. “Peter, look out!” Another loud boom almost drowned out her warning, Peter ducking and sidestepping in time to avoid a second pirate's attack on his flank. The shot once more exploded overhead, this time raining down on the three figures fighting below, Peter narrowly avoiding capture by diving to the side as the net engulfed the other two men in its folds, bringing them down. Wriggling out from under one side, Peter scrambled to his feet and ran to where Wendy stood, armed only with a long piece of driftwood.

The crocodile was pursuing the pirates down the beach, several crushed and half chewed bodies left in its wake. Peter grabbed Wendy's hand and ran in the opposite direction, starting up the steep slope of the sand dune at a steady pace, despite the difficult terrain. Sand all around them started to kick up as the crew of the Jolly Roger took pot-shots at the fleeing pair, peppering the ground all around them. Peter stumbled then carried on, Wendy already puffing with the difficulty of running on loose sand, and up a slope.

Gradually the distance started to widen and less of the shots were finding the sand behind their heels, the top of the dune at last within reach. They threw themselves over the lip of the dune, finding an equally steep slope on the other side so that they tumbled head over heels, sand tossed in all directions until they slid to a halt at the bottom, spitting grit and dizzy, coated in sand from head to foot. They could still hear the screams of the pirates on the beach, together with the boom of smaller cannon fired in an attempt to destroy the reptile, but only succeeding in sending the creature back into the sea and out of range.

Wendy shook herself to get some of the sand out of her hair and dress, the blazing sun hot on her scalp. She could already feel the effects of standing out in the sun too long, her face tight with sunburn, her arms quite pink. Peter still lay on the sand, his chest heaving and his eyes closed. Wendy stood up and stumbled over to him, fear of capture still a possibility if they stayed where they were. Hook was sure to send his men after them and the longer they lingered, the more likely they would be captured within minutes.

“Peter, we have to go.....now!”

“I....know....” Peter opened his eyes and blinked up at her. Slowly he sat up and rose to his feet, wincing but saying nothing. Wendy was looking nervously up at the dune they'd just rolled down, expecting to see and hear the pirates hot on their trail. She didn't notice Peter's wince or see the blood seeping from under the leaves covering his hip and thigh. In the roll down the slope Peter had lost his sword, his knife now his only weapon. Cursing under his breath, he bit down on the pain radiating out from his leg and concentrated on the will to fly. Wendy had turned back and was looking at him for guidance, her eyes huge and scared. The last thing he wanted was for them both to be captured by the pirates, his fate and hers likely to be worse than either of them could possibly imagine in Hooks hands.

Drawing in a deep breath, Peter reached for Wendy's hand and lifted them both into the air just as the first pirate broached the top of the dune, his shout galvanizing Peter into action, flying himself and Wendy higher and away from the dune to another that loomed impossibly high for a pile of sand. Behind them they heard the crack of musket shot as other pirates reached the ridge and started to fire at them, a burning piece of lead slicing a searing path across Peter's shoulder making him cry out and drop several feet.

“Peter...Peter....are you shot?” Wendy cried in alarm as Peter dropped lower and lower, the top of the next dune looming closer every second. If they didn't rise soon they'd crash into its side. “Peter we must fly higher!!”

In a haze of pain Peter heard her and called on his fairy magic, lifting them both over the dune and on to safety. Out of sight of the pirates now, he flew to the left along the valley between two dunes, then over another in a twisting path that put more and more distance between themselves and their pursuers. All around them shone a seemingly endless desert of yellow sand, the sky a brilliant, cloudless blue overhead. Only in the distance was there any hint that this was only another part of Neverland, the lush green of the jungle beckoning them onwards. Suddenly Peter let out a groan and started to fall, Wendy, still gripping his hand, falling with him.

“Peter....what's happening??” The ground was rushing up towards them, Peter unable to maintain flight through the haze of pain blurring his vision.

“I'm sorry Wendy....I can't.....I'm sorry.” Peter groaned again, doubling up from agony, all power of flight gone. The sand was a blur as they fell towards earth, the ground an unyielding expanse of white and as hard as ice to Wendy's horrified eyes. Fortunately they fell at such an angle that they glanced off the slope of a dune and started instantly to tumble and slide in a tidal wave of dust and sand. As before they ended up at the bottom, this time half covered by the landslide pouring down on them. Wendy coughed and covered her head with her arms to keep the sand from burying her head. Peter wasn't so lucky, his body half hidden with more sand cascading on him with each passing second. Wading out of her sand drift, Wendy clambered over to where Peter lay, her fingers digging into the sand to uncover him.

“Why aren't you moving? What's happened?” As quickly as possible she dug him free, pulling on one arm to free him from the clinging sand, his body sliding out easily once she freed him, his face white with dust along with the rest of him. She dragged him by the arm until she stood on the flat valley bottom, the sand still falling in tiny rivulets behind her. Here she rolled Peter on to his side and gasped when she saw the blood caked on his back and down his leg.

“Oh no...oh Peter, why didn't you say anything.” Suddenly the vividness of her dream from the cave sprung into her mind, the image of Peter's battered and bloody body at her feet, the destruction of Neverland all around her. “NO! I won't let it happen.....you won't die!” Dashing away the tears threatening to choke her, Wendy knelt beside Peter and carefully cleaned his face free of sand with the hem of her dress.

“Please wake up Peter.....please wake up,” Wendy called to him, sitting so that her shadow created some shade for Peter from the burning sun. As if complying with her unspoken wish the sun went behind a cloud, the instant drop in temperature very welcome. Looking up, Wendy shaded her eyes and stared at the sky, a frisson of alarm running down her back when she noticed just how black the clouds looked and how fast they were gathering. “Oh no....”

Looking around her she tried to see anything she could use to drag Peter. They were sitting in the valley between two of the largest dunes she'd seen so far, the flat bottom showing signs of a long dried up water course right where she sat. It stood to reason that if it rained on this desert the water had to go somewhere, the only problem being that she and Peter were now sitting right were a flood would shortly be raging, if the black clouds dropped their load over the sand spit. Galvanized into action, Wendy stripped off her long, cotton petticoat from under her skirt and lay it down on the ground. Despite her attempts to rouse him, Peter remained unconscious to Wendy's cries and shakes. Giving up she rolled him on to the voluminous petticoat, his legs hanging off the end. Bending over, she grasped the waistband near his head and started to tug at the material, the sand for once aiding her efforts by making the cloth slide easily over the surface. Even so it was hard work and despite the lack of sun, Wendy was soon sweating heavily, her back aching as she tried to pull Peter to safety. Overhead the sky continued to darken ominously, the blue sky obscured by towering cumulus cloud bulging with rain. The wind was starting to pick up as well, whipping Wendy's skirt about her legs as she continued to pull and tug Peter towards safety and out of the way of the coming flood. Just when her arms seemed to be pulled out of their sockets and her back about to break an eerie sound floated to her on the breeze, the rising howl of the wind unable to mask the distant call of a wolf. Wendy paused in her efforts and listened, the call coming again, this time closer. Thinking of the friendly brown and white wolf she'd met before entering the cave of dreams, Wendy hoped and prayed it was the same animal somehow come to their aid. Turning her back, she continued to pull Peter on the petticoat along the ground. They were nearing the end of the gully when the first fat drops of the approaching storm splattered in the sand. Near despair, Wendy felt like screaming at the sky as more droplets fell, darkening the ground and washing some of the dust off Peter's body leaving streaks behind. Unable to pull anymore, Wendy sat down abruptly as the skies opened and it rained in a continuous sheet, soaking her in seconds.

So absorbed in shock she didn't notice the press of the cold nose against her arm at first. Only when teeth nipped her back into awareness did she realize she was surrounded by a pack of wolves, their coloring all a variation of brown and white, their liquid eyes watching her intently. Having got her attention, the one that had nipped her started to bark and whine, it's coat hardly dampened by the downpour. Wendy stared stupidly at the creature for a second before struggling to her feet, grabbing at the petticoat and preparing to pull it and its burden once more. Before she could lay a finger on it she was pushed away by several eager bodies, the wolves grasping the material in their jaws and taking over the job of pulling Peter along the ground much faster than Wendy could ever hope to manage. Soaked to the skin and shivering, Wendy gratefully followed the animals out of the gully and over a shallow sand dune, the other side revealing the edge of the jungle only a short distance away. Wendy glanced back before they crossed the ridge and saw that the wide gully they'd been in was already under several inches of water, the current flowing fast as it carried the excess rain water away from the desert towards the thirsty jungle and the sea. Turning way she hurried after the wolves, too grateful for their help to wonder how the animals had known Peter was in trouble, or how they'd reached her from so far away, so quickly.

The jungle loomed thick and impenetrable in front of them, the she-wolfs barely pausing as they dragged Peter onwards, swallowed up by the shadows between the trees with Wendy and the rest of the pack following behind. In the sudden gloom of the forest, Wendy was glad the wolves had white fur, their wagging tails acting like torches guiding her through the thick bush along a path that only just warranted the description. The rain had stopped almost as soon as they entered the jungle, something Wendy was very glad of as she tramped across the damp ground, following the pack. The leaders had stopped up ahead and she tried to see why, peering at the thick foliage around her.

“Why have we stopped?” She asked, taking a step forward. One of the wolves snarled and snapped at her, stopping her tentative step in its tracks. “What...why can't I go forward?” She asked, getting no real reply, only another snap and a bark for her pains. The lead dogs were still dragging Peter forward on the now ruined petticoat, the rest remaining to keep Wendy where she was. Every time she moved, one of the she-wolfs would move to block her until she wanted to scream in frustration.

“Please...where are they taking him? Why can't I be with him?” She asked the animals, her hands outspread to show she didn't mean them any harm. The wolves ignored her pleas until a series of barks make them step back and allow Wendy passage forward once more. Glancing warily at the animals, Wendy walked the short distance to where she'd seen them take Peter, the bush quite thick so that she had to push through. On the other side she saw a small glade with a pool at the center, steam rising from the surface in a thick cloud indicating it was a hot spring. At the edge the wolves had dragged Peter to a flat rock-like ramp and were busy nudging his body over on to his side. When Wendy pushed through the hedge of vegetation she only had time to see Peter rolled into the pool, his body disappearing under the water with a faint splash.

“Peter!!” Rushing forward, Wendy looked down in horror at Peter's body floating face down in the steaming water. Without hesitating she plunged in and, despite her painfully tired arms, wrapped them around Peter and hauled him upright, his head coming clear of the water, while the rest of him lay under the surface, his leaves already starting to slough off, his blood turning the water pink around her. Wendy stared helplessly at the wolves now gathered at the edge of the spring, their expressive brown eyes watching her as she struggled to hold Peter's head above water.

“Why did you do this?” She stared at the blood coloring the water. “How can I help him, what can I do?” she begged, the warmth of the water sapping her limited strength and making her feel drowsy. Peter now floated, his body free of its leafy covering, only his weapons belt still around his waist. Ignoring the embarrassment of holding a very naked young man in her arms, Wendy fumbled with the belt and pulled it off, using one hand to toss it on to the bank, where one of the wolves collected it and carried it away. Slowly she maneuvered Peter closer to the edge so that she could sit down in the shallows, his body floating slack in her arms as if asleep. She turned her head to regard the wolf nearest to her, the animal staring back at her, its mouth open as if smiling approval of her actions. To weary to argue, Wendy nodded to the wolf and shifted to a more comfortable position, the water washing away some of the grime and sand coating her from head to toe.

Once more, with the hem of her soaked dress, she washed Peter's face, combing her fingers through his hair to release the sand clinging to his scalp. The rest of his body was now completely bare of leaves, weapons or anything, the water no longer tinged pink. She didn't know how or where he was injured, only that for some reason the wolves have brought him here, possibly because the spring was somehow magic and able to help him recover from his wounds. She fervently hoped she was right, her knowledge of medical matters sketchy at best. She felt her head droop from exhaustion and the heat, the air all around her moist and scented.

On the bank the wolves were laying down, heads on paws waiting for what, Wendy didn't know, she was just grateful for their company. Peter remained half floating in the water, his head resting heavily on her tired arm, his eyes still firmly closed. With her free hand Wendy tugged the cloth gag loose from around her neck, using the fabric to wash her own face and sluice water over her sand caked hair. She felt uncomfortable in her dress, gritty dust making it chafe and rub her skin raw. As Peter seemed to be floating freely, she slowly withdrew her arm, keeping an eye on him in case he started to sink. Instead, he just remained buoyed up, the steam lending a ghostly haze across the surface of the pond. Satisfied that he wasn't about to drown, Wendy reached behind herself to unbutton the dress, her eyes never leaving Peter's face for a moment, ready to reach for him if he awoke or started to roll. After a few seconds nothing happened and she continued to disrobe, shucking the bodice down to her waist, the thin shift underneath almost transparent in its soaked state. Standing up in the shallows Wendy pushed the skirt over her hips and off, carefully swishing it in the water to wash out the sand and grit which had turned its former blue to almost grey. With her dress washed she tossed the wet bundle on to the grass and ducked once more under the water, only her head and shoulders visible above the steamy surface. Peter had stayed where she'd left him, his hair slicked back from his face, his features looking impossibly young in repose. Still keeping half an eye on him, Wendy proceeded to dunk her head under the water to rinse her sadly neglected hair. The rain had washed a lot of the sand out but her scalp felt itchy, the water of the pool getting the last of the dust and grime out and leaving her hair squeaky clean once more.

Peter had drifted with the waves created by her impromptu bath, so Wendy waded deeper into the pool, the steam curling around her like cool fingers, the bank becoming obscured from view the further in she advanced. Reaching Peter, she reached out to gather him close but somehow he was once more out of her reach, forcing her deeper so that when she looked over her shoulder she couldn't see the bank or the wolves at all. A little alarmed, she reached out and caught Peter's arm, drawing him back to her, his head coming to rest on her shoulder as she stood almost up to her chin in the water.

“Please wake up Peter......please,” she whispered, her lips against his ear while she wished with all her might that whatever power the waters possessed would help him get better. Her toes sank into the soft silt coating the bottom of the mysterious pool, the water remaining at the same depth as she slowly pushed her way through warm liquid, steam obscuring everything beyond the reach of her arm. The world seemed encased in a moving white cloud, all sound muffled apart from the drip of water and the ripples created as she moved. Even her own breathing seemed loud in the strange light, Peter a heavy weight against her shoulder, the steady rise and fall of his chest her only comfort.

Everything had been so hectic she'd hardly had time to think of anything, certainly not what might have happened when Peter awoke to find her gone and the cabin empty. Certainly she had been in fear of her life when Hook had returned to find her still asleep, his rough shaking jolting her from a pleasant dream of Peter and kisses and fairies dancing on the air. In their place she found herself staring up at Captain James Hook, his saturnine features glaring at her in anger.

“Give you an inch and your take a yard-arm, ungrateful wench!” Yanking at the chain, Hook catapulted Wendy off his bed and back onto the floorboards, her yelp as the chain pulled on her sore wrist and ankle making him acutely aware of the unnecessary discomfort he'd put her too. “Sit still baggage, so I can take off these manacles...there's no-one to rescue you and no where to run, so don't even think of it...savvy?”

“Er...yes...I mean savvy.” Wendy answered, physically restraining herself from staring at the underneath of Hook's bed as she held out her foot and hand for Hook to unlock the metal cuffs. Freed of the cold, hard restraints, she found herself hauled roughly to her feet and almost dragged over to the table, only to be dumped on one of the chairs and told to be still. More than happy to comply, Wendy kept her eyes firmly to the front, not once glancing back at the bed. Hook brought over a small chest and placed it in front of her, flipping back the lid and negligently indicating the bottles and other medical paraphernalia inside.

“Make use of the ointment and bind up your wrist. It'll have to do until I can get you some healing water. Don't want that pretty skin marked unnecessarily,” Hook leered over her, watching for a moment while she sorted through the small chest and took out the glass bottle he indicated. Only after she had bound her wrist with a strip of clean linen did he snap the lid shut and carry the chest back to wherever he found it. At that moment the cabin door opened and Smee appeared with a laden tray which he set down and proceeded to lay about the table in a haphazard manner before being chivvied away by Hook. “Breakfast m'dear. Eat up.”

Having little appetite and acutely conscious that Peter was only a foot or two away, Wendy ate sparingly, nibbling at the bread rolls and sipping the fruit juice provided. Hook watched her every move, like a sparrow hawk eyeing its prey, making Wendy very nervous and disinclined to eat more.

“Ya couldn't keep a bilge rat alive on what you eat,” Hook scoffed, pushing his own plate away and wiping his mouth on an embroidered napkin.

“I'm not very hungry,” Wendy explained, keeping her eyes downcast, her hands in her lap, the picture of innocent modesty.

“Decided to play the wilting violet today? Well, damn your eyes, I've a mind to see if those lips still taste as sweet as the flower you pretend to be!”

Wendy immediately tensed, her eyes opening wide as Hook rose towering over her. “Don't touch me.”

“I'll touch what I damn well please,” Hook retorted, his eyes taking on a reddish gleam. “No milk and water miss tells James Hook what he can and can't do!” He reached for Wendy, but she scooted back out of reach, snatching up a butter knife and waving it in front of her in defense. Her antagonist just laughed, his former anger turning to mirth at her feeble attempt to fend him off. Instead of advancing, he left her standing as she was, her arm extended, the silver knife wavering as she held him at bay.

“A brave offensive, but doomed, m'dear. Now drop the knife and come with me. Smee'll be back shortly to clear this mess up.” Hook held out his hand, palm up, and waited for her to comply.

Knowing the futility of her gesture, Wendy dropped the knife back on the table and folded her arms over her chest, her shoulders hunched. Hook's lips thinned and he lowered his hand. “As you wish. If we're done with the amateur dramatics, I'll thank you to go precede me out of the cabin and up on deck.” He waved her forward, his expression mocking.

Without a word, Wendy did as he asked, not once glancing at the bed and its hidden occupant, her lips moving in a silent prayer of thanks that Peter hadn't rushed to her defense in some futile act of gallantry. Not that she doubted that Peter could give a good account of himself, but she didn't want him to be hurt on her behalf, sure that Hook would wreak a terrible retribution if the rescue attempt failed, as Wendy suspected it would. She left the cabin ahead of the pirate Captain and made her way up the stairs, glad that Peter remained safe and undetected under the bed. She suspected that her erstwhile rescuer had in fact fallen asleep after his long night searching for her. She even took a moment to congratulate herself in not causing more of a scene and awakening Peter, his sleep-groggy state sure to mean that he'd be captured at once. Happy that his safety was now assured, Wendy went out onto the deck of the Jolly Roger with a much lighter step than one would expect from a captive unaware of the fate awaiting her.

The crew of the ship swarmed all over the rigging and deck, ignoring the girl in the blue dress with a marked absorption in their duties. Beyond the ship loomed a bay, the water broken in several places by dark spires like broken spears jutting out of the sea. Around the edge of the bay was a seemingly endless landscape of sculptured sand, towering dunes dominating the horizon, the surface shimmering with the heat of the sun. The sailors were lowering a boat over the side and Hook steered her towards the railing. Wendy watched for a moment, her thoughts all on Peter, and little on her own fate.

“Swing over the bosun's chair,” came a shouted order, the simple contraption of rope and a short plant swinging into view, another sailor bringing it to hang close to where Wendy stood.

“Climb aboard your chariot, m'dear. You fate awaits yonder.” Hook indicated the beach and Wendy now saw that more pirates were already ashore, the distant sound of hammering drawing her attention to the stake being driven into the sand a little way from the waters edge. Even as she opened her mouth to ask what was happening, a length of cloth was tied around her face, gagging her efficiently, her hands for the moment left free. Rough fingers hoisted her aboard the bosun's swing, her fingers clutching at the ropes just as the sailors hauled away and the swing shot up into the air, carrying Wendy with it. Her muffled screams of surprise and fear were ignored as they lowered her to the boat waiting below, the pirate's binding her hands as soon as she was deposited amidships. Without further ado, she was rowed the short distance to shore and carried out of the boat over to the stake. Bewildered by the speed of events, Wendy could do nothing to stop the men tying her to the stake like a sacrificial lamb, the sun already making her feel hot and uncomfortable, the men working around her looking sticky and cross and impervious to pity. Secured, she could only watch and wait, the men speaking little as they prepared their weapons in readiness for the ambush they seemed confident would snare them their prey, one Peter Pan. Little did they realize that their quarry was already at hand and hidden aboard their own ship. This one fact gave Wendy hope as the sun beat down on her unprotected head, the sand hot beneath her bare feet. She had no idea how much time passed before a commotion at the waters edge drew her head up, her eyes widening when she saw Peter hovering just above the wavelets, the pirates rushing forward only to fall back when a huge crocodile lurched out of the water and advanced up the beach. Her joy at seeing Peter was tempered by knowing that he was entering a trap, his lack of greeting after cutting her bonds understandable given the chaos being wreaked by the crocodile running amuck amongst the pirates. It was a nightmare scene she hoped she would be able to forget before too long, not wanting to revisit her rescue and the horror of facing the monstrous beast devastating the pirates, ever again.

Now she stood up to her neck in warm water, steam curling about her head and Peter a dead weight on her shoulder. The shore was nowhere in sight now, the silt squishing up between her toes as she shuffled forward, only the ripple of the water around her to break the silence. It was as if she'd entered a world far beyond reality.

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30/5/07

Chapter: Nineteen - Far from the Madding Crowd

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He was floating, his body suspended and surrounded in warmth, his limbs supported and cradled in silky liquid that lapped and stroked his flesh in ways that raised goosebumps on his arms. Slowly he opened his eyes and stared up, into a world wreathed in spiraling tendrils of steam, the trees far above indistinct, shafts of sunlights failing to do more than give the air a ethereal glow. Blinking, he stayed as he was, staring up into nothing, his body floating free as if encased in the softest feather bed. As the seconds ticked by he started to frown, memory intruding and reminding him that he'd been shot trying to escape from Hook and his men, that someone had been with him, his last memory of them both plunging towards a massive dune, a scream following him into the darkness.

“Wendy!” In the blink of an eye Peter Pan went from soothing lassitude to fierce tension, his limbs thrashing to bring him upright in the warm pool of steaming water around him. Disorientated, he ran his hands over his body, finding a puckered scar where the musket ball had buried itself in his thigh, another quick check revealing that the long crease across his shoulders had left nothing to mar the smooth skin across his back. “I'm in a healing pool.” Astonished that Wendy would even know about such things, let alone be able to find one, Peter couldn't help grinning at his own good fortune, his hands raking through his hair as he turned full circle looking for his rescuer. “Wendy?” All around him the steam continued to waft up into the air, Peter unable to see much beyond the reach of his arm, the water unbroken in all directions. Looking up he tried to gage the position of the sun, but the canopy and dense fog made that task impossible. Deciding that action was better than just waiting, Peter struck out across the pond, swimming strongly in a direction he hoped would bring him to a bank and maybe some answers. He felt invigorated and full of energy, his arms and legs stroking strongly through the still water, a darker shadow indicating that he was surely approaching the edge of the pond, a few final kicks bringing him to shore. Still there was no sound of anyone nearby, even the birds remaining silent as he rose to his feet and walked out of the healing pool, water streaming off his naked limbs. The forest around him started to appear out of the mist, the vegetation glistening with moisture, the sun becoming brighter the longer he remained out of the pond. A shaft of sunlight pierced the fog and shone down on the ground, highlighting a circle of lush turf, a figure curled up at it's center.

“Wendy!” Peter's relieved shout didn't rouse the girl laying on her side, her arm tucked under her head for a pillow. Peter dropped to his knees beside her, his eyes sweeping up and down her form, checking for injuries or any reason other than sleep for her to be laying on the ground. She looked peaceful, her arms relaxed, her free hand laying on the soft grass palm up, the fingers open. Taking that hand into his own, Peter raised it to his lips and softly kissed it, glad to feel warmth in her touch, Wendy obviously very much alive and uninjured. His gaze roamed over her features, noting the way her lashes rested on her cheeks, her lips half parted with the peep of white teeth behind. Her cheeks were tinged with pink, a curl of her hair laying softly against her jaw, his finger finding the errant lock and brushing it back. Keeping her hand trapped with one of his own, he let his free hand explore, stroking her hair, then down her cheek, pausing to rest over the pulse in her throat, acknowledging the beat of life flowing through her. She looked so fragile and vulnerable, but somehow she had managed to bring them both to a place of sanctuary after enduring capture at the hands of the pirates, and the unwanted attentions of Captain Hook in the process. Now more than ever he wanted her to stay with him and be his Queen of Neverland. As his fingers trailed over her warm skin around the neckline of her thin shift, he felt an upsurge of emotion, his heart feeling full to bursting with something wanting to break free, no longer wanting to be denied or suppressed, his body humming with expectation and want. More than anything he wanted to see her lashes lift so he could drown in her sky blue eyes again, his own bright with excitement and anticipation. He had never felt such a strong emotion before, the closest he could equate was when he'd been in the midst of a fierce battle, his blood singing and his body flowing with the force of the blows traded between him and Hook, the exhilaration of a rousing fight making him laugh in the face of danger, sure of his ability to win the day and carry all before him. What he felt for this one girl was similar but so much more, his heart pounding and his mouth dry as he gave in to the feelings swamping him. Nothing and no one made him feel this way except this girl, his Wendy, and he wanted to shout it out loud, his body so tense he was almost shaking.

As if able to hear his unspoken thoughts, his yearning, Wendy's eyes slowly opened, the thick lashes blinking once, then twice as she gazed sleepily up at him. A slow smile curled her lips at the corners, the smile echoed by Peter until his widened to a blinding grin. He still held her hand in his, her fingers now pressed against his chest over his heart, its pounding felt through the layers of muscle and skin. Keeping her held there, he slowly lowered himself to the grass, stretching out his long body beside her, the sun warm on his flank. Wendy watched him, her eyes fixed on his, her fingers curling under his to stroke the velvet soft skin so warm and alive to her touch.

“Wendy...” Peter whispered, his gaze intent on hers while he bridged the short gap between them, his lips finding hers in a soft kiss before pulling away.

Wendy thought she must be dreaming, awakening to find a handsome young god laying down beside her, the air still misty and magical, a single shaft of sunlight illuminating his head into a golden riot of curls, almost blinding in their brilliance. Then the light vanished as his head shaded her vision, his lips, so warm and compelling finding hers in a chaste kiss that left her feeling like wax melting before a flame. All too soon the kiss was over and she found her gaze drawn back to his, drowning without reservation in his ocean colored eyes, their sparkle as bright as stars.

“Peter?”

“Yes Wendy?”

“I've decided.......to stay here...here with you...”

“You have?”

“I have.....if you want me to.”

“I want you to.”

For a second time, Peter lowered his head and captured her lips with his own, the kiss lasting longer this time, pleasant tingles starting to chase each other over Wendy's body, parts of her starting to ache with a pleasurable pulse. Peter released her fingers, allowing her to smooth her palm over the skin stretched over his chest and up to his shoulder, the texture like sun-warmed silk under her finger tips. While lips slanted and explored over and over again, fingers and hands explored sensitive flesh, Wendy finding hard muscles beneath the gold skin, Peter marveling at how soft her skin was, her shape fitting against his as if made just for him. Pulling apart, they stared at each other in wonder, chests heaving as lungs tried to draw in a breath.

“I've never felt this way about anyone,” he whispered, pulling Wendy into a close hug, his cheek against her hair. Enfolded in his arms, Wendy felt completely safe, all the confusion and terrors of recent events forgotten in the surge of sensations firing her nerve endings and making her flush with heat from her scalp to her toes. Wanting more, she wrapped her arms around him, loving the feeling of closeness and intimacy, their bodies only separated by her thin shift. Peter was kissing his way back to her mouth, his lips hot and urgent against her skin, his hands smoothing over the fabric covering her body, Wendy eagerly pushing against him to bring them closer.

“Do you truly want this?” Peter asked, his breathing labored and his heart pounding. Wendy stared back at him, her eyes bright.

“More than anything I've ever wanted before.” Threading her fingers into his hair, she drew his head back down, her lips parting to allow him access inside, their tongues meeting and dancing, entwining in a new intimacy that sent tremors down their spines. Heat bloomed everywhere they touched, Wendy squirming to bring him closer, Peter holding her so tight nothing could have been passed between them. With his control slipping, Peter pulled back, releasing Wendy from the kiss and allowing them both to catch their breaths.

“Wendy.....will you...will you....” Peter gasped, his body demanding he do more than just share his kisses with the girl plastered against him.

“Will I what,” Wendy managed to get out, her questing hand suddenly grasped by Peter and guided down his body. To her everlasting surprise, she felt no shame in wrapping her fingers around the hardened flesh they encountered, her gentle touch bringing a hissing gasp to Peter's lips, his neck taut with straining tendons as she tentatively stroked him.

“Will you be....” Fighting hard not to become completely distracted by what she was doing to him, Peter gritted his teeth and plowed on. “Will you be my......” a squeeze of Wendy's fingers made him incoherent, sparks igniting behind his eyes and a growl issuing from his throat.

“Yes Peter, my love.....I will.” Biting her bottom lip, Wendy administered a long, final stroke before Peter snatched her hand away and pinned it to the grass behind her head.

“And I will be yours, Wendy Darling, for ever and a day.” Having made his declaration, Peter sealed it with a kiss, his body shaking with desire and need. Wendy was in little better condition, her breathing hectic, her face flushed and her body aching unbearable. Using her hands to push against Peter's chest, she made him sit up. While he looked on in some confusion, she sat up as well, rising to her knees and pulling her shift over her legs to bunch around her waist. Feeling a blush suffuse her whole body, she grasped the hem in both hands and whisked it over her head and away, bearing herself to him, her hair falling down in glorious profusion about her face and shoulders. For a minute neither moved or spoke, Peter in awe of seeing her, Wendy too overcome with shyness to utter a sound.

“You're beautiful,” Peter finally managed to say, his hand finding the curve of her cheek, feeling the heat in her skin as he leant in to kiss her.

“I've never.....with anyone else.....I don't know how.” Wendy whispered, her breathing erratic.

For a second they stared at each other, the decision hanging in the air before them. Then Peter smiled and Wendy smiled back.

“Neither have I....but we have all the time in Neverland to find out.” Leaning forward again, this time together, they met in the middle with their lips, arms and bodies following until they lay entwined on the soft ground, the scent of crushed grass mixing with the exotic scents of the steaming jungle around them.

This time there was no coy hesitation, no drawing back or reserve between them. Together they forged a path of desire, skin coming alive under gentle caresses, legs parting to allow the most intimate of joining, lungs straining to draw in enough breath before sensation carried them away to paradise.

With her legs wrapped around his waist and shudders of pleasure coursing down her spine, Wendy Darling bid goodbye to the last shreds of her innocence, her heart beating in time with the young man seated most firmly inside her, his flesh joined with hers in an unbreakable bond. Slowly, very slowly muscles started to relax as fingers ceased to clutch at flesh so urgently locked in passion. Hearts started to slow, they rhythm going from a gallop to a steady beat as soft kisses and murmured words brought them both down from the heavens to land gently back upon Neverland soil once more. Salty, slick skin responded with goosebumps to the damp air still swirly around, the sun now invisible beyond the canopy overhead. Unable to bear the thought of parting, they lay as one, Peter's head resting in its natural place against her shoulder, Wendy's hand stroking the tousled curls, now damp with sweat, back from his brow before tracing one winged brow across his forehead.

“I love you,” Peter breathed against the pulse beating under her skin, “I've always wanted to know what that word meant, having heard it said so often in both your world and mine. Now I know...”

“I love you too...” Wendy sighed, her body welcoming his as a warm blanket against the slight chill, her contented sighs drawing his attention back to her chest, rising and falling before his eyes. Fascinated to simply watch her breath, Peter traced a loving finger over the delicate flesh of her breast, his own flesh already hard again despite being fully satisfied only minutes before. He moved and caught a wince pass over Wendy's face.

“Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?” He made to withdraw at once, but Wendy clutched at him, keeping him within her, her lips smiling at his concern.

“It was to be expected Peter, and I had been told there would be some....discomfort.”

“I did hurt you. You should have told me to stop.”

“I could no more ask you to stop than expect the sun not to rise. I wanted this too, Peter, and I don't regret that.”

“But...” He found her fingers stopping his lips from uttering more words.

“I can feel you Peter, inside me and against me, in my heart and in my body. I wanted this, as much as you, maybe more so. What pain there might have been is gone and I think....” She wriggled beneath him, making him tense and bit his bottom lip. “I think we could try again, if you feel up to it.....just go a little more slowly this time.”

“Whatever you wish, my Wendy, my Queen.”

This time the loving was slow and gentle, their movements a less frantic race to completion, so that Wendy forgot all about any discomfort, instead throwing her head back and crying out his name as passion once more tossed her up to the clouds, safe and secure in his arms until his kisses brought her back, her body and mind relaxed and complete, the lovers falling asleep in each others embrace, both in awe and satisfaction that the future appeared once more to be on the right path.

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31/5/07

Chapter: Twenty - When Enemies Conspire...

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Wendy stared up at the steam wreathed foliage above their heads and let her mind drift. Peter was a warm, heavy weight across her torso, his arm trapping her against the crushed grass, his breathing puffing the hair away from her cheek with each exhale. Images and sensations flashed through her mind, the taste of his mouth, the rough callouses on his hand smoothing over her skin, the incredible feeling of having another human being get closer than anyone she'd ever known before. That she'd passed over the ephemeral barrier between girlhood and womanhood was both exciting and overwhelming, the consuming passion of the physical act almost as insubstantial as a vivid dream, only the ache between her legs confirming otherwise. She would dearly love to believe that she was still in one of the dreams woven during her time in the cave, the clarity of the visions as real as reality itself. Could this just be an extension of what she's seen and done there? Was it really possible that she'd thrown every tenet and rule that she'd been taught by her mother, by society, by her own common sense out the window? It would appear that she had, and all for the love of a youth who was more magic than mere flesh and blood, his world of Neverland a place where mortal wounds could be healed in a fragrant pool, and giant crocodiles wreaked havoc on a sandy beach. If this was real, surely she'd be hardly able to move, her arms and shoulders in agony from hauling Peter's insensible body across the burning sands, and wouldn't she have put up more of a resistance, asked more questions than simply offer herself up like a sacrifice with nothing more profound than “I will.”

Did those simple words mean she was married to Peter Pan? How absurd. She was certainly fascinated by him, by the magic in everything around him, of the exotic world he lived in, but did she really think that she could live here too? In the moment, half awake, dreamy with sleep, it had all seemed so right, so fated to happen this way, but now she had doubts. She wasn't so sure that her actions were entirely rational or remotely sensible. Why did she fight him so hard before if she was going to give in so easily. Surely one didn't fall in love with someone without getting to know them first, have a courtship, a romance. Thinking back she wondered what madness held her in it's thrall to so blind her and lead her to where she was now. All her life she had longed for adventure, had read about daring exploits and heroic quests, where a hero rescued a heroine and they lived happily ever after. But all those childhood stories didn't tell you what happened after the end, didn't detail how one was supposed to feel, or act or say beyond the comfortable resolution. She was past that point now and had no one to guide her forward, her feeling no longer to be trusted, her resolve apparently paper thin to allow Peter such an easy breach of her defenses. Did this mean she was all grown up now?

“What are you thinking?”

Wendy gave a start and turned her head to meet Peter's clear gaze. “Nothing important.”

“You're frowning.”

“Am I?” She consciously relaxed her face, the frown line disappearing between her troubled eyes. “Peter?”

“Yes.”

“What are you feeling.....right now, at this moment?”

“I'm feeling....well.....good. Happy. Aren't you?”

“I guess so....I just wasn't...I mean, I didn't expect that we would....” she raised a hand and waved it vaguely. Peter frowned, not understanding what she was trying to say.

“Are you not happy Wendy?”

“I....I'm not...unhappy. I just....oh Peter, I don't know what to feel. I thought it was all so simple before...you saved me, I saved you, the dream didn't come true..”

“What dream?”

“When I was in the Cave of Dreams I saw several visions. Some were, I think, possible futures depending on the decisions I made. Some were good...but mostly they were not nice visions, dreams. One was quite horrible.”

“What happened in that one?”

Images chased themselves through Wendy's head, her heart rate increasing and tears pricking at her eyes. “I was too late to save you.”

“I died?” With his eyebrows climbing his brow, Peter hitched himself onto his elbow and stared down at her. “You killed me?”

“No....not me, not really. It was Hook. Then all of Neverland disappeared and there was nothing here.”

“I think you ate too many of those berries at the feast.” Peter gave her a rueful grin, patently disbelieving. “I'm not dead Wendy, in fact very much alive. See?” He pulled her hand over and placed it over his chest, his heart thumping reassuringly under her fingers, his mouth pulled into a lopsided grin. Wendy smiled back, the details of the vision already fading, only disjointed wisps remaining to tease her memory.

“Of course you're not dead Peter....and I'm glad we found the pool in time to save you.”

“We?”

“The she-wolves, remember? They found us in the desert and dragged you here. I was so shocked at first when they rolled you into the pool, I didn't understand then.” She fidgeted a little, “I'm certainly glad there are such wondrous things here, or I'd be as stiff as a post for sure.” Stretching her arms above her head she spread her fingers to flex them.

As if summoned by having their name simply mentioned, the she-wolves appeared from all sides out of the mist. Wendy gave a small shriek and sat up, clutching her shift to her body, her hair providing an adequate cloak for her back. Peter also sat up but remained as he was, uncaring of his naked state as he watched the animals pad forward to encircle the young couple. The wolf that approached was unknown to Wendy, the one she had thought of as her particular friend choosing to remain unnoticed among the pack, all of them forming a tight circle on the verdant grass, dark brown eyes intent. The one that stepped forward was not unknown to Peter.

“Tisa. I have you to thank for my rescue, so Wendy tells me.”

“We have come for another purpose, we come to warn you, to tell you of treachery.” Tisa growled, the words barely understandable to Wendy, but clear as a bell to Peter.

“Treachery? What do you mean? Is this to do with Hook?”

“Not Hook. I was sent by our pack mother, our alpha female to warn you not to return to the north end of Neverland. Ferru and his pack will tear you to pieces if you set foot beyond the boundary of the Scorched Valley.”

“Ferru? But...I saw Ferru, outside the cave of dreams. There was nothing to indicate...” Peter held out his hands in bafflement. “There was nothing...what has happened for the wolves to make such a decision?”

“Ferru made a pact with Walbassa, to lure you to the cave of dreams and there to strip you of your powers.” Tisa whimpered, her posture subservient as she related what Lupa had told her to tell Peter. “Ferru couldn't believe his good fortune when the Wendy human appeared in our domain.”

“Was Jack a part of this pact?” Peter asked, his expression like flint, a dangerous glitter in his eyes.

“Black Jack new nothing, his plot was not of Ferru's design.” The she-wolf crept closer on her belly, her eyes wary.

“Is Hook party to this plot against me?” Peter asked, rising to his feet, his fists clenched at his side. The she-wolf whimpered and pressed herself against the grass, the others following suit until every animal lay on it's belly.

“We know not Pan. Lupa order me only to tell you of her mate's decree. Ferru was angry when Sidu told him you had spared Jack, and worse that the Wendy woman had been spirited away and given to Hook. Walbassa was wise not to try and claim his reward.”

“What was to be his reward?” Peter asked, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Release from his guardianship of the cave,” Tisa growled, her eyes never leaving Peter's face. Wendy sat very still on the cool grass, her shift clutched in front of her, her breathing shallow as she tried to remain invisible, her ears gradually becoming attuned to the animals' voice. She had understood some of the conversation but it still made little sense to her. Standing as he was with his feet braced apart and his fists clenched at his side, Peter looked like some avenging Greek God, towering over his subjects and angry enough to start throwing bolts of lightning, going by the glow in his eyes.

“So Ferru thinks to banish me from my own realm? Does he think to become ruler of Neverland over me?”

Tisa and the other females set up a chorus of yips and howls, Wendy placing her fingers in her ears to block the unearthly sounds that sent shivers up and down her back and left the hair on the back of her neck standing up.

“He thinks to end your rule, by any means at his disposal,” Tisa growled, putting her paws over her head as if expecting a blow.

“Is Ferru and his pack the only ones in open revolt, or are others joining the cause to overthrow me as Neverland's King?” Peter asked, barely restrained anger making his words terse.

Tisa appeared too overcome to answer, so one of the other she-wolves slunk forward before collapsing on her belly in front of Peter. It was a wolf that Wendy recognized, the one that befriended her before.

“Tisa knows only what Lupa, my mother, told her. You know me Peter...I would not lie to you, on my mother's heart.”

“I know you Diz.”

“I was in company with Jack before joining my sisters. He knows nothings of this pact, neither do the Indian's or your Lost Boys. I left them at the mouth of the Green River, waiting for you. They were concerned for your safety and that of your Wendy. My mother is at this moment sending the pups and their mothers into the hills for safety, as she fears a battle is likely to take place before too long.”

“Will it come to that Diz? Will Ferru not consider a peaceful end to this?”

“Ferru bears you a grudge, Peter Pan, from when he was not as he is now. He has built up his pack of strong males particularly for the fight to come. His plan has been long in the creation, and secretive, even from his family.”

“I bear you no ill will Diz, or Lupa. How many does Ferru have to call on?”

“We have grown many in number Peter...more than any one realizes, I think. The males alone would outnumber the Piccanniny braves and pirates combined!”

“Will the females fight on his side?”

“No. We are but a small deputation, but we represent our sex and our breed. The females want only peace to raise their pups and have no quarrel with their circumstances. Those of us not mothers or breeding are prepared to fight our mates on your command.”

“Does it have to come to a fight?” Wendy asked, her expression anxious. “If Peter agreed to leave that part of the island to the Wolves, would that not keep Ferru happy?”

Both Diz and Peter turned to face her, surprise and disbelief clear on both man and animal's faces.

“Would you have him call me a coward?” Peter asked. “Of course I must fight. If I don't, every villain on this island will think they can dictate who rules!” His voice had risen towards until the last word was a roar that sent birds flying out of the tree tops in alarm. Both Wendy and the wolves winced.

“Peter is right, he cannot allow Ferru leniency. Any sign of weakness and Ferru will overrun Neverland.” Tisa woofed, the other she-wolves slowly raising their muzzles in agreement.

“You must call that animals to aid you,” Diz growled, staring pointedly at Wendy. Taken aback, Wendy could only stare wide eyed back at the wolf.

“Why are you looking at me?”

“You have the power, I felt it the first time we saw you, so did Lupa. You could command an animal army to aid the Pan in defeating Ferru. It was you that called us here, to rescue Peter. We only knew that you were somewhere in the dunes.”

Now Peter was looking at Wendy, his eyebrows climbing to his hairline. Wendy could only stare back at them both, confusion and hysteria competing for supremacy.

“I don't have any power? What on earth do you mean? Peter..?”

“It must be your magic, Wendy.”

“But I don't....I've never.....you must be mistaken!”

“No mistake, Pan's Wendy. The pull was strong when you walked amongst us, many felt it, particularly among the females.” Diz took a step towards the girl, but Wendy reared back as if in fear. The she-wolf exchanged a glance with Peter, who shook his head and made a slight signal with his hand. Immediately the pack of wolves moved backwards, giving the young couple some room. The mist that had been ever-present was starting to disperse, bright sunshine flooding the grassy glad and bringing everything into pin sharpness. Peter crouched down beside Wendy and put his hands on her shoulders, drawing her distracted attention to him and away from the animals around them.

“I always knew there was something special about you, something extraordinary. I felt it here,” he touched his chest, Wendy's eyes following his hand, eyes that seemed unfocused and huge in her face. “The wolves don't lie, they know about these things. They are half way between mortal and magical beings, their spirits reborn as many times as their bodies. If they say you have the gift, they must be telling the truth.”

“But I'm not special Peter. I'm just a girl that's taken your fancy, just one among many...”

“You're wrong Wendy. There's never been a girl like you, never. It's what drew me to your window, what drew me to you. You're the other half of me, of Neverland. Chief Talagumpa knew this, so did Walbassa.”

“Walbassa?”

“You told me you saw dreams...you remember them.”

Wendy shuddered delicately. “I do.”

“And he was supposed to use you to lure me to the cave into Ferru's trap.”

“I did...didn't I?”

Peter shook his head. “Only partly....I think Walbassa saw who you were, who you could be and sent you to safety, away from the cave, then sent Jack back to me.”

“But I was found by Hook.”

“Maybe that was the final test.” Peter gripped her hand tightly between his own. “The mermaids only told me roughly where they knew Hook had last been. He could have taken you anywhere, and you would have been lost for weeks among the inlets and dunes of the Spit. Instead I found you in a matter of hours. You drew me to where you were, like a beacon. I didn't realize it at the time, but it's true.”

“Then you rescued me, and I rescued you?”

“And you decided to stay. Stay with me, stay in Neverland. Don't you see....we're meant to be together, everything says it's so. You have a gift, that, when combined with my magic, will make us invincible. We'll be able to vanquish our enemies and send the villains running for their lives. You and me, Wendy....together.”

“You really think I have this...gift?”

“I know you do. Tisa and Diz know it too, and Lupa, and I think Hook must have realized you have a special magic as well.”

“Because he kissed me?” Wendy asked, screwing up her face.

“Because he knew that I would come to rescue you, that I would risk everything for you.”

“Oh Peter....you do say the loveliest things.” Blushing, Wendy lowered her head, only to have Peter tilt it back up with a firm finger under her chin.

“Be the Queen to my King, Wendy. Rule with me over Neverland and live with me forever.”

“Forever is a very long time.”

“Not nearly long enough....” Peter whispered, sealing his declaration with a kiss, his lips warm on hers as they slid and molded together, the sun gilding them with a golden corona, blinding the watching animals for a second before normality returned. Blinking, the young couple drew apart, the world rushing in and reminding them that time was inexorably passing and things needed to be done. Turning away from Wendy, Peter spoke to the wolves.

“Diz...return to Jack and tell him to meet us in the Silver Forest. Tell them of what you know and ask Tiger Lily to inform her father what is going on. The Chief probably already knows, but it won't hurt for him to hear it from her in person.”

“At once Peter,” Diz barked, bounding in two leaps out of the glade and into the forest.

“Tisa...I'll need you and your pack to send your best runners to the spit to keep an eye on Hook and the Jolly Roger. I need to know the moment he sets foot on shore. The rest will need to meet the others in the Silver Forest, understood?”

“It is done Peter. Ferru will have his scouts out looking for you and those that you know. Should we kill those we see?”

“I want Ferru to know that I'm gathering a force to meet his. If you see a scout, don't attack unless he does.”

“As you wish.” Barking his instructions to the others, Tisa and the she-wolves took off at a run, disappearing into the jungle in a flurry of paws and tails, their excited yips fading quickly into the distance.

For a moment neither Peter or Wendy moved, the sudden silence and stillness of the glade a force that held them both in its thrall until the harsh call of a seagull broke the spell. Wendy was in a ferment of conflicting emotions, her thoughts a jumbled confusion of images, many of them overlapping recent events until she hardly new what was the past or the present, what was illusion or reality. Clutching her shift against her body, she got to her feet and took a couple of steps before stopping again. Peter also stood, his hands on his hips, his expression thoughtful as he started to make plans for the hours and days ahead.

“Peter?” Wendy was starting to feel acutely uncomfortable, the shift barely covering her, the sun burning a hole between her shoulder blades. She gestured vaguely to Peter when he looked up, his glance taking in the situation and lack of clothes.

“Oh.....yes.” He held out his hand. “Come on.....what we need is just over here.” He led her to a thicket of familiar looking shrubs, their leaves rustling loudly as if in anticipation as the young couple approached. Peter strode into the heart of the thicket and lifted his arms, the leaves heaving and seething around him as they plastered his body with leaves, a loop of vine twining itself about his upper arm and across his chest. Wendy cast aside her shift and gingerly stepped among the bushes, her hair falling over her upper body, her arms held limply out to the side. Again the shrubs set up a loud whispering, as if discussing the best way to clothe her, their branches whipping back and forth in a frenzy, the whole experience a little like being tickled with a very gentle feather. Peter was once more clad in his leaf costume, his legs bare from the knee down, his back and chest also uncovered except for a vine across his torso sporting tiny acorns with soft, petal leaves. Allowing the magic bushes to guide her, Wendy turned this way and that, most of her front was decently covered, and all of her legs encased in silky, leaf trousers reaching to just below her knees. Her long hair had been brush back behind her shoulders and she could feel something moving among the strands, like fingers weaving her hair into a plait. Finally the bushes stopped their thrashing and she stepped out, Peter greeting her with a wide grin and applause at her fetching attire. Wendy reached up a hand to touch her head, finding that fine vines had been twisted in and through her hair to hold it away from her face and to bind the rest behind her back. She twirled a little pirouette for Peter's amusement, her face split with a wide smile.

“You look as beautiful as a princess,” Peter bowed from the waist, his eyes dancing. Wendy curtsied, holding out the edges of an imaginary skirt.

“Why thank you, handsome prince.” The smile slipped from her face. “Does there have to be a battle Peter? We've had so little time together, and that only snatched from the jaws of chaos.”

“I have to squash this uprising Wendy. You see that, don't you? If I do nothing then nobody will be safe, and anyone with aspirations to become the next ruler of Neverland will feel free to plunder and pillage and destroy the peace anytime they choose.” He saw a flicker of guilt in Wendy's eyes and stepped forward, his warm hands coming to rest on her shoulders. “This is not your fault. Ferru wouldn't have just decided to take this stance because of your arrival. He will have been plotting this for some time, and the pirates are just as bad. They spend their entire lives plotting and scheming and thinking up ways to disrupt everything all over again. It has to stop, and your arrival has just proved a catalyst. A match to the flame that has been building for longer than I can remember. So please, don't think you are to blame, you're not. It's just the way it is and I intend to put an end to it. Especially now that I have something much better to do than chase rotten old pirates around the island.” Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her cheek, then another and another, grinning madly between each salute until Wendy started to giggle at his foolishness and pushed him away.

“Alright, I believe you. But I still have a hard time believing this nonsense about a magic power to control animals, or whatever it is you think I have.” She held up her hands, palm upwards. To her everlasting surprise a huge butterfly fluttered into the sunny glade and made a beeline for Wendy. It fluttered slowly over until it alighted on her upturned palm, it's wings opening and closing in a leisurely fashion, displaying the metallic peacock colors glimmering all over the surface of each.

“Oh goodness,” Wendy managed to gasp out, the monstrous butterfly dabbing at her fingers with it's long, curling proboscis as if the slender digits were exotic blooms full of nectar. “What shall I do?”

“It's a King Flutterbye, a very rare species on the island. They usually only fly near dawn or at dusk, and I've never seen one come close to doing what that one just did.” Peter told her, his voice full of awe.

Wendy raised her hand as if the Flutterbye was a bird of prey, willing it to fly away with a little shake of her hand. As if to oblige, the creature rose majestically into the air, it's wings catching the sunlight as if coated with a million gems, glittering brightly as the insect rose higher and higher. Suddenly, where there'd been one, there was two, then three and then more, until the air above Wendy's head was full of slowly circling Flutterbye's, a myriad jewel shades flashing in the sun and forming a colorful column of moving wings, somehow managing not to collide with each other as they slowly spiraled in the air.

“They are so beautiful,” Wendy breathed, gazing up at the insects in wonder. Peter had been struck dumb, having never seen such a spectacle before, thinking himself lucky to have seen just one of the brilliant Flutterbye's, let alone such a large gathering in one place of the fantastic creatures. The sound of the wings was like the wind rustling the leaves overhead, the two on the ground staring up at the mass flying above their heads with wide smiles painted on their faces.

“They're waiting for you to command them,” Peter whispered in an aside. He didn't take his eyes off the display above, and didn't see the quick look that Wendy shot him.

“What do you suggest?”

“I don't know....just think of something.”

So Wendy did. She held out her arms and closed her eyes, thinking of the image she wanted the Flutterbye's to create. Instantly they started to fly down to her, settling gently on her outstretched arms, her head and shoulders, anywhere they could find to perch on her body, their wings opening and closing in an ever changing array of brilliant color so that Wendy looked to be covered in cloth-of-gold adorned with a millions different gem stones, only her face left free. A few Flutterbye's still flew around her head, unable to find a place to land, making a swirling coronet above Wendy's head to complete the picture.

Peter folded his arms over his chest and stepped back. Here was proof that what Diz had said was true. His Wendy did have a power, a magic that drew living things to her.

“See Wendy? It's magic, and you have it.”

Wendy opened her eyes and grinned back at him, careful to keep her arms outstretched as she slowly turned, the Flutterbye's easily holding on, acting the part of a rainbow robe for the future Queen of Neverland. Again she closed her eyes, and at once the insects lifted away from her body and floated sedately away, dispersing among the branches of the trees once more, returning to their lives, leaving behind a girl who truly believed at last that she possessed a special gift.

“Weren't they just wonderful?” She breathed, in awe at the spectacle she's just stage managed.

“Beautiful. Now if you've had enough fun, we need to meet up with a few more magical creatures before we rendezvous with Jack and the others. Ready?”

“As I'll ever be.” Wendy replied, taking the hand he held out to her. Together they took a little run and jumped into the air, Peter flying them upwards until they cleared the tree tops, then flew forward, the sun on their right already starting it's downward plunge to the sea far below.

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17/06/07

Chapter: Twenty One - Magical Creatures

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They didn't have far to fly, alighting once more in the glade that sprouted numerous rings of white fungi, the fairy rings gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. Treading delicately, Wendy picked her way through the fragile structures, following Peter until they stood in almost the exact center. The woods around them whispered to each other, the leaves and branches making soft shushing noises although there didn't seem to be a strong enough breeze to do so.

“Are we waiting for the fairies to arrive?” Wendy asked in a whisper. Peter sent her a quick grin before throwing his head back and letting out a loud crow, Wendy jumping in surprise and staring back at him as he let out another raucous crow, the sound skittering away among the trees who whispered and rustled even louder.

“Good grief, you could have warned me!” Wendy grumbled, unable to stop a grin pulling her lips apart, an echo of Peter's own.

“Sorry, I suppose you thought it would be something reverent and mystical?”

“Well....I didn't know...I mean.....yes.”

“I know, I could tell by your expression. Fairies aren't delicate creatures Wendy, they are sprites born of fire and magic, very powerful. They may be small but they are surprisingly fierce when they want to be.”

“I remember,” Wendy replied, recalling Tinkerbells' attack on her when she first arrived. “I suppose you're calling them to this battle?”

“Oh, they'll know all about it already. I just want to make sure they're fighting on my side.”

“Aren't they loyal to you already?”

“They're fickle creatures, hardly knowing what emotion to feel from one moment to the next, and no, they, like all the creatures on this island, are free to give their allegiance where they will.”

“But didn't you tell me they brought you here, surely they would support you without question?”

“I certainly would like to think so, but I never leave something that important to chance. The fairies are magic, the strongest magic known on Neverland. Stronger than Walbassa and Talagumpa, stronger than me or you. Without them Neverland would simply not exist, none of us would.”

Wendy had been so engrossed in Peter's explanation she paid little heed to what was going on around them. Peter slowly raised his hand and pointed skyward, his eyes lifting to stare at the air above them. Wendy also looked up and couldn't stop the gasp of wonder that left her lips.

“Oh Peter!”

Bright balls of light fluttered and floated all around them, more and more lights appearing from between the trees and flying towards the leaf clad couple at the heart of their special assembly. Having only seen the glowing creatures from a distance Wendy marveled as each tiny winged fairy approached and hovered for a few seconds, as if taking her measure, before flying off to join its fellows. The overall impression was of a glowing, flickering, bejeweled throng gathering ever more thickly in the glade bordered by the forest. Peter had caught her hand in his, holding it loosely and grinning at her reaction to seeing the fairy horde gathering, his fingers gently stroking hers while he watched her expression bathed in the varying glowing lights all around them. Eventually the gathering of enchanted folk settled down towards the ground, finding their place on one of the rings of fungi scattered all over the ground until it looked like someone had strewn a collection of jeweled coronets at their feet. When the last fairy had settled in its seat, Peter dropped Wendy's hand and held up both of his.

“Representatives of the fairy council, I welcome you to this assembly and ask that you allow me to seek a boon.”

A trilling tinkling of tiny bells greeted his opening speech, Wendy marveling that if each of the bright fairies represented a separate colony, there must be millions of the enchanted creatures inhabiting Neverland. Peter was telling them of the treachery of Ferru and his pack, of the warning by the she-wolves, of Hook's nefarious behavior and of the fight to come. A great clamoring of fairy voices rose in a tinkling roar at the end of his speech, Peter lowering his hands to await their decision. The afternoon was drawing on and long shadows were covering the glade, making the lights of the fairies seem brighter, Wendy watching as one fairy from each mushroom ring rose up into the air to form a deputation that came to hover in front of Peter Pan, their wings a blur of motion. One of the group flew even closer than the rest, his voice ringing out clear across the silent glade. Wendy listened as the magical creature spoke to Peter, unable to determine what it said, but judging by Peter's reaction instead. The speech only lasted a few minutes, the fairy returning to the deputation who then flew apart back to their respective rings. Peter rubbed at his chin before turning to face Wendy, his expression unreadable.

“What is it Peter, what did they say? Are they going to fight with us?”

“They are undecided.”

“About what? Do they want Ferru or Hook as King of Neverland? What is there to decide?” Wendy could feel her temper rise but kept her voice low so as not to alarm the fairy throng.

“They want a test, proof that we.....that you are worthy to lead them.”

“What?” Wendy stared at him, her mouth falling open. “What sort of test? I thought you said that Neverland had accepted me, isn't this..” she indicated her leafy outfit, “proof enough?”

Peter grinned, “more than enough for me..but they..” he indicated the bright lights about their feet, “they want to see your magic. Apparently one of their number has been spreading the rumor that you are just another....” Peter looked uncomfortable and had to strongly resist the urge to shuffle his feet.

“Another what?” Wendy asked, watching his expression intently.

“Another trifling girl who won't stay.” Peter had the grace to look uncomfortable, staring down at his feet for a second before darting a glance up through his lashes at Wendy's reaction.

Surprisingly she looked calm rather than angry, tossing her long plait over her shoulder, her mouth taking on a militant look.

“Alright, they want to see my magic......let's see what I can do.” Settling her weight on the balls of her feet, Wendy let the tension flow out of her shoulders, her eyes closing as she concentrated. Having no idea what she was going to do, Peter stayed where he was, keeping a weather eye on the fairies waiting expectantly below.

A spear of sunlight shafted through the trees and touched Wendy's head, gilding her hair into spun gold. Remembering what she felt when the Flutterbyes had come to her call, she closed her eyes and held out her arms, the fairies at her feet setting up a muted series of chimes, their wings fluttering and whispering like the trees. This time it wasn't huge rainbow butterflies that came to her call, it was red and black, polka dot lady bugs, the earth erupting underneath the fairy rings and spewing the tiny beetles onto the mossy ground. The fairies instantly erupted into the air, the mushroom rings covered completely by the army of ladybugs, their red carapace looking like a spreading tide of blood seeping out of the earth. Only around where Peter and Wendy stood was the ground clear of the beetles. Soon the ladybugs split their shiny carapace and spread their gossamer wings, flying upwards and chasing the fairies until the air was full of the hum of wings. Eventually the ladybugs dispersed into the jungle, leaving behind an almost deafening chorus of fairy chimes, Wendy opening her eyes to see a look of awe on Peter's face, quickly transforming into a wide grin, his hand catching hers as she lowered her arms back to her sides.

“Impressive.”

“Was it enough to impress them?” Wendy asked, indicating the fairies milling about their heads. One broke free of the cloud and wafted down to hover in front of Peter's face. It trilled a series of chimes before darting off, the fairy throng starting to disperse in every direction possible, weaving glittering paths between the trees.

“Well?”

“They fight with us. He said that as long as you were on my side, they'd be loyal forever.”

“Really,” Wendy mused, tapping her bottom lip with her finger. “Then I won't have to perform again, will I?”

Peter laughed, and drew her into a hug, his eyes dancing. “No, I think that was sufficient. Thank goodness you chose the smallest of Neverlands' bugs to call, I'd have hated to see what damage there would have been if you'd called the biggest.”

“How big is the biggest?” Wendy asked, tilting her head back and smiling into his handsome face. Peter drew back and held his hands apart nearly two feet. Wendy gave him a skeptical glance, but he nodded his head.

“It's true. I've only seen a dead one before, but they are huge!”

“Maybe I should call them up for the battle.”

Peter drew her back into his arms. “No....I think we might just do better with something a little larger and more suitable for taking on a wolf pack.”

“And that would be?” Wendy asked, her arms looped loosely about his waist. It was very pleasant to just stand together and be close, the late afternoon sun almost gone from the glade, leaving everything in muted shadow after the brilliance of the fairy folk.

“Oh....maybe a tiger or two, or a bear or three.” Peter remarked casually, feeling Wendy's reaction when she stiffened against him.

“There are tigers on this island?”

“And bears.” Peter chuckled. “I think I did mention that before, didn't I? They tend to live on the far side of the island away from people, but they have been known to venture over the mountain range....occasionally.”

“You don't ask for much,” muttered Wendy, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder, the mere thought of facing a live tiger or bear making tremors run down her back. “I think I prefer to stick with bugs.”

“Then we'll have to make them big bugs.” He liked the feel of her leaning against him, her curves fitting his shape to perfection, as if made just for him. He glanced up at the sky and realized that time was passing quickly. “We have to go. There's more to do before we meet Jack and the others at the Silver Forest.”

“I hope a meal is on that list of things to do sometime soon. I'm starving.” As if to punctuate her statement, Wendy's stomach decided to sound out a growl of agreement. Peter laughed then stepped back, holding out his hand for her to take. Together they flew up and away from the fairy rings, the glade vanishing into the surrounding forest as they headed west. Peter took the lead and flew towards a tumbling waterfall spouting out the side of a sheer rock bluff, falling to a pool at it's base before following a deep channel into the jungle. They alighted on a pebbly beach that bordered the plunge pool, the area alive with the song of exotic birds and the thunder of the falls. Peter told Wendy to wait and left her dabbling her toes in the champagne cold water, so clear she could see right into the deep water where small fish darted back and forth. Peter returned with his arms full of banana leaves laden with ripe fruit, depositing them on a broad, flat rock which they used as a table. In the fading sunshine it made for a delightful picnic, as far removed from the threat of conspiring enemies and prospective battles as possible. Cupping their hands they drank the water, the liquid almost sparkling with tiny bubbles, a broad rainbow forming in the spray falling down the bluff. Brightly colored birds flew overhead and Wendy thought it the most perfectly peaceful part of Neverland she'd visited so far. Their stomach's full, they lay back on the soft grass bordering the tree line, light still slanting through the branches and creating bright patches over the couple below. Wendy was aware that time was passing, that all too soon they would have to be on their way to meet up with Jack and Tiger Lily and the others, but for now, it was peaceful and quiet and she had Peter, hale and hearty, all to herself. He lay back with his hands behind his head, his eyes closed, at peace for a few minutes. He could sense that Wendy was also completely relaxed, her fingered laced across her stomach, the heat from her body reaching out and enveloping him, her presence as much a part of him as his own limbs. Rolling slowly on to his side, his head propped on one hand, he faced her and looked his fill, enchanted anew by her features and fair skin, the leaves hiding her charms from his eyes but not from his memory.

“If you had a wish....what would you wish for?” he asked, the sound of the waterfall fading as he waited for her to open her eyes and answer him. As if pulled by invisible threads, Wendy turned her face towards him and slowly blinked, her lashes like shadows across her eyes.

“Just one wish?”

“Just one.”

She closed her eyes and turned away, her brow furrowing as she thought on his question. “I think....if I had just one wish, I'd wish that nothing I saw happen in the cave would come true.”

For a moment Peter said nothing, his gaze flicking down to the grass where his fingers plucked at the green stems, a nerve jumping along the line of his jaw. “What did you see in the cave?”

“I told you....I saw you die. So in a way, I've already had my wish come true.” Wendy turned her head to look at him, a small smile putting in an appearance for a moment before vanishing again. The sky overhead was starting to flare with the colors of the setting sun, the dark shadows cast by the trees growing longer and darker with each passing minute.

“What else did you see?”

“Nothing important Peter, and nothing I want to talk about.” Wendy stated emphatically, rolling on to her side and propping her head up on her hand. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Back at the pool, you said we were to meet up with Jack. The wolf said she'd been with him before coming to you. Am I right in thinking this is the same Jack.....Black Jack that runs with the pirates? That kidnapped me and practically handed me over to Hook?” Her voice had risen with each successive question, her eyes darkening like the sky, a faint tremor shaking her as she slowly rose to a sitting position and faced him. Peter sat up as well and met her questioning gaze.

“Yes, it the same Jack. He was in the cave as well and something happened. He was there when I went in to look for you, but he doesn't remember anything before the time he came back changed. He was the Jack I used to call my friend, not the Jack that became a pirate with a reputation almost as black as Hooks'. He didn't even remember you, or what had happened to you, or his part in it.”

“Is it possible? Could it just be a...a....trap?”

Peter shook his head. “No....it's true Wendy, he doesn't remember a thing. He's just the way he always was.”

“If that's the case, then another vision has been dispelled and the wish has come true already.” Letting her head droop, Wendy let out a sigh of relief, the vision of her marrying Jack now nothing more than a ridiculous hallucination. Peter was now thoroughly intrigued, a niggle of jealousy at the thought of Wendy having a vision that involved Jack but not him.

“Was the only vision you had of me, when I was dead?”

Wendy lifted her head and a smile played about her lips. “I prefer not to remember that vision. It was extremely odd given what I now know about Captain Hook, and you say Jack is different as well. Then what I saw can't possibly come true, can it?”

“I suppose not. Did Jack ever tell you why he kidnapped you in the first place?”

Wendy bit her lip, not sure how much to tell him. “Whatever it was, it's all over now. He's back to being your friend again Peter, it can't possibly help or be fair to quote what he said when he was a pirate, don't you see?”

“No. I want to know what he told you.”

“Peter, it wasn't important....not anymore, anyway. It didn't happen and isn't likely to happen.”

“It's important to me. Jack doesn't remember, but you do. Why did he take you away? Where was he taking you and why?”

Wendy stared back at him with memories clouding her vision. All of what Black Jack had told her about age, renewal and death came roiling back, the snatches of conversation somehow distorted and jumbled. She shook her head. “He mentioned something about escaping Neverland, of breaking some cycle....that if one person should die with the realm of Neverland then they, the pirates, would be free to leave. He seemed to think I was the only person who could, or should die because I hadn't been here very long. I-I didn't really believe what he said, he was just trying to frighten me, wasn't he?” she pleaded with Peter to confirm or laugh off her words, needing him to tell her it was all a horrid joke. Instead Peter lowered his head, his eyes hidden from her, his mouth thinning into a grim line.

“While Life is Renewed then Neverland Flourishes – If ever a Life Ends Forever then Neverland Perishes.” He quoted, not meeting Wendy's anxious eyes.

“That's what Jack said, or something like it. Then it's true? If I, or someone else was to die here, it would all cease to exist?”

“Not entirely....but close enough.” Peter confirmed, fidgeting with a blade of grass, rolling it between his fingers.

“Peter...if what Jack said is true, then was it also true what he said about his age......and your age?”

“What did he say?” Still not looking at her, Peter discarded one blade of grass for another.

“He said he was,” she stopped, one hand coming up to cover her mouth as if to stop the words coming out. “He said he was one hundred and sixty years old..and that you...” she gulped, “ you were even older.”

“One hundred and sixty......I didn't realize it had been that long,” he mused, finally raising his head so that Wendy could see his eyes and read his expression.

“It's true....all of it, isn't it?”

Peter sighed and attempted a wry smile. “Neverland is so named for a reason Wendy. Never grow up, Never grow old, Never die, Never ending.” The smile died before it reached his eyes, Wendy's expression one of distress.

“Never grow up? But...but....I saw children at the Indian camp, young men, old men.....and you, you didn't just spring into being without being a baby first and growing up.”

“It's on of the paradox's of Neverland. Time can be bent and twisted, slowed down and speeded up. The Indian's chose many years ago that they wanted a normal life, such as it was, to grow old and produce another generation, and so they do, being reborn after death into another living spirit is part of their beliefs and accepted by all their tribe. The pirates live in a state of limbo, neither growing old but able to die and be reborn, sometimes to live as a pirate again or as another creature. The Fairies are eternal, unable to die unless someone speaks the killing words, their number constantly renewed every time a human baby utters it's first laugh. As for me.....” Peter paused, his eyes taking on a strange gleam in the deepening shadows. “I asked to be allowed to progress beyond my state of limbo as a child, but there was a condition.”

“Condition?”

“I had to agree that, in growing up, I would find either a mate to produce a successor, or nominate someone as the next Pan. I was all set to nominate Jack as my successor when he was turned and became a pirate. I could have nominated someone else.......but then I met you. I knew than that I wanted someone of my own, a mate to join me here and...”

“Produce the next Pan. Oh my God.” Wendy felt as if someone had sucked all the air out of her lungs, the enormity of what she was involved in finally hitting home. “I never really had a choice...did I?”

“You always had a choice Wendy.....I'll admit I wanted you to want to come to Neverland, quite desperately as it turns out. You see....I fell in love with you. After that there was never really any other choice for me.”

It was almost full dark now, the sky carrying only a hint of the sunset that had flared and died during the last few minutes. Wendy stared over at the cascade of foaming water still pouring in an unending stream, the spray very white against the black rocks. Her mouth felt try, her palms sweaty as she tried to digest and understand everything Peter had told her, her heart pounding unevenly in her chest. This was it then. She had already given him her body, and declared that he now owned her heart. Was she really prepared to give up everything she'd ever known and make her life here, with this ageless young man who professed to love her? Drawing in a steadying breath, Wendy turned back to face him, her gaze finding his and surprising a look of pleading in their shadowed depths.

“You're right Peter....I did have a choice, I was just a little slow to understand everything involved. I see now why things have happened, and I think my choice was made the moment I took your hand. You see, I fell in love too. With you, with Neverland, with everything.” She looked down, unable to hold his burning gaze any longer. Gently she brushed a hand over her leaf covered abdomen. “I think I would be very happy to....to be a mother.” She gave a nervous laugh. “It was after all what would have happened in a few years if I'd stayed in London. A nice young man, approved of by my parents and groomed for a solid, dependable career, would have been my choice before too long.” She felt, rather than heard, the low growl issued by the dark shadow seated at her side. “Instead of that life, I have another to look forward to, a life full of adventure and magic and.....you.” She smiled to herself. “I think I made the right decision.”

At last Peter moved, his arms enveloping her, her own wrapping around him so that they melded together seamlessly. In the dark, he found her mouth and covered it with his own, their breath mingling while lips and tongues sealed their future and declared their feelings without hesitation or regret. At length they parted, breathless and tingling, the sky above now spangled with a billion stars. One of the stars detached itself and darted towards earth, weaving a path through the clear sky until it hovered over the couple wrapped in each other's arms on the grass below. Tinkerbells' light drew Peter and Wendy's attention upwards.

“Tink!” Peter exclaimed, a broad smile splitting his face on seeing his fairy friend. He and Wendy got to their feet, hands remaining entwined as they listened to the fairy chime her message to them both.

“You're right Tink, it is time we made our way to the rendezvous with Jack. Lead the way, we'll be right behind you.”

Peter tightened his grip on Wendy's hand, receiving an answering squeeze in reply. They flew up into the blue velvet sky, following the glowing bright ball of light as Tink drew them onwards, the forest now dark and impenetrable below. Once or twice Peter called a halt, the three of them hanging in mid air while he played a haunting tune on his pan-pipes, Tink sitting on his shoulder as the notes of the tune dropped down to the shadowed forest below. Wendy kept her questions to herself, content to have had her former fears and anxieties well and truly put to rest back at the waterfall. Before long they were moving again, traversing the island with only the stars for company. At last Wendy could make out a change in the forest canopy, the tree trunks almost glowing in the darkness, their white bark reflecting the starlight and appearing to be encased in silver, their leaves also reflective and fluttering in the slight breeze like the crystal droplets on a chandelier.

As they flew closer they could see torchlight flickering between the trees, a snaking line of lights leading towards a circular glade where many more lights congregated, fires also adding to the level of light, along with the darting forms of fairies among the silver trees. As they flew towards the ground, Peter squeezed Wendy's hand once more, his grin one of supreme confidence that nothing and nobody could possibly be the victor other than himself.

Wendy hoped fervently that it would prove to be true. Certainly she would do anything and everything in her limited power to make it happen. She had most definitely made her choice.

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10/7/07

Chapter: Twenty Two – Convergence and Conflict

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Firelight flickered off the tree trunks, bending it's light out to the edges of the shadows, illuminating faces, fur and fluttering wings. People and animals had been drifting into the camp for hours, another fire springing up to accommodate the latest arrivals, the ghostly forest alive with the sounds of leaping flames and crackling embers. The battle plans had been talked over and everyone knew where they had to be and what they had to do. Now, an hour before dawn, Wendy curled up under the thick Indian blanket handed to her by Tiger Lily sometime earlier, and tried to sleep. It had been an eventful few hours starting with their arrival among those already gathered among the trunks of the Silver Forest.

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Jack, Tiger Lily and the Lost Boys surrounded them when they touched down, the two girls embracing warmly while Jack hung back, watchful and wary. Here was the girl, encased from neck to knee in Neverleaves, that Peter had chosen as his other half, the girl he, Jack, had stolen away for what purpose, he still had to find out. As the girls parted, their eyes met, the girl, Wendy, looking both wary and curious, Tiger Lily whispering something into her ear that made her smile briefly.

“Hello Jack,”

“Um....yeah....hello, er, Wendy?”

“Apparently you don't remember me, so Peter says. Lily just said you were back the way you used to be, before you became a pirate.”

“I don't know. As far as I'm aware, nothing has changed. I don't remember being or becoming a pirate, it's just a blank.”

“So you don't remember why you abducted me and took us both to the Cave of Dreams?”

“No. Nobody does....except maybe, you?”

“I only know what you told me Jack. That, and dragging me halfway across Neverland.”

“Yeah....I'm sorry about that,” Shrugging, Jack held out his hand in apology. “Friends?”

Wendy exchanged a quick glance with Tiger Lily before slowly reaching out her own hand, finding it clasped in Jacks for a quick shake before they both let go. Wendy had a brief vision of the Jack inside the church, while Jack had a disconcerting image of Wendy, dressed in wedding finery, running away from him. They both stepped back and glanced self consciously about to avoid eye contact. Wendy felt the press of a cold nose against the palm of her hand, looking down to see Diz at her side, the she-wolf looking up at her expectantly.

“Oh Diz, you're here safe.” She made a fuss of the tan and white wolf to cover her confusion with meeting Jack again. Peter had disappeared shortly after they arrived and Wendy supposed he was catching up with the Lost Boys and the other people and creatures starting to arrive from out of the shadows. Fairies darted overhead, their lights sending odd shadows dancing over the silvery tree branches and along the ground, confusing the eye until Wendy almost felt dizzy. Tiger Lily touched her arm and the two girls found a log to sit on beside a blazing fire, while Jack hovered behind them, unsure of his place and unsettled by Wendy. If truth be told, Jack was feeling a whole host of emotions, a pang of jealousy worming its way in at the thought of Peter's time being taken up by this honey haired girl in green leaves. Hard on it's heels came an unforeseen feeling of shame at his apparent treatment of this fragile looking girl, despite his inability to remember either the incident or his motives. That was what really niggled at him, that this girl knew all of what had happened between them, and he knew nothing. She even knew why he'd done, what he'd done, while he remained in complete ignorance of his own reasoning and actions. It both angered and upset him that he'd somehow lost a part of his past, the only person able to tell him now the one person he couldn't really have anything to do with. If Peter felt even a fraction of what Jack felt for Lily, it was a sure bet that Peter wouldn't take kindly to his friend monopolizing his Wendy for any length of time. Certainly Wendy didn't seem to feel the need to reacquaint herself with Jack any time soon, the two girls talking quietly together, obviously catching up on what had happened to each of them over the past few days. A deep growl behind him made his swing about to face a dark figure emerging into the flickering firelight.

“Hallo Ben, so you're fighting on our side, this time?”

The bear that appeared between the silver tree trunks rose up on its hind legs to tower over the young man, it's black lips peeling back from gleaming white fangs.

“Any fight against the wolves is a fight I want in on,” the bear growled, dropping back on to all fours and head butting Jack, almost knocking him to the ground. “Who's the girl?”

“The next Queen of Neverland. Her name's Wendy.”

“I heard she conjures bugs.”

“You did?” Jack's eyebrows climbed to his hairline as he turned to give Wendy a quizzical look. “That's a new one on me.”

“I brought the clan,”the bear growled again, hulking shadows resolving into half a dozen adult grizzlies, the creatures all rising up onto their hind legs behind their leader. Jack took a step back, grinning weakly at the wall of bear fur and wicked claws facing him. He pointed to a fire off in the distance.

“Peter is convening a war council....er...over there,”

The bears all lowered themselves back on to their four massive paws, padding past Jack in the direction he indicated. Despite knowing that the hulking animals were on their side, the sheer power exuded by the shaggy animals was enough to make him break out in a sweat. Fortunately, in the normal run of things, the creatures were solitary and only encountered in the Black Forests of the Deep Shadow. To see them massed together was an event Jack had never seen before in his time on Neverland, and he was sure not many others had seen either, Peter included.

“The bear totem is one of the most powerful spirits a warrior can have,” Lily's voice washed over him, a shiver dispelling his fears as he turned to her.

“I'm just glad their fighting on our side,” he huffed out a breath, smiling crookedly at the Indian Princess. “I've only heard of them, only ever known Ben, and that infrequently. I wouldn't want to make one angry or meet them on a dark night.”

“Then lucky for you they stay on their side of the island....usually.” Tiger Lily grinned at his obvious discomfort before turning back to her friend still hunched beside the fire. “I admit that Ben is the only one I've ever met as well, but I knew there were more.”

“Next we'll be seeing Tigers and Lion's marching through the camp. The wolves don't know what they're getting into.”

“They know. I think their leader must be mad to set Neverland against itself. The pack is certainly great in number, but up against all this?” Lily swept her hand to encompass the camp. Jack folded his arms across his head and nodded in agreement.

“I almost expect 'ol Hook to walk in and announce he's on our side as well. I wouldn't like to be in his shoes.”

“I wonder if Hook himself knows what side he's on. One of the fairies reported seeing the Jolly Roger rounding Dagger Heads and sailing up the coast. It's presumed he's going to land as close to the wolves' territory and cut inland from there. Probably anchor off Seal Point.”

Jack gave the Indian princess a quizzical look. “You certainly know a great deal about everyone's plans and movements, shouldn't you be sitting in with the others planning the battle?”

“I was going to ask you the same Jack. I'm looking out for Wendy, in Peter's absence, as are the Lost Boys.”

“And I'm looking out for you,” Jack replied shortly, winking.

“As if I need it,” the Princess scoffed, turning so quickly her braid caught Jack across the face before she marched back to the fire where Wendy sat. Jack remained where he was, a smile lifting his lips. Making up his mind, he left the girls sitting beside the fire and made his way through the gathering throng to stand behind Peter who was sitting cross legged on the mossy ground, discussing the coming battle with the leaders of the Indian's and various representatives of the fairy folk and enchanted creatures. Several deer skin maps lay spread out on the ground, Peter using an arrow to point out several features and where he wanted people and creatures to be positioned the following morning. All the while fairies darted back and forth overhead, some of them obviously returning from a scouting trip, relaying their information in a cascade of high pitched trills which Peter listened to before passing the information on. He held up his hand for quiet before speaking.

“It would seem that Ferru is aware of our gathering. The crows are acting as his eyes and ears, so be wary and shoot any of the birds you see on sight. It is also reported that the Jolly Roger has anchored off the coast at Seal Point, the closest landing beach to the wolves domain. Even working through the night, Hook will be hard pressed to reach Ferru before we do. He may be hoping to outflank us here,” Peter pointed to a place on one of the maps. “So I'm sending Ben to sort out the pirates, along with the hawks. They'll keep them occupied while we take on the wolves.” Peter suddenly stood up, the firelight flickering off his features making him look older than his years. “I say again, I want as little bloodshed as possible.

Ferru and his pack are to be rounded up and taken prisoner. This is not a slaughter, I want few casualties on either side. I realize that Ferru and his pack are unlikely to think the same way, but where possible, aim to wound, not kill.” Giving every creature and man in the wide circle a hard look, Peter turned to leave. Seeing Jack, he smiled.

“Jack. Come to get your orders too?”

“Don't expect much, do you Peter. You want them captured but not killed, surrounded but not slaughtered. Is Ferru privy to this plan? Because I don't think he's going to be holding back, or as lenient as you appear to be.”

“I intend to face Ferru myself, Jack. We have all lived reasonably peaceably within Neverlands' shores....”

“If you ignore Hook's frequent attempts to slit your throat,” Jack muttered. Peter ignored him.

“Even Ferru will realize the futility of his demands when he sees who and what is ranged against him.”

“Let's hope you're right. I don't fancy the idea of coming back as a beetle or a goat.”

Peter laughed, several others around the circle also raising a smile. “I'd have thought you'd rather come back as a hound and follow the Princess around as her lap-dog.”

“Hah!” Jack snorted, grinning back at his friend.

After that the meeting broke up and everyone drifted away to make what they could of the rest of the night. Peter and Jack sauntered back to the fire where the Lost Boy, Wendy and Tiger lily waited for them. Ignoring what Jack was saying, Peter walked right up to his Wendy and wrapped her in his arms, kissing her enthusiastically in front of anyone who cared to look. Jack caught the Indian Princess giving him an arch look before turning away herself to find a bedroll and blanket. Left to his own devices, Jack accepted a colorful rug thrown to him by Rat, wrapping the warm wool around him before finding a spot to settle down.

Peter and Wendy lay similarly wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. The dying firelight highlighted glints in Peter's tousled hair, Wendy's fingers combing softly through the curls.

“Where am I to stand Peter? What are your plans for me?”

“Where you will always be, by my side.” Peter replied, kissing her nose, then her cheek and finally her lips.

“And when do you expect me to use my special talents?” Wendy asked, a trifle breathless from his attentions.

“I thought you already were,” Peter murmured, nuzzling her neck.

“Peter!”

“You'll know the right time. I don't expect there to be any serious bloodshed, this is Neverland after all and we all live within its rules and boundaries. There'll be some dust kicked up and some noses bloodied, but in the end Ferru will be forced to submit and everyone will go home, honor appeased.”

“I sincerely hope it goes so easily Peter. Will Hook be there?” Remembering the penetrating looks of the Pirate Captain sent shivers down Wendy's spine. Peter hugged her closer.

“I've sent the bears to keep the pirates out of the way. I expect Hook and his crew to be kept pinned on their ship for the duration. He'll be no threat.” Giving up on his seduction, Peter curled himself about her and settled down to sleep away what was left of the night.

“I hope you're right,” Wendy muttered, giving in to the pull of sleep and allowing Peter to envelope her in his arms and heat. Some hours later, with dawn just breaking over the silver tree tops around them, Wendy awoke to find Peter gone.

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The faintest streaks of pink were just starting to color the sky when Hook stepped out of the long boat and on to the cool sand of Seal Beach. A skeleton crew were left to guard the ship while the rest milled about the foreshore, equipment and weapons carried on litters and across shoulders in readiness for the march ahead. A black shadow detached itself from beneath a palm tree and trotted across the grey sand to where Hook stood.

“You are late,” the Wolf growled, barring it's teeth, eyes gleaming.

“If you say so. We're here now, so lead on and let's get this campaign underway.” Waving his men forward, Hook started up the beach, his boots sinking into the soft sand until they reached the tree line. A bright yellow ball of light whizzed overhead, circling the pirates before turning to head back into the jungle. Before it had a chance to disappear Hook shouted.

“I don't believe in fairies!” Immediately the bright light started to dim, spiraling downwards until the light faded completely, the creature dead before it hit the ground. Hook smiled and gestured his men onwards, several muttering under their breath as they tramped over the lifeless remains of the fairy. Hook dug his heel in particularly hard as he passed, a grim smile curling under his neatly trimmed mustache. “Nasty, treacherous little vermin.”

The pirates tramped through the forest, following the black wolf leading them to Ferru and a battle for supremacy over Neverland and all it's denizens. As the morning progressed and light filtered through the thick undergrowth, the pirates kept a watchful eye, their scouts reporting that something was shadowing them. When pressed to report they couldn't name the creatures, only that they were big. Hook called a halt an hour into the march. He too had felt unseen eyes watching him from behind the veil of greenery on either side of the trail.

“Draw close men!” he ordered, drawing his sword and pistol while his men did the same, everyone now watching the enclosing jungle for any sign of the silent enemy. They stayed that way for long, drawn out minutes until a scream from one of the sentries made everyone jump and look off to the right. At the same time, from all directions, huge bodies crashed through the concealing screen and leapt on the pirates, the air rent with deafening roars and shrill screams. The grizzlies were making their attack, sweeping pirates off their feet and trampling the men underfoot before a shot could be fired. Hook neatly sidestepped just such an attack, aiming his pistol at one huge bear that tried to run him over, the creature receiving a bullet in it's rump before it could turn and lunge at the pirate Captain again. This time there was Hook and two others to face the bear, the creature rearing up on it's back legs to tower over the men, Hook's henchman almost running at the sight, but held in place by their Captain's curses and threat of disembowelment if they turned coward. While chaos scattered the pirates, Hook stood firm, the three men using their swords to inflict wounds on the bear until it backed off, still roaring it's defiance before slinking off once more into the jungle. With one animal routed, Hook turned to the others, rallying his men to drive off the animals, his crew and equipment all damaged by the Grizzlies attack.

“Get me a report,” Hook shouted, “I want to know how many dead and wounded. And where is that blasted black wolf?”

His men scurried off to carry out his orders, while Smee ran forward, puffing and red faced. “Beggin' ya pardon sir, but are we to carry on?”

“Damn your eyes, of course we carry on!” Hook roared, raising his hook as if to deal his first mate a mortal blow. Smee cowered but stood his ground, one arm raised to fend off the strike. “Get out of my sight Smee. If you be such a coward, I'll put you in charge of those too wounded to carry on and you can take your chances with those damn carrion eating bears!”

“I only meant....” Smee started to say then thought better of it, ducking to avoid the hilt of the sword aimed at his head. “I'll go see about the wounded.”

Another crewman came forward and gave Hook the report he wanted. Despite the chaos and the screaming, only three men had received life threatening injuries, and of those, two were treatable, with the third unconscious from being trampled.

“We also lost some black powder, on account 'cos one of the barrels was dropped and split open. Two muskets is wrecked beyond repair and there be numerous cuts and gashes from teeth and claw.”

“And the wolf?” Hook asked, his eyes lit with a strange red glow. The sailor swallowed hard.

“It be gone Captain. None saw where to, but it ain't here now.”

“Be gone yourself and get the wounded patched up, we're losing time hanging about here.” Hook ordered, turning away and used a cloth held by his hook to clean his sword. With that done he picked up his discarded pistol and reloaded it, a complicated procedure with only one hand. At length order was restored and the crew once more ready to set off. Those that were unable to continue were left in the care of Mister Smee, Hook telling his first mate to make way back to the Jolly Roger and await the outcome.

“If we win, I'll decide then whether to hang you from the yardarm. If we lose....you'll have to beg that flying brat for mercy instead, or maybe hang y'self!” Hook laughed cruelly, Mister Smee turning to leave with his small party of wounded while the rest formed up to march onwards. Several men were positioned as guards with loaded muskets in case of another attack, the wolf reappearing after the pirates had been tramping for half an hour. Hook hadn't noticed the exact time the creature arrived, only realizing it was back when one of his men gave an inarticulate squawk behind him.

“So you're back,” Hook snarled. “Give me a good reason why I shouldn't just shoot you now!”

“I don't owe my life to you, Captain. Only to Ferru,” the Wolf growled, padding beside the pirate without any indication of fear of injury. “If you want to spend the rest of this day wandering these jungles, to be picked off by bear or worse, by Peter Pan, then I'll go now....” The beast made to leave.

“Come now, let's not be hasty,” Hook soothed, giving the Wolf a feral smile. “I pledged to support Ferru in his bid to rid us of Peter Pan, and I'll stand by that.” Visions of having the Wendy girl cowering at his feet, the bleeding body of Peter Pan thrown to the wolves, brought a scarlet gleam to Hook's eye.

“Good.” Answered the Wolf shortly. “Then follow me.” Almost at once the wolf veered off the track they'd been following, Hook and his men following suit, the jungle swallowing them up until no trace could be found that they'd ever passed that way in a hundred years.

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27/7/07

Chapter: Twenty Three - No death, No glory.

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The first streaks of dawn saw figures emerge from the edge of the Silver Forest. Ahead stretched a long, gentle slope into a broad valley, a dark slash marking the ridge leading into the Scorched Valley off to the left, while the coast jungles extended down to the sea on the right. Ahead lay the territory that Ferru claimed as his own, encompassing almost two thirds of Neverland and leaving only the Indian village and coastal strip beyond the Ash Beast's domain free of his domination. Looking down into the valley, Peter could see the dark dots of wolves forming ranks like scurrying ants, the black coats of the animals stark against the close cropped green of the pasture. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to ambush, just open grassland. He felt a hand slip into his and turned to glance at the girl at his side. On either side, animals and humans appeared from the trees, the darting lights of fairies weaving among the branches and bobbing overhead like stars let loose from the heavens. A wet nose pressed against his leg and he looked down to see Dizz looking up at him, her liquid brown eyes intent.

“What are your orders for us, Pan?”

“To keep out of the fighting Dizz. You and the females have done all and more than I can ask of you. I don't expect you to fight your own kind, your mates, your brothers.”

“We have already sent our breeders and pups to safety Peter, if we fall, the pack will still live on. We want to fight!” A chorus of yips reinforced Dizz's statement, the other females crowding close to hear his reply. Peter felt Wendy squeeze his hand.

“Alright Dizz. I'll be glad to have you as my rear guard. Use your own judgment if things look to be going bad.”

“As you wish Peter. Good luck to you both.” Without further ado the she-wolves turned tail and melted back among the people and animals. Peter cast a glance to left and right, noting that the numbers of animals and people closely matched the number of black wolves waiting in the valley below.

“When the sun clears the ridge, we'll advance!” Peter shouted, drawing his sword and holding it above his head. A ragged cheer arose from the Lost Boys and Indians, Tiger Lily grinning and brandishing her tomahawk while Jack whooped and whirled his cutlass about his head. Between the people stood various animals including curly horned billy goats and needle sharp antlered stags. A snort from the left announced the arrival of several boars, their yellow tusks wickedly curved, black bristled backs arched and tails erect. Overhead, high in the brightening sky, hovered birds of prey – hawks, sea eagles and skuas, while off in the distance, aiding Ferru and his kin, flew black crows, rooks and a handful of buzzards. A murmuring suddenly started from down the line, heads turning to stare as an orange and black striped Tiger padded inexorably to where Peter stood.

“I thought you'd decided to pass on this one, Talon.” Peter remarked, not turning his head to acknowledge the giant cat.

“I thought you should know that the bears didn't rout the pirates after all,” the Tiger purred, sitting its huge body down on well muscled haunches before swiping a large pink tongue around its muzzle. “In fact, Hook approaches even as we speak. Look to the West, Peter Pan. Are you still game to throw all these foolhardy souls against Ferru and Hook?”

“Are you here to fight or to gloat?” A muscle ticked along Peter jaw, this only reaction to the Tiger's goading.

“I'm here to fight......but on which side remains to be decided,” Talon growled, barring his gleaming incisors in a grin that sent shivers down Wendy's body. Peter remained unmoved and continued to watch the wolves in the valley below. A bright shaft of sunlight surged over the ridge to the east, the assembled troops raising a ragged cheer and all looking to Peter to give the signal to advance.

“Then don't get in my way Talon, or which side you're one will be decided for you. I'd hate to see you come back as a mouse next time.” Still not looking at the big cat, Peter raised his sword arm and swept it down to signal the advance, his troops starting the slow march down the hill to meet Ferru and his traitorous pack. As the men and animals started down the slope, the Tiger stayed where he'd sat, the she-wolves approaching out of the shadow of the silver trees and standing either side of him.

“Not like you to miss out on a fight?” Dizz woofed, her gaze fixed on the humans and animals walking down the hillside.

“Not going to this time either,” Talon hissed, “I'm just waiting for all the players to enter the field before making up my mind.”

“So Hook is still your target?”

“Always has been, always will be.” The tiger replied enigmatically.

While the sun rose higher in a stately climb towards the heavens, the defending forces following Peter Pan slowly made their way down to the valley floor, the black wolves forming up to meet them like a black slash against the green sward.

Wendy and Peter had flown upwards to hover only ten feet above the heads of their advancing army. The fairies crowded close as Peter relayed his last instructions.

“Keep out of their reach, do you hear me? Whatever you see, don't touch foot on the ground. Ferru will be looking for any chance to use you against me, so don't let him.”

“I don't know how best to help you Peter. I'm still not entirely sure...” she shook her hands in frustration. Squaring her shoulders she gazed back at him with bright eyes. “I'll do what I can Peter.”

“Don't worry sweetness, this is only a skirmish and all will be over before the sun reaches its zenith,” flashing her his trademark cocky grin, he stole a kiss before swooping down to once more join the advancing line of animals and people, the black wolves starting up an unearthly howl, the advancing army bellowing in reply or banging their weapons on shields in answer to the challenge. From her vantage point above the field, Wendy tried to think only positive thoughts, her eyes closing as she summoned the energy from within to call for aid. The fairies around her swirled in watchful disarray, their bell -like chattering not distracting Wendy from her task. From the trees high up on the slope a black cloud appeared, sweeping down the grassy slop to eventually hover several feet above Wendy's head, a dull throbbing sound coming from the winged mass. Below her the two lines of protagonists started to close, the black wolves loping forward with teeth bared and tongues lolling, while the defenders surged to join. Wendy hovered with eyes open, then looked up, her arm flinging out to signal for her own insect army to attack, a million hornets forming a ragged arrow that buzzed over the heads of Peter and his supporters and dived on the flank of black furred carnivores, the wolves setting up a screaming howl as the stinging insects found ears and noses, attacking any exposed flesh with alacrity. Distracted, the wolves broke rank, several bowled off their feet by the goats and deer, trampled underfoot and effectively removed from the conflict.

Peter hadn't been able to spot Ferru, finding himself the target of several huge wolves who surrounded him and tried to bring him down. Of course he could have flown entirely above the battle, but he wasn't about to let his friends and allies fight alone. Instead he leapt over the canines heads slicing at legs and flank to inflict non-mortal wounds, to incapacitate but not kill. The wolves had no such scruples, snarling and attempting to sink fang and claw into any part of Peter they could find. A war whoop announced the Princess, Tiger Lily laying the flat of her tomahawk against the head of one dog while by her side Jack swept another off it's feet when it leapt for him, a well placed punch rendering the animal senseless. Already several wolves were slinking off the field, limping and whining from injuries sustained in the pitched battle. Some sprouted arrows stuck in flank and back, the Indian's following Peter's edict and not inflicting mortal wounds, just enough to render the animals unable to continue in the combat. Slowly but surely the fight was starting to go Peter's way and it seemed as if there would soon be an end. Then a loud booming sound put an end to such thoughts, a huge explosion erupting almost at Peter's feet and knocking him, and several others off their feet. Wendy, who had been concentrating on summoning a plague of biting black fly on the wolves, found herself blown backwards from the concussion, the fairies around her similarly blown into disarray, tumbling head over heels like thistledowns. Another blast followed in quick succession, blowing craters in the soft ground and spraying anyone nearby with a hail of grass and mud. Thick clouds of smoke followed, obscuring allies from enemies and lending a surreal pall over the field of battle. Pockets of sunshine speared the ground and created strange arena's where small fights blundered in then out to be replaced by another.

Peter lay winded on the ground, staring up at the sky above. He could taste mud in his mouth, his skin seared by the blast which had landed so close to where he'd stood. All around him lay the bodies of the wolves that had been attacking at the time, several of the creatures not moving, others struggling to their feet only to shake their heads in bewilderment. His ears were ringing with the blast, his head pounding as he struggled to get back on his feet. Smoke stung his eyes as he tried to see what was happening. His first thought was for Wendy, a quick glance at the sky showing her nowhere near. Getting shakily to his feet, Peter staggered slightly as he stepped around the prone bodies of the wolves, swallowing to clear his throat before calling out.

“Wendy! Can you hear me?!” A black shape loomed out of the dense smoke and he brought up his sword in a defensive move.

“Peter! I saw you go down...are you hurt?” Jack sounded hoarse, batting his hand to clear some of the smoke swirling past his face. “It would seem that Hook has arrived...bastard that he is. Can't see a damn thing in this mess.”

“Have you seen Wendy?” Peter shouted, pushing past Jack and trying to peer into the smoke, unable to see more than a few feet in any direction.

“She was up there...” Jack started to say, only to stop and shout an inarticulate warning as a huge shaggy shape appeared to leap out of the smoke straight at Peter. Wolf and man went down, head over heels, the wolf snapping at Peter's throat and drawing blood. Heavy jaws clamped down on the young man's wrist, wrenching the sword from his grip. Jack moved to plunge his own weapon into the wolf but a cloud of smoke swept across the ground obscuring the two fighting on the grass, Jack shouting his frustration, only to have Tiger Lily answer. The Princess, and a handful of braves, appeared out of the fog, the young men looking in all directions for the next attack. A loud boom made them all flinch and duck, expecting an explosion, only to have it land some way off to the left. The sound of growling and breathless grunts drew their attention back to the struggle between Peter and the wolf taking place up ahead.

“It's Ferru, he's got Peter pinned!” Jack explained, heading off into a white wall of smoke, guided only by the sounds of the struggle. Lily followed, guarding Jack's back and fending off any other wolves that dared to venture too close. Just as Jack thought he was getting close, figures appeared out of the smoke, their grinning faces giving scant warning before a swinging cutlass tried to take Jack's head off, only quick reflexes saving the young man from decapitation. The pirates had joined the fray.

Wendy stared up at the darting lights trilling to her amid the sounds of fighting. The grass felt damp against her back and she briefly wondered what she was doing laying about in a fog. A wash of acrid smoke stung her nose and she sat up, coughing. The fairies, relieved to see her moving, spun around her in a dizzying flutter, Wendy slowly getting to her feet and peering helplessly at the veil of smoke obscuring her vision. She could hear the growls and shouts of the battle waging in front of her, but could see little. She lifted off the ground to try and get higher but only succeeded in losing herself in the dense fog. Frustrated, she settled back down to the earth, her fairy guard following her to flutter about her head. Closing her eyes, she summoned whatever the biggest winged creature existed in Neverland. For several moments nothing happened and then a distant thrum of sound reached her, the beating noise coming closer with every second. A black something appeared overhead and Wendy looked up, a massive downdraft sweeping the enveloping smoke away from where she stood. Several feet above her head flapped an enormous scaly beast, it's outstretched wings causing such a downdraft that soon she stood in a ever increasing cleared area, the smoke pushed back by the leathering wings above. Fear shivered down her limbs as she beheld the fearsome Ash Beast, its yellow eyes intent upon just her, apparently awaiting her command.

“Oh my goodness,” Wendy gulped, having no real idea of how or what to do next.

“Get it to fly over the field!” Shouted a voice, Wendy whirling to see Jack and Lily burst out of the wall of smoke and come running towards her. “Hurry!”

Concentrating, Wendy did just that, sending the Ash Beast flying slowly over the battlefield, the smoke dispersing with every powerful beat of it's broad wings. Soon only small pockets of white smoke were left, man and beast staring about in consternation at the confusion all around. Indian's were battling pirates, while wolves were fighting both man and beast on all fronts. In the air, the birds of prey were making short work of the crows and rooks, the buzzards already gone from the fray. Not very far from where they stood, a figure lay on the ground, a massive black wolf standing over the body as if guarding it. Almost the same distance as Wendy from the body, strode the unmistakable figure of Captain Hook, his henchmen ranged on either side of him as they marched across the churned up grass.

“Peter!” Feeling her heart lurch into her throat, Wendy started to run, Jack and the others following. Hook saw them and started to pick up his pace so that allies and enemies reached the prone body at the same time. Ferru stood with his paws on either side of Peter, his teeth barred as he glared from one group to the other. All over the valley floor the fights started to break up, both animals and humans realizing that the real battle was taking place elsewhere. They now ranged themselves on either side of field, nearly everyone sporting an injury, some minor, others more serious.

Peter lay with his eyes closed, his hand laying open around the hilt of his sword, blood evident around his face and neck and running down his torso. Ferru stood with his jaws only inches from the young man's throat, daring anyone to make a move and force his hand.

Hook had waved his men back leaving him standing a few feet away, his left hand on the hilt of his rapier resting point down in the ground, while his hook stroked the ends of his black mustache, his blue eyes intent on the girl dressed in green leaves.

“Well, Wendy Darling,” Hook drawled, his eyes flicking down to the still body at their feet. “It would seem that Ferru has the upper hand. One snap of those lethal jaws and Peter Pan is out of our lives forever. Are you ready to hear the terms of your surrender?”

Controlling the quiver that threatened to turn into a full blown quake, Wendy glared back at the pirate captain, her fingers clenching convulsively . It was all her worst visions realized, a sick feeling rising up to choke her when she looked at the blood coating Peter's skin. Seeing him like this, as if dead, forced the weak tears from her eyes and made her swallow hard. Peter wasn't dead, she was sure of it. If he was, then her nightmare vision would already be happening around her. Tossing back her head, she faced her enemy with clear eyes and a determined heart.

“Neverland will never surrender to tyrants, whether man or beast. You are surrounded Hook, with no hope of escape. Surrender or be banished from this place forever.”

“To get away from Neverland was always my purpose, dear girl. Your threats are as empty as your head.” Throwing back his head, Hook laughed, his henchmen joining in, their coarse merriment ringing out across the valley. Wendy waited until it had died away before giving way to a small smile of her own.

“You misheard me, Captain Hook. Banishment from Neverland is not the freedom you so violently seek.” Having drawn the pirates attention, Wendy drew in a breath. She was quite taken aback by her own audacity, the words coming out of her mouth springing inside her mind seconds before she uttered them. She didn't even know if what she said was true, only that somehow, someone was using her to speak for them, making her feel detached, as if watching the whole confrontation from a distance. Amused, but not unduly alarmed, Wendy continued. “Do you honestly think that returning to the world beyond these boundaries is what you want? Or for that matter, what that world wants? You have been passed over, Captain Hook, you are an anachronism, together with your men and your aging ship. The only place you can possibly belong is here. There is no-one and nothing beyond these borders that would welcome you, or that you could survive in. The world has moved on. The alternative to Neverland is oblivion.”

The smirk playing around Hook's mouth slowly died. With narrowed eyes he held up his rapier and pointed it at Wendy.

“Don't threaten me girl. You are nothing here, less than nothing. This battle is an ancient one, and you are as much a pawn as these other misguided fools. Peter Pan is not a stripling, a youth. He is older than you can imagine, older than me, older than anyone here. His life will not be reborn as others have been over the centuries, as they will be for centuries to come. If he dies, we are free. Free to choose our fate, our future. While he lives, we are all prisoners for his amusement, his entertainment.” Hook swept a look around at the creatures and people listening. “I, Captain Hook, have played these games, these amusements for the last time. I want this farce to end, even if it means the destruction of everyone and everything.”

“You are very free with everyone else's lives Hook. Who says it's for you to decide?” Jack shouted, the Princess and her braves agreeing with angry shouts and the waving of weapons.

Hook waited for the hubbub to die down, his eyes glittering behind their dark lashes. “This gives me the right, you ignorant children!” Lunging forward, Hook impaled Ferru on his sword, the black wolf howling with pain as the rapier skewed him through and through. Quickly withdrawing the weapons, Hook aimed a kick at the wounded animal so that Ferru landed nearly at Wendy's feet and exposed Peter to Hook's sword. Wendy and the others stared in shock as Hook now stood over Peter's insensible body, the point of the sword now pressed against the young man's throat. His men surged forward in a semicircle to protect their Captain, several hitting out at the wolves that lunged forward to avenge their leader.

Ferru lay on the grass, bright blood staining the black fur, the once black eyes glazing over in death. Wendy stared at the creature that had wrought such havoc and felt little pity. Fear warred with anger at the senseless waste, the air starting to crackle around her as her emotions started to affect her new found magic. Tiger Lily pulled on Jack's arm to give the girl some space, the braves also falling back a little, in awe at the force emanating from the Wendy Lady. The pirates sensed something happening and muttered among themselves, shifting defenselessly while watching with half an eye for the anticipated attack. The wolves, their leader apparently dead, slunk away from the field of battle, their will to fight gone. Likewise the animal allies that had stood by the humans, started to leave and return to their forests, returning to being the animals they were rather than the warriors they'd become. In a matter of moments the valley bottom was devoid of animal life leaving only the pirates, Indian's and Lost Boys to bear witness to what followed.

Hook glared at the slip of a girl daring to challenge him, his eyes taking on a red gleam as he glared at his crew to quiet their muttering. “Well brat. Are you ready now to hear the terms of your surrender? There are no animal allies now to fight on your behalf, even the fairies have abandoned you!”

Wendy ignored his taunting, something welling up inside her, fighting to break free.

“You are a vain and foolish man, James Hook. Do you truly think that Neverland would let you wreak havoc upon those it protects and loves?” Tossing her head back, Wendy held out her hand, palm upwards. “Hand me the sword, and you will be given leave to return to your ship.”

Blinking his surprise, Hook laughed. “You certainly beat all, m'dear. You have no weapons, a paltry force and I hold the life of Peter Pan at the point of my sword. I say to you, surrender or see his blood flow free!”

“I give you one final warning...give me your sword, or forfeit everything.” Wendy stood resolute, her hand held out, her gaze steady. “There is nothing you can change James. Accept what Neverland offers and be content. If you are unhappy with your life, then change it – now, today. It is in your hands, your decision. Your roll on this island is no longer necessary, Peter no longer has need of you. Life moves on, as does the world beyond these shores. You can never be a part of that anymore, but you can be a part of what is to come. The choice is up to you. What you most desire is unobtainable, a fantasy that could never be fulfilled. What is to come, and your place in it, is what you must decide.”

A nervous tick was making Hook's waxed mustache tip quiver, his eyes losing their reddish gleam as he stared at the girl offering him an alternative to bloodshed and mayhem. He swallowed hard, the muscles in his arm aching from holding the sword at an angle for so long. He flicked a glance down at the boy at his feet, at the youthful features on the cusp of becoming a man. All his past enmity seemed to be draining out of him, his jealousy and rage, so long lodged in his soul, was starting to flake away. For the first time in his misbegotten life, Captain James Hook had a choice. All eyes were on him, his men watching for a signal that the fight was to go forward or be abandoned, the Indian's and Lost Boys tense in expectation that the pirates would attack, as they always did, without sense or reason. Staring down at the still body of Peter Pan, Hook really looked at the boy, saw the beauty that only youth can bestow, the promise of life and a future, of hope and change for the better. He saw himself before fate stepped in, saw the strength and vitality of life before the blight of poverty and circumstances decided his fate for him. He had once been this boy, he had once had a girl ready to fight for him, he had once had a life before it was snatched away and his choices were no longer his own.

He cleared his throat and stepped back, the point of his sword no longer hovering over the pulse beating in Peter's neck.

He blinked and looked up. Behind Wendy stood the imposing figures of Talagumpa and Walbassa, flanking the slight figure between them like avenging angels sent to protect her. Jack, Tiger Lily and the braves, along with the Lost boys stood back from the two men and Wendy, their expressions bordering on shock and surprise at the sudden appearance of them. Before the astonished gaze of pirate and brave alike, the two tall men suddenly merged into one, the rainbow robes of Walbassa becoming the ceremonial robes of the Indian Chief, the flowing white hair becoming the twin braids of Talagumpa until only the Chief stood in place behind Wendy, the figure of Walbassa gone completely as if it had never been. Holding out his arms, the Indian Chief brought them together above Wendy's head in a slow clap, palms flat together, three times before letting his arms drop.

As if a puppet who has had it's strings cut, Wendy's eyes rolled up into her head and she collapsed on the ground in a heap. Jack and Tiger Lily made to go to her, but Talagumpa waved them back. Then he spoke, and everyone listened.

“You have made the right choice James Hook. There is much that Neverland can offer a man of your talents, as well as your men. From this day forth, piracy will no longer be your employment, your ship no longer a weapon of war.” A single clap of his hands, and all the weapons and ammunition carried by the pirates disappeared. The men gasped, taking a nervous step back, still looking to their former Captain for a signal. Hook stared down at himself, his pistols, daggers and gunpowder all gone, leaving only his velvet coat and breeches. His hook had also gone leaving one sleeve loose about the stump of his arm. Pain lanced through him and he clutched at his foreshortened limb hidden behind the material. Dropping to his knees in the grass, he ground his teeth and moaned out loud. Then one of his men gave a shout and he opened his eyes that had been squeezed shut against the pain. In front of him, his good hand still clutching what had been his truncated wrist, there was a hand, with fingers and a thumb, as pink and new with even a sprinkling of dark hairs on the back. He was whole once more. James stared at the newly formed limb in shock, his mind, so used to not having his right hand, took a moment before attempting to flex the fingers, the long digits curling into a fist, slowly but surely. His men backed away further at this evidence of magic. Climbing slowly to his feet, Hook held out his new hand, flexing is open and shut before lifting his head to stare back at Talagumpa, speechless for the first time in his sorry life.

“You are once more as you were. Go back to the Jolly Roger and think long and hard on what you are to do with your new life.”

Stumbling slightly, Hook wheeled away and started back across the field, heading for the coast to the west. His men, hesitating only a moment, started off after him, chattering and casting glances back at the group of figures watching them go. Only when the former pirates were out of sight was anyone allowed to move. Talagumpa stood back from the inert figures laying on the ground and watched as Jack rushed over to Peter, while the Princess knelt by Wendy. Two female wolves appeared and dragged the body of Ferru away, the rest of the pack herded back up the valley by the remaining females, Dizz remaining behind as the last of the black males, their tails between their legs, submitted to being relegated to the lowest rank in the pack and harried back to the wolflands.

Overhead the dragon or Ash Beast, as it was known on Neverland, lazily flapped away over the ridge, somewhat confused as to why it had been called away from it's own charred valley, its thought on nothing more complicated than its next meal. Hidden among the trees, yellow eyes watching the departure of the pirates with interest, stood the big cat Talon, his long pink tongue coming out to lick over his lips and canines. Certainly he'd had his fun spoilt this day, Talagumpa giving him strict instructions to leave the departing men alone, for the time being. Licking one massive paw, he rose to his feet and turned tail on the drama below, his thoughts turning back to the hunt, his mind bringing up the image of a particularly juicy looking stag that had run past him only minutes before. Hook was not going anywhere, and there was always tomorrow.

Both Peter and Wendy were completely oblivious to any ministration from their friends. They remained unaware while litters were constructed to carry them back to the Indian village, a stately procession with curious glances sent many times Talagumpa way as he paced along beside them. The fairies returned and hovered overhead, keeping a close eye on both Peter and Wendy as they were carried along, often darting down to reassure themselves that the pair were indeed still alive. A special tepee had been prepared, the sides peeled back to reveal the interior, two raised pallets covered in furs awaiting the litters. Both green-leaf clad bodies were laid on the furs, several women appearing with wooden bowls filled with scented water and soft clothes started to wash away the blood and mud coating each of the young people laid out as if sleeping. Jack and the Lost Boy's milled around on the edge of the crowd, Tiger Lily having been whisked away and lost to Jack's sight as soon as they entered the village. Talagumpa had also disappeared, presumably to his own tent, the Chief's behavior and apparent multiple personalities unremarked by the Indians at large, much to Jack's confusion.

Disconsolate, Jack sat down beside the nearest fire and mulled over what had happened. Ranged either side of him sat the Lost Boys, Harry slipping away unseen a few minutes later. The sun was already starting to make it's slide towards late afternoon and Jack marveled at how the hours had flown. So much had happened that made no sense, and then absolute sense, depending on how he looked at it. Certainly the battle seemed to have been fought and won, but in the end, who were the winners and who were the losers.? What was the whole business with Talagumpa and Walbassa? What was Hook and his crew to do, now they weren't pirates, or leaving Neverland? What about Ferru? Had he really wanted to take over half the island, or had that been a clever ruse by Hook to bring Peter down? Looking around at the boys ranged on either side of him, Jack could see that some of them were thinking along similar lines. Squid, usually so vocal, was unusually silent, doing nothing more than picking at his fingernails with a knife, while Crate, also quieter than usual, poked at the embers of the fire, a frown marring his youthful features. Rat, Stretch and Tophat were playing with some bleached knuckle bones, the rattle of the ivory the only sound while Grub looked on with his thumb in his mouth. It was hard believe they had all been in a pitched battle only a few hours before, all of them sporting nicks and cuts, bumps and bruises over arms, legs and and other places.

As the time went on, the sky overhead flared with brilliant orange and gold banners, fading to streaks of purple and pink until the sun disappeared altogether, stars popping into life against an inky backdrop. Jack stared up at the sky and resigned himself to having a long wait for all his questions to be answered.

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19/2/08

Chapter: 24 – Limbo

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“Wendy....time to wake up dear......Wendy........”

She was floating, her body insubstantial and weightless. She could hear someone calling to her, but for a second couldn't place the pleasantly modulated female voice. Finding the effort too much, she mentally batted the voice away, preferring to sink into the grey nothing cocooning her.

“I know you're awake.....come on dear, it's time to get up.”

The voice was becoming insistent. Still floating, Wendy tried to turn over, to turn her back on the voice. “Go away.”

“Wendy Moira Angela Darling...I will not go away. Now get yourself up and downstairs. Breakfast won't wait another minute for you.”

Wendy felt her body suddenly gain weight and substance, her eyes snapping open as her mother gathered her skirts and swirled out of the bedroom, the door not quite slamming shut behind her.

Nameless terror swept over her, making her clutch at the pillow under her head, her limbs setting up a tremor that shook her from head to toe. Squeezing her eyes shut she tried to wake herself up, thinking that she was in a dream and would awaken to Neverland and Peter, even find herself laying on the ground after the battle. Had she been injured? Was she dead? Was this why she was dreaming about her mother, about home?

Slowly opening her eyes she found herself exactly as before, laying recumbent in her pink painted bed in the nursery, her brother's beds unmade and rumpled, her own warm and cozy

“No....nonono....!” releasing her desperate grip on the pillow, she drew her legs up and curled into a ball. “I shouldn't be here....why am I here?” Another thought suddenly burst into her mind like an explosion. Was the reason she was here because Peter had died? Wendy moaned and squeezed her eyes shut again. When had she seen him last, what was her last memory of him? A jumble of images raced through her head, her mind jumping from one to the other like a frog from one lilly pad to the next. None seemed to indicate that Peter was injured, let alone hurt. She tried harder, bringing up what she could recall of the battle. She could only bring up vague and insubstantial images, of black wolves and brown skinned warriors dressed in buckskins, arrows flying through the air and birds swooping in and out, screeching their war cries as they flew over the battlefield. She tried to focus on Peter, on where he was, on where she'd been, but it was hopeless, nothing but smoke and veiled images teasing at her memory.

The distant sound of her mother calling her again from downstairs brought a sob to her throat. She hadn't realized just how much she missed that sound, the timber and cadence of its familiarity making her heart ache in her chest.

“I must be going mad.....I must be crazy.” Wendy slowly drew herself upright and looked down at herself. She was wearing, as she would have expected, one of her pretty lawn nighties, the lace looking fresh and clean against her fair skin. Wendy frowned. Her skin didn't seem as fair as it used to be. It looked sun kissed, almost indecently tanned by the sun. Pulling at the neckline she inspected more of herself, noting how dark her arms looked, how much her body appeared to have developed in her time away. And she had been away, she knew it, she felt it, her own skin was proof. Something was stuck to her, just below her belly button, her fingers plucking off a green leaf, the small heart shaped piece of vegetation reluctant to let go of her. A flash of memory supplied an image of Peter in his green suit of leaves.

She slid out of her bed, her feet touching the floor. Looking down she almost shouted in relief and shock. Her legs were brown too, her feet positively black with dirt from running around Neverland. Still clutching the leaf she staggered over to the dresser and peered into the mirror. A stranger peered back at her. It was Wendy Darling, but not the same girl that used to live in this house, in this family. The Wendy that stared back at her had known fear and danger, had know love both of the heart and the body, the face starring back at her was that of the woman, not the girl. Raising her hand, she touched her face, marveling at the changes she could see and wondering how she was going to explain, what seemed so obvious to her, to her family.

The slam of a door somewhere else in the house made her jump, her eyes wide as she spun around. She felt like an intruder, that this wasn't where she was supposed to be. Unnerved by her own reactions, she went back to the bed and sat down heavily on the edge.

“I'm not mad then, not even crazy. I was in Neverland...I did meet Peter, we did....” she swallowed hard, pressing a hand to her abdomen. “Oh yes....we did.” Suddenly she jumped up and ran to the nursery window. The glass was cold against her hand when she laid it flat against the pane. Outside was covered in frost, the bare tree looking blacker than ever, the thinner branches twinkling with ice. “Nothings changed,” she breathed, her breath fogging the glass and melting a small patch of ice on the window.

The door to the nursery opened and her mother appeared once more, standing with one hand on the door knob, the other at her throat.

“Wendy. Come away from the window, you're not dressed. What is the matter with you this morning?”

Wendy whirled around then ran across the carpet and threw herself on her mother's breast, bursting into noisy sobs. Mary Darling quietly closed the door behind her and steered them both over to sit on Wendy's bed. Her daughter still clutching at her, as if unable to let go. Mary wrapped her in her arms and waited for the storm to pass.

“What is it dearest, why are you so upset?”

“I-I-shouldn't b-e here.”

“Whatever do you mean? Of course you should be here.”

“You-you don't understand.”

“No, I don't. Here, blow your nose and tell me what's the matter.” She handed Wendy a sensible sized hanky and waited for her beloved daughter to compose herself. “There now, that's better. Now start at the beginning and tell me all about it.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mary Darling sat staring off into space for long seconds after Wendy finished speaking. In truth, the poor woman didn't have a clue how to respond to what she'd heard spilled out during the past few minutes. Blinking, she turned to face her daughter and truly looked at her. Certainly Wendy looked flushed and tearful and could be forgiven for appearing fearful, but when Mary looked beyond that there was more. Wendy did look older, as if she'd aged both physically and emotionally. It wasn't because of any lines on her child's face, it was a smooth and unblemished as always, but there was something about the eyes that told Mary that Wendy was telling the truth.

“If I accept everything you've told me......then why are you back here now?”

To her consternation, Wendy burst into tears again and wailed. “I don't know!”

Pulling her back into her arms, Mary made shushing noises and other nonsense to sooth Wendy, all the time trying to understand what was happening. The door to the nursery cracked open and her husband, George, poked his head around.

“What's up love? The boys are wanting to get dressed.” His gaze took in Wendy's head buried against her mother's shoulder and his expression twisted to one of sympathy. “Problems?”

“Nothing we can't sort out George. Tell the boys to go see Liza, there'll be something from yesterday's laundry they can wear, and the kitchen is warmer.”

“All right old girl...you can fill me in later about....” he indicated them both with his hand, “...all this.” Then he shut the door as quietly as he'd opened it.

Mary waited a second then pushed Wendy upright and mopped her face again.

“Alright Wendy....do try to calm down and let's see if we can't sort all this out. I'll try to understand and believe you, but you must understand that as far as I'm aware, you haven't gone anywhere....” she held her hand up when Wendy made to protest. “I do realize that you've said that time seems to pass differently in this Neverland?” She waited for Wendy to nod that she had the place name right. “Alright then.... but according to you, you've been gone days and days....all in the space of one night.”

“Look at me mother...” Wendy held the neckline of her nighty to one side. “I'm positively brown as a berry in places, as if I've been to Africa or somewhere hot. Look at my feet and legs....you'd think I'd been playing in a mud pool I'm so dirty. And this...” Wendy held up the green leaf, “...you won't be able to identify this plant, I can promise you.”

Wendy drew in a breath to give her last piece of evidence, her coup-de-grace. “And if you have me examined you'll find that I'm not a virgin anymore.”

“Wendy!”

“Oh please believe me. I wouldn't....couldn't make this up.....”

“Well you do make up all those stories for your brothers, and you've filled journal after journal with your imaginings.”

“I know, I know...but this is so much more than those pale attempts....I tasted it, felt it, drank it.....there is no possible way this was all just a dream or a nightmare or simple fantasy.”

“As you say...a simple examination would put that possibility to rest, which, I might add, I'm not doing. I'll take your word on that for the time being. Oh Wendy.....my darling girl....what are we to do? The consequences.....oh my dearest.”

In despair at having no answer to that question, Wendy fell back onto her bed covers and stared sightlessly at the ceiling. “I honestly don't know.”

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Princess Tiger Lily kicked impatiently at the ground, marring the smooth perfection of her best moccasins. She had been chivvied away from the returning war party and secluded in one of the women's tents to be cleaned up and made presentable. Her hair now gleamed, braided and beaded while her body had been bathed and scented. She itched to be freed from the encumbrance of her station and left alone from the constant primping of her waiting women.

“How much longer?”

“Not long Princess.....if you would only sit still.”

Scowling ferociously, Tiger Lily wriggled on the stool and stared mutinously at the wall of the tepee, wishing herself outside with Jack.

The Indian camp was ablaze with torches, the golden light making everything almost as light as day. Jack watched as the entire camp made ready for an enormous victory feast, or so he supposed. He didn't feel very much like celebrating nor, he suspected did the Lost Boys. He'd gone to check on Peter and Wendy, finding them just as he'd left them, both laying as if dead, or deeply asleep, now jointly bathed and clothed in ceremonial robes, Jack not sure whether for a wedding or a funeral.

A young Indian girl approached where Jack sat, her figure slim and willowy, her hair unusually short but braided with feathers in the place of plaits.

“Hello Jack,”

Jack looked up, frowning when he didn't recognize the girl. She stood staring at him. “Don't recognize me, do you?”

“Sorry. Should I?” She did look familiar, but between the feathers and decorative face paint, he couldn't place her.

“It's me...Harry...or to use my full name, Harriet.”

Jack felt his mouth fall open but couldn't prevent it. “Harry? But you're....but.....why?”

“Why did I pretend to be a Lost Boy?” Harry tilted her head to one side and rested a hand on her hip in such an age old feminine attitude that Jack had to laugh. “Why do you think, Jack?”

“Yeah. I can imagine the prospect of playing mother to our rabble would have been less than appealing.”

“I left a life of a scullery maid Jack.....I slept in ashes to keep warm, and was given the meanest of tasks. I wasn't about to go back to that. When Peter found me I was running away, I'd stolen some clothes and cut off my hair. He accepted I was a boy, so I stayed a boy.”

“And now you're a girl. Do the others know?”

“They will soon enough. They will look to you for leadership while Peter is gone, so if you accept me, they will.”

He saw the doubt in Harry's eyes and knew his answer. “Of course I accept you Harry...er..Harriet. You're a remarkably pretty girl...for a Lost Boy.” He gave her a wink and laughed when she blushed.

“Thank you Jack. I can see the others coming over, so don't say a word, I want to see their reactions.” Harry gave Jack a saucy grin then turned to face her approaching former play mates.

The boys had been given the once over and been scrubbed, much to their disgust if their scowls were anything to go by. Tophat had managed to retain his head gear, although that too had be brushed and made far more presentable than usual, and Grub had a clean face for the first time ever. All of them had on clean clothes and smoothed down hair, Crate the first to ruffle his in defiance.

“Hate being clean, hateithateithateit!”

“Aw come on Crate....you look so....scrubbed,” Jack laughed, earning himself a look of such loathing he only laughed louder. The others grinned along with him, pushing each other about, messing up each other's hair or tugging at clothes to make them less tidy. Stretch glanced at the Indian girl standing at Jack's side, his eyes raking up and down her figure, his mouth quirking into an appreciative smile that froze when his perusal rose to her face. One quirked eyebrow from Harry, and Stretch let out a shout, the others staring at the lanky boy in surprise.

“Whatcha shouting at?” Squid grumbled, tugging at his shirt. Stretch raised a remarkably clean finger and pointed at Harry.

“It's...it's....it's....”

“Yeah, it's a girl.....what? You've never seen a girl before?” Crate snapped, scratching at his cheek.

“No...it's...it's...”

“Oh come on Stretch....anyone would think this was the first time you'd seen....a....girl....” Tophat's teasing tailed off as he gave the girl a long, hard look. “Oh my gawd....Harry!?”

“Why's Harry wearing girls clothing?” Grub asked, looking to Crate for an answer. “Are we playing dress up?”

“Harry....what the...” Crate stared at the former Lost Boy in shock. “When did you become a bleedin' girl?”

Harriet rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her slight bosom. “I was always a girl Crate....you just never noticed.”

“You never wos'!” Squid gasped, “but you fought and ran and climbed and....and...every fing!”

“Of course....just because I'm a girl, doesn't mean I'm not able to do just as much as you all do.” Harry gave them a smug smile and tossed her head. Jack had to admire her, she had been remarkably brave, or incredibly foolish to hide her sex, but in the end that didn't change the fact that Harry, or Harriet had been as brave and courageous as any of the Lost Boys.

“I think you make a very nice girl.....or boy Harry,” Jack said warmly, wondering, as he suspected the boys were too, if he'd been particularly harsh to Harry, or done anything mean to her in the past, thinking her a boy. But of course, that was why she'd performed the gender switch, to avoid being treated like a girl and being relegated to the restrictions imposed by both her own sex and his. Smart girl.

“Does Peter know?” Crate asked, sitting down beside Jack. “Has he always known?”

“I don't know,” Harry shrugged, “he never treated me differently from you guys....not that I could tell, anyway.”

Jack thought back over the many campaigns they'd fought against the Pirates and wondered if Peter hadn't known all along, Harry often placed in a position of least risk, as look out or back up, the importance of the post never down played or belittled. “I always thought he had a soft spot for you Harry...because you were not as strong as the others.”

“If he did, he never told.”

“Explains why you never completely stripped off....not even to bathe,” Stretch remarked, the others nodding in remembrance.

“Thought you were just shy, or something,” Squid added. “Never thought you was a girl.”

“Well I was...and I am....” Harry suddenly relaxed her defensive posture and bit her lip. “You won't start treating me differently....I mean, I can still hunt and fish and track and all that stuff, nothings really changed.”

“Not 'alf it has. You're a bloomin' girl now. Can't have girls messing things up...” Crate snorted, rather rashly in Jack's view.

“I like Harry just the way she is,” Grub announced, sidling up to her and taking her hand. “Can I sit on your lap?”

Harry cast Crate a mutinous look and Jack suspected the whole issue of girls in the Lost Boy's gang would be revisited again soon. Stretch seemed unable to tear his eyes away, staring at Harriet as if she'd grown an extra head. Squid kept shooting Harry glances from the corner of his eyes as if she was a bomb about to explode. Tophat was gazing at Harry in a way that Jack could only describe as adoringly, the poor lad apparently quite smitten with his former friend and troop member.

Rat was the only one not to voice an opinion, sitting himself down on the other side of Jack and looking gloomy.

“What's up Rat?” Jack asked in an aside, jostling the younger boy who glanced up at him accusingly.

“Why did he have to go and change into a girl...what's wrong with being a boy?”

Jack had to control the laugh threatening to break out. “I don't think Harry wanted to stay a boy forever Rat. Eventually she would have had to make the change, so now is as good a time as any.”

“But why? She was great as Harry....now she's a girl and I won't be able to talk to her or nuffin.”

“You could try Rat....it's still Harry.....as he's...she's always been.”

“Nah...now she's a girl, she'll be wanting to hold hands with boys and kiss and stuff. She won't want to talk to me.”

Jack leant down and whispered. “I think that once things have settled down, you'll find Harry is just the same as before. It just means she might want to wear a dress every now and then, that's all.”

Rat seemed to think it over, glancing at Harry then back at Jack. “Ya think?”

“Sure.”

Jack watched as the boys tried not to stare at their former comrade in arms, Grub, the youngest, sitting happily in Harry's lap as he often did before, the other boys coming to terms with the new dynamics of their group. With the addition of Wendy, things were never going to be the same as before, and Jack had things he wanted to do outside the group as well. Just thinking about those things seemed to conjure Princess Tiger Lily out of thin air, the beautiful Indian girl walking towards him as if out of a dream.

Jack swallowed hard and rose to his feet, the Lost Boys and Harry forgotten. Lily seemed to sway towards him, her lithe body encased in a figure hugging tunic whose fringing and beading swayed with her. If he'd been asked he would have said she seemed to move in slow motion, her dark eyes fixed on his, her tempting mouth curved in a welcoming smile. Unbidden he walked towards her, his heart thudding loudly in his chest.

They met some way from where the Lost Boys still sat, Jack gazing at her with appreciation.

“You look beautiful.” He breathed, unable to break the smile stretching his mouth.

“Only beautiful?” Lily retorted, preening under his gaze, her eye positively luminous.

“Just beautiful.”

“Thank you Jack.....you look....” she frowned at him, “you look the same. Why haven't you gone and cleaned up?”

“Huh....oh...well, what's the point? Peter and Wendy are comatose, and there's nothing we can do until one or the other wakes up. And talking about that, what's the story with your father? Is he Talagumpa or Walbassa...what is going on with him?”

Tiger Lily sighed. “I know you have a lot of questions, I do too....but right now we have a victory to celebrate and you need to get changed.” She reached out to finger his black shirt. “This has seen better days Jack...and I think it's time you shed that name.”

Jack opened his eyes wide, hooking his thumbs to point to his chest, indicating himself. “You don't like my name now? I'm not called Black Jack just because I wear black.”

“Never thought you were,” Lily swept her lashes down and up in a deliberately provocative manner. “But you have to admit, without the black attire, you'd be more like an ordinary boy.”

Jack almost spluttered in indignation. “Ordinary? You think I'm ordinary?”

With his black eyes snapping fire, and his hair tossed out of his face by an angry flick of his head, Tiger Lily had to say that Jack was anything but ordinary, as far as she was concerned. But she was hardly likely to tell him that and inflate his ego.

“You could be quite handsome in the right clothes and a bath. If you're especially nice I might even volunteer to wash your back.....” She fluttered her lashes again, seeing a glazed look steal over his face as a mental image imposed itself in his minds eye. Men really were so predictable.

“Bath?” Jack repeated, snapping back to reality. “I suppose there's no reason I can't do that...if it pleases you Princess?”

Careful not to give in to the urge to grin her triumph at his easy capitulation, Lily took his hand and started to lead him away from the Lost Boys and towards the bath tent. Her women were waiting for her to bring him, then she'd leave him to their tender mercies. He really was rather sweet, the prospect of seeing him out of his perpetual black and in something more handsome made her tug him along faster.

Jack found himself propelled into a tent, the interior full of steam and fragrant smells. Tiger Lily gave him a final shove, sending him into the giggling arms of her waiting women. Before he could protest, she was gone, his clothes soon stripped from his body and his modesty flung to the four winds. It would seem he was having a bath.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In his tent, Chief Talagumpa sat on his favorite stool covered in furs, his hand still wrapped around his staff of office, his head bowed and his shoulders slumped. He was exhausted, but at the same time satisfied that all had been done in accordance with the ritual. It now remained to be seen if the girl would make the ultimate sacrifice and return to them. Her earthly body was laying beside Peter in the tepee, but he knew that her spiritual body was back in her world, back with her family, back where her heart still clung to the past. Only when she embraced wholeheartedly her choice for the future would she awaken once more and take her place as Queen of Neverland. He hoped it would be soon, his strength largely expended, his time to move on moving inexorably closer with each passing minute. His daughter would be in safe hands with Jack, and Peter was more than ready to assume the mantle of King of Neverland, his long apprenticeship as Prince due to end and his new tenure of King ready to start once his Queen returned to her heart and mind.

Until then, they had a victory to celebrate and a feast to enjoy. He felt a presence and glanced tiredly off to the side, the ghostly outline of Walbassa hovering a few feet away.

“Ah Brother...has she made the transition?”

“Not yet Brother. She is confused, the strength of her dreamworld making it difficult for her to understand that she needs to say goodbye.”

“Will she do so?”

“Indeed. You only need to hold on until the dawn, then you can let go and join me for a well earned rest.”

Talagumpa chuckled. “I'm looking forward to that. What is Hook up to?”

“Gone back to his ship and is currently drinking his rum supplies dry, along with his crew. James Hook won't be bothering anyone for some little time to come. The wolves, too, have returned to their dens and their pups. All have returned the balance to its natural order.” Walbassa sighed gustily, “it was a very great battle, but I think they all did very well. Your daughter did you great honor today.”

“She did, my Lily....I leave her in Jack's hands, I think the boy will prove more than a match for her.”

“I always thought so. Never did like turning him against Peter like that.”

“It was necessary. The lad needed a diversion, and we needed time. Without Jack to fight against, the balance would have eventually tipped in Hook's direction, an outcome to be avoided.”

“True. Now, all it settled...” Walbassa smiled.

“Apart from the girl....nothing can be done if she chooses to stay in Limbo.” Talagumpa frowned.

“She won't. Her dreams are pleasant but not what she really wants. Not long now, and it will all come to pass as I predicted.”

“As you say Brother.”

Walbassa's image started to shimmer and fade. “I'll meet you at the bridge to help you cross over...don't keep me waiting too long....”

“Soon....very soon.” Talagumpa let his head droop once his brother was gone, the tepee very gloomy without Walbassa's glowing presence. He looked forward to his own time spent watching over the island without the troubles of his corporeal body.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Wendy stood at the window of the nursery and stared out with eyes that saw lush tropical jungle, not the blackened branches of the tree outside. Hands settled on her shoulders and she twisted her head around to stare up into her mother's concerned face.

“I can feel the wind on my face and taste the breeze on my tongue.”

“You're cold dear....why not come away from the window and closer to the fire.”

“I'm not cold....really I'm not.” Wendy turned away and resumed her vigil by the frosty panes of glass.

Mary Darling sighed and dropped a kiss on her daughters head before turning away herself, her skirts whispering across the carpet as she checked on her sleeping boys. It had been days and still Wendy clung to her delusions, her fantasy making her forget to eat, or drink, or even step outside for some fresh air. Neither Mary or her husband could persuade her to move from the nursery, Wendy ignoring the worried glances of her brothers and parents, her view turned inwards to the images she carried of Neverland and Peter and everything she'd seen and done. Dark circles were starting to ring her eyes, her hair losing it's gloss and her nighty starting to hang more loosely with each passing day.

Wendy remained where she was, unblinking until a bright speck of light flickered outside the window, darting back and forth as if looking for a way in. It never drew close enough for her to make out if it was a firefly or a fairy, but it was enough to jolt Wendy out of her self imposed vigil and send her to the writing desk to pull out paper and pen.

An hour later she folded the letter and propped it on the mantle piece. She had reached a decision, made her goodbyes and now knew where she truly wanted to be. She walked slowly about the nursery, touching the toys of her youth, brushing a hand over the heads of her brothers in farewell before opening the window, letting in a cold blast of frigid air.

She never felt it, her bare toes not shrinking from the hard frozen stone of the window ledge, her face already tilted to the stars.

“I'm coming Peter....I'm coming home.”

Drawing in a deep breath and closing her eyes, Wendy stepped off the ledge.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

3/5/08 - 8/01/11

Title: The Care and Feeding of Flying Boys

Chapter: Twenty Five – Finale and Farewell

This chapter is for Kasmira, and every one who has poked, prodded, begged, pleaded and generally encouraged me to finish this story. I love you all.

Author's Note: Thanks you to everyone for hanging in there and waiting so long for this story to re-launch itself two years, and eleven months later. I had felt then, as I do now, that I am starting to repeat myself with these characters, and that is surely the time to stop, before you spoil them and the world you're playing in with them. This will be my last Peter Pan story for the foreseeable future. I have loved creating situations and adventures for them to take part in, and I've enjoyed bringing romance and love to the pages they inhabit. I have been writing now since the start of 2004 after the movie came out for Christmas 2003, which I feel it long enough. I am so grateful for the people that have come along on the journey and supported, reviewed and egged me on, you are all very generous and I couldn't have written so much without that feedback. But it has to end somewhere. And this is it. Possibly, at some later date, I will come up with something fresh that I want to explore with these lovely characters, but only when I have something new and exciting to do with them, will I write again in Neverland.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Harriet plucked at the fringing on her borrowed finery and tried to ignore the sounds of the feast taking place beyond the tepee walls. She and the Lost Boys, along with Jack and the Indian Princess Tiger Lily, had stolen away from the celebrations to come to the big tent where Peter Pan and his Wendy lay side by side, as still as death. Above the heads of the future King and Queen of Neverland hovered a cloud of bright fairies, Tinkerbell among their number, keeping vigil as their friends did, the tiny creatures shedding welcome light, adding to the flames burning in holders hanging from the lodge poles.

Only the healthy pallor of Peter and Wendy's skin betrayed the fact they still lived. It had been hours since the battle that routed the rogue wolf, Ferru and his sable coated supporters. In fact it was hard to believe for any one of them, that it had only been that morning when they'd faced their enemies across a misty valley. Ferru was dead at the hand of the pirate captain, Hook, who in turn had been given his hand back and sent packing, plus Chief Talgumpa was apparently also the Keeper of the Cave of Dreams, Walbassa, which was news to everyone.

The Chief had appeared to start the victory feast, looking much frailer than anyone expected, his usually hale and hearty presence somehow diminished and subdued. No one could account for why there had been such a transformation, his daughter as anxious as anyone as to her father's health. But the old man had waved them all aside and given a rallying speech, before signaling the women to bring out the huge platters of food and deer skins of beer to be consumed. The musicians had started on the pipes and drums and the fires stoked so high sparks flew up to meet the stars.

After a while, Tiger Lily and Jack had stolen away, followed soon after by the Lost Boys, all of them now sitting around the decorated raised beds where Peter and Wendy slumbered on.

Apart from the noise outside, it was calm and quiet within the walls of the ceremonial tent, which meant that when Wendy suddenly convulsed and flailed, everyone jumped as if stung.

Tiger Lily reached her first, Wendy now shaking and crying out, her hands clawing at the air.

“Wendy.....Wendy....” Lily tried to hold on to her, but the girl threw her off, her eyes wide open but blind.

“What's wrong?” Harriet cried, Grub clutching at her skirt, his eyes round with fright.

“I don't know....Jack, help me!”

Wendy suddenly went rigid, then just as suddenly relaxed, her head falling back, eyes now shut, only prevented from connecting with the hard dais because Jack caught her in his arms and lowered her gently to the pillow hastily placed behind her head.

Jack and Lily stared at each other in shock.

“What just happened?” Jack asked, his voice hoarse.

“I don't know....truly I don't.” Lily felt Wendy's forehead, then her pressed her fingers against the girls neck. “She feels warm, but there's no fever and her heart is steady.”

They could see for themselves that Wendy's chest was rising and falling quite normally where before it had been barely discernible. Even as they wondered what to do next, Wendy murmured something, her eyes fluttering open to stare up at her friends standing over her.

“Jack....Lily....” She smiled up at them as if awakening from a perfectly ordinary sleep, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she yawned. “Have I been asleep very long?”

Jack put his arm behind her back to help her to sit up, looking over at Tiger Lily for help.

“You've been asleep for quite some time Wendy...hours. It's dark outside now,” Lily told her, meeting the girls' bemused blue eyes.

“Did we win?” Wendy asked, looking at them both, a frown creasing her brow.

“We sure did!” said Stretch, he and the others crowding around. Harriet stood back, suddenly shy.

“You got the Ash Beast to blow the smoke away so we could see who we was fighting!” Rat explained, grinning. “You 'ad him as tame as a moggy.”

“Goodness....did I do that?” Wendy looked to Lily for confirmation. The Indian Princess nodded.

“What's the last thing you remember, Wendy?”

They saw her forehead crease as the girl tried to remember, her hand coming up to swipe at the wrinkles, trying to smooth them out. Eventually Wendy gave a small laugh.

“I'm embarrassed to say that everything seems a bit woolly.” She glanced up at the children crowding around her, her eyes finding Harriet's. “Oh good, you decided to stop playing dress up at last.”

“You knew?” Harriet asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Wendy just gave the girl a look that said it all. The Lost Boy's exchanged rolled eyes and shrugs at this latest revelation. “Why didn't you say anything?”

“I guessed you were masquerading as a Lost Boy for a reason, and when that reason was no longer a problem, you'd choose to return to being a girl. It would have had to happen sooner or later.” Wendy looked at Harriet with compassion. “There have been many times I've wanted to be a boy, for all sorts of reasons, and probably not any as good as yours.”

Jack shifted impatiently. Wendy hadn't noticed Peter yet, and he was sure that when she did, all thoughts of her own predicament would fly out the window. “You were going to tell us the last thing you remember?”

“Oh....yes.....um....” Wendy looked sheepish, “honestly, I think it was us all around the fire in the Silver Forest the night before.”

“Oh dear..” Lily murmured, exchanging a worried look with Jack. “Wendy, there's something you should know.....” Lily started to say, but at that precise moment one of the Lost Boy's shifted and Peter's bier was easily visible. Wendy went terribly pale before scrambling off her own raised platform.

“Peter! Oh Peter...what happened?!”

Wendy bent over his still body and gently touched his face, her tense shoulders relaxing when it became evident he was still alive. She glanced up and down his body, seeing nothing but the usual collection of cuts and bruises, certainly nothing life threatening. Lily came up beside her and placed an arm about the girls' shoulder.

“He's not dead, or dying....just asleep....we think. He's been like this since the end of the battle....well, a little bit before the end actually. Ever since Ferru knocked him flat.”

“Ferru?” Wendy again swept her glance over Peter, looking for evidence of teeth marks.

“Wake him up, Wendy,” Grub's piping voice broke into the silence. “Wake him up.”

“Yes do, wake him up,” Harriet added her voice. The others all nodded at Wendy, who gazed back in some helplessness. Even Jack shrugged when Wendy applied to him to explain.

“There's no real reason that we know of, why he's still like this.”

Wendy turned back to Peter, stroking his hair back off his forehead, her fingers brushing across the skin of his cheek. “Peter?”

“Like Sleeping Beauty!” Grub piped up again, grinning when everyone looked at him. Wendy and Lily exchanged a look, the Princess nodding her head and giving Wendy an encouraging smile.

“It might work,” Lily added, taking a step back to stand beside Jack, the others moving back to give Wendy room.

She could feel embarrassment prickling her cheeks as she licked her lips before bending over to stare down into Peter's relaxed features. Bracing herself on her hands and standing on tiptoe, she paused, her gaze roaming over his face like a caress. Everyone behind him held a collective breath, only Grub unable to contain his excitement and squeaking loudly in the pregnant silence. “Kiss!”

Wendy smiled, hearing a collective sigh go through her audience, then she lowered her head until her lips made contact with Peter's, his own dry and soft against hers. She drew back, the skin between them pulling in protest before parting softly. She flickered her gaze up to watch his still closed eyelids for any sign that he was responding.

“Again!!” Grubs high pitched squeak made her jump, reminding her of the silent group of friends behind her. Wendy turned her head, meeting Tiger Lily's eyes.

The Indian Princess nodded. “Try again.”

Turning her head, Wendy did just that, applying a little more force this time and slanting her mouth, her calves starting to protest at being stretched to hold her position, bent over as she was. So intent on her task, she didn't hear the collective gasp that ran through the children clustered behind her, or see the wince from Jack when Tiger Lily clasped his hand hard, crushing his fingers. Her first realisation that something had changed was the hand that suddenly found it's way into the hair at the back of her head, the lips under her own coming alive and parting, the hand anchoring her in place while an impudent tongue darted out to meet her own.

Wendy jerked back a fraction in surprise the hand threaded through her hair falling away. “Peter?!” Her startled eyes met his heavy lidded gaze.

“Hello, Wendy.”

Behind them, the Lost Boys erupted into cheers and laughter. Lily and Jack were hugging each other, while Grub jumped up and down excitedly.

“It worked, it worked!!”

Wendy looked over her shoulder and smiled at the display before turning back to stare down at Peter. He had shut his eyes again, but she could feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath her, heat already starting to radiate from him.

“Peter? How are you feeling?” she asked him, noting the slight shake in his hand when he lifted it to rub his eyes.

“Tired....”

She saw the moment that memory kicked in, his sleepy eyes opening wide, his winged brows snapping together. “The battle....Ferru!”

Jack came to stand beside the platform. “You won Peter....Ferru is dead and his followers scattered.”

Peter made to sit up and Jack lent him his arm to aid him. Once upright, Peter shook his head to clear it, using Jack's clasp to keep himself upright. “I feel so weak.”

“You were knocked out by Ferru,” Tiger Lily told him, exchanging a glance with Jack before continuing. “You've been asleep for quite some time Peter. Wendy too.”

The others now crowded around, Harriet hanging back a little. Peter accepted the slaps on his shoulders, the friendly jostling from his Lost Boys, Wendy's fingers threaded through his own, her body perched beside him on the platform. He turned his head and grinned broadly at her before ducking his head to kiss her on the cheek, making them flush pink.

“We thought you woz a gonna, Peter,” said Squid, elbowing Stretch who yelped.

“Thought you'd never open ya peeps!” Crate scoffed. “A right bloomin' sleeping beauty!”

“We were so worried.” Harriet elbowed Crate out of the way, drawing Peter's attention.

“Harry?” Peter tilted his head and looked quizzically at his former Lost 'boy'. “So you finally decided it was time.”

Harriet gaped at him. “You knew? But you never said....”

“A Captain knows everything about his troops, Harry. I'd be a pretty poor leader if I didn't know a girl from a boy.”

“You didn't let on or tell anyone, Peter,” Tophat said, slightly accusingly.

“We had no idea he was a flamin' moll!” Crate blustered, shooting Harriet a disgusted sideways look. Harriet looked about to

explode, flinging around to face Crate, her hands fisted on her hips.

“You've got a right bug in your brain about all this. I'll take you on any day, Crate, don't think I won't. One more comment

about me being a girl and I'll.....I'll....flatten you!” With her eyes flashing and her slight chest heaving, Harriet was a fearsome

sight. Crate stared at her, seeing his former companion in a new light.

“Blimey....keep ya hair on.”

“And I'm not a moll, or a trollop or slag or a slapper or any of the other colourful names I've heard you use. I'm me, Harry, and

I'll appreciate you remembering that in future, as well as keeping a civil tongue in your head when referring to women.”

A shocked silence greeted her outburst, Harriet looking very appealing with her flushed face and sparkling eyes. Crate seemed to

have had an epiphany, his eyes widening as if really seeing her for the first time.

“Cor...” Crate breathed, a crooked smile twisting his mouth. “You're a real firecracker.”

Harriet looked back at him in surprise, the fight draining out of her as she realised the interested audience around her.

“I'm just saying.”

“Good for you, Harriet,” Wendy said softly, “good for you.”

Sounds from outside filtered into the tepee, reminder everyone that the celebrations were still continuing beyond the tent walls.

“Give us a hand, Jack.....sounds like we're missing a party.” Peter slid off the dais with Jacks help, shaking off the slight weakness in his legs, never letting go of Wendy's hand. Once on his feet Peter looked Jack up and down, grinning at his friend. “Can't go calling you Black Jack any more.”

Jack flushed, gesturing to himself with his free hand. “Blame the Princess. She said I needed a bath.”

“And a change of clothes... we burnt his shirt,” Lily informed Peter, giving Jack a smug smile. The only black that Jack was wearing were his boots, polished to a high gleam, his usual black pants exchanged for a fine pair of buff coloured breeches and his trademark shirt deposed by a snowy linen shirt that laced in the front, the billowy sleeves rolled up above his elbows.

“I think you look very dashing, Jack,” Wendy commented. “Not at all piratical and certainly not wicked.”

“Positively heroic,” Lily purred, giving Jack a sultry look that made the young man glad that his trousers weren't too tight in the front.

Peter glanced down at himself, noting the similarity between his clothes and Wendy's. Although his were, of course, in the style of a Indian brave, while hers were those of an Indian Maiden, they were both of the softest deer skin, bleached almost white and covered in intricate and beautiful patterns at hem and cuff. All the fringing had been adorned with tiny beads that swayed with every movement, Wendy's long locks loose and brushed until they gleamed. Feather's had been woven into her hair with tiny braids, a necklace of amber and seashells around her neck matching the bracelets adorning her arms and wrists. His own arms sported similar decorations in the form of a wide arm band and wrist guard along with an amulet about his neck on a thong.

As the others turned to leave the tepee, Peter leant forward and whispered in Wendy's ear. “You look very beautiful in that dress.”

“And you look very handsome,” Wendy whispered back, smiling happily, her fingers holding out a pinch of the skirt at she bobbed a curtsy to him.

“I liked waking up to you giving me a thimble.” His lips grazed her ear, sending a delicious shiver down Wendy's spine.

“Then I'll have to remember to do it again sometime.” Feeling very bold, Wendy turned her head and pressed her lips to his, this time getting a response, their lips clinging for a moment before they parted to follow the others, hands still joined, heart beating in unison.

Crate and Squid held back the flaps of the doorway to allow Peter and Wendy a clear passage, the Indian village erupting into an uproar with their appearance, every brave, woman and child cheering themselves hoarse as the young couple stood before them, hands clasped, alive and well again.

Talagumpa appeared through the crowd, his hands lifted for silence, Peter and Wendy coming forward when he indicated for them to do so. The entire village formed a circle around their chief and the young couple. Talagumpa stood tall, no sign of the weariness of before, his face stern as he faced the Prince of Neverland and his chosen bride. He indicated for Peter and Wendy to kneel before him on mats placed for that purpose.

“People of Neverland, you see before you the Champion of our land and the woman that has chosen this world for her own. Is anyone has reason to dispute what I say, speak now or be done.” He turned his head to scan the faces of the tribe, but saw nothing and heard naught.

“Hear me then. We have fought a great battle this day and defeated more than one enemy of peace. We called upon our champion and he fulfilled his true purpose. Even now the wolves are no longer our enemies, the pirates no longer a threat. Our future has been put right and our lives are once more our own. All this has been made possible with his choice of this woman, Wendy Moira Angela Darling. We are in her debt for bringing Neverland back to where it should be, and for being all that Peter saw in her. Their future is now our future, and Neverland with live forever in this world and the next.”

The Chief waited for the cheering to subside before speaking again. “My daughter, and Jack....come forward.”

Tiger Lily and Jack also approached, kneeling beside Peter and Wendy, the two girls side by side flanked by their young men.

“On this day of celebration, it is only fitting that I give my most precious gift in this world into the keeping of someone who will cherish it as much as I do. Jack has proved himself worthy of the hand of my daughter and I give it most willingly. I would call on you all to witness the betrothal of these two couples, of Peter and Wendy, and Jack and Tiger Lily. May the blessings of Neverland and the spirits that guide us, bring them everything they desire and a life of peace and prosperity.”

Talagumpa then laid his hands on the heads of the stunned young men and women kneeling before him, blessing first Peter and Wendy, then Jack and Lily, bending down at the last to place a kiss on his daughters glossy head. Then he waved to the women in the crowd who came forward with wreaths of flowers, placing one on the head of each of the four young people, crowning them King and Queen, and Prince and Princess of Neverland before the jubilant crowd of Indians and Lost Boys. A cloud of fairies appeared overhead, their presence until now forgotten, their piping voices like music as they swarmed in intricate patterns of their fairy dance in celebration, glittering dust raining down on the two couples like star fire, until all four glowed as if lit from within. Both Jack and Peter got to their feet, handing up their ladies, the magic fairy pollen lifting them all off their feet, rising up from the ground as weightless as thistledown. As if on cue the lightest thrum of a beat on the tom-toms started, soon joined by the sound of flutes, the melody picked up by the crowd with hands clapping in time to the rhythm. Above their heads, bathed in the glow of firelight and fairy dust, the two couples circled and spun, arms outstretched before hands pulled them back together, the two young women so different in their colouring, swirling around the two young men, their match in every sense.

Peter spun Wendy around faster and faster, Wendy laughing, her head thrown back, hair streaming away from her head with the force, all of her spangled and glittering as if clothed in gold, the sparkles easily out matched by the sparkle in their eyes. The fairies now darted away and spangled their dust on other members of the happy crowd of friends and well wishers, bodies lifting off the ground to join in the dance above their heads, laughter greeting their rise into the sky, their friends cheering them on. All the while the music and drums beat out a sultry rhythm, the flames seemingly dancing along, making every face glow with joy and goodwill.

Every one of the Lost Boys, including Harriet, were in the air, joining hands in a circle around Peter and Wendy, the couple holding each other as if waltzing, hands clasped to keep the other close.

Peter pulled Wendy closer still, his starlight eyes meeting her wide blue gaze with wicked amusement. “So, my Wendy Lady, Queen of my heart.....are you happy?”

Wendy laughed at the absurdity of his question. “I've never been so happy in my life Peter....can you not tell?”

Peter grinned back at her. “I just wanted to be sure.” They twirled lazily, the Lost Boys turning somersaults around them. Peter leant forward, pulling Wendy close and whispered in her ear. “Come away with me?”

“Anywhere...” Wendy whispered back, her eyes glowing.

“Then hold tight.”

Tightening his arm around her waist, Peter suddenly shot straight up into the sky above the Indian village, Wendy clasped firmly in his arms, a sharp intake of surprised breath her only response to his ploy. The fires and fairies became just dots of light below them, the pair of them leaving a trail like a firework behind them before they disappeared from sight behind a bank of clouds.

Surprised but not alarmed by their sudden departure, the throng left behind set up a whooping and hollering that sent sleepy birds flying from the tree tops and dogs barking, adding to the cacophony, all to farewell their Champion and King of Neverland.

Jack and Princess Tiger Lily stared up at the rapidly fading glittering trail, their dance slowing to a stop as they drifted back to the ground once more.

“I think Peter has the right idea,” Jack said, pulling Lily closer still, drinking in her dark beauty, still a little overwhelmed by the Chief announcing their betrothal.

“You want to fly away from here?” Lily asked, tilting her head to regard Jack quizzically.

“I want to be somewhere alone with you.”

“Oh....well, why didn't you say so....” Grabbing his hand, Lily marched off into the darkness, Jack happy to be towed behind her enticingly swaying hips. Before many moments had passed they were beyond the light of the fires and gone from the sight of anyone who cared to notice.

Grub stared mournfully up at the sky. “Peter gone.”

Harriet stood beside him and smiled. “They'll be back.” Letting slip a happy sigh, the newly revealed Lost Girl scooped up the squirming Grub and danced about with the child in her arms. As she whirled around they both came face to face with Crate, almost bumping into the boy he stood so close. Harriet lowered Grub to the ground, suddenly self conscious around her former companion in arms. Grub stared up at his friends for a moment before wandering off to find someone else to entertain him. Crate and Harriet stared at each other, the seconds ticking by without either of them saying a word. Eventually Harriet opened her mouth to speak but found it covered by Crates fingers.

“Look.....I know I've said some dumb things about molls...er I mean wimmin...an' I know you fink I'm rough as guts...but....” Crate ground to a halt, his face screwing up into wrinkles as he tried to find the right words. Harriet let out a breath she'd not known she was holding.

“But what?” she asked, equal parts shy and curious to know what her tough, no-nonsense friend was trying to say.

Crate glanced down at his feet, then up at her, a faint bloom of pink tingeing his cheeks. “I was wondering....um....if you'd so me the 'onour of a dance....with me.”

Harriet blinked. His speech delivered, Crate appeared to wince, his eyes looking everywhere but at the girl standing in front of him, as if wishing himself a million miles away.

“I would like that,” Harriet answered, a smile curving her lips which in turn creased a dimple into one soft cheek. Crate ceased his fidgeting and fixed his gaze on that dimple as if seeing it for the first time.

“You will?”

Harriet nodded and held out her hand. After the briefest of hesitations Crate enfolded it in one of his own, marveling at himself that he'd never noticed how slender the hand had been all this time or how large and capable his own hand looked in comparison. Suddenly a grin flashed across Crate's face, his eyes dancing making him appear less severe and decidedly more attractive. “Come on then....” Towing Harriet behind him, Crate all but ran to the center of the dancing, swinging his partner around with loud whoops, his hand never letting go of Harriet's, laughing together with eyes only for each other.

Grub sat beside one of the cooling cooking pots, his hand dipping in every few seconds to retrieve another morsel, watching Crate and Harry caper by, his grubby face beaming as he licked his fingers clean.

* * * * * * *

Talagumpa paused and looked back at the celebrations still going strong despite the faint glimmer of the approaching dawn streaking the sky above the trees. He smiled wearily and leant more heavily on a plain staff, turning his back on the Indian settlement and making his way slowly into the forest. He could feel the pull of the Cave of Dreams, his final destination, like a thread attached to his heart. He paused again, out of sight of his people and lifted his chin, feeling life infusing his limbs, his tiredness dropping away, his back straightening even as he let the staff drop to the ground. A glow enveloped him and his robes lifted as if in a wind, leaves swirling as a mini tornado whipped around him. The glow brightened and his robes changed from the dull brown of deer skin to the rainbow hues of Walbassa's robes, his long braids turning white and flowing, his features losing their weariness and becoming more youthful until there was no longer any evidence of the Chief, only the calm visage of the Keeper of the Cave of Dreams. He took a moment to roll his shoulders as if shrugging himself into his skin, tossing his head and making his silver hair ripple before settling on his back. Drawing in a deep breath, Walbassa strode forward like a man renewed, his former persona only a distant memory. The forest came alive around him, the birds singing more sweetly and the air perfumed with the scent of flowers carpeting the ground as he passed.

Opening his mouth wide, Walbassa laughed delightedly, his step lighter and more carefree. Ahead, the Cave of Dreams beckoned and he welcomed the familiar tug of its call to him, his heart beating in time with the pulse of life so far away.

“Patience, all my brothers, I'm coming,” he chided the air, “I want to enjoy this while I can.”

With a firm stride and a smile on his face, Walbassa surged ahead, in the certain knowledge that his work was done. Neverland was safe once more for another generation.

* * * * * * * *

Far away, on the Moonlight ledge, King Peter propped himself on his elbow and gazed contentedly down at the girl sleeping peacefully at his side. They had stayed awake and watched the fairies until Wendy could no longer keep her eyes open, then they had slept. The first touch of sunlight had woken him up, his senses attuned to the island around him just as an ordinary person is aware of their clothes. He could feel the surge of new life all around him and smiled tenderly at the Queen he'd chosen out of so many. He glanced up and noted how everything looked more lush, more colourful and more vibrant, the rising sun painting the dawn with vivid pinks and apricot splashes on white fluffy clouds against a azure blue sky. He sighed deeply as if drawing in the lifeblood of the island in the scented air around him, his body humming with energy until he felt me must be glowing from the force of it.

Anything and everything was possible now, and all because of the girl now bound to him, to his heart and to Neverland, forever.

A frown briefly marred his brow as he remembered that she had a family, had a mother and father and brothers back in the Realm, but the thought was fleeting. She had chosen him and his chest swelled with pride and love that she had done so.

His Wendy, his Queen, his life – for ever and a day.

Laying his head down, Peter placed a soft kiss on Wendy's brow then closed his eyes. Neverland was in safe hands once more.

* * * * * * * * *

The End.

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