The pirate’s eyes alighted, teeth baring in a foul grin beneath his waxed mustache. Blades sang in battle, and I turned my attention to Tiger Lily. The Lost Boys had her. She was safe. But the ships were landing quickly, and there were still at least half a dozen to worry about. Whisper had done well, sending so many to the hungry ocean, but I supposed it was my turn. Landing in the clearing just before a break in the trees led to the city, I formulated a plan.
Pixies rushed from the woods and every island all around us, screaming their battle cries.
Skyla’s people shouted and raised crude weapons above their heads. As the pirates dismounted, Skyla met them with fury and force.
This was our home. Hook had already stolen Neverland from us, taken Tiger Lily’s family and culture, but her people remained here. My people remained here. We remained. And we weren’t leaving any time soon.
My fingers brushed Bay’s dagger, and my heart wanted to find him in the chaos, but Hook’s ship hit the ground, plowing through trees and brush to skid to a stop before me. Atop it, Peter and Hook were locked in an ageless battle that had seen itself play out through generations.
Inhaling, I lifted my arms, fingers splayed. Wings . I pictured great feathered wings behind me, gathering the forces of air to my side. The smooth breeze thickened, pooling into a rushing fall. I careened it toward the ship, smashing into the bow with all the force of a hurricane. The wood creaked and groaned. The sails filled. The sloop bounced.
Concentration beaded on my brow, and panting breaths filled me.
“Blast!” Hook yelled, parrying one of Peter’s blows and refinding his footing. “You’re free to kill,” he snapped at his crew.
The men chuckled as they threw themselves overboard. Their boots thumped into the dirt, and I narrowed my gaze at them, but I didn’t let up. One way or another, I was getting this ship off my homeland.
“Need a hand?” Bay passed me, flashing me a smile, and lifting his cutlass. When I brightened, he winked, then dashed at my attackers.
Skye zipped off his shoulder and landed on mine. “Whatever is making those things fly, it isn’t pixie dust. We can break the spell of the ones still airborne. Can you handle whatever lands?”
I threw a blast of wind toward a pirate, closing in on Bay’s back and flung him off the island. “I think I can.” Sweat plastered my hair to my cheeks, but I wasn’t going to back down.
“I know you can.” He nodded and was gone, calling an army of pixies to him with a shrill whistle. They dashed for the few ships still in the sky, firing cannonballs at Skyla.
I forced all the power I could manage into the gusts filling Hook’s sloop’s sails, and the ship hopped. Unwilling to relinquish the moment it was off-ground, I poured everything I had into billowing it over the edge.
Pirates tumbled off in the moments before the spell shattered, and the sloop plummeted.
Hook and Peter made it to land, Peter bowing toward me but never losing his stance with the captain. Exhaustion played behind my eyes, but I managed a weak smile amid the budding headache. My focus fell on Bay next. He parried blows from three men, falling back with every hit. Ruthless, they attacked without form, intent on slashing their foe to bits by brute strength alone.
I took his side, drawing my knife. “Hi.”
“Hey.” His gaze found me for half a second; it was all the time we could spare on each other, but the way his smile brightened stuck with me as I sloppily diverted blow after blow. My arms rattled, and the impacts didn’t help my blooming headache. Thankfully, our skills in close combat seemed equal. Unfortunately, they had strength I didn’t.
I tried to power my attacks with wind, but the gales deflated. Heaving breaths tore through my lungs. I was spent.
Were we any closer to victory?
We had to be. Cannon fire had died. The final ships in the air had just met a watery grave. We were winning. We were winning . Soon, this battle would be over. Soon, we could go back home. We had already lost so much to these pirates, in the distant past and not one month ago.
Hope gave me a final rush of energy, and I managed to distract our combatants long enough for Bay to serve two a lethal blow. The final man watched his companions fall and ran before Bay had the chance to lay the final attack.
“All right?” he asked me, pressing his back to mine and heaving a breath.
“All right,” I confirmed, zoning out of the close combat and back into the full picture. People on both sides dropped like moths. My vision skewed, but I shook my head and pulled myself back together.
“You’ve lost your touch, Pan!” Hook’s voice sounded above the ringing metal and my ringing head. “I’ll give you one last chance. Tell me where the Fountain is!”
“Why would a codfish want to live in a Fountain?” Peter jested, but the strain in his voice was terrifying. Blood, golden as the sun at midday, streamed down his leg.
30th November
M y gut flopped over, and horror struck my chest. My body moved before I could breathe.
Disgust, hatred, fury, it all corrupted Hook’s face as he dealt a single, powerful blow. “Fine!” he spat, spittle spraying from his lips. “To hell with you!”
Peter’s dagger flew out of his hand with pristine clarity, landing upright in the scarred ground feet away. Golden blood painted Hook’s blade as it impaled him. He plucked the weapon from Peter’s body fluidly.
Peter, my father, my family, gaped, falling to the cold ground. Tinkerbell’s scream shattered the silence ringing in my head as I reached him moments too late.
His lips parted, he stared upwards, unfocused. I lifted him into my lap, feeling the rush of blood pour over my skin, hot and wet. “No,” I breathed. I blinked fast to keep tears from blurring my vision.
I couldn’t— This couldn’t— No. No.
Hey, Lyric. His voice filled my head, a memory from long ago playing before my eyes. You don’t ever have to be afraid. You know that, don’t you? I had just woken from a nightmare. Curled in the bows of our tree, I sat with my face buried in a blanket, feeling helpless. Concerned pixies had filled the air, and I had peeked out at them, up at Peter. He had been so big once, and I’d never stopped feeling quite so small. You’re the Daughter of Pan. We’re the same, you and I. No matter what, we have faith, and we trust, and we believe.
His green eyes dulled, but they found me. A tear splashed against his cheek. His lips curved in the final moment, peace overcoming him. When his breath left him, it was not an ultimate battle. He released it like he’d held it for far too long. The sensation of air leaving him filled me, and I screamed, clutching his limp body against my chest. One by one around me, the same sensation repeated, echoing. Slightly. Nibs. Tootles. Chubs. The Twins.
All at once, their breaths found each other, left together.
I screamed my throat raw. Bay yelled for me, but his voice was garbled. His form stood above us, fighting Hook away from my father and I. Everything hurt. Everything was gone.
I curled over Peter, listening to Tinkerbell’s shrieking sobs mirror my own and grow weaker. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a nightmare. It wasn’t. I knew it wasn’t. And yet it had to be.
Pain knotted in my chest, fighting for an escape. A bundle of nerves tightened in my back, winding and winding. Something within me burst.
