“What on god’s earth!” Hook’s voice reached my scrambled mind.
My shirt’s fabric tore, and my scream silenced as pain held me in its claws; my lips remained parted, gaping. I clutched Peter as something huge and powerful ripped from my body and flapped. Flapped . Power surged in my veins, fueled with a distinct thirst for blood. Panting breaths filled me. Rage left me in tides.
Wings . Real, distinct, feathered wings pounded behind me, lifting me to my feet and away from Peter’s corpse. Red blanketed my eyes as I pinpointed Hook stumbling away from Bay. Golden blood still stained his cutlass, and I flicked my gaze from it to his wide eyes.
“You,” I hissed, splaying my black wings fully. “What have you done?”
Men rushed at me in an effort to protect their captain, but I didn’t have to move a muscle. I stalked forward, and a whirlwind surrounded my body, shredding their skin and tossing them away like trash. I shook. Every part of me shook. The air around me trembled, and a horrible thought overcame me.
What if there wasn’t air around him?
Lifting my hand, I clenched a fist around the air in Hook’s very lungs. I watched as his mouth fell open, and his cutlass stained with Peter’s blood dropped to the damp earth. He grasped at his neck. I sucked oxygen from the cells in his body, one at a time. His lips flapped, exactly like a codfish.
He lifted a wobbling hand, plunging it into his coat pocket. Removing a small metal box, he pressed the single, centered button on it.
Explosions ricocheted around me, shaking the ground beneath my feet. I lost hold of my magic, and air pooled back over him. He gasped, sputtering. I spun, spreading my wings to stabilize myself. Blasts of light hit nearly every pixie oak I could see, splitting the trunks.
All of the mainland, all of Aire, and every island connected to it by a bridge fell.
The explosions continued on, and I watched the other large islands fall as we dropped out of the sky.
“If I’m not mistaken,” Hook coughed, rubbing his throat, “not all of you can fly.”
I growled at him; how dare he? The ground ripped out from under me, and I didn’t have time to give him another damn. He was right. All around me, my people were heading toward their deaths. My wings pumped, carrying me over the plummeting islands. I located the nearest path off, then I dove over the edge.
Wind howled, obeying my will as I lifted my straining arms. I molded the air into a cushion beneath each falling island. My vision spotted, and I gasped as they continued to careen toward the rocking blue waters. I couldn’t carry them all. I had to let one go. Swallowing, tears hot on my cheeks, I forfeited the one least likely to have anyone on it right now. My home. Peter’s secret hideout. Pouring my energy into making sure the islands with people reached the ocean gently enough to survive, I watched the only world I’d ever known smash into the waves. A glimmering water leaked from beneath the rubble, then dispersed, lost forever in the sea.
All wind that rises must fall.
This had been the plan all along.
He is not as infallible as you might think .
They had known from the start.
This was my nightmare and Peter’s long-awaited peace. His war, his time, had passed. His spirit had finally found freedom. No matter how it broke my heart.
I limped, my wings dragging across the ground as I took gasping breaths and stumbled over the battered land, searching for Tinkerbell and Peter. Any pirates had since fled, leaving only the carnage of the war behind.
Blood stained my dragging feathers. Mud matted them down. How could I even begin to care when golden ichor still stuck to my pants? A splash of orange coated with dust gleaming silver in the moonlight caught my eyes, and I swallowed, stopping where I was on the mangled battlefield. People and pixies surrounded him, sobs carrying on the still breeze.
Against his chest, I could just make out a tiny, unmoving form pressed to his unbeating heart. Not a single muscle twitched. I didn’t need to check for breath to know Tinkerbell had joined him. I was alone.
Lifting my face to the sky, I bit back the tears pooling in my eyes. I was alone. Utterly alone. Abandoned in a way I couldn’t fight. In one I couldn’t reason with.
“Wind Song?” Bay’s soft voice couldn’t draw me from the grief, but I forced myself to find him. He stood several paces away, hesitating, clutching his left hand.
My brows furrowed, and my chest squeezed when I noticed the cloth clamped against his wrist. “W-hat?”
His gaze fell to the same place, and he winced. “I guess you missed that part. Needless to say, I don’t think my father forgives me for lying to him.”
“He cut off your…your hand?” I choked.
“Jealous that I had two, clearly.”
I couldn’t take it. Any of it. Wails poured out of my chest, and my wings wrapped around me, hiding me secure from the world. I didn’t want anything to do with it anymore. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t right at all. This couldn’t be how adventures ended. We had lost too much. So many people. Peter. Peter .
“Hey,” Bay whispered, pushing through my fortification with little effort. He kept firm pressure on his wrist but bent to catch my gaze. It was too watery to make out much of anything past the concern in his eyes. “It’s okay.”
“Nothing’s okay!” I spat, gasping air.
His lips parted, but he swallowed, thinking better of whatever he was going to say. “Okay…” he said at last. “Things aren’t okay.” He pressed his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. “I’m so, so sorry.”
I wrapped my arms around him and fell apart. He murmured kind nonsense in my ear and stayed close, promising that’s what he would always do. As long as I wanted him, he wouldn’t go anywhere.
At that moment, what I wanted was out of reach.
The sun rose on a bleak day over a broken land. I clung to Bay’s side as Tiger Lily bound his hand after having seared the wound closed. Her eyes were glassy with tears. Everyone’s eyes were. Peter had simply always been there for all of us. Just as he was, eternally.
And now that constant, childish joy and comfort were gone.
The last of the Lost Boys were gone.
Tinkerbell was gone.
My home, gone.
I could do nothing but sit by Bay’s makeshift bedside in one of the makeshift homes and curl my wings tight around myself so as not to take up too much room in the cramped space. Whisper sat beside me, similarly coiled, and despite her eternal curiosity, she hadn’t said a word about my wings since she’d found me on the field. Her fingers were locked around mine.
