Chapter 1

Captain James Hook stood on the shore of an unknown island and stared up in disgust at his beautiful ship. He and his crew had survived the storm unscathed but the Jolly Roger had seen better days. Her tallest mast had broken in half and the sails were torn. It would take days to make repairs.

He looked around. Where were they? At least the storm from last night had blown away, leaving the sky a fathomless blue mottled with a few puffy clouds. It was early morning but already starting to swelter. James shed his coat and elegant hat. The slight, salty breeze coming in off the sea did little to dispel the humidity.

"Stop gaping and get to work, you bloated bilge rats," he shouted at his crew, who were just standing around. "As soon as my ship is repaired, we'll be off and back to plundering."

"Aye, aye, Captain," said Yang, his first mate.

"Just where are you going, Captain?" asked Oppenheimer as James started up the beach.

"To explore this place. There might be treasure here." He doubted that but it was worth a look.

It was beautiful here, wherever this was, he had to admit, all white sand and palm trees. In the distance, a waterfall spilled down the side of a hill into the sea. There was something almost magical about this place. He could have sworn he'd glimpsed a pair of mermaids frolicking in the waters last night, just before the storm hit. He looked in the opposite direction of the sun. Even though it was daytime, a pair of stars shone in the sky. The one to the right was the brightest, practically a second, tiny sun.

"Second star to the right," he murmured, remembering the tales his mother used to tell him about a place called Never Land where magical creatures dwelled and children remained young forever. A chill touched his skin despite the heat.

There didn't seem to be any life on this shore as far as he could see, besides him and his men. He could hear them chatting and cursing as they worked.

After he had walked a ways, James started to feel restless and cranky. The heat grew more oppressive as the sun drifted higher. His clothes clung to his sweaty skin and wisps of hair, coming loose from his ponytail, tickled his neck. Why did they have to end up marooned here of all places? He longed to be back on the open seas, searching for ports to plunder. There was no treasure here. He kicked at the sand in frustration.

He was about to head back toward his men and yell at them to work faster, even using the cat-o-nine-tails if he had to, when he caught a glint of gold beneath a bush. Gold? James instantly forgot his discomfort and crept closer to peer beneath that bush. Perhaps there was treasure here after all.

He drew back in shock. The gold was sparkling dust in a seashell and a tiny girl was kneeling before it, stirring it with a stick. She'd only be a few inches tall if she were standing. He blinked hard. Was the heat finally getting to him, causing him to hallucinate? He rubbed his eyes and looked again. The girl was still there.

No. Not a girl. A pair of glistening, diaphanous wings draped her back like fine lace.

A fairy! Fairies had been a part of those Never Land stories. Struggling to remain as quiet as he could, he crouched down for a better look. His first instinct was to kill her and steal that dust. He'd left his sword on the ship but had a knife tucked into his boot in case there was trouble on this island. He almost laughed at his foolishness. He didn't need to use a weapon on this tiny, delicate creature. Just the sole of his boot would do the job.

He stood and raised his foot but then thought better of it. Didn't fairies have special magic? If so, she could use her powers to bring him treasures beyond his wildest imaginings. His heart increased its pulse at that thought. He returned to his crouching position.

She was performing some sort of magic right there with that gold dust, her focus so intense she didn't notice him. James bit back a gasp of delight. He had a feeling that that dust was far more valuable than any regular gold. It probably had magical properties. But what could it do? And there wasn't much of it. Could she get more? He heard his men arguing over something in the distance but resisted calling to them. Not just yet. They might scare her off before he could find out more.

James forced his gaze away from the dazzling dust and focused on the fairy. She was a pretty little thing but dressed rather shabbily for a fairy. According to the illustrations he had seen in books as a child, they wore gowns of stardust and elaborate hairstyles. Her thick, auburn hair was mussed, coming loose from a messy bun to fall across her face and over her shoulders. Her yellowish tunic was tattered at the hem and the soles of her worn boots were pocked with holes.

Perhaps she was an outcast, living on the fringes of fairy society. That would explain why she was out here, far from any kind of civilization, fairy or otherwise.

James felt a smile creep across his face. He'd be as friendly and welcoming as possible. His mind churned. That was it! He'd make her a part of his crew. If she really was an outcast, she'd welcome the company. And he'd only do this if that dust was as valuable as he suspected. If not and she didn't have anything else of worth to offer, he'd just have to kill her. He'd killed humans before so slaughtering a fairy would be snap.

But if what Mother had told him was true and fairies had all kinds of mysterious magic, there was nothing he couldn't do, no—

He let out a sudden laugh. The fairy scrambled to her feet, nearly knocking over the dust-filled shell, and looked around, her eyes flashing. They widened with fear as she spotted him, towering over her. Her wings flared and she leaped into the air, only to fall back down again.

This puzzled James. Her wings didn't appear to be damaged. Could she not fly? She reached into the shell, grabbed a handful of dust and tossed it onto her wings. They took on a sparkling glow. She dashed skyward and didn't fall this time. No! James's mind swirled with panic. If she flew off, she'd be impossible to find.

"I won't hurt you, little fairy," he said in his kindest voice. A flicker of pride passed through him as he recalled his ability to charm human women. Would it work on a fairy? She stopped mid-air and hovered just above his head, eyeing him warily. "I promise." He slowly raised a hand, palm up. "I'm just a humble sailor. My crew and I are stranded. A storm washed our ship ashore and we need help."

To his relief, she didn't fly away but continued to hover, her gold-coated wings beating rapidly like a hummingbird's. Interesting that she couldn't fly until she sprinkled herself with that dust, he thought. Magic flying dust. That could be useful. She cocked her head and said something that sounded like the soft jingling of bells. Did fairies have their own language?

"I'm sorry. I don't understand what you are saying. Do you understand me?"

She nodded. Her lips curved into a hesitant smile as she drifted cautiously closer. She eyed the hand he held out and touched one of his fingers with the tip of her worn boot.

"Go ahead. I give my word I won't hurt you." He grinned what he felt was his most charming smile, the one that always worked on the ladies.

She jingled something as she gracefully landed on his palm. She was so light he could barely feel her. Now that James saw her up close, he realized she wasn't merely pretty but exquisite, with fine features and large hazel eyes. He could make out a miniscule beauty mark beneath her left eye. But those eyes were slightly puffy, as if she'd recently been crying. A sensation of triumph clenched his chest. She was emotionally hurt and that made her vulnerable. Keep up the charming act, he reminded himself. She'll fall for it, just as human ladies have.

"I'm James," he said. "I'm the cap—the cabin boy on the Jolly Roger." He jerked the thumb of his free hand in the direction of his beached ship. Best not to reveal his true identity as pirate captain yet. That might scare her off.

The fairy jingled again then leaped off his hand and drifted to the ground. She picked up the stick she had been using to stir the dust and wrote something in the sand. James knelt to read it. "Za-rin-a," he murmured, sounding out the unusual word. "Zarina? That's your name?" She smiled and nodded. "It's beautiful," he said truthfully.