Chapter 27 – Attack!
Silence hung across Neverland, only broken by a screech or croak from the harpies here and there, who flew high in the frigid air under the thick dark clouds. No animal could be seen, no gnome peeked out of his home under the roots, no skeagshee dared to leave its shelter from a knothole, no fairy shook her golden dust over the land. In the marshes, the Will-o'-The-Wisps and Sheeries dug deep in the snow-covered mangroves; glancing fearfully into the misty cold, and the pixies in the woods clung to each other, forgetting their mischief. It was as if the whole island had paused in anticipation. Only the Green Masters slept, recognizing nothing of it, even if their slumber was disturbed by the sensation of danger in their dreams.
Deep under the Mount of No Return, Goblins, trolls, Duergars (the evil dwarf-like creatures) and Impets (part animal, part human) were too busy to be aware of this "calm before the storm." They patrolled the tunnels, impelled by their slave drivers, growled at each other for just taking up space, or sat around in small groups, eager to face a real fight. Strife was their nature, and they too were uneasy to find themselves confined to narrow passages or caves together with other creatures they were natural enemies with.
The allies, too, were itching to fight, ready for battle. After Tink found Thalion, then finally Peter, Hook, and the entire group of allies came together, shared reports and assignments, and then took off to their assigned places. Seven Elves and fifteen pirates were sent to the common-room, to open fire on the guards as soon as the fireworks began. Hook, a handful of Elves and thirty of his men would await the "living nightmares" – as he called the Unseelies – in the second main passage, while Thalion and the rest would face the enemy in the other tunnel.
The boys were split up, too. Slightly and John went with Peter, who wanted to stay with Hook, while Nibs and Curly accompanied Thalion. The Elfish commander didn't like that the Pan (who MUST survive the fight) insisted on going with the pirate-captain, but he decided that the more important issue was that the two former opponents now desired to face the enemy side by side. After all, it was their home that was threatened.
And so, the tension in the foul air grew as grey Elfin capes melted into the surroundings, while the warriors crouched behind stones or hidden in shadows, waiting for the enemy to run into their trap. The pirates had drawn weapons, razor sharp; their faces showing the grim joy they felt.
The boys appeared much the same, faces severe. Peter and Hook stood together, hidden in a niche, impatiently waiting for the battle to begin. Boy and man exchanged a quick glance, and Peter had to grin. Here they were: age long foes; often at each other's throat, now standing side by side, trusting the other with his own life, as if lifelong friends. And one look into the blue eyes of the buccaneer told him that he was thinking the same thoughts; especially as Hook lifted one brow and compressed his lips.
Peter inhaled through his nose, feeling impatient, knew that Tinker Bell shifted on his right shoulder, and fingered for the little pouch he had moved to his belt, where it was safer than around his neck. He could feel the pearl through the leaf and for a moment he thought that warmth radiated from it – a warmth that reached his soul. Smiling, he tucked the memory away while he concentrated on the battle before him, and waited for hell to break loose. One thought escaped him and shot through the cave walls toward the icebound galleon: 'I'll come back, Wendy! I promise!'
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Albino, Billy Jukes, Skylight and George sat on the icy deck, barely warmed by the fire in the old grate. The mist had vanished – or, more appropriately, it withdrew into the low dark clouds – but still it was miserably cold and eerily silent. The whole island seemed to be solid ice, and it was grating on the pirates' nerves. Suddenly Albino thought he saw a movement in the air, only a few yards away. Remembering the stories about storm- and mist-ghosts he jumped up, startling his comrades. "What t'e devil…?" Skylight started, seeing nothing, but his pale shipmate made an impatient gesture to shut up.
"Somet'in's t'ere!" he whispered – and felt a sharp pinch on his nose. "OUCH!"
A quiet giggle came to them, and then George jumped up with a loud curse, rubbing his cheek. "Show yerself!" Billy Jules called and saw the two Elves came approach; alarmed by the fuss the men were making. Another giggle rose up, and Jukes' hat was lifted from his head and thrown to the ground. A series of curses came out of the gunman's mouth, which ended with the words: "Ye bloody bilgerat, I'll tear ye in two!"
There was another snigger, then, right before his eyes, a pale green and golden-pink glow emerged, and suddenly Kailen and Aurora appeared, peeling off the little makeshift ponchos, which had made them invisible to eyes untrained in magical things. Emorlhi chuckled when he recognized the material – and that the pixie had used it to play one of his pranks. "Really, little friend, think you not that we have more important things to do in the moment?" he scolded Kailen softly.
Kailen started to laugh aloud and glanced whimsically at the angry pirates. "Couldn't resist!" he peeped, and exchanged a look with the rose-fairy, who turned up her nose. But this time she wasn't irritated with him, but seemed to share his fun, a smile gracing her lips.
"Bloody pest!" Jukes growled and picked his hat up. "Are ye so green 'cuz yer seasick or do ye suffer a hangover?"
Kailen stuck his tongue out at Billy, and met the other Elf's eyes. Nihal cocked his head, remembering where they'd just been. "You have seen our comrades, considering the garments made of our material, Kailen." The pixie nodded, and instantly had the full attention of the four pirates. Quickly Kailen told them of their meeting, while Aurora waited beside him – delighted that she and her companion had made it back to the ship. She felt much safer here, even if it wasn't really the case.
The allies in the tunnels were ready and waiting. Albino and Jukes looked at each other, and then the two Elves. "Time's a-wastin', lads!" the tattooed buccaneer grinned, while the promise of a coming battle pulsed through his veins. Finally they could fight back! They all grinned at each other. "ALL HANDS ON DECK!" Billy shouted, and the ship that seemed to sleep for so long quickly became a beehive of activity.
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Wendy glanced down at the drawing she was working on. It showed Peter in his typical posture: hands propped on his hips, head tilted, a broad grin on his face, hair tousled. Another picture lay alongside this one, showing Hook looking over his shoulder, his eyes piercing, a challenging smile on his lips, his curls around his shoulders.
Wendy's talent for drawing had improved in the last months. It had been the only outlet for her fantasies, besides in her dreams. She didn't dare write anything in her diary. Of course she knew that her mother would never read it without her permission, but she didn't trust her aunt not to. And she didn't want to be lectured for hours if her aunt learned that her niece still dreamed about a 'savage boy' with a stunning smile, wishing he would take her back to an island that could be as dangerous as it was beautiful. And she hadn't dared to write anything about Hook, either. Yes, she had thought him dead, and knowing that, you would think she'd forget about him. But this hadn't been the case. She had suffered nightmares about him; at first because of what she had been through on board, and later because of her part in his death.
She had forbidden herself to think of him in the manner she had before she met him, but it was a lost cause. Her fascination, coupled with the guilt, had haunted her. And she hadn't had the courage to face those bewildering feelings in her own journal. But in her drawings she could process her secret thoughts and desires, and so the quality of the pictures had improved almost to photographic perfection.
She was surprised now as she looked at the two drawings. They were the best she'd ever done, and the two of them – one the boy she loved, one the man who woke things in her that made her uneasy – seemed to live, ready to leave the paper and join her in this ostentatious cabin. Oh, how she wished for that to be so! Then she would know they were safe! She didn't dare to say it aloud, but she was terribly afraid for them both, as well as for her brothers and the Elves. She paused now, holding both portraits, and prayed the most sincere prayer she had ever sent Heavenward that they would live through what was to come.
Michael emerged at her left elbow, peeked at the drawings. "They're good!" he smiled. "It really looks like them."
The Twins also came around, clearly curious. One of them shook his head. "You have nerves of steel!" he sighed and the girl smiled down on him.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, here you sit at Hook's desk, drawing – and a war can start at any moment."
His brother nodded. "Yes! Aren't you worried?"
Wendy sighed. "I am more concerned than ever before," she admitted quietly. "But I have to do something to distract myself. So …" She made a helpless gesture toward the pictures.
Another movement to her left, and Bumblyn climbed up on the desk, looking over the pictures. His eyes were still glassy and he sighed something in his language, while he rubbed his head. "Still the nasty headache?" Wendy asked softly. Even if was his own fault, she pitied the Hobgoblin. She knew a hangover was unpleasant. Her little friend looked up to her with a pained expression and nodded. Cooing softly, Wendy gently stroked his cheek, put his hat away, and started to massage his tiny head.
The Hobgoblin looked at her for a moment, surprise on his little face, before he closed his eyes and started to purr like a cat. His ears hung down, relaxed, and the expression of his face was that of pure bliss. The three boys grinned at each other, before Michael commented: "You really have a big heart, sister!"
Wendy smiled. "I will remind you of those words when you have misbehaved again."
Michael grinned sheepishly, but before he could reply, they heard a loud shout from outside: "All hands on deck!" and in a moment, there was a knock on the door and Nihal came in. "Make haste, lady, Aurora and Kailen are back!"
Wendy leaped up and looked with quickened heart at the Elf. "Have they told anything about the others? Are they well? Did they reach --"
Nihal lifted one hand and stopped her questions with a soft smile. "Take thy ease, Wendy. They saw not Peter nor your brother, nor the others so dear to you. ut they met Giliath, and he reported that everyone is well."
The girl sighed with relief; then she frowned. "If Aurora and Kailen are back, then that means –"
"-- that the battle begins," Nihal affirmed and went to the children, seeing their eyes growing with apprehension. Gently he laid one hand on Wendy's shoulder and stroked Michael's fiery curls, the same with the Twins. "Remain here. It appears that this room is more secure. The bulkheads are strong here, the door is thick and the cabin is well away from the cannons."
Wendy swallowed. "Do you think that the harpies will attack?"
She saw the seriousness in his dark blue eyes as he nodded. "Yes, I am certain they will. But we are prepared for them. I have given instructions to the crew regarding how to fight this time. Harpies may be quick, and they are daughters of the storm, but they have weak areas as well, as you know. And if the Alrinachs dare an attack, the men know how to react." He gave her a soft smile. "Don't look so uncertain, my lady. We will make it. Even the darkest moments carry a light which will make itself known, in your newborn heart. As long as you can see and feel this, no darkness can overpower you."
Wendy tried to smile back. "You Elves are full of wisdom and poetry. I adore this mixture – even if I don't know how you can be so calm in this situation."
Nihal chuckled and shoved a braid back over his shoulder. "It is from experience, Wendy. And mine are extensive. After all, I am almost three thousand years old."
"WHAT?" This from all four children, and Nihal grinned.
"Aye. As Giliath said to Captain Hook: A long life has its advantages."
Wendy smiled to herself. "I can imagine his expression."
Nihal nodded, eyes crinkling at the edges. "It looked much the same as yours." The girl blushed and the boys laughed together, as from outside voices grew louder. "It begins," the warrior said and returned to the door. "Stay here and lock the portholes! Whatever may come about, do not open this door! Remain quiet. Possibly they will not realize that here are other humans, too."
With that he turned to leave the cabin, but Wendy held him one last time back. "Nihal? All blessings!"
The Elf smiled shortly. "Diola lle, Arwenamin – thank you, Milady!"
The heavy door closed behind him, while the children heard the squeaking noises of the cannon-hatches opening and the rumbling of the wheels of the enormous "Long Tom" as it was rolled into place. Part of the crew ran down the companionway to the second cannon-deck and made ready the heavy guns there as well, having been loaded hours before. Commands were shouted, answered by many an "Aye" and "Ready."
The three little boys pressed closer to Wendy, who wrapped her arms around them. She felt the unfamiliar twist in her stomach as fear turned there. She exchanged a look with a uneasy Hobgoblin, who had left the captain's desk and sat now on the desk-chair; his tail was wrapped around him and his ears laid close on his head. He wore a grim expression, but the girl could look straight through him: he was afraid as she was. "Aim well!" she heard Billy Jukes' shout. "Listen to t'e li'll lady! She shows ye t'e target!"
"Aurora?" Michael asked, and Wendy nodded.
"I think so. After all, she knows exactly where the opening is."
"Ready to fire!"
The boys closed the eyes and buried their faces at the girl's chest, who held her breath.
"FIRE!"
Thunder exploded into the icy silence, as the cannons spent their deadly loads in sequence. The ship trembled under the power of the weapons and groaned under the chains of the ice as it was rattled in its white prison. And then a boom roared like a bomb and the Jolly Roger seemed to moan under the brute force her mightiest weapon sent its cannonball through the air. Long Tom had been fired, and Wendy thought she could hear the impact exploding over the frozen sea, while the pirates started to cheer.
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Peter stood beside Hook and waited. He was wound tighter than he'd ever been before, and as he looked up at the man, he saw the same expression on Hook's face. "I hate waiting!" the buccaneer whispered, and the boy nodded.
"Aye. I feel the same!"
Then there was a series of muffled "whumps" from far away, and a moment later, explosions echoed through the tunnels. Bits of the tunnel ceiling broke loose, and a strange vibration crept through the ground where they stood. Startled yelps were heard, and then a louder explosion sent its thundering noise into the world under the volcano, and awoke cries, shouts and curses from its present inhabitants, who seem to emerge from everywhere. Hook smiled; proud of his ship and his men. He knew he could trust them with such a job.
Peter grimaced, recognizing the pirate's expression. 'Yes, the buccaneers are quite good with those guns. Well, at last the codfish is good for something!'
The confusion of heavy footsteps drew nearer, commands were given in a strange rough language; anger and confusion in their voices. Peter gripped the handle of his dagger tighter. "Good luck, Hook!" he murmured; once more observing good form.
The pirate-captain lifted a brow; knowing exactly why the boy had said it. "The same to you, Pan! And – careful!" He saw the surprised look of the boy and grinned, "I need your ass in one piece to free my ship!"
Peter laughed. And then they saw the first enemies approaching: Goblins, swinging their swords or lances; Impets, no higher than a four-year-old, but you couldn't make out were the human part ended and where the beast began, but considering their claws and fangs it didn't really matter; Duergars, dark-clad dwarfs with darker faces, shaded eyes and deadly sharp picks in their hands; and several other creatures neither Peter nor Hook didn't recognize. Behind them four large trolls tramped heavily through the tunnel, growling menacingly. The allies waited until the first enemies had passed them by, then suddenly Peter and Hook both jumped out of their hideaways, shouting the same command: "NOW!"
And the enemy was engaged …
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Giliath had pressed himself against the rock; waiting impatiently for it to begin. Since the rose fairy had left them to warn the others, time had stretched. The Elf sighed silently. He hoped against hope that the two tiny friends (or lovers, which remained to be seen) reached the ship unharmed.
As is always the case, when you're actually doing something, you don't stop to consider the 'what ifs' and 'could be's,' but in an enforced waiting period, the oddest thoughts wander through your mind. And even if Elves maintained control, Giliath was subject to this. And so it was no wonder that he thought of the chance they could be betrayed, if Aurora and Kailen were caught during her way back to the Jolly Roger. Finally he scolded himself. The two wore their new camouflaged cloaks, were quite small and quick, full of courage and cleverness – especially the pixie. For a moment he smiled. The news that the rose-fairy was befriended and aided by a pixie would make a bigger noise in Neverland than one of those cannons! Well, sometimes the darkest times brought the brightest ones; remarkable friendships were made and enemies became allies.
Suddenly low booms came to him, and then a hissing. Giliath pressed himself backward, and explosions shook the entrance. Cries echoed toward them. Another long volley hit the same area and then an impact shook the part of the mountain where he stood. Dust rolled through the tunnel; screams of death and injury followed. Then silence returned, only interrupted from moans and falling stones, loosened in the tunnels.
Giliath waited another long moment, to see if the guns were finished or if there would be a second salvo, but when no further explosions came, he left his cover. He exchanged a quick glance with his comrades and drew his sword. "Gurth gothrim Tel'Quessir – death to the foes of the Elves!" he shouted, rushed the entrance in attack.
As far as he could see in the thick dust, the cannons had done a great job. The two catapults were now heaps of broken wood, one troll was dead (a large disgusting stone-figure) and several Goblins had been finished off as well. The survivors whirled around in surprise, shocked by seven Elves leaping at them like an attack by tigers – precise, quick, deadly. The Goblins, who were still able to fight, drew their swords and the troll lifted his cudgel, but the Elfish warriors were too quick for them. Giliath's long sword whirled among his enemies as if it had a life of its own, and his comrades were just as quick.
The Elves knew Goblins enough not to underestimate them. Yes, the creatures had been surprised by the attack from no-where, but in a blink of an eye, they fought well enough to injure one of the Elves. But, in truth, they had no chance. With the keen skill and determination that made an Elf so dangerous, Giliath and his comrades eliminated every one, and two well-placed arrows killed the troll. In minutes, Giliath and the others had finished this part of the battle, and hastened back into the mountain; ready to help their comrades with the main force of the enemy.
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Thalion wrapped himself around the two boys; shielding them with his own body as the cannons created their havoc. He must have been crazy to allow children into battle! Yes, yes, their home, they were brave, well trained and all that, but they were children! and a child's place was not in a war!
Around him the fight raged, and releasing the boys, his bright sword flashed like heaven's own lightning among their enemies, but the foes were many – far more than they had thought. He raised his voice and shouted new commands. Instantly his warriors formed a new front and he saw the two boys aligning themselves into it. The pirates with them saw the new formation and built their own to stalk the enemies. Grim satisfaction was evident on their faces now that they could finally fight the way they knew best.
Thalion's quick change of strategy proved effective. Trapped between two lines of fearless attackers, the dark creatures found themselves surrounded, and fought without hesitation. Deploying everything they had – not only weapons, but fangs and claws, too – they met their attackers with fury. But the Elves and pirates were ready. Foremost in their minds (after survival) was the knowledge that they had to defeat this enemy, or lose everything, that there would be nothing left – in this world or the other – to live for.
Suddenly Thalion heard behind him a great booming death cry and whirled about, ready to strike – and faced Nibs. t the boy's feet lay a extraordinarily large Goblin who had charged the Elf with his lance. The Nikerym – captain – stared at the fallen enemy and realized that he must owe the boy his life. Had he thought only moments ago that children shouldn't be in a war? Well, probably most children, but certainly not these boys, who grinned at him, then turned and defeated two black dwarves, side by side. Thalion sent up a word of thanks for the protection. He would thank the boys later. Shouting new commands he reformed his men, and began a new offensive.
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On board the Jolly Roger the mood had risen to cheering level. Billy Jukes, who had ciphered Long Tom's trajectory by himself, watched the explosion light up the intended target, observing with the spyglass he had taken earlier that morning from the commander's cabin. The 'Mount of No Return' was visible, despite the lack of true daylight (all this day could produce), towering high above (and within view of the ship) between the cliffs. But without the fairy's direction, the buccaneer would never have found the opening they needed to fire upon. Even through the spyglass, it was no more than a tiny black spot in the landscape. But Billy Jukes was an excellent gunman, and knew Long Tom better than his own watch pocket. And he knew also that his captain trusted him with this weapon completely – and he would not disappoint Hook. Not only it could turn out to dangerous to life and limb, but he was proud of his commander's faith in his abilities.
Aurora and Kailen, who had slapped their hands over their ears as the cannons fired, celebrated and embraced each other momentarily, before the rose-fairy released the pixie; clearly embarrassed. Sebastian, one of the other two of Long Tom's gun crew, whacked him on the shoulder. "Well shot, Bill!" he shouted joyfully and grinned.
"Aye! T'e cap'n will be most pleased!" Frank, the other shipmate and gunner added.
Jukes seemed to grow a few inches, and met the benevolent glance of the two Elves. "You have good eyes and a sure hand, Mr. Jukes," Nihal said. "My compliments."
From the main-deck and the cannon-decks below cheers erupted as well, and Bill felt his cheeks heating up. Alas, he, a pirate, was blushing! He was glad for the darkness, for his mates would surely never let him forget about it!
Suddenly loud screeches sounded from above, and all heads jerked up. Huge wings descended from the twilight and knife-sharp talons came at them. "HARPIES!" Emorlhi and Jukes shouted like one, leaping into action. Drawing their swords, they formed a circle with the two other pirates and Nihal, while Kailen pulled Aurora roughly behind him toward the companionway for shelter. In a fight with harpies, the tiny folk wouldn't stand a chance.
The other pirates, gunners from the main-deck, did the same as Jukes and the others, remembering the instructions from the Elves about harpies. After all, they were outnumbered, even with two Elves as backup. The other gunners from the lower decks heard the warning and raced up the companionway, ready to help. Just before reaching the main-deck, a small figure emerged off to the side – a figure they all remembered from several days ago, one who'd surprised them all with is words from the yardarm. They halted abruptly and glanced at the little miniature of a Spanish pirate. "Onward and upward, lads, and kick their feathered arses, ye dogs!" Esteban commanded. "And don't make me leave m' favorite ship!"
With that he disappeared, and, momentarily astonished, the buccaneers simply stared at the spot he'd just disappeared from. Then Lambert cried, "What're we waitin' fer!" and with loud war-cries, they ran on deck.
The harpies seemed to be everywhere, but the Elves' arrows found many of them in the air, and many fell because of the determination of the pirates. This crew had faced so many dangers by this time that the harpies weren't even a challenge – not really – and, after all, some of the men had fought them before. Their razor-sharp weapons whirled among these attackers, while they ignored the empty threats and curses of the winged beasts. Dozens of the ugly witches lay dead or wounded on the deck. Several of the buccaneers had taken injury. The cold air was filled with the noise and shouts of battle.
Inside the captain's quarters, Wendy crouched down between the tall carved bookshelves and the desk, in the shadows, her back pressed to the bulkhead, holding the three boys and the trembling Hobgoblin close to her. After she heard the cheers outside, she had dared to believe that everything would be all right and that the harpies wouldn't come. But her hopes were dashed moments later. The boys were frightened, and Wendy had to admit that she was, too. The memories of her last encounter with those awful creatures were all too clear, and – somehow, unbelievably – the cuts on her arm and hip had started to sting, reminding her of the outcome of that battle.
'Yes, they are deadly, but Red-Handed Jill is deadlier!' something whispered way down deep.
"What if the harpies defeat the pirates?" Michael whispered.
"They won't win," Wendy answered with conviction. "They are Hook's pirates, and they are the most able fighters on the Seven Seas. Don't you remember the stories I told you about them?" Her little brother nodded, and the Twins stared up at her. "Well, then you know they'll defeat those oversized crows!"
Bumblyn lifted his little face to her as well; his eyes wide as saucers. "Your confidence would call me to a fine merriment, were not the brambles of fright and a fickle foreboding trippin' me up," he chirped, his little voice unsteady. Wendy took a deep breath, and outside, something loud rumbled and shouts were heard. She pulled the boys closer to her and closed her eyes, as she started to pray.
On deck, the buccaneers fought, holding back nothing. Courage can accomplish many things, even when you find yourself outnumbered. And after a span of minutes, the harpies retreated, regrouping high above the ship, screaming their frustration to the darkened skies. Over half of them had fallen prey to the pirates' merciless blades, as well as the Elf arrows and swords.
Albino held his bloody left arm, looking around and panting. "Not bad," he said and grinned.
Cecco and Skylight nodded. "Aye! T'ey've seen 'nuff!" the giant black buccaneer smirked.
"We'll see!" Billy Jukes said between heaving breaths. He remembered the long battle with the vicious creatures only a few nights before.
"I do not believe that it is over," Emorlhi said, who approached them. His hair was tousled, his cape torn in two places and he bled from a cut on his head.
"They will return," Nihal affirmed; his own appearance similar.
"Listen!" Emorlhi said sharply, and all voices died as he turned his face to the sea and the island. He exchanged a quick glance with Nihal, whose eyes widened. "Alrinachs!" he whispered and whirled around to the pirates. "Quickly! Fill your ears with cotton! Alrinachs are coming!" he ordered hastily, grabbing the pieces of cotton-wool they'd passed out earlier, and stuffing them in his ears.
The pirates hurried to do the same, as the white creatures moved in from the darkness and surrounded them – gliding swiftly on the breath of the enemy. Gentle laughing feminine voices filled the air with soothing melodies, slender hands stretched toward the pirates and moved to fondle their faces and hair, long white arms embracing them softly. The two Elves quickly assessed the scene around them before moving as one to help the others. But they were accosted by the tempting, beautiful creatures before they could reach the pirates. The material in their ears protected them against the direct seductive aural assault, but the some frequencies reached them in spite of the makeshift earplugs. Steeling themselves against the Alrinachs' influence, they tried to dodge the misty creatures and to reach the men in time to save them.
Inside the Captain's quarters, the children held their breaths, hearing the dangerous melodious voices of the Alrinachs. Luckily, most of the sound was blocked by the thick bulkheads, so faint they were not influenced by the voices.
"What now?" the first twin asked, terrified.
"They'll kill the pirates!" the second added shakily.
"Even Nihal and Emorlhi can't help them now!" Michael added, now even paler.
"They'll get us all!" Bumblyn whimpered, and his tail wrapped tightly around Wendy's waist.
From outside the singing grew, and – collecting all her courage – the girl rose, pushing her charges aside. She then tiptoed to the door, pressing her ear on the wood. She thought she could hear the strong singing of the two Elves, who were attempting to drown out the voices of the Alrinachs, but they fought a fight they couldn't win. Against so many of the enemy, they were nearly ineffective.
Wendy squeezed her eyes shut, thinking quickly. If there had been more Elves, they might stand a chance against the deadly spells woven by the enemy, but soon the pirates would be too weak to stand on their own two feet, and then the harpies would find easy prey. The boys – if the pirates failed, the two Elves overpowered, the terrible creatures would find them here as well. What would happen then was … not worth thinking about. And they weren't even armed!
Armed … Not armed?
Her sharp eyes darted around the big cabin, saw the fencing swords on the wall, the case of daggers, and … the harpsichord …
The harpsichord!
She remembered how sweetly it's melody reached over the deck the night Hook had brought her to the Jolly Roger the first time, how the song had pierced the night, enticing her to the unlatched door of his cabin, and how she enjoyed listening to him play. (He had played a song he had composed himself – as Smee had proudly told her – and even if the lyrics hadn't been very civilized – something about 'walking the plank' – the melody had lured her.) And human melodies were poison for the Alrinachs! And the harpsichord could be heard all over the ship, if only the door were open!
But …
No more time! That moment, Wendy made her decision. She knew this was their chance to turn the tables. She dashed to the secret door, hidden behind the bookshelf, opened it and pointed into the darkness. "Take a candle with you and hide down in Hook's private store!" she ordered the boys.
They all started asking questions at the same time, but Wendy cut them off with, "Not now!" she answered sharply. "No time to waste, or we all die tonight! In you go, and don't you dare return before I give you the signal!" The boys looked at each other; still hesitating. "NOW!" the girl hissed, and her brother and the Twins jumped, obeying. Taking a candle with them they ran through door. "And touch nothing down there! Those treasures belong to Captain Hook!" she added firmly.
Then she turned toward the Hobgoblin; sounding quite a lot like her mother. "Go with them – and protect them should something happen!"
Bumblyn hesitated. "But I must remain --"
"You can help me best by looking after them! Now GO! Every second we waste costs another life!" Her tone allowed no argument. The little Hobgoblin turned and darted after the three boys into the darkness, lit only by the candle Michael was carrying.
Wendy pushed the shelf back into place behind them, collecting herself, eyeing the beautiful instrument, then the door. "You've lost your mind, Wendy!" she whispered, and ran to the door before she could change her mind. She quickly pulled it open – instantly the Alrinach's songs sounded louder and she nearly collapsed under their effect. Shaking herself firmly, she ran to the harpsichord and sat down on the bench.
The keyboard was no different than the one on the piano in the front parlor at home, and she easily found middle C, the starting place on any keyboard. Her hands touched the keys, and in her memory, she felt the sweet music of Schubert's 'Serenade' she had memorized. Her fingers moved over the keys – and the beautiful music circled into the icy twilight. Wendy didn't try to think anymore, she simply played the music with her heart. As the Serenade finished, she began a waltz of Johann Strauss, loved by London society since its debut at the marriage of Queen Victoria with Prince Albert of Hanover. From far away she thought she could hear painful screams, mingled with angry masculine shouts and curses, but she didn't let them distract her. She was caught up in the world that music was to her, and it gave her strength and restored her courage.
It was working! The singing of the Alrinachs had died away! They had fled!
Suddenly an obnoxious screech interrupted the music – a screech that she knew. Startled she looked up, found herself again in Hook's cabin – and a harpy swaying on the threshold. The girl frowned as a new energy swept through her, reminding her that she'd faced these before, preparing her for action. Her heart thudded in her ears as the harpy tottered a careful step into the cabin; looking warily around. From outside she could still hear the noise of battle; the men fighting against the returning harpies, who had been ordered there by the dark one to assist the Alrinachs. But they had fled after her music had almost driven them insane. This one now approaching had come to see where the music came from.
Wendy frowned and rose slowly; her own eyes darting about the cabin for a weapon. The only way out was through the secret door, which she would never use – it would reveal where the boys were!
The harpy made another step forward, glaring at her with glistening, hateful eyes. "Not nice, little girl – chasing our nieces away with that noissssse!" She barely understood its words, while it slavered. Wendy was stiff with horror, hearing it address her, then she slowly backed away, putting the harpsichord between her and the intruder.
She gasped as a second harpy appeared in the door, even uglier than the first, showing her sharp teeth. "Now what have we here?" she hissed, and her sister responded.
"It'ssss her fault that our friendssss had to flee!" the first one cackled, and Wendy faced two very grim horrors. She opened her mouth to reply with the first thing that came to mind, and watched a third harpy trail along after the first two. Her heart in her throat, she glanced around and her look fell on the two training-swords that hung crossed on the wall. Their blades shimmered in the dim light and a desperate idea formed in her mind.
The first harpy pounced into the middle of the cabin; her wings extended to keep her balance, difficult because their long talons made walking unstable. One wing grazed the wooden globe, which rolled off its rack and landed with a 'thump' on the floor, rolling into a corner. The three creatures watched it roll, as well as Wendy, who snapped at them, "Be careful! The Captain will be angry if you disturb his quarters!"
An eerie giggling was her answer, mingled with mocking comments. "The man will not scold you!" one of them cackled. "You'll be much too dead to worry about it!" the other one croaked, "and dinner!" her other sister laughed.
Wendy swallowed, and moved slowly – inching toward the swords. Another harpy spread her wings and grazed the cabinet, Hook's stock of chemicals he used to mix medicine (and poison, as she knew). The small cabinet swayed a little bit – and the girl thought her heart would stand still, Hook's orders not to touch his belongings ringing in her ears. "Stop that!" she cried, and the ragged head with the white witch-face jerked toward her.
This harpy giggled, flapped her powerful wings – and the cabinet toppled. The vials and flagons tumbled around, several remaining intact, others broken and their contents mingling with each other. "Sssso sssorry!" the feathered beast snickered, and her sisters paused to howl with laughter.
A new anger awoke in Wendy. Egad, Hook would blow a cork! "Be grateful if he doesn't use your dirty feathers for a new mattress!" she said, incensed, and earned more laughter.
"Sistersssssss, how are your appetitessssss?" the first one called, closing the distance to the girl.
Wendy reacted, her head clear now and her instincts on alert. With one quick movement, she was at the wall, withdrew one of the swords, and held the ornate golden hilt in both hands as she raised the blade toward the uninvited guests. "Hungry? Then try this!" she shouted – and ducked under the first harpy as it took the air (as high as possible in the cabin) driving her blade upward toward its belly.
She only grazed the winged monster, but she drew blood, and the creature let out a terrible squeal. Immediately, the two other harpies were in the air over her, clawing at her, but Wendy used the sword with a competence born of need. Instinctively, she had the blade dancing between the two attackers, striking here a wing, there a talon, stripping feathers.
They were infuriated – they couldn't imagine that this pathetic excuse for a female could show so much resistance! They retreated and one turned and attacked again, but the girl was still on guard and drove her long blade home, right through the giblets into its black heart. The harpy let out a dying gurgle and tumbled to the ground; her blood beginning to soak into the Oriental carpet. But that only provoked the two feathered atrocities to another attack. They spread their wings and tottered toward her; one hopping into the air.
Sounds of more breakage told her that something else had been knocked askew, but the girl had no time to mourn the damage. Holding the large heavy sword in her right hand, she drew Giliath's dagger, using the sword to fend off the harpy above her, and the dagger to keep the other on guard.
The one that now crouched in front of her was the harpy she already wounded in the belly, which slowed it. As its head darted at her again and again, it pecked at her with its sharp teeth, the girl dodging. Suddenly Wendy lunged under the ugly jaws with the dagger, slicing its wattled throat, nearly taking off its outrageous head, and with a nasty gabbling sound, the harpy collapsed near its dead sister.
The last harpy screamed in hatred and leaped, stretched her talons toward the girl, and Wendy leaped aside as they gashed the carpet. The winged beast collided with the door to the other room, and its claws left deep gouges in the wood. It fell, jumped up, whirled about and screamed bizarre, unlikely curses at Wendy. Then, with a mighty flap of her wings, the harpy was back near the ceiling, and lunged at the girl again. The charts, documents, pens and inkpots were swept from the desk by the wings. Wendy dodged away, again raising her blades. The monster pushed against the desk toward Wendy, sending it hard against the wall; breaking off a leg. The drawers were dislodged, and papers flew everywhere. But Wendy would not be distracted, concentrating completely on this enemy who seemed as determined as herself.
Taking a fighting-stance, and holding both blades as Hook instructed, she kept her eyes on the last harpy, waiting again for its attack, finally driving the long blade of the sword into the beast's chest while she used the dagger to slash its throat. She paid no attention to the blood that splattered about her, nor the mortal danger she was in. She simply fought with an instinct she'd learned months before. She felt a white energy pulsing through her – an energy that made her quicker, and at the same time aware, clearheaded.
As the third harpy fell at her feet, she straightened and turned – only to face two more. One of them perched on the four-poster and the other one on the fallen chair that Bumblyn had slept on. "Are you tired of living?" the girl challenged, her eyes flinty and her voice hard. Aunt Millicent would never have recognized her now. The two beasts stared at her; their flat yellow eyes glowed like coals from the devil's hell. They exchanged a short glance with each other – and struck as one.
Wendy ducked and swung at them, but they dodged out of reach, parted, circled away and returned. She immediately made another sally, but the harpy she thrust at avoided her weapon. Wendy almost lost her balance, stumbled forward, and her blade slammed into one of the bookshelves, lodging deeply in the wood.
Using one of Hook's own oaths, she released the now useless blade, avoided the talons of the second harpy and spun to one of the fathom-tall candlesticks that stood all about the cabin. Shoving the dagger into her belt, she took the heavy metal candlestick in both hands and swung it like a cudgel, striking one of the harpies directly on its ugly head, the unlit candle rolling away into the debris from the desk. The impact nearly made her lose her grip, but she held on, and swung the heavy thing once again with all her might. The harpy, dizzy from the first blow, was too dazed to avoid it, the second blow being the fatal one, its skull now deeply dented.
Panting, Wendy spun around, facing the last harpy behind her, which was using the table as a base to launch herself at the girl. It catapulted toward her. Wendy ducked again, hearing the breaking of glass and crockery, this time using the candlestick like a lance, blocking the attack midair. The impact with the creature was too much for Wendy, and knocked her backward, stumbling over the stool of the harpsichord and falling against the instrument.
She fell hard and the winged beast lunged for her. The sharp talons of the harpy got caught in the Elfish material of her doublet, and had it been made of ordinary cotton, the claws would have torn it to shreds. But the soft, silky material was far more resistant than it looked, and the talons never reached her skin. Desperately, Wendy tried to hold the harpy's sharp fangs from her face by pressing the candlestick against the beast's throat, but the beast was strong – strong enough to threaten a powerful man like James Hook, as we already know. And a small girl, brave as she was, couldn't hold it off.
Suddenly the harpy screamed in enraged surprise and reared back, releasing the girl, twisting her neck around to look behind her in the region of her leg. A high, familiar voice shouted an endless curse that ended with the words: "You really taste worse than eight week old tomaties and eggs!"
The winged beast shrieked and spun to claw the Hobgoblin, who leaped away, wiping his mouth and spitting, and under-ran the harpy's attack. Wendy understood that the nimble little tyke had now climbed up on her back in a flash, yanked on her wild hair and jerked hard at it, making the creature half mad. Wendy used this fortuitous moment to draw her dagger, and slashed the beast's exposed throat. With a gurgling whimper, the harpy sagged, and collapsed.
The girl pushed her away, jumping to her feet. Breathing heavily, she looked around wildly, but there were no more foes. Silence had finally fallen over the ship, interrupted occasionally by men's voices outside on deck. She found Bumblyn, who had fallen off the harpy's back. He rose now from where he'd landed, and looked around for others as well. His hat was missing and his trousers showed blood from the battle, but otherwise he seemed unharmed.
"Last one," he chirped; suddenly grinning. Still panting Wendy leaned against the bookshelf, yanking the sword free and dropping it onto the less-than-pristine Oriental carpet. As the excitement died down, she went weak and staggered to one of the chairs still standing, where she flopped onto the seat.
Her eyes appraised the five dead creatures, in their different death postures – and she began to tremble. Now, after the danger, the fact that she had been attacked and had fought off five of these terrible creatures sank in, and stifling something between a sob and a laugh, she wrapped her arms around her.
Bumblyn hobbled over to her and looked compassionately at her. "Be you well?" he asked, and Wendy covered her face with her hands, while a single tear rolled down between two fingers.
"Wendy?"
Looking up, she spotted Michael and the Twins standing at the threshold of the secret-door; looking about with amazement. "Come forward and close that door!" the Hobgoblin ordered, sounding quite firm, and the boys obeyed.
"Wendy, are you all right?"
"How did you do it?"
"Did we win?" The questions tumbled around her. They ran around the cabin, poking at the dead harpies. "Wendy, did YOU kill all of them?" Michael asked, eyes shining with adoration of his older sister.
The questions bubbled out of the boys. Wendy took a deep breath, rose on shaky legs and gathered them into her arms. There was no inch on her body that didn't hurt just then, and for a moment, she almost let go and allowed the sobs to pour out of her.
Then, taking another deep breath she swallowed her tears just in time, for she heard quick steps behind her, and surprised gasps. At the door stood the two Elves – disheveled and injured. Over their shoulders hung a bewildered pixie and fairy who then circled the fallen enemies. "Are you hurt?" Nihal asked, panting, leaning against the bulkhead. Behind him, the pirates filled the doorway; stopping when they saw the carnage in their captain's cabin.
Wendy shook her head and sat down in the middle of the quarters on a clean spot as her legs gave way again, and looked around. The lopsided desk (with its broken leg) and fallen chairs, sheets of parchments all over, the candlestick twisted and bent, and deep gouges were in the door of the little room. Fluid dripped from the cabinet that had toppled (its glass door smashed) and broken crockery was scattered about the dining-area where dishes had been sent by the last harpy's wings. White down hung in the air from a torn pillow. The shelf where she'd buried the sword was sagging dangerously. Blood was splattered everywhere. The carpet was gashed. The wooden globe had rolled under the table. The whole cabin looked like … well, like what it was: a battlefield.
Only the harpsichord was, miraculously, untouched. Suddenly the instrument's heavy lid fell shut with a loud "bang," as the prop had been pushed off-balance when Wendy had tumbled into it, making everyone jump.
Wendy, lowered her head into her hands and whispered: "Hook is going to kill me!"
TBC…
Hi, everyone!
I hope you liked this chapter. Well, this was only the start. In the next chapter our dear Giliath has to learn that even an Elf is not invulnerable and Peter will be in deep water. As said: the battle has just begun.
Thank you so much for the many and loooooong reviews.
Love you all
Lywhn
