Chapter 28 - A Nasty Trap

With a sound like an earthquake, the troll hit the ground and transformed to stone, lying directly in the path of the allies and the fleeing Goblins. Several Elves sent their arrows after them, while the pirates started to cheer.

Peter's grin stretched from ear to ear, his face beaded with sweat, his white teeth and eyes glowing in his sun-browned face. He loved a good fight. It sharpened him, and was great fun, as only a child could think. But fighting off dozens of Goblins, Impets and four trolls (which were finally taken down by the Elves) had cost him. Aside from that, here, in the 'Mount of No Return' it was warm. Too warm, and if not for the sharp claws and fangs he faced, Peter would have put off his winter garb. But they were protection, and he suffered from the heat. He lost his cape somewhere during the fight when an Impet had caught it in its claws, and he popped the clasp to escaped the snarling beast. His clothes were torn, and he'd had to doff the boots or lose footing. Feeling the heat, he pulled off the doublet as well. At last he stood fighting in his summer clothes, along with the rest of the allies. For the first time since Neverland's affliction had begun, he felt the sense of the freedom he knew.

"We did it!" John cried, turning around to grin at Peter. If his classmates could see him now! John Darling, bookworm and scholastic over-achiever, had fought Goblins, beasts with claws fangs that rivaled a lion's, and even faced a troll! Well! He was sure that none of the other boys who used to mock him could have faced such horrible foes and done better! 'They would have run, screaming to their mothers,' he chuckled to himself.

Suddenly, another face came to mind: copper skin, shimmering almond eyes, and braided black hair. His heart leapt at the thought of Tiger-Lily. He knew that she would be proud of him, and suddenly, this was all that mattered, even more than the other boys, more than his mother.

Slightly pressed his hand over a cut on his forehead, grinning broadly. "Yah! Your mother was a dung beetle and your father was a sloth!" he shouted joyfully. "Make ya think twice about follerin' a wizard, ya percolated periwinks! Hey, John, look! They're running like rabbits!" Then he winced and pressed his other hand to his forehead. That really hurt!

John saw his movement and the blood on his friend's face. "That doesn't look good," he commented, and Slightly shook his head.

"Just guess how it feels!"

Peter was watching the fleeing creatures. He laughed again, nodded, and turned to look for a certain tall man in black. He and Hook had fought back to back, creating a deadly team that dispatched the sinister creatures by the handful, until they had been forced apart. They'd lost sight of each other, but now, as this particular battle was over, Peter remembered how they seemed to complete each other. Exchanging a quick glance with his two friends and a very tousled Tinker Bell he raised his voice. "Hook?" he said cautiously.

No answer came through the celebration of the buccaneers or the shrieks of the retreating creatures. With an uneasy feeling, Peter pushed through the allies, looking around. Where was the pirate? "Hook?" he called again, his eyes darting from one man to the next. "Hook? Are you all right?" he yelled, feeling an unexpected and unwelcome alarm growing, as a heavy hand landed on his now bare shoulder.

"Granny's garters, Pan, you sound like you're worried about me!" mocked the deep voice behind him, but the boy could hear amusement in the tone as well.

Grinning, he spun around, wildly denying to himself that this elated feeling in his heart was not relief! "Hallo, Hooky! There you are! I thought without my protection the Goblins gotcha!" he teased.

Hook frowned momentarily, saw the amusement dancing in the boy's eyes (the first time for several days now -- he had somehow missed it,) and smirked. "Very interesting: I thought the same about you, you wretched urchin!"

Peter laughed openly, and looked the captain over for sign of wounds. His beard had of course grown during the last two days and was beginning to look like a full beard (he had eschewed Smee's ministrations in the dim light of the torches). He was bruised and had sustained some minor cuts, but no seriously damage. "I think we won!" the eternal boy grinned, and was surprised to see Hook shaking his head.

"Don't celebrate until you're out of the woods, Peter. There are certainly more of them, and they will return; most assuredly in greater numbers than before."

His young opponent rolled his eyes. "Who's the dismal prognosticator this time?"

"I'm not 'dismal,' I am simply realistic!" the buccaneer shot back; turning toward Smee, who managed to stay close. "Any losses?"

"Three men, Sir, and one Elf," the bosun replied; looking as if he'd been minced. He was still fighting for breath, and rubbed his tired eyes under his spectacles. He really was getting too old for this. "What shall we do with them and ones more seriously injured?"

"How many are too hurt to fight anymore?"

"Seven, Sir!"

Hook nodded and chewed his moustache, thinking. "I'd like to send them to the ship, but I think they'll be safer here. Help those seven to the weapons-room. This portion of the underground is secure now, and they can wait until we return to move them. Take the rest there as well. Are Frank and Per are among those injured?" As his bosun shook his head, the commander added: "They are competent as surgeons. They can stay with us."

"Shall I send 'em with t'e others to t'e weapons room, Sir? I don't think that our boys'll survive if t'ey ain't treated."

Hook rubbed his eyes, suddenly very aware of Peter's gaze. He knew how the boy saw the matter: he would be certain that his injured friends would get the best handling possible. And the pirate didn't want to stay behind in this case, even if it was born out of a foolish pride. "Yes, Frank and Per shall help them. Hurry now. It won't be long before they're back with reinforcements."

"Peter?" That was John. "Have a look at Slightly, would you?"

Compelled by John's urgent tone, he turned, saw the blood on his friend's face and ran to him.

Hook turned also, but was distracted by Cookson and several Elves, returning from their attack on the common-room, below the ledge. The ship's cook grinned like a picket fence. "T'ey're all gone to hell, Cap'n," he reported, and one Elf came forward; a nasty cut on his left arm.

"They stood no chance against our arrows and your weapons, Captain," he said in a deep voice.

Hook was satisfied. "That means that we have won the first round, if Thalion was successful as well."

The Elf lifted one brow. "Do you doubt this, Captain?"

The pirate gave him a sidelong glance, and saw that even an Elf's pride could be pricked. "You and your people are capable, but even you can be defeated if the enemy has superior numbers. Along with that, accidents happen," he answered, most diplomatically, tilting his head at the casualty. The warrior returned his gaze, nodded and went to the others, who knelt beside their dead comrade.

Hook ordered Cookson and a Alf Mason (who only had a minor injury) to retrieve their comrades who were worse off, and turned his attention back to the Elves. For a moment he watched their guests, how they knelt, bowed their heads, holding right hands above the fallen man, and started a soft chant, while a gentle light began to surround the little group. With an uneasy shudder, the pirate-captain turned away. Knowing that someone had magical abilities, then seeing it (again) practiced were two different pairs of shoes, and it made him very uncomfortable. He expected that the behavior of the Elves had something to do with their religion (a sort of ritual, possibly?), and he, who had no qualms about killing, was sensible enough to give an ally time and room to mourn a lost friend.

Peter treated Slightly's injury, and heard Hook approaching from behind. He glanced up and saw that the buccaneer was critically observing the Lost Boy. "How bad is it?" he asked roughly, seeing that the boy had a serious cut.

Slightly managed a grin. "Not bad, it just stings."

Peter made a sound of frustration, clearly concerned. "That's a typical Slightly understatement. I can see bone!"

His friend shrugged. "Well, it was only –"

Slightly stopped, as Hook put his iron claw under his chin and tilted his head to one side, before he pulled out a handkerchief from his waistcoat, cleaned a bit of the boy's face and examined the cut. "This has to be stitched. Go see Frank over there!" he pointed with his hook on a slender, tall man with dark hair and light blue eyes. "He'll help you." He looked at John. "Go with him. Stitching does more than just 'sting'."

John's eyes darted to Peter – who jerked his head toward Frank – sighed, took Slightly by one arm and pulled him toward the pirate; hoping that the buccaneer had gentle hands. Peter rubbed his eyes. It wasn't the first time that one of them received a scratch during their adventures, but this one was an exceptionally nasty one. "Don't worry, Pan. Frank will take good care of him. He is a miserable gunman, but an excellent swordsman and even better sawbones, the very reason why I keep him on the ship."

Peter looked askance at the pirate-captain. Had Hook just tried to reassure him? No, he wouldn't! But what he saw in the man's blue eyes was only sincerity.

Suddenly Hook became aware of what he had just done, growled something under his breath and turned away abruptly. Bewildered, the boy watched him stalk off. Well, THAT was a new experience. Completely unnerving for both of them. Before this situation began, he knew all about the pirate-captain (so he thought). Things were simple: Hook was the villain who tried to kill him. End of story. But now, Peter was becoming aware that his sworn enemy was more than that – even as his ally. Hook had a side the boy had never suspected. He hadn't even tried to see anything in the pirate than a foe – until now, but the man had proven him wrong only a minute ago. Again. Maybe he was finally seeing something in the buccaneer that Wendy had already seen. There had to be a reason why she was so … so … soft toward the pirate, and he toward her. And the eternal boy started to understand that Hook could be pleasant if he was given a reason to.

Sighing, Peter rubbed his eyes. Why had everything become so complicated? Life had been so simple and now –

Voices were approaching, and among them one he knew well. A smile split his face when he turned and saw Giliath jogging toward him. Relief was on the Elf's face when he saw the boy mostly unharmed, and he stopped before him, laying a warm hand on Peter's shoulder. "You are well?" he asked, his green eyes sparkling.

Peter grinned back. "Aye! Arms and legs all where they belong," he joked, and found himself in a warm embrace. He wasn't used to physical affection like this (except from Wendy, of course, but that was different!) For a moment he stiffened, and then he couldn't deny that it felt bloody good to be held; to find security in the strong embrace of a – a grownup. Sweet Lord, have mercy on him! He had never admitted it before; not even to himself. But just now it felt far too good to care what the others thought of him. Surrendering to the need to feel safe for a moment, he wrapped his arms around the Elf and sighed. In that moment, he realized he could smell the Elf: forest, sandalwood and something he was not familiar with. And it was very comforting. Even his headache seemed to grow less for a moment and with a sigh, he relaxed.

Giliath smiled as he felt the boy, rigid at first, relax and lean on him. Yes, Peter was a fighter, a warrior, even as young as he was, but he was also a child. And every child needed affection and comfort, and the Elf was the last person to deny his little brother something he needed so desperately. It was several seconds before the boy lifted his head and shyly grinned at him. "Sorry. I… I only wanted… " Peter blushed, and Giliath gave a wry grin; looking straight through him.

"You didn't want to push me away. I know. Diola alle, mellon min."

Peter nodded, and let go of the Elf; clearing his throat. A snigger came from behind him, and he didn't need to turn to know that it was Hook. "Dear me! Master Pan giving hugs. I'm surprised, boy. I never thought you could express such a simple human need."

Ears aflame, Peter whirled around to snap at the man, but Hook had already passed by and was on his way toward the injured men being carried away. Peter stuck his tongue out in his direction; grumbling something about "typical Hook," and "old codfish." Giliath laughed aloud at him, and received a half-grin from his young friend. And only his sharp Elfish ears caught the pirate-captain's chuckle. In his own way the buccaneer had helped the boy, even if Peter didn't understand it.

Suddenly, shouts reached them through the tunnels and Giliath whirled, weapon ready. The other Elves, who knelt still around their dead comrade, jumped as one, swords and bows already in their hands. "They return, from the other side this time!" the he told them, and shouted commands to the others.

Hook and his pirates were already forming a new front. Their captain hastened toward Giliath. "You came from this direction, Giliath. Didn't you see anything?"

The Elf shot him a glare. "If that were so, do you really think I'd stand here making small-talk?" It was the first time he said anything remotely rude, but his nerves were standing on a thin edge.

Hook paused, blinking, surprised, then he made a face. "Your celebrated Elfin tranquility has come to an end, I see. Good to see you also have limits." He turned toward his men, shouting strict orders: "All men to me! Close up that line! Draw them away from the wounded! Mr. Smee? Ready to -- "

"CAP'N!" This was Henry, another pirate. "T'ey're comin' from t'e ot'er side as well!"

Hook cursed savagely and addressed Giliath. "Split up?"

The Elf nodded, shouting orders in his own language. Instantly seven Elves rushed to the pirates to strengthen their line, while the others built a wall of defense. Turning back to Hook, he asked, "Are you sure you want attack?"

Hook snarled. "We are pirates! And pirates know how to fight! Offense is the best defense." He pointed at Peter. "Stay here! You'll be safe between the lines. And don't do anything stupid 'til I am back!"

Peter glared at him, while the ache behind his forehead seemed to grow. "What!"

"Behave just this once, Pan!" Hook growled, and charged off, leading men and Elves in the direction of the attackers.

"I'm supposed to stay here? Who does that stiff codfish think I am to order me around? One of his crew?"

Giliath almost smiled. "He's right, Peter, stay here. The second wave is probably deadlier. We need you alive to save Neverland. And you've given a promise in pearl you have to keep." He pressed the boy's right hand, then he ran off, leading the other Elves into the tunnel in the opposite direction, from which snarls and hisses issued.

Peter watched them leave, then the direction Hook and his pirates vanished, and nearly lost his temper. Blasted codfish! He, Peter Pan, would not be left behind in a fight, missing all the fun! For a moment he nearly determined to follow Hook. The other two boys had gone that way, and he really wanted to see "that look" on Hook's face because he hadn't obeyed.

Then suddenly, he heard alarming shouts from Giliath's defense, while the snarling grew louder. And louder. Peter didn't understand their language, but one quick look at Tink showed him that the Elves were in deep trouble. Could it be that they had encountered the main force of S'Hadh's army?

And then a defiant cry drowned out the sounds of the dark creatures, the death-cry of an Elf.

That did it. Ignoring Tink's wild jingling (she shared the others' opinion that Peter needed to stay put), the boy charged forward. He pushed off into the air to travel quicker, and found himself falling solidly to the ground. And it hurt!

He stared into the dim light, while Tink circled above him, sounding worried. "What…?" he whispered and rose slowly. He was bruised, scratched, and his knee bled from the fall. Wide-eyed and incredulous, he swallowed hard and tried again to launch himself in the air. This time the fall wasn't so hard, because it didn't take him by surprise, but he moaned in astonishment. For a moment, he simply sat there; too shocked to move. "Tink?" he whispered. "Why can't I fly anymore?" For a moment he thought back on this dreadful nightmare of two days ago, in which he also had been unable to fly, and something like panic awoke in him. What if this nightmare was more than a simple dream? What, if it had been something like … like a prophecy?

The fairy remembered that, too, even if she didn't dare speak it aloud. Instead she said something, and met the boy's surprised gaze.

"NO! Of course I have still my happy thoughts!" He fingered for the little sack on his belt and felt the little pearl inside, Wendy's tear. Warmth spread through him by the very thought of the girl, but before he could make another attempt to lift himself into the air, another cry reached him.

Forgetting his problem for a moment, he ran forward. Giliath needed help! And he would never abandon one of his friends! Gripping his dagger he hastened along the tunnel and soon reached the battle. He stopped short when he saw the overwhelming number the enemy had sent to fight them.

One Elf was holding off a dozen Goblins, Impets and other creatures. Three Elves were already slain, lying askew on the floor of the tunnel. Peter looked frantically for Giliath and found him in the middle of the battle. He fought with the grace and grim savagery of a white lion; the blade of his sword whirling between beasts like a silver tornado. But more Goblins were turning to attack him, and it was only a question of time before they would overpower him.

Feeling a joyous rage thundering in his ears, Peter gripped his dagger more firmly and threw himself in the middle of the fight. Tink screamed something like 'come back', but the boy was beyond her influence. Fearfully, she watched how her friend fought his way through clusters of fangs, claws, swords, lances. From her position above the fight, she saw that the Elves and Peter were hopelessly outnumbered. Torn between remaining where she could see and helping her friend (even if she didn't stand a chance against those creatures), it came to her that she might be able to summon some help. Like a golden comet, she darted back the way she and Peter had come. She saw that the whole thing had been a trap, and the only one who could help the Elves (and Peter!) were Hook and his men. He was the only one close enough to reach them in time. She had to get the pirate-captain immediately, or Peter would be captured!

Peter fought his way toward danger, flung blades out of his way, avoided lances, cut off paws and kicked Impets. Finally, gasping for breath, he reached Giliath, still fighting as three. But for every enemy struck down, three more seemed to their place. A Goblin dove in behind him, yanking on his legs. The Elf lost his balance and he was wrestled to his knees.

A Goblin commander gripped his silky hair and pulled his head back. "Where isss it, Elf?" the creature snarled, and Giliath struggled uselessly while eight Goblins hung at him and two Impets had attached themselves to his cape and doublet.

He couldn't shake them off. "Your words mean nothing to me, Saurarea, foolish one!" he hissed; his green eyes almost black with wrath.

He received a brutal blow to his head. "Don't lie! The massster hasss sssaid that you are posssessssssor! You are the one sssent to defeat ussss. Give it to me, and I'll kill you quickly!"

Giliath only spat into his face. The Goblin snarled and raised his sword to take off his head.

"Leave him alone!" the boy's treble command pierced the noise of battle, and the two Impets on Giliath's shoulder and back where hurled away as Peter used his dagger and the sword he had picked up during his fight through the crowd. The Goblin-leader looked up and his yellow eyes widened. Several of his comrades turned to rush the boy, whose blades eliminated two of the others holding Giliath down.

The Elf gasped as he finally recognized the boy. "Peter! RUN!"

The Goblin-leader stared at the human child that fought like a whirlwind, who wore the leaves. He saw the pipe on the boy's belt – and then the name the Elf used – "That isss the boy the massster wantsss! Take him, but alive!" he shouted suddenly, kicking Giliath in the belly, jumped over him and tackled Peter.

"Get off me, you ugly excuse for a dwarf!" the eternal boy snarled, and slashed with his dagger. But the Goblin blocked the weapon with his own. Two other Goblins and an Impet threw themselves on the boy, and Peter had had hands full to hold them at bay.

Giliath struck at those left holding him, twisting like a demented eel, and managed it to shake off the rest of the enemies. Quickly he rose, bent down, picked two of the Goblins off the boy and threw them away. He became aware of a sharp pain, and as he looked down, he saw a blade sticking out below his ribs.

"GILIATH!" Peter screamed and redoubled his efforts to throw off his attackers. Between enemies he saw the Elf staggering, and shook off the Goblin-leader with the strength of despair. But instantly three other Goblin were on him, and roughly forced his arms behind his back, twisted brutally so that pain exploded in him. With horror he saw another sword striking the Elf, who fell to his knees. "No! Stop!" he yelled and a hard blow sent his senses reeling.

"Sshhhut up, vermin!" The commander gripped his hair (he had to reach up to do so) and forced the writhing child to watch. "Kill the Elf!"

Again Peter struggled, icy fear gripping his heart. "NO! No, please! Let him live!" he screamed. Appalled, he saw that the most of the other Elves down; the air smelled of blood, the foul smell of death.

Giliath could feel life leaching away. But at the anguished look on the pale face of his young friend, he gathered his strength once more. Kicking away the Goblin who had thrust his sword into him, he pulled it out (darkness threatening to overpower him) and used it to defeat two opponents. He heard Peter shouting, and turned to him, feeling as though he were moving in treacle, and something burned in his left upper arm. This time he did fall. His sight blurred and he was growing dizzy. Around him he saw only the legs of his enemies, and fallen comrades.

A blow on his head, and the blackness overtook him. For a moment, he thought he saw tree trunks in front of him, sunbeams bathing them in a golden light. He thought he could hear the soft sigh of a warm wind that moved in the dark green leaves, helping the trees to sing. He could smell the sweet flowers, while above him birds chirped their agile songs to the sun. He was home – he was home! Finally he was back in his valley. He heard someone calling his name and glanced about. A woman ran toward him; her long pale hair danced like a curtain waving behind her; the sleeves of her light-green dress blew in the wind. Her green eyes, so very much like his own, shone down on him, while she touched his face as she had done since they both were small children. Smiling, he raised his own hand to touch his sister's soft fingers --

-- and another cruel blow pulled him back to the cave. The peace was gone, replaced with blood, with pain. For a second his sight cleared and he saw a look of horror on Peter's face. He thought he could hear the boy calling his name, but everything sounded as if through cotton, then movement again slowed while darkness pulled at him. He knew that he was dying. Then utterly blackness wrapped him in oblivion.

Peter felt tears rising as he watched his friend collapse, unmoving. Several of the Goblins kicked the motionless body, and the boy raged helplessly. "You venal COWARDS! You miserable white-livered chicken-hearted yellow belly! Kicking a man who's down!" he screamed ignoring the sharp slap of the Goblin commander.

"SSSilent, or you will be brought as dead flessshhh to the Massster!"

"GET. OFF. ME!" the boy snarled back, half blind with tears, and kicked the Goblin in the gut with all his might; acting out the agony in his soul that seemed to squash his heart. The creature was hurled backward and several of his underlings snickered, but quieted as he turned.

Peter saw the blow coming and steeled himself against it, knowing it didn't matter. He knew that he was a rabbit in a trap, and, even worse, had lost a wonderful friend who had been closer to him than any grownup he ever knew. As the fist slammed into his head and blackness washed over him, he almost welcomed it.

----------------------------

"T'is is madness!"

Skylight's fist slammed on the table in the common-room on board the Jolly Roger, and several of his comrades nodded.

Billy Jukes hitched up his pants, pacing back and forth from one wall to the next and back again. "Got a better idea to 'elp t'e cap'n? We be sittin' 'ere and twiddlin' 'r' thumbs, while 'r' mates and t'e cap'n fight t'e fight o' t'eir lives."

Albino, who looked as if a herd of wild horses had raced over him, cleaned his dark spectacles, which were, miraculously, still intact. "Wha' about wha' we faced?" he pointed outside. "We fought off a 'ole murder of t'ose hag-faced oversized crows and ghosts! Don't tell me t'at we ain't done nuffin in t'is whole shitload!"

"Language!" Bumblyn peeped and, moaning, pressed a cold washcloth back on his head. The fight against the harpy had given the brave tyke a number of bruises.

"And, by t'e way, our li'll Miss was t'e one 'oo frighten' t'ose nasty floaters away, and not us!" Bollard interjected, and all eyes in the room turned to the slender figure that sat at one of the tables with the three boys, looking miserable.

Skylight took pity and went to her, laying a calloused hand on her shoulder. "Don't be afraid, li'l Miss. T'e cap'n won't tear yer 'ead off."

Wendy looked up at the older pirate, who tried in his awkward way to comfort her. For the first time she didn't see in them as dirty cutthroats anymore, but men who lived life their own way, and comrades-at-arms. "No, he'll gut me, or send me off the plank again," she murmured, and dropped her head on her hands.

She didn't dare consider the mess that was above her in Hook's quarters. After they all had all recovered from the attack (the girl as well as the men), the pirates accompanied her down to their common-room; insisting that she drink a small glass of rum, ignoring Nihal's protest that she was far too young for that. Surprisingly, the buccaneers comforted her and lauded her; saying that everything would turn out to be all right and that they would help her. After all, they owed her their lives.

Billy Jukes treated the scratches she received during the fight, and Bollard fetched her a basin of fresh water to clean herself. They all were dumbfounded that a girl had fought off five harpies, and, indeed, had risked her own life by playing the harpsichord with the door open. The girl was indeed a lioness; no doubt about it! And they appreciated it!

Jukes came sat down beside her. "Na, Missy! T'e cap'n likes ye too much fer t'at." The others nodded in agreement. "And don't worry yer pretty head. We'll help ye to put it all back in order."

The Oriental nodded. "I help ye wit' t'e carpets."

"And I will refinish t'e door t' t'e closet," Mullins added.

"Aye, we'll haul out the carcasses and pick up 'is goods," Bollard volunteered.

"Ye see," Billy grinned, "when t'e cap'n comes back aboard, 'is cabin will look like new."

Wendy raised her head, feeling grateful for their attempts to cheer her up. Of course she knew that the cabin wouldn't look 'like new' to the Captain. Too many things were broken, and the blood on the walls and on the carpets would stain. They would only be removed by cleaning them repeatedly. And that glass and crockery that was destroyed, as well as containers with his chemicals and the glass cabinet couldn't be hidden from him. Hook would be outraged, to say the least. She felt cold inside.

A soft touch on her hand distracted her, and she met Bumblyn's light blue eyes. "Forget not, my lady: I am your protector!" he whispered conspiratorially, and winked at her; his flexible ears swinging back and forth.

Wendy attempted a smile. "You have already saved me, my friend. That debt is paid. You saved my life."

The Hobgoblin grinned. "By all the taters in Neverland, think you that I would leave you now!"

Wendy lifted one brow. "What do you mean?"

"I am your right hand until this wollywinkin' war is over." He bent toward her and smirked: "The way through the marsh and snowy wood back to the castle is not for legs such as mine. Instead, I wait 'til the sun is returned again and chases away the winter. And so I have nothing else to do but come with you."

The girl giggled and realized that Bumblyn didn't stay with her because of some old stale tradition among his people, but out of loyalty, possibly a friendly affection. She felt a warmth expanding in her chest, and tears threatening to spill from her eyes yet again. Giving in to the impulse, she pulled the Hobgoblin in a tight embrace and hugged him close, which he didn't seem to mind, considering his beaming face, his tiny fingers digging in the folds of her doublet, and that tail wrapped around her.

The men chuckled. Their captain had been right. How like a girl! But it was, somehow, sweet to watch her with her whimsical friend.

"Chin up, Wendy!" Michael added. "Hook really is sweet on you, and so -- "

"Wait -- what?" the girl squeaked, turning red from the hair roots to toe.

The twins nodded. "Hey, he protected you twice."

"You mean, three times!" his brother corrected.

"Yeah, three times. He even let you sleep in his bed."

"And let you use his library!"

"And his parchments!"

"And his brush and water closet in the Black Castle!"

"And he gave you his shirt!"

"And he comforted you!"

"And he took your place at the thorns!"

"And he rescued you from the harpies!"

"And -- "

"STOP IT!" The rough laughter of the buccaneers echoed throughout the room. Even the Elves smiled while Bumblyn giggled. "That isn't true!" she cried out; her heart beating much too fast.

" 'Scuse me, Missy, but yer dwarves 'r' right!" Jukes snickered. "T'e cap'n is indeed sweet on ye!"

Wendy felt herself trembling, even if she didn't know why. Where was the nearest hole in the wall? Or why didn't the ground open to swallow her whole? She wasn't used to being the centre of such rough jokes and -- Well, the pirates (and the boys) didn't see it as a joke, but as truth, and that made her even more nervous. "You are all insane!" she said weakly, and earned more laughter.

It was Nihal who finally showed some mercy on her, went to her and smooth her still tousled hair. "Peace, my lady. They only wish to tease. You must remember, they are, after all, 'only pirates'."

Wendy nodded, then blushed again, hearing her own words to Hook. The mere thought that this powerful, sometimes savage/sometimes gentle man could be 'sweet' on her frightened her and thrilled her in one. And that this one revelation was a welcome one shocked her even more. Why, this was indecent, indecorous, improper, and completely out of question that she would be pleased to be the centre of a criminal's affections! But, he was, after all, the villain and captain of her fairy-tales; the very same person she had dreamed of meeting, who had fascinated her and whom she had learned to fear, until he had grown into someone she had begun to trust and, as she reluctantly admitted to herself, a man she cared for. And it truly was better to be – not his target for revenge – but the target of his affection!

Revenge.

Oh dear.

Hook certainly would think consider it once again as soon as he learned what had happened to his quarters!

"Ah, come on, lads, let 'er alone!" Skylight finally laughed. "Or our lass'll soon be overcome wit' t'e vapors!"

"Aye! And t'en we've t'e cap'n at our t'roats!" Mullins added, and returned to his table to refill his glass with rum.

"Don't drink so much! We got a long way t' go!" Billy Jukes scolded, and Mullins tapped his finger to his head.

"Ye're out of yer bleedin' mind if ya t'ink t'at we c'n tote them smaller cannons up into t'e mountains an' ter t'is damn volcano!"

"T'e cap'n needs us, and t'e cannons! He will see t'at we aren't t'em dogs he allus calls us!"

"Yes!" Quang Lee nodded. "When we save his hide he'll t'ink ot'erwise about us!"

Nihal exchanged a quick glance with his comrade. "Do I understand you correctly, Mr. Jukes? You intend to move several of the smaller cannons through the woods up to the Mount of No Return to aid your allies?" The tattooed gunman nodded. "This will be dangerous. We could only progress very slowly."

"Jus' wha' I tol' 'im!" Cecco grumbled. "T'e whole plan's insane!"

"But not impossible!" peeped another voice and, growing silent, the buccaneers turned around to look at the pixie, who sat on one of the tables, serving himself bread and meat. Of course the attack of the harpies hadn't been without consequences for him and Aurora, as well, even though they found shelter under the deck.

"Whaddaya mean, ya pipsqueak?" Mullins asked skeptically. (Mullins came from Cornwall and was very familiar with their evil reputation. He didn't like having one of the little troublemakers aboard. He remembered all the nights his father's two horses were left panted and useless in the morning, and everyone in the village knew that pixies had used them to ride. And he got lost one time on his way home from a neighboring farm, and that in spite of the fact that he had followed the same path since he had been a small boy. No, pixies were NOT his favorite little people.)

Kailen looked at Aurora, and blurted out, "Fairy-dust! Easy solution!"

The rose-fairy's eyes widened, and she jingled something that obviously meant, "What?"

The pixie grinned, "Easy to fly with fairy-dust – easy for children, even a man."

"And what about happy thoughts?" Michael asked, still feeling a little guilty that he had revealed the secret of flying his first time on the Jolly Roger, the reason Hook was able to weaken Peter enough to drop him to the deck.

"I say," a twin nodded, "cannons can't have happy thoughts."

Kailen rolled his eyes. "No, no need for them. For you see, they be only land stuff. But fairy-dust makes them to almost have no weight. Kailen remembers the night that from the water this whole ship lifted out, from fairies and fairy dust. Near the cliffs that night was I, when it happened." He looked around. "Carry cannons to the fire mountain covered in fairy-dust? Not hard at all."

Aurora shook her head, clearly distressed, while she chimed again. The pixie sighed. "More of this stuff we will need. A LOT of this stuff. Could we not ask your people to help us, once we were in the woods?"

All eyes were now on the tiny green man and the beautiful little rose-fairy. It was Cecco who finally murmured: "T'at would give us a chance!"

Aurora seemed to consider the proposition, and felt all the eyes on her. Yes, it was a chance worthy of an attempt, and she knew her queen would not deny any assistance the eternal boy needed. Only the thought of traveling over that icebound sea again and then through the haunted wood with its creatures made her shudder.

She felt Kailen's hand taking hers and looked into his eyes. "Never alone would you be," he murmured for her ears only. She was shocked to realize how well he seemed to know her thoughts. "With you we are, and when part you must from us to fly to your people, so will I come with you." Her eyes grew wide, and he smiled sheepishly. "Let me live, might they, even if I dare to court you?"

Aurora blushed and said something that made him giggle.

"Of course I court you. Can you not tell it is so?"

She scoffed something at him, lifted herself into the air and spoke with Nihal, who smiled at her, before he bowed. "Diola alle, Aurora. Your help will never be forgotten."

For a moment, it was quiet while the pirates absorbed the Elf's reply, then they cheered. "A'right! Up t' t'e volcano!" Cecco grinned.

"We gotta be insane! We're pirates, not soldiers!" Mullins smirked, but the prospect of a new adventure and battle didn't daunt him, but rather the opposite. Anything was better than sitting here on a frozen ship and waiting for doom to take them, or children to rescue them!

Jukes eyed the children. "Well, someone hasta stay wivvem!" he thought aloud; feeling somehow responsible for the pretty girl and the little boys.

Wendy rose. "We go with you."

Cecco scratched his head. "I don't t'ink t'at t'e cap'n's goin' to like t'is."

The girl stood, arms akimbo, her face stern. "I will NOT stay alone here on board while the rest of you are involved in the most important battle the island has ever seen! Besides that, the harpies could return, and who would protect my brothers and me then?"

"But… " Skylight began.

"And how would you dare face you captain if one of those beasts killed me while I was defenseless here on board? You've said it yourself – I'm under the Captain Hook's protection."

Nihal stared, trying very hard not to laugh, while Bumblyn, Kailen and Aurora snickered. As if this girl needed anyone's protection. She used every advantage she had. And it was rare that it missed its effect.

Just like now.

"She's right!" Bollard grumbled.

"Yeah! T'e cap'n would keelhaul us if somet'in' happens t' t'e lass."

"We've gotta take 'er wit' us!"

Wendy grinned triumphantly. This time she wouldn't be brushed aside, condemned by her gender to remain on the sidelines, and she would soon be re-united with Peter! She would be able to help him and –

- And she would have to confess to Hook that his cabin had become a battlefield. She sighed resignedly. Well, she would think about that later. She looked at Nihal (who seemed at the crossroads between amusement and irritation,) took Michael by the hand and waved to the Twins to come with her. "Back to the cabin! We'll be ready in a few minutes."

Mullins glanced at her. "Wot about t'e cap'n's cabin?"

Wendy straightened her back and faced the man. "We'll just tell him about it and fix it when we get back."

Jukes smiled, which made the tattooed spider-webs dance. "No fear. We'll tell 'im wot 'appened."

The girl took a deep breath. Well, the men could consider themselves lucky if Hook spared them.

An hour later, the pirates, two Elves, the four children and their three magical companions were trudging through the frozen marshes again. But this time they had no Will-O'-the-Wisps or sheeries to guide them, and a lot to carry: Seven smaller cannons normally moved on land in a wagon pulled by a horse, five barrels of gunpowder and nine boxes of shot. And if it not for the golden dust of the rose-fairy, they would never have managed to get this all over the frozen sea. Aurora had to continually renew the golden dust, for the wind and the ice-crystals lashing them blew it away in minutes.

The rose fairy was growing tired by now and yearned to come to the woods, where she and Kailen would separate from the others to search out the fairy-queen and beg her for help.

Wendy pulled her cape closer around her. She knew that the walk to the Mount of No Return would be even harder than their walk from the Black Castle to Pirate's Cove, but she knew that she had to accompany them. Peter needed her! John and the other boys needed her! Giliath, Thalion and the other Elves needed her! And Hook needed the additional men and the weapons to fight this miserable enemy! She only hoped they wouldn't reach their destination, the opening they had fired on, completely exhausted and that the opening wasn't stopped up, for it was their only way inside of the mountain. The enemy had never thought that they would use it.

Bumblyn sat on her shoulder and sighed deeply. "This will be a looooong trip, e'en for lengthy legs," he murmured, and the girl answered firmly.

"Yes, but our friends need us. And, by the way, who was it who told me 'I won't let you down', and 'I've nothing better to do, lady'?"

The Hobgoblin grumbled something in his odd language, before he answered: "I had a hangover. Oh, and the blow on the head -- Jiklnerwanabenkliquinslavanbioweklanske! Stupid tree!" he screamed, as a tree unloaded its heavy freight of snow down on Wendy and her little friend.

Of course the girl held her tongue from saying anything untoward, after all she was a soon-to-be young lady! but a quiet indiscretion escaped her, nonetheless, as she shook off the icy mass. She shot her brother and the Twins a nasty glare, who doubled over with laughter. The pirates were snickering and even the two Elves had to chuckle. Kailen and Aurora, again dressed in the makeshift ponchos, guffawed together. "Ha, ha! Very funny!" Wendy growled, which only caused the boys to laugh even harder. And because of the incautious merriment, no one heard the crunching of snow beneath leathered feet; this time not even the Elves were wary.

And so they all were startled as a deep voice with a strange accent seemed to come from the air around them: "Stay where you are! Don't move!"

They heard the drawing of many bows, and the pirates gasped and cursed. Damn damn damn! They had been euchred like bloody beginners! The two warriors exchanged a quick glance with each other – that didn't sound like Goblins! – while Bumblyn clung to Wendy, which forced some of the snow down her collar. "Let go!" she hissed, but the Hobgoblin held tight onto her, tail wrapped around her upper arm.

Then a tall form approached from the dark and shadows. Long black hair was held by a band; deep brown eyes observed the troop with distrust and anger, while feathers leather fringes blew in the wind.

Wendy let out a yelp and ran forward, while Bumblyn fell off her shoulder, shouting one of his endless curses. The newcomer lifted a hand to signal not to shoot, while he accepted the girl that fell on his neck with a joyful shout.

"Great Panther!"

TBC…

Dear Readers,

now the fight is in fully on - and I know that I've shocked several of you because of Giliath. To calm you all a little bit: Elves are strong. Well, and for Peter begins a hard way... And in the next chapter he will learn a lot abouttrust and loyalty, betrayal and lies.

Pleeeeaaaaase review - and thank you for the last ones. I really do appreciate them.

Love

Lywhn