She didn't know where they were now; probably outside. She was naked to her waist; her blood-stained, long-sleeved blouse draped over a chair beside the bed. She felt a faint twinge of embarrassment, then told herself firmly that there was no use for it. She was hurt and in order to treat her wound, her upper torso needed to be bare. Besides, she wasn't in the mood to be embarrassed. Her head hurt, her back stung, and she wanted to sleep, but she couldn't because of the pain.
Outside, she heard male voices arguing over something. One of them was Cecco's voice. She could not make out exactly what they were talking about, but she knew it must concern Captain Hook. Then she heard Peter Pan mentioned, and her thoughts turned to the boy lying still on the bed across from hers. She saw that his wounds had been bandaged, but that his chest rose softly, indicating that he was still alive. But all did not appear to be well.
He moaned lightly, and whimpered in fear at his dreams. Maegie could almost swear she saw his limbs shaking. "Does he have a fever?" she asked, raising her head a little.
She could not see the Chief's expression, but she felt his hands stop in the middle of coating her wound with the salve. "It is not a fever," he said simply, and continued. "I'm afraid it's something much worse."
"He's not going to die, is he?"
"No. I don't think he will. But I sense a great evil taking over him. I fear more for his soul than his body."
"Was it . . . that dark blood?"
The Chief gasped and Maegie heard a clatter as the bowl of salve fell from his fingertips. She almost sat up in alarm, but upon remembering her unclothed condition, stayed where she was. "What is it?" she asked, alarmed.
"Did you say 'dark blood'?"
"Aye . . . Captain Hook was bleeding from a wound -- his blood was as black as pitch. While he and Peter were fighting, he coated his hook in his discolored blood and managed to stab Peter . . ." Maegie trailed off when she saw Chief Panther's face.
"This is most serious. Do you know if -- no, you need rest. I will ask the ones that brought you." Chief Panther draped a blanket over Maegie's body and she closed her eyes, grateful for its warmth.
"I say, this is ridiculous! Why we helping Peter Pan? We should go in there and slit his gullet! Then when we get Hook back to normal, we can leave this place!" Starkey muttered.
"Aye, I'm half-agreein' with you. I see no need for keeping that brat alive. But we's in Indian territory now and the Indians aren't gonna take too kindly if we kill their friend, now are they?" Mullins answered calmly. "I think one of the only reasons they haven't scalped us by now is 'cause we brought Peter to them unharmed." Starkey bowed his head, accepting this logic.
Sitting down with his back leaning against the entrance to the Chief's lodge, Slightly listened in, then turned to Jukes to see if his friend was also eavesdropping. Billy was merely staring at the ground. If he heard the pirates talking, he gave no indication.
"So what now, then?" Mason asked.
"Huh?" Robert Mullins asked, looking up from examining his sword.
"What now?
"Th' hell if I know. Why you askin' me for?"
It was now Alf Mason's turn to be surprised. "The way you were tellin us ta help you . . . shiver me, I thought ye had some plan formed ta get Hook back."
Robert and Cecco exchanged glances.
"The only way ta deal with a witch is ta kill her," Mullins grumbled, at length. "That's our plan. It ain't sure to work, but what else is there to do?"
"Will killin' this witch bring back th' Cap'n?" Smee wanted to know.
"Dunno. I've heard of spells bein' lifted when the witch died. In fairytales," Mullins said, thoughtfully.
"Well, this is Neverland. Fairytales is all it's made of," Starkey replied.
"This ain't no fairytale, Starkey. That witch means business. She's straight from hell, she is. There's no way any kid coulda dreamed her up."
"Any plans on how to kill her?"
"A steel blade through her belly would do it nicely. Not to say it'll be easy. This isn't a defenseless old hag we's talkin about. She's got some serious powers goin' for her if she can control Hook."
Slightly nudged Jukes, who hadn't looked up once during the pirates' conversation. "You allright?" he whispered.
Billy did not make eye contact with him. "I'm worried about Maegie. She never would've been wounded if we'd been quicker."
Slightly felt an equal pang of guilt. "You're right," he whispered back. "We could have been slightly more careful."
"We can't make any more mistakes like this. She could have been killed. All of us could have."
Tears were dancing in Billy's eyes. Slightly's expression turned to tender concern and he was reaching out to comfort Jukes when shouts overhead made them both look up sharply.
The Lost Boys floated down to stand before them, their weapons drawn as they eyed the original crew of the Jolly Roger warily.
A pink flash of light zoomed toward Billy and Slightly. "Where is he?" cried Tinkerbell. She flapped her wings frantically. "Where is Peter?! If he's died---"
Something broke within the fairy and her wings froze, causing her to drift down as she wept, heartsick. Billy moved forward to catch her before she hit the ground. Nestled in his hands, Tinkerbell continued to cry.
"He's still alive," Jukes said, gently, feeling sorry for her and touched by her devotion to him. "Just wounded."
He yelped then as he received a very hard pixie-bite on his finger. Tinkerbell flitted away from him, surrounded by a red light of anger.
"Just wounded? I oughta just wound you!" she yelled, grief strangling her voice.
Jukes flinched. "Tinkerbell, calm down--"
"Don't you dare tell me to calm down!" Tink yelled back.
"Billy has a point, Tink. I never saw you so angry before . . ." Slightly muttered. Caught up in her anger, Tinkerbell turned on him.
"You're just as much at fault! Attacking a pirate ship on your own?! You should have known you could never do it! I'm wondering if Peter wasn't right in banishing you."
The words hit Slightly like a blow to the stomach and he paled. "Banished?"
"Yes. Peter banished you forever when he heard of what you did. You have your 'friend' Jukes to thank for it. I hope you like the pirates now, because that's who you belong with, traitor!"
Shocked, the other Lost Boys stood still as they listened to Tinkerbell's outburst. Slightly turned to them, bewildered. "Is it true?"
"I . . . I'm afraid so, Slightly," Wendy said, her eyes downcast.
"We tried to talk Peter out of it . . ." Tootles said, softly. "But he wouldn't listen."
His eyes brimming over with tears, Slightly looked down at the ground. No, he told himself firmly. I will not cry . . . An uncooperative tear slid out of his eye and dropped to the ground. Slightly felt the stares of the Lost Boys, Indians, and pirates all staring at him. It was more than he could bear. Without another word, he took off running towards the open arms of the forest.
"Slightly!" Bill cried out in alarm, starting after his best friend Nibs flew after him and took hold of his elbow.
"Leave him, Jukes. I know him and he won't be in the mood to talk to you or anybody," said Nibs. Billy twisted his arm out of the boy's grip.
"If you know him, then why did you just stand by while Tinkerbell called him a traitor? You know that's not true!" Jukes yelled, glaring at the other Lost Boys.
"If he hadn't gone off alone, none of this would have happened!" Nibs replied.
"Well, if going after a friend who's in danger when nobody else seemed interested enough makes someone a traitor, then yes, Slightly is one. And I'd rather have a traitor for my friend than a boy who doesn't care if I live or die!" Billy shot back, his voice trembling with rage. "Slightly never would have had to come to my aid if Peter hadn't been so caught up in his stupid games."
"You ungrateful low-life! Peter's in there dying because of you!" Tinkerbell yelled.
"You're right, Tinkerbell, it is my fault!" Jukes yelled back. "But since you know so much, why don't you take a hint and leave Slightly alone?! Why are you punishing him?"
Nibs and the other boys stared at him silently. Billy made a sound of disgust deep in his throat.
"I'm goin' after him," he said coldly, and took off running.
"Jukes!" yelled Mullins, snapping out of whatever shock had frozen him in place. "Get back here!" he hollered after the boy.
But Billy either did not hear or did not listen. Mullins cursed and strode after him but the Chief put a hand on his shoulder. "They will not come to harm. I sense no danger."
"Aye, of course there's not gonna be any danger! Cause I intend ta go after the scugs an' drag both of 'em back by the ears! Now let me go!"
"Mullins, Jukes and Slightly know better than to go off too far with Hook out there," Cecco said.
"They know better than goin' off at all!" Mullins growled. He turned to glare at Tinkerbell. "And as for you, ya winged viper, that was harsh what ye said to the lad!"
Tink just ignored him and flew past Chief Panther into the tent to see how Peter fared.
"Is he allright? Can we see him?" The other Lost Boys chorused, crowding around the tall shaman.
Panther's face tightened. He did not want the Lost Boys to enter his lodge for various reasons, one being a certain young girl who would be embarrassed at her current state of undress. "Wendy may enter. But not you boys."
"Why not?!" the boys cried, looks of childish outrage clear on their faces.
"Because she is your mother," the Chief answered, for lack of any better explanation. "Peter needs rest. He cannot be disturbed or talked to."
"But--" started Nibs.
"I will hear no more on the matter. Come inside, Wendy." Wendy walked inside and the Chief was about to follow her when a hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"Chief," Cecco started anxiously. "How's Maegie?"
"Her wound is not serious. I've already treated her and she'll be able to walk and move around in a day or so."
"Might I see the lass?"
"No. Not yet. Please, all of you, be patient for a while longer."
"Slightly?" Jukes called, looking about. He heard the wind stirring up through the leaves of the otherwise quiet forest. He shivered in fear. Hook could be anywhere . . . Billy knew had to be careful.
Jukes bent down and looked for more signs of Slightly's passage. If the Lost Boy had flown, it would be too hard to track him down. But so far, it was alarmingly easy; Jukes knew that if he could follow the trail, Hook could too. He continued along, hoping fervently that he'd get to Slightly before Hook did.
Jukes came to a crossing where the path was lined with tall trees and he looked about, puzzled. The tracks had faded and he could no longer follow them. He wondered if Slightly had taken to flight, when suddenly a small branch and an acorn pelted him on the shoulder from the treetops above.
"Go away, Jukes!" Slightly's voice came from overhead.
"Slightly!" Billy flew up toward his friend's voice.
"Why are you mad at me?"
"I'm not. Yet. But I will be if you don't go!"
Slightly sat in the wide mossy cradle formed by the thick tree branches which twined up in a circle around him, forming a protective shield of leaf and green wood. Jukes slipped into the opening and sat down besides his friend.
The Lost Boy's face was buried in his hands and he was making soft, sad sounds. "Go away! Please . . . just leave me alone . . ." the boy sobbed, brokenly.
Billy didn't know what to say. Instead he braced his shoulder against Slightly's, offering his silent companionship.
When Slightly's throat had at last become dry from his weeping, he leaned his head wearily on the young pirate's shoulder for support, drained by his emotions. Jukes put an arm around his friend and held him close.
"Thank you," the boy croaked. Then, a little embarrassed, he added, "I feel slightly foolish for carrying on so."
"Don't feel like that. We're friends aren't we? Besides, you know what Tink said isn't true."
"What part?" Slightly asked, a faint tone of hope in his voice. Jukes winced.
"I meant the part about being a traitor."
Slightly shivered and leaned away from Billy. "I . . . I am really banished then . . . forever . . ."
"I'm sorry. It's all my fault," Billy said quietly.
"It isn't your fault in the slightest, Jukes! Don't let anyone tell you that!" Slightly almost snapped.
"Why should you have to suffer? You were only trying to help me!" Jukes eyes were flashing with anger as he spoke. "It isn't fair!"
"Since when is anything?" Slighty countered back. He ran a hand through his rakish blond hair and decided to change the topic before it could turn into an argument. "I care more about you."
Jukes looked at him, astonished. "What?"
"When I was with you and Maegie in that cave, I felt like I was home. I never thought once of Peter and the others. It was like I didn't even know them. It's only when I saw them again at the Indian camp just a few hours ago that I remembered how much they were a part of my life. But you're a part of my life too, Billy. It's slightly strange . . . but no matter what happens, I feel safe - more safe than I've ever felt - as long as I have you and Maegie."
Slightly did not look at Jukes since he was more concerned with blinking back the new tears that had formed in his eyes. For a while there was a silence between them. then Slightly felt an arm wrap around his shoulders. "That's what a family is, Slightly. I'm glad you're part of mine too."
Jukes was smiling gently at him when Slightly finally faced him and after a moment, he grinned back. The boys embraced, then a sudden wind blowing down on them through the leaves told them that it was time to head back.
Slightly stood up, his legs trembling from nervousness at what he would face at the Indian camp and wishing he knew whether his eyes were red. But he would rather be embarrassed than dead by Hook's claw. Talking with Billy had released a great pressure weighing down on his heart; the same pressure which had kept him from being able to fly as he ran through the woods, blinded by his tears.
Jukes rose into the air and Slightly joined him. Together they headed back toward the Indian camp, riding on the unsteady breeze.
The calico growled weakly as she tried once more to chew at the snare tightened around her foot. Were her body not weakened so much from hunger, she would have freed herself hours ago. But as it was, her body was as light as a feather. It had been three days or more, and she had not a scrap of food besides the grass to fill her belly since she had fled Arizael's home.
The smell of food had attracted her senses, and without any caution, she had leapt head-first into the Indian trap to eat the bait laid for her. And now she was paying the price; probably as someone else's meal. Arizael would laugh if she could see me now, the cat thought with a low growl. Crazy old witch.
Her tufted ears flicked as she heard an approaching sound. She hoped it was not a coyote or worse, the Crocodile, and began to struggle with the snare again.
"Hard-To-Hit!" cried an angry voice. It belonged to a female human; a young one. The calico looked up and saw a figure rushing toward her. Her fur bunched up and her tail grew twice its normal size. She hissed as menacingly as she could, letting the approaching stranger know that she would not die easily if they had come to kill her.
"I told you not to leave meat in the snares!"
"Why not?" Hard-To-Hit asked, jogging to catch up with his sister. "Did I catch the bear?" he asked excitedly. "Or a wolf? What? Is it big? Oh . . ."
The human boy's face fell in disappointment when he caught sight of the mangy calico. The cat glared back. I'm not exactly thrilled to be here either, kid.
She growled warningly as Tiger Lily approached her and found, much to her chagrin, that she was too weak to struggle much as the Indian girl placed the creature into her herb basket among the wild moss, roots, and fiddleheads she had previously collected.
"We're trying to catch rabbits with these snares, Hard-To-Hit, not carnivores! Honestly!" Tiger Lily scolded him. She handed him a fiddlehead from her basket. "Rabbits like these. Set the snare again and this time, maybe we'll catch some supper."
Hard-To-Hit grumbled and set about working. In a few minutes, he had finished and he and his sister began to walk.
The calico pondered jumping from the basket, but the idea was squashed when she realized she would not be able to run very far. And besides, these humans weren't all that bad. As aloof and feral as she was - having lived around a witch for several years and learning how to dodge hexes and kicks for as long as she could remember - she was not as afraid of humans as most animals were. The cat could remember nothing of her past, if she had one. Nothing was hers; not even name. Only a strange sense of comfort when she smelled fire and human scent gave her the suspicion that she had once, perhaps centuries ago, been more than a calico.
She laid back against the herbs, fluffed up her fur, and wrapped her tail around her body to keep the wind at bay. She knew she was going to a man's village and that the children were not going to eat or hurt her. The way Tiger Lily was still scolding Hard-To-Hit for his carelessness did more than assure her of that.
"What is it with you girls and cats? I don't see you ever making a big fuss when you have to skin a bunny, but when it comes to a cat getting hurt, you go nuts!" Hard-To-Hit complained, pestered by his sister's scolding.
"The cat didn't have to get caught in the first place! You just wanted to catch something big so you could boast about it! As if a wolf or bear would actually stay in a puny snare like that! Really, Hard-To-Hit!"
The Indian boy crossed his arms over his chest and sulked the rest of the way to the village. The calico twitched an ear and grumbled a bit as the basket jostled against Tiger Lily's side, aggravating her wounded foot. She wrapped a front paw around her injury and glared reproachfully up at the girl.
Wherever they were going, she hoped they got there soon. The smell of roasted pheasant and partridge was making her mouth water.
Maegie sat as straight and still as she could while Great-Big-Little-Panther wrapped a soft bandage of linen about her chest. She winced as he tied it off but found she was still able to breathe comfortably.
"Does it feel too tight?"
"No, not at all. Thank you."
"The wound should heal as long as you do nothing to re-open it. Be careful."
"I will," Maegie promised. Wendy had been kind enough to offer to mend her blouse and she was just putting the last stitches in. Maegie watched as the dark-haired girl looked up from her sewing to glance anxiously at Peter. The Chief walked outside, leaving the girls to themselves. Tinkerbell was curled up against Peter's chest, refusing to budge so she could hear each heartbeat.
Maegie put a gentle hand on Wendy's shoulder. "I'm sorry. He was wounded for our sake. He is a very brave boy and I thank him."
"That's very nice of you to say, Maegie. But Peter would have gotten into a fight with Hook sooner than later. I really wish he would listen to me and be careful for once. I'm only glad he isn't . . ." Wendy trailed off and her hand stopped. Losing her composure, the girl dropped her sewing and put her face in her hands. "He could have died . . ."
Instead of the mother of the Lost Boys, Maegie saw before her a scared little girl who needed a shoulder to cry on.
Maegie put an arm around Wendy and tried to comfort her. "Don't worry. I'm sure Chief Panther will heal him."
"What if he can't?" sobbed Wendy. "He doesn't know what's wrong with Peter . . . none of us do. If Tinkerbell does, she's not speaking. It's like she's dead . . . she won't even look at me when I try to talk to her!"
"Wendy," Maegie said, holding the girl tighter. "Listen. I know it's frightening, but right now the only thing you can do is make sure your Lost Boys don't try to fight Hook. Arizael's the real monster here and she's using her power to control Hook. If she's gotten to Peter too, then we're going to have to protect him. As best as we can . . ."
"Where are they? It's been too long, I tell ya! Somethin's happened! I'm goin'!" Mullins declared, pacing back and forth in front of the Chief's lodge. "Cecco, Mason, come on. We gotta find them."
"I say, look up there!" Starkey said, pointing to the sky. Mullins looked up and smiled in relief as Jukes and Slightly drifted down in front of them. He scanned them over, making sure they were allright, then really lit into them.
"What in tarnation are you brats tryin' ta do to me? Kill me with worry?" He yelled at them. Although the brunt of his fury was aimed at Billy, Slightly could not help flinching along with his friend.
"But Mullins, I couldn't just let Slightly---"
There was a blur of motion and a sharp crack. Jukes stood with his head turned to his right, a brilliant red mark on his cheek. Slowly, he put a hand to his stinging face and rubbed where Mullins had slapped him. For a long moment, there was silence. Jukes did not speak or look the older pirate in the eye, but continued to stare ahead at nothing. His eyes were gleaming with tears, whether from shock, anger, shame, or all three, Mullins did not know.
A small knot of worry formed in Robert's stomach. Had he gone to far? Did he really have the right to strike the boy? Yet he had done it because he cared for Jukes. If the boy wasn't goin to listen to reason, then by all that was holy, he'd listen to the back of Robert's hand.
Mullins opened his mouth, not sure whether he was going to scold or apologize. Nothing came out. It was Billy who broke the silence.
"Robert, I'm sorry. I had no right in worrying you so," he said quietly, his eyes now cast to the ground. His hand was still pressed against his cheek, and the red mark had yet to fade. Mullins cursed himself inwardly. How hard had he hit the boy?
Starkey, Mason, and Smee gawked at their youngest shipmate's tolerance. "I say," Starkey whispered to them, "If any of us had tried that, Jukes would have returned it with plenty of interest."
"Aye," Mason muttered to Starkey, "But Mullins does it and the lad's as contrite as a whipped school boy!"
Mullins reached out, put a hand under Juke's chin, and made the boy look him in the eye. "Listen, I din't mean ta hit you, Billy, but I don't want ye gettin' hurt. When ye go off alone, for any reason, you give Hook another chance ta sink his hook into yer gut!" Mullins scolded, gruffly.
"It was slightly my fault," Slightly said, and Mullins looked at him sharply. "If I hadn't flown off like that . . . " Nervously, Slightly broke off and stepped back a few feet. "Now don't hit me," he said, raising his hands.
The tension was broken as Mullins and Jukes looked at each other for a moment then started laughing.
"I ain't gonna hit ya, lad," Mullins promised, smirking a little.
The cloth draped over the entrance to Chief Panther's lodge moved and the man stepped out. Wendy walked out beside him, her eyes red as if she had been crying. Bill and Slightly looked at one another in concern. Before they could ask anything, the Chief beckoned to the two boys. "Maegie asked me about you two. I believe it would do her good to talk to you."
The boys walked forward, but paused when they stood before Wendy. "How is he?" Slightly asked, not looking her in the face. Wendy tenderly touched his cheek.
"I don't know, Slightly." Her voice was full of sadness and Slightly hated himself for being part of her grief. He knew she didn't want him to be banished and that she understood why he had gone to help Jukes against Peter's orders. Poor Wendy was going through enough with Peter's injury. Now she had to leave him to look after her boys and her mother's heart was torn between staying with Peter, comforting Slightly, and making sure the rest of her charges were not hurt by Hook.
"Slightly? Jukes? I will always love you both. You're still my boys, no matter what anyone else says. Even Peter." Wendy hugged them both tenderly, then drifted off the ground and began to fly toward the Underground House where the other Lost Boys were already waiting for her.
Billy and Slightly watched her go and faintly wondered if they would ever see her again.
Maegie looked up and smiled when she saw Billy and Slightly entering the lodge. They grinned back, but a troubled look came over their faces when they saw Peter's state. Billy knelt next to the suffering boy and reached out a hand to touch Peter's sweat-soaked forehead and received a sharp shock to his fingertips for his troubles.
"Ouch!" Jukes cried, shaking the pain out of his hand.
"Don't touch him, pirate boy . . ." Tinkerbell muttered, and curled into a tighter ball against Peter's body.
"She's been like that since she came in here. She won't let anyone touch him. Not even Chief Panther."
Jukes looked at Maegie who sat up on the bed amidst furs and blankets, strips of white cloth wrapped around her chest. She picked up the blouse Wendy had mended for her and slipped it on over the bandages, covering her bare arms and shoulders. Billy hoped he wasn't blushing and that Maegie couldn't hear the pounding in his chest. "What's the big deal?" he chided himself mentally. "It's just skin."
He and Slightly sat beside her on the bed. "How are you feeling?" Jukes asked, feeling lowly. He still felt that it was because of him that she had been wounded. Even if Maegie had forgiven him for it, he wouldn't.
Maegie wondered why neither Billy nor Slightly were making eye contact with her. "Fine. It doesn't hurt badly."
"That's good," Slightly murmured, keeping his eyes to the ground.
"What's wrong with you two? You look as if you've just heard you're about to be hung on the gallows." Immediately after she said that, she bit her lip. They practically were in danger of hanging, -- or worse -- with Captain Hook still out there.
"We're sorry," Billy and Slightly started to say at almost the same time.
"For what?" Maegie asked, though she was afraid she knew why they were aplogizing.
"You were hurt because of us."
"That's ridiculous."
"Maegie, it's true. If we hadn't been playing around, you would be okay."
"I am okay."
"Because you were lucky."
"No, Jukes, Slightly. Because I have friends like you."
Both boys looked as if they were about to say something but Maegie kept talking. "Neither of you had any way of knowing Hook was coming right towards you. You can't blame yourself. And if you do, what good is it for? When mistakes are made, you learn from them. You don't hate yourself for them."
"In that case . . . we promise to be more careful from now on."
"Now, I prefer that over a thousand apologies," Maegie said, smiling.
The calico sniffed the air and meowed in complaint when she was carried past the cooking pheasants and toward a tall man who stood in front of an Indian lodge. Four other males stood by, each of different skin-color than the powerful man standing over her and the two Indian children.
Tiger Lily must have nudged Hard-To-Hit, because the calico heard him grunt in pain.
"I set the snare wrong and we caught a cat. So now its leg is wounded."
"I see." The Chief appeared to know exactly how Hard-To-Hit had set the snares wrong, because he was frowning disapprovingly at the boy.
The calico shifted her gaze away, bored, as the Chief began to mildly lecture the fidgeting Indian boy. She sniffed the air to savor the delicious scent of the cooking poultry, when suddenly something caught her nose and her heart seemed to skip a beat.
It was something familiar . . . something she had never sensed before as a cat, yet it made her soul ache deeply, although she knew not why. Before she could stop herself, she felt her body uncurling and jumping down from the basket. She gave a short cry as pain lanced up her foot, but her discomfort was ignored as she headed toward the scent, tracking it down to its source. She followed it past the bemused Chief who had paused scolding Hard-To-Hit and into the lodge's opening beyond him.
The scent became stronger; and she still could not identify it with her feline senses. Her soul, however, was crying out a name that was as foreign to her ears as it was dear to her heart.
She stopped suddenly and when she looked up into the face of a young gypsy boy with raven hair framing his face and equally astonished brown eyes staring down at her, she knew she had somehow found a link to memories long forgotten . . . and something far more precious than that.
Words began to tumble through her head and although she did not understand why, her heart was filled with joy. He's alive . . . Dear sweet Gods, he's alive . . . but how? . . . they just left him on that god forsaken island to die . . . but he's alive . . . The calico was trembling all over and she wanted to shout out her love for this boy and tell him who she was and who he was and that she had died inside when they had taken him away from her . . . but all that came out was a pitiful mewl. And it was then she remembered what she was. She staggered forward, and her leg throbbed with renewed pain.
The boy turned to his blonde friend who shrugged, wordlessly. Jukes bent down to pick the small calico up and as she curled in his arms, the pain suddenly didn't matter at all. Because now she was home.
