***
7
***
"I don't see why you have to bring those damned things with us, it's not like it's even important anymore." Picadilly whined in a very annoying tone, gesturing with a far flung arm at the shattered, mutilated spectacles. Captain Popper tucked them closer to his belly and sniffed.
"And I don't see why YOU'RE here at all!" He snapped over his wing at the fairy. "I don't need YOU around just to find a pair of humans. Why on Earth did General Tory send you with me?"
"This isn't a hay ride for me either, Popper!" Picadilly snapped back. "I'm supposed to be at work! Master Spoonthistle said if I was late one more day he was going to start docking my pay!"
"Good for him! I can't stand a lad who's derelict in duty!"
Picadilly gave an irritated shout and circled the captain in the air furiously, upsetting the balance of the wind in his wings and making him fall a good ten feet before righting himself. The captain flapped his way back up to his level and snapped his beak at the smug fairy in retaliation, catching only a fragment of his shirt and ripping a hole in the purple fabric. The fairy yelped and kicked his beak. Captain Popper spit out the fibers.
"What in the blazes of hell was General Tory thinking when he sent you along with me!" He growled. When he became angry his accent slipped, and Picadilly snickered at him. "What's so funny?!" Picadilly squealed and flipped in the air, stopped suddenly, and pointed towards the ground.
"Human!"
There was indeed a human. Most of Neverland was hidden by forest, making this surveying flight more wishful thinking than anything, but glimpsed stumbling through the gap caused by a skeletonized pine tree was something that looked at least mostly human. They circled back to get another look. This one was bigger than any of the Lost Boys, and was the wrong color to be a Picaninny. He wore a blue shirt and sash and had his hair pulled back sloppily in a ribbon.
"That's gotta be a pirate." Picadilly said. "Either that or one of the Lost Boys got reeeeaally big."
"And hairy." Popper added, noting at least two days worth of beard stubble. He began to circle down.
"Hey! What are you doing!?" Picadilly yelped. "We're looking for two BOYS!"
"I'M looking for a name to go with these glasses!" The captain shouted back. Picadilly let a frustrated huff and followed him down.
***
Robert Mullins had been hit in the head one too many times these past two days. He could feel the blood pounding against the back of his skull where, most recently, Cookson had nailed him with the flat edge of a cleaver after he'd forced him to open the cell door. He had no idea where Cookson had been keeping that cleaver, but he was grateful it was only the dull edge he'd caught him with instead of the bladed one. It still hurt like a heathen's hell, though. Part of him hoped Cookson would regain consciousness before the long boat he'd set him adrift in made it too far out to sea. He wanted him to face up to Hook after letting a prisoner escape from the Jolly Roger.
God damn it, his head hurt.
Things had gone badly after Billy's escape. Hook had been furious. Mullins was fairly certain that the bruise on the right side of his head was something to behold, since it had knocked him cold for a good third of the day. He wasn't able to account for everything but he had his suspicions that the captain had gotten him more than once before he hit the deck (or maybe even after). He'd woken up in the brig with Cookson on guard. The rest of the crew (which he realized composed itself of the pathetic number of two) was cowering in fear on Hook's heels as they hunted down Billy Jukes.
Mullins hadn't been able to get out of the brig until a few hours before dawn. Cookson wasn't as dumb as he looked, which he supposed he's always known, but often found difficult to remember with the way the man acted. It had been luck more than anything that he'd tripped when he had, letting Mullins grab him through the bars and press the stolen dagger to his throat. Despite Cookson's brain-scrambling defense he'd managed to knock him out with the hilt of the dagger and haul him up to the second longboat.
Hook would kill the boy if he could find him. Mullins knew this without a shadow of doubt. With that much fury in the captain's brain it was only a matter of the method of death, though Mullins doubted he would be adverse to torture. The other pirates already had a day's start on him, and Mullins put his faith in Billy's ability to hide himself well enough that Hook wouldn't ever find him. Billy had done it more than once on the Jolly Roger. At first Mullins had almost wanted to ask how a body could hide for so many days on a sealed ship, but with what little he understood of Billy's life he knew the talent had probably been acquired through practice and necessity. He only hoped the boy would have enough sense to show himself if Mullins found him.
"Ahoy there!" Called a voice from above. His hand went immediately to the hilt of Cookson's dagger, though he wished he'd had the presence of mind to take his cutlass from the ship. Something grey and quick sliced through the air near his head and he swung out at it, catching the bird in the tail feathers and sending it into an undignified cartwheel into the dirt. The merlin lay for a moment with his beak in the leaves and his tail in the air.
"What in the blazes…" Mullins crept closer to investigate as the bird rolled onto its feet and brushed the dirt from it's feathers.
"Well I can't say I like that greeting much." It said with an exaggerated british accent.
"I did!" called a second voice, and a spot of giggling blue fairy glow drifted lazily down into the trees. "Can you do it again?"
"Oh, shut up!" The bird craned its neck to look up at Mullins, who was a great deal taller than him, and puffed. "A bit of business then, would you mind, sir? I'm Captain Popper of the Sun Catcher Squadron, wondering if by any chance you might be a pirate?"
"What's it to ya?" Mullins snapped, eyes narrow.
"Well we understand there was an incident aboard the pirate ship yesterday, one of the pirates was killed, we were wondering if you might be a good chap and tell us the name of him for the Records Committee. Where's those bloody glasses?" The last part was directed at the fairy, who dashed into the underbrush and returned dragging something far too much for his weight. It was the mangled, dirty rims of Smee's spectacles.
"Do these look familiar to you? Can you tell us who they belonged to?"
Mullins, who was not in the mood to cooperate, snatched the bird around the neck and brought it's panicked, kicking self up to his face. The fairy clapped.
"I don't have time for this claptrap. I have to find Billy before the captain does, and I won't be dawdled by some moth eaten wind sack and his half witted fairy!"
"Hey! I'm not half witted!" The fairy protested. The bird was, of course, unable to speak (or for that matter breathe).
Mullins dropped the merlin and it landed in a clumsy spread of wings and legs on the ground. Captain Popper immediately jumped to his feet and began to hop. "Oh, you think you can just molest the captain of the Sun Catcher Squad and get away with it? I'll take out your eyes! I'll bite off your nose!"
The pirate's dagger was out to quickly for the bird to realize it, and a moment later it plunged into the ground a hair's breadth from Popper's breast. He squeaked and stared at the silver edge.
"Er, right, no trouble then, hm?" He babbled and scurried away to hide behind Picadilly. Mullins wretched the dagger out of the dirt and cleaned it on his trouser leg before returning it to his sash. The fairy flitted up to Mullins' face with a wide, bucktoothed grin.
"I think we've got ourselves a keeper, Captain Popper! Anyone who tries to kill you must have pretty good sense, don't they?" Below, the merlin hissed. "Maybe you can help us anyway. You see, what we're REALLY supposed to be doing out here is looking for the boy who killed the pirate. General Tory, on Small Monday Island, thinks he probably WAS a pirate. Negroid boy, with long hair, shorter that you?"
Mullins glared at the fairy. "What would you be wantin' with him?"
Captain Popper spoke up, trying to look dignified while sitting on the dirt.
"Suffice to say that if we don't find him, something very bad is going to come of him. As we speak, General Tory of the Night Watch is giving a briefing to His Highness King Oberon and his council. By the time King Oberon makes a decision regarding the boy we're supposed to have found him and reported back."
"That doesn't answer the question." Mullins growled.
"Well, er…" Popper glanced up at Picadilly for help. The fairy sniffed and ignored the plea. "What happens to him will all depend on Oberon's mood. The way the General explained it to me it sounds like his options are either to arrest the boy's growth before he gets any further or, well, issue a death warrant. It will probably be the latter of the two."
"What?!" Mullins grabbed for the bird again but Captain Popper sidestepped him and took off, disappearing into the trees for a moment before circling back. "What happened on that ship was the business of no one but the boy and us pirates! He's already got one pack out to kill him, why don't you just mind your own business!" He shouted. Wheeling tightly over Mullins head, the bird made a good target for a poorly aimed slash, and it faltered in the air and peeled off, the tip of a few primaries missing.
"Pirate with a knife!" Picadilly eeped pointlessly and darted off in the same direction as Captain Popper, shouting back. "You're a big meanie, Mr. Pirate!"
Mullins scowled after them and hesitantly replaced the dagger. The lunge had made the back of his head throb more and he rubbed it absently, dropping his chin. Still laying in the leaves was a twisted mess of silver wire, glinting gently in the filtered light, and he narrowed his eyes at the spectacle frame. Billy had two parties after his blood now. With that demon in him he had to be confused enough as it is, he didn't need the entire island rising against him. Mullins had to find him before the others did. The boy needed his help now more than he ever did, and at least, if worse came to worst, he could stand beside him against the captain.
Like he should have done that morning.
Face turning up in disgust, he ground the spectacles into the dirt with his boot and set off again.
***
"They're looking for you, you know."
Billy's head snapped up at the soft, cooing voice and he scanned the trees for its source, unconsciously turning his back to Slightly's as the other boy did the same. Above and around them was nothing but green and the rough ribs of trees, but the speaker kept itself hidden.
"Neverland is afraid of you. The fairies are, too. Everyone is looking for you."
Their eyes finally settled on the only living creature, nestled in the crook of a tree; a small, pale diamond dove, staring back at them intently.
"Who's looking for me?" Billy demanded of it. "The pirates?"
"Oh, yes." The bird answered softly. "The rumors go very quick in the daytime. They say the pirates are looking for you from over there." It pointed vaguely ahead of them with a wing tip. "Another pirate is over there, but he isn't with the others." It pointed slightly to their right. "The fairies have a merlin and a fairy looking for you from over there." The change of direction was minute. "And The Lost Boys are looking for someone, too, but it isn't you this time. It's him."
Slightly blinked to find the bird pointing at him. It shuffled itself and pulled back into a soft puff of feathers. "They're on the other side of the Indian village right now. I wonder what would happen if they all met." It said. "Why is everyone looking for you? Did you do something so very bad?"
The boys looked at each other and Billy grabbed Slightly's hand, pulling him in the one direction the dove hadn't pointed. "Come on, we have to move."
The dove watched as the boys disappeared into the woods, then sighed and flitted from the branch. They hadn't looked like terribly awful boys. It was too bad what was going to happen to them. Circling the area to memorize its location, the dove flew towards the fairies' scout to report what it had found.
7
***
"I don't see why you have to bring those damned things with us, it's not like it's even important anymore." Picadilly whined in a very annoying tone, gesturing with a far flung arm at the shattered, mutilated spectacles. Captain Popper tucked them closer to his belly and sniffed.
"And I don't see why YOU'RE here at all!" He snapped over his wing at the fairy. "I don't need YOU around just to find a pair of humans. Why on Earth did General Tory send you with me?"
"This isn't a hay ride for me either, Popper!" Picadilly snapped back. "I'm supposed to be at work! Master Spoonthistle said if I was late one more day he was going to start docking my pay!"
"Good for him! I can't stand a lad who's derelict in duty!"
Picadilly gave an irritated shout and circled the captain in the air furiously, upsetting the balance of the wind in his wings and making him fall a good ten feet before righting himself. The captain flapped his way back up to his level and snapped his beak at the smug fairy in retaliation, catching only a fragment of his shirt and ripping a hole in the purple fabric. The fairy yelped and kicked his beak. Captain Popper spit out the fibers.
"What in the blazes of hell was General Tory thinking when he sent you along with me!" He growled. When he became angry his accent slipped, and Picadilly snickered at him. "What's so funny?!" Picadilly squealed and flipped in the air, stopped suddenly, and pointed towards the ground.
"Human!"
There was indeed a human. Most of Neverland was hidden by forest, making this surveying flight more wishful thinking than anything, but glimpsed stumbling through the gap caused by a skeletonized pine tree was something that looked at least mostly human. They circled back to get another look. This one was bigger than any of the Lost Boys, and was the wrong color to be a Picaninny. He wore a blue shirt and sash and had his hair pulled back sloppily in a ribbon.
"That's gotta be a pirate." Picadilly said. "Either that or one of the Lost Boys got reeeeaally big."
"And hairy." Popper added, noting at least two days worth of beard stubble. He began to circle down.
"Hey! What are you doing!?" Picadilly yelped. "We're looking for two BOYS!"
"I'M looking for a name to go with these glasses!" The captain shouted back. Picadilly let a frustrated huff and followed him down.
***
Robert Mullins had been hit in the head one too many times these past two days. He could feel the blood pounding against the back of his skull where, most recently, Cookson had nailed him with the flat edge of a cleaver after he'd forced him to open the cell door. He had no idea where Cookson had been keeping that cleaver, but he was grateful it was only the dull edge he'd caught him with instead of the bladed one. It still hurt like a heathen's hell, though. Part of him hoped Cookson would regain consciousness before the long boat he'd set him adrift in made it too far out to sea. He wanted him to face up to Hook after letting a prisoner escape from the Jolly Roger.
God damn it, his head hurt.
Things had gone badly after Billy's escape. Hook had been furious. Mullins was fairly certain that the bruise on the right side of his head was something to behold, since it had knocked him cold for a good third of the day. He wasn't able to account for everything but he had his suspicions that the captain had gotten him more than once before he hit the deck (or maybe even after). He'd woken up in the brig with Cookson on guard. The rest of the crew (which he realized composed itself of the pathetic number of two) was cowering in fear on Hook's heels as they hunted down Billy Jukes.
Mullins hadn't been able to get out of the brig until a few hours before dawn. Cookson wasn't as dumb as he looked, which he supposed he's always known, but often found difficult to remember with the way the man acted. It had been luck more than anything that he'd tripped when he had, letting Mullins grab him through the bars and press the stolen dagger to his throat. Despite Cookson's brain-scrambling defense he'd managed to knock him out with the hilt of the dagger and haul him up to the second longboat.
Hook would kill the boy if he could find him. Mullins knew this without a shadow of doubt. With that much fury in the captain's brain it was only a matter of the method of death, though Mullins doubted he would be adverse to torture. The other pirates already had a day's start on him, and Mullins put his faith in Billy's ability to hide himself well enough that Hook wouldn't ever find him. Billy had done it more than once on the Jolly Roger. At first Mullins had almost wanted to ask how a body could hide for so many days on a sealed ship, but with what little he understood of Billy's life he knew the talent had probably been acquired through practice and necessity. He only hoped the boy would have enough sense to show himself if Mullins found him.
"Ahoy there!" Called a voice from above. His hand went immediately to the hilt of Cookson's dagger, though he wished he'd had the presence of mind to take his cutlass from the ship. Something grey and quick sliced through the air near his head and he swung out at it, catching the bird in the tail feathers and sending it into an undignified cartwheel into the dirt. The merlin lay for a moment with his beak in the leaves and his tail in the air.
"What in the blazes…" Mullins crept closer to investigate as the bird rolled onto its feet and brushed the dirt from it's feathers.
"Well I can't say I like that greeting much." It said with an exaggerated british accent.
"I did!" called a second voice, and a spot of giggling blue fairy glow drifted lazily down into the trees. "Can you do it again?"
"Oh, shut up!" The bird craned its neck to look up at Mullins, who was a great deal taller than him, and puffed. "A bit of business then, would you mind, sir? I'm Captain Popper of the Sun Catcher Squadron, wondering if by any chance you might be a pirate?"
"What's it to ya?" Mullins snapped, eyes narrow.
"Well we understand there was an incident aboard the pirate ship yesterday, one of the pirates was killed, we were wondering if you might be a good chap and tell us the name of him for the Records Committee. Where's those bloody glasses?" The last part was directed at the fairy, who dashed into the underbrush and returned dragging something far too much for his weight. It was the mangled, dirty rims of Smee's spectacles.
"Do these look familiar to you? Can you tell us who they belonged to?"
Mullins, who was not in the mood to cooperate, snatched the bird around the neck and brought it's panicked, kicking self up to his face. The fairy clapped.
"I don't have time for this claptrap. I have to find Billy before the captain does, and I won't be dawdled by some moth eaten wind sack and his half witted fairy!"
"Hey! I'm not half witted!" The fairy protested. The bird was, of course, unable to speak (or for that matter breathe).
Mullins dropped the merlin and it landed in a clumsy spread of wings and legs on the ground. Captain Popper immediately jumped to his feet and began to hop. "Oh, you think you can just molest the captain of the Sun Catcher Squad and get away with it? I'll take out your eyes! I'll bite off your nose!"
The pirate's dagger was out to quickly for the bird to realize it, and a moment later it plunged into the ground a hair's breadth from Popper's breast. He squeaked and stared at the silver edge.
"Er, right, no trouble then, hm?" He babbled and scurried away to hide behind Picadilly. Mullins wretched the dagger out of the dirt and cleaned it on his trouser leg before returning it to his sash. The fairy flitted up to Mullins' face with a wide, bucktoothed grin.
"I think we've got ourselves a keeper, Captain Popper! Anyone who tries to kill you must have pretty good sense, don't they?" Below, the merlin hissed. "Maybe you can help us anyway. You see, what we're REALLY supposed to be doing out here is looking for the boy who killed the pirate. General Tory, on Small Monday Island, thinks he probably WAS a pirate. Negroid boy, with long hair, shorter that you?"
Mullins glared at the fairy. "What would you be wantin' with him?"
Captain Popper spoke up, trying to look dignified while sitting on the dirt.
"Suffice to say that if we don't find him, something very bad is going to come of him. As we speak, General Tory of the Night Watch is giving a briefing to His Highness King Oberon and his council. By the time King Oberon makes a decision regarding the boy we're supposed to have found him and reported back."
"That doesn't answer the question." Mullins growled.
"Well, er…" Popper glanced up at Picadilly for help. The fairy sniffed and ignored the plea. "What happens to him will all depend on Oberon's mood. The way the General explained it to me it sounds like his options are either to arrest the boy's growth before he gets any further or, well, issue a death warrant. It will probably be the latter of the two."
"What?!" Mullins grabbed for the bird again but Captain Popper sidestepped him and took off, disappearing into the trees for a moment before circling back. "What happened on that ship was the business of no one but the boy and us pirates! He's already got one pack out to kill him, why don't you just mind your own business!" He shouted. Wheeling tightly over Mullins head, the bird made a good target for a poorly aimed slash, and it faltered in the air and peeled off, the tip of a few primaries missing.
"Pirate with a knife!" Picadilly eeped pointlessly and darted off in the same direction as Captain Popper, shouting back. "You're a big meanie, Mr. Pirate!"
Mullins scowled after them and hesitantly replaced the dagger. The lunge had made the back of his head throb more and he rubbed it absently, dropping his chin. Still laying in the leaves was a twisted mess of silver wire, glinting gently in the filtered light, and he narrowed his eyes at the spectacle frame. Billy had two parties after his blood now. With that demon in him he had to be confused enough as it is, he didn't need the entire island rising against him. Mullins had to find him before the others did. The boy needed his help now more than he ever did, and at least, if worse came to worst, he could stand beside him against the captain.
Like he should have done that morning.
Face turning up in disgust, he ground the spectacles into the dirt with his boot and set off again.
***
"They're looking for you, you know."
Billy's head snapped up at the soft, cooing voice and he scanned the trees for its source, unconsciously turning his back to Slightly's as the other boy did the same. Above and around them was nothing but green and the rough ribs of trees, but the speaker kept itself hidden.
"Neverland is afraid of you. The fairies are, too. Everyone is looking for you."
Their eyes finally settled on the only living creature, nestled in the crook of a tree; a small, pale diamond dove, staring back at them intently.
"Who's looking for me?" Billy demanded of it. "The pirates?"
"Oh, yes." The bird answered softly. "The rumors go very quick in the daytime. They say the pirates are looking for you from over there." It pointed vaguely ahead of them with a wing tip. "Another pirate is over there, but he isn't with the others." It pointed slightly to their right. "The fairies have a merlin and a fairy looking for you from over there." The change of direction was minute. "And The Lost Boys are looking for someone, too, but it isn't you this time. It's him."
Slightly blinked to find the bird pointing at him. It shuffled itself and pulled back into a soft puff of feathers. "They're on the other side of the Indian village right now. I wonder what would happen if they all met." It said. "Why is everyone looking for you? Did you do something so very bad?"
The boys looked at each other and Billy grabbed Slightly's hand, pulling him in the one direction the dove hadn't pointed. "Come on, we have to move."
The dove watched as the boys disappeared into the woods, then sighed and flitted from the branch. They hadn't looked like terribly awful boys. It was too bad what was going to happen to them. Circling the area to memorize its location, the dove flew towards the fairies' scout to report what it had found.