Title: Spirited Away

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Four - Show and Tell (or Friends and Fungi)

Rating: PG13

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Wendy sat on the white sand with her back against a large log, the driftwood bleached as white as the sand. Palm fronds rustled above her head and cast a welcoming shadow over her as she stared out at the bright water, the waves lapping with lazy precision against the shore, the horizon lost in the haze of distance and heat.

Feeling a trickle of sweat work its way down her back, she eased the cotton shirt away from her skin, wafting the broad leaf she employed as a fan in front of her face to create a cooling draft. Her body was more settled, the severe cramps now no more than a memory, the piece of cloth between her legs still bearing the badge of her womanhood but no longer bearing the stigma of pain. Her hand drifted slowly away from the loosened buttons of her shirt, careful not to brush against her tender breasts, another symptom her Mother had warned her about and now had direct experience of. Wendy smiled to herself when she thought of her treatment at Peter's hands, his manner both tender and blunt, apparently not subscribing to the usual male norm of disdaining anything to do with women's problems. He had willingly helped her to the hot spring that morning, leaving her to bathe and attempt to wash out the cloths she had used. As soon as she had dried and redressed herself, he'd appeared and carried the laundry back to the tree house, hanging it out and making her sit down, not allowing her to really lift a finger. She surmised it was partly because he'd had to do everything for himself for so long that he didn't think it odd to do it now, a perspective she found refreshing coming as she did from a society where such matters as laundry were an anathema to most males.

It made her feel as if she was made of the finest china as he fussed over her, his eyes following her until she shooed him away to go hunt, or whatever he usually did, leaving her to amuse herself as she saw fit. With obvious reluctance he had done as she bid, gathering his knife and other paraphernalia and disappearing into the forest to restock their larder. Wendy had wandered around the glade after renewing her acquaintance with the tree house, before exploring further, ending up at the cove with its enticingly warm ocean and shady beach.

Her eyes slid shut against the glare and she let her mind wander, reviewing all that had happened in the few short days since she'd been precipitated back to Neverland.

She must have dozed because she awoke with a start and blinked, the dark shape in the water a blur until she focussed. When she did she gasped out loud, her fingers pressed against her mouth.

The figure in the water stared back at her from obsidian eyes, the waves buffeting the creature as she wallowed in the shallows.

Opening her mouth the Mermaid emitted a sound that Wendy felt in her insides, setting them quivering. As if pulled by strings Wendy rose to her feet, dropping the leaf fan from lax fingers, and started down the slope of the beach towards the water. The Mermaid kept up the sound until Wendy was within a foot of the water then she stopped.

As if in a trance Wendy stood beyond the reach of the waves, swaying slightly, the rising breeze pushing strands of hair into her face.

Rising up on her tail the Mermaid regarded the human girl, blinking slowly as she studied Wendy from top to toe. As if satisfied, she opened her mouth and another sound emerged, much softer than the first. As if waking from a sleep Wendy blinked and look around, confused to find herself beside the water.

"What happened to me?"

"I call you, woman."

"Why?"

"You Pan's...you fix him."

The Mermaid's speech was labored and broken, the words interspersed with clicks and throaty noises that made understanding the creature a challenge. Wendy's forehead creased as she tried to decipher the words.

"Fix?"

"Pan...not Pan...you put right."

"You want me to...help Peter remember?"

"Yes...yes.." The creature nodded enthusiastically, her sculptured lips pulling away from her sharp teeth in a parody of a smile.

Wendy stared fascinated, her previous encounter too brief to allow her to get really close to the mythical creatures.

Pulling her thoughts together, Wendy shook her head slightly to clear her mind.

"What happened to Peter...to me?"

"Pan need woman...need...Pan alone."

"Yes..but why me?"

"You Pan's." The creature stated emphatically, sitting back on her tail and crossing her scaly arms across her chest.

"How did I get here...and how am I like..."Wendy waved at herself, "This?"

"Not important."

"Well it is to me...how do I get home again?"

The Mermaid reared up, towering over Wendy so that she stepped back.

"You stay...fix Pan...never leave."

"But..."

With a slap of her tail, the Mermaid sent a sheet of water up the beach.

"Stupid woman...not listen...must fix Pan...or all die!" She hissed, baring her teeth in a grimace, her black eyes blazing.

Swallowing her fear, Wendy stood her ground.

"You fix him then...I don't know what you expect me to do."

"Be Pan's woman...Pan return when Pan finish what he started."

"You're talking in riddles...I don't understand."

"Must leave...Pan approaches...can feel him...be his woman..."

"No wait..." Wendy reached to stop the Mermaid but reared back when the creature hissed violently, her webbed hands sprouting claws that swiped the air in front of the girl.

With a muscular flex of her tail, the Mermaid threw herself back into the water, the splash soaking Wendy as she threw her arms up to protect herself. When Wendy lowered her arms the Mermaid was gone, only ripples and foam to indicate she had ever been there.

Wendy stood on the sand staring blankly at the ocean, willing the creature to return and explain. A touch on her shoulder made her scream and spin around, losing her balance.

"Hey...steady..." Peter grabbed her shoulders with both hands to stop her toppling over, his brows drawn together in a frown as he took in Wendy's bedraggled state and white face.

"Oh Peter...oh you scared me..." Wendy gasped, leaning towards him and resting her head against his chest, her heart hammering as she fought back the moment of panic.

Feeling her trembling, Peter pulled her closer, his head turning to search the surrounding for some clue as to what had so frightened her. Seeing nothing, he gently pushed Wendy away and tilted her face up to look at him.

"What happened ?"

"A...Mermaid, she came right up here, on the beach...she spoke to me."

Peter eyed her speculatively, his hands coming up to feel her head for bumps. "Sure you didn't fall and pass out or something?"

Wendy slapped his hands away, taking a step back from him. "I'm fine Peter...it was a Mermaid...she spoke to me and told me...things."

"It was a dream Wendy...you must have dozed off."

Almost stamping her foot in frustration, Wendy scowled at him. "I was not sleeping...she called to me and spoke...she..." Wendy stopped, not at all sure what the Mermaid had really said or wanted of her.

"Go on...what did she say?"

"She said...I had to...fix you."

Peter gave a shout of laughter, his eyes dancing as Wendy scowled more ferociously. "Fix me? There's nothing wrong with me!"

"Yes there is...you can't remember anything before you washed up on that beach, you said so yourself. And you can't remember Tinkerbell, or me or the Lost boys or Hook or...or...anything!"

This time it was Peter's turn to scowl, his eyes darkening in anger and frustration. "So what...who cares about them...they're not here, and I only have your word that they ever existed outside of your imagination!"

"Oh don't you dare say I dreamt it all up...they are real, as real as you and I..."

"I wonder if you know the difference between what's real and what's not...I don't believe you saw a Mermaid...you were asleep and had a dream...that's all!" Peter shouted at her, his hands on his hips.

"I did not...you horrid, arrogant, conceited...BOY!" Feeling tears pricking her eyes, Wendy flung away from him and ran up the beach, stumbling as her feet sank into the soft sand. Peter watched her go but didn't follow, his lips clamped together to prevent a string of curses escaping as he fought to control his temper.

As quickly as it had risen, his temper cooled and he started up the beach after her, pausing at the tree-line to look back at the sea, seeing nothing but sea gulls and waves, no evidence of anything else to lend credence to Wendy's claims. Huffing a sigh, he turned and disappeared into the trees, not seeing the dark head break the water out in the lagoon, the Mermaid's dark eyes glinting narrowly before she dived back under the surface.

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Wendy's healing feet scuffed through the soft leaf litter as she paced back and forth, her thoughts a jumble of confusion, still angry with Peter for his continued denial and angry at the Mermaid for her cryptic words, so tantalizing but confusing. What did she mean by 'fix'? What was wrong with Peter? What did she mean when she said that she, Wendy, could never leave? And did the Mermaid know how Wendy could go home?

One hand on her hip, Wendy continued to pace, oblivious to her surroundings.

From the concealing depths of a thicket a pair of shrewd brown eyes watched the girl pacing back and forth, a faint smile curling the thin lips set in a berry brown face. His thick, straight black hair was tied in a top-knot decorated with shells and bones carvings, streaks of white paint decorating the small man's face and body, his limbs well muscled and also decorated with painted patterns. Around his waist was tied a length of cloth, his feet bare with ankles surrounded by shell bracelets that clicked together faintly as he shifted. For all his primitive decorations, the small man held an expression of calm sagacity, his age indeterminate but his eyes holding the wisdom of the ages.

Unaware of her audience Wendy continued her musings, her brows pulled together in a frown. As she whirled around to start back on her path, Peter appeared in front of her halting her progress.

"Wendy please..." Peter started, holding his hands palm out in a pacifying gesture that Wendy chose to ignore.

"Don't Peter...you think I'm making this all up...but I'm not. A Mermaid did speak to me...she did."

Using his most engaging smile, Peter lowered his hands. "I believe you."

Wendy regarded him suspiciously, her heart melting a little at the curl of his lips, her own begging to echo that smile but her mind ruthlessly suppressing the urge. "You believe me?"

"I believe...that you believe that you saw a Mermaid."

"Good grief!" Wendy threw her hands up, stomping past Peter to resume her pacing. Peter darted forward to place himself in her path and Wendy had to pull up short or collide with him.

"I'm sorry...but you have to admit it all sounds fantastic...almost unbelievable. Mermaids...Fairies...Pirates?"

"But that's what Neverland is Peter...fantastic, wonderful. Its a place where your dreams comes true...it was your place once...your dream."

"So you say...and apparently I can fly and I fight pirates...with a sword, I believe you said?"

"You could Peter...if you only had a sword I'd show you!"

"I do."

Wendy blinked. "You do?"

"Yes...I found a long case washed up, in it was a pair of elaborately decorated swords as well as a pair of dueling pistols."

The wind taken out of her sails, Wendy finally gave into her heart and let her lips curl up into a smile the mirrored his own.

"Then I think it's time we test your memory."

Not waiting for Peter to reply, Wendy dodged around him and headed off back to the tree house.

"Hey...wait!" Peter called, jogging after her.

In the bushes, the little man smiled broadly before giving a nod, satisfied that events were moving along apace. With a last glance at the now empty glade, he turned away and started to walk, quickly melting into the shadows as the forest swallowed him up.

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Peter stared down at the intricate basket hilt of the sword clasped in his sweating palm. The weight felt both strange and familiar, the muscles in his arm flexing expectantly as he hefted the blade, finding his balance as he experimented with lifting and swinging the blade around his body and over his head. Wendy stood some distance away, also testing her blade, her own muscles protesting at the heaviness dragging her arms down, both hands having to hold the hilt upright. This was no childish blade, scaled down to her size; this was a fighting blade, albeit more ornately decorated, the steel lethally sharp and balanced to perfection.

Studiously avoiding thinking about the men the dueling blade might have killed since it was made, she swung it carefully, feeling it pull her off balance, her hands white knuckled as she attempted to control the pull of the counter swing.

Peter was feeling more confident, twirling the rapier with one hand, showing off his superior strength and ability as the metal flashed and sliced through the air before he stopped it in a graceful swoop, moving into the en garde position.

"This is easier than I thought," he crowed, grinning from ear to ear. Wendy smiled back, pleased that his body had not forgotten its skills even if his mind had difficulty remembering. Approaching, she also placed herself in the starting position, praying silently that her arm held out long enough to give him a run for his money.

"En garde!" Wendy cried, tapping Peter's blade with her own. Peter tapped her back and they backed away a step. Poised on the balls of his feet, Peter flexed his knees and lunged, Wendy parrying his feint and returned the move, their blades sliding against each other as Wendy pressed forward and Peter gave ground. As they tested their defenses the glade rang with the clash of metal on metal. Wendy could feel each blow up her forearm, her free hand coming to support the other as she fielded another blow, her knuckles turning white with the strain.

Peter appeared to be suffering no such strain, his blows controlled and deadly accurate, his body perfectly balanced as he moved like a dancer, blocking and feinting without any apparent conscious decision.

It ended when Wendy failed to properly block and her blade slipped, Peter's rapier over-reaching and connecting with her upper arm, drawing blood. Wendy's blade dipped as she clapped a hand over the wound, Peter dropping his own sword to the ground and rushing forward.

"Wendy, I'm sorry...I didn't mean...let me see!"

Just as shocked at the suddenness of the injury, Wendy let the sword drop from her fingers as Peter eased her hand away from her arm to better see the cut. Bright blood stained her shirt sleeve as Peter ripped the material before applying pressure, his fingers shaking slightly as he waited for the bleeding to ease.

"I'm so sorry...you dropped your guard and I couldn't stop..."

"I know...Peter it's alright...it's only a nick!" Touched by his concern, Wendy allowed him to help her to sit down, her arm sore and starting to throb but only bleeding sluggishly.

"I guess this answers the question rather emphatically." Wendy ventured a moment later, more in an effort to distract Peter who was still holding her arm, blood seeping through his fingers.

"What question?" Peter asked, flicking his eyes to hers.

"Whether you know how to sword fight..."

Peter only grunted, lifting his hand and watching the wound, ready to clap his fingers back if it continued to bleed.

"I think its stopped, but we need to bandage it," he pronounced, his expression serious.

Wendy attempted to lighted the mood and reached up her free hand to touch his cheek, bringing his eyes round to meet hers.

"It was an accident Peter...you didn't mean to hurt me."

"Stupid idea to fight in the first place...should have realised you're not strong enough...stupid."

"If you're going to start telling me that girls can't fight I'll box your ears!"

A smile suddenly quirked Peter's lips, his eyes dancing at her fierce tone. "I was going to say I thought you defended yourself admirably, but if you're going to box my ears..."

"Oh really!" Wendy huffed, unable to prevent a smile curving her own lips at his compliment.

With infinite care Peter helped her to her feet, not letting go of her until she assured him she didn't feel faint or dizzy, then they made their slow progress back to the tree house. Peter went back to collect the rapiers after he settled Wendy in the upstairs room, hurrying back to help her wash and bandage the cut and put the arm into a sling to avoid any jolting.

"This is rather silly Peter," Wendy remarked, gesturing to the sling.

"You don't want to open the wound and bleed all over the place, do you?"

"Well no...but don't you think..?"

"The sling stays...at least until tomorrow."

Giving in to his dictatorial demands with a faint sigh, Wendy settled herself on the mattress with her back against the wall, watching Peter fill the beakers with water, one of which he passed to her before joining her.

"So...I guess I know how to handle a sword." Peter stated after a few minutes.

"Yes Peter...you do." She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Still think I'm making this all up?"

"You were right about the sword fighting...but that could have been a lucky guess...you've yet to prove that all the rest is for real." Peter retorted, ignoring the glint that appeared in Wendy's eye at his continued refusal to believe her.

"I see. I can't force the Mermaids to appear, any more than I can force the fairies...I guess we'll have to wait and see."

"What about the pirates and the Indians?"

"Well the Jolly Roger was obviously destroyed, for whatever reason, and Hook had already been swallowed by the crocodile, so he was done for. Maybe the crew were killed in whatever wrecked the ship."

Peter appeared to think about that for a few minutes before he ventured to speak. "Would you recognize this ship if you saw it?"

Wendy appeared startled but quickly recovered." I think so...parts of it certainly."

Peter swirled the last of his water around in his cup, staring into its depths.

"Can you swim?"

Amused, Wendy shot him a quick glance. "Yes...although not strongly."

Peter glanced sideways at her. "I know where the ship is...or at least where it went down."

"Where?"

"Not that far from here...just over the headland."

As he fiddled with his cup he wondered if he was doing the right thing, not at all sure that he wanted to find out more about his past. The sword fight had been a revelation, his body seemingly well able to take care of itself, his arms and legs responding to signals he wasn't even aware of giving, the sword feeling like an old friend in his hands. Even now he could feel the rush of exhilaration that set his heart thumping and his blood singing in his veins leaving him feeling more alive than ever before. He now wondered what other surprises were waiting for him aboard the wreckage of the ship Wendy seemed convinced was called the Jolly Roger.

"I'll take you there...but not until tomorrow."

Ignoring Wendy's pout, Peter collected the cups together and climbed to his feet. "I have to scale my catch..."

"I'll come and watch..." Wendy started, struggling to get to her feet one handed.

"No...stay here...rest...it won't take long."

"But..."

"NO!" Peter barked, making Wendy stop her struggles and stare up at him in surprise.

"Peter?"

Ignoring the hurt sound in her voice, Peter tumbled the cups onto the table and stalked off, not trusting himself to go if he looked back and saw the confusion in her eyes. Swinging himself down the ladder he yanked at the rope and stalked out of the tree, kicking up the leaves as he took himself off to the cook house. He didn't know why he was angry, only that he felt unsettled and unsure. Most of his insecurity seemed to stem from the girl sitting in the tree, his heart contracting painfully when he recalled how close he'd come to severely injuring her, her blood warm and sticky under his fingertips, his eyes riveted to the pulse beating in her throat. For a wild moment he'd wanted to press his lips to that pulse, to feel the life surging through her, a life that could so easily be ended with the slip of a blade. He felt pulled in all direction, needing and wanting to be near her, to touch her, talk to her but also scared to death of the power she seemed to have over him, her allure impossible to resist.

Needing to vent some of his frustration he subjected his catch to a rough scaling before slitting the fish from stem to stern and almost savagely gutting them, his violent emotions barely scratched by the mundane task. Needing some other physical activity to distract him, he grabbed the small hatchet that sat beside the woodpile and headed off into the thicket, selecting a fallen sapling to chop into firewood. The effort of hacking the dead wood into usable pieces proved mind numbingly effective, his body working up a sweat as he expended his excess energy. In the end he created enough firewood for a week and the fish done to a fine turn on the skewers. After wrapping the fish in the ever present leaves, he decided to leave Wendy to eat alone while he had a soak in the hot pool and washed off the evidence of his mornings work.

Wendy had been staring out at the jungle, her mind turning over recent events, when Peter returned to the tree house, one arm carrying a leaf wrapped bundle which he dropped onto the table.

"Lunch." Was all he said before going to the corner and snagging the bar of soap and one of the newly cleaned towels.

"Peter?"

"I need to wash off this sweat...I'll be back later."

Avoiding eye contact, Peter quickly descended the ladder and marched down the short path to the pool. Stripping off his stained shirt and dark trousers, he picked up his knife and laid it with the soap on a rock by the steaming water, his fingers untying the thong holding his hair back before he entered the pool. Dunking himself he rubbed himself all over to sluice off the worst of the dirt before soaping himself and his hair until both squeaked with cleanliness. Shaking himself like a dog, he reached up and pulled some of his long hair around and peered at it, grimacing at the ragged ends. Reaching for the knife he started to slice off his sun bleached locks, hunks of his hair dropping to the surface of the water where he scooped them up and dumped them on the side. As he worked he checked periodically on his reflection in the surface of the water, his fingers finding any long strands that he missed. It was crude and ragged but his neck and shoulders were no longer irritated and tickled by the unruly strands. At last he could run his hand over his shorn head and feel no missed hair, his fingers running over what was left in wonderment. Dunking himself under the water to remove any left over clippings, he broke the surface to find himself the subject of a curious pair of brown eyes, the owner sitting cross legged on the soft grass near the tree line.

"An improvement, I'm thinking." Remarked the little man, his eyes twinkling.

"Who the hell are you?" Peter growled, reaching for his knife once more.

"Not needing that, you'll be. I come to see if the rumours are true."

"Who are you and what rumours are you talking about?"

His knife clasped loosely in his hand, Peter regarded the stranger with narrowed eyes, noting the dark skin, glossy topknot and strange ornamentation, the bones and shells gleaming in the dappled sunlight.

"Who I am is not important, but you can call me Kiranowangakatangatowaki...or call me Kirano if that is too long."

"That's a long name for a small man." Peter remarked, his lips quirking.

Kirano shrugged, "I was named for this island...'Son of the island which gives life to all and lives in a dream'."

Peter regarded the small native with a shrewd gaze, noting the lack of any weapons other than the tiny bow strung over his chest and a stout staff that lay by the man's feet, its surface intricately carved.

"I don't intend to hurt you, Kirano..but I'm getting out of this pool now and getting dressed."

"As I would expect from one purported to be the Pan, cautious yet courteous...you have nothing to fear from me." The little man watched as Peter rose from the water, his knife laid to one side as he roughly toweled himself dry and donned his clothes. Sheathing his blade once more at his waist, Peter sat cross legged on the grass in front of Kirano.

"You freed me from the trap." Peter suddenly stated, receiving confirmation when Kirano inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"It was never intended for you, or anyone...I was hoping to trap a fine boar that is known to use that trail."

"Did you?"

"Alas the creature is more cunning than I and managed to evade my best efforts, he lives to fight another day."

"And that was your fire in the rift?"

"The nights are cool and my old bones get more brittle each year."

Peter snorted in amusement, noting the man's semi naked state and good physical condition.

"Why have I not seen you before now?"

"You were not ready."

"What's changed?"

"She has come."

"You mean Wendy?"

"She will put things back the way they should be."

"Things?"

"You...this place...the people's that exist here."

Peter's brow furrowed as he tried to fathom what the extraordinary little man was saying.

"There are other's here?"

"Certainly...this is not a dead place...this island breathes, lives, grows, dreams...there are many who's lives depend upon your own."

"I don't understand..."

"It is not necessary for you to understand...you just need to accept."

"Then Wendy was telling the truth...about the Mermaid's, the fairies...the Indians?"

"Your woman is not given to telling lies...trust your heart Pan...it will lead you to the truth, maybe the greatest truth this world has ever known. It will lead you back to the beginning and onwards to the future."

"Maybe you can explain then...she say's that I've changed, that I was not like this only a short time ago. What does she mean and what happened to me?"

Kirano sighed. "This place is like no other...it can change anything and anyone to suit its moods. It changed you, it changed her, it can change someone to save them, it can change someone to give them their deepest desire...you it changed because as the boy you were, you would not have survived, as a man you could...as you have, and as you will. She was changed because you no longer needed a child for company, you needed something that was your own, had always been yours and would be yours forever...so she was and so she is."

Shaking his head, Peter opened his mouth to speak, to clarify the riddles the mans was speaking but Kirano held up a hand and Peter snapped his mouth shut.

"I am not allowed to explain further...I can only speak as the island guides me...no more. She is restless and has need of you...we will return."

Stretching out his cramped limbs, Kirano rose to his feet, Peter also rising to find that the small man barely reached to mid thigh.

"But..." Peter started only to be stopped again by a raised hand.

"I will tell you no more...this is a journey Pan...one you must make, with her or without her...with her, we all stand a chance to live and be what we should be...without her, you are no more, no less than an ordinary man and this island...is just an island."

Picking up his staff, Kirano turned to leave the grotto, the shells around his ankles clicking together as he walked. Picking up his discarded soap and towel, Peter followed, more confused than ever and unable to make head or tail of Kirano's riddles.

"Hey wait..." Peter called, having lost sight of the small man. Bursting through the bushes into the clearing around his home tree, Peter saw Kirano performing a low bow to Wendy who stood framed in the entrance to the tree, her eyes meeting his in surprise and some bewilderment.

"Peter...this...er...man just appeared."

"This is Kirano...I...met him at the pool."

"It is a pleasure to at last meet the much beloved Wendy Darling." Kirano announced, drawing Wendy's attention back to him.

"Oh...thank you...Kirano?" Hampered by her arm still in a sling, and not wearing shirts, Wendy performed a shaky curtsy her blue eyes darting back to Peter and suddenly noting his altered appearance.

"Oh my gosh...you're hair...what did you do?"

Flushing under her shocked scrutiny, Peter ran his hand over his stubbled head, the short strands feeling strange.

"I cut it."

"I can see that..." Wendy replied, a little shocked at the abrupt change, her eyes raking over his handsome face while her fingers itched to run through his shortened bristles. Clenching her free hand to still the urge, she returned her attention to the small man standing at her feet, his amused eyes watching their interchange with no small amount of interest.

"Um...Kirano? Would you like to share our midday meal..."

"It is long past midday Pan's lady, and I am hungry. I will share your meal...if I am permitted to add something to the repast?"

Seeing that he carried nothing more than a small bow, quiver and his staff, Wendy looked over to Peter who only shrugged.

"Um...certainly." Wendy replied, wondering what he could possibly add to the fish and water waiting on the table upstairs.

As Wendy and Peter looked on, Kirano walked over to a patch of clear ground and scraped away the carpet of leaf mulch with his staff until he had a bare circle of dirt. Standing with his feet apart he raised the ornate staff above his head with both hands before bringing it down hard, hitting the exact center of the circle of exposed earth at his feet. Immediately the earth started to heave in that small area around the staff, the ground cracking and breaking up as something pushed through. In the space of a few seconds bulbous white fungi were popping up all around the staff and even beyond the circle of cleared ground, all around Kirano's bare feet until the ground was white and thickly carpeted with gleaming white mushrooms.

Peter had edged closer to the tree and Wendy in a protective gesture, not at all sure what to expect, his eyes widening along with hers as they watched Kirano bring forth a feast of fungi. Just as the white caps seemed set to engulf the entire glade, Kirano lifted the staff from the ground and the explosion of growth stopped abruptly.

"You're sling please?" Kirano held out his hand to Wendy who slipped the cloth square over her head and stepped forward, careful not to step on the newly emerged mushrooms, to hand it to the man.

Bending down Kirano picked a dozen or more of the choicest specimens and bundled them up in the cloth, clutching the edges together in one hand while he lifted the staff again with the other. This time when he brought the staff down on the earth the white field of mushrooms started to shrink, the white caps disappearing back under the earth until none were left except those held in his hand.

"These will be acceptable, will they not?"

Kirano stepped over to the stunned pair by the tree and held the cloth bundle out to Wendy.

"T-t-thank you..." Wendy stammered, taking the bundle and peering past the tiny man at the ground beyond.

"How did you do that?" Peter asked, staring at the staff with new respect.

"A small gift granted to me by the spirit of this island..." Kirano shrugged, stepping past Wendy's legs and disappearing into the tree.

Exchanging a look with Peter, Wendy unwrapped the cloth and stared at the pristine fungi now cupped in her hand.

"I guess we're having mushrooms with our fish," said Peter with a cocky grin.

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TBC...