7/02/07
Title: The care and feeding of flying boys
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: nine – In Luke-warm Pursuit
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The wolf pack was leading them higher and higher into the hills, the slopes becoming steeper until the humans were almost on their hands and knees. It was past midday and the heat of the sun was bouncing off the grassland in waves, the few trees capable of providing some shade becoming farther apart as they climbed. Wendy mopped her face with her hand, a sympathetic whine coming from the wolf keeping pace with her on once side.
"I'm sure you must be suffering more than me with your thick coat," Wendy remarked, the wolf replying by lolling out a long pink tongue and panting. All around them the wolf pack was strung out over the slopes. Only the adults had accompanied Wendy and Jack, the puppies left with their mothers in the broad meadow, the trip too long and arduous for the young to attempt. Jack was using the sleeve of his shirt to mop his forehead, sweat making the material cling to his back and chest, his long black hair hanging free around his face.
"This is a bloody torture," Jack swore, his boots slipping again as he tried to find purchase on the sloping hillside, Wendy having a better grip with bare feet.
"Maybe you should take your boots off," Wendy suggested, receiving a dark look for her trouble.
"Maybe you should just shut up, miss hoity-toity!"
His next utterance was a yelp when one of the wolves lunged forward and bit him, a painful nip on his backside. "What the bloody hell was that for?!"
"I don't think they liked the way you spoke to me," Wendy suggested, fighting to keep the smile off her face as Jack limped forward, rubbing at the sore spot with one hand. They continued in silence for a little while, always heading upwards, the trees all but vanished from the hillside now, leaving only tussock and scrub and no shade from the sun. One of the black wolves came forward, Jack's water pouch on it's back, offering it to Wendy. Undoing the buckle, Wendy eased it off the wolf's back and gratefully unplugged the cork, drinking deeply of the water before passing it to Jack, who took it grudgingly, but drank all the same. The pack were all laying down in the grass around them, tongues lolling as they panted, Jack and Wendy also sitting, looking back down the slope at the distance they'd come and the view laid out before them.
"What a view," Wendy breathed, "I've never seen anything like this before."
"Bloody place is full of wonderful this and magnificent that...sometimes you just wish it was damn ordinary."
"London was ordinary...and smoky, grimy, noisy, smelly...very ordinary."
"Are you prepared to swap it for all this?" Jack swept his arm in an arc to indicate Neverland, "because this is what you are getting in exchange. A half wild, barbaric wilderness with little or no civilization, nothing ordinary or safe or predictable, in fact anything but."
"Maybe I'm tired of the safe and predictable," Wendy retorted, staring defiantly at the view.
"And maybe you're happy to kiss goodbye to soft beds and running water, fashionable clothes and books!"
Jack's biting words made Wendy start. "Books?" Not realizing she'd spoken aloud, she jumped when Jack let out a hard bark of laughter.
"Yes missy...books. There ain't no libraries on this lump of dirt, no museums or art galleries, restaurants or hotels..."
"What would you know of such things if you've been here for hundreds of years?" Wendy cut off Jack, her gaze scathing.
"Even the Greeks had libraries...and I'm not some ignorant peasant!"
"Well neither am I! I'm not some soft, wilting flower to give up at the first hurdle. And anyway...Peter traveled to my world, why can't I travel as well?"
"True...but will you be satisfied with fleeting visits? Peter will never want to stay longer than a few hours...his heart, his soul will always be here. No woman can break that hold on him...no even you, love."
"This is ridiculous...I haven't even decided if I'm going to stay here in Neverland...so all this is just stupid hot air."
"Not stay? Do you seriously think this place will ever let you go now?" Jack snorted, his face creasing with a wide grin. "Don't you think we've tried...more times than I can remember...more times than there stars in the 'eavens."
"Tried what?"
"To leave this place...to sail away and never come back...to die and stay dead forever."
"You're talking nonsense, of course if you die it's forever." Wendy shifted uncomfortably.
"No here...not in Neverland. How do you think 'ol Hook manages to keep his crew? If every pirate killed stayed dead, the ship would be empty in weeks. It ain't called Never Neverland for nothing. Nobody ever dies...not forever...they all come back...one way, or another. Not always in their original form, mind you. That took a bit of figuring out at first, but it soon came clear that certain animals and things were turning up, out of the blue you might say."
"I don't understand what your saying."
"Look. You know I said that these wolves are not what you think they are."
"Maybe..." Wendy bit her lip, dreading what was to be said next.
"Well...let's just say they weren't always members of the pack. It's a kind of renewable resource, if you like. When a creature or person dies within Neverland's boundary, they are reborn into one thing or another. Sometimes into the same form as before, if the need is there...sometimes into a different form. It explains why there are never more than sufficient crew for the Jolly Roger despite the number of battles and lives lost over the years."
"What you say is...crazy."
Jack shrugged. "There's an old saying...don't ask me where it comes from, cos I don't know. It goes something like...While Life is Renewed then Neverland Flourishes – If ever a Life Ends Forever then Neverland Perishes."
"But you said yourself...everyone...everything is renewed in Neverland." Wendy looked at Jack, confusion clear on her face.
"Quite right...but then everyone, everything has been here for a very long time, so long they are part of the whole shebang. Part of the fabric of the place, if you like."
"So?"
"You are still connected to the world beyond Neverland...you are still uncorrupted, unsullied, untouched by this place...by Peter. You are the only creature on this whole island that can still die and stay dead...forever."
Wendy stared open mouthed at Jack, her eyes wide as she tried to understand his meaning. Jack lay back in the long grass, his hands clasped behind his head, his mischief done.
"But if that happens...then what you said...about Neverland perishing...it could come true?"
"It could girly girl. We could all be released from this hellish prison and set free, free at last," Jack answered her triumphantly, his black eyes gleaming as he smiled smugly at Wendy.
"I could be the means to destroy all this?" Wendy asked faintly, feeling nauseous. Jack nodded his head, pulling up a grass stalk and starting to chew on it. The wolves around them suddenly rose up and circled them, one reaching down to nip at Jack's boots, the young man rapidly finding his feet to avoid being bitten again. Wendy rose more slowly to her feet, her mind numb from everything that Jack had told her. "I don't believe you," she said, stiffening her back and lifting her head imperiously, "I don't believe you at all. I think you've made all that up to frighten me and to justify your nefarious intentions."
Jack shrugged and turned away, the sly smile curving his lips hidden from Wendy as he started up the slope once more. That should give the stupid girl something to chew on, and hopefully send her running back home before any more damage could be done. Satisfied that he'd sown the seeds to influence the decision Wendy would soon have to make, Jack tramped up the hill in a much better mood than he'd been in before. Behind him, Wendy focused her gaze on the slope ahead and tried to shut out the conflicting voices in her head, all of them screaming at her to leave Neverland as soon as it was possible.
Not long after their short stop, the wolves suddenly ceased their climb, Wendy and Jack not noticing until they were several steps ahead. A short bark from the leader of the pack alerted them that the wolves were no longer beside them. Jack turned around and took a step back down the slope only to be met with a trio of snarling black wolves, their teeth very white and sharp in the afternoon sun. Wendy didn't move from where she was, her eyes wide with trepidation.
"What's happening Jack...why have they stopped?"
The pack leader stepped forward and addressed himself to Wendy, despite her inability to understand him.
"You, humans, must keep climbing and reach the Cave of Dreams, there you will find one who will know what to do about you both. Keep going as you have, you will reach it before dark."
Jack chewed over what the wolf leader had said, Wendy looking over at him for a translation, her gaze darting back and forth between the leader and Jack.
"What did he say?"
"That we have to go on alone and to keep climbing until we reach some cave up there," he pointed up towards the summit.
"Is that all?" Wendy asked, glancing up the slope and squinting to see how far they still had to climb. Jack nodded and turned to go, but the wolf leader hadn't finished yet.
"Know this, Black Jack, we will remain here until we have a signal that you have reached your destination. Do not think to return down this mountain until you have been to the Cave of Dreams. We will know and you fate will be sealed."
This time all the wolves bared their impressive fangs, presenting Jack with visions of being torn to pieces in a painful and hideous death. Swallowing, he nodded to the pack leader and turned once more to continue the climb. Wendy hesitated before following, the brown and white wolf padding forward and pushing it's head under her hand for a stroke before turning away to let the girl follow the young pirate up the hillside. Wendy felt a sudden loss and wanted to call the animal back, her eyes pricking as she raised her hand to bid them all farewell before turning her back on them. As she started to climb after Jack, the wolves all lifted their muzzles and let out a series of howls, baying at the sky in farewell for several minutes before sinking down into the long grass to start their vigil. Far below and off towards the east the sky was turning an ominous color, the late afternoon sun almost cowering from the growing sheet of black cloud starting to thicken and spread over the sky.
It would seem that the Pan was finally aware that his Wendy was missing.
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Peter had arrived back at the Indian Village to find it a bustle of activity. The women were engaged in the usual domestic toil of daily life while their menfolk worked to rebuild the destroyed tepees. Still others worked to rebuild the stockade, the Chief directing the warriors as they used ropes to position a new pole to fill one splintered by cannon fire.
Peter touched down at a run, approaching the chief almost out of breath from his flight from the coast. Talagumpa grabbed Peter anxiously, the mans huge hands clamping like manacles around the younger man's upper arms.
"You found her...my daughter?"
"Yes Chief...she follows with Tinkerbell...did you find Wendy?"
"My Lily is unhurt, untouched?"
"Yes...yes she's fine. What about Wendy? Has anyone seen her? Where are my Lost Boys?"
"They searched the village then took off...in that direction, or so it was reported to me." Talagumpa let go of Peter after giving him a searching glance. "What happened to the men I sent with you?"
"They follow along with Crate and the others."
"Good. We'll prepare a feast for the returning heroes...you will be our guest of honor!"
"I can't...I have to go..." Peter found himself lifted off the ground, once more gripped by the Chief's meaty hands.
"Not a request...an order. This has been a fight to sing about for years to come...and my Lily will want to thank you properly, as will the village for her safe return."
"You don't understand...Wendy..." Peter tried to struggle, but despite the Chief's age, he was very fit, Peter unable to loosen the grip on his arms even a smidgen
"Tonight we feast...tomorrow you go find your Wendy. Do I have to make a spell?"
Well aware that the Chief could tether him in one place with the utterance of just one word, Peter ceased his attempts to free himself and slowly nodded his head, his mouth set mutinously. Chief Talagumpa grunted his acknowledgment of Peter's defeat, releasing the younger man slowly and indicating for a party of warriors to come forward and escort Peter to the Chief's tepee. Fuming, Peter allowed the braves to take him to the large tent, its sides richly decorated with painted images and ceremonial feathers of many colors. With an angry glance over his shoulder, Peter flung back the doorway flap and went inside, the braves standing guard either side of the entrance, their brawny arms folded over their broad, copper colored chests.
As unusual as it seemed, in this instance the Chief had the whip hand over Peter. It was both custom and unalterable that whenever Peter was involved in the rescue of any of the tribe, it was the perfect excuse to host a banquet in his honor. Usually this was greeted with enthusiasm by everyone, including Peter and the pattern was firmly set. On this occasion Peter was wishing himself anywhere but inside the Chief's tepee, his feet tramping back and forth over the dirt floor until he was sure a furrow was forming. The only thing keeping him from going mad from worry and frustration was the report from Crate that apart from boarding the Jolly Roger, the pirates that had left Hook at Skull Rock had not had a prisoner with them, and there was no sign of one aboard the ship. Which meant that Wendy was still on Neverland and not a captive of the pirates, a small comfort but one that gave him some relief. Another point to consider were the second party of Lost Boys were also not in the Indian village, which meant they were following a lead, and probably going to find Wendy and bring her back at any moment. It would be madness to go off without some idea of where she was or what direction she went, Peter kicking at an inoffensive basket as he pondered the alternatives. He could leave the village, but he'd have to avoid every Indian brave within the compound as well as the Chief, who could quite capably invoke a binding spell and confine Peter forcefully. That the Chief had never resorted to such an extreme measure spoke of the long years of association, but even he had limits, and Peter wasn't prepared to test those boundaries without just cause. The more he reasoned, the more Peter managed to convince himself that Wendy was in no danger – this was Neverland, his kingdom, his world. She would be safe until Peter was free to set out in search for her, happy in the knowledge that his Lost Boys – Stretch, Harry, Grub and Squid, would take good care of Wendy and lead her back to the village, maybe even in time to take part in the feast. Content with his convenient logic, Peter ceased to pace like a Tiger and sank down on his haunches, accepting the beaker of Indian beer offered to him by one of the Chief's wives, the good woman only now noticed as she came forward from cowering back in the shadows.
Tiger Lily duly arrived in the village just before midday, Tinkerbell leaving the Indian girl to be welcomed and heartily embraced by her father, while Tink went in search of Peter. She fervently hoped the stupid human girl had been swallowed by the crocodile, but that was too much to hope for so she contented herself with finding Peter Pan who was on the verge of being tipsy from all the Indian beer he'd been supplied with. Following the sound of Peter singing lustily at the top of his lungs, Tink flew into the Chief's tent and alighted on a decorative feathered war bonnet hung against one wall. On seeing his fairy friend enter the tent, Peter stopped singing and jumped to his feet, the beaker of beer going flying as Peter flung his arms wide.
"Tink...you're back!"
Smiling smugly, Tink fluttered through the air and hovered inches from Peter's face. "Where else would I be?"
"Tink...I missed you. Why'cha go away?"
"You banished me...you silly ass," Tink answered crossly, peering at Peter while he tried to focus on her with eyes that had a tendency to go cross-eyed in the attempt.
"Did I? Why'd I do that?" Peter slurred, batting away a brimming beaker of beer being handed to him by one of the wives.
"Because of that great lumping girl you brought here, that's why?" Tink shouted, sticking her tongue out as an added insult to the missing Wendy.
"Girl...what girl?" Peter threw his arms wide, rocking back on his heels and teetering for a second before righting himself.
"Only a great big codfish with straw for hair and huge googly wishy washy eyes that batted like dirty great butterflies every time you looked at her," Tink roared, her speech sounding like the discordant clashing of tiny bells to the Indian woman watching and listening to the exchange. Peter just grinned at the enraged fairy and blew her a kiss.
"Oh you mean Wendy...she's not a codfish...she's bootiful."
Tink suddenly realized that bringing Wendy into the conversation had been a grave misjudgment. Peter now stared off into space, his eyes unfocused as thoughts of Wendy crowded his beer muddled thoughts. As if the mere thought of his missing love was enough to sober him, Peter suddenly shook his head violently, his hands rising to hold on to each side as if he expected something to come flying out of his ears. Staggering, he groaned under his breath and bent over at the waist. Watching all this, Tink started to feel concerned for Peter, her wings beating fast as she flittered about the tepee, cursing the Indian woman for poisoning the Pan with their dreadful brew. All they saw was Peter clutching his head while the fairy buzzed around the tent and tinkled in her funny fairy voice.
"Wendy...I almost forgot about Wendy...how could I?" Peter chastised himself as he fought the effects of the beer which clouded his thoughts and made his head feel three times larger than normal. "Tink...where's Wendy?"
"I don't know...you've lost her?" Tink asked hopefully, only just missing the hand that shot out to catch her by darting upwards and out of reach.
"Dammit Tink...I have to go." Ignoring the wives who tired to prevent his going, Peter shoved through them to the entrance flap, flinging it wide before stepping out into the afternoon sun. The Chief was coming towards the tepee, Tiger Lily at his side and a crowd of Indian's on either side. Seeing Peter, Talagumpa hurried forward and enveloped Peter in a chest crushing hug, the younger man all but lost and incapable of freeing himself until the Chief chose to free him from the suffocating embrace.
"Father...father, let Peter go...he's turning blue!"
Released from the Chief's arms, Peter staggered back, his head reeling from the effects of the beer and the lack of oxygen. Tiger Lily stepped forward and put her arm about Peter's shoulders.
"Did you find Wendy?" She asked, trying to ignore her father who looked like he wanted to hug Peter again. "Was she here when you got back?"
"No...and I don't know where she is. The Lost Boys are gone too..." Peter tried to clear his mind from the fog of alcohol, his ears ringing from the cheers of the people around him, squinting up at the sun to try and gauge the time of day. "Lily I need...I need..." Peter felt hands clutching at him, several braves lifting him up to sit on a pair of wide shoulders, other hands keeping him from falling as the men carried Peter off and paraded him like a conquering hero all around the village. Children and dogs screamed and barked, jumping up and down as the triumphant procession wound away from the Chief's tent and towards a large fire built up in the middle of the village. Peter twisted around and saw Tiger Lily speaking to her father, the Chief bending down the better to hear her, his face turned to follow his people as they headed for the feast to come, with Peter in their midst. A second later Peter managed to twist around again, catching the Chief shaking his head at whatever Tiger Lily was saying, her pleas falling unheeded. The crowd reached the bonfire and the braves holding Peter up on their shoulders, lowered him to the ground where he stood hemmed in by happy faces and hands eager to touch some part of him, several leaves torn off as souvenirs making him fear that he'd soon be naked if they didn't stop soon. A wind was starting to pick up, blowing the flames of the fire every which way, the carcass hung on a spit over a bed of coals getting bits of leaves and dust blown all over it. Amid cries of alarm, the Indian women hurried about throwing thin clothes over the bowls of food standing ready, the better to protect them from the wind sending eddies of dust about the village. Slowly, the happy crowd became subdued, the Chief approaching the group surrounding Peter and waving them away. Tiger Lily followed behind, her expression solemn.
"I'm sorry Peter...I did try to make him see reason," Lily shrugged, taking a step back when her father frowned down at her.
Talagumpa raised his hands and everyone fell silent. "We are here to celebrate the safe return of our Princess, my daughter, back into the fold of the tribe. Her rescuer stands before you and we feast in his honor." He waited while the crowd clapped their approval, whistles and yelps filling the air until the Chief raised his hands again. "The Pan will be leaving us tomorrow on a great quest." Ignoring the questioning look sent his way by Peter and Tiger Lily the Chief continued. "He will be going to bring back the one he calls his Wendy – the one we have known would come to us, come to Neverland." The Indians roared again, Peter unable to make himself heard above the shouts and yelps. The Chief ignored the signals sent his way by Peter and spoke again. "Tonight we will send this brave warrior on his way with a full belly and strong medicine – he will need both is he is to be our savior once more."
Peter managed to catch Princess Tiger Lily's eye but the girl was only able to shrug and hold her hands up, having no more understanding of what her father was speaking about than Peter. Obviously there was something going on that neither were aware of, but somehow the rest of the tribe knew about. Finding himself being shepherded towards another tent, Peter dug in his heels and tried to twist out of the grasp of the braves ranged either side of him. A hand suddenly came down on his shoulder and the Chief uttered one word, "mesta."
At once Peter felt all the fight go out of him, the braves easily conveying him unresisting to the tent and inside. There he was stripped, washed, painted and dressed before being ushered outside as docile as a lamb. Not only was his body compliant but his mind as well, washed clean by the simple, yet powerful magic wielded by the Chief. As guest of honor, Peter was placed in an ornate chair, a feathered ceremonial bonnet placed on his head, the trailing ends reaching the ground on either side. On his right sat Chief Talagumpa, on his left the Princess Tiger Lily. All the people of the tribe sat ranged around a large circle, the fire at it's heart and Peter at its head. Temporarily relieved of all worry and responsibility, Peter sat like a puppet, accepting food and drink without comment or complaint while warriors and maiden's danced for his entertainment and drums filled the evening air with a throbbing rhythm that set the blood singing and the heart pounding. As the feast and the night wore on, Peter even got up and danced himself, stamping his feet and whooping as loudly as any of the braves, his body glistening with oil and sweat, paint gleaming brightly on his gold skin, while his moccasined feet raised a dust cloud with each step. Tiger Lily, prompted by her father, danced for Peter while he sat panting at the end of his dance, the Indian princess making graceful, delicate hand movements while her feet moved her around in a pattern, always bringing her closer to Peter. As the voices rose around them, Tiger Lily, caught up in the beat and pattern of the dance, ended it by throwing her arms about Peter's neck and kissing him soundly, the startled young man returning her enthusiastically until the Princess pulled back, blushing scarlet amid the cheers and whoops of her people. Hastily she returned to her place on the other side of her father, Peter sitting bemusedly in his chair, his fingers lifting to touch his lips as if in a dream. The night wore on with more drinking and dancing, the stars visible between the scudding clouds, the moon not yet risen. The Chief finally clapped his hands to signal the end of the feast when Peter toppled out of his chair, face first into the dirt. Two braves picked up the insensible Pan and carried him to a tent nearby, dumping him on a pallet of furs after divesting him of his feathered war bonnet. Tink watched the men leave then fluttered down and sat on the pillow beside Peter's head. Catching a whiff of beery breath, the fairy screwed up her face, wafting her hand up and down and making rude noises about boys who can't handle their beer, before fluttering off to find a bed for the night. The village settled down quickly, the fires quenched, and guards placed until only the sound of snoring filled the air. Those left on guard heard the distance howl of a wolf, the mournful sound soon taken up by other voices, the cries filling the night before suddenly stopping, leaving the listeners whispering between each other and wondering just how far away the wolf pack was.
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While Peter submitted to being feted by the Indians, Wendy was experiencing something similar in a cave that almost defied description. She and Jack had reached the yawning mouth of the cave just as the skies opened and rain poured down from the clouds that had been gathering all afternoon. Jack had thought to himself it had been an indication that Peter was hot on their trail, but now it seemed it was not the Pan at all. A flash of lightning chivvied them across the rocky floor and towards the back of the wide cavern, the flashes of lightning revealing no obstacles to hinder their mad dash from the downpour outside.
Wendy had turned and was watching the cascade of water creating a curtain across the mouth of the opening, her eyes wide as the sheer fury of the storm outside. The air was becoming chill and she rubbed her arms to chase away the goose flesh, her teeth clenched to prevent them chattering. Jack was more interested in the cave itself than the weather outside, his eyes narrowed as he tried to pierce the gloom between the flashes of light.
"This is supposed to be the cave of dreams?" He muttered to himself, staring at the high ceiling then the back of the cave, sure that he'd seen something after the last flash. A bright slice of light washed the interior, illuminating everything for a brief second, and Jack drew in a gasp, sure that he'd seen movement among the rocks. Suddenly a light flared into existence, a torch held in a sconce against the rock wall, the flame leaping as first one then another further along burst into light. Wendy let out a small shriek when a torch flared into life near to where she stood, the invisible torch lighter setting those on the opposite wall burning once all were lit down one side. Soon Jack and Wendy were standing in a cave so brightly lit that is seemed they stood inside a fire itself, their multiple shadows dancing madly on the floor and walls like so many fire sprites.
"J-Jack?"
"Nothing to do with me..."
"Then who...?"
"Maybe I can answer that," a voice, deep and mellifluous, drifted from the back of the cave, the two young people turning to face the man walking with stately grace towards them. He looked familiar despite being dressed in a flowing robe dyed in a multitude of colors like a discordant rainbow.
"Chief Talagumpa?" Jack queried, his voice carrying a world of disbelief even as he spoke.
"Is that...Tiger Lily's father?" Wendy asked, mesmerized by the man's measured approach. "How did you get here?"
The man came to a halt several feet from his visitors, his face studiously bland as he regarded them, his shadowed eyes missing nothing as they stared unblinkingly as the pair before him. In one hand he held a tall staff, the wooden surface heavily carved and ornamented with stones that caught the light, twinkling like stars.
"You are Black Jack, are you not?" The man asked, his dark eyes coming to rest on the young pirate.
"I am...who are you?" Jack had already guessed that the Indian before them was not Chief Talagumpa, despite a remarkable likeness to the man. "Are you his brother or twin?" Jack persisted, taking a step forward. The man lifted his chin a notch and stared at Jack down his patrician nose.
"Stupa,"
Jack found he couldn't utter a word, his hands reaching for his own throat as he tried to make a sound come out of his mouth. With eyes wide, he opened and shut his mouth, no sound coming from him despite his best efforts. His fear and amazement turning quickly to rage, Jack launched himself at the man with his hands outstretched like claws.
"Bindum," said the man, his free hand performing a single gesture towards Jack, rendering the young man immobile in mid air, frozen with his feet off the ground and his hands still outstretched.
Wendy watched it all with her heart drumming loudly in her chest. The Indian man looked like the Chief, it was true, a startling likeness indeed, but it was obvious that he wasn't who he looked like, his clothes quite unlike what the Tribe wore. What he had done to Jack filled her with a dread that threatened to rob her of her senses, the torches along the wall starting to bob and weave erratically. Suddenly she was no longer on her feet but laying down, a soft couch at her back and the roar of the storm gone. Sitting up, Wendy swung her legs off the pallet and looked around. She was still in the cavernous mouth of the cave, but water no longer sheeted down outside, the entrance black and huge with only a few puddles to indicate the presence of the waterfall it had been before. Torches still burned along the walls, but fewer than before and there was no sign of either Jack or the Indian man. Leaving her comfortable couch with some reluctance, Wendy padded across the stone floor, her eyes darting in all directions for some indication of where her companions had gone. A glance upwards made her stop in her tracks, her mouth falling open as she stared at the paintings adorning the roof of the cave. The flickering blaze of the torches revealed a richly painted ceiling, the colors amazingly bright and glowing, the figures of animals and people rendered almost lifelike as they danced across the rocky surface, the variety of creatures both mythical and real quite astounding.
Slowly she made her way further and further into the cave, the images almost leading her onwards, the torches behind her extinguishing themselves as she progressed inward. Despite all the frightening and wonderful things she'd seen, Wendy felt little fear, the sheer beauty of the painted ceiling dispelling any fear of the artist who had created such a wonder. A sound made her pause, the far distant mournful howl of a wolf, soon joined by others, caused the hair on her arms to stand up. While the wolves howled, Wendy stood still, listening to the eerie sound until it died away and all was silent again. Ahead of her more torches flared into life, leading her ever onwards, deeper and deeper into the hillside, the paintings starting to extend to the walls, the figures dancing alongside her, encouraging her onwards.
Guided only by her own feeling that this was where she needed to be, Wendy walked forward, a new sound drawing her onward, the distant sound of music so unearthly it made her want to run towards it, just to find out what was making so sweet a melody.
Behind her, the torches that had put themselves out melted once more back into the rock walls. Her footsteps in the dirt and dust of the cave floor quickly swept away so that there was nothing to mark Wendy's passage through the cave, the cavern left unmarked by any evidence that a human form had ever entered or passed through. Even the painted ceiling was no more, the bright images once more turned to stone and rock, their form lost in the shadows and striations of the marble surface.
Wendy had entered the cave of dreams.
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to be continued...
