Peter Pan Chapter 11: Something Wicked This Way Comes

There came a point as I sat there in the swamp that I realized I had stayed there long enough, wallowing in my own grief. So, clapping my hands onto my thighs, I got up. Brushing off any dirt and grass that clung to me, I noticed a light sheen on my arms.

"Ugggg, I'm all sweaty. How nasty," I said.

The swamp was muggy and when I sat down, I guess the heavy mist caused me to perspire. While walking I was too distracted to notice the wet spots on my shift. Before I walked on, something caught my attention. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw what appeared to be a horse. A black horse it was, with flowing mane and tail. Its face had the perfect structure to that of a Fresian; the muzzle slightly Roman, the thick neck finely arched like a carousel horse. The broad muscles of its chest and rump were truly impressive. Long legs feathered into sturdy hooves which rested evenly atop the slimy mud bank. Normally, because I was getting better at detecting this thing, a horse as robust as this would've sunk into the soft ground at least to its fetlocks. But this horse stood as if on dry land.

I felt my heart race. I knew what type of fae I had encountered; a kelpie. To explain, a kelpie is a Scottish water faerie associated with the malevolent Unseelie Court, despite it often being considered solitary. When I first found out about the kelpie, I had read that the solitary fae were thought to be more dangerous.

Anyway, according to legend, the kelpie would appear before unsuspecting travelers or civilians (like children) and lure them to touch it. Once human skin made contact, the mortal was then "glued" to the evil fae. The kelpie then dragged the poor human to the depths of the marsh and devoured it leaving only the liver and sometimes the heart. It was one fae you wanted to avoid. It was a flesh eating monster disguised as a beautiful steed. It happened to be my favorite type of faerie.

Its haunting milky eyes fixed their blind stare on me and slowly came over. I watched in morbid fascination and slight fear as it vanished beneath the dark waters only to re-emerge mere feet away from me. Effortlessly, the great equine hoisted itself from the swamp. Long tendrils of marsh plants hung from the thick mane and tail. Now that it was near, I saw that it was male and that he stood close to, if not exactly, 19hh. That, in case you are unfamiliar with horse measurements, is huge. Larger even than a Clydesdale or Shire. Its head was as long as my torso. The pink nostrils flared as it released the raspberry snort heard from horses. It smelled of horse, that musky-lemony scent that makes horse riders smile. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to throw a bridle on him and race away back home. Or screw the bridle, ride him bare-back with no reigns. Just take the rippling mane in my hands and ride him wherever I wanted.

I knew I should've been more afraid, but in a weird way, I wasn't. The kelpie took a stride, then another and another until it was close enough to breathe on me. His black coat was as shiny as a sea's hide. I wanted to feel its silkiness. The kelpie spoke not a word but urged me to touch it.

Now it was at this point that I did the very stupid, stereotypical air-headed move…I reached out to stroke his neck. But! Before I could, a pair of rough hands grabbed me from behind and wrenched me backwards.

"I knew it had to be you!" Peter then spit at the kelpie's feet.

The water horse saw the insulting gesture done by Peter and snarled. Baring its wolf-like teeth the kelpie flattened its ears.

"Dare tú ag teacht idir mé féin agus mo cairéil? Beidh mé ag cuimilt tú amach Paedhar!" (You dare come between me and my quarry? I shall tear you apart Peter!)

Peter flashed his own tiny incisors and shoved me to the side. I stumbled in the mud. The emerald green of Peter's eyes had darkened along with the shadows of his face.

"Beidh mé ag ithe di! Tá sí difriúil, láidir. Tá sé go leor aoiseanna ó bholaíos ciúine mé anuas an chumhacht sin i daonna. " (I will eat her! She is different, strong. It has been many ages since I last smelled such power in a human.) The kelpie's voice held a demonic echo.

What a wicked tenure! I backed away. I nearly fell when my feet collided with a mass of dead tree vines. They were long and about three inches in diameter. I kicked the heavy pile in a fluster. The kelpie heard my kick and growled in my direction.

"Do not strike my marsh! Or I shall ensure you die most painfully!" The white orbs stared from within its coal black face.

"Ah, Peter, aren't you going to do something?" I screamed.

"Like~?" Came his irritating reply.

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" I said

"I doubt you can do physical magic."

I glared at him. "No you idiot! The kelpie wants to eat me. Are you gonna just stand there and let him?"

"Hey, I only promised to find you, not protect you." Peter chided.

My angry retort had to wait as the kelpie took the opportunity to charge. The red-headed imp quickly defended himself. The kelpie bit and kicked, Peter narrowly escaping the blows.

Peter floated in the air, skirting the cantankerous water horse. He showed no real interest or intention to fight back. In fact, he looked bored. This clearly pissed off the kelpie for he reared to his full height and lunged his powerful neck to bite. Peter must not have considered the kelpie to stretch that far because the elongated teeth snatched Peter's shirt.

"Diabhal go beithíoch!" (Lit trans: damn cattle. Peter is deliberately insulting the water horse by calling it a beast."

Peter wrestled in the air. The kelpie chuckled in its demonic hollow and swung its great jaws side to side. Peter tried to tear off his shirt but the force and speed with which he was being flung caused his hands to slip.

"Mallacht tú féin agus do chineál wrteched chun ifreann!" (Curse you and your wretched kind to hell!) Peter yelled.

The kelpie snorted and backed up into the swamp.

"Droch-Peadhar, beidh mé leat a tharraingt ar an doimhneacht de ifreann liom," (Poor Peter, I'll drag you to the depths of hell with me.)

I had to do something! Peter was an ass at times but he did not deserve to be eaten alive. So, reaching to grab a dead vine I quickly tied it into a make-shift lasso. (I was bored one night so I looked it up on ). I figured, if I distracted the water horse, Peter could get away. Then we could get the hell outta here. I held onto the long vine lasso and ran towards them. The kelpie's back legs were up to their hocks in water. I began to yell and taunt the horse. Much to my surprise he ignored me. Desperate, I spun the lasso above my head. Peter saw what I was doing and barked:

"Are you insane!? Don't do it!"

Spinning the lasso faster, I had the loop going in large whooshing circles. I was getting into the whole lasso thing. My body was rocken, my talk was trashy. The kelpie finally noticed me and flared his nostrils. With the kelpie now fixed on me, Peter gave his shirt a yank. The fabric tore away from the clenched teeth, sending Peter in the air and flinging the water horse's head back. Head reeling from the kickback, the kelpie pivoted in the swamp to run me down. Peter tried to stop me but it was too late. I threw the lasso. Peter went ballistic.

"No! What have you done!? You stupid girl!"

I grinned as the lasso landed squarely around the kelpie's neck. As if pulled from behind like a calf in a rodeo, the water horse dug its back hooves into the muddy earth and unleashed a sound I had never heard before in my life. Now, the sounds of the fae are not of our world so the best I can describe it as would be a mixture of a bear, hawk, and a frightened horse.

Like mad the kelpie reared and bucked, its weight sending little shockwaves in the mud. My grin disappeared and I became confused. I looked to Peter who was frowning darkly at me. The pinprick emeralds trembled.

"Diabhal thú! Tá tú créatúr íseal! Níl a fhios agat mo fearg! Beidh mé do cheann le haghaidh é seo!" (Damn you! You lowly creature! You do not know my wrath/anger! I will have your head for this!) The kelpie shrieked.

I could not understand his language but I knew what he said.

"Peter I know you're royally pissed off at me right now, but what's his problem?"

The imp said in a low, agitated voice:

"With your knowledge of our race you are oblivious to this? You are unaware of the Curse of the Kelpie?"

"Curse? What curse?" I asked now nervous.

"When a kelpie has been ensnared by a harness of any make, it is to then serve the owner of that bind for eternity. Unless the owner removes the harness, the kelpie will never be free. That is their curse upon themselves. The Mallacht de na Kelpie."

My eyes darted from Peter to the inconsolable kelpie. The water horse snapped and pawed at the vine. Its milky eyes bulging.

"Now I'm stuck with you, and now a kelpie." Peter grumbled crossing his legs and sitting on an invisible cushion.

The kelpie then halted. The sudden stop startled me and I looked at him.

Panting, his great sides heaving, the water horse said in that horrid timber, "Ba mhaith liom a fhiach tú síos don chuid eile de do shaol an duine olc, ba chóir duit a scaoileadh riamh dom." (I would hunt you down for the remainder of your miserable life human, should you ever release me.)

I knew by the way he eyed me that he said something about me dying. So, I narrowed my eyes and straightened my aching back. I grasped the vine in my hand firmly and took steps closer to him.

Peter watched fuming. I stood before the kelpie. His muzzle was damp and his forelock was separated into tangled strands. Taking the risk that he might bite me, I touched him on the nose. The little hairs were like velvet under my fingers, and the skin was buttery soft. To my surprise again, my hand did not stick.

"Another part of the curse. The master is immune to the kelpie's adhesive effects." Peter blurted above.

"Nach bhfuil sí mo mháistir! Tá mé aon níos fearr!" (She is not my master! I have no superior!) The kelpie growled at the flying imp.

"Well, you do now." Peter said matter of fact.

"What did he say?" I asked concerned.

"He's pissed because you're his master now."

I blanched. Master? I'm something's master? That made me feel all kinds of weird. I didn't want to be this creature's master. That just sounded so wrong to me. But I couldn't let him go, he'd kill me. I was stuck. I tried to be as cordial as I could.

"So…new topic, what can I call you? I can't call you kelpie forever."

"I will never reveal my name to you. You are unable to properly pronounce it no doubt. I will not have my name shamed by your mouth." The kelpie grunted.

I swallowed. "Fair enough. Can I give you a name then?"

The kelpie flicked his ears. The tension was still palpable but now he seemed curious.

"You name me? Preposterous mortal. So presumptuous too!"

"Don't I know it," Peter chimed in a very "bro-code" fashion.

I ignored Peter. I wanted to smooth over this mess with the kelpie. I thought for a moment and then I offered:

"What about Rossel?"

The kelpie's white eyes frowned. "Rossel?"

"It's the old Scottish form of Russell. I don't know. I heard it before and I thought it sounded cool. And you look like a Rossel."

For a while, the kelpie was quiet.

"Why should I accept a name chosen by a mere human?" He asked, his chilly voice low.

I resisted the goose bumps rising on my arms and responded truthfully.

"Well, I'm not sure. You don't have to. I'm not forcing you."

The water horse let out a chuckle which did not seem right coming from him.

"Little human, no one forces me to do anything. You may wield this rope about me, but I am not going to concede so easily."

Well, I thought, he didn't say 'no I don't like it.' So, from then on in my mind, I called him Rossel.

"I hope you don't concede. I find your species of fae interesting. To think you might readily listen to me would be very boring indeed." I said.

Peter raised a brow. "I can't believe it. You sounded like an adult. And an adult of the world of Fae."

"Shut up."

I'll never become part of this world Neverland, Avalach or whatever. I was determined to find my way home. I just kept getting sidetracked, as if the land wanted me to stay.

Peter came down and landed gracefully beside me. At once the kelpie's throat rumbled. Peter stuck out his tongue.

"Easy patsy. Protective of your master much?"

This sent Rossel into a tizzy. "Leanbh insolent! Ní féidir liom a bheith in ann a bhaint amach ar an cailín ach go bhfuil tú cluiche cothrom. Ná déan dearmad go raibh mé beagnach tú aon uair amháin." (Insolent child! I may not be able to strike the girl but you are fair game. Do not forget that I almost had you once.)

Peter glared at the horse. I stomped my foot on the mud. "Stop it! Peter enough. And you, I don't know what you're saying but I know it's just as nasty so stop."

Rossel tossed his great head and turned away. Peter spat again on the ground.

"Bastard. Tether him to a tree. I'm not having the Lost Boys fix him anything."

"I'm not leaving him outside."

"He lives in a damn swamp. That is outside."

"You won't be the bigger man and help me with him?" I sighed frustrated.

"Absolutely not. You made this mistake. Why should I pay for it?"

I grit my teeth. "If you'll be a belligerent prick about this then I'll just ask Finvarra. I'm sure he'd help me."

Peter's face sharpened. His pupils shrunk to black dots in seas of green.

"Ask that cur and I'll have you live in the wilderness as well."

By now, Peter's swiftly changing, inhuman expressions were becoming normal for me. I no longer really feared those icy looks. I was beginning to form my own.

"I already live in the wilderness in the hut you call a hideout. Keep treating me like this Peter and I'll see to it that Queen Mab wins your bet."

The kelpie laughed. "Queen Mab? You made a deal with that old bitch? You've fallen low imp."

I saw Peter silently boiling. His hands were tight balls.

"Did Hook finally tire of you? You have to seek thrills elsewhere?" Rossel continued.

With that, Peter took to the sky and hovered hundreds of feet above us.

"I'm leaving. You found your way into this quagmire, now find yourself out. I'll inform Tibbs you're safe."

I watched as Peter flew away. The fact that he left me made me so angry I couldn't see straight.

"Great just great! How the hell am I going to get back?" I gesticulated.

Rossel was quiet and he turned in the direction Peter went.

"Come you dolt. This way is his yes?"

I followed, holding onto the vine as a lead-rope. "I guess. Why are you going though?"

"I hate Paedhar. I know not a fae who doesn't. But I will be damned if he thinks I'll back away like some spineless pixie. You evidently are unsure of how to return, so I shall lead us."

I quietly followed Rossel out of his swamp and my heart sank a bit when he gazed back at its foggy shroud.

"I'm sorry you're leaving your home," I said responsible for his departure.

The water horse breathed heavily and continued to stride through the thick expanse of marshland. I felt the tension vibrate off of him as I plodded along beside his large flank. The air between us was so awkward that I spent most of the journey staring at the ground, watching it change from muck to solid trails. The air lightened and the trees were less menacing. I glanced over at Rossel and marveled at how out of place he looked with his pitch black coloring and ghoulish eyes. As we walked, grass and flowers and undergrowth seemed to wilt away from him, trying to avoid the brush of his legs.

How did he feel leaving a home where he was accepted and be going to a new, strange one where he was the outsider. Did the tall cattails shy from his presence? What about the frogs and water snakes? No, they bent and went towards him. But the large oaks and full shrubs shunned the water horse like a plague. Smaller fae stopped their songs and poetry, animals scurried back into their holes, leaves stopped their rustling. The heavy blanket of unwelcome covered us, nearly bending my back. Rossel remained unfazed. I wondered if he did so to save face, this powerful and dreadful kelpie being tied to a mortal girl. Or if he truly did not care what the other flora, fauna, and fae thought. In a way, I knew what he must be going through.

A curious air faerie came close, so close that if she were to reach out her tiny foot she would've stood atop his back. I knew what she wanted, and Rossel knew as well. She wanted to touch this thing. She probably thought, he can't be that bad if he's with a human. I saw her back bend, the inquisitive stare. The little hand went for his black coat. With ears still forward, Rossel lifted his long tail and swooshed it around, sending the air faerie flying in the other direction. I heard her bell-like scream as it faded away. In a way I was angry that he did it, but I was also amused. I could not count how many times I wished I could've pushed annoying people away from me, but did not for conformities sake.

"Why did you do that!?" I whispered trying to hide my cracking grin.

"I will not be touched by those I find disgusting."

Fair enough, I thought.

By the time we reached the hideout, I was spent. My feet killed and I desperately needed water. The shift I wore clung to me from all of the sweat and grime. Stains tattooed my legs and skirt in a mosaic of green and army brown. Rossel, despite having the coat of a wet seal, was spotless. Any muck or dried mud had fallen away during our walk. He stopped upon seeing the hideout. I came up beside him and found the place quiet. No one was around. Peter was nowhere to be found and neither were the Lost Boys. I sighed thinking that Peter told the Boys everything and, siding with their "Father" had left me to deal with the kelpie alone.

Taking Rossel by the vine, I gave a tiny tug. Rossel's ears went back but he followed regardless. I led him around the hideout trying to figure out where I should put him. Ugg, I hate saying that. You put a regular horse in a barn, where do you put a supernatural horse that can speak and display human emotion?

Rossel knew I was dawdling and let out unnerving grumbling sounds. I made a distressted face, thankful that my back was to him. I came around to the back of Peter's hideout and almost cried from what I saw. There before me was a fenced off section of land together with a small stable. There was a gate with a latch and I gently motioned for Rossel to follow. I brought Rossel into the paddock. I went into the stable to find a smart leather halter resting on a post. I took the hater and went over to the water horse. Rossel saw the object n my hand and bared his teeth.

"Let me put this on you. It's better than that vine around your neck." I said careful not to aggravate him.

"This vine is of my marsh."

His voice was threatening but scared. He was afraid to lose the one thing he had of his home. I thought on it. Then I said:

"What if I tied the vine around the halter?"

"No."

"I think the leather would look better on you."

He hissed at me, "Stupid girl. You don't understand. This vine is now a part of me."

He turned his great neck and I saw that the lasso had fixed itself to his skin. I gasped.

"What is this?"

A voice came from behind me. "When a kelpie is caught, the owner may remove the restraint…but there is a catch."

I spun and saw Peter. He had changed his shirt from the grungy thing I first saw him wear in my house, to a more finely tailored shirt. It was stitched with thick thread and the pine green color accentuated him perfectly. I didn't bother asking him where he had come from or if the Boys were with him. So I kept the conversation to the point.

"What do you mean? Explain."

Peter came over but kept his distance as Rossel snarled.

"The lasso you set on him has melded to his flesh. Another perk to the curse. The master, in order to remove the bind, has to literally cut the bind from the flesh. You won't be able to free him without mutilation."

A satisfied smirk flashed at Rossel who extended his neck to snap. Peter jumped back and clucked his tongue.

"Close."

I stared blankly at the floor. "So…what do I do? Why give me the halter if it requires something so brutal?"

Peter shrugged. "I was hoping for entertainment…but I see that by telling you I've jerked myself outta that treat."

I gave Peter one of the coldest stares. " Sometimes you can be such a despicable thing."

I knew Peter glowered at me but I didn't care. I turned my attention back to Rossel. Taking the vine I wrapped the left over length around his neck. To my surprise, the vine completely merged to his body. It acted like a slightly raised marking; it looked like a collar.

"Does it hurt?" I asked.

"No."

Rossel tossed his head, his mane covering the vine. Almost tiredly, he waked into the stable.

"I do not need your concern."

After Peter and I left Rossel to his devices, I whirled on Peter. I struck him in the face, a spontaneous act that earned a look of disbelief.

"Don't you ever speak in the unimaginable way you did back there again." With that, I walked on alone.

I felt justified in hitting him. He left me in the swamp, he took me from home, he made a bet about me. I knew the Lost Boys were the ones who built the Barn and fence. Peter would die before he lifted a finger to help with anything. Especially if it were to help somebody else. I entered the hideout dodging the curious voices of Tibbs, Tootles, and the other Boys. I was in no state to chat or tell stories. Locking myself in Peter's room I changed into a clean shift and buried my head under the pillows.