Wow...I feel really bad about the delay with this chapter. It's been sorta finished for a while, meaning I've been editing it repeatedly and now I'm forcing myself to post it before I edit it again. So...after all of that revision, I REALLY hope you all enjoy it!!!! And thank you soooo much for the great reviews, as they really keep me happy and motivated. I'll update again ASAP. One other thing, please go back and re-read certain parts of chapter seven, as I took into account what one or more reviews said and I changed it a little...and by a little, I mean subtle changes that have affected a good portion of the plot. I basically changed the part with the cannon balls and then when Rebecca and Peter are talking while they run to the hideout. Okay, so here goes...
Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan, Tinker Bell, or any of the original story. I do own Rebecca and anyone/thing else you don't recognize.
Chapter Eleven: Sword Duels
The next morning, I groggily forced my eyes open as someone gently shook my shoulders. I groaned, trying to pull free and roll over to go back to sleep.
"Rebecca. It's morning, and we've got a duel ahead of us," a soft masculine voice said.
"Mm, later, Peter. Me sleep now," I mumbled, attempting again to twist out of his grasp and return to the world of dreams.
"Come on. Don't make me pour water on you," he said.
"You wouldn't do that. You're too nice," I replied, not giving a second thought to his threat.
"Oh really?" he challenged. I was too sleepy to pay the challenge in his voice any mind, and I felt myself being released. In an instant, I twisted over and was asleep, dreaming of my fencing class back at college and somehow defeating my coach-slash-teacher-slash friend, Joe, who had been an Olympic fencer. Beat him? Yeah, right! In my dreams!
All of a sudden, I felt my head and upper torso being drenched in freezing water. I screeched and leapt to my feet. The culprit, Peter, stood in front of me, a wooden bucket in hand, and a naughty smile on his face. "Do I recall you saying that I'm too nice?" he asked obnoxiously.
"PETER!" I screamed, lunging at him in an attempt to pounce on him. He lifted himself into the air and I fell forward, landing on my hands and knees. I growled.
"Come on," he said, giving me a hand up. "Save the lunging for the duel."
"You are not the boss of me, Peter Pan," I said petulantly.
"Around here I am. I'm the captain, remember? What I say goes," he replied simply. I groaned, shaking water out of my hair and on to him. "Hey!" he laughed, backing away.
"Now I need to change. Thanks for drenching me first thing in the morning," I said, shivering. He grinned wickedly and wiped some water droplets off of his forehead.
"Touché. Come on. We've got to get you a sword." With that he rushed behind the curtain to his room and I glimpsed a pile of swords inside before the curtain flapped shut again. "I like fighting with a dagger. But the other boys sometimes use swords, and they store them in my room. So, let me see what I can find for you." While I stood there in the dim light that was sneaking in through the various tunnels, I heard steel clanking against steel, and then he re-appeared holding a couple of swords. He held them up to me for size and chose one that came up a little past my waist. I took it and held it out in front of me. The steel blade was scratched, but still shiny, and the hilt was wrapped in a vine, perhaps for grip. Between the blade and hilt was a gray hilt, filled with moss to make it softer. I felt the blade, drawing some blood from my finger in the process.
"Owe!" I gasped, feeling foolish as red salty liquid plumed upon my skin.
"Oh, careful there, she's a sharp one. They all are," Peter warned. I heard a laugh behind me and I turned around to face the room. I was surprised to find the Lost Boys waiting for us. They were lined up and waiting quietly, Braith chuckling under her breath at my folly with the sword. Peter gave them a nod of his head and they all cried out and scattered up their holes. Braith was the only one who was not being very enthusiastic. She just walked up to her tunnel and began to wriggle upwards, frowning. I snatched up my bag, which I had deposited near my makeshift bed, and dumped its contents onto the floor. I half-slipped my feet into a pair of sandals and followed Peter, wriggling up his tunnel after him. He had already taken to the air when I reached the top, and I struggled out in the last few seconds before the mushroom closed off the hole.
After pausing and hopping to pull the backs of my sandals over my heels, I leaped into the air, and then fell as I was not completely comfortable flying yet. Once I had successfully skinned both knees in my landing, I tried again, flapping my arms awkwardly, as my right hand held the sword. Several seconds later I had managed to succeed, but by the time I was above the treetops, Peter was far ahead of me and dropped into the trees again. I tried to follow him, but the forest was so dense that I had very little idea of where he had gone. As I searched, peering as far as I could into the forest, I could hear a cry of excitement from the Lost Boys underneath me as they ran through the foliage. I was about to descend to join them in running to wherever we were going when a sudden arrow shot through the trees, headed straight for me.
I gasped in terror, curling up into a ball to shield myself, but I was not hit because I fell right out of the sky, my happy thoughts extinguished. Before I knew what was happening, I had crashed through the top tree branches and was headed for the ground. I tensed up in preparation for a crash landing, thinking, 'This is gonna hurt.' I watched the ground momentarily and then quickly squeezed my eyes shut as it came up to meet me…and suddenly I smashed upon someone who yelped and fell under me. My eyes opened and there was a blurred whirl of tumbling amongst pain signaling the birth of new bruises.
When at last the someone and I came to a halt, I blinked and slowly uncovered my head to find none other than Braith, lying under me and moaning softly. Then I noticed a long, smoothed wooden rod under her shoulder with a twine string trailing from its tip. Braith looked at me and as she began to focus her eyes widened. I was shoved off as she scrambled to her feet. I sat there, bruised but okay, looking up at her and getting a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. We were both silent as we recovered our thoughts. I looked down at my still wet white t-shirt, now stained brown from the dirt it had collected during the tumble. Although it was silly, I instantly tried to brush it off, gave up, and then looked up to watch Braith stoop to pick up her rod. She groaned in frustration as she fiddled with the string…wait, there were strings on both ends of the rod, and their tips were tattered. 'A bow,' I realized. That's when I spotted the scattered arrows lying behind her, their quiver lying astray and empty. Yes, she had done it, and she knew that I knew. There was nothing to be said. We both looked behind me as Peter emerged out of the greenery, calling us.
"There you are!" he said with a smile. Neither of us returned the smile; instead, we simultaneously looked at the ground. Even if we hadn't done that, a person would've had to be really stupid not to feel the tension between us. Peter stopped in his tracks and looked from me to Braith and back to me. "What happened here?" he asked, taking on a serious tone. I didn't answer and neither did Braith. "Rebecca? Braith?" Peter kept looking from one of us to the other. "Someone want to tell me what's going on?" I felt Braith's eyes pressuring me. She was waiting for me to speak, to tell Peter what she had attempted to do. 'I am no coward, Braith. You have crossed a line. If this is how you want it to be, so be it,' I thought with conviction, and turned to Peter.
"Nothing's going on, Peter. I only fell is all," I said.
"Out of the sky?" he asked, instantly concerned.
"Yeah, but I'm fine." 'At least that part is true…physically,' I thought. "J-just some bruises. Honest."
"How'd that happen?" he pressed.
"Um, I don't know. I…guess I just lost my concentration on flying." Peter looked very confused as he pushed one eyebrow down and cocked the other one into an upward arch. He seemed to be trying to decide how someone lost 'concentration on flying,' when all that's needed is a happy thought once you have the faith, trust, and pixie dust.
"What about Braith?" he asked, turning his eyes to her. She opened her mouth, but didn't speak. Her eyes said everything: panic. She knew what consequences could come her way should Peter find out the whole truth.
"She broke my fall. I sorta landed on her," I explained. Peter was quiet for a moment, but he soon lifted his eyebrows and smiled.
"Nicely done, Braith. You may have saved her life," Peter said, patting her shoulder. I shivered with anger, watching her face go blank and then smile back at him. A large smile. "You oughtta thank her, Rebecca," Peter pointed out to me.
"THANK HER?! Peter, she just tried to kill me. She shot one of her arrows, aimed at me, and it missed me because I lost my happy thoughts and fell. I landed on her by chance. But, for goodness sake, she nearly murdered me!" I was on my feet, screaming in fury, and Peter's face was churning with emotion, from complete shock and disbelief to rage. Braith was getting red in the face, tensing up in preparation for Peter's reaction, and staring at her feet to avoid his gaze. He slowly turned to her and if looks could kill…
Okay, that's what I imagined happening. In actuality it was all I could do to keep from exploding at him with the truth, but by some means I maintained my composure.
"Thank you, Braith, for saving my life," I managed to say without faltering, sounding sincere enough even to my own ears. I pressed my lips together in a forced 'thankful' grin, feeling the tension escalate. I wondered how Peter could be so oblivious to the newly rising tension, or maybe Braith and I were just that good at acting. Braith smiled at me now, and said, "You're very welcome," sweet as could be, causing me to be sick to my stomach. I clenched my jaw and tightened my abdomen and toes (for some reason, tightening my toes always seemed to help a sick stomach). This was all in an effort to keep myself under control, because if I hadn't known any better, I would have sworn she had actually meant that I was 'welcome'.
"Well, come on then! We've got a duel ahead of us!" Peter said energetically, cutting into my thoughts. He took Braith's hand and turned to leave. Braith and I looked at their entwined hands, and then we shared another look and she smiled at me, doing her eyebrow thing again, before completely giving herself over to running after Peter. I slowly got to my feet, grimacing as pain erupted all along my right side, which had gotten the brunt of the crash with Braith. I finally noticed my sword, nearly upright with the blade in the ground. I thought for a moment, but I couldn't recall when I had dropped it. Shrugging, I grabbed the hilt and yanked it free. Biting down against the pain, I ran after Peter and Braith in a limp and shortly thereafter, we emerged from the dark greenery into the sun again. A large clearing sprawled out in front of us.
I recognized it as the same clearing in which Indians had ambushed John, Michael, and the Lost Boys in the Disney movie. Even the footprints from an Indian were still there, large and brown from dirty feet in the white sand. Peter was air-born and he skimmed upon the ground with Braith trotting in close pursuit; I thumped on to it after her. Soon the Lost Boys startled me by darting out of the woods and surrounding us. Peter and Braith didn't seem startled in the least by this; I supposed that they were used to it, but I jumped a bit with a yelp and then air hissed through my teeth; my side was smarting again. Everyone laughed at my reaction, causing me to blush and focus on the ground. This day was not exactly going my way yet.
"Peter, I didn't know we were giving them a show," I finally mumbled.
"Oh, they love watching me sword fight. Everyone does!" he told me. I shrugged. I never really minded audiences anyway, until now. I mean, come on, here was I, in pain, and about to get my rump kicked by Peter Pan in a sword duel…not really something I wanted everyone to see. "Rebecca, you said you've had some fencing experience. How much?" Peter asked me as he tossed his dagger and caught it absentmindedly, taking me away from my pessimistic thoughts. Actually, my pulse was rising and I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate. Panic was setting in with the question of how the bloody heck I was going to do this! He sheathed it again and looked at me, waiting for an answer.
"About a semester's worth," I replied. Peter gave me an odd look; he obviously had no idea what a semester was, so I gave him a different answer. "Well, I know how to salute the opponent properly, and I know a few things about parries, lunges, attacks, retreating, and advancing," I barely told him before he spoke again, not wanting to hear my long list.
"Well, let's see just how good you are," he said smiling, and drew his dagger. My arms chose to tense up on me and my mind raced. 'What am I thinking?! About to enter a sword duel with PETER PAN!' I thought, wetting my lips as I watched that shiny dagger of his. I did have the huge plus of having a sword, but it was hardly an advantage against this particularly skilled opponent, and me with my mere semester's training.
"Peter…uh…I…shouldn't we warm up first?" I shakily suggested, trying to stall.
"Warm up? I'm plenty warm," he said, confused.
"No…warm up as in do exercises to ready our bodies physically for combat," I explained, a little desperately.
"Nah, I don't want to do that. Takes too long."
"But, Peter…warming up is important in a sport…and-"
"You're stalling, Rebecca," he accused. 'Darn it! He caught me!' I mentally yelled at myself. 'But, really, stalling or not, warming up is important,' I reminded myself. I was about to tell him that…only he spoke first. "Hey, if you don't want to do this…" he trailed off. I nearly accepted the offer, until he said, "…that is, if you're too…" he paused for a dramatic affect, "…scared?" He said it like a statement and a question at the same time, a mocking look on his face. As if that wasn't embarrassing enough, Braith snickered and rolled her eyes, muttering, "She's probably afraid of breaking a nail," just as I was about to yell at Peter. I studied the nails on my left hand for a second, raising an eyebrow at their grimy peeled condition, seeing as how I picked at them so much. 'Scared of breaking these beautiful nails of mine, huh,' I thought sarcastically. With that, I hardened my mouth determinedly, and looked sharply at Braith and then back at Peter, staring him straight in the eyes.
"Me? Scared? You're kidding, right? Are we flying at the same time, Peter Pan?" I asked in an obnoxious manner, trying to hide my nervousness. Scared? Maybe a little…sorta…kinda? Peter grinned like a devil.
"If you wish it," he whispered. Still trying to hold that semi-obnoxious confident manner, I answered.
"Eh…I don't wish it…quite yet. I'm still just a beginner."
"So mote it be," Peter said, and I got a grip on my sword in my right hand and then stood with my feet in the perpendicular starting position, heel to heel, to salute my opponent. I started with my weapon in a diagonal, pointing at the ground. Then I raised my sword with my right arm and pointed it straight out in front me, with my left arm held down at my side. I brought the sword up so that my right arm was bent in a right angle and the hilt was in front of my nose. Next, I straightened my arm in front of me again, and then I gave it a mighty swish up to my left and then down to my right, the finish to a proper salute. However, I must admit that I was thrown off balance when I did this, for I was used to dueling with foils, which have very pliant blades. This was an actual sword. It was heavier and did not bend as much in the blade, so I stumbled a little. Peter laughed. He had done a much better salute than I had, surprise, surprise.
"It's been a while since I've saluted an opponent. Hook was never respectful like that," Peter commented. I answered with an, "Mm," stood tall again, and took the on guard position, softly saying, "On guard," in as threatening a manner as I could muster in all my stress. My feet were still perpendicular, but now I spread them apart, and my knees were bent into right angles directly over my toes. My left arm sat in the air behind me, and my right arm was bent out by my side and ready. My hand was already becoming sweaty around the hilt. Peter lowered into the on guard stance as well, and for a brief period we just stared at each other, my eyes determined and nervous, his eyes laughing as usual and ready for fun. "Lymay, give the signal," Peter commanded and the boy nodded.
"Go!" he yelled. At first both of us just remained still. I wasn't really sure what to do, how to start, but I ended up sucking in a sharp breath and making the first move, advancing on Peter. He retreated a couple of steps, and I increased my speed and lunged, throwing my left arm straight out in back of me, pushing off of my left leg and straightening it behind me, and thrusting my right arm straight and forward. Peter easily parried the attack by moving his dagger to his left and catching my sword, knocking it aside. Before I knew it, he had lunged back at me and skillfully lightly touched me in the center of my chest with the tip of his dagger. I hadn't even given a thought to safety with touches and I was frankly relieved that he had thought about it.
Nevertheless, I gasped and winced in surprise and fear, feeling the tip of the blade lightly graze my shirtfront. He was fast! Faster than any other opponent I had faced thus far, but I should have expected that. As I looked wide-eyed at the sharp dagger, Peter suddenly brought it up and lifted my chin with it, shutting my gaping mouth for me. I stared at him with raised eyebrows and frightened eyes and he laughed.
"Do you honestly think that I'd hurt you?" he asked, making the notion sound absolutely absurd.
"Uh…" I replied. "I guess not." In all honesty, I wasn't all that sure.
"Well, you can trust me, Rebecca. I won't hurt you," he told me, putting a hand on my shoulder.
"Peter wouldn't hurt any of us, Beck," a voice from the boys said. I looked to my left and saw that it was Lymay who had spoken. He grinned at me. "I can call you 'Beck,' right?" I smiled and nodded. "Well, Beck, you would have to do something really bad for Peter to want to hurt you," he assured me. "Right, Peter?" He looked at Peter with the cutest innocent eyes and I could hardly repress an "Aw!" Peter grinned at the boy.
"Right, Lymay," he said with a chuckle. "And I don't think that Rebecca would do something really bad…would you?" Peter turned to me with a smile and a wink and made me laugh.
"'Course not, Peter!" I giggled. Again, I overheard an obnoxious imitation from Braith. "Unlike some people I know," I remarked, shooting a glance in her direction. Our eyes met for a moment, and I cleared my throat uncomfortably.
"Like who, Beck?" Catch asked. I had looked away from Braith before anyone noticed the strain between us, and thought quickly for a good reply.
"Like…like…" It hit me. "Like my little brother!" I chuckled to myself at the sudden thought. It was true. My brother was a junior in high school and very much a troublemaker…nasty, inconsiderate…I supposed he was the typical teenage brother.
"What did he do?" Catch asked excitedly. Was it time for a story already? 'Hah!' I thought to myself. 'When is it not a good time for a story around here?' I knew right then that I was going to love this place. I mean, I had always known that, but it had been my life-long dream to publish my stories, thousands of them! And now I had finally found a group of boys who honestly not only welcomed stories, but also loved them. A perfect Neverland family for me. That is, essentially, what they were to Peter, right? His band, his boys, his family…even though I knew from the book that Lost Boys, well, were killed by pirates or disbanded to grow up like they had with the Darling children, or broke away and vanished in other ways. New Lost Boys, and now a girl, were (I supposed) frequently recruited. Nevertheless, Peter did have a family with these kids, didn't he?
"Hey, Rebecca, are you interested in finishing this challenge before you tell us what your brother did?" Peter suddenly asked, adorable impatience riding in his voice.
"Huh?" I asked, shaking my head from my thoughts. "Yeah, let's get on with it then!" I picked up my sword, which I had dropped when Peter had made a touch. "On-guard, mate," I said, trying to sound like a pirate. Peter nearly fell back in the air laughing, and there were chortles from the Lost Boys.
"Right-o, lass!" he replied as the laughter died down, and hardly had Lymay said, "Fence!" when Peter lunged at me. Careful not to step out of the proper boundary lines for fencing, I shakily smashed my blade into his, bringing it to my left in a parry-four. Peter swiftly disengaged, sweeping his blade under the sword and lunging again, stopping once more just as the tip of his dagger touched my shirt. His stance was beautiful, in fencing terms. Right arm stretched out, hand holding dagger firmly, body in a diagonal pointing toward me, right leg bent with the knee directly over the toes, and left leg gracefully extended in the back. "Gotcha again," he smiled while I admired his position.
"Boy, I wish I could fence like you, Peter." I was grinning and shaking my head. He had such skill! Skill that I could never match; I was striving to achieve the unachievable. Who had I been kidding when I had taken that fencing course for a gym credit my previous semester? Sure, fencing was amazing and so much fun, but I had stupidly wanted to become like Peter Pan in my fencing skills. If there is anything impossible, that is it.
"Girl, no one can fence like Peter Pan," Braith scoffed at me, standing comfortably with her arms folded about her chest, smiling at Peter like he was…then again, he was like a god to them, and to me, really. Peter took the compliment with utter humbleness: he tossed his dagger, giving it a flip, caught it with boasting ease, and rose in the air, beating his chest and crowing.
"You are most modest, Peter Pan," I remarked as we watched him. He looked down at me, and landed in front of me, sweeping himself into a graceful bow so that he went down on one knee, holding my gaze.
"Would you rather me tell a lie, Rebecca? I can't help that I'm marvelous!" I snorted, now with my own arms folded, the sword tucked into my right fist.
"You snort at Peter Pan, you snort at all of us," Braith said. I looked at her as Peter stood.
"I didn't mean any offense by-"
"Didn't you? You don't mean any offense at all, eh? Just coming here and making yourself at home?" Braith started toward me.
"Braith, I-"
"And then go and sleep in my bed?"
"Braith," Peter tried.
"Braith, Peter told me-"
"And PETER! Challenge PETER PAN to a sword duel? Dare to think that you're a better fencer than he is?"
"What? I never-"
"Never respected him, or me?" She was nearly nose-to-nose with me now. I opened my mouth to try to speak again when her knife was suddenly at my throat, causing me to gulp. "And that's my sword, by the way."
"BRAITH! JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" Peter yelled. He snatched her wrist, yanked the knife out of her hand, and tossed it over his shoulder. He still held her wrist, which she tried to wrench free.
"Peter…I can handle this," I said softly, but firmly. Peter's eyes were locked with Braith's, both glaring at each other, and then their heads snapped around to look at me. I nodded at Peter, confirming my statement, and then narrowed my eyes at Braith. "What do you want from me, Braith?"
"A duel," she whispered through gritted teeth.
"Then a duel you shall have," I hissed.
"To the death," she added. A gasp erupted from our audience.
"Braith, what's the matter with you?" Peter broke in.
"Eh, that's asking too much, gal," I said. Every eye was on Braith, and finally she shrugged, muttering, "Coward." I ignored the comment (which Peter must not have heard) and watched her retrieve her knife. "Braith, it's not a fair fight that you use a knife against a sword-"
"You saying I'm not good enough?" she challenged. I shrugged. Sure, Peter was good enough to do it…why not see what would happen with Braith?
"Okay, if you insist."
"I do." And without waiting for an 'on-guard' or any sort of signal to fence, she rushed at me, knife pointed at my chest. I went to parry the attack, caught off guard by the sudden start of the fight, and tried to be careful not to catch any of her skin with my sword. It ended up being a mock blow, and as I went to block it, Braith disengaged my defense and continued to lunge, nicking my chest as I jumped back. My damp t-shirt was now torn and I felt a mild sting. I looked down to see a hint of blood weaving through the cotton. She meant business.
A ripple of fear crept up my spine as I sucked in a breath and attacked my opponent. This is where my huge disadvantage came in to play. I have a horrible habit of getting very sloppy with my technique when I'm nervous, and wham! That nervousness settled in here. My hand, sweating around the hilt of my sword, shook with fatigue. I had started to sweat long ago, but now my face was getting heated with the intensity of only the beginning of the duel. Desperately trying to keep my technique, I brought my sword down on her knife, attempting to curve under it and head for her chest, hopefully knocking her knife from her hand. It didn't work.
Braith moved her knife out of the way and managed to smash it upon my sword, forcing it with pathetic ease from my hand's tired clutch. Right then, all other sounds were muffled from my eardrums. I only heard myself breathing heavily as Braith kicked my sword out of reach when I dove for it. If anyone was yelling for her to stop, I wasn't hearing them. I was just hoping she'd have the decency to stop fighting until I'd regained my weapon. She had won, fair and square. I was willing to accept that. But then I felt a kick in my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. My face smashed into the ground, the sand burning my left cheek. I tried to breathe, unsuccessfully, and Braith pushed my right shoulder against the ground, straddling my stomach and lowering her knife to my throat again…I pushed her arm away, or tried to, but she was strong and I was exhausted, sweating, and unable to breathe. I helplessly watched the knife come down upon me when a large dagger came under it and stopped it.
The dagger brought it up and away from me, Braith fighting back, off-balance. Peter hovered in the air next to me, still pressing against her knife until she nearly fell off of me. She stumbled backwards, Peter in close pursuit. Cries of, "Peter! Peter, stop! Don't!" followed. His feet hit the ground and, ignoring the protests, he swung his dagger at her knife, forcing her back still. Out of breath as I was, I couldn't say anything, but I'm not sure I would have told him to stop, I was so angry with Braith. She was having trouble blocking his blows, and soon Peter and backed her into a tree. His dagger clashed into her knife and he pinned her against the bark, seething with anger, and holding his dagger still against her knife. Holding my stomach and gradually catching my breath, I leaned on an elbow, sitting up just enough to see the two under the shady tree.
Braith was the one breathing hard now, mouth agape, and for the first time, I saw fear in her eyes as she stared up at Peter. For a moment, all were silent. The Lost Boys and I watched, holding our breaths, as Peter and Braith stared at each other, irate eyes boring down upon timid eyes. No words were exchanged.
"Peter," I managed to wheeze, not being able to take another second of this awful silence. He hesitated, only moving his eyes to glance at me.
"Not to the death, Braith," he growled through a clenched jaw.
"Now that was reeaaally bad," Lymay whispered to Dreep, who nodded. I would have laughed, had it been anything but completely inappropriate. That and I didn't have enough breath yet to laugh anyway. Just then, Peter released his hold against Braith, still glaring at her, and rushed to kneel at my side.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly.
"Mhm." It came out quieter than I had intended. In truth, I wasn't okay. My stomach ached from the kick, I was having a hard time breathing, and my side was sore from my fall earlier. "I-I'm fine," I grunted, attempting to sit all the way up. That didn't work, so I rolled over to my stomach and pushed myself up to a kneeling position. I felt Peter's hand on my shoulder and gave him a weak sideways smile. He turned in Braith's direction. She was slouched back against the tree, and when she caught his eyes, she straightened and walked away from the tree, a little towards us, but stopped at a distance. I had shifted myself around to look at her, and now we made eye contact. I'm not sure I've ever seen someone look at me with so much contempt, especially after what Peter said next:
"You'd better be glad that Rebecca isn't hurt badly." His voice was soft and…scary. I couldn't help but hope that he would never speak to me like that. "Get out of here." Braith turned and disappeared into the forest within seconds.
"Peter, she is my twin," Lasher said in a small protest. Peter whipped around and glared at Lasher, daring him to say more.
"Want to follow her? Be my guest." Lasher waited a moment, and then took a step with a trembling foot. "Go," Peter said threateningly, cocking his head in the direction Braith had taken. Lasher looked at him skeptically, taking another slow step. "GO!" Peter shouted. His order was like the trigger that sends the bullet flying; Lasher took off, fast. Parting branches sounded in the boy's wake. Peter turned his eyes to the remaining boys, asking just by his look if anyone else cared to follow suit, but they all literally drew back, cringing. None of us knew what would happen with Braith, and now Lasher was risking punishment as well. 'All right,' I finally thought. 'Enough of this.'
"Uh…Peter?" My voice was shaky, and I cleared my throat. Everyone was looking at me. I can't say it wasn't odd. "Um…where, uh, can I get food?" I could almost hear the breaths of the boys being exhaled in relief as Peter finally smiled.
"Come on," he said, taking my hand and yanking me into the air. 'Happy thought…FOOD!' I thought to myself as I struggled to stay in the air. "Lost Boys, dismissed!" Peter announced, and at once the boys scattered. "How does fruit sound?" he asked me. I nodded, and he took off, pulling me with him.
I believe this chapter is just about my longest yet...and I have no idea how long chapter twelve will be. I'm a couple of pages into it right now...PLEASE REVIEW (no flames)!!!!!! THANK YOU:)