Chapter 3: Vidia

Peter's heart beat once.

"NO!"

The boy hit the ground so hard his skin split. But Peter reeled again, breaking his fists over the earth until they bled.

"NO!"

Wendy's wrist rattled, but Peter pressed her palm to his cheek just the same. Squeezing shut his eyes, Peter willed her hand to come back to life; to cradle behind his ear; to brush his bangs; to cover her smile; to make everything all right.

He let go. Her hand fell. It hit the dirt. And it stayed. Muddy. Filthy. Cold. And lifeless.

"NO!"

Wendy was in his arms, dangling like a mangled puppet. Furiously, Peter took her head and screamed into the caramel curls.

"Wake up! Wake up!"

He hugged the girl closer, trying to share his heart beat.

"Please!"

The world went black and static.

"WENDY!"

Nothing. Ever. Again.

"I'M SCARED! I'M SCARED!"

"Shut up, already."

Peter reared, curling Wendy's body into his arms. Breath crystallizing in the icy air, he glared through tears and sharp rain drops. But he could not see who had spoken.

"Where are you?" Peter yelled, searching wildly. He held Wendy tightly as if she were the only thing keeping him alive. "Where are you?"

"Here."

"Where?"

"Down here. Below you."

Three taps on his knee.

Peter looked.

It was a fairy.

Like Tinkerbell!

"Help!" Peter scrambled forward, kneeling before the fairy. "You're a fairy! Like Tinkerbell! Help me! Help Wendy! She – "

Peter stopped. The fairy was laughing. Her laughter was colder than ice and hurt like a knife.

Edging back, the boy looked at the fairy. She had a tangle of dark hair, clear wings, and features sharper than her tone. Unhindered by the rain and wind, she regarded Peter with grey eyes buried in a frosty glare.

The wind swirled as the fairy spoke. "Don't you think there's enough rain without you slobbering tears all over the forest?"

Peter's fingers dug into Wendy's nightgown.

"I don't slobber!" Angrily, Peter rubbed a shoulder to his cheek. This fairy was not like Tinkerbell. She was calloused and cruel. And Peter did not like her. "And I'm not crying!"

"If you say so." Again the fairy laughed. Flicking her wings, the fairy lifted into the air. She floated leisurely over Wendy's lifeless eyes. Pausing, she studied the girl's face.

"So why are you crying?" asked the fairy with an imperial glance over her shoulder. "Beause of the girl? Because her light's gone out?"

Hot coals burned in Peter's eyes. "Wendy hasn't gone out!"

The fairy grinned with malicious pity.

"She hasn't!" Peter stumbled back. He tripped over a root, slamming into the mud. Wendy dropped heavily against his chest.

"She hasn't!" Peter screamed. Shoulders shaking, Peter buried his head in the curve of Wendy's neck so the fairy would not see him cry. "She hasn't! She hasn't! Wendy is here for me! She's right here! Wendy's….she's…."

Thunder crashed with Peter's sobs.

The fairy looked up to the sky.

"Do you know why I like storms?"

Peter looked up. His face was scarred with tearstains.

The fairy looked again to the sky. Wind and rain churned around her like a magical aura.

"Storms are powerful." The fairy smiled. Closing her eyes, he soaked in the sensations of the storm. "Powerful and potent. More potent than the stupid animal, water, garden, light, or tinker talents. Storms are combustive. Storms ignite the sky. But…not on the mainland."

The fairy's face darkened. "Behind the second star to the right, storm magic changes. Storms are destructive. Storms cut into nature's tapestry. Storms hurt. Storms…kill."

"But in Neverland!" The fairy threw her arm into the air. A symphony of lighting and thunder illuminated the purple sky. "In Neverland storms electrify life! Thunder hammers in every heart. Lightening inspirits numb minds. And wind…"

The fairy smiled as the wind whistled through her soul. "…breaths into our every breath."

Peter stared.

The fairy rose. She wove into the stormy shadows. "Yes. Storms are powerful magic." Thunder cracked as the fairy disappeared. "Or so I'm told."

Rain fell over the children. Wendy's wet hair curled over Peter's fingers.

Peter's tears burned down his cheeks. They fell onto Wendy. They prickled over the kiss she wore around her neck.

Lightning slivered through the sky. The flash splintered light onto Peter's kiss. The kiss that Wendy had given him.

A happy thought.

Then Peter knew.

"Storms are powerful magic."

Peter stood. He started to run.

He thought of Wendy. He felt her body against his.

Peter started to fly.

He flew up. Higher and higher. Faster and faster.

Then, chased by wind, rain, thunder, and lighting, Peter crashed into the heart of the storm.

"Hold on Wendy."