Chapter 03

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as I looked back, my body shivering once more as I turned toward the window, and the creature that stood on the sill.

It moved slowly, standing upright as it looked down upon us. As it moved, so too did its shadow. The dark that had disguised its features fell away, sliding into the room like a silken blanket, revealing its face.

I do not know what my brother saw when he looked upon the thing. He called it beautiful, and perhaps it was. In its way.

But it was also incredibly, horribly terrifying.

At first, it looked like a boy. Perhaps our age, perhaps older. Perhaps younger, as its features seemed to shift almost as often as its emotions. Its skin was pale; not sickly so, but instead a youthful paleness that was fresh and smooth and inhuman in its perfection. Its hair was wild and tawny, except for when it wasn't, at which time it was whatever it wanted to be. Leaves were caught up in it, as if they'd alighted carelessly upon its head and decided they belonged there, rather than anywhere else in all of creation.

Its features were stark and smooth, whichever it so wished at the time. Its face could be that of a cherub baby, full and bright and cheery, or it could be that of a fresh corpse, thin and gaunt and sallow. Its eyes were no more fixed in color than its hair; I would learn later that its down would often enough echo the season, whereas its eyes would shift like liquid crystal, mirroring its mood.

In that moment, as I tried to lead my brother to safety, its eyes were the furious oranges and reds of an autumn sunset, burning its last light away on the distant horizon as the darkness set itself upon the world.

Of course, if that were all there had been to it, it would have been beautiful and terrible. But there was more, always more to that creature. More than the eye could catch in a lifetime, much less a moment.

Its ears were sharp and pointed, and leaning to and fro as its interest was peeked. When angry, they would set back like a dog's at warning; when happy, they would almost stand up straight, like a hare on Easter Morning. It could control them no better than it could the colors of its eyes, both slaves to the emotions of the moment.

More fixed in their countenance were its horns. Tiny, blunt little knobs adorned the corners of its forehead. As small as a youthful goat's, they were no less majestic than the rest of the creature, catching the light whenever it was present, as if made to draw the eye. I knew later that others could not see them, and yet were just as helplessly drawn to looking upon the thing as I.

The rest of it was more or less human, except for the rare moments when it wasn't. As it stood there, it was as tall as a boy of nine. In time, I would see it both younger and older, its age as inconsistent as its temperament. Do not blame Mister Barrie or the girl for their inability to put an age to the creature, for such a thing was impossible. It was, as it was in almost every aspect of its life, as it wished to be.

But never old. Never that.

Both beautiful and terrible, the creature was quite obviously not human. How anyone could think so was beyond me, and yet my brother seemed incapable of seeing it for what it was. I saw his youthful eyes shining with joy as he looked up the thing, as if it were a long lost friend it had never met. I could not explain at the time why I was not caught up in the same urgent yearning to please it. All I knew was that we must hurry to escape it, for to do anything else was to invite doom.

While it might seem as if my inspection of the creature was long and studious, it was in fact nothing more than a frozen moment in time. A glimpse, a glance, to take in the inhuman nature of it, and then I was turning away, reaching for the door. My hand grasped at the knob even as I pulled my brother along, his grinning attention behind us as he stumbled backwards with me.

I had just managed to turn the handle, pulling the door open a scant few inches, when the creature's shadow whisked between our feet to roll up onto the flat wooden surface.

I felt the knob pulled from my fingers as the door slammed shut with a certain finality. Feeling a sense of desperation growing within me, I reached again for the handle, but instead flinched back as the shadow of the thing loomed up before us, growing taller than the shadow of a boy ever could.

"Brother!" Robin exclaimed happily, looking backward, and so failing to notice that the creature's pall had trapped us within the room. "Isn't he wonderful?"

I turned back to the creature then, in time to see it hop down from the windowsill. There was something about the way it moved, something about its legs, that defied logic. It hurt my eyes to see it, as if my mind were somehow struggling to make sense of what it witnessed. Surely its legs moved as a human's would, and yet I could not fight the growing sense that its knees bent backwards rather than forwards.

"Robin, we must—" I began, only to let my words fade into a startled yelp as the shadow moved again, something cold slithering over my skin as it shifted forward. I could just make out the vague form of its dark fingers as it crawled over me, my flesh rising at the feel of its chilly tendrils as they crept along my limbs. I screamed then, a harsh wail of fear escaping my lips as shadowed hands climbed up my neck, the dark effigy of the creature's broken nails scraping across my skin like they had the window.

I ran, retreating backwards, but the shadow clung to me like a dark fog, swirling in my wake and rolling over me. I scraped at it, as if it were something tangible I could fling from me, but my fingers felt nothing but the cold. My body trembled as it probed at me, this living darkness that would not yield, even to the light of the moon.

"Robin!" I cried, helpless as it pressed me to the wall. I flailed at it, my hands passing through the dark gloom that hung in the air before me. As formless as any shadow, it was somehow strong enough to hold me, and I realized with a certain terror that I could not escape its grasp.

My eyes shifted toward my brother, only to find him dancing heartily in the arms of the creature.

"And we shall have great adventures!" I heard the thing say, its eyes wide and merry as it smiled at Robin. "Wait until you meet the other Boys; they will be like brothers to you!"

"I cannot wait!" Robin replied, his joyous expression mirrored on the face of the creature. "Oh, how long have I yearned for an adventure!"

The two spun about in obvious glee, oblivious to my predicament. I was horrified to see how the creature deceived my brother so thoroughly, pretending to be his friend. It wasn't until later that I realized the thing was not feigning its excitement; it did not lie, for it was truly as happy as it appeared. Such was the way of it, living in the moment, living true to its nature.

As I watched them, I felt a tugging at my wrists. The dark gloom before me loomed up, pulling at me. I resisted, straining to keep away from the thing. I knew not what it wanted; surely it sought to tear me apart for seeking my escape. Only in one last moment did I realize what its rocking motion implied. I blinked at it, my fear somewhat fading, as its intention became clear.

The shadow did not want to hurt me.

It wanted to dance with me.

I felt my breath escape me, as I understood the creature in that moment. It did not wish us harm, for wishing harm was beyond it. It simply wanted us. For what, I was not sure. But I knew that it longed to take us with it, to have us set out under the moonlight, to see the world as we had never seen it before. It wanted to lead us to a world of wonder.

And despite my terror, for a moment I considered that I might let it.

Alas, it was not meant to be.

Even as I felt the cold shadow tugging at me, the door to our room crashed open. The sound of it startled all four us, the shadow included, and we all turned as one to the sight of our father standing in the doorway.

"What is this?" he cried, alarmed to find us not only out of bed, but dancing about. At first I thought he might only see Robin and I; they say that adults cannot see the faeries and the pixies because they do not believe. And if ever there was a father that did not believe, it was ours.

But it took only a moment for our father's gaze to fix on the creature, his eyes widening in what must have been a mirror to my own fear. "Who— what—" he stammered, clearly at a loss to understand what he was seeing.

I found that I could not speak, could not explain what had happened. My fear of the creature had returned upon seeing my father's own, and as the shadow clutching at me grew colder still. I gasped, trying to find the words, even as a second gasp sounded behind my father. It announced the arrival of our mother, a wild tumble of fiery hair cascading across one shoulder as she stared at the creature.

Her eyes were like saucers in the moonlight as she gazed upon him, her body rocking wistfully as one hand flew to her throat.

"You!"

I often wonder at her reaction; at what she meant with that one word. How I wish I could ask her about it. I think my father would have liked to have known as well.

Alas, the mystery remains. As they so often do.

A long, tense moment passed as we stood there, as odd a tableau as there has ever been. The creature's gaze had landed upon my father, their stormy eyes mirroring one another as they recognized a threat. Perhaps if it had ended there, things might have gone differently. If they'd looked upon each other and retreated, letting the moment pass.

But then the creature's eyes fell upon my mother.

And they were furious.

"NO!" it screamed, pulling away from our parents in a flash. It kept its grip on Robin, who looked somewhat dazed, caught between a dream and reality. "Not a mother! They cannot be trusted!"

"Let him go!" my father roared, surging forward at the same moment my mother swooned, crying, "Not them!"

At once the shadow was gone, flashing away from me in a startling blur of motion that left me numb. It was hard to track, the darkness within a dark room. But my eyes shifted with it, watching as it crashed into my father with a furious violence that I had not known in my few years, save for the sputtering brilliance of a stray golden rocket.

I could not describe their exchange as a fight, for it was not that. To imply such would be a disservice to the gloomy figure, which was far more than my father could ever have hoped to manage on his own. I watched as it flung him about, crashing into a dresser that shattered upon impact. I heard my father scream in pain, and then the shadow flung him elsewhere, treating a grown man as if he were nothing more than a ragged doll.

"Stop!" I screamed. "Don't hurt him!"

Shrugging off my shock, I surged forward, intent on protecting my family. Whatever the creature's cause, it was in that moment my enemy. I reached for the shadow as it twisted about, but my hands only found empty air.

My attack did little, other than to cause a mild alarm in the dull shade of the creature. I think my response angered it, as its gentle but insistent touch from before was replaced with an angry thrust that sent me sprawling across the room. Its shadowed was an icy cold, one that seemed to leave frost on my flesh. I crashed into the wall with violent force, before falling helplessly to the floor, my arm throbbing where I had landed upon it.

The desperate clamor had at least broken through the enchantment around my brother. I saw Robin grow worried, as if realizing for the first time that something was indeed amiss. He tried to break free from the creature, but found himself locked in an unbreakable embrace.

"You must join us!" the creatures hissed, its voice still melodic and wondrous in its fury. "Both of you!"

"No!" Robin cried. "No, we cannot! My father—"

"No parents!" the creature bellowed, its features growing stark as it raged. A child's face could never display the level of frustration it felt then, and so it became older, although not too old. "Never parents! They don't belong!"

"Let me go!" Robin shouted, grabbing at the creature's wrist. "I want to go!"

"And go we shall!" the creature cried, its face growing younger as it grew excited. "On great adventures! There are pirates, and natives, and all sorts of creatures!"

"No!" Robin insisted, pleading, as tears ran down his face. For we were only nine, and this was a terrible thing to have happen to you at such an age.

"Yes! You must!" the creature insisted. "Both of you must come! My Twins!"

As it spoke, the thing's hand moved, gesturing at my brother. The air glittered, wavering as if a summer heat rippled through it, but without any warmth. As if reality itself bent and twisted for a moment, leaving my brother awash in the creature's strange power.

Despite his terror, I saw Robin's face slacken, his body slump, as if all of his cares were lost in a moment. The creature seized upon that moment, taking my brother in his arms, before shifting closer to the window.

And as they went, the shadow returned for me, its cold broken fingernails skittering up my legs as it sought purchase upon my flesh.

I screamed, once again trying futilely to break free. My efforts were no more successful that time as they had been the first. I heard my father trying to rise, moving groggily from where his head had hit the wall. Even delirious with pain, he reacted to my cry for help. But what could he do against such a thing? The shadow was only real when it wished to be, and neither of us could do anything to stop it.

So it was that I found myself being dragged across the floor of our bedroom, the dark gloomy shade drawing me closer to the window, when my mother burst forward.

I had not thought of her since the struggle had begun. I suppose I assumed she might have fainted, although she was hardly the type to do so. Still, at best I thought her incapacitated by fear, as I had been upon first seeing the creature. To this day, I regret not giving her the credit due.

As I was drawn toward the window, my night clothes twisting around me as the shadow dragged me across the floor, my mother ran fearlessly forward. A cry escaped her lips, the furious howl only a mother can make when shielding her young. She brought her arms around, a curious darkness swirling through the air as she swung at the shadow gripping me.

To my surprise, the shadow released me, as a silent howl erupted from its gloomy lips.

It was a sound echoed by the creature, who bent its back and crowed in agony as the strange scent of burning leaves reached my nostrils. The firm shadow gripping me grew wispy under my mother's assault, before retreating back toward the creature near the window.

I wondered at her success, surprised that she had succeeded where my father and I had failed. Why she had thought to retrieve a fire poker from downstairs, I could not guess. Although as I saw her swing the slim iron rod around at the creature, a vague memory from the stories bubbled up to the surface of my thoughts, of iron and faeries and their loathing for one another.

"Let him go!" my mother cried, her lovely accent thickening in her fury. She swung the iron poker with surprising accuracy, the shaft of metal slicing down through the air between Robin and the creature. To avoid the touch of the baleful metal, the thing released my brother, retreating from her attack as if she bore a blazing torch that threatened to consume it.

Up the wall it ran, its steps springing and light as my mother's repeated attacks whirled behind it, always just missing. The creature crowed again and again, its eyes taking on a fiery light as its skin tightened across the sharp bones of its face, aging with each passing moment. It tumbled and twirled, somersaulting upon the ceiling as if gravity were of no concern to it. Always staying out of reach, but in turn never finding a moment to retaliate.

On and on the two went, stumbling and tumbling about the room, as the rest of us dazedly watched.

And then, without so much as a warning, it ended.

My mother blinked in surprise at the touch of the shadow, forgotten in her pursuit of the creature. Her eyes fixed on me as the dark gloom pulled her backwards, her lips moving to say I know not what. The iron poker tumbled from her grasp as she fell backward at the wall, her knees buckling at the sill.

And then she was gone.

Forever.

A wail went up then, a woe-some cry that I did not recognize as my own until it was echoed by my father's. Our pain, given voice as we realized what had happened, was mocked by the crowing call of the creature, standing straight down from the ceiling as if it were the floor, its fists on its hips again as it puffed out its chest. The creature was victorious, prideful and joyous, as our mother fell to the pavement below. I could see the creature dancing on the ceiling, gleeful in its victory, as the shadow danced below it. The two were something from a fable, two great warriors that had vanquished some great evil deserving of its fate. As if they had slain some horrible dragon, rather than the woman that had given me birth.

I hated it then.

I hated it in a way that I could not comprehend. If I could have seen my face in a mirror, I would have recognized that loathing look the creature had cast toward my mother, for I now felt it for the thing.

But despite my hatred, I could not move.

It was then, in that moment, that I failed my brother.

Despite the danger still lurking, I could not move. I could not move as it skipped across the ceiling and then down to the floor. I could not move as it took up my brother, still dazed and lost under its power, slinging him over its shoulder like a bag of grain. I could not move as the shadow wrapped itself around me, its cold touch not so cold as the feeling in my heart.

There was nothing I could do as the creature stepped to the window, alighting upon the ledge with a gentle leap. The moonlight shone down on it from above, causing the creature's horns to glint in the night as it looked toward the distant stars. It paused for a moment, as if looking for the right one. I watched it, even as the shadow lifted me from the floor, shrugging me over its shoulder just as the creature had done with Robin.

And then, the creature's knees bent — and I saw it this time, surely bending backwards as knees don't often do — before springing into the air.

It was impossible, but so was all of it. An impossible creature, stolen into our room in the dead of night. An impossible shadow trailing after it, pulling me out the window as if it too were bounding into the sky. A pair of brothers, a set of Twins, off on some journey that we no longer longed for, an adventure that had already ended in our despair before it had even begun. Helpless against the creature that would steal us from our lives.

I felt the cold air on my face as we went out the window, upside down as if mirroring the upright leap of the creature. I heard his crowing cry up above, even as the world twisted around, leaving me looking down at the pavement below.

At my mother, below.

There was a soft swooshing sound then, somewhat recently familiar. I did not see what caused it, for I only had eyes for the twisted locks of scarlet far below. The sound was succeeded by another silent cry, one that was once again echoed by a howling pain from some great distance.

And then the cold touch of the shadow was gone, and I was tumbling down, down.

A hand grasped at me, grabbing at my night clothes. I heard a tearing sound, and my descent continued. Then came another grasping hand, slowing my descent to allow the first to take a firmer hold. The moment was an eternity, as I dangled there in the night. But then the moment passed, as the sound of a discarded iron poker clattering upon the cobbles resounded against the walls.

I hung there for a lifetime, staring down, until my father pulled me back up through the window, holding me close. He rocked with me in his arms, clutching me tightly, there in the shadows beneath the sill, under the bright moon. There wasn't much to see, but there needn't have been. The world could have traipsed passed our window, a band could have paraded into the room, and I would not have seen nor heard it.

The only thing I could hear, for quite some time, was the howling crow of the creature that had taken my brother.

The only thing I could see, for quite some time, were the wet cobbles below, and the twisted locks of scarlet strewn across them.