Chapter 85: Girls Talk Too Much

"Don't…move…"

Wendy's pulse throbbed in her ears. Painfully she turned her head. Although it was dark, she could see everything. The mechanical-Victorian vista spreading from mountains. Discarded gears, cogs, sprockets, and spokes. And…were those dragons?

Frightened, Wendy rolled, turning onto her stomach.

She came face to face with a shadow.

"Boo." Facilier suddenly laughed, snatching her from behind.

Wendy jumped. The shadow hissed. Wendy lurched backwards into Facilier. His hands, sticky as spider webs, scuttled around her waist.

Trapped in indecision, Wendy grabbed Facilier's wrist with one hand and grabbed for her thimble with the other.

The thimble was gone.

"No!" Wendy blurted pawing her neck. It was there, it had to be there! Her fingers scratched frantically over her hammering heart. "No, no, no! Stay! Stay away!"

Facilier stood. The shadow prowled closer. It started to metamorphosize in pursuit, transfiguring into the shape of a wolf.

Shuffling back, Facilier called to his shadow. Facilier's shadow swept to his aid but hurried back as the shadow-wolf snapped wildly.

Cursing, Facilier quickened his retreat. Squeezing Wendy, he swung her legs at the shadow-wolf, trying to shoo it away. Wendy squirmed, heels grazing the floor as Facilier alternately dragged and swung her at the shadow.

"Don't move!"

Wendy felt Facilier's grip tighten in response to Silver's voice. A moment later, the cyborg appeared. His optical lazer shone like a red pin prick. "Don't move! Do as I say!"

"You have the thimble." said Facilier. He jerked as the shadow-wolf nipped at Wendy's ankles. "You're protected. I can only control my shadow!"

Wendy felt Silver's arm cross her face. Through his fingers she saw the shadow-wolf snarling closer. Desperately, she searched Silver's hands for her thimble.

"Ye do as I say, Shadow Man!" Silver growled. Wendy's thimble gleamed on his robotic pinkie. "Stop movin' less ye want te be caught in the bloody Underworld forever! What the—?"

Silver shouted. Startled, he flexed as Wendy grabbed his finger with both hands and yanked. Kicking against Facilier Wendy twisted the thimble, trying to pry it from the suction pad hardwired onto Silver's fingertip.

Suddenly, a spring-pin popped. The phalanx shaft cracked as Wendy pulled the thimble free.

"No ye don't, Lass!"

Wendy yelped. Silver's metal shafts cut into her face as the cyborg lifte her into the air. The thimble slipped between her fingers and into Facilier's hand. Delightedly, Facilier donned the thimble and slashed at the shadow-wolf.

Suddenly, a column of white fire erupted from the darkness. The shadow-wolf juddered back and forth, enticed by both the brilliant light and the little girl dangling defenselessly in Silver's hands.

Ignoring the fire, Silver glared at Wendy.

"Thinking ye'll be makin' a mess of things?" Silver whispered. His red laser intensified into Wendy's face as the fire died. He squeezed, pulling her closer. "Pretending te be brave? Takin' the thimble? Think again, Lass. I don't need a magic silver trinket te keep me safe from shadows. Look."

Wendy did. Silver's fingers dug into her neck as she looked down.

"Oh!"

Shadows. Some transforming into creature shapes. Some shifting fluidly like black mist. All prowling hungrily for her vulnerable memories.

Wendy kicked, trying to climb higher. A shadow-serpent snapped at her feet. The image of her mother sliced through her mind. A shadow-puddle bubbled upwards at her toes. Her mother was wearing the dress on the day she died. The shadow-wolf bit her ankle. Her mother was smiling, holding a little girl on her hip. The little girl turned shyly into her mother's shoulder, her little feet lost in the gown's bursting fabric. Wendy heaved. She could see her mother's young, beautiful smile. She could feel her mother's embrace, shifting to keep her balanced. She could smell her mother's perfume. She could hear her mother. She could hear her…

"I don't want to!" Wendy screamed. Hysterical, she pulled the cyborg's wrist. "I don't want to remember this! Not this!"

Silver watched. Grimly, he extended Wendy over the shadows.

"Please!" Wendy cried. The shadows swarmed giddily under her toes. "Please! Not this! Not this memory! It's bad! It turns bad! Plea—"

Silver tilted up his wrist. Wendy gagged.

"Where's the map?" Silver asked. He gave Wendy a little shake. His wires pressed against her throat. "Jimbo's map?"

Wendy wheezed. The cartilage in her windpipe was ready to snap. "I…don't..know. Ah!"

"Yer a good lass." Silver growled as Wendy jerked down. Grinding his fingers, Silver watched the shadows writhe excitedly. "But who are ye tryin' te save? Jimbo? Why – he's been barganin' w' me this entire time."

Wendy struggled to keep aloft. "Liar! Jim wouldn't—"

"He's m' mate. Me cabin boy, partner in crime. Why—he's off right now. Lookin' fer an escape from this Underworld. How do ye think ye got here, Lass? Jimbo left ye. He left ye te rot…alone in yer…"

Slowly, Silver lowered Wendy towards the shadows. "…memories."

Wendy shook. Choking, she reached for her thimble on Facilier's finger.

Silver crouched. He held Wendy's ear to his mouth. "Ye know why shadows can't hurt me, Lass?"

Red eye burning, Silver held Wendy over the shadowy pit.

"Because I'm a cyborg. An' fer a shadow te hurt ye…." Silver whispered, releasing Wendy's throat. "…ye need a soul."

Wendy dropped. She fell into the shadows.

And she remembered.

Each shadow sawed into her mind, seizing the memory of her mother's death and shredding it apart. The memory flashed across her mind like a broken horror movie reeling in unsynchronized sound, picture, and order. The memory stretched, slowed, replayed…over…and over…

"Wendy!"

A second column of dragon fire burned across Facilier and Silver. The shadows, magnetized by the proximity of light, screamed into the dragon. Peter emerged from the flames, charging through the shadows and into Wendy like a comet.

Wendy was a rag in Peter's arms, but she hugged his neck. Feet hardly touching the ground, Peter turned up into the sky.

Facilier screamed, but Silver acted first. Arm springing from his shoulder socket, Silver grabbed the back of Wendy's head. Her jaw rapped as her neck snapped backwards. Her hair was snarled between Silver's fingers.

Peter faltered. Then, after an apologetic squeeze, he blasted upwards.

Silver howled. But all he could do was shake a metal fist after the children as they flew into the darkness.

"I've got ya!" Peter yelled, fear eclipsing into triumphant glee. Energized, he flew faster and faster through the blackness. "How's that for a hero?"

Suddenly, Wendy held him tighter. "Peter! Fly!"

"What?"

"Fly!"

"Fly? What do you think I'm – "

"Shadows!" Wendy cried. Her voice shook against Peter's chest. "Shadows! Behind you!"

Peter turned. "I don't see any—whoa!"

Simultaneous insults broke Peter's flight. The shadows attacked; Peter could not see, but felt them, crawling over he and Wendy like invisible spiders. Wendy clenched his shoulder blades and screamed; a hollow, hopeless feeling overpowered Peter's every happy thought as he was pulled into Wendy's worst nightmare. And finally –

WACK!

Peter and Wendy slammed into something. As Peter fell, crashing onto a stone ledge, he knew it was some sort of building.

He heard Wendy running before she grabbed him.

"You have to get up!" she cried, tugging on his shirt. Peter staggered on all fours. He heard the shadows flapping as Wendy tried to push him into the air. "Get up! Hurry, Peter! Fly! You don't have your shadow! Go! Fly! – "

Peter grabbed Wendy's shoulder. The shadows hissed over their heads. Peter faltered. Wendy was right…if the shadows got inside him again….and with Wendy missing her thimble to protect him…

Wait. Protect him? Her? A girl?

Peter skid to a halt. Plunging a hand into his pocket, he pulled out John's Ziploc. Turning it inside out, he searched for more pixie dust. If anyone was going to do the protecting…

"Peter!" Wendy cried, pushing him off the ledge with astounding force. "Fly!"

"Here!" Peter shouted, shoving the bag into Wendy's hands. His toes slipped off the edge as Wendy pushed. "There's gotta be some in there! Here! Think of a happy – "

The shadows attacked. Wendy reeled backwards as the shadows buzzed through her like a chain saw.

"Wendy!" Peter flew forward. Reaching through the darkness, he searched for Wendy. "Wendy! AH!"

For a split second, an image flashed in Peter's mind. It was instantaneous. Like a bolt of lightning.

A woman. A very pretty woman. Before he blinked, she was smiling. Right at him. Peter almost smiled back: she looked like Wendy. A shade of Wendy.

But….

…but after he blinked…

….the woman was dead.

Peter never knew his parents. Nor his mother. So unfamiliar and extraneous was the concept, that Peter could not even imagine what having a mother was like.

But, at that moment – the moment that Wendy screamed – Peter felt what it was like to lose someone that loves you. Unselfishly and unconditionally loves you.

Butchered by the feeling, Peter crumpled. He clutched his temples, trying to press out the image of the dead woman that looked like Wendy.

Wendy.

Feebly, Peter reached. It was hopeless: his mind was crippled and his eyes were blind in the darkness. Curling over his knees, Peter waited for the shadows to finish with Wendy.

And take him next.

Then, something happened.

Thud.

DINNNNNNNNNG!

Light!

Golden, gloriously beautiful light burst like a waterfall of dandelions, buttercups, sunshine, and fireflies. Overwhelmed, Peter fell back as buckets of yellow drowned his wits and senses. For a moment he just sat, breathing in the light.

Presently, he became aware of three things.

First, the shadows had scattered, lifting like black rain returning to clouds.

Second, a giant bell, deep inside the giant clock he was facing, was ringing.

Third, was Wendy. She was pressed against the clock face; leaning over the giant minute hand like a knight slung over his sword.

Slowly, Wendy opened her eyes. Golden tear stains glimmered over her cheeks. She unclenched the giant minute hand. The Ziploc bag fell and floated off the giant clock tower. Distracted, Wendy watched the Ziploc. Then, bathed in golden light, she looked to Peter.

Peter exhaled. He might have said her name. But he could not tell. The bell was still tolling.

Finally, the last chime rung. Peter and Wendy followed the echo as it bounded across the Underworld, from the bronze dragons on silver mountains, to the steel cities and glass buildings, to the copper gears and iron cogs, to the golden clock tower to the ebony streak of shadows writhing overhead.

Peter watched the shadows. Then, heavily he stood. Joining Wendy, he placed three fingers on the clock face. The opal surface shimmered with golden sparkles. Almost like…

"Pixie dust." Peter circled his hand over the opal face. Golden ripples trailed after his fingertips.

Entranced, Peter looked to Wendy. "What'd you do?"

Wendy was speechless. The clock face was radiant, shining like a sun. Whatever powered it – whether it be pixie dust or some other enigma – Wendy did not know. Regardless, the clock had turned on like a light bulb just as the shadows drove her against the opal face. And fair or foul, the magical light had resurrected the underground world. And…dispatched the shadows. For now.

Exhausted, Wendy shook her head.

"Where are we?" she finally asked, leaning against the clock tower.

Peter grinned. He couldn't help but feel scintillating in the light. Happily reclining beside her, Peter nudged Wendy with crossed arms.

"Nice 'thank you for saving my life Pete-ah.'"

Wendy closed her eyes. "Peter—"

"—aw don't mention it. Happy to save your life, again but pretty soon I'm gonna start charging. I dunno, what-oh-what would be worth my time and effort…maybe a little toosh privilege or French kiss for every—"

"—Peter. Tell me where we are."

Peter stopped.

"That was uncharacteristically direct." he said, avoiding the true reason for Wendy's brusqueness. Turning, Peter hid a shiver. Just thinking of Wendy's memory made him sick. Grinding his teeth through the terrible feeling, Peter relapsed to his usual defenses: cockiness and jest.

"Well..what'daya know? Miss W. Perfect Darling getting a little aggressive all on her own. Huh. Not having Rat Tail around is having a good effect on you."

Wendy's eyes snapped open. "Jim! Oh no! Jim!"

That annoyed Peter. Correction: that infuriated Peter.

Eyebrows angled, he glared as Wendy pushed from the clock face.

"He's here, Jim is here!" she said striding to the edge. Toes skimming the air, she searched the industrial landscape. "Silver said Jim was here and looking for an escape. Escape….escape…there! Those holes in the sky – "

Peter frowned. Distracted momentarily from his anger, Peter squinted at the chasm ceiling. All he saw was darkness, marbled with shadows. "Holes? What holes?"

"Those." Wendy waved a hand absently, gaze still combing the steel streets for Jim. "Can't you see them? Like little holes poked into bigger ones with light coming through. There's one right above us, but the light is blue. Like water. And there's another over there, above the statue on that palace-sort of tower. Do you see them?"

Peter cocked his head. He peered. Intensely. "No."

"Well…they are there." Wendy said. Taking a deep breath, she ran a hand through her curls. "At least…I think so. Unless I'm imagining things. But…I wonder if Jim can see them? If he's trying to escape—"

"—sure Rat Tail is looking for an escape." Peter interrupted. He flew in front of Wendy, blocking her view. "I heard what Silver was saying before I saved you. Rat Tail is ditching."

Wendy flinched, as if Peter slapped her. "No! He was lying! Silver was lying! Jim would never – "

"—Oh yeah? Boy, this should be good: How do you know?"

"I just do!"

"Oh really?"

"Yes. Really."

"That's rich."

"I know Jim!" Wendy said, voice raising at Peter's inflexibility. Angrily, she followed Peter as he drifted along the edge. "I've known Jim most of my life and he would never ever betray– "

"—Ohhhhh I'm sorrrrry!" Peter gushed, raising his hands in mock apology, "Because you obviously heard every word Rat Tail and his best cyborg buddy were saying during their secret key-hole conversation when we were locked in the castle. You know for a fact – one hundred percent without a doubt – that Rat Tail and Silver weren't scheming against us, and this whole 'dump us into the magical oven thing' with shadows and dragons and who knows what the Hell else is just a happy coincidence."

Wendy was flabbergasted. Her mind was whizzing, going too fast. Peter's argument was too involved, too…possible.

"Jim is my best friend!" she blurted.

Peter laughed. "Adorable. Bless your gullible little heart."

Wendy glared. "Excuse me?"

"Wendy." Peter said. His smile flattened. His eyes were blacker than the writing on gravestones. "Wendy…Rat Tail…Jim…"

Coercively as he could, Peer snapped his fingers across Wendy's face.

"…betrayed us."

Wendy's eyes flared. She stepped back. "That. Is. Not. True. How…how could you even suggest that?"

"Easy." Peter said. Taking her hand, he pulled Wendy towards the edge. "Like it or not, I'm in charge of you now. So…off to your escape holes and let's get my shadow—"

Wendy yanked her hand away. Whether her loyalty was compulsory or principled, she was not abandoning Jim.

"I'm not going anywhere with you Peter Pan until I find Jim! And furthermore—" Wendy said, standing a little taller, "—I am in charge of myself, thank you!"

"Okay, first of all—" Peter said, swerving at Wendy. "—you're a walking target. Born damsel in distress—"

"—Take that back!"

"—And second!" Peter retorted, snatching Wendy's camisole. "I'm fed up! I want my shadow! No more of this exorcist crap! Now you sucked my shadow out of me, so you're going to get it back!" Pointed ears reddening, Peter marched Wendy to the edge. "Got it? Miss Darling?"

Wendy resisted. "I am not leaving Jim!"

Peter's temper flared. Twisting the light blue fabric, he darted into the air, yanking the camisole up. He smiled when Wendy squeaked.

"Peter Pan! Stop it! Stop acting like a child! Jim Hawkins would never hurt me and I would never hurt him! So you go if you want, but I am staying here until I find –"

Peter spun. "—Don't be stupid! I'm not leaving without you!"

Wendy was so angry, she ran right into his arms. "I can manage! Go! Just – "

But Peter had enough. He yanked. Hard.

"Girls talk too much!" he growled, grabbing the seat of Wendy's jeans and kicking into the air. "Hold on!"

Burning with anger, Peter and Wendy spiraled around Big B.E.N. and through a hole in the Underworld sky that only Wendy could see.

Far below, Long John Silver smiled.

"Fine." he whispered, gesturing to Facilier's shadow with a flicker of silver fingers. "Bloody fine."