Hi, my dear readers!
I know, it's rather unusual to publish a new chapter in the middle of the week, but I didn't want to let you wait any longer. I'm sorry that the distances between the dates of updates are a little bit longer at the moment, but my dear beta-reader is very busy with helping her son and his family to move to another location (thank-you that you, despite being pressed in time edit my chapters, Cheetah!), and I've a lot to do in my shop. Yet I hope the interest in the story remains (uh, not one review this time – after the sad good-bye of John and Tiger-Lily and all the discussions, lies and thoughts between the Darlings and Ashford? *Laugh*)
Well, this time there is 'dragon-action', the former Lost Boys, the two brothers and the pirates say good-bye to Neverland, Mary voices her suspects, Bumblyn eavesdrops Ashford and Brynna and then Hook gets a few shocks as he learns about the 'modern' time and the changes in London. And you, dear readers, will learn how and why he came to Neverland in the first place.
Have fun
Love
Yours Lywhn / Starflight
Chapter 38 – History Lessons
Peter woke up feeling as if he'd been run over by a horde of trolls. He was thirsty, he was cold and dizzy, and the inside of his elbow on his left arm was on fire. Opening his eyes, he became aware of the headache. Had someone clubbed him with a mace?
Setting his jaw against the pain, he raised his head and looked around, finding he was still in the cell they'd locked him in. Another torch burned on the wall beyond the cell door, a jar of water and a tray with food were placed beside him and he was covered with a woolen blanket. Lifting his arm and pushing back the jumper sleeve he found a bandage, and then he remembered. That witch – Lunette – had sliced his arm and had caught his blood until he … fell asleep. And now he felt weak and so cold as if he were lying in the snow.
The last time he had fallen asleep in snow – weakened by the warlock's dark magic – Hook had found and warmed him, despite their mutual animosity. Which made him remember hearing the captain shouting as if from afar that the witch should stop what she was doing – that she was taking too much! And hadn't he seen the captain's eyes for a moment glaring in the shadows of the cell?
No. He must have been out of his head. Hook was dead, and he – Peter – was drowning. He loathed to admit it, but he was in deep trouble. The witch got what she wanted and didn't need him anymore. So the viscount could get rid of him, and instinct told Peter that he wouldn't like any solution Ashford came up with.
Peter groaned as all this thinking and remembering worsened his headache. Drinking most of the water, he lay down again, piling the blanket and the straw around him like an animal in its den. Maybe he would feel better after another sleep, which came almost instantly.
*** PP *** PP ***
Encased in his velvet cape, Hook stood less than an hour later on the bridge and peered out at the large shadows surrounding his ship. The enormous, scaled bodies were only visible because of the light of the hundreds of fairies surrounding the Jolly Roger … and the dragons. That the ice firmly held their weight showed how thick it had become. It also confirmed that there was no other choice except Nib's outrageous plan. And Hook didn't like it. Not. One. Bit!
It seemed his crew shared his opinion. They were wearing every piece of clothing they owned, and stood on the deck, warming themselves at the raised fire bowls on deck, grumbling quietly that "th' Cap'n must'a lost 'is senses." For once Hook ignored their complaining, shivering from more than the cold as he beheld the monsters.
Too damned close …!
Nibs and Slightly also arrived on deck with Tink. Both boys grinned as they called, "The dragons know what to do. You'll see, any moment now, we're free."
"Hm, free t' go t' hell," Mason mumbled, still wearing the sling.
The ship shivered as one of the dragons drew near. Of course it was Ayden, his head at the same level as the main deck. Craning his neck, the dragon lord peered at the one-handed man. "If not for my son, your ship would be ash," he growled.
"If not for me, your son and all the other younglings would die," Hook retorted. "Or do you really think you would survive in this winter if Peter doesn't return?"
It was a typical clash of egos of two stubborn alpha males, pausing to squabble even now.
"Can you two drop it for once?" Niam advanced through the snowfall, her white dress and the cape looking like snowflakes, voice magically amplified. "Lord Ayden, thank you for your help," she spoke to the red dragon, then turned towards Hook. "My fairies are ready. As soon as the ice around your ship thins and breaks, they will raise the Jolly Roger into the air."
"Hopefully in one piece," Hook muttered.
Tink and Aurora shook their tiny heads. Such pessimism! Kailen stood on the wheel, curious but also excited; Esteban appeared with a 'pop' by the wall of the quarterdeck, looking unhappy.
For most of the crew, it was almost eerie as fairies launched into the riggings, waiting their signal. Ayden gave Hook a last fierce glance. "Think of your promise, mortal, or you and this island are going to regret it!" Then he turned away and roared loud enough to make the planks quiver, spread his wings and took the air; creating a windstorm.
"As if it wasn't windy enough," James complained, pulling the cape closer. Then he gasped as the first flames lit the night around them. "Here we go. Woe to you if you burn down my ship, you winged gecko! Then I'll make boots from your skin!"
"They would be very large boots, amigo," Esteban commented quietly, watching the dragons begin their operation.
One by one, the beasts launched into the air, and described a wide circle clockwise around the galleon. Ayden then led them low over the ice, and with the deafening sound of several blast furnaces, exhaled golden red flames across the frozen surface. The others followed his path as the crew and the boys nearly grew dizzy watching their progress around and around the ship. Soon vapor mixed with the snow in the path they were describing, the flames glowed in the mist like tiny sunrises.
"Well there's somethin' y' don' see ever' day," mumbled Chas Turley, who rarely said anything without a complaint.
The boys gasped in delight at the demonstration of perfected flight accompanied by roars, fireworks and the heat. "Look!" shouted Curly, pointing at the frozen surface. "It's working!" The pirates peered over the gunwales at the ice surrounding them, seeing the path of blue-green water beneath the shell still covering it.
"It's really workin'," Mason mumbled.
"Shiver me timbers!" Mullins gasped.
"Tha's impressive!" Akeele grinned; his white teeth standing out against his black skin.
Hook watched their path closely as they flew higher in tandem and then reversed direction, circling counter-clockwise now, and expelling flames in the other direction. All could smell the fuel that generated the flames in the enormous beasts; it smelled foreign, but not bad; organic. There was a crack like thunder as the ship shifted in the thawing ice.
Hook ran his hand over his lips. He yearned for the moment this 'ring around the rosy' game was won. On the outside he appeared calm, but he tensed inwardly with every burst of fire.
Suddenly the Jolly Roger jerked and straightened as the ice no longer held her. The bulwarks groaned, the yardarms tossed, snow and pieces of ice dropped on deck as the ship regained her proper position.
"She floats!" Tootles shouted, bending over the railing. Most of the crew and boys cheered in celebration.
"Hurrah!" a few of the crew screamed in union.
James went to the railing at the side and looked down, too. And sure enough, he saw the thinned ice breaking away from the ship; the galleon was afloat now. Hook couldn't help the little smirk that appeared.
Then the fairies went to work. Hook had given no order, but hundreds of tiny hands began to drop the sails, while uncounted little wings began to flutter. Golden dust rained down on sails, ropes, masts and yardarms, deck, bowsprit, figurehead; other fairies dusted the exterior with more golden shimmer. It seemed to them all the galleon had never looked so proud nor so glorious before. The weight of the huge galleon was now a memory.
Niam appeared in front of the captain; her beautiful face was almost solemn. "So, this is our good-bye, James Hook. For many lifetimes your ship sailed Neverland's waters, now the bow of your ship will taste the familiar waters of home again. I hope you find the happiness that was denied you so long."
Surprised by these kind and dignified words, he swept off his hat and bowed elegantly. "Madame, for a long time this island was my prison, then it became a home. Thank you for your aid when we needed it. May your trees always be green and your flowers always bloom … as soon as Peter returns."
Niam nodded gracefully. "May you always have wind in your sails and a handbreadth of water under your keel, Captain." Then she turned to Tinker Bell and Aurora. "Be careful in the Outer World. It has changed much. Tinker Bell, you have only visited a few hours at a time with Peter. Be vigilant – and bring success and honor to our folk." Then to Kailen, who promptly slipped off his pointed beanie. "I spoke with Laird Gagdh, your king, this morning. He said that members of your folk still live in the fields and meadows south of London. If you need help, seek old yews."
Kailen bowed deeply. "Valuable advice you give me. Thanks to you, Mum."
Niam smiled at him and flew to the Lost Boys, who watched her wide-eyed. "For a brief moment, this was your home. But your time here has ended. May you find joy and fulfillment, and may your memories of Neverland and your victories here give you joy, boldness and courage in the world beyond here." She turned to depart as the boys waved and called their good-byes. Niam flew into the heights; her white-silver-golden light becoming one with the snow and the sails, then she vanished.
Another groan of stressed wood went through the Jolly Roger and her bow lifted into the air. Then the keel of proud galleon left the water and the large sails billowed. The dark skull with the crossed cutlasses on the mainsail – Hook's personal symbol – were fully unfurled as the ship took a ride on the wind's back, nearly light as a circus balloon, and rose into the sky.
The boys ran to the railing to get one last look at the island. The Black Castle was momentarily recognizable; John thought he might even be seeing Tiger Lily waving to them; then the castle seemed to melt into the cliffs it was built on. The four dragons flew aloft, their large wings carrying them easily while they flanked the ship as if accompanying it to Neverland's borders. Ayden looked over; his large eyes reflecting the golden light of the many, many fairies. "Be safe! Be well! Success! Send my son home!" he shouted, then he changed direction and descended; the others followed him. It was clear that this was their last good-bye. The older boys and the captain looked at each other, recognizing the blessing of the magical beasts.
All aboard took a deep breath as they glanced down again. Beneath them they could see Neverland's mountains and woods – dark shadows between the whirling snow. Then the Jolly Roger flew higher and higher, straight into the clouds. A last glimpse of the island's contours, a last view of the sea, a last peek at the Mountain-of-No-Return-No-More, then the night swallowed everything.
The former Lost Boys and the two brothers looked at each other; knowing that they not only left Neverland forever but also left their childhoods behind.
*** PP *** PP ***
The Darlings left the manor early that evening. To her parents' dismay, Wendy hadn't wakened once. They were silent for most of the return drive, both lost in their thoughts. Mary was convinced that something was very wrong with Dalton's story. She felt deep in her heart that they should have taken Wendy along home with them. She knew her daughter had to be suffering emotional anguish, remembering Wendy's reaction when she realized that she had agreed to being courted – by Dalton Ashford no less. Yes, the young viscount had risked a lot for her, and he seemed to be in love with her, but Mrs. Darling was a very sensible and sensitive woman. She knew that something was amiss.
And those men who had assisted the viscount, they were an odd lot! Mary didn't trust them and would "not want to meet them in a dark alley," as she'd heard her friends characterize an unsavory person. And the man who had been attacked by some kind of wild animal and now suffering a fever? Not once had the boys or Wendy related stories of dangerous animals on the island. Not once had one of the children been hurt – but this man? And that Brynna Lunette … she maintained the pose of a kindly elder, the typical housekeeper in the household, but there was something about the Welsh woman, a feeling or an aura around her that unsettled Mary.
Her husband looked at the situation from a completely different, masculine angle. He was glad – grateful even – that Wendy would stay in Surrey until the holidays were over and she returned to Roedean. "You'll see, Mary dearest, all that fresh air, the manor to explore and a loving young man at her side who will distract her, you couldn't ask for a more ideal situation!" he said as they drove through Guildford northward to London along the street that later would be a highway with the bland designation A3.
"She needs time to herself, to mourn," Mary answered. "And, please recall, the viscount wants to return to Neverland on Wednesday to get our sons and Slightly – he and the other men."
"Thank God and His infinite mercy!" George exclaimed. "Millicent was a terror on the phone when I told her that Wendy was back, but not the boys. It took me some time to calm her down. I do hope with all my heart that Ashford will be able to get the boys and that we can close the book on this blasted 'Neverland' for all time!"
Even if Mary understood her husband's concerns for all their boys, her main concern lay with her eldest. "Wendy will be alone with that Miss Lunette and the maid during this … second rescue mission. Can you honestly believe that this is a good 'distraction' for her – knowing Dalton is back in Neverland, the place she loves, while she remains alone with those two strangers in a strange house, grieving for a friend who died on that island only moments before she returned?"
George had the urge to roll his eyes. Women loved to create problems where there were none! At least in his book. "The sooner Wendy accepts that this … this childish obsession is past, the better. And concerning some distraction for her: I heard already this afternoon that Victoria might keep her company. Victoria would surely take Wendy's thoughts off all the evil news, and the two girls can travel together back to Roedean when the holidays are over."
Mary had the urge to pinch him. Hard. Men! She knew he was not as uncaring as he pretended just now. But why did he hide behind a wall of uncharacteristic nonchalance, when sensitivity and sympathy were necessary? On top of that, he seemed to have forgotten one important thing. "That doesn't fit, George. The viscount told you that Victoria received invitations for the week after Easter that she and her aunt will have to accept. But Victoria wrote in her Easter greeting card that she would love to visit Wendy after Easter when she feels better and that we could contact her at any time."
George Darling prided himself on being a safe driver, so he kept his eyes on the road, missing the distressed expression on Mary's face. (It was beginning to rain again and so he had to activate the windscreen wiper, a new addition to motorcars.) "Victoria sent an Easter card?" he asked confused. (Sending greeting cards was a popular habit in Great Britain. Most of them were little works of art, yet he couldn't understand why a small piece of card stock with pictures could elicit such outbursts of joy from women.)
"Yes. I showed you yesterday," Mary replied, also watching the road. The two bright lamps of the motorcar only reached about ten yards down the road, and she was glad that it wasn't fully dark yet. It came into her mind that, just like the situation they found themselves in, nothing was clear. She shook her head. "I don't like it, George. Dalton said his cousin is too busy to visit the manor, but she wrote to us that she would visit Wendy 'any time'. Then Wendy supposedly sleeps through a shooting in which the captain is murdered, and-"
"Mary, strange things happen – especially on that accursed island," her husband interrupted her, releasing the wheel long enough to pat her hand. "And concerning Victoria: Perhaps she accepted a few invitations after she realized that Wendy is 'too ill' to receive visitors. Don't worry, my dear, everything will be fine!"
'Oh, George, it's indeed easier for you!' Mrs. Darling thought with rising concern. 'But just for you. I will pursue this. Something is wrong here. And I think it's getting worse!'
*** PP ***
Brynna Lunette had looked in on Russell, who still suffered a high fever and whose iridescent scales now covered his entire arm and hand. Her research on his problem produced no remedies, and Hutchings had found nothing the evening before either.
The professor had risen from his drugged sleep half an hour ago, blaming his somnolence and his thudding headache on some potion Brynna must have slipped into his tea. It was true, but Lunette objected to the accusation and suggested that he'd caught something in Neverland and now suffered with it.
Despite the headache and stomach upset, he intended to look after the boy, to make sure that the viscount had put the youth into one of the guestrooms. Lunette congratulated herself that she'd been able to put more sleeping drops into the water she'd ordered Olivia to take upstairs to Hutchings ten minutes later. Of course, Archibald didn't suspect the maid with the carafe of water and drank it, only to fall asleep again nearly immediately. Dalton thought it better to keep the professor "out of their hair" while Peter Pan was still in the house, and the same applied to Miss Darling.
Lunette looked in on the girl after she had attended to Russell and found her waking up. Helping the girl to the bathroom and offering her some water and a light dinner after her bath, she stayed until Wendy fell back asleep. As she covered the young woman with the comforter, Dalton knocked and entered.
"Is she asleep?" he asked, glancing at Wendy, and Lunette nodded.
"Yes. She will remain so until the late morning tomorrow. There should be no more drugs after this. Her blood pressure is down, given how dizzy and disoriented she was during her walk to the lavatory." She pointed at the dinner, barely touched. "She also has no appetite."
Dalton sighed, sitting next to the sleeping form; unaware of the Hobgoblin still hiding beneath the bed. "I know," he said softly. "I didn't want to upset her additionally by telling her of the boy's presence here." He glanced up at his former nanny. "Fulsom called ten minutes ago. He spoke with the director of this orphanage. Twenty-five pounds and he takes the boy without any questions."
"Twenty-five pounds?" Lunette snorted. "Greedy bloke." (Author's note: that would be approx. £ 3807 today)
Shrugging, the viscount patted his perfect hair. "I rather pay the price and get rid of the little cretin without being forced to take drastic action to prevent him coming back to avenge his pirate friend." He sighed. "Fulsom will be by early tomorrow morning to pick up the brat. I'll give him a letter to the director I've written and the twenty-five pounds. And then, bye-bye, Peter Pan."
Under the bed, Bumblyn ground his teeth and turned red, fighting to stay quiet. If only he could give this nasty mortal the payback he deserved …!
"One less problem," Lunette nodded. "But I don't think this one will be less troublesome than the boy." She looked down at Wendy. "She didn't say much, but I doubt you will ever have a chance with her again."
He waved it off. "Give it time. Tomorrow she will certainly suffer aftereffects from the sleeping drops, and I will be there for her. And after, when she recovers, she will see reason. At least, I hope so." He rose. "Try to make her happy tomorrow, or at least see that she doesn't suffer when she wakens. Hopefully, she'll come around after Fulsom leaves with the boy." He rose, stopping at the door. "How is he doing, by the way?"
"Well, he fares as well as anyone with blood loss, but he is young and strong, so I don't expect any trouble. He ate the food we placed beside him midday, and when I checked on him half an hour ago, he slept."
Ashford nodded. "Good. Even though he's a troublesome urchin, I do not wish him evil. Well, not much evil. He's a child, after all," he smirked. (Here Bumblyn bit off a loud multisyllabic curse.)
"A child raised by the Fae," the old Welshwoman pointed out.
'No idea have you, witch, as to the trouble the Fae will give you and the bad man when learn they will what you did to Peter!' Bumblyn thought; large round eyes narrowed.
Dalton chuckled. "Lighten up, Brynna. You'll see, tomorrow he'll be gone, the dragon will soon hatch and I will win Wendy. And when I get the boys back, then we'll never hear anything from Neverland ever again – not from the Fae, not from the boy, not from Shalford!"
Oh how wrong his predictions!
*** PP *** PP ***
Hook felt very uncomfortable and somewhat out-of-place as he stood on the bridge of the Jolly Roger. Wherever he looked, he saw stars, larger and clearer, more numerous than ever before; above and beneath, left and right – they seemed to be everywhere. Stars and endless darkness. There was no horizon, no earth, no waves. Nothing. They were flying – yes, flying - through nothingness. And he hadn't the vaguest idea how the fairies knew in which direction they needed to go.
And he could almost swear those stars were pointing at him and laughing! But that couldn't be true, could it?
Herbs was still at the helm, but he had nothing to steer. If the ship really had to alter its course, the fairies would handle it, yet he felt more grounded having his hands on the wheel.
Smee remained near his captain, somewhere between terrified and elated. He had stopped wondering about their whereabouts and accepted it as a fact. They were flying through the stars, so what? He had seen so many miracles since they'd arrived in Neverland that this should not shake him.
The boys were down on the main deck together with the rest of the crew. None even considered sleep. For the pirates, it was the first time they'd ever flown through the skies; for the boys it would be the last time. Dark Owl sat cross-legged near the main mast on the deck, wrapped in his blanket, head high, eyes closed. Hook suspected the young seer was experiencing the trip on an entirely different level than the rest of them. Perhaps he considered this journey a way to grow closer to the Great Spirit. Perhaps he was praying. If he was praying, there would surely be answers at the end of this celestial voyage.
Finally, some time later, weariness had caught up with them. They all were tired for different reasons. The crew hadn't slept recently because of the repairs to the Jolly Roger; and the boys hadn't slept because those repairs had been too noisy. Hook had had visions which hadn't let him sleep; John was lovesick; and Smee's age demanded shut-eye more often.
After the hourglass was turned the tenth time after they left Neverland – which meant that they had been on their way for five hours – Hook waved a yawning John, Nibs and Slightly up to the bridge, asking them how long the flight would last. While the boys had made this journey before, their answers were less satisfying. "It lasts as long as it lasts," Slightly shrugged. John recalled, "The first time we came back in the middle of the night and the second time at the early morning." James sighed, no better informed than before.
Nibs, the planner, cleared his throat. "We'll have to decide where we'll come ashore." As the others looked at him, he added, "We can't just drop out of the sky. When Peter anchored the Jolly Roger near Big Ben during our first return to the Mainland, the fog was thick and no one could really see us. Then he and Tink flew home. This time the shiprequires a real berth. After all, Captain Hook and his men want to stay in London for a few days or longer. And you can't hide a ship this large somewhere upstream."
"I suggest we anchor her as near at our destination as possible," Hook muttered. "Where do you live?"
"Bloomsbury," John and Nibs said in union.
"Bloomsbury?" The ship's commander looked dubious. "There are only farms, some hunting fields, a manor and -"
"Well now it's in the middle of London," Slightly interjected.
Hook frowned. "What?" All three boys nodded. Rubbing his forehead, James thought about the many changes that he had missed, then he turned toward his quarters. "Come with me," he ordered. The boys didn't mind being in the closed space. In the sea of stars, there seemed to be no temperature, yet they felt cold. And, joining them, Smee shivered as he closed the door and went to the baroque heater made of metal to stoke the fire. Kailen, now sleeping by one of the windows, looked up, waved at them, yawned, rolled over, and continued to snore. Tink and Aurora were outside assisting the other fairies to carry the Jolly Roger through the star-filled emptiness to the Mainland.
Hook took the maps from his desk, finding the one he wanted. Unrolling the chart, he spread it over his desk, weighing down its corners. The boys gasped when they looked at the huge document, recognizing it as a very old map of London. At least half of the city they knew was missing. There was the narrowed river loop in the east; there was the large bow to the west where Westminster Abbey and the House of Parliament were located now, but all they could see were the London Tower, St. James Palace and the streets around them – a few were familiar but small, others were unknown to them. And there was only one bridge that crossed the Thames to the west of the Tower, nothing more.
"Oh my," Slightly whispered; forgetting how sleepy he was. "Three quarters of it is missing, I would calculate."
"Where is the Westminster Bridge, Southwark Bridge, Waterloo Bridge and the Blackfriars Bridge?" John murmured, who always had been fascinated with bridges and street names and directions.
"Well, the Tower Bridge wouldn't be on this map, it was opened only fifteen years ago, but the Lambeth Bridge … Uh, no, that was opened 1862, I think," Nibs thought aloud; scratching his head.
Hook stared at them. "How many bridges are there now?" he asked, astonished. He only knew of one: London Bridge.
"A lot," Slightly nodded seriously, "yet still not enough for all the traffic."
Nibs, also perusing the map closely, reached for the quill that stood beside the paperweight in an inkpot. "May I?" he asked Hook, who nodded without knowing for what the boy asked his permission. A minute later he knew. Peter's former strategist sketched in the new bridges along the river, writing the names beside them.
Smee had finished with the stove and moved to the group at the desk, swallowing a yawn. Looking down on the map, he murmured, "Wha' else's new?"
The three boys grinned. "A lot," Slightly deadpanned. "Too much to go over now."
"The Jolly Roger could anchor near London Bridge," John mused, happy to set aside the pain in his heart, and concentrating on the task. "That's the closest she can get to Greater London. Upstream the bridges are too low for the ship."
"No good." Nibs shook his head. "If she needs to shove off quickly, it would have to be when the Tower Bridge is open, and she would have to anchor close to the customs office. I'm sure the customs officer would demand duty."
"Any cargo would be checked by a harbormaster at port," Slightly pointed out, "but the ship would be trapped between London Bridge and Tower Bridge. And the latter opens only two or three times a day." He tapped on the map to the left of the Tower. "I agree, this is not a good location if the Jolly Roger has to leave in haste – for whatever reason."
"Yes," Nibs nodded slowly. "And we need to consider the ship's draft. The Thames is a tidal river, after all, and a seven-yard tidal range is a thing you can't ignore." He glanced at a flabbergasted Hook, who was still looking at all the bridges now crossing the Thames. "What's your ship's draft?" he asked.
"Empty, approximately six or seven yards, and loaded eight yards," James heard himself answering; still trying to absorb how large the city had grown since he left England.
The three boys looked at each other. "Uh-oh, then she could anchor in the Royal Docks or the West India Docks," Slightly thought aloud. "They would be deep enough."
"But they demand a port charge there, I heard," Nibs challenged. "Those docks are the busiest now – and need has its price. Also, we would be farther away from Bloomsbury. It looks to me like there's only one anchoring berth to recommend." He tapped his index finger just east of the Tower Bridge, where a church and a few other large buildings were sketched. "Here, at St. Katherine Docks. They offer deep pools, too, and the next railway and Tube stations are not far away."
"An' if we anchor th' ship farther outside o' London – 'ere fer example?" Smee suggested and pointed to the narrowed river loop in the east that created a peninsula.
"Outside London?" Slightly asked wryly. "The Isle of Dogs is one of the main ports now. The West India Docks and Millwall Dock are at that location. There are giant water filled basins connected by canals."
"It's the same on the south-side of the Thames," Nibs explained. "London port from the Isle of Dogs upstream until the Tower Bridge isn't called 'the pool' for nothing."
"Yeah, and downstream to the east there are the Royal Docks, which are even larger than those of the West India Company and are connected to the railway system," Slightly added; pointing at the northside of the river to the right of the loop around the peninsula.
"There … were only woods and a few small dwellings the last time I was there," James said quietly, astonishment still the main expression on his face.
"Like I said: London has grown," Slightly grinned.
"There are shipyards on both sides of the Thames until London Bridge, warehouses for imports and exports, offices of shipping companies, wharfs, piers…" John's listing was interrupted by Nibs.
"They have even their own railways now, trams, the Tube, boulevards … You can live in the middle or in the outer quarters of London and get to your daily work at the ports by simply using the railways, Tube or the omnibus."
John continued with the briefing: "The port structures end at London Bridge. To the west you'll find many, many shops, parks and banks. Finally, here, at Westminster Bridge and Lambeth Bridge, is the government district," he explained. "The city really has grown," he agreed, shaking his head.
'So, things have changed since I fled England. Not that much, mind you!' Hook thought sarcastically and felt a headache coming on. He pinched his nose. "And how much has it 'grown' by now? What is the population?" he asked, sure he did not want to know the answer.
"Well, at present, nearly eight million citizens," John replied.
"WHAT?" The captain stared at him, eyes large as saucers. "Eight million citizens? In my time there were two million, an unbelievable number of people." He saw John shrugging and smiling apologetically, but not renouncing his declaration. James shook his head. "Wendy's told me about the new inventions and … and some of the changes, but this …" Gulping, he turned away. "I need a rum."
The three boys looked at each other, amused, sympathetic, determined, then Slightly said, "No, sir. What you need is a history lesson!"
Nodding thoughtfully, Hook visited the humidor and, instead of the rum, took out two cigars. "Proceed."
*** PP ***
An hour (or more … who knows?) later, there was a layer of haze in the cabin, the cigar had burned to an inch or two, and Hook and Smee had been briefed about the most important events worldwide over the last two hundred years, whatever the boys could recall from their schooling. The two men's minds were abuzz with all the information, and James was certain that his head would explode if he didn't get some fresh air soon. Yet he was convinced that there were hundreds more details the boys hadn't mentioned so far, but this was no matter. The amount of knowledge he had gathered over such a short time was something he first had to absorb.
They had sat down at the dining table during the talk and Hook had given them an atlas which the boys used to show the two men new or changed borders, countries, towns, etc. Now the captain returned to his desk where he looked down at the map with Nib's notes on it. As fascinating as the history lesson was, it was more important to make decisions regarding their upcoming mission. "Alright, we should consider anchoring in this dock near London Tower you spoke of, Master Nibs," he said, tapping the point of his metal claw on the map.
"As Nibs said earlier, we can't just drop out of the sky," John mumbled, trying not to yawn. A soft snore to his left said that Smee had finally succumbed.
"It would be best if we land somewhere outside of London to the east and sail up the Thames," Nibs said, thinking aloud.
"If we have an east wind, then nothing speaks against it, otherwise we would need pilot boats to pull the Jolly Roger against the Thames' current," Hook murmured. "But, if there is decent fog in London, then we might indeed simply 'drop' out of the sky. It would simplify our travel." He rubbed his chin with his left hand, lost in thought, possibly making a wish. "How far does London spread to the east?"
Nibs went over to the desk. "I don't think your map shows that far," he said and bent over the desk only to nudge one of Hook's books holding the map in place. It dropped to the floor. "Sorry, Captain," Nibs said, bending down to retrieve the book that had fallen open. Lifting it, he had a quick peek at the handwritten lines and realized what it was. "Is this … one of your logbooks?" he asked curiously.
James didn't even look. "Aye, one I wrote before we landed in Neverland."
Pressing his lips together, Nibs pursued an idea. "We'll need an explanation as to where we came from, why we're in London, how you got a two hundred-year-old galleon."
"How could logbooks help?" Hook asked.
The boy looked at him as if he had asked a very stupid question. "Captain, you wear 18th century clothes, your men are the image of the typical pirate in the old books. Your style of ship hasn't been built for more than 160 years, and it's fully functional! The cannons are operational, and you fly the black flag – which you're going to have to take down, by the way. You don't want that kind of attention." He raised his eyebrows sarcastically, and when he saw Hook's sour face, he continued, "I've something already in mind for the harbor authorities and the citizenry, but this might help with the plan." He held up the logbook in his hands.
James simply shrugged, "If you want to read it, be my guest. It's original history, not what you'll hear in school." Nibs grinned and the three boys went to the settee. Hook turned to the map again. What had Niam said? That the world he once knew had changed? Typical fairy understatement!
Nibs skimmed the logbook, read a few entries concerning Hook's last trip to Nassau, then the fate of Woodes Rogers, his meeting with Vane, Blackbeard, Barbeque, Red Ned, and the other pirate captains and finally his escape. And what he and the others read seemed like an adventure novel …
'28th July 1718, 4 bells into the afternoon watch [two PM, note of the author] – The sea is unsettled. First clouds on horizon south-west promise nothing good. Short Tom is nervous, feels something coming, no doubt. Freshening wind might help to escape our pursuer. Akeele lost sight of them around midday, but am not convinced that they gave up. The Royal Navy never gives up.'
'6 bells into the afternoon watch, addendum – Lookout reported two sails at the horizon behind us. I knew they wouldn't give up. 24th July we escaped that damned Woodes Roger in Nassau, together with a few others of our guild, but Navy still after us. Still don't know if Vane and Teach made it, if they could outpace their hunters. The new sloops and frigates are quicker than our ships. I ordered additional sails, our course continues north-west. Weather might give us the essential advantage.'
'29th July 1718 – past midnight. All lights out for hours, curtains closed at my windows. Only one candle for this entry. Navy still on our trail. Clouds have caught up, wind growing. I fear a storm is coming, hopefully not a hurricane. Ordered hatches battened and set a new course straight north, the Bermuda Triangle. Carpenter Mullins voiced protest. Bad things happen there, he said, but I can't consider the foolish prattle of a suspicious crewmember. We have to escape the Navy or we all will hang.'
'29th July 1718, 2 bells into the middle watch [5 AM, note of the author] – wind is increasing. No doubt an approaching hurricane. God have mercy on us.
'2 bells into the last dog watch, addition [19 AM, note of the author] – Most perilous hours of my life. Winds caught us late morning with full strength. The world seemed to contain only pouring water, clouds, flashes and thunder. Two men washed overboard despite the storm-wires stretched along the main deck – may the Lord save their souls. Three men injured from falling rigging. Bilge, storage rooms and rope store are half filled, pumps at work; seem to be no leaks. Wind slowing, worst is behind – the Royal Navy. May they enjoy Davy Jones' locker.'
'30th July 1718, 6 bells into the afternoon watch [3 PM, note of the author] – I consigned the Navy to hell a bit too soon. My dear late brother once said: "Never praise the day before the evening is past." The two sloops still following and nearer than thought. Respect to their captains, they know their job. Only the best can outsail a hurricane, but their victory might mean our deaths. If they continue, they'll board us around midnight.'
'4 bells into first watch, addition [10 PM, note of the author] – Noticed something in the night sky which finally cleared. One of the stars is brighter, never noticed before. It's the second to the right from the moon. Mullins thinks it's a wishing star. For once I wish Mullins was right. If there is something like a wishing star, it would be our only rescue, because the Navy is nearly in range. Against reason, I hope – I pray – that the old stories of 'wishing stars' are real. If so, then take us away, little twinkling light. Take us away before we all dy.'
'30th/31st July 1718, 8 bells, end of first watch (midnight) – Caribbean never ceases to surprise me. A baffling fog appeared and we again lost sight of our pursuers. Herbs, on watch, reported its arrival from above, from the direction of the moon, and ship is completely surrounded. Akeele reported seeing green lights in the waves. I believe him. Our African is not superstitious like Mullins. I ordered a new course west, to the Carolinas. Possible refuge in North Carolina. Gouverneur Eden is a business-partner of mine and Teach. If someone can help us to keep a low profile for a few months, then it's he.'
End of entry of the third log-book.
Nibs pursed his lips. Gouverneur Eden … He had heard about him at school. (Unsurprisingly, Nibs had practically devoured every book in the school and public libraries about pirates and the sea.) Charles Eden had been corrupt through and through and had made deals with pirates for many years. Even those like Blackbeard and Vane, and evidently, Hook, had been welcomed in secret. Looking up from the real-life adventure outline in his lap, he saw that Hook had sat down at his desk and fallen asleep; head on his arms. No wonder; the man had looked ready to drop where he stood.
Sighing, Nibs closed the logbook, and looking about, he found John and Slightly sleeping, too. Sighing, Nibs rose, went to the desk, placing the logbook next to its mate, and quietly left the cabin; the background story for the arrival of a two-hundred-year-old pirate ship in London's pool forming in his head, taking shape, and making him smile.
Waving at Herbs, still at the helm, he walked to bridge's rail and glanced down on the main deck. Most pirates were asleep, Dark Owl had rolled himself into his blanket beside the mainmast and the other boys were certainly resting in hammocks and bunks beneath the deck. Tink appeared next to him, looking tired and a bit tousled. Offering her his palm, she settled, and he asked, "Are we there yet?"
Tink jingled, pointing over the starboard side. Walking over to the railing, Nibs' eyes widened, seeing the movements of waves beneath them. English Channel? North Sea? "Are we back?" he wanted to know. The fairy nodded and jingled. "East of England?" His thoughts dashed about in quick circles. "Tink, is the sky over England clear or cloudy? Any fog?" He knew she'd already reconnoitered near the land. "A few clouds but no fog," he repeated, pursed his lips and lifted his hand to his mouth. Wetting his finger he stretched the arm into the heights, asking, "England is starboard?" When she nodded, he made a decision, one he should discuss with the ship's captain, but he wanted to let the man rest. They'd already talked about it and Nibs didn't think Hook had changed his mind.
"Tink, tell the others to set the ship on the sea just beyond the horizon. We'll have to sail to the coast and up the Thames to avoid suspicion."
Scratching her head, Tinker Bell realized what he meant and nodded. Before she took off, he whispered, "And Tink, ask a few of your friends to bring the flag down from there." He flipped a thumb back over his shoulder toward the top deck. "We can't sail in these waters under the black flag." Tink grinned, saluted Peter's master planner, and shot up into the riggings to make her request. Nibs heard them giggling among themselves.
Herbs left the helm, secured it with two ropes and strolled towards Nibs. "What be yer plan, lad?" he asked quietly, glancing at the main deck at his sleeping companions.
Nibs took a deep breath and told him what the four of them had discussed, the approach of the Jolly Roger to modern London, and the current weather.
"So, we sail up th' T'ames?" Allan grimaced. "Ah know naught o' dese wa'ers. I hope th' cap'n has a map o' th' river." He glanced starboard. "An' how far away be th' ship from th' mouth o' th' T'ames?"
"Not sure, but I think that Hook can determine our current position when he sees the coast." He rubbed his sleepless eyes. "I'll wake him soon as the Jolly Roger has water under her keel again."
TBC…
Well, here you got it – a few abstracts of Hook's logbook before he came to Neverland. And this will become very important for him, his crew and the boys, because Nibs constructs a 'past' for him he can present the people and the authorities in London. Believe me, at first he gets a few more shocks (*snicker*).
But now the Jolly Roger is on her way to the Mainland where she (and her crew) will cause some sensations, believe me. And at least Mary gets second thoughts concerning Wendy's 'illness' and Ashford's intentions – after all, a man was killed because of his travel to Neverland (or so she thinks).
In the next chapter, you learn with what Nibs comes up concerning the official explanations for the ship and the crew. Furthermore, this time Wendy gets a vision, she meets Bumblyn again (and learns the truth about James' 'death'), and Fulsom returns to bring Peter to the chosen orphanage…
I hope, you liked the new chapter. There was more going on now, and the next ones will be even better. I would be really happy to get some feedback (you know, it's the 'food for the writer').
Have a nice weekend,
Love you all
Yours Lywhn / Starflight