Hi, my dear readers,
I'm happy to present you now with the beta-read vision of this chapter. It really is smoother to read and a few little things were added, so maybe you will enjoy it more by reading it again.
Still the little warning: There will be a mean cliffhanger at the end (snicker).
Have fun
Yours Lywhn / Starflight
Chapter 22 – Searching and Finding
The sun was lowering as Anders, Hutchings and the other two hunters headed south, triumphant, happy. When they first started, they had occasionally spotted the dragons as their enormous forms threw shadows from above. And finally, after topping a hill, the four men could make out the route the beasts were taking and where they descended. It was below them, a hidden landscape between the first mountain and the flank of the sleeping volcano. It had taken them three hours to locate a pass that led toward the valley. They explored the woods which grew along the mountain flank and found a spot from where they could look down into the valley without arousing the creatures.
Of course, the three hunters were impressed by the many large dragons living there, some sleeping, and … communicating with each other? The most enthusiastic of them was, of course, Archibald Hutchings. With tears in his eyes, heart in his throat, he beheld the impossible creatures, forgetting to even take notes, unwilling to take his eyes off them. They were … beautiful. There was no other word he could find for their appearance. Terrifying, yes, but so very … beautiful! And as Anders quietly had plotted with Alister and Jackson as to how they would distract them to be able to steal an egg from one of the caves, Archibald had felt an unpleasant tugging in his gut.
And as they turned southward to rendezvous with the viscount, that strange feeling increased. They made their way through the Ancient Forest that was now bathed in a soft orange and pink. It smelled of moss, flowers, and rippling brooks, the scent you only find in deep, old woods. And the deeper they moved into the Ancient Forest to cross it, the more they saw the tiny golden lights, darting between the trees and bushes, but never remaining in one place long enough to give the hunters a clear view. All four knew they were being watched by the fairies, concluding what the lights had to be. And the flickering green shadows only seen from the corner of your eye belonged to another of the Little People. They had intuited that much.
They all became aware of a soft tapping sound – quick, then slow, then pausing only to begin again. Puzzled, the four men looked at each other, then proceeded quietly and cautiously toward the noise. They stopped at the edge of a small clearing, surrounded by oaks, beeches, evergreen hollies and elder bushes. Large ferns grew around the edge and there, in front of their still questioning eyes …
He was sitting on a low rock in a circle of low rocks. He wore green breeches, red-striped socks, black shoes with gold buckles and a green doublet; a brown tri-corner hat was pressed on his red hair; they could make out pointed ears. He smoked a short pipe and was skillfully driving nails home into the heel of a little shoe. A small wooden toolbox sat beside him, and on another rock sat a foot tall gnome, waiting for said shoe. A few fairies were in the branches of the bushes, giggling with soft jingling noises.
"A … a leprechaun!" Archibald Hutchings gasped, instantly enraptured as he stared at the small beings, who looked up. While the gnome – an older one with a long grey beard, colorful clothes and a blue pointed cap – stood up and glared skeptically at the four men; the fairies vanished behind leaves. The leprechaun glanced up at them. His green eyes beneath the bushy red eyebrows took in the intruders, and he grumbled, "D' y' need shoe repair?"
While Anders, Alister and Jackson only stared open-mouthed at him – a real Leprechaun! – Archibald remembered his manners and doffed his hat. "Good afternoon, Master Leprechaun. I regret that our shoes are in no need of repair."
"Shame," the bogey murmured, eying the men's feet. "I would 'a' loved to try one of them massive boots o' yours. Well then, good day," he shrugged and turned his attention back to the shoe in question. A robin landed beside to watch him work.
"Beg pardon, could y' point us in the direction o' th' Indian village?" the professor asked; still fascinated by the harmonic nature of the scene. He felt like he'd fallen into one of his childhood dreams, and had to concentrate to stay in the present.
The Leprechaun replied through the nails sticking out of his mouth. "An information? You want an information? That'll cost ya a penny."
Anders sighed, but kept quiet as Hutchings reached into his pocket and handed a coin to the leprechaun. The robin hopped aside, startled by the man's approach, and above them, the fairies suddenly pressed their hands to their noses and flew away. Without taking his eyes from the shoe, the Leprechaun took the coin, tucked it in his pocket, and pointed with his hammer toward the south-east. "Tha' way. Y'll arrive in time f' dinner."
Archibald nodded, "Thank you very much."
"Welcome," the Leprechaun murmured, twisting his expression into a look of distaste. "Please keep y'r distance. Something aboot ye smells fierce bad." Then he returned to his task.
Completely amazed and not at all offended, the professor turned to the others beaming like a child under the Christmas tree. "A real leprechaun!" he whispered. "Good God, nobody in the pub is goin' t' believe this."
"Then don't tell them," Anders replied wryly, eyeing the gnome and the bogey as they continued toward the southeast.
At the next stream, they satisfied their thirst (so clean and fresh as to be startling) and crossed the water when from above, a young voice demanded, "What do you want here in Neverland?"
All four looked up to see a half-grown towheaded boy standing in an oak tree, clad in leaves, strapped to his waist was a knife and a pipe. One of the fairies lingered in the air around him, scattering the bright dust. "This is the child, I presume," Anders murmured.
Peter stared at the four strangers tramping through his forest. He had visited Panther, then told Hook that the strangers had arrived (something Hook already knew) and then flown to the mermaids. The sea had completely changed its character, and they felt 'in their tails' that Neverland was no longer in balance. The extended sunrise had made them anxious, and the clouds were more like a glaze than the cottony puffs they usually enjoyed. They couldn't tell him where the strangers were, or where they had arrived. Then he'd learned from the fairies that strange men were on their way through the Ancient Forest, heading toward the south and 'stank like a load of dead fish.' This information limited the search area, and so he found a few of the Lost Boys who were still watching the portals and sent them back to the Nevertree. John and Michael too, then he hunted the invaders.
A few pixies (who looked greener than usual) and fairies (who looked sick) pointed out where the men were. And given the condition of his tiny friends he discerned that the strangers had something with them that afflicted and repelled the Little People. So, the invaders not only had the nerve to come without an invitation and set Neverland awry, they also made the fairies and the other Good Neighbors sick? 'Just wait until I find you!' Peter growled inwardly. As careless as he normally seemed, the fun and games were over when his friends' health was threatened.
He finally overheard them speaking with the Leprechaun. Wanting to observe first, Peter followed them in secret. None of them looked young, blonde, or grey-eyed – so the ominous 'courter' of Wendy hadn't come! – but they had invaded Neverland. And they were about to start come kind of conflict among the Little People. Peter thought it was about time to make himself known. He landed on the branch and called out to them.
Anders examined the young churl head to toe. He seemed to be under twelve. One could tell he was well-muscled, but the Dane maintained a neutral expression. This boy could be a changeling – or, at least, someone raised by fairies and hardly human anymore. There were legends in his home country, too, of these beings; warnings about people who had lived too long with the fairies and would betray their own race to them. And seeing that the child was clad like one of the little demons who flew beside him, he felt instantly alerted. "We are searching for our friends," Anders carefully answered the boy's question. "We were separated and now we are searching for them." That was a half-truth. That they had separated for other purposes was kept to himself.
"So, there are more strangers here?" Peter frowned, hands on his hips. He didn't like the sound of it. Grownups meant trouble. .
The Dane lifted his brows. "Yes. Is this a problem?"
"Grownups are not allowed in Neverland," the boy answered with narrowed eyes.
"Says who?" Einar challenged.
"I say this. I'm Peter Pan, the guardian of Neverland. And you, man, are not welcome here. You and your companions."
Before Anders could respond, Hutchings spoke up. "So you're Peter Pan? We heard about you – the protector of children and the prince of this island," he said gently. He was in far too good of a mood to become irritated by a cocky boy.
As you, dear reader, surely know, Peter could be vain – just like his former opponent James Hook – but he wasn't stupid. He could hear manipulation. "If you've heard of me, you also know that I don't allow grownups in Neverland."
"That boy should get the stick," Jackson growled.
"Just try, stupid man," Peter sneered, took the air, and landed on another branch.
"He really can fly," Alister grumbled.
"That tells us he isn't fully human anymore," Anders commented. "Listen, boy," he continued, "I don't care what you allow. You deserve a stout stick across your back, but that's not up to me. We'll finish what we came for and only then do we leave. So, you and that insect, begone! Or I'll do what your parents forgot to do and give you the thorough drubbing you need!"
Peter's eyes were fiery slits now. "So you say!" The next moment, he had hurled himself at the Dane and landed both heels on his jaw, which dropped the man and his rifle. Using Alister's shoulder to push away (thereby sending the man to the ground beside Anders) he attacked Jackson, who ducked and then tripped over the root beside him. Stumbling he crashed and fell with a 'uff' directly into some stinging nettles. The noises he made were … interesting.
Hanging back away from this "discussion," Hutchings lifted both hands, as the boy whirled around towards him. "Mr. Anders, really! This is no way to treat a youth! He defends his home!" He held his hands aloft in surrender as Peter hung before him in the air, glaring daggers at him. "Calm down, lad," Archibald said, "for these three are … without manners."
"Get out!" Peter snarled. "You, these three and the others. Leave Neverland – or you'll regret it." Tink pulled at the vine around his shoulder, pointing at the older man's lanyard. Peter listened, then glowered at the professor. "And I'll take this with me." His hand shot out and yanked hard at the leather lanyard with the pendant made of different plants, ripping it off. "This is making the fairies sick. How dare you to bring it with you!" he snapped, flew to Anders to take his lanyard, but the Dane's hand closed with iron strength around Peter's wrist.
"Gotcha, you damn-" He cried out as Tink, holding her breath, dropped on him and pulled his hair with a force that belied her size. Head jerking back, the sudden intense pain brought tears into his eyes. Peter escaped his fingers, tore the string away from the Dane's neck and headed towards Oscar Alister who had just regained his feet. Peter's attack made the man lose his balance again, and he fell. The root he'd stepped on had been occupied – not by someone but by something: fresh washed small clothes. His dirty boot stepped onto the laundry and the root broke with a crack. The next moment a female gnome came out of the little door hidden in the tree trunk, pouring out her worst rant.
It went something like "Have you no eyes in your head? Stupid human! Just look at my clothes. All clean and now I've to wash them again!" Picking them up, she continued to scold him like a child, ending with, "And you need a bath. You stink like a mile of dead fish!" She vanished into the tree trunk; arms full of wet clothes. With a 'bang' the little door was closed.
That was indeed a mild tongue-lashing for a mother gnome, but it seemed these ignorant humans weren't paying attention. The man just stood there with a stunned and disbelieving expression on his face and an open mouth, staring at the closed door.
"Foolish grownups!" Peter called, and shot up into the air, higher than the treetops. He took the three lanyards with him. "Leave Neverland! All of you! This is your last warning!" he shouted and flew away; Tinker Bell followed him. She spoke again, a bit green around the nose, and Peter nodded. "I know, Tink. They brought these things with them on purpose. Let's get rid of them." Peter flew to the closest river and threw the lanyards in.
The star fairly landed on his shoulder and Peter turned his head, his expression softening. "Are you all right, Tink?" he asked.
She sighed and leaned her head against his cheek, remembering the terrible smell that had enveloped the strangers like a very – very! – rancid perfume. Peter smiled. "Yes, I know, they smell terrible." Lifting one hand, he offered his palm to her and as she fluttered into it, he carefully closed his fingers around his friend, carrying her back towards the Nevertree.
The three hunters had gained their feet, cursing like sailors. Here they were, three very successful trackers and hunters. Defeated by a small boy. It was … embarrassing. Especially when they realized that the only one who hadn't been bested was the professor, who stood there, hands in his pockets, shaking his head.
"Really, gents, thass noo way to 'andle a rebellious child. You only stoke his defiance e'en more. And, if you like it or not, this is his home, and he's right, we're the intruders. So, don't anger him further –"
"Professor, all due respect, but keep your wisdom to yourself," Anders snapped. "The next time I see the brat, he gets the beating he needs! And if the other boys are as troublesome as he, I will advise the viscount to use sedation gas on them. I'll not go back to England the laughingstock for being beaten by children!"
Jackson, who was the only one who still had his lanyard, limped towards him. "Damn, did I get them all?" he asked. Good question, because the stinging nettles had left many red marks on his face and hands.
"Like you had a rendezvous with mosquito colony," Alister noted; rubbing his ankle. "Bloody rascal. Next time I see him he gets slapped 'til his ears ring."
"We should warn the viscount and the others," Anders grumbled. "I think this young scoundrel is capable of using that knife – and more - on him and the others." He shouldered his rifle. "Hurry, men, I think the other group will need some reinforcements should this brat find them."
Ashford and his three companions were indeed about to be found – but not by Peter Pan.
*** PP *** PP ***
While Peter encountered the second group, and the Lost Boys returned to the hideout, the unicorn, Wendy, and her two little friends approached the Indian village. Kailen was not happy. He felt to the tips of his pointed ears that the strange men meant trouble, and there was no way Wendy should talk with them. Yet he knew that he couldn't change her mind. The girl was stubborn, just like a certain boy and a particular one-handed man.
As they neared the camp, Aurora suddenly appeared, waving and tinkling madly. The unicorn stopped and listened carefully to what the rose-fairy had to tell. "The men left the village," she translated. "They went first to the small river, then walked further north and have now stopped." She glanced back at Wendy. "Do you still want to speak with them?"
The girl nodded. "Yes. We must prevent an escalation between them and Peter – or Captain Hook."
The unicorn sighed and gave Kailen a pointed glance. He acknowledged her intent by blinking once. He knew what the Lady wanted him to do. Whispering "Stay with her," to Aurora, he waited until the beast and the rider continued their way, then he flew to the east.
Further into the woods, Wendy bent low over the unicorn's neck and peered between low hanging branches and the tops of bushes into the small clearing. The four men she had searched for were resting on the trunk of a fallen tree, talking quietly. She recognized Dalton Ashford, even in his strange attire. So, he really had come. He really had dared to follow her to Neverland! This thought alone made her angry. This was Peter's home – and her own paradise! – and no-one from the Mainland had a right to pursue her here!
The unicorn felt the girl's reactions, watched the young man, obviously the leader. She could easily see through to the heart of the mortal. Laying her ears back, the unicorn retreated a few steps and turned to put distance between her rider and the strangers. Only when they were out of earshot did she stop. Wendy slid from her back and sat Bumblyn down beside her.
The unicorn said quietly, "The young man with the eyes like smoke, he is the one you desire to speak to?" Wendy nodded. The Lady continued, "This man is about to descend into greed and his new-found power soon. His weak character will surrender to arrogance, jealousy and poor decisions. He is not accustomed to losing, and this will drive him, so be careful. Lasses like you often gain the attention of those with darkness in their souls. You must be strong for all of those who are dear to you."
"All sounds … not good," Bumblyn peeped, his tail wrapping itself around his waist.
Sighing, Wendy looked up to the dancing branches above her. "The boy can't take a hint," she murmured.
The Hobgoblin glanced at his friend. "Let us go before they see or hear us," he urged, pawing at the girl's dress. "Still is time. Let us go and let Peter handle this – or the captain."
Wendy was shaking her head. "I can't," she replied. "This might be the only chance we have for a peaceful solution before Peter or James are forced to act. You know they will surely overreact," she added with a frown.
"Men do not value things achieved with no effort," the unique mare said softly, "so nothing achievable comes easy for them." She fixed the girl with a gaze and added, "I know we cannot stop you. You fought for yourself a few times, you resisted the easy path, stayed true to your dreams and hopes. Do not give up – no matter what others say or expect from you. Follow your heart; listen to your soul and trust your instincts – then you and he who stole your heart will withstand the howling wind with all of its lies and darkness that will soon assault." Lifting her head, the unicorn looked down on Wendy and stepped back. "Be safe."
"This … is good-bye?" the girl gasped in realisation, unwilling.
"Yes," the unicorn nodded. "I will remain until you are safe, but we will not see each other afterwards again."
And Wendy understood. "When I leave Neverland the next time, I will not return?" she whispered.
"That is not in my sight," the unicorn answered, and Wendy simply threw her arms around the broad neck.
"Thank you for coming – and for all your advice. Be well, too, dear one." She rubbed her face in the silky mane of the creature, and felt herself wrapped in its an embrace as the unicorn bent her neck and laid her head against the girl's back.
"I will – as long as there are people who believe in the old ways. And magic." Then she, the essence of light and innocence, stepped back again. The pearlescent horn touched Wendy's forehead and wave of warmth, strength and faith filled her, then the unicorn reared up and was gone in a blink of an eye, melting into the green and gold of the woods.
And Wendy felt the sweet pang of her loss, and the enveloping of the blessing.
She gave herself a moment to mourn, then felt Bumblyn tugging at her dress again. With sympathetic eyes he said softly. "Not to be sad, us you still have – Aurora, Kailen and me. And Peter. And the boys. And …" he nodded, "… and the captain."
This brought a smile to the girl's face. "I know. And I'm so grateful for your friendship. But… an unicorn is extraordinary, and knowing that I will not see her again …" She sighed deeply; feeling the deep honour to meet the creature, an honour very few experience. She swallowed her tears and took a deep breath, straightening. "All right, let's go tell Dalton to go to hell, and then we'll go to the Indian village. It's getting late." She sniffed and wiped her eyes, picked up Bumblyn and walked towards the clearing. Aurora following; feeling with her fairy-senses that trouble lay ahead…
*** PP ***
"WEEEEEENDYYYY!"
This cry echoed from all the boys but brought no results. "This is not right!" John said, hands on his hips. He was looking at the drying clothes hanging over the low branches near the rushing stream. "She promised to stay here-"
"Peter, look here!" Nibs called, pointing to the ground. They had all returned to the Nevertree and met Bonbon and Cushys, who told them Wendy was doing laundry at the water. Only there was no girl in sight. No girl and no Hobgoblin. At Nibs' call, everyone examined the discovery. "Cloven hoofs," he said and crouched down, blue eyes confirming the discovery. "These are clearly tracks of cloven hoofs."
"The unicorn," Slightly concluded. "Wendy went with it – maybe even rode on it. And she took Bumblyn with her."
"But where?" Michael asked, finding more tracks.
"They lead east," Jumper stated.
Bluffer sighed. "The Indian village."
"And the Jolly Roger," Slightly added.
"If she wanted to visit the ship, she would have flown, not ridden the unicorn to the beach," Nibs said logically. "No, I rather think there was another agenda."
"Think that it has to do with the strangers?" Oliver, Twin 1, mused.
"Sure, that sounds like Wendy," Lucas, Twin 2, added. "Either they were here and she escaped on the unicorn's back, or she went to search for them to … to tell them to go away?"
"That does sounds like our Wendy," Curly nodded. "She wants to spare us and them trouble, so she's looking for a peaceful solution."
"But … that's so risky," Runner piped up. "Peter already told them off and they didn't obey."
"They're grownups. Of course they won't listen to a boy – even if he is Peter Pan," Tootles said.
Peter rose. "I'll follow and find Wendy. If this 'courting' fellow is with the second group, she will need help." He launched himself into the air. "Stay here and wait for my signal. Should I need you, I'll send Tink." He gained height and vanished into the twilight of the evening sky, Tinker Bell by his side.
*** PP *** PP ***
Dalton Ashford and his three companions had decided to set up camp in the small clearing on a hillside above the sea. Two tents were pitched, the other two were carried by Ander's group who were still making their way through the woods. Kenley Fulsom had carried the long bundle which now revealed its contents as camp chairs and a camp table. The viscount used one of them, the other men were still preparing their bed things, and Fulsom was busy with starting a fire. It was a very typical English camp scene.
This is how Wendy found them. The nearer she drew to the clearing, the more uneasy she felt. She heard three strange accents talking about dinner. and then the cultivated tones of Dalton Ashford. It was … odd to hear his voice here, in Neverland. It felt very wrong.
Suddenly Bumblyn tugged at her hair, and before she could protest, he gagged, "Terrrrrrible smell here!" Above them Aurora nodded and held her nose.
Wendy paused, sniffing the air. "I don't smell anything," she whispered. The only thing she could smell was the salt sea and the scent of the flowers, but obviously that wasn't what her little friends meant.
"Absinth and… and wormwood," the bogey choked out. She saw he'd grown pale, slapping his hand over his nose. Glancing up at Aurora, Wendy saw that the rose-fairy appeared similarly afflicted.
"It comes from them, right?" she murmured, and as both nodded, she sat Bumblyn down. "Go back a distance," she told them quietly. "I'm sure these men are wearing these plants on purpose! They have to know more about the Little People I gave them credit for." Her eyes narrowed. "And I will give them a piece of my mind concerning it."
When they had retreated, she balled her fists, stood tall and strode into the clearing. Stepping out of the bushes, she was immediately confronted by two muzzles, while the third younger man (he looked familiar) jumped up and grabbed a long stick. An icy calmness came over her. Lifting her chin, she asked in a tone Aunt Millicent would be proud of, "Such bravery to aim weapons at an unarmed gentlewoman." Her eyes were cold as she addressed the surprised viscount, "I'm disappointed, Dalton. Couldn't you find any true gentlemen to accompany you on your little excursion? Or do you usually hire thugs as panicky as little girls?"
Ashford was momentarily astonished at the unexpected appearance of the girl, who, it seemed, suddenly dropped from the skies. Her appearance was startling, as she was lovelier than ever. Her soft skin was a warmer colour, honeyed hair loose about her, soft blue dress in a style unknown in London. She wore a feather woven in the hair at the left side of her head and a dagger hung around her slim waist. "Wendy?" he asked. She rather reminded him of the Lady of the Lake from King Arthur's time than the demure young debutante he had last seen in London at a ball.
"You don't recognize me?" she asked disdainfully. Her gaze darted to the two men with the rifles. "Do you want to use them? Or do you think you might stand a chance without them?"
Finally, Dalton turned to Wickham and Russell and snapped, "For God's sake, lower your weapons!"
"This is the young lady you want to rescue?" Russell asked cautiously. "She could be one of those … changelings or-"
"No, I'm a witch and will transform you all into cockroaches," Wendy answered instead of the viscount, rolling her eyes.
"Mr. Wickham, Mr. Russell, lower your weapons. Mr. Fulsom, put your club away. Miss Darling is only making jokes," Dalton said, and walked towards the girl, smiling. "Wendy, I'm so glad I found you," he said, relieved.
"Not really. I found you," she corrected him coolly, stepping back. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to take you home," he replied honestly. "Your parents-"
"- know that I'm safe in Neverland. At least I was until some unwelcome visitors showed up and created turmoil." Her eyes flashed at him. "How dare you to follow me! How dare you invade Peter's home, risking its safety and that of its peoples!"
"The dragons-" Dalton began.
"Are no danger, as Great Big Little Panther and Chief Rain-in-the-Face certainly told you!" Wendy snapped. "I don't need a self-appointed 'knight in shining amor' to barge into my life-"
"Wendy, you parents are sick with worry!" Dalton interrupted her. "You have no clue what you're dealing with here."
"Oh no, of course a silly little girl like me has no clue! It's only the third time I'm here –"
"Exactly my point!" he said. Dalton turned to his three companions. "Men, please give us some privacy."
Wickham only grinned, as did Russell; Fulsom rolled his eyes. "Told you she's a hellcat," he grumbled, but followed the two hunters, who vanished into one of the tents. Dalton grimaced, before he turned his attention back to the girl. "Wendy, the crux of the matter is that, the more you visit a fairy realm, the more you depend on it. The fairies, they bewitch you until you-"
"Fairies and bogeys do not 'bewitch'. They can get angry, and – believe me – I have had experience with it. But they do not 'bewitch', for they are not witches," Wendy shot back.
"You're splitting hairs," Ashford frowned. He was more than conscious of the three pairs of ears certainly listening within the tent.
"You are accusing my friends of using foul magic on me, but we both know that some witch was needed to find a way to let you cross the worlds to Neverland!" Wendy hissed. "And, by the way, you of all people should stop accusing others of using dirty tricks!" She shoved her right sleeve up and held her arm out. "I'm more than curious what my father will say when he learns that you crept into my bedroom and sedated me, Viscount Dalton Ashford! And I'm sure the police will be interested, too!"
He paled slightly, realizing that the girl had found out what he had done. "Wendy, listen, it isn't what you think. I didn't-"
"You did!" she snapped. "You sedated me while I was sleeping in the guest room of the manor – and, believe me, there will be consequences." Her eyes blazed as she dropped her arm.
He groaned. "I'm sorry, but…"
"Yes, I'm sorry, too – sorry I trusted you!" she snapped. "You abused my trust while I was your guest, snooped around in my personal belongings, and then you insinuated yourself into my parents' confidences and used their concern to learn more about Neverland! And then you followed me! And I know you're not here just for me, but you have other reasons, too – after all, you used your dastardly methods on me before Peter came and took me back to Neverland! You wanted to learn more about the island before I left London, so you must have other motives."
Dalton sighed and took a deep breath. He had no idea where she got her insights, but it was, for the most part, accurate – except for one point. "I didn't sedate you to snoop around in your private belongings."
"No? But you sedated me."
"No – yes," he admitted. "But not to have a closer look at your diaries – or books, or whatever you want to call them."
Wendy stood, hands on her hips, looking briefly like her Aunt Millicent. "You know that they are diaries – ergo you must have had a 'closer look' at them."
Dalton winced and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Your father gave them to me so that I learn more about this island to-"
"My father gave you my diaries?" The girl was beyond thunderstruck, and could only stare at him, then her face flushed. "How dare he! Is there no one I can trust with my most personal of thoughts?"
Raising both hands, Ashford tried to calm her down. "Wendy, I saw Neverland in a crystal ball along with the dragons. I was worried about you, because dragons and young girls… well, you know the stories. Certainly better than I do."
"And they are wrong," she retorted.
"And how could we know this? I saw you were in danger, as did your father. So he was glad when I offered to follow you and to bring you back."
"And here you're losing me," Wendy hissed. "And how do you know about Neverland at all? I told you about some books I was working on. I never told you that this island truly existed, yet you just admitted that you watched Nev … wait, you saw Neverland in a crystal ball?" As he looked down, her eyes narrowed, "So, yours and the others were those eyes in the skies! I knew it! A crystal ball! And you used a real witch's abilities to learn more about Neverland and to follow me here."
He grimaced. "I wouldn't call her a witch. More like a wise woman."
"Let me guess: Brynna Lunette!" When he didn't answer, Wendy shook her head. "Now it makes sense. Her staring, the pressure in my head when she watched me, her creeping around at night, being 'too ill' then fit as a fiddle an hour later. She watched me the whole time, possibly reading my mind. Then, after she knew that I was truly in Neverland, she helped you to come here. The question is: WHY?"
Ashford sighed. "Can't a man follow a beautiful young woman because he's worried about her?"
Wendy seemed to grow taller in her anger. "Nonsense, Dalton!" The Darling-daughter was reaching the end of her patience. "Yes, you might be interested in me, but we both know that this isn't the reason why you came to Neverland – you and those blokes in the tent. And the other group sniffling around north of here." She saw his surprised gaze and growled, "You call Neverland a 'fairy realm' – well, there are fairies here. And other Little People. And believe me, they found you and the others as soon as your foot touched the island – after all you trample through this world like a herd of elephants and spread a stink worse than skunks! At least to the fairies."
"A nice comparison," he said, growing irritated, too. "But the truth is, I'm here to take you and your brothers home – back, to where you belong."
"I AM home," the girl interrupted him. "I'm more at home here than in that prison of a boarding school or London over the last five years!"
He reached out and laid his hands on her shoulders. "And this is exactly the reason why you must leave this island as soon as possible, for you are in danger here! I told you, when you linger too long in a fairy realm, you become, well, addicted to it and lose all sense of reality. Obviously the process has already begun and-"
"I've lost no sense of reality, I love this island because here I can be me without those stupid rules and regulations I'm required to follow back there: what to wear, what to talk about, whom I can talk to, how to curtsy, what and what not to enjoy, and how to 'fit in nicely and obediently'," Wendy shot back, shrugging his hands off.
"And you think avoiding real life here is worthwhile?" The viscount shook his head. "You can't hide here forever."
Lifting both brows just like her mother would do, Wendy replied, "I will go home when I am ready – and it will not be any time soon. So take your goons, go back the way you came and tell my parents that I'm well and safe – just like all of my brothers."
Dalton firmly shook his head. "I cannot. I gave your parents my word of honour to bring you home."
"And I release you from this promise," Wendy said sternly. "You have absolutely no right to meddle with my life and tell me what to do."
"I spoke with your father, and I not only got his permission to court you, but he also gave his blessing about my serious intentions concerning you," Dalton interrupted her. "He is appreciative that there is someone who will guide you and-"
"I don't need guidance," Wendy snapped. "I know exactly what I want – and whom I want in my life." At this moment, eyes blue as forget-me-not flashed through her mind accompanied by long black curls. Good God, yes, she could imagine James at her side, and this not only for these few days. She knew her family would be shocked, but she didn't care. Not now and certainly not in the future. The truth she hadn't even dared to think before this day came easily over her lips by now. "There is someone I want in my life. And, believe it or not, my father has no say in it. Especially not after he betrayed my trust like this!" she added.
The viscount shook his head. "There is someone you want in your life? Who? Where is he? Here? Is it this boy?" He took a deep breath as he got no answer. "Wendy, your father technically gave me his blessings and-"
"I don't care! I will not return to London to become a good little housewife and marry some stranger who thinks he can go behind my back!" she said firmly.
"I didn't go behind your back, I simply was worried just like your parents. Your father and I decided to-"
"Don't you understand?" Wendy interrupted him again. "What you decided, what Father agreed to, do not count here! I will remain here. And you are the last one who has any right to force me to obey."
Dalton's eyes narrowed as it slowly dawned on him that she really meant what she said. She was hellbent on staying, and it revealed to him how far her mind was already 'mixed up' by the fairies – and by this odd boy, too. And, by the way – she rejected him? No one ever gave him a brush-off! He grabbed her wrist. "I've shown patience with you, Wendy, but your father and I have an agreement, and I will fulfil my duty and take you with me –"
"I think, the young lady was exceedingly clear that she does not desire to return with you, Ashford!" a sharp voice rang out. "So kindly unhand her and step back."
Wendy felt a wave of warm relief and smiled as she heard the familiar dark voice. Hadn't she said she didn't need a 'knight in shining armour'? Well, no shining armour, but she needed a certain villain, a rescuer, and his aid came just in time. Turning around, her heart leaped as she saw James Hook standing at the edge of the clearing, blue eyes ablaze, pistol in his left hand, claw lifted in a wordless threat.
Dalton's jaw dropped as he looked over the girl's shoulder straight into the broad muzzle of an old flintlock pistol held by a strong hand. Russell and Wickham appeared at the entrance to the tent and were about to raise their rifles, but stopped as the newcomer thundered, "Gentlemen, drop your weapons – or you'll have to search for a new employer! Believe me, this gun may be old, but I never miss."
The two hunters and a startled Fulsom behind them looked from the stranger (who seemed to come straight from 'Treasure's Island') to Ashford and back; not knowing what to do.
Dalton met the fierce glare of the blue eyes – the deepest blue he had ever seen. Unbelieving, he stared at the man who seemed to have appeared out of thin air; a tiny green being flitted above him. Long black curls moved in the wind and broad shoulders were clad in red velvet and a weapon-sash with a golden hilted sword. Breeches ended in gleaming boots and the lowering sunlight reflected on the hook made of polished steel that replaced the right hand. The man who seemed to be in his thirties was the quintessential pirate-captain. The eyes, face and mouth were well known to him from an old oil painting which hung at home in the manor. There was no doubt with whom Ashford was dealing.
"Shalford," he whispered, shocked.
The buccaneer gave him an icy crocodile grin. "James Hook," he corrected, and glanced at Wendy, who looked happily at him. It seemed he hadn't come a minute too soon.
Dammit, this whole day Hook had felt (it in his bones!) that something was wrong – that the arrival of the men from the Mainland would escalate into conflict. And how right he had been! The moment Kailen landed on the railing beside him, Hook realized his instincts were spot on. One of the intruders was indeed an Ashford, and this craven coward was about to force Wendy to leave with him. And why was this hard-headed maiden determined to play heroine? Hadn't Pan told him this morning that Wendy was to remain in the Nevertree? Ha, as if that girl would stay back. He – James Hook – knew her better than the boy, it seemed. He growled quietly in frustration, while he looked the girl up and down. "Are you well, kitten?" he asked.
"Yes, now I am!" she nodded and yanked her wrist from Dalton's grip. Ashford grimaced. 'Kitten'? How dare this treacherous bastard call her by a pet-name!
"Behind me" James ordered, his voice softer. Wendy quickly moved behind him. Kailen, who had clapped a hand over his nose, landed on her shoulder.
"Called to him, I did," he whispered.
"You're the best," Wendy murmured, feeling light and strong with James there.
Eyes narrowed, Ashford stared at the pirate captain, obviously a rival, given Wendy's reaction to the man's appearance. The girl was not only bewitched by this island but obviously had an infatuation for the buccaneer – just like Dalton had privately feared. Maybe 'Hook' was even the reason she refused to leave. Hadn't she said that she already wanted 'someone' in her life?
He could feel the critical and questioning looks coming from the other men. Taking a deep breath, he decided to stay his original course: he would speak with the ship's commander, even if it irked him. But they both were civilized men, so … "Captain," he addressed the pirate calmly. "I understand you believe you must protect Miss Darling. But that this is not necessary. You see, Miss Darling is my intended -"
"I have never been your 'intended'," Wendy snapped. "Whatever agreement you made with my father, it will certainly be voided the moment I tell him what you did! And even if he insists on making excuses for you, they will not matter. So, take your silly gear, your clumsy, smelly comrades and those still in the woods, and remove your unwelcome selves from Neverland! Without me, without the boys!"
Hook smiled inwardly at her tirade. He loved her temper and her self-possession. However, his image was menacing. "You heard the young lady," he said with a dangerous edge in his voice. "She wants nothing to do with you, here or there. So, take some well-meaning advice and leave Neverland the way you came. Now. Or you all will be very sorry."
"And I advise you to drop that toy pistol and step back!" came a different voice behind them, accompanied by the sound of a hammer drawn back.
The girl spun around and saw a man of perhaps Hook's age or younger with dark hair and a thin beard on the edge of his chiselled jaw and his upper lip. The light brown eyes were narrowed. The weapon looked like an American colt, pointed at the captain's head. Behind him two other men also raised their weapons; a fourth man, older and professorial, glanced nervously between his companions and Hook.
"Mr. Anders, just in time!" Dalton called. "But please be careful with your guns. You must not injure my future bride."
Wendy's ire now exploded. "How often must I tell you that I'm NOT your-"
Anders made a sharp gesture with his free hand. "Shut up, ungrateful child. And you, pirate, drop your weapon, or-"
He got no further. A shrill neigh exploded behind him. Next moment something white and glowing broke through the bushes and slammed against Alister and Jackson, flattening them. Anders whirled and momentarily believed a white horse had attacked them; then he saw the spiral horn on the beast's forehead. Violet-blue eyes flashed in anger at him, then the unicorn reared up and a cloven hoof came down on the Dane's weapon hand. With a cry, he dropped the colt, lashing out with his free hand. His fist had barely grazed the unicorn's shoulder when a searing pain shot up his arm and paralized his whole body. Stumbling backwards, Anders fell to his knees. The unicorn's angry command of "Don't you touch me!" seemed to echo through his head, making him nauseous.
Ashford could only gape at the mystical creature, doubting the evidence of his eyes, then he gasped as the unicorn ran past the pirate and the girl, and raced toward him! He saw its head threateningly lowered, firm purpose in its violet eyes, and he whirled around and fled behind the nearest bushes, but the unicorn followed him with a speed and elegance he had never imagined.
Wickham and Russell had been staring from the tent, but now reacted and raised their weapons. They were not able to use them, for none of them had reckoned on Wendy's little friends. Despite the stench that surrounded the men, Bumblyn entered the clearing when he heard the sharp voices of the men and the angry whinny of the unicorn. Aurora followed, too. They quickly chose their targets. Avoiding the enraged unicorn, they dashed towards the tent, and then Bumblyn used his strong teeth and bit through the supporting rope. Aurora yanked the next tent peg with all her strength, releasing it from the earth. The result was ruinous for Wickham, Russell and Fulsom. The tent collapsed on them, capturing them in yards of waxed canvas.
Kailen spun in the air and winked triumphantly at Aurora and Bumblyn. They had to dodge as Dalton received a double kick from the unicorn's back hoofs, sending him flying into the dirt at Hook's feet. The captain sneered at the viscount. "Exactly where you belong," he commented wryly, grinning.
Too soon! Alister and Jackson had regained their feet. While the professor attempted to assist a trembling, discomfited Anders, still in pain from touching the unicorn, the two hunters raised their weapons.
Hook was faster. Firing, he shot the rifle out of Alister's hand, but the pistol only carried one shot. Hook was equal to the challenge. Replacing the pistol and shoving Wendy aside, he pelted towards Jackson who was swiping ineffectively at a furious Kailen in his face. In one swift movement, Hook's booted foot kicked the gun out of the invader's hand, then he landed a strong blow at his opponent's jaw. The hunter reeled back, while Kailen applauded.
Wendy's scream "JAMES, LOOK OUT!" made the captain drop down as a shot echoed through the air. The bullet missed him. He saw that one of the men – the one with the scar on his cheek – had freed himself from the tent and was preparing to fire again.
Bumblyn was equal to the task, picking up a rock and throwing it hard at Wickham's head, while Aurora attacked the mortal with her shrill ringing, fighting against the foul odour as well. She intended to show him what it meant to anger a fairy. Kailen flew up and bit Wickham in his ear hard enough to draw blood. Screaming, Wickham tried to bat the pixie and the bogie away, then the unicorn crashed into him. The blow from the innocent animal was a severe shock to his dark character, he fell against Russell and Fulsom. All three vanished once again in the large folds of the tent.
Still moving, the unicorn looked directly at Wendy. "RUN!" she shouted, kicking out again and sending the rising Fulsom to the ground.
Wendy saw Dalton reaching for his pistol. She immediately bent down, took a handful of soil and threw it in his face, blinding him for a crucial moment. Heart in her throat, she raced to Hook and grabbed his hand. "Come on!" she panted and pulled the surprised buccaneer with her, both seeing that their opponents were about to use their weapons again. He regretted the earlier decision to split up his search parties.
As Wendy and James passed the one who had dared touch the unicorn, and the older one who crouched beside him, the girl shoved the older one aside, making him fall against the dark-haired man. Yes, it was bad form, but just now Wendy couldn't care less.
Hook glanced back. The unicorn was kicking at Ashford, who had no other choice than to roll under the next bush to escape the whirling hooves. With a loud neigh, she leapt over the bush and vanished into the depths of the wood. The collapsed tent still restricted its captives, while the older man – who looked so very out of place – tried to stand up. All were reaching for their guns.
Career pirates were brave fighters – and James Hook was not a man to run from a fight. But there was a well-known maxim among the pirates that he took to heart that moment: He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day. There was a difference between courage and pride, so he took Wendy's right hand firmly in his let and fled downhill toward the two waiting longboats. And not a moment too soon, because one heartbeat later, the first shots rang out, nipping at the leaves over their heads, obviously fired in anger despite the viscount's shouts to stop…
TBC…
Oh shi'… This all turned out worse than thought – especially for our captain. But, let's say it clearly: he is as reckless as Peter is (laugh). Of course he has to mess with Ashford and the viscount's companions, after all he has to 'rescue' Wendy, who held on her own rather good. On the other hand, Dalton was about to force her to return, so Hook's intervention came just in time. Only now he has eight hell-bent men on his heels with modern weapons (at least compared with his own)… And Wendy? Her attempt to solve the whole problem peacefully was certainly noble and she couldn't have known that Dalton would break every rule of manners by not accepting her 'no', but she really mixed everything up. And she and Hook can be glad that her little magical friends and the unicorn where there, but there in more help needed.
And Peter had his own encounter with Dalton's men. Of course they weren't really prepared with whom they would dealing, after all Peter Pan is indeed unique, but the first meeting didn't go well and our little prince's rather impulse actions against Anders and the others will have consequences later. And I hope you liked the Little People I brought into the scene – after all, Neverland is full of magic, and sooner or later Anders and his companions had to meet a few of the not-human habitants.
Well, contraire to my habit, this time I don't want to tell too much about the next chapter, only that there will be a lot of action, like you certainly already assume. It will be the first real conflict between the viscount and the habitants of Neverland, and Wendy will show 'her' villain how important he has become for her by acting a little bit too reckless… I think, the next update comes within the next week.
I hope, you liked the new chapter and would be happy to get a few reviews; I'm starving here for some feedback.
Have a nice rest of the weekend
Love
Yours Lywhn / Starflight