Hi, my dear readers!
Finally back from vacation and finishing the chapter, I'm happy to give you the newest update. I hope, you're all well and still a little bit eager to learn what happens next.
Therefore no long words, off to Surrey, England, at 1909.
Have fun,
Yours Lywhn / Starflight
Chapter 70 – A Friend From Childhood Days
Hook almost forgot he was sitting on a cold stone floor, and stared at the little creature.
'Master Jamie' – he hadn't been called that for … for two centuries. He knew who this visitor was: the Brownie Wendy had told him about. The same Brownie who, she reported, tried to warn him a few days ago before Wendy came back to Neverland. The same Brownie who claimed to know him as a child. And her voice was indeed familiar to him, yet he didn't remember this sprite at all.
Nissa could only gaze upon the tall man. His hair was longer now; also new were the moustache and goatee. There were lines around the eyes and between his brows, but she would have known him anywhere. And not just because of those blue, blue eyes. She could sense his living energy in a way no human would ever understand (which all Brownies could do.) And that man on the other side of the bars was so familiar to her, more so than even his mother and grandmother. She'd known him even in the womb.
James tilted his head as the little creature continued to gaze at him with those big, damp eyes; obviously too emotional to speak "Nissa, right?" he finally asked, and got a quick nod and a suppressed sob in answer. Hook raised both brows. He still wasn't accustomed to people being happy to see him. Since Peter and he made pax and Wendy had come into his life, he was treated once again like a human being and not like a dreaded presence, yet meeting someone from his past and facing joy instead of anger or trepidation was quite a new experience.
Nissa slid easily through the narrow opening between bars, then moved toward him shyly. Or was she afraid that he might vanish? He thought the latter, for a moment later, she ran to him, hopped on his lap and threw both arms around him; her gnarled hands clinging to him. Burying her face into his chest she began to sob and to laugh together, murmuring his name and hugging him like a mother would a lost son.
James was taken aback and stiffened. Wendy had told him that the Brownie loved him, but this was … unexpected. Following a tender impulse, he laid his left hand on the tiny back and felt the little creature trembling with emotion. It touched him; he couldn't deny it. Awkwardly, he stroked her back, then combed two fingers through the hair that felt like long fur. The wrinkled face beamed up at him, big tears rolled down the weathered cheeks. "Master Jamie is really back," the bogey whispered and wiped her eyes. "He's really back!"
"Obviously," Hook responded, his lips curling into a smile. "Wendy told me about you," he added quietly. "She said you were here when our family still lived here, but I don't remember you, because …" he frowned, "because … you obliterated my memories?" His eyes grew hard, but the Brownie didn't seem to mind. Sitting down in his lap, she wiped her eyes and sniffled.
"Master Jamie must not be angry with Nissa," she replied softly. "No other choice she had to make sure that you escaped, and escape you had to." She sighed deeply, and Hook perceived the burden on the small shoulders.
His eyes softened. "You told Wendy that you tried to warn me when I wanted to come home and that I didn't want to leave you behind, so you … removed my memory of you. I understand why you did it, but I don't like it." He spoke calmly, but sternly.
The Brownie smiled sheepishly up at him. "Nissa knows this, but no time there was to save your life otherwise. After you they were and nearly here they were." She saw him frowning, and sighed. "It is better if Nissa shows you," she said softly, and beckoned him to bend his head toward her. She saw the distrust in his eyes. "Not fearing you must me. Nissa would rather die than harming you, dear Master Jamie."
"I certainly don't fear a bogey," James snorted. "I know you Little People very well -"
"And yet know so little you do – even when learning of us in Neverland," she interrupted with some amusement in her voice. "Pride you have, Jamie, trouble it always gave you." She winked at him with so much warmth and love in her big brown eyes that Hook felt himself relaxing.
"So what now?" he asked, lowering his head toward the Brownie with an odd sense of déjà-vu.
"Now giving back Nissa will what she took away."
Her tiny cool fingers stroked his forehead in a comforting way – and in Hook's mind a veil he hadn't known fell away. The memories returned in a flood of pictures, voices and smells – not as violently as it had when his memory was restored in Neverland, but strong enough to make him gasp …
*PP*PP*
The horse's hooves carefully tramped over the wet path. The rain drizzled down on the lonely rider as if the skies would weep the tears he couldn't shed. Not now. He had a mission. Time for tears would come later. But the pain tore at his control; a pain like a sharp knife that was twisting around and around in his gut. And mingled with this pain was the fury.
His father – Andrew Shalford, a great warrior, a diplomat, loving father, and a kind man – and his brothers Kenneth and Lyon were dead: his father and eldest brother executed in the Tower because of false accusations! And Lyon, James' second brother, murdered during the ambush by the Ashfords while trying to protect their mother. The manor? Overtaken. Given to the Ashfords. James' mother Marie and his sister-in-law Veronica? In exile somewhere in France or Netherlands. Sisters? Somewhere traveling on the Continent. The servants? Dead, in prison or simply dismissed. Their heritage stolen now, out of reach.
How had this happened?
When James Andrew Shalford, youngest son, left home four months ago to seek his fortune in his career and sail with his naval unit to Morocco and back, everything had been as remembered. His mother had kissed him goodbye, his father had wished him fair winds in his sails with a firm handshake, and his oldest brother had grinned at him while carrying his newborn daughter on his right arm; his pretty wife Veronica had stood with her handsome husband, smiling at him. His sisters were traveling abroad, visiting distant relatives. They spoke about his father's birthday, when the whole family would be gathered to celebrate the marquess' 60th anniversary. They regretted that James would not be able join them.
And now all were gone – the men were dead, his sisters, his mother and her daughters-in-law banished along with their children; the manor in the possession of the bastards who had spread lies about the Shalfords; robbing them of life, land and home.
Impelled by fury and anguish, James directed the horse up Charles Hill. His friend, Arthur Thursgood, had loaned him the horse – the same man who met him at the ship with the horrible news and the warning that he had a price on his head. As the last living male, Shalford cared nothing for the latter. All he wanted was to avenge his family!
Suddenly, someone tiny leapt out of the bushes beside his path, making his horse rear. James kept his seat, but cursed with the sailor's tongue he'd acquired since joining the Navy years ago. Then, in the fading daylight, he saw her: A small, brown creature with long pointed ears, a large nose and larger eyes. She raised a thin hand, gathering skirt of the tartan dress with the other. "Nissa! What are you doing here?" he gasped, recognizing his old friend.
"Master Jamie, STOP! Not riding further! Awaiting you they are!" her voice squeaked.
James' heart thudded in his chest, angry to find himself startled. While his brothers believed the Brownie was only a fantasy of childhood, Nissa had stayed in touch with him, remaining visible to him even after he grew up. Her existence was something of a miracle for him – especially after leaving youth behind – but like the Holy Spirit his mother prayed with, she had had his back whenever he needed it. So he had kept silent about her, even among his siblings. To see her now, after thinking that he had lost everything, was a tremendous relief.
Speaking softly and soothing the nervous, panting horse, he finally jumped off and secured the reins to the nearest tree. Approaching Nissa, she stood with fearful eyes, long arms wrapped around herself. "Nissa, thank God at least you escaped!" James murmured and knelt before her, reaching out a trembling hand to his friend, who clasped his wet cold fingers between her own.
"Master Jamie," Nissa murmured; tears on her cheeks. "Please, retreat you must! Seeking for you they do on the path!"
"So, they have already heard of my escape. Well, bad news always travels like fire in a dry wood," James said bitterly, then he took a deep breath. Even though summer, the air was cold and the wind was picking up – weather you might expect in autumn, but for the homeless man now bitterly alone, it was already winter. "Nissa, I was told that my mother, my sisters-in-law and the children were sent to exile on the Continent. Do you know where?" As the Brownie forlornly shook her head, he burst out: "But you must know where Mother was sent! You were there when it happened!"
Nissa gulped; new tears in her eyes. "Taken away all were – all who lived," she whispered. "My Lady Marie and the young masters' wives with the children were removed in a coach. sent away by ship to the Continent, said the new master to his son they were. Furious about it he was, said that they should have died, too, that Lady Marie was a Scottish traitor, but differently the new king's official decided."
"And Lyon? I was told that he died protecting our mother," James demanded.
The Brownie's voice trembled. "Wanted to help Master Andrew did Lady Marie and … and one of the enemies turned on her. Master Lyon … went between them and … and fought them. From behind a second man came and …" She lowered her head. There was no need for details.
"What happened to … to my brother's body?" James asked hoarsely.
"Burying him they did – at the burial ground near the park." Nissa's lips trembled. "Took away all gravestones a few days later they did … and … and flattened all graves. Erasing all traces of the Shalfords would the forest, they said."
The man who would later become the man even feared by Blackbeard and Barbeque, bared his teeth in and angry snarl – the first of many. "I'll make them pay for killing my father and my brothers, desecrating our family's graves and banishing my mother into exile! They won't know what hit them!" He was about to stand, but Nissa took his wrist, holding him there. For such a small creature she was surprisingly strong.
"Not returning to the manor can you. Not now! Setting up a trap they did!"
"I don't care! That bastard Ashford has to die!" James snarled, but once again Nissa held him in check.
"So many soldiers and other men there. Not gaining anything would you when they kill you, -" She suddenly tensed and looked up the hill; her large ears darted forward. Then her eyes widened and she urged, "Hurry, Master Jamie! Nissa hears horses coming."
James Andrew Shalford narrowed his eyes. "Let them come, I'll show them what a fight looks like -"
"Heard me not?" Nissa hissed, sounding frantic. "Waiting for you they do! On your head is a price; a traitor to the Crown the new king thinks you to be, too. Convincing of the contrary you cannot do when being dead. So flee now and your return is planned carefully!"
He heard hoofbeats approaching – many of them. James knew that he stood no chance against a dozen men or more; men who would return him dead or alive. It would not be a fair fight.
This time he did stand and grasped his sword, eyes narrowed into flaring slits. Nissa shuddered as she saw the new red glow in those blue depths, arising from an anguish and wrath so deep it made his soul bleed, now mirrored in her charge's eyes. "Jamie …" she whispered, shocked. "Let not the darkness of hate and wrath fill your soul or lost you will be for all time."
James Shalford appeared not to react. With every fiber of is being he longed to confront his enemy; defending his family's honor by taking as many of his opponents with him to the grave as he could.
Nissa tried again. "The last Shalford-man you be. If dead you be, no-one can demand justice or reclaim your family's home!" she said urgently. "Duty calls you to clean the name."
James ground his teeth again. Dammit, Nissa was right. If he wanted to restore his family's honor, he had to live to fight another day. He cursed again like the sailor he had become – and received a scowl from Nissa, making him feel as if he were nine again. He released the sword hilt. Turning around he unknotted the reins of the horse and led it to the sprite. Bending down, he offered her his free hand. "You're coming with me."
Nissa's ears pointed straight upwards and her eyes widened. "Come with you I cannot," she gasped. "Bound to the river am I, you know!"
Impatiently, James shook his head. "We have no time for bogey traditions." THAT earned him a scowl from Nissa, which he ignored. "Don't be afraid to ride with me, I will hold you." He reached for her, but she darted back, wildly shaking her head.
"Here Nissa must stay! Bound am I to the river. No time is there to cut this link. And Nissa would only be a hindrance to Master Jamie."
"Nonsense!" he scoffed. "If you have some fairy bindings or whatever, you can cut them off while we ride." He reached out for her again, but she withdrew.
"No!" she said firmly. "Master Jamie must to flee – to change name and appearance, become invisible. No notice should people take. How can he want to do this when with a Brownie he travels? All would remember you! Pursuers would find you!"
The sound of pursuit drew came nearer and consternation rose in his throat. But never would he leave this childhood friend behind. She was the last connection to his life that had ended so abruptly, so hideously. "I won't go without you!" he said forcefully. "I'll hide you, if you want, but I won't let you live under the same roof with these bastards!" he spat.
Nissa looked behind him; Ashford's henchmen would soon be visible among the trees. "Please, Master Jamie, flee and live!" she pleaded. "Wait for your return I will. As long as you live, I'll wait for you. I swear, but NOW GO!"
His blue eyes narrowed. "You won't change my mind. I will NOT leave you behind. We both go or neither of us!" She recognized the set of that jaw, first seen when he had made up his mind to leave the large crib one winter day. He bent down and snatched up the Brownie in his arms. Nissa tried to wriggle free, but for naught. Without another word he placed her on the saddle and she held onto him with one hand. Something went through her eyes – a shimmer, a gleam he hadn't seen before – then she stood up and looked in his eyes. "What?" he asked, leaning forward.
Her thin fingers, now hot, stroked his forehead and he felt a strange force entering his mind. "Forgive Nissa, precious Master Jamie, but only this way can you to escape." Then something seemed to close in his head. "Forget!" a voice whispered, and for a moment he closed is eyes, suddenly dizzy.
Nissa used that moment to leap from the horse and vanish in the brush. Looking back, she saw her Master Jamie, the beloved son of her former mistress, shaking his head then glancing around. The thunder of approaching hooves suddenly reminded him of where he was and the danger, and quickly he swung himself on the mare's back; the hood of his cloak slid from his head. Wondering why he was waiting, he looked around as if searching, then he kicked the horse's sides and rode away.
Just in time.
Ashford's henchmen broke through the vegetation – and Nissa fulfilled her last duty to the man she'd loved from the moment she'd peeked in his cradle. With a loud screech she'd learned from a banshee, she hurled herself into the riders' path, racing back and forth in front of them. The result was inevitable: all their horses reared up, dropping most of their riders. A moment later, the group of pursuers was only a heap of wild horses, fallen men, flying mud, branches and leaves. Those who remained horsed were busy with gathering the beasts and helping their comrades to their feet.
Nissa smiled rather wickedly at them, then she fled. She ran up the hill to the manor where she would wait for Master Jamie's return. She couldn't know that it would be nearly two hundred years…
*PP*PP*
James blinked a few times as he remembered where he was; no longer in the rainy woods outside his family's manor, but in dark room of stone, lit by a few torches – the dungeon. And Nissa sat on his lap and looked ruefully up at him. He groaned and rubbed his forehead. "I hate it when you Little People mess with my head!" he grumbled.
"Nissa had no other choice," the Brownie said quietly. "Not riding away without her you wanted, and your enemies were just there. So Nissa did what she could: to make you forget who she was."
The man glared at her, first irritated, then looked heavenward in sheer frustration, then grew gentle. "I understand why you did it," he murmured. "But never – ever! – do it again." He lifted a stern finger.
She giggled like a little girl. "Promise," she said, then looked down. Her thin hands took his right forearm, and wide-eyed, she glanced at the metal claw that replaced his once strong and elegant hand. Sadly, she stroked the hook. "Nissa heard what happened to you," she said quietly. "Was it really … really the boy Peter who did this to you?" She looked up at him again. "Nissa heard you and the dorcha bhiorach speaking about it."
James frowned. "Dor … what?"
"Dorcha bhiorach," Nissa repeated. "The dark son of the count – young Ashford boy."
"Hm, the name fits," Hook grumbled, then he took a deep breath. "Yes, Peter cut off my hand – in battle," he added as he saw how her face darkened. "We fought – a fierce fight – he was quicker and then it happened," he explained. "I know now that he didn't do it on purpose and that he is quite repentant for this … incident. But for many years I thought there was no regret that he inflicted this injury, and I hated him for it. Then -"
"Nissa listened how against the dorcha bhiorach Master Jamie defended the boy – that the boy prepared to die with him." She gulped. "In an erupting volcano?" Her voice sounded terribly fearful.
"Oh, it was a grand adventure," Hook nodded and realized that he now even sounded like Pan. God have mercy on him! "One I will tell you about later."
"If Nissa had known what the boy did to you, not helping him would she," the tiny lady growled; a deep frown on her wrinkled forehead.
"I forgave him, Nissa. This must be enough for you," James said gently yet sternly. "If the boy wants to stay and live with Wendy and me, you are to welcome him. That bloody funny and infuriating brat had gained my respect, then my acceptance and now …" he sighed, hardly believing he was admitting it, "now he has become like a son to me." She stared at him, and he nodded firmly. "Don't tell him that I said so, but it's true. Somehow, as time passed, we both walked together for so long, my hatred turned into affection, and I protected him – as he defends me with teeth, claws and blade." He took a deep breath and looked towards the bars. "And now I must get out of this cage before the boy does something bold and stupid trying to rescue me. Ashford and his men are waiting for him."
"This they do – and if Master Jamie has forgiven him, so will Nissa do. After I give him an earful," she added with a grumble and a wink at Hook.
The captain chuckled. "If I remember correctly, to getting an earful from you can be … unpleasant." He stroked through her fuzzy grey-brown hair. "But I don't only fear for Mr. Clever. I'm sure Wendy is with him. Those two are thick as thieves, and I don't want my girl in danger because she thinks she has to play 'pirate'."
Slowly the Brownie nodded. "Strong the Lady Wendy is – strong, stubborn, brave and filled with love for you. Nissa felt it." She looked at him thoughtfully. "To take the young lady as your wife you want?"
"We're promised," James nodded.
Nissa's ears pointed at the ceiling again in surprise, then she grinned almost mischievously. "So, caught was Lieutenant Shalford in the end, too!"
Hook rolled his eyes. "That lieutenant of the Royal Navy no longer exists. I'm a pirate now and a captain of my own ship and crew – and I'm proud of it." He looked again at the bars and he grimaced. "A pirate captain in a dungeon – this picture is askew! That's exactly what I've always been able to avoid. I even brewed a potion I could take to avoid becoming a prisoner and being hanged. But this this is no longer an option; I have a real reason to live now – a sweet one with big dove-blue eyes, a bright smile, a far too big heart and with the temper of a lioness."
Nissa began to giggle again; her ears twitching. "Master Jamie is in lo-o-ove," she sang; her brown hands patting his chest.
"Hm, instead of teasing me you might find the keys to this damn oubliette," Hook groused, while he felt – to his horror – his ears growing warm. What? Was he blushing because a little bogey pulled his leg about his feelings for a girl? His crew would laugh themselves silly.
"Getting near the keys Nissa cannot," the Brownie sighed. "And the kitchen of the witch is above us, with the man of the Red Dragon's land and the egg of the dragon are just now there. Hearing any noises from here the witch would."
James pursed his lips. "The little salamander is still in its egg? Very good, for we can transport him easily to the portal."
"In his egg he is still, aye! But broken the shell is. But too clever the dragonling is to come out. Feeling the danger he does and waits for rescue." She had sat down on Hook's lap again and folded her hands in her own as if at an afternoon tea. James didn't mind. Nissa was an old friend. The longer she was with him, the more the feeling of familiar warmth returned.
"So, we have some time; good. Yet I can't sit here and wait for my crew or Pan to show up. I don't want any bloodshed."
"Not even to make the dorcha bhiorach bleed?" Nissa asked surprised.
Hook grimaced. "I'd love to shed his blood, but times have changed since I fled England. As I learned, today's justice doesn't accept any kind of duel anymore. If I kill him in self-defense, it might be allowed, but otherwise I would be in danger from the law. I've not come this far only to walk the gallows for murder – even if he deserves death a hundred times over." He pondered his options, then spoke. "You said you cannot get the keys."
"Aye, Master Jamie. Keeping them with him the Ashford-boy does – or one of his blood dogs," Nissa added with a clear distaste in her rough voice.
"But what about something else …" James murmured, the wheels in his head turning. He closed his eyes briefly, then spoke to the Brownie. "I have an idea."
Nissa listened closely to her beloved 'Master Jamie's' plan, and grinned widely as he told her what he intended to do …
* PP * PP *
"Look, down there!" Nibs called out to Peter, now flying beside Wendy. Following Nibs' pointing finger, they looked below, toward the dark landscape of North Surrey, and saw two pale headlights moving together; following a road that led west to a small village – Elstead.
"I'll look closer," Peter called. "Keep going, I'll catch up." Without waiting for an answer, he swooped gracefully down over the two pairs of headlights; Tink remained with the boys and Wendy. Her light was the only way to read their 'map' that Curly had torn out of the atlas.
Quickly the youth headed towards the lights and the droning of motorcars. Flying nearer he recognized a very large one with an open load area on the backside. And inside were many men sitting in which he recognized Hook's most loyal crew members. He had to grin as he saw them clinging to a kind of railing around the cargo bed, while the vehicle rocked vigorously from one side to the other.
"Bloody 'ell, boy, do y' 'ave t' hit every lump inna bloody road?" The voice was Smee's.
"I thought you were seamen and used to it," came the answer from the front of the vehicle, and Peter knew it was Daniel who steered this oversized horseless coach. He grinned. The young man's saucy comeback was very much to Peter Pan's liking. Moving ahead, he flew above the smaller motorcar leading the larger one. He saw Wendy's father and Victoria; Aurora was seated on the lady's open coat collar.
Pleased that he, his friends, and Wendy would be at the manor before the grownups, he flew up into the dark evening sky again and located Tinker Bell. Smirking, he shot through the air catching up with the others. "Some of Hook's crew, Daniel, Victoria and Wendy's father are down there," he told them. "If we hurry, we can beat them to the manor."
Nibs, Curly and Michael shouted in triumph. "Ha, let's see which rescuer is quicker!" Slightly smirked.
"Of course we are faster-" Twin 1 began, "because we are-" added Twin 2, "The LOST BOYS!" all shouted in battle mood.
Wendy shook her head in silent amusement. If their father could see – and hear! – his older sons. He would be shocked that his 'young gentlemen' were behaving like they were ten or twelve again. And the younger ones were just a bunch of little rascals. On the other hand, that was exactly what they needed to confront Ashford and his henchmen. Childlike care-lessness and utterly conviction that no-one and nothing could stop their victory, were the best preparation to win a fight against stronger, ruthless and certainly well-armed bandits. They'd done it before, aboard the Jolly Roger during their first stay in Neverland. They could do it again, this time against those who had brought misery and death to Neverland, and now threatened the welfare of her family, her friends and the man she loved!
Moving even faster, they soon reached the beginning of Charles Hill. Flying now just above treetop level, Wendy suddenly pointed straight ahead. "There it is!" she announced. Instinctively her voice had lowered, yet everyone heard.
"Right," Peter nodded as he saw the lights through the nearly bare branches. "We land outside and I'll reconnoiter. We still have to find the entrance to the secret tunnel Hook mentioned."
Wendy gestured east. "The park is surrounded by a wall and I think it has to be there. I could see it from the window of my room when I was … well … kept here."
Peter narrowed his eyes. "For that action alone Ashford should rot in hell, as well as the massacre, or what he did here in London, or kidnapping Hook!"
They slowed and Tink's light showed them an opening through the tree branches to the ground. In her light, the boys and the girl could see that many of the plants surrounding them were about to bloom or push out leaves soon. A few days more and at least the bushes would have leaves.
Peter propped his fists on his hips and looked around. It was cold, damp and eerily silent. Nearby was the wall Wendy had mentioned. "Tink, come with me," he whispered and crept along the piles of stones, partially overgrown with ivy; the others followed. It was tedious creeping along the wall, because outside of the manor's property the forest was untamed. Not daring to light one of the lamps Nibs had taken with them, they had only Tink's fairy light to reveal where feet should go.
Suddenly, she stopped midair and looked carefully ahead. And out of the backpack, the Hobgoblin's voice squeaked: "Feeling other Little People, Bumblyn does!" Then he cleared his throat. "Let Bumblyn out!"
"Soon, Bumblyn," Wendy promised in a hushed voice. "It's very dark and we have to feel our way along the park wall, so be still." He obeyed, knowing it was far better to be carried than to stumble through the darkness with such short legs.
Tink said something and Peter frowned. "You're sure?" He caught her glare and lifted both hands in mock surrender. "Sorry." Then he turned his attention to something close: little lights approaching quickly.
"Fairies?" Curly asked quietly in surprise.
"Nah, they would leave golden trails," Slightly replied.
Tink looked disgusted. Sometimes she had the urge to give even the Lost Boys a slap on their heads. Didn't the mortals say that a slap on the back of the head would help one think? Maybe she should test this theory. Jingling impatiently, she gestured toward the approaching lights. Peter felt himself tense and moved faster toward the lights. He knew who was coming.
And he was right. The tiny lights grew, revealing little green beings that flew towards the boys and the girls – tiny hands holding tinier lights. Large, almond-shaped black eyes looked carefully at the children and the older ones, piping voices whispering to each other, upturned noses drawing in the scent of the sandy-haired boy in front of the little group.
"Neverland …" some murmured. "The Pan is here."
Then a familiar prankster flew forward. "Peter! Good it is to see you!" Not as fast as a fairy could fly, but still fast enough, Kailen raced to the boy and grinned broadly at him.
"Kailen!" the teen replied, stopping. "Aurora said you were in Hook's pocket when he was kidnapped. How is he?"
Kailen chuckled, seeing and feeling Peter's worry. How close boy and man had become! "Fret you not. Well so far is the captain. Right, provoking the witch he did and hurling curses at him was her answer, knocking him out for a bit. But down in the dungeons he is now – and well I think he is so far."
Peter shook his head. "I knew he would give Ashford and the witch a hard time. But confronting that witch was not very clever of him."
"Says the boy whose answer to danger is laughing at it," Wendy added, coming alongside him. "Kailen, what did Lunette do to James?"
The pixie shrugged. "Not everything clearly see could Kailen. Hiding in the horseless coach did he. Yet saw her to hurl magic at the captain, who fell down – but interrupt her did Ashford and his men bringing the captain down into the dungeon," he added quickly as he saw the girl's alarm. Then he tilted his head. "Looking like an Elf the Wendy-lady does again. Coming with bow and arrows to save her pirate?" he teased.
"Not with bow and arrows, but with my dagger – and the whole gang of Lost Boys led by the best that ever was: Peter Pan!" Wendy replied and saw from the corner of her eye how the boy promptly seemed to grow an inch. "And Hook's men are on their way here, too."
"Indeed, no chance has the dorcha bhiorach and his witch," added another voice. Only now did Peter and his friends notice the other pixies surrounding them. Peter realized that one was royalty, and bowed elegantly, while Wendy curtseyed. A quick glare back at the boys was enough to make them bow, too.
"Laird Kenan this is," Kailen introduced the pixie leader. "Related to Laird Garth of Neverland he is." Then he gestured towards a pixie costumed as a knight and an old pixie in a white robe. "And these are Cadan, the general of the pixie army and Seer Mawgan. Seeing Dark Owl in his animal form he did and -"
"A pixie army?" Peter interrupted, looking at Cadan, who saluted. A smile decorated the boy's face. "How many soldiers do you have with you, General Cadan? And how quickly can they muster?"
"Around in the woods the most are, awaiting my signal, Peter Pan," the pixie replied.
Peter cleared his throat. "Then we should join with Hook's pirates. They can come from the front and we from behind." He chewed his lower lip. "Hook mentioned a tunnel that led into the manor's dungeons, but I don't know where the entrance is. It might take awhile to find it –"
"Does Peter Pan want to use the tunnel?" Cadan asked, while he and Kailen exchanged a grin.
The Prince of Neverland had experience with pixies, so he interpreted the pranksters' reaction correctly. "You already know where the entrance is," he remarked hopefully.
"Aye!" That came from a lot of pixies, who were giggling, including the ever so plush Laird Kenan.
The smile now grew to a wide, triumphant grin. "Then I know exactly what we must do. Pixie-friends, boys, Wendy, let us pow-wow!"
* PP * PP *
Mr. Darling parked his motorcar at the double gate and left the driver's seat. Beside the gate was a single bell and he heaved on it twice, ringing it loudly. He looked up the driveway where some distance away, the manor was located. A few of the large, high windows were lit, otherwise it was quiet. Then a large man sauntered toward them carrying a rifle. He wasn't alone. A second man accompanied him, while from the other side of the manor a third figure drew nearer. George took a deep breath, glancing at Victoria who stood next to him. The young lady's face tightened before she put on a cold mask of practiced arrogance. Aurora was no-where to be seen. She had left the Adler before it turned onto the road leading to the gate, and now hid somewhere in the bushes. Daniel Kempton and the pirates waited around the corner on the small road. Mr. Darling first wanted to speak with Ashford. If the viscount would not listen to reason, then more drastic methods would be necessary.
One of the three men strode nearer and stopped near the gate. He first examined Victoria, then George. "I remember you. You're the little bitch's father, aren't you? Mr. Da-a-arling." He spat on the ground. "What do you want?" he asked brusquely.
Before George could form an answer, his companion spoke up. "Mr. Darling and I are here to speak with Dalton Ashford. Open the gate."
The man lazily lifted both brows. "And who'd be you to order me around?" he drawled.
The young lady straightened. "I'm Victoria Ashford, Dalton's cousin."
The man rested the barrel of his rifle on his shoulder. "Izzat so?" he asked insolently.
Victoria lifted a brow. "I don't know who you are, but open this gate or I'll make certain that my uncle fires you!"
"Tut-tut, Missy. I have no clue who you really are-" Jackson was interrupted as Wickham came behind him. He wore a bandage around his head covering the swollen ear Aurora had bitten.
"What do we have here?" he asked and glanced at the young woman. He whistled. "Isn't that the little hellcat who pushed herself between the viscount and that one-handed cripple?"
Jackson turned around to him. "You know her?"
"Yeh, she's the viscount's cousin," Morton replied.
"I'm here to speak with Dalton. Open the gate!" Victoria demanded sharply; ignoring the man's question.
"If you ask nicely then-" That was the wrong thing to say. In the blink of an eye, Vicky was at the gate.
"You forget your place, servant. Hired by my cousin and armed or not, but you're still a servant! So serve, or I'll make certain that my uncle, Dalton's father, will learn of the discourteous manner in which you speak to a member of his family. Whatever Dalton promised you as payment, you'll get nothing of it if you don't-"
"Good God, lady, don't blow a gasket!" Wickham grumbled and turned to leave. "I'll tell your cousin you're here." He turned around, but Victoria stopped him.
"I said, open that gate and not -"
"Too bad, Missy, but your cousin has the key to the gates. So, exercise your patience until I get back," Morton chuckled and sauntered toward the mansion, while the other man crossed his arms in front of his chest, stared at the two visitors and simply grinned, sucking his teeth.
Victoria was warm with anger. She and Dalton might not be on the same page at the moment, but she would make certain that her cousin gave these two rascals a kick up their backside! This was outrageous!
A few minutes later, the man returned from the manor; his silhouette clear against the light from the open door. Unlocking the gate and gesturing to the other man to accompany him, he stepped out. "His Lordship awaits you in his study – after I examine your motorcar," he said.
"You want to do what?" George Darling asked indignantly, finally finding his tongue.
"I'll examine your motorcar. Your potential son-in-law has a crew full of criminals. How would I know that you didn't bring a few of them with you?" Wickham asked casually, as if discussing the weather.
"This is-" George began but Victoria lifted a hand.
"If my cousin thinks he can only allow me access to my family's home under some outrageous conditions, he is wrong." She lifted her skirts and strode through the gates. Jackson turned.
"Hey! You stop there, or-"
"Or what?" the young lady threw at him icily. "Dalton is afraid that a few of Captain Andrews' men are hiding in Mr. Darling's motorcar. Might they also be hiding beneath my skirts?" Her posture, the arrogant tilt of her head, the one lifted brow, the coldness in her voice – she couldn't show more social distance between her own status and the hunters than she did at that moment.
"Let her go," Wickham said. "If the viscount gets in trouble with her – well, it's his family." Then he climbed into the Adler, but there was, of course, nothing to find. After checking under every bench, he said with some arrogance of his own: "You can pass,"
"Too gracious," Mr. Darling replied sarcastically, and slipped back into the driver seat. Glaring at Morton he growled: "Get out – now! Don't think I'm going to drive you to the manor."
For a long moment, both men stared at each other, and for once George Darling met the gaze with a strength of his own. The blue eyes behind his spectacles shot daggers at Wickham, and the hunter climbed off the car, sneered at him, and spat at the tyre.
"I heard that camels spit a lot. Interesting how many of them are walking on England's fair country," George remarked, engaged the gear and steered the Adler up the driveway. He wondered what had possessed into him to mock such a rowdy. On the other hand, it felt very good to give tit for tat for once. Parking near the front door, he left it and joined Victoria who waited for him on the wide steps. Soon they were on their way to Dalton's study…
* PP *
Most of the pirates had left the lorry and leaned against the wall, waiting. Armed with flintlocks, cutlasses, swords, daggers and a few boat hooks they looked quite out of place here in the woods. But if one dared to take a closer look at them, any laughter would have died in one's throat. The men were nervous – and nervous pirates were even more dangerous than calm pirates. They were not edgy because of what might lie ahead, but because they were indeed worried about their captain. Smee paced up and down, Daniel was leaning on the front of the lorry, and Dark Owl was seated cross-legged; eyes closed, clearly meditating, listening.
At a soft ringing, everyone looked up, recognizing the rose fairy. Aurora flew to Smee, the only pirate who could understand her language. The old Irishman listened and nodded. "Our Jill's da and th' missy be a' th' manor. Now we 'ave t' wait more an'-"
"And prepare for battle," a familiar voice added from the dark to their left. Instantly cutlasses were drawn and Mullins raised the only lamp they had dared to light, only to see Tootles. He grinned at the pirates. "Wow, I never knew you to be so jumpy. Shouldn't you be the ones who startle other people?"
"Jus' wait an' I'll teech ya wha' it means ter be startled!" Akeele growled.
Tootles only snickered and approached Smee. He wasn't alone. The Twins and Michael followed; carrying their own lamps muted by a jacket; they removed the cover now.
"Shouldn't ya be at 'ome?" Smee asked, perplexed.
Daniel stared at the boys, too. "Dear God, how did you get here – and so quickly?" he asked, baffled.
"We flew," Michael revealed.
"Did you really think you can hoard all this fun for yourself?" Tootles teased.
While Smee palmed his forehead – "Y' blackguards!" – Daniel could only shake his head. "I asked you to stay home and told Peter …" He stopped and looked back the direction the boys had just come. "Where is he? I know you didn't come alone."
Twin 1 smiled. "Peter, Wendy, and the others are -" Twin 1 began, "- on their way into the manor. There's a secret underground passage Hook told Peter about –" Twin 2 explained, "and Kailen found the entrance, thanks to a few other pixies he met here," his brother finished.
Aurora heard that and did a loop in the air. She knew that her husband would be a great help!
"And now?" Smee asked carefully; knowing that the boys were here for a purpose.
"Peter told us to tell you," Tootles continued, "you should creep to the gate and hide there in the bushes, waiting for the right time to attack the manor. First he wants to get Hook out of the prison so that he can't be used as leverage anymore. Then we have to save the dragon, Father and Miss Victoria. And the professor."
The pirates looked at each other. To lie in wait and then attack was exactly to their liking. Smee nodded, reached into the lorry and took out a long object he had brought with him, wrapped in a blanket. "Right, brutes, here we go!" he ordered and walked towards the wall from where the street branched that would end at the gate. Dark Owl met the bosun, signaling that he would go first to check if the way was clear. He vanished without waiting for an answer, then returned as the buccaneers made their way on the short street.
"Three palefaces are patroling the grounds around the big stony tepee," he reported.
Smee nodded grimly. "I t'ot as much. Th' viscount isna stupid." he murmured and signaled Mullins and Michael to douse the lamps they carried. Now nearly lost in darkness, they crept along the wall to the gates and hid in the bushes nearby. They all knew that their success depended on timing. And as Daniel crouched between Smee and Michael, he felt an almost childlike excitement rising in him. This was an adventure he could tell his grandchildren about …
TBC…
Well, know Hook has back his whole memories, including the last moments he spent with his old childhood friend and protector. The memories are certainly emotional and heavy to bear, but they belong to his life. And maybe to be erased of them for so long made it easier for him to settle into his pirate-life that step by step changes back into a civilian life. Yet the buccaneer will always be a part of him – just like Mr. Darling reveals a few more inner strengths…
In the next chapter, Mr. Darling will confront Ashford, Victoria has her own adventure and Peter and the others are in the secret passage, facing problems…
I hope, you liked the new chapter and I would be very happy to get some feedback.
The next updates will come in shorter periods again, promise.
Love
Yours Lywhn / Starflight
