Hi, my dear readers!

I hope, you all had a nice Easter time. Thank you so much for the reviews. I know, the last chapters was a though one and you're all curious, what happens next.

So, no long words, but off you go to Neverland. And at the end comes a cliff-hanger (grin).

Have fun

Lywhn / Starflight

Chapter 19 – Time to Go

The sun rose from the sea to begin his joyous journey through the sky. The night retreated with the singing of the birds. Deer began to graze, rabbits nibbled the first herbs and clover, and the pixies darted through the woods and clearings to collect berries for breakfast. The newest fairies, born last night from a child's first laughter, were collecting dewdrops in a calyx to use for washing, and the gnomes began to make breakfast.

Peter Pan and his friends woke one by one; yawning, stretching themselves and disentangling limbs from others in the sprawling beds. Here and there you could hear 'take your knee out of my back' or 'you take your hand off my face.' Soon the underground house was bustling with activity. Only the 'mother' was conspicuous by her absence.

Peter was the first who noticed that Wendy hadn't appeared. After calling her name by her alcove, he pulled the blanket aside and found her sound asleep. Unusual! He gave her a shake, but earned only a groan for his efforts. "What's the matter with her?" John asked.

"She's sleeping like a hibernating bear," Peter answered, shaking his head.

The older boy frowned, bent over his sister and shook her, too. Yet the two of them had difficulty getting the girl out of Morpheus' realm. Her eyes fluttered open. "Go away," she ordered.

Almost instantly Peter was worried. "Are you ill?" he asked. "Shall I get you medicine?" This 'medicine' was only a pretense made of water, but, well, it worked for them.

"No, I didn't sleep well last night and I'm still tired," Wendy explained, eager for her pillow, and her dreams. Yawning, she pulled the blanket higher around her and closed her eyes.

"Let her sleep," John murmured. "Sometimes girl have … problems."

"What problems?" Peter asked warily.

"I don't know. It's a girl thing, but Wendy has them from time to time. Nothing to worry about."

Peter nodded with a "Hm." He left the little alcove and hushed the other boys. The sound level dropped slightly.

Wendy relaxed as she heard the noise lessen. Hook had awakened her in the woods as the first touch of light of the new day had reached the eastern sky. He accompanied her back to the Nevertree. She'd stumbled through the forest and he directed her down into the hideout, making certain that she slid into the underground without incident, illuminating the staircase with the lantern.

"Sleep well," he had whispered as she fell like a stone into bed. The last thing she could remember was him spreading the blanket over her and then … Yes, she had felt his lips on hers, gentle but also firm and, um, fierce. There was no other word for it. And she remembered that she had returned his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck, then drifted off. And now at the morning, moments before sleep took her again, she remembered the feel of his mouth ghosting over hers again, bringing a smile to her lips.

John frowned when he saw that silly, happy smile as she turned over. In that special moment, between awake and asleep, hidden secrets become visible, or, at least, guessable. And John had the feeling that her fatigue and that stupid little smile belonged together. Shaking his head, he left the alcove and helped the other boys with breakfast. They were interrupted as a chirping cheerful voice sounded from above,

"Knock-knock, are you home?" A moment later Kailen came gliding down the staircase, carrying a piece of paper with him. "A bright good morning," he called and remained mid-air over the table. "Odd night, wasn't it? Unsettled Laird Ghagd it did, and the fairy queen. Through Neverland's borders something broke – a magical thing."

"A magical thing?" Peter asked, on alert, remembering the discussions of the day before.

"Slipping through a rip in the border it did, but our Laird doesn't know what. But powerful it was, he said," Kailen told them. "Disquieted even the dragons, it did."

"It must have been powerful if it crossed Neverland's borders," Slightly commented, considering. "Maybe the invaders have arrived?" He understood a good part of Neverland's magic.

The pixie shrugged. "No strangers I saw when I came here on order from our laird to ask Peter if he knows what happened. But this I found." He lifted the piece of paper. "Hanging outside at the Nevertree it did." He dropped it into Peter's waiting hands, and Michael recognized it.

"This is a page ripped out of a book!"

"Barbarous! Who would do that to a book!" John said indignantly, already guessing who the malefactor was. After all there was only one person in all of Neverland who owned books. Yet this would mean that Hook knew where the hideout was, and, wait, that was impossible, wasn't it?

"Fixed by a knife it was," Kailen said, flying near Peter's face. "Your knife."

"My knife?" the boy gasped, and eyes darting to the spot beside his bed where his knife usually lay. The pipe was there, but the weapon was not. "Someone took my knife!" Peter growled.

"Who wrote the message?" Jumper asked, a practical question.

"The Indians don't write, and the Little People show up in your face," Nibs murmured, guessing the truth. "There is only one person who could have left the note." Peter, too, had already made the connection, yet he hoped that he was wrong. Otherwise it would mean that … that …

Knowing his friend couldn't read, John took it and squinted at the fuzzy writing. There were no ink and quill in Peter's hideout. Obviously, the charcoal from the end of a stick had been used to write the message. "Peter," he began aloud, "I've had a vision, and know who will come to Neverland. We must talk. Indian village. JAS Hook." The signature ended in a fuzzy flourish.

The chatter around them exploded, as all the boys were shocked and outraged that the pirate-captain had been in their hideout. John pressed his lips into a thin line. Wendy's extended sleep now made sense. She had awakened when Hook came into the hideout. John glared at the 'curtain.' He remembered the 'magical thing' when she gave Peter her hidden kiss aboard the Jolly Roger. Could it be that this time another kiss had inspired the magical island to react? A kiss that made his stomach churn.

"Enough – all of you!" Peter finally called, ending the noisy commentary. Then he glared at the message in his hands. "You want to talk to me, Hook? I'll be right there!" he hissed and threw the paper aside. "Creeping into our home, stealing my knife … what got into the codfish?"

'Spring fever,' John sighed inwardly, but wisely kept this to himself. He would confront his sister later.

"Let Wendy sleep," Peter ordered. "And prepare breakfast. I fly to Great Big Little Panther and will return soon. Maybe Hook has a bleeding good explanation for last night!" He took to the air and shot up the staircase, Tinker Bell after him. There was his knife, stuck in the trunk of the Nevertree beside an entrance. Grousing, Peter yanked it out, then took off to the Indians.

*** PP ***

After he tucked Wendy in (for the second time since her return) Hook toyed with the thought of staying. He had to speak with the boy, and so why not wait next to him as he woke up, letting him get the shock and panic this time? It would have been a little payback for Pan's visit last week. But, upon further thought, he a) would have to face the tribe of overprotective boys, b) would probably not be able to calm them all down, and c) they would surely awaken Wendy.

(While the pirate in him protested against the last argument and the gentleman in him gave the buccaneer a poke in the nose) he saw the wisdom of the first two reasons. Additionally, he had better things to do than sit around waiting for Pan to wake up. He would visit Great Big Little Panther. The man may be called a 'savage' in the Mainland, but he was wiser than any king or bishop. Perhaps Panther could answer questions concerning the sudden return of his memories.

Looking around for something like paper in the hideout (of which there was none, of course) he reluctantly took out the book and tore out one of the endpapers, hating to damage something as precious as a book. There was also nothing like ink and quill at hand, and settling on a partially burned stick from their 'oven,' he wrote the brief message in the dim light of the lantern. Deciding against leaving it on the table, he saw Peter's dagger and flute beside the boy. With a mischievous grin (and on that countenance, it almost looked evil!) he took the weapon with him. Outside, he slammed the knife through the paper into the tree trunk, smiling at the thought of Peter searching for it. Childish, yes, but it felt good to be the one playing the prank for once!

The captain finally returned to his men, who were all sleeping soundly, propped against tree trunks. True, it was late night/early morning, but slumbering in the wild with no lookout was stupid at best. "Someone could fire off Long Tom beside you," he growled, shaking them, careful not to lose the book. "No foolish excuses, brutes! You can thank your ministering angels that I'm back before something hungry found you. You might have started the day as breakfast!" he barked, getting them to their feet.

Groggy, the men followed him. Smee yawned and took a long look at his captain. The man positively buzzed with energy, his chin was firmly set and his eyes blazed. He might have been going on a raid. But something told the old Irishman that the younger man wasn't going to a raid, but into battle.

As the morning grew golden, the sun climbed as they neared the Indian camp. With no warning, two large Indian warriors stepped in front of them. Greeting Hook respectfully, one of them said, "Great Big Little Panther sent us and to request Iron-Hand to come to his tent."

Hook grinned. "Excellent! I was on my way to see him."

Moments later, James found himself sitting in Panther's tepee on a blanket, herb tea in his hand and a wooden plate with pemmican, corn bread and fresh berries on the floor between him and his host. The older Indian sat opposite him and sipped his own tea. Aware of a few traditions of the tribe, Hook swallowed his questions and schooled himself in patience while the shaman slowly finished his tea. He set the cup aside and fixed his eyes on the visitor.

"Last night the strong earth under my moccasins trembled, the air felt of lightning and the woods sighed. The Good Neighbors and the dragons grew nervous, and the birds held their songs far too long this morning. The direction of the waves begins to change, and the wind has stayed its whispering. Neverland is no longer in balance. Something happened while the moon made its journey across the sky and Iron-Hand wandered beneath its silver light into the woods, as our two warriors told me." His eyes pierced the pirate. "What happened?"

Hook lifted both brows. "Ah, a question," he murmured, and took a deep breath. But before he could begin, they heard a loud crow and a small shape dropped at the entrance. "Great Big Little Panther? It's me, Peter!" he cried from outside the tepee.

The Indian watched and smiled as the youth ducked to enter the tepee. "Come inside, Little White Eagle," he told the boy, Tink riding on his shoulder. "You come at the right time."

Peter bowed quickly, dislodging the fairy. "I had a strange invitation." Then he fixed Hook with angry eyes, hands akimbo, a frown on his smooth forehead. "You crept into our hideout, stole my knife and-"

"And a bright good morning to you too, Pan!" the man interrupted him with one of his crocodile grins. "Let's get the story straight, lad. I tiptoed down into the hole you call home so as not to disturb you. I asked Wendy to accompany me because our pretty storyteller has been keeping secrets. When I took her back, I borrowed your knife to fix my invitation at your door. Of course, I carry no hammer or nails with me, otherwise I would have used them instead of your knife."

Peter was almost in his face by now. "Stop! You took Wendy with you? Why? Where? How dare you kidnap our mother-"

Hook sighed dramatically. "Pan, calm down. I made a discovery to which I needed answers, answers Wendy had. And I needed them immediately, so I went to your hideout-"

"How did you find it? Who told you?" Peter demanded, crystal blue eyes narrowed in anger, fists balled.

"No one told me, you daft child. Two of your boys were careless and vanished into your home without realizing that I was only a few steps away." He cocked his head. "And before you split your sails, this all happened weeks ago. Possibly months or years. There's no numbering days on this island, as I learned last night."

The boy shook his head, propping his fists on his hips. "Great, now we have to search for another new ho-"

"Peter, we aren't enemies anymore. If I had wanted to misuse this knowledge, I would have done it already." Hook's voice was very calm. He gestured towards the shaman. "Great Big Little Panther has known about your hideout for a very long time, hasn't he?" As Peter nodded slowly, James added quietly, "So you trust him, just like you trusted me with Neverland's fate, even with Wendy's, the boys' and your own life during the fight against S'Hadh. And I think I've proven by now that your trust wasn't misplaced. Our dispute is settled. And even if I occasionally have an understandable urge to give you a well-deserved spanking …" he smirked when he saw the youth frowning again. "… I have absolutely no wish to kill you anymore. You come and go on my ship whenever you like, I was in your hideout once on urgent business. Don't you think that I have the same right as you?"

Peter made a face. "Well … yes … but …" He took a deep breath. "It's scary to know that someone can creep into your home while you're asleep."

Hook sat up straighter, and gave a loud sigh. "Then perhaps you can understand how Wendy's parents feel, how they felt when you came and whisked Wendy and her brothers away. Or how I feel when I wake up to a jar of cold water in the face."

Rolling his eyes, Pan knew that, though it irked him, Hook had a point here. Then he blinked. "But you took Wendy with you? Out into the woods?"

"We had a lot to talk about, and, as I said, I didn't want to wake you up."

Great Big Little Panther cleared his throat. "And I think the matters you talked about with Brave Feather are what we are here to discuss," he said. Tinker Bell nodded firmly. She sat on one of the blanket rolls and watched the three males, feasting on a berry, her golden dust now collecting on the cover. "Little White Eagle, sit down." Panther gestured to the empty space beside Hook. Grimacing, the boy obeyed.

"You wrote you had a vision," the youth addressed the pirate flatly. "What about?"

"Iron-Hand was preparing to speak about his vision," Panther addressed Peter, then Hook. "Tell, Iron-Hand, what pictures did the Great Spirit send you?"

Over the next minutes, Hook told both listeners about the vision. He kept the background concerning the Ashfords to himself, for that was not knowledge he wanted to share with anyone. The fact that someone from the 'Outer World' (or the Mainland) addressed him directly through a portrait of his younger self interested the shaman.

"Pictures hold great power. Some of our brothers in the land from which we came say that a part of the soul is captured thus." He cocked his head, his long silver streaked hair was still unbraided. "This young man, does he know you?"

Hook shook his head. "Impossible. I've been here for … three or four lifespans of a man, as I learned last night." He met the large eyes of the shaman and added, "All I knew once are long dead."

"I mourn with you," Great Big Little Panther said softly, realizing the enormity of loss his guest was facing.

Even Peter felt the ache, understanding what it meant. "M'sorry for you," he mumbled and meant it.

"Thank you," Hook replied. He knew they could grasp the consequences of the long sojourn here in Neverland for him and his crew. Even Pan.

"The growing and fading of the moon runs differently in Neverland than the shores we both departed from," Panther continued carefully. "But the span of time that lies between the birth of a man and the death of his great-great-grandson is long. Yet the young man who saw this image of your younger self spoke to you as your older self. Therefore, he must have knowledge of you, and what has become of you." His dark eyes pierced the blue ones of the captain.

Hook took a deep breath. He didn't want to speak about his past – he really didn't! – but he knew that he had to reveal part of it if he wanted his allies to be prepared.

"This painting … hangs in the former home of my family, as I said," he replied slowly. "And the young man … he is a descendant from my father's enemy who spread lies about us that led to my father's and two brothers' deaths." He heard Peter gasp, and saw something close to shock on Panther's usually stoic face. But the reason for Panther's reaction was different than James thought.

"Iron-Hand's words lead to one conclusion: he recovered the memories of his past." As Hook nodded reluctantly, the sage prompted, "All of them?"

Hook hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. All at once." Without turning his head, he knew that Peter was gaping at him.

Great Big Little Panther frowned. "Neverland protects itself and all of its peoples by strong borders only the fairies and Little White Eagle can pass. But your friend Grey Beard found memories, then Iron-Hand got back all of his. This reveals how weak our borders have grown – and how close the two worlds are now. Speak, what made you remember?"

Hook pressed his lips into a thin line, before answering. "Wendy … told me how long I've been here in Neverland – for almost two centuries! Then, suddenly, I could remember my family. Then she mentioned the name of my family's enemy. Ashford. Then my past … fell on me like a waterfall. It was well that Wendy was there to … to be a kind of anchor for me."

Peter realized why Wendy had stayed with the captain. "It … must have been a shock for you," he murmured, and as Hook only sighed, the boy muttered, "That's the reason why Wendy was so tired this morning. She stayed with you … to help you."

'If you could understand how she helped me, m'boy, you would be outraged,' James thought wryly, keeping the satisfied smile off his face.

Great Big Little Panther watched the captain with knowing eyes, then sighed again. "Strong feelings can overcome even distances and borders where nothing else can. An old score unsettled seems to have breached them. To learn how long you're here, then to hear the name of an old enemy were two shocks strong enough tear open your memories. You still desire to avenge your family?"

"Yes," Hook nodded, ignoring how Peter tensed. 'Hook' and 'vengeance' in the same sentence was never a good thing. The buccaneer cleared his throat and continued, "I never got the chance to correct the wrong, nor to regain our family's honor. But what can I do? I'm banished to Neverland, and the one responsible for my father's and brothers' deaths is long dead. Yet I have reasons to believe that this young man will be one of those the mermaid told us of."

"Why?" Peter asked. "Because he belongs to the family that killed yours?" Even if Peter was convinced that the whole concept of 'family' was overrated, he could understand the sorrow someone went through when losing someone dear.

This time it was Hook who sighed. "No, that's not the reason, boy. After the vision ended, some of the … tension in the air remained. Then there was another voice, one that sounded like one of the bogeys or gnomes here in Neverland. It said that this world isn't safe anymore and warned me to be careful."

Great Big Little Panther bent forwards again. "It warned you?"

"Yes." He frowned. "It called me 'Master Jamie' – a nickname the servants used when I was a child."

"So, a member of the Good Neighbors, one that knew you as a child," Panther suggested.

"And still in your old home," Peter said, thinking aloud, trying to imagine Hook as a boy, but even his adept imagination couldn't conjure the picture of the buccaneer as a child.

"Believe me, I would remember a bogey if I had known one before I came to Neverland," Hook sneered.

"Can you be certain of that?" Panther asked thoughtfully. "The Good Neighbors have their ways of clouding our thoughts, and white men only like to see what they believe to be real." He leaned back again. "But more importantly, we're not safe here anymore. And because both – the man and the voice who warned you – were at one and the same place, the danger seems to come from where you say the image lies."

Hook nodded slowly. "I see it the same."

The other man frowned. "But why does this man want to come to this land? To kill you, the last of your father's sons?"

Hook snorted. "I don't think it has anything to do with me. Perhaps he has different reasons, but one of them certainly is," he took a deep breath, "Wendy."

Peter stiffened. "Why Wendy?"

Panther: "Brave Feather? Does she know this man?"

"Yes. A friend of hers is related to him. She met him a few days before she returned to Neverland. And I think he learned where she is now, and seeks a way to come to Neverland, too. I'm sure he doesn't like that Wendy is here."

Great Big Little Panther understood to what the one-handed man was referring. "Brave Feather is becoming a woman…" he began slowly, but was interrupted by Peter.

"Nonsense! Wendy is still our mother, and my friend. A grownup could never do that." Hook and Panther exchanged a quick but significant glance; both decided that it was better to allow the boy his illusion.

"Yet this man, this Dalton Ashford, desires to court her," Hook stated. "Do you know what courting means?"

"Of course I do. He wants to marry her one day, but he has no chance! He would have to get past me, and I will never allow some dull grownup man to be a husband to my Wendy!" It sounded like an oath, and his eyes went to Hook.

The pirate knew why the youth reacted that way. He had taunted Peter during their aerial battle on the Jolly Roger during Wendy's first stay in Neverland, that someday another would be in Pan's place. He had sneered that another man would be called 'husband'. Of course the boy would interfere with this at any cost. And, to a certain degree, Hook shared this opinion.

"I agree," he said wryly. "Wendy deserves better than a boring grownup. Or, in this case, a malicious one."

"What do you mean?" Peter asked.

"I fear Dalton Ashford is," he paused, considering his words, "of the same treacherous character as his forefathers," the captain stated as calmly as he could. Yet the thought of an Ashford coming near his storyteller made him seethe within.

"Iron-Hand believes evil runs in this family's blood?" the other man asked. "It could be so. Sons learn from their fathers and pass their knowledge, their characters, to their own heirs. And if the man from that time had foul blood, then his sons' sons might be likewise." Hook nodded. "But Iron-Hand said that Brave Feather's visit here is only one reason why this man desires to travel to Neverland. And I agree," Great Big Little Panther continued. "Already before Little White Eagle brought Brave Feather and the boys back to Neverland, the leader of the firebreathers spoke of a change in the wind. I felt it, too. So, if this man truly seeks a foothold in Neverland, then he conceived this plan before Brave Feather returned."

Hook crossed his arms and thought about it. "I agree," he murmured. "I got the first three visions-"

"The first three?" Peter exclaimed.

"Yes," the pirate sighed. "And before shoot your mouth off that I haven't mentioned it before: those visions were about Wendy, when she was in the same library at the manor. And … the time she called for the two of us to bring her back to Neverland." There! He really couldn't admit any more. Otherwise even Peter Pan in all his innocence would get the wrong – better to say, the right! – idea, and why Hook was so receptive concerning the girl. And they really couldn't handle the inevitable jealousies right now.

"You … you had visions about the Wendy?" Peter's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"No one knows why anyone gets visions, Peter," James replied, avoiding a direct answer. Panther nodded in silent agreement. "But one thing I realized last night: the man in the other visions who was only a lurking shadow in the background is the same one I saw clearly in the last vision: Dalton Ashford." He straightened. "I think there is more to this story. Ashford certainly has another reason for coming here. And this other reason is surely the impetus of the danger that the mermaid spoke of."

"I agree with you there, Hooky. But what could make him even consider coming to Neverland?" Peter concentrated, conjuring and discarding possible reasons for their enemy to make this unusual trek. "Most grownups won't even admit that Neverland exists."

"Well, he's an exception. He wants something we have here, I'm sure."

"And we will not know what it is until he arrives. So let us leave off guessing," Panther stated wisely. "And when he does arrive, our warriors will know. They're leaving the village to watch the magical places where the borders of Neverland might open to permit the intruder's arrival. The Good People who go with them will deliver the report as soon as they know anything." He offered the plate to the captain and Peter. "Iron-Hand and Little White Eagle should eat something. Iron-Hand has not slept and his mind and heart were overwhelmed last night. And Little White Eagle will face a new adventure soon. Better do it with a full belly."

Both murmured their thanks and took a roll of pemmican and bit into it, adding a few berries to the spiced dried meat. For a few minutes the three males ate in silence, the daily sounds of the village surrounding them, then James asked the question that gnawed at him.

"You said my emotional shock ripped open the borders so that Neverland's magic could not hold back my memories anymore. Will I lose them again?"

Panther's dark eyes looked at him with warmth and sympathy. "This I cannot answer. If Iron-Hand's bond to the Outer World has been renewed, he will keep them from now on. If not, he will lose them anew."

"No!" James grumbled. "Dear God, no!"

Soon Hook and Peter bid their host a polite farewell and left, knowing that the trouble that lay ahead would be worse and more critical for them all than they'd thought. "What do you think? How did this enemy of yours learn about Neverland at all? Did Wendy tell him?" Peter asked, who had been uncharacteristically quiet.

"She said she didn't speak of Neverland to anybody outside of her family over the last three years or so. Even her friend, this Victoria, thinks Neverland is a fairy tale just like the adventures Wendy wrote down. But it seems Ashford believes them. And there lies the rub." Again he avoided a direct answer, knowing what would happen if Peter learned that 'some dull grown-up man' had sedated Wendy.

The boy and the man strolled through the Indian village, greeting a few of them nearby, and headed toward the edge of the clearing where the other five pirates waited. "What if he wants to kidnap Wendy to … to become her … her husband?" Peter asked quietly.

Was he mistaken, or was there really anxiety in the boy's voice? Looking down at him, Hook saw how unsettled the little pest was, and sighed. "Like I said, I think it's just one of the reasons he and the others will come. If he really is the one who wants to visit the island. But if so, we both know how to prevent it, don't we?"

"You can bet your last shirt on it!" Peter hissed, balling his fists.

"Well, two shirts have already fallen prey to our storyteller's love for adventure," Hook recalled. "If a third one is needed, so be it."

Peter understood, and began to grin. "That's the spirit, Hooky!" He clapped the man on the shoulder, then grew serious again. "What do you think? How close d'y'think Neverland and the Mainland are?"

"I can't even guess, Pan, but it sounds like we'll know soon enough."

None of them, not even not the fairy queen and the mermaid, were aware of the fact that the time in Neverland and the Mainland had slowly begun to run simultaneously…

*** PP *** PP ***

Mary Darling was certain something wasn't right. Her visitor was standing in her home in Bloomsbury in person: Viscount Dalton Ashford. And she simply felt that something was… wrong.

It was late morning, Maundy Thursday, and that evening, during the service in Westminster Abbey, King Edward VII would offer two poor people of his age (a man and a woman) the two traditional purses: a red one with Maundy Money for clothing and provisions, a white one with silver coins matching his age. It was an old tradition that referenced the command of Christian love. Afterwards sacraments would be done in harmony with the Last Supper. Yet Maundy Thursday was not an official holyday, so George Darling was still at the bank.

"You will attempt your trip to Neverland this evening?" Mary asked, while she led the viscount into the small salon next to the entrance. She had offered him tea, but he declined with the excuse that he had some business to attend to at his father's company before he could start the excursion.

"Yes," Dalton nodded, dangling his bowler in his hand. He did not want to linger here in Wendy's home. "The gentlemen who will accompany me have arrived over the last few days. Our preparations are complete. We will attempt to open the portal this evening after dark, to avoid prying neighbours. They and I will enter Neverland, find your daughter and the boys, and bring them home."

Mary nodded slowly, doubting that it could be that simple. "Indeed, we will be very grateful." She hesitated as she listened once again to her heart. "I know this must be dangerous for you and your companions, yet may I ask something of you?" Dalton nodded. Mary took a deep breath and said softly, "Please bear in mind that the habitants of the island mean no harm, at least not this boy, his friends and the Indians. I'm sure the same goes for the pirates, including their captain. As far as I understood Wendy and the boys, the pirates and Peter are living in peace with each other now, exactly like the Indians. They may have different ways, of course, living aboard ship, but they're not evil. And I think that goes for the fairies, too. I have not the knowledge about the Little People as my daughter or your former nanny, but those magical creatures helped the children and Peter Pan fight off an evil warlock. They are not malicious, and I implore you to avoid an open fight between you and the island's people."

Inwardly Ashford rolled his eyes. 'Naïve,' he thought. 'How like a woman. Don't hurt anyone, as if life could be that easy.' Aloud he answered, "Your concern honours you, Mrs. Darling. Of course, we don't want anyone to get hurt. If this boy, this Peter Pan, is as reasonable as he is described in your daughter's diaries, then I think we can certainly talk with him and come to a mutually agreeable solution," he lied through his teeth. 'And if not, he gets what any badly behaved rascal like him deserves: a strong hand and, a healthy spanking. That will teach him to stay the hell away from us and to remain in his little domain where he can play until hell freezes over.'

She continued, "He and Wendy are close friends, and I think he won't like her leaving so soon again. So please be patient with him. And regarding the Indians and pirates-"

"The American natives have suffered greatly, ma'am, of this I'm sadly aware. And I certainly won't repeat the mistakes our ancestors made as they emigrated to the Colonies. And concerning the pirates, well, I'm sure that they're nothing but stranded, rough-around-the-edges sailors. I read about the captain. He is an educated man, so I foresee no problems speaking with him."

He kept his optimistic smile firmly in place, but inwardly he felt only revulsion for the Indians, and contempt for the pirates. And one thing was clear to him: if this captain was indeed the final son of Marquess Shalford or an offspring, then he would surely send him to his final rest, late though it was. That family of traitors had to be completely eliminated, only then would the law be satisfied. No one could ever reopen the case of accused treachery, and his own family's property would remain firmly in their fists … er, hands.

Mary took a deep breath as she listened to the viscount's assuring words and saw his calm expression, unaware of what went through his mind. "Thank you, Milord, this is most considerate of you. Please know we are praying for your safety." She offered him her hand, which he gallantly saluted and kissed.

"My sincere gratitude for your kind words, ma'am. And when our pretty runaway is back, I intend to court her and to introduce her to real life. I'm certain that I can show her that our world is every bit exciting as is this other realm."

A tiny frown came and went between Mary's eyes, for she heard a warning in his tone. Wendy wasn't ready to be seriously courted. Wasn't this why she took off with her childhood-friend again? "Milord, it certainly is a great honour for our family that you're interested in my daughter, but she is still very young and-"

"And the sooner she learns the duties of a lady of the upper class and how to behave as such the better. I have serious intentions regarding Wendy, and your husband agreed during our last telephone call yesterday that he regards it with favour." He bowed his head. "I take my leave, Mrs. Darling. Please give your husband my regards and tell him that he shouldn't worry. As soon as I'm back with Wendy and the boys, I'll call you." He turned but paused one last time. "Oh, I almost forgot. Victoria told me on her telephone call yesterday that Wendy is 'ill'?"

"Your cousin was here Tuesday," Mary replied, remembering the brief interlude at the front door. "Obviously the two girls wanted to meet after the planned … rendezvous between you and Wendy. Victoria was very concerned to learn that Wendy is under the weather."

"Yes, she told me the same," Dalton nodded. "I think we should stick to that story. I don't want Victoria worrying even more than she already does. Learning her friend's stories are true and Wendy is in some other world could throw her off balance. Victoria is a very delicate girl and needed years to overcome her parents' death. I don't want her to suffer. She has been through enough." His ice-grey eyes were somehow … unsettling.

"Of course, Milord," Mary agreed aloud, yet she was confused. Victoria Ashford did not seem to her to be the kind to faint at the slightest irregularity. Mrs. Darling rather saw her as a strong girl, yet the viscount feared the knowledge of Wendy's true whereabouts would be too much of a shock for his cousin? Odd!

"Thank you, ma'am. Have a pleasant Maundy Thursday." With those words he finally took his leave and Liza accompanied him to the door.

Mary Darling lowered herself onto the cushioned bench. The viscount's words should have calmed her, and everything would be all right again soon. So why was there a definite feminine intuition that warned her of trouble far greater than they had assumed?

Liza entered; the folded newspaper under her arm. "Gone, finally."

With a sigh Mary nodded. "Yes. The … rescue mission starts this evening."

"On Maundy Thursday? That man's got a nerve!" the house maid commented wryly and offered her mistress the newspaper. "Thanks for letting me borrow it," she said, tugging a curl.

"You needn't spend the money for one, and George and I have already read it," Mrs. Darling replied with a tired smile, accepting it. She had such a bad feeling …

"Did you read about the burglary in the church in Surrey?" Liza asked. When Mary looked up, she added, "The thieves stole an old cauldron that once belonged to a white witch, it says."

The lady of the house made a face. "A witch's cauldron in a church! I sometimes ask myself what those people in the country are thinking."

"It's a very old cauldron, they wrote in the article, and last century they even brewed ale in it for the church's fair day." Liza sat down next to her mistress; she was family, and well acquainted with Mary Darling. "The church is located in Frensham, near Farnham and the old Waverley Abbey. Ain't the Ashfords nearby?"

Mary cocked her head. "Yes. Why?"

Liza shrugged. "Maybe … they needed the cauldron to get to Neverland?"

Chin dropping, Mrs. Darling looked at her. "Liza! Did you just accuse the viscount of theft?"

The little maid bent forward, her dark eyes fixed on her mistress's. "I didn't accuse nobody of nothin', but… what did you say? That his old nanny knows a lot about the Little Folk and collected enough bits and bobs to help that young man get to Neverland? Goin' to that realm without being invited by the fairies takes lot of gall. And a lot of magical power." She rose. "The woman is Welsh, I heard. And there is an old legend from Devonshire that all witches were chased out of Dartmoor to Wales after one of them turned a hunter, who was loved by all, into stone. I know that sounds peculiar, but all legends have a reason, so they say. Maybe this old nanny is more than we think." She straightened her apron, rising. "I'll take care of lunch."

With those words she went back to the kitchen, leaving Mary Darling searching for the article.

*** PP *** PP ***

Wendy slept until late morning. It was very quiet in the hideout, which told her that the boys were outside. The light under the Nevertree was quite dim. Stretching herself and finally throwing the cover aside, Wendy sat up on the edge of the bed, yawned and rose. Pulling the 'curtain' aside, she saw the disorder that was the boys' attempt to make a decent breakfast. But she was not alone. In the semi-dark she saw a shadow sitting at the table that turned out to be…

"John?"

The eldest son rose. "Good day, sister," he replied. "Do you feel better?"

Wendy nodded, yawned again and smiled at him. "You kept watch for me? Thank you."

The boy shrugged. "The others left to guard a few of those places that could be hidden portals. But someone had to be here when the candles are lit. No need to burn down the Nevertree."

Wendy padded to the other small table and washstand, which, together with the small 'oven' comprised the 'kitchen'. "You're right," she said while checking the pot with the water. It was still warm. "Where is Bumblyn?" Usually the little Hobgoblin stuck around.

"He went with the others. Peter thought it better to keep him from waking you with his clumsiness." John cocked his head. "I'm not surprised anymore that you were so tired. Peter said you were out half of the night in the woods. With Captain Hook."

Wendy paused in her motions, then the girl bit her lips and turned around. "Peter told you this?"

"Yes." John's eyes stayed on his sister. Only now he saw the smudges on her nightgown which had to come from sitting and kneeling on wet grass and moss. "He came back maybe an hour ago from a meeting with Great Big Little Panther and Hook, who left him a note outside, nailed with Peter's knife to the tree's trunk. Peter told us what happened last night and of Hook's visions, then he took the others with him to be on watch." He narrowed his eyes. "It must have been a very busy night for you, learning of Hook's visions, mainly concerning you, and also getting his memories back. He certainly had a lot to tell."

Wendy sighed, filled some of the warm water and a few sweet herbs into a mug and took it with her to the table, facing her accuser. "Well, yes, it was a rather long night, but for Hook it was worse than for me." She sat down on her usual chair.

"At least you were there to comfort him." John's voice was mildly scornful. "Not that you minded, did you?"

Wendy looked up into the stern face of her younger brother. With his short dark hair, spectacles on the nose and the set jaw, he was the exact image of their father. Even the tilt of his head was identical to George Darling. "Are you criticizing my actions, John Darling?"

For a long moment the two siblings eyed each other, then Wendy blushed. That told John everything, and with a groan he let his head fall onto his hands. "Oh, Wendy, have you lost your bloody mind?" he blurted. "You creep in secret out into the woods in the middle of the night with Hook and … and cuddle him?!" Before Wendy could answer, he added, "And what is this wild story that an ancestor of Dalton Ashford killed the better part of Hook's family?"

Wendy set down the mug and rubbed her temples. "I already told you and the others in London that two hundred years ago, one of the Ashfords accused Hook's father and brothers of treachery, and they were killed or executed because of it. Like Peter said, James got his memories back and-"

"James!?"

Oops! Wendy took a deep breath. "I … called him by his given name when he suffered a … a sort of breakdown. I just wanted to call him back, then … well … he said he liked it when I used his given name, so …" She knew that she was blushing again, both from the heat in her cheeks and her brother's glare.

"You even call him by his given name now," he said flatly. "Good God, Wendy, this is-"

"Private, I know," she cut in. "As his memories returned, it was a huge shock. He … he was in great pain and collapsed, so …" She took a deep breath and added softly, "Please keep this detail to yourself, John. He really broke down and suffered for a good while before he was able to speak again. He couldn't even breathe properly for some time. I don't think he would appreciate it if I spread the story around. You know how much he loathes appearing weak."

"I can understand that much, at least," John grumbled. He frowned again. "And it doesn't sound strange to you that he got a vision of Dalton Ashford, of all people?"

Wendy sipped at her tea. "What do you mean?"

Her brother sighed loudly. "Wendy, Hook is head over heels for you and he got bad visions about Viscount Ashford – his rival concerning you. A man who wants to court you. Don't you think that sounds … odd?"

This time it was the girl who sighed. "John, if you think James wants to discredit Ashford out of revenge or to eliminate a rival, you're mistaken. He saw Ashford in his visions before he knew who he was. Visions that showed a darker side of our 'dear viscount.'" She sat up, put the cup on the table and leaned toward her brother. "Do you remember that I was scratching my right arm after I came back home and that I told you that I had a nasty headache and felt sick that morning?" As he nodded, she pushed up her sleeve and showed him the tiny spot at the bend of her elbow. "Here, that's the reason why."

Inspecting the red 'bite' closely, even shoving his spectacles further up his nose to have a better look, John finally looked up. "This looks like … the mark of an injection," he said slowly.

"Indeed. James saw in the vision how Dalton took my arm while I was asleep and bent over me. Certainly he used a syringe. Tell me, what decent man does something like this to his own guest – to anyone without their consent?"

John blinked, confused. "Why did he do it?"

"That's the question we both had. I had my diaries with me while being there, and he was very interested in my 'stories.' He asked me about them during dinner. What if he sedated me to have a closer look at my diaries? It would explain why he recognized that the grown boy on the painting in his library and James are one and the same person! He even referred to him as 'the ominous captain of her stories.' He knows that James Hook was once James Shalford. But how? James lived a very long time before Dalton was born. He could only have discovered everything by reading through my diaries. And the diaries have a few drawings I made. Two are showing Hook. I'm sure this is how Dalton learned the truth – and more. He's coming to Neverland-"

"To get you back?" John suggested.

"I sincerely hope not, because, really, if I didn't want him before, I'm utterly finished with him now. I rather die an old maid than even consider marrying him."

John rolled his eyes again. "Don't you think you should give him a chance to explain himself? You're still guessing. You could have come to the wrong conclusions?"

Wendy shook her head. "Everything fits together too well to be wrong."

"At least for you and 'James'," the boy remarked. He let himself sink back in the chair and groaned in a way that told of the full range of his frustration, then he glared up towards the curved roof. "I ask only one thing."

"And that would be?" Wendy prompted.

"That I'm far, far away if mother or Aunt Millicent ever learn of your indecent flirtation with that blasted pirate!" Wendy began to laugh. "But do yourself and me a favour, dear sister: if that scoundrel ever tries anything more than flirting with you, tell him off. Or, better yet, give him a slap!"

"Nope," the girl said with a giggle. "It just feels way too good." When she saw the shocked face of her brother, her laughter rang through the hideout. And John got a very very bad feeling that things had already gone too far!

*** PP *** PP ***

Dalton Ashford placed the telephone receiver in the cradle and took a deep breath. Finally! He had finished all the personal preparations he could think of. He had called his parents in Dartmouth and had told them that he was very busy with running the company, and professed himself unable to visit them during Easter. Then he called Victoria and told her that he had visited the Darlings and that Wendy was still abed, yet the doctor was confident that the worst would be over soon. Victoria asked him on behalf of her Aunt Catherine if he would visit them during Easter, but he declined, telling her that he would travel to Dartmouth to see his parents. Finally, he arranged to be absent from the company, telling the commercial manager that he would be back Tuesday at the latest.

Then he had arranged for one of the new larger lorries which could handle all of them and their equipment. It was parked outside in the courtyard and Wickham's men were loading it with all they would take with them to Neverland. They had decided against sleeping in the open on the island. They didn't know the fauna in Neverland, and the tents might keep the Little People out of their hair. Dalton didn't mention it, but he felt safer with a roof over his head, even if made of canvas.

Additionally, Ashford gave most of the staff long holidays, telling them to spend time with their families, that he and his guests were going on a training for a planned safari, and that their services wouldn't be needed. There wouldn't be curious ears and prying eyes when he returned with a bunch of half-grown boys and a certain annoyed young lady from this 'safari-training'. And there would be no questions about what was going on in the cellars, because as soon as the dragon whelp hatched, there would be certainly a lot of noise. Except for Brynna, who'd lived in the manor for decades now, and Olivia, whose family lived in the north, all would be away for a week.

Finally, Dalton was satisfied with everything, hoping to keep all curious people away from the manor, while he was not there.

Brynna knocked and entered, closing the door behind her. "I asked Archibald and the hunters to come to the green salon to explain them the defensive measures I prepared for all of you." She sat down without waiting to be invited. "You're done here?"

Dalton nodded. "Yes, no one will have a reason to call or to come to the manor over the next days. No prying eyes or ears, and no stupid questions when we're back with the dragon egg, Miss Darling and her brothers."

"Good," Lunette murmured and fixed him with her eyes. He knew that gaze well enough.

"You have something on your mind. What is it?"

The old woman nodded slowly and took a deep breath. "I gave more than twenty years of my life to find a cure for you and the men of your family. I did everything within my power to prepare you for this excursion. I only require one thing in return. Something you must bring with you when you come back from this island of eternal youth."

The viscount cocked his head. "Of course, Brynna. You did so much for our family and me, I won't deny you your wish. What is it you need?"

Her eyes lit on him like daggers, and he shuddered. Her chin firmly set, she declared, "The boy. Bring me Peter Pan!"

TBC…

I guess, none of you saw this coming. The old hag is after Peter! Of course she has an own agenda, but that one… It will trigger a lot of chaos, not only in Neverland, but it also will bring trouble to all, including the Darlings. Mary was right when she thought that something isn't right.

In the next chapter you learn, why Lunette is after Peter, she also teaches Ashford and the others how to defend themselves against the Little People and Ashford goes to Neverland. Yes, he and the others really manage it, thanks to Lunette's help. But that's not all. You also will have a glimpse of Hook's life just before everything went down the hill and he had to flee.

I really hope, you liked the new chapter, so, please leave some reviews.

Have a nice weekend,

Love to you all

Yours

Lywhn / Starflight