Hi, my dear readers,

Thank you so much for the reviews and I'm so happy to see at the story-stats that so many people are reading this story.

Like announced, in this chapter changes 'threat' Wendy's last remains of childhood and Hook faces new riddles which are connected to the Mainland and to the secrets of Neverland. And you will meet the Klabautermann Esteban again.

Have fun,

Yours Lywhn / Starflight

Chapter 5 – Questions and Answeres

Wendy fell like a rock into bed, feeling like she'd run a very long race.

The evening had been long and stressful. She'd danced frequently with Dalton and many of the other young men who dared to ask her for a dance when he wasn't with her. She'd tolerated all of the vapid conversations; the never-ending chatter of the two aunts; her attempts to distract Victoria's relatives to keep them from noticing the obvious affectionate looks and giggles between Vicky and her suitor, Daniel.

But the icing on the evening's cake had been when Viscount Ashford asked her father for permission to officially court Wendy. He had looked at her appropriately moon-faced, and taken her hand while speaking with Mr. and Mrs. Darling. Of course her parents had agreed, and Wendy had seen no other option but agreement as well. Yes, she might have declined, but that would have been scandalous. Everyone else had been so taken with the news that no one paid a bit of attention to Victoria and Daniel. Dalton had asked her to accompany him socially Monday after he got off work at his father's company here in London.

And now, almost three in the morning, Wendy Darling lay in her bed, exhausted and attempting to come to terms with the fact that she had an official suitor. Which meant she was very nearly engaged

To someone she barely knew and had no attraction to.

HOW did this happen?

Turning onto her side, she stared toward the window that stood ajar. She felt overwhelmed with pessimism – as if she had somehow lost control of everything. Well, that much was true, she had no control over anything anymore; not over her life and not over her future! She wanted to scream, to run, to flee – but there was no place she could run to. She was tangled in a web of circumstantial social commitments which had led to this … this outrageous situation, and she didn't know how to escape.

'Everything was easier when I was younger,' she heard herself saying; all those years back aboard the Jolly Roger in Hook's cabin, when she spoke to him in his cabin.

'And then the mess starts…' he had answered; for once being honest.

"This is no mess, my captain, this is a catastrophe!" she whispered and absently rubbed her left arm where that red spot irritated her from time to time – a dot that looked like a bug bite, even though they were "out of season." Closing her eyes, her thoughts drifted back over the last hours. She wondered at the consequences of Dalton's request and her parents' permission. Being courted meant probably getting engaged soon, and then some huge wedding and marriage – and that frightened her. No, she did NOT want to marry – especially not someone she barely knew and who made her suspicious of him from their first meeting. Something was not right about Dalton Ashford, she knew it.

But on the surface, he seemed so … NORMAL, with that his rank and title. A handsome young man of noble heritage in a large historical manor with noble friends and a large business to run – the ideal suitor, right? It sounded like one of her stories of Cinderella, but Wendy had always given her stories a more … adventurous twist, including the insertion of Captain Hook, of course, who had been after the golden slippers. She remembered how she and John played as the participants in this altered story in the nursery. It usually ended with the nursery in shambles, beds in disarray.

It all seemed so long ago. The story of Cinderella passed off now like it was written down in the second half of the 18th century – and, to Wendy's dismay, it looked like she was for once indeed the heroine of this usually beautiful fairy-tale. But her 'happily ever after' was full of pitfalls.

What might she predict about her future? She would be entangled in a life she dreaded. Two, three, four dress changes per day. Afternoon teas with chattering ninnies. Polite conversations with older ladies who loved to correct her. Society scoffing at her ideas and scientific interests. A husband who laughed at her writing. Withdrawing while the men talked with each other about more interesting topics than flowers, fashion, babies and recipes.

Wendy pressed a pillow to her face and screamed. She. Did. Not. Want. This! She didn't want to be tamed! Obedient! Demure! Corseted! NO! Following rules that made no sense to her at all, caught in a life that was the exact opposite of the life she'd imagined. At that moment, nearly overwhelmed with despair, she closed her eyes as the hot tears now welled up and soaked into the pillow.

She had to get out of here, or she would be trapped for the rest of her life.

Throwing the covers aside, she ran to the window, opened it and looked out. The night air chilled her face, but she didn't mind. She felt colder inside than the wind on her hot face. Glancing up where the clouds parted enough to reveal a bright band of stars, she looked for one particular star. There! There it was: the second star to the right – the one place she wanted to be more than ever before.

Neverland!

"Peter, help me!" she said softly, while she stretched out one hand towards the second star. "Please, come quickly and take me away – or I'll be lost for ever."

The half-moon's light was caught in the golden bracelet on her outstretched arm. New tears blurred at the sight of it, and a dark voice purred in her memory: 'It isn't a present, but a pledge… Perhaps it will help you remember your promise…' Hook's voice echoed in her mind.

"I do remember my promise, Captain, but how to get back to you if Peter won't show up?" she whispered and lowered her head. "Please, Peter, hurry back." She looked toward the stars. "Or maybe you could find a way, Captain, just like the other times you saved me." Wiping her face with both hands, she took a deep breath. "One of you must come. Please!"

*** PP *** PP ***

At that moment (or was it?) night had fallen in Neverland, too. The bright moon shone on the tropical island and bathed the ancient forest, mountains, palms at the beaches, cliffs and the sea in a silver light. It illuminated the aft cabin of the Jolly Roger and shafts of purposeful light found their way to the figure on the bed, causing the gilded shell-shaped headboard to shimmer.

James Hook was sound asleep, but it was no peaceful slumber. His dreams were in turmoil.

He was in a room – a bedroom, no doubt. It was empty, but suddenly the door opened and the lights from the corridor revealed a young girl at the brink of womanhood, wearing a dress in a strange style. He needed only one look to know, who it was: Wendy. She looked tired and… scared? Her large eyes held a look of desperation. He gritted his teeth and lowered his gaze. Who had dared to disturb his Red-Handed Jill?

As he looked at her again, he saw she wore a nightgown – of course! – and stood at the open window. The air was cold but she didn't seem to feel it. Scanning the sky, she stretched one hand out towards the moon – or, more appropriately, to the second star to the right. And then he heard her quiet plea for Peter to get her. "Please, come quickly and take me away – or I'll be lost for ever."

Hook went rigid. '… lost for ever …'? Looking closer at her, he realized how much she had grown – not in size but in maturity. She was almost a young lady, of that he was certain. "Please, Peter, hurry up. Or maybe you'll find a way, Captain, just like other times when you saved me."

Hook's breath paused in his chest. She hoped that HE would come to bring her back to Neverland?

Then she turned around and he saw the glimmer of tears on her face. A slap would not have surprised him more. She was afraid of something or someone. And who ever dared to make her cry would be in serious trouble if he – James Hook – crossed his path. Somehow the pirate knew that the reason for Wendy's fear … was a man.

He watched her turn back to her bed and for a moment he thought he saw a movement in the corner of the room. Narrowing his eyes, he concentrated and recognized a silhouette lingering in the background – it was the shape of a man….

Bathed in sweat yet again, the pirate-captain woke up. Sitting up, he wildly looked about and thought he could smell a hint of roses in the air, then it was replaced by the fragrance of sea and his bedclothes. He was certain that she had been with here – not in person, but her soul – and that outside of Neverland more time had passed than he could have guessed. "Don't you dare!" he had whispered. "Don't you dare to break your promise, m'hearty!"

Then he remembered her eyes and her silent pleas to get her back to Neverland. No, she hadn't forgotten her promise. But Hook knew how society ran. A woman had very little say in the matter of choosing her future husband …

Hook growled deeply in his throat.

Husband?

Alas, she was still a half child and…

He stopped himself mid-thought. He had seen her trice now, and she every time she had been less and less a child and more and more a young woman. What if these dreams were real and she was indeed about to leave childhood for ever? What … if she was about to be married?

'There'll be another in your place – he is called 'husband'!' His own taunting words echoed in his memories. He had hurled at Peter that fateful evening during the epic fight that almost ended with his demise, and now, directed at himself, they stung – badly! The mere thought that another man would take his storyteller to wife was like a dagger plunged into his chest.

Unable to lay abed any longer, he rose; his breath heaved as he walked to the rum.

"Still got 'er under yer skin, 'aven't yeh?" the hoarse voice grumbled to his left, and he whirled around with a yelp. Who dared to approach without permission?

He groaned. "Esteban," he growled. The little sprite was sitting on his desk. Being the captain, he was the only one who knew the name of his ship's Klabautermann (he and Wendy – and three of the boys – and he had been very astonished to learn about it). "Even a Klabautermann should learn to knock!"

The nyxx chuckled, sucked his pipe again and blew a smoke-ring into the air. "In bad mood, are we, amigo!?" he teased. "Well, if one thing can rob a man of sleep, then it's a bonita señorita."

Hook snorted and stepped to the table. "She still is a child – in a way! Even you can see the difference!" He disliked all magical creatures, and he certainly was not fond of Esteban, but the imp could see straight through him – sometimes better than Smee. And from time to time it was nice to speak to someone without a mask. A mask? Stop it! He didn't wear a mask! He really was the hard and grim pirate, who…

"Amigo, for many people she is more or less a woman now; for others she is still a child and will ever be."

Hook poured himself a rum. "What does that riddle mean?" Was his voice in a different range? He was really trying to growl. And did Esteban's words mean that he – Hook – was on the right track? That Wendy really was a young lady now? Klabautermanns were sprites, and those beings often saw more than mortals. One way to find out. He filled a second glass and took them both to the desk, holding out one to Esteban.

"Oh, gracias!" the nyxx grinned, reading the man's gift and accepting the challenge. He knew why Hook had made the gesture; something that he'd never done before. Usually Esteban simply took what he wanted from the captain's table, but the mortal man was in so much turmoil that he even tried to bribe a Klabautermann for more news.

"Time passes, my friend – especially outside of Neverland." Another smoke ring, then a deep sip of the rum. "Ah, formidable!" he smiled. "Just like your fear of losing her," he teased the ship's commander and giggled, meeting the man's angry gaze. "Don't pretend so hard, Blue-Eyes. (The nyxx gave the captain that nickname, after he'd seized the galleon; not just named for the color, but because of the melancholy so often seen there.) I know you better. You would move hell and all the oceans to have her back – especially now, as she's nearly a grownup." That earned him another irritated glare.

Esteban laughed openly now – a raspy sound, as if old planks were rubbed together. "Don't be afraid. She still thinks of you, I know it." He met the piercing eyes of the buccaneer and smiled. "I see more of you than you know, amigo. She has ruined you. Oh, not in your treasure -" he waved his pipe at the luxuries around them. "We both know that you couldn't spend all your booty, even if you lived a hundred years in the world outside Neverland. NO! Here she changed you!" He jabbed his thumb at his heart, and added – before Hook could protest – a teasing, "May the fates have mercy on us when she comes back!"

Hook stared at him. "When she comes back? So is she returning?"

"That's up to the boy – but I think he knows now that he is needed in the Mainland. The stars passed her message to him." Esteban sounded as if he was speaking about the weather and not about something every astronomer would laugh off.

"'The stars passed her message to…'" James waved his right arm. "Never mind," he grumbled. "I don't need to know everything about Neverland's magic."

"And yet you need to know a lot more if you want to understand the position you're in – and will be in soon," Esteban replied and emptied his glass.

"What do you mean?" the buccaneer demanded. Wordlessly the Klabautermann slid the empty glass towards the captain, and rolling his eyes, Hook got the bottle of rum and filled the glass again. "Give it up; what you meant the position I'm in and will face soon?"

The nyxx watched him seriously. "Remember what the boy told you about his growing friends and the storyteller in the Mainland. Think about your dreams – of her appearance now. And then think how much time must have gone by for her to grow so much. Can you think of a question that might demand an answer?"

Hook blinked. "She left only a few months ago-"

"You sure?" Esteban interrupted him. "Like I said: time goes on and on – especially outside of Neverland. Collect your thoughts, the boy's tale, your dreams and your sense of time together, and you will see that something can't be right." Emptying his glass, he placed it beside him on the desk. "Gracias for the drink, señor cápitan. Good night."

"Wait," Hook began, but the Klabautermann had already vanished with a pop.

Hook stared at the empty place where the nyxx had sat. Dammit! Sprites and their bloody way of speaking in riddles! Sipping at his own rum, the buccaneer thought of what Esteban said. And then the ever-working clever mind of the pirate put everything the Klabautermann said and hinted together. And he knew…

Good God!

Gaping for a second at nothing, he was the next instant on full alert.

"SMEEEEEEEEEE!"

Okay, Hook had a strong voice and his shout could wake the dead, but not a deeply sleeping Irishman. Even three shouts later – the last one from the open cabin door – Smee still slumbered peacefully in his bunk two decks below. One of the two pirates on the night watch had to shake the bo'sun out of dreamland.

Five minutes later Bryan Smee arrived at his commander's quarters – clad only in trousers, shirt and sandals. His grey hair was in disarray and his eyes barely open behind the spectacles. By this time, Hook was pacing madly about the room wearing a pair of his breeches and his luxurious bathrobe; his hair a wild mane. He waited until Smee had closed the door, then he asked straight away, "Tell me, when did your voice break as a boy?"

Smee had been turning over in his mind a dozen different questions or demands that Hook might be summoning him to answer, but certainly not that one – and definitely not in the middle of the night! Scratching his cheek under the short gray beard, he thought a moment, trying to remember. "Not sure, Cap'n – maybe t'irteen or fourteen or so."

"And when was it over – when was your voice manly?"

"A few month later," Smee answered and cocked his head, blinking sleepily, curious what was this was about. Hook was agitated and flustered – a rare thing given his usual stern self-control. "Why do y' ask, Sir?"

The captain took a deep breath. "John was around ten or eleven, when he was here the first time. Now he has to be around thirteen or fourteen, if his voice has already changed, like Pan told me yesterday. And because we don't know when the boy was last in London, John could be even older now. The same goes for Nibs and Slightly. Michael reaches Pan's nose by now – and the little redhead was what? Seven or eight?" He turned his attention completely to Smee. "How much older than John is Wendy?"

Bryan frowned a little bit; still not getting why his captain asked all those questions. "I've no clue, Sir. One or two years?"

Hook nodded slowly. "Yes. Therefore she had to be… sixteen or so?"

"They're growin' up, no doubt about it, tha' is the way of children," Smee nodded. "After all, t'ey're in London and not here, so…"

Hook lifted his hand, as his confidante had hit the nail on the head. "Wait. This is what I mean. They're in London and growing up – since when? Tell me, how long ago was the war with the wizard?"

Smee blinked in confusion. "Errr, a few weeks – months maybe?"

The captain nodded again and pointed a finger at the boatswain. "And that's exactly the riddle Esteban was hinting at. In London, Smee, have three or four years passed, maybe more – and here only a few weeks?" He was now pale, even in the warm candlelight. "Smee, when not weeks, but years have gone by since Wendy the others were here, then how long have we been here in Neverland?" he whispered. He got no answer, because there was nothing the Irishman could tell him. They simply didn't know!

Neverland makes you forget everything that had to do with your early life – at least most of the time. Those who had a strong connection to people outside of Neverland, like Wendy to her mother, could fight off the magic, but Hook had been in its clutches a very long time – after all, there had been nothing left that still bound him to someone in the Mainland. But now, after all those dreams and hints he got – after Esteban's challenging questions concerning the running of time – a veil had been torn from the pirate's eyes. And now he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"If these few weeks or months are years in the outer world, then… we must have been here for… a very, very long time."

Smee wasn't the brightest man – and he was still drowsy from sleep – but he began to understand to what his captain was referring. "Y' think we been here longer tha' we thought?"

"Very much longer," Hook whispered; icy shock was creeping up his limbs to his heart and soul. "Consider it. Wendy attends to a boarding school, Peter said. There are no boarding schools for girls. Yes, daughters of the peers are well educated, but at home – and I don't think that Wendy's parents are peers or of the country gentry. They are of the higher middle class, I surmise, but not nobility. Yet she attends a boarding school. Since when do girls go to school on regular basis? Hell, she told me when she said good-bye that a fairy from Kensington Gardens told Niam that the children were all back in town and were packing books and the clothes which all looked the same. Uniforms are required in boarding schools. The lower classes never went to boarding school in my time, especially not the girls." He stared out the window. "What other changes happened in the world we since left? Better to ask: how much time has passed in that world since we were cast from the Caribbean Sea to this magical island?"

Wide-eyed, he looked at Smee, who was showing a definite pallor. The Irishman knew the answer, after all he had grown up with the legends and the beliefs in the fae. And many legends told that time ran differently in their realm than in the ordinary mortal's world. He was sure that the same held true for Neverland. They'd certainly been away from the real world for a very long time, but had never dared to voice it. Not for fear of the captain, but that saying it would make it all too real.

Hook gulped and closed his eyes. "Lord, what if decades have gone by?"

"Maybe Pan can give ye an answer," Smee suggested quietly.

"Pan of all people. The boy with a memory like a sieve," the captain scoffed, then chewed his bottom lip. "I know someone who can give us answers – maybe the only one who knows the truth. Someone I should have asked a long time ago." He straightened his shoulders. "Smee, ready the longboat. I go ashore in the morning."

"Ashore, Cap'n?" Smee stroke his beard. "To learn how long we be here? Why?"

Hook glanced towards the window, already losing himself in thought. "I have to know!"

"Why, Sir? We canna leave Neverland, no matter how long we be here. We tried it many times but next morning we always were back here," Bryan pointed out.

"Maybe there is a way to leave this blasted island – I've never asked the right person about it," Hook replied decisively. He knew his dream hadn't been a normal dream – it had been a cry for help across, what? Time and space? And if Pan didn't get that 'star's message' then he, James Hook, had to take action. "There must be a way to reach the Mainland!" he hissed; balling his hand into a fist. "I have to find it!"

Smee sighed. He had a very good idea why his captain suddenly wanted to leave the island so badly. The reason had dove-blue eyes, pouty red lips and was a kittenish wildcat, but he kept those thoughts to himself. So he grumbled, "I'll tell the night watch to make a longboat ready in the morning. I'll also inform Cookson to have breakfast and provisions ready at dawn. If you want to talk with the fairy-queen… " He met Hook's surprised gaze, and sighed, "Who else would y' want to be askin' those questions? She is, after all, a big part of Neverland and its magic."

The captain snorted. Sometimes Smee had his brighter moments.

Bryan continued to voice his intentions. "So, ter reach th' Ancient Forest, we've to row around the south of Neverland, then put to shore near th' Indian village. Tha'll take some time – an' an empty stomach is poor company on any expedition, so we've t' take some provisions wit' us." He walked to the door. "Anythin' else, Cap'n?"

Hook was brooding again now, but looked up as he was addressed. "What?" He saw his confidante paused near the door and surrendering to a yawn. "Aye, go back to bed. Tell the night-watch to make the longboat ready with the first rays of the sun. And Cookson shall pack provisions for us."

Smee sighed. Hadn't he just told the man that was exactly what he was going to do? Sometimes Hook was alone with his thoughts far too long for his own good. He simply said, "Aye, Sir, good nigh'," and left.

Hook stood alone with is thoughts. He knew that he wouldn't find any sleep anymore that night.

*** PP *** PP ***

At the manor, there was an unpleasant steady ringing noise from afar that suddenly stopped. 'Thank the Lord for small wonders.' Dalton Ashton groaned and pulled the comforter higher over his ears while he tried to go back to sleep. He was nearly there when he heard someone approach his bed, and then a polite voice, "Milord, I apologize for the disturbance, but Ms. Lunette is on the line and demands to speak with you immediately."

Dalton groaned again, this time louder. "It's in the middle of the night," he protested.

"Not to contradict you, Milord, but it's already half past ten. Your Lordship did not return until nearly dawn, well past the middle of the night."

Grimacing, Dalton rubbed his face. Good God, why had his butler in London to be so rigorously formal? He did his job quite well, but sometimes he appeared to be more arrogant and strict than the Ashfords themselves.

"I'm coming," the young Viscount sighed; knowing all too well that his former nanny wouldn't accept his refusal. He also remembered she had told him that she would call as soon as something important happened.

Two minutes later he was on his way to his study in the family townhouse in London. The daylight was far too bright, the corridor was too long and the temperature was too low – at least at the moment. How much wine and punch had he drunk? Too much, as it seemed. At least Victoria had accompanied the Bellinghams and that reporter, Henry-something, to their townhouse. He didn't think he could put up with her cheery mood this morning.

Closing the door of his study and picking up the receiver, he growled hoarsely, "What, Brynna?"

"Good morning, Dalton – there's no excuse not to greet me politely," she scolded. Her voice was tinny over the line, but the lilt and glide of her accent was unmistakable. She came directly to business. "I received telegrams this morning. One is from your Danish friend, Einar Anders. He is at his hometown in Denmark, Esbjerg, at present. He promised to arrive tomorrow afternoon after completing some business. The telegram is short, but he seems to be keen as mustard at the prospect of slaying a rare and dangerous beast – even if he doesn't know what it is. And he also said he has a few men standing by who can assist him -and therefore you - no matter what kind of wild beast you're hunting."

That was enough to drive some of the sleep away. "That's good news. Perhaps one of those men will be his right hand man, Morton Wickham. He comes from Kent and is an expert at tracking animals."

"Experts are what you are going to need," Brynna affirmed. "The second telegram came from our 'dragon-expert' in Wales, Archibald Hutchings. He is clearly gleeful at the prospect of proving their existence. He will take the night train and arrive tomorrow morning."

'Archibald Hutchings – what a name!' Dalton thought, but did not say it aloud. "Very good, Brynna," Dalton replied. "Then the expedition can begin soon. What about the, um, potion you need to make to open the portal?"

"It will be ready around Wednesday – enough time for your men to ready themselves for the greatest hunt they've ever known. You should be here when they arrive."

Dalton released another sigh. "Tomorrow morning I have an issue to address at the company, then tomorrow afternoon I will be paying suit to Miss Darling." He hesitated, then added, "I asked her father permission to court her, and he agreed."

"Good for you – and our plan," Brynna answered. "If we need more blood, you'll be near the source."

For a moment Dalton stood dumbstruck. "Is that all you have to say to the news that I'm courting a beautiful young woman?"

"At present, lad, only one thing counts: the medicine for your father and you – otherwise your chosen miss won't get to enjoy your healthy company for very long, don't you agree?" The coldness Lunette displayed whenever she was down to business startled the young Viscount, and not for the first time.

"Sometimes I think your heart is made of stone," he said drily.

"No, it is simply loyal to you and your family, but at times, righteous ends are reached by foul means. So, I'll tell your visitors that you'll be back tomorrow evening."

"Late evening," Dalton pointed out.

"Don't be too late. We've a lot to plan. I'll inform your guests concerning the subject of the hunt so they will be ready to talk strategy. When you arrive, they'll already know what they are to expect."

Dalton frowned. "You want to tell them that we're going to a mystical island to slay a dragon?"

"I want to show them the mystical island the same way I showed it to you. And I will tell them that we need a dragon-egg. If one or two of the monsters are slain by your Danish friend's skills, so be it." She cleared her throat. "Have a pleasant Sunday. And Dalton? Go back to bed. You sound like death warmed over. Good day."

A click and the connection was broken.

"Sometimes I think you still mistake me for a little boy she can order around," he grumbled at the receiver, and dropped it back in its place. Yawning, he rubbed his neck and looked at the clock on the mantle. Not even eleven o'clock. No, after the long evening – night! – it was still too early for him. Yawning hugely, he left the study and returned to bed; smiling inwardly at the thought of courting that beautiful but mysterious girl, and hoping that he would not have to betray her trust again.

*** PP *** PP ***

The high-shafted boots tramped through the tropical woods, followed by a dozen other feet covered in weathered boots or shoes. Here and there male voices grumbled about annoying insects, or about vines hanging in the way, but mostly the men kept quiet. It was not good to call their captain's attention to themselves when he was in a mood like this – not angry, but brooding. And he hated it when his thoughts were interrupted – especially depressing ones. Usually he strode with wide, determined steps, but now he trudged heavily, as if he truly didn't want to reach his destiny that he had been so eager to reach only an hour ago.

James Hook was indeed lost in thought, and still his feet carried him into a well-known direction: towards the Indian village. But the camp of the Natives wasn't his destination, but it was nearby. As the woods turned from tropical to European, he knew he was close.

His objective was located in the Ancient Woods – there one could find the spirits of the trees, the Green Masters, who had become one with their chosen plant. People claimed that the Green Masters were talking trees, but Hook doubted it. One thing he'd learned during his stay in Neverland, was the fact that nothing was what it seemed to be, and he assumed that the Green Masters simply occupied a tree as a sort of 'guest'.

And the grandfather tree and its complicated root system was indeed inhabited. No, it wasn't the Nevertree. (There he would have found Peter's 'new' hideout.) It was the tree in which a certain tiny but powerful being lived, together with her court. That he was indeed near was confirmed the moment he and his men were surrounded by fairies.

The faes were suddenly everywhere; their wings flittering in the sun's rays dancing past the roof of leaves above him. Each movement sprinkled the golden fairy-dust and outlined the grass, the flowers, bushes and tree trunks with a golden hue. One male fairy appeared directly in front of Hook's face as if to challenge him.

Often enough the pirate-captain had shown no respect to the fairies of Neverland, but no more. Not after the battle with the wizard, and especially not after the fairies saved him (and Peter) on the Mount-of-No-Return.

So, he raised his plumed hat and dipped his head slightly in acknowledgment of the challenge. "My apologies for coming unannounced, but might there be a chance to speak with Her Majesty, Queen Niam?"

The male fairy saluted him, turned around, and jingled something. Their hostile expressions turned to surprise at the man among them.

Hook had learned some of the bell-like language the fairies used, and so he understood most of what they'd said. "Like I said: I apologize for interrupting the important duties of your queen, but I beg audience with her this day. And yes, it is… necessary to speak with her today."

The fairy guard crossed his arms in front of his tiny chest, turned around, whistled piercingly and a few sentries, armed with tiny spears, raced towards them. Gesturing at Hook, the guard jingled something again, before pointing sternly at the pirates behind the captain, shaking his head.

"I understand," Hook nodded. "They will stay here." Glancing over his shoulder, he ordered, "Smee, you and the others remain here. Rest and don't do anything stupid." With those words he followed the sentries, while the watcher remained midair where he hovered.

The tree of the Faery court was tall and very old, and the old tangled roots created an alcove three or four feet into the ground. It was the large throne and ball room – the very same Peter showed Wendy during her first stay while the fairy-queen and her husband were dancing. It had prompted the eternal boy to ask the girl for a dance, too, but soon it had become too serious for him. Later, during Wendy's second stay during the war, Peter had begun to realize that he couldn't deny the emotions deep inside his soul he had once feared – the first tender love of a growing boy. Yet he had chosen to stay behind in Neverland; again!

Hook approached the tree with mixed feelings. He knew that the queen wasn't against him on principle anymore, yet he was wary. No-one could be certain when it came to the Little People – something Smee had taught him long ago and, Hook had to admit, his bo'sun had been right. True, with Smee being an Irishman, he had his heritage his side, but Hook, being Hook, needed conviction to agree to something that was against his nature. And he was not easy to convince. So, he waited a few steps away from the entrance to the Faery court, hat in his hand.

As Niam arrived, she radiated like the sun. Her white dress glittered like fresh fallen snow and her long wings glistened like hundreds of diamonds. Hook, who had been educated in Eton, bowed deeply with a scrape – elegant as a cat. "Your Majesty, I apologize for my hasty request for an audience, but my quest is urgent."

His obeisance seemed to please Niam, who watched him thoughtfully, because he could see a smile emerging on her beautiful little alien face. Then he felt pressure behind his temples, followed by a soft, feminine voice. She and the king were the only fairies who had the power to communicate with mortals in their own language by linking their minds to that of men.

'So, you came – finally,' she said; coming straight to the point.

Hook lifted both brows. "You expected me?"

'I knew you would make the right conclusions regarding Neverland's magic one day and then you would seek me out. You have questions, you want answers.'

The pirate cleared his throat, surprised that Niam knew why he was here when he had only made the decision a few hours ago. But she was the fairy queen after all, and the Little People often knew things before mortals even thought of them.

"You are right, of course. Pan… uh… visited me yesterday" – he ignored her mocking expression; they both knew what a visit from Peter on board the Jolly Roger meant – "and remembering our talk, it came to my attention that obviously… well, you were the only one who could provide answers …" He sighed. No, this was not a good beginning. Usually he had no problem with expressing himself concisely, but now, facing her, he felt tongue-tied. So he started again. "Majesty, does time run differently in Neverland compared to the Mainland?"

Niam lifted both brows and cocked her head. 'Time is a slippery foe. All beings feel it differently, for some it creeps, for the others it runs.'

The pirate suppressed a groan. Never ask a fairy for a straight answer, for they will say both yes and no. "That's not what I meant," Hook grimaced. "For my crew and myself, only a few months have passed since Pan and I fought the dark wizard. But I learned a that the oldest of the boys who left here already has a deep voice of a man. And when we joined forces in the Mount-of-No-Return they were boys, no older than ten or eleven. Now they have to be a few years older. I must conclude that in the Mainland time runs more quickly than here."

'And this bothers you – why?' Niam looked him straight into the eyes.

"If a few weeks are in reality years, my men and I must have been here… for decades."

'Yes – and again: why does this bother you?'

Hook's jaw dropped. He was momentarily without words, then, "Please, Majesty, if this is really the case, then we've been away from home for an eternity and -"

'You mortals are so quick with the word 'eternity', yet you have no grasp of its true meaning,' the fairy queen interrupted him. 'But it is not the prospect of being here for decades that has stirred you up. Your reason is something else – someone else!'

The pirate swallowed. 'Dammit, what does this little… uh, stop, she can read my mind.' He was about to rub his face with his hand, but remembered that he carried his hat in it. Sighing he mumbled, "If years have gone by since Pan's former lost boys were here, then… then she has to be a grownup by now." There, he had said it. He was troubled by the thought that the sweet little madcap was a young lady by now and he would never see her again.

Niam smiled, as she saw the face of the pretty mortal girl flashing through the pirate's mind. And she knew exactly why he thought about the female so much. 'To admit something to yourself is often the way to make things right.'

The pirate grimaces. "Alas, how shall I make it right? If she has indeed grown up – like I saw it trice now in… in odd dreams – then she can't return to Neverland -"

'Why do you think the girl cannot return?'

Hook frowned. "Neverland is the island of eternal youth – a realm for children. And if the girl has grown up, then-"

'You stepped on these shores, too, James Hook. And you are a grown man – then as now.'

Pursing his lips, the pirate-captain nodded slowly. "Yes." He pondered the new information. "So, adults can visit Neverland and even stay here."

'Yes, adults can live here, too, as you and your men can attest to – or the Indians,' Niam asserted. 'Anyone can come to Neverland if he or she knows the way. That goes for my kin and the other Fae, but also for the mortals. Yes, there are certain boundaries you have to master, like believing in this island or possessing one's own magic, but age is no barrier.

"So, you're saying that Pan's other Lost Boys can return, despite the fact that they're not children anymore?" He didn't realize how hopefully he sounded – a hope that had nothing to do with the boys.

Niam read it in his mind and scowled at him. 'You have no care for Peter's former fellows – we both know that the girl's return is all you desire.' He only stared at her, biting his tongue; not ready to admit it. The fairy queen sighed. 'You're stubborn like Pan,' she muttered.

"Another wise person told me several times that the boy and I share a few traits," Hook grumbled; remembering the Elf Giliath and his friend Thalion.

'Just be careful that Peter's 'trait' to disavow his own feelings does not rub off on you. You both have a talent for it,' Niam warned.

Again, Hook made a face. "A certain storyteller once said that I'm a 'man of feeling'."

'A certain storyteller who was able to pierce your wall of anger and bitterness, who brought light back into your dark heart. A certain storyteller you're desperate to see again – especially now, after you realize that she stands at the brink of womanhood. But you don't want to admit it! Stupid man!'

Hook growled deep in his throat. "With due respect, Ma'am, but I don't take offenses easily."

'An offense – or a truth you don't want to admit even to yourself? Be careful, Captain, denial leads nowhere.'

Staring at each other, it was indeed the pirate who gave in first. "So, time runs quicker in the Mainland," he returned to his original question. "How much quicker?"

Niam knew that he wouldn't voice what burned in his heart. And so she let it go, shaking her head. 'My kin has no number for it. Numbers are only mortals' way of bringing order into something they see as chaos because they are too slow-thinking to grasp different realities. But to satisfy your curiosity: much time has passed since you set first on these shores. The world outside of Neverland has changed greatly.'

"How long?" the pirate demanded, or pleaded? "Ten years, twenty?"

Niam only lifted her tiny brows. 'As I told you, my kin does not know numbers for the passing of time.' She looked up to the skies and grimaced. 'Why are you suddenly so desperate to get the Wendy-lady back?'

Hook asked, "What do you mean?" In the next moment, a low rumble of thunder rolled over the sea and echoed from the cliffs and mountains. An gust of wind hit the captain and the temperature began to drop rapidly, and clouds began to close over the island. Hook groaned in frustration, instantly recognizing the reason for the dramatic change of weather. "Has that brat decided to leave Neverland now, of all times?" he shouted.

'Now is as good as later,' Niam voiced one of their proverbs, and chuckled as she caught the man's dark glare.

"Later I would be back aboard my ship. I'm not exactly clad for cold weather, and the same goes for my men."

'Mortals and their oversensitive reactions to weather,' the fairy-queen scoffed, before she blew him a hand full of fairy-dust in the face that made him sneeze. 'Go, James Hook. Your ship is too far away, so head for the Black Castle before you are caught in the snow. I'm sure you and Wendy would be disappointed if the first thing she has to do when she returns is nurse you back to health.'

Hook scowled. "I don't need to be nursed and…" Then, "You think Pan has gone to bring her back?" Oh no, he didn't sound like an eager little boy at Christmas, did he? Niam's amused smile told him that was exactly what he sounded like. Brimstone and gall, his reputation was again at stake – and Miss Crabbiness wasn't even back.

The fairy-queen grew serious again. 'Her cries were clearly heard last night. Peter is not the only one who can understand the stars, for us their language is as plain as all the other tongues. She longs for his return, and he will find her.' From somewhere suddenly an eerie roaring reached them, startling them both.

"What was that?" Hook asked. "One of the dragons?"

'Yes,' Niam said slowly. 'The wind is changing, and it makes them uneasy.'

"You don't say! It's bloody cold," the buccaneer grumbled.

'I don't speak of the temperature, silly mortal. I speak of something untoward reaching out for our realm.' She whirled around herself and peered into the shadows of the forest; searching for the source of the discontent that woke in her.

"Don't tell me another dark wizard wants to blow up this ridiculous island," Hook sneered.

She threw him a glare. 'No, rather that some members of your kind are about to spread chaos – just like you used to do.' She turned back to him; the wind tore at her silver-hair and her dress. 'Go, before the cold becomes a threat for you and your men. The summer will return together with Peter and his friends.'

With those words she whirled around in a ball of light and sparks – and vanished from one second to the next. The other fairies flew past him, following their queen into the hole inside the old oak's roots. A few moments later the hole was closed with soil and leaves; locking out the cold.

"Great," Hook growled. "They are all snuggly and warm, and we can tramp to the Black Castle because Pan decided to leave the island while we're ashore. Thank you so much, brat! Another debt you owe me!"

Then he made a face. At least Pan was on his way to London. The buccaneer felt it in his guts that the sooner Wendy was here the better it was for her. Something – someone! – was a threat for her, and he wanted to see her safe again-

Another icy blast washed through the Ancient Forest. His thoughts about Wendy's return were driven from his mind by the cold. Closing his frock coat tightly around him, Hook began to walk back the way he had come. He knew that Niam was right about their new destination. It was too far to the shore and then rowing around the south of Neverland. By the time they reached the Jolly Roger, the sea would be frozen over, keeping the boat stuck in ice. So the Black Castle was it. At least there were provisions and he had extra clothes there.

Clapping his hat on more securely, he tramped back towards his men, now huddling together to keep each other warm. Smee approached, face twisted with concern. "Cap'n?" he asked. "What happened? T'e weather…"

"-changed because Pan flew away to London. The boy has a lousy timing," he spat, eyes scanning his shivering crew members. "All right, gentlemen, gather up our provisions and quick march to the Black Castle before we reach deep winter here. I'm in no mood to plod through snow – or be forced to ask the Indians for shelter."

And, of course, that was the moment it began to snow…

TBC…

It's Murphy's Law: when you think it can't get worse, it does! Well, that Neverland descent into winter-chaos when Peter leaves is nothing new, but to be taken by surprise while being ashore and clad for a tropical day, is really anything but pleasant.

Niam answered a few questions, but she also voiced more riddles. Yet she also held a mirror up to Hook and forced him to admit a few truths he didn't want to see. And this is the beginning of changes for him…

In the next chapter, Peter is back – and even if three of the boys are latter than him now he breaks his own rule and takes all of them with him again. And concerning Wendy… Well, our little hero has a talent to deny facts he doesn't like. For him Wendy is still the girl he knew from the first two adventures, but that she has changed not only in body, but also in mind and soul will become clear…

I hope, you liked the new chapter and I'm looking forward to get some comments from you. As you know, I'm dying with curiosity what you think of it all.

Have a nice weekend,

Love

Yours Lywhn / Starflight