Hi, my dear readers,
Thank you once again for the comments and the messages. Yes, now we're nearing more action, but now you'll meet someone again who had held an important role in the last story. In the meantime Ashford and the others begin to explore Neverland and meet the Indians.
I don't want to reveal too much, so here we go.
Have fun
Yours Lywhn / Starflight
Chapter 21 – Encounters Foul and Fair
Neverland's mild climate and hours of daylight and nighttime were those you might find in the Caribbean. The weather seemed to go out of its way to make the island a delicious paradise. Also, in those latitudes, twilight in the morning and evening are brief, but not this morning. Twilight remained.
Aboard the Jolly Roger, of course Hook had noticed something was different, and rising, he went to his many-paned window and looked outside. A few clouds were moving across the pale blue sky, on the horizon the sun appeared to be just beyond the waves for hours now! Opening a window, Hook realized that a cooler wind was blowing. Glancing toward the beach, it seemed as if the entire island was holding its breath.
James Hook pressed his lips together, grim warning in his gut. He knew Neverland and its oddities like the inside of his coat pocket, and guessed what was going on. 'Here we go!' he thought, knowing instinctively that whatever was about to happen had truly begun.
Finally, at a time that would be late morning (no wonder he hated clocks!), the sun rose above the waves and climbed into the skies. And to the surprise of everyone who watched, its journey seemed to run normally. Hook stood at the rail on the main deck and observed the wooded coast of Neverland's eastern side. He could see the smoke rising from the location of the Indian village, and occasional glimmers of fairies, but otherwise the island was quiet.
Too quiet! Even the Neverbird didn't raise its raucous morning song.
Neverland seemed to be in a kind of shock. And not only the island. Hook didn't need visual confirmation to know how nervous the crew was. They all had their stories of the oddly confusing ways woven by the magic of this enchanted place. They knew the bizarre or wondrous events on these shores, but one thing you could count on: if the island was quiet or the weather grew serious, something had either 1) happened to Pan or 2) been influenced from outside of Neverland. And James knew that it was the latter.
"I don't like this," he murmured to Smee, who watched beside him.
The bosun/batman/confidant/valet nodded. He had heard this remark from his superior a handful of times since helping him wash and dress. Sighing, Smee's gaze wandered to the north, where the Black Castle nestled into the cliffs. These cliffs were another spur of the volcano that dominated the centre of Neverland. And quite unexpectedly, the old Irishman felt, with the fine instincts of his Celtic ancestors, that they were being watched …
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"Bloimey! Tha's a beau'y down there! She would sure attract a lotta 'tention if she sailed inta one a' our harbours!" Oscar Alister openly admired the line and colours of the galleon at rest below in the sea.
He and the others had camped under the cover of darkness at the base of the outer wall of the Black Castle, choosing to go southwards after the sun began to rose from the sea. The rear wing of the castle, where the old graveyard was located, lay on top of a hill at the feet of the higher mountain. From this locale, they had a breath-taking view – the wide sea, the waves crashing against the cliffs, the beaches towards the south, the temperate forests which indeed transformed into jungle-like greenery, as could only be found on the Mainland in a child's imagination. It was now protected by the large old galleon. It was an image painted by a Caribbean artist two hundred years ago – a picture from a book of fairy tales.
"Aye, t' be sure, a lot of noble, rich folks would loove to explore it, especially if anchored in one of those holiday towns along th' southern coast," Wickham nodded; a sneer on his scarred face.
Archibald Hutchings, who had his own spyglass, was no less impressed by the ship anchored near the shores towards the south. "End of 17th century, I assume," he said slowly. "A Spanish galleon considerin' the whole structure. And the ship is in very good condition, as far can be seen from here."
Dalton Ashford watched the ship, too, but for other reasons than his companions. He could see movements on deck, but he couldn't make out more. Yet he knew that the captain was there, perhaps watching the shores like he, Dalton, was observing the ship right now. But there were no more details.
"What now, your Lordship?" Anders asked, and Dalton turned his attention back to matters at hand: how to proceed. "We should start-"
Hutching's loud cry together with gasps from the others and a curse made his head swivel behind him. All looked upward. Following their astonished gazes, he felt the cold excitement run through him. There, a hundred yards and more above them, a huge gold-green creature was dancing through the skies like an oversized bird, but no feathers. Large, leathery wings carried a sleek glistening body with four legs and a long pointed tail. As if to emphasize its presence, it let out a loud roar, then the beast flapped its wings and spiralled even higher. Then a second shadow passed over them and they saw an even larger flying lizard with blood red scales following the first.
"Dragons! They're real dragons!" Kenley Fulsom breathed hoarsely. He hadn't said much since they arrived in Neverland, but now he stared with open mouth and wide eyes, pale and astonished.
"Another task," Einar said grimly, shoving his hat to the back of his head. Even he, an experienced big-game hunter, was profoundly impressed. You didn't meet a legend in the flesh every day!
"Another task?" Kenley almost squeaked. "You told me we were here to get a few runaway boys back home, along with the viscount's future bride."
Anders smirked. "Now that would be two tasks, right, boy? Our third concerns the dragons. But don't fear, we're not suicidal. We'll make certain that none of us be roasted by them." Then he turned his attention back towards the sky, and the direction they'd come.
The men were all deeply fascinated. Of course, they all had seen the dragons in the crystal ball in the dungeons of Ashford Manor, but there was an undeniable difference between seeing something as a bit of fantasy in a crystal ball, and seeing one "in the flesh." They felt the downdrafts from the large wings bending branches, heard the roars, and saw for themselves the grace and majesty with which these gigantic creatures moved through the air. For a long moment all goals were forgotten. They paused in awe.
Especially Archibald Hutchings. He had studied every legend of dragons he could find, had searched for the roots of those legends in Wales, Cornwall and even Germany and Switzerland. He had visited Sweden to get some insight into the dark riddles of the dragon legends that now intertwined with Nordic mythology. He had even travelled twice to China to find out why their dragons looked so different, and why they were adored as salvific creatures of good luck. He had visited the hills in North Wales near the Irish Sea. There the red and the white dragon fought each other over Wales in the cave beneath a castle that was associated with Uther Pendragon, King Arthur's randy father. He had spent his entire life, since his tenth birthday, to discover the truth about these creatures. And here they were, very much alive, very much real, in the sky above him. And one of them? Red, like the dragon of his homeland!
Archibald's heart pounded, joy and excitement coursed through him, body and soul. And while the Welshman in him wanted to kneel in humility and veneration, the scientist in him was on fire. This was the fulfilment of his deepest desire, birthed as a young boy, and the beginning of a new one: to prove the whole world that dragons did exist; that he, Archibald Hutchings, was an explorer and scientist deserving of honour and respect, not a crackpot, barely tolerated by his peers at university
The dragons changed course once they reached altitude, heading south. In seconds they were out of sight, their passage hidden by the treetops of the forest behind the group.
Wickham let out a breath. He had viewed the beasts in an entirely different vein than Hutchings. They were prey. "Umpf, these creatures are larger than we thought. I think four or five times of an elephant, if not more. I don't think that they would even blink an eye if you, Professor, attempted to sedate them."
"Yes," Dalton said slowly, mind awhirl, stunned by the sighting. "It's fortunate that we already made a few … alternate plans." Hutchings didn't react but continued to stare at the sky in awe. Shaking his head (that man was a true eccentric!) Dalton addressed the others. "I think we should split up. You, Einar, take the professor, Mr. Jackson and Mr. Alister with you. Try to find out where the dragons are nesting. We determined that the most likely place is somewhere in the mountains. We might see more flying, and they can lead you to their caves. Mr. Wickham, Mr. Russell and Mr. Fulsom, come with me. We're going south toward the Indians. They're certainly distressed by the dragons, too, and will surely appreciate it when we volunteer to get rid of that problem. And, because they're friends with the boy, we may meet him there, too – and Miss Darling as well." (He neglected mentioning that there was a fourth goal: capturing the boy Peter Pan and taking him with them.)
"Miss Darling?" Kenley Fulsom stared at him, pushing additional questions about 'Indians' and 'the boy' aside. "The banker's daughter?"
Ashford lifted a brow. "Yes. Is there a problem, Mr. Fulsom? Do you know her?"
Kenley cleared his throat. "Well … I knew of her from some years ago," he admitted.
"Is that so?" The viscount lifted the other brow, inviting the young man to continue.
A sigh escaped the lad. "She was a pupil in my grandmother's school. I was taking a note describing her misbehaviour to her father at the Bank of England. While I bicycled towards the bank, she and her brothers espied me and took chase. Their dog followed me into the bank and we all slid on the smooth marble floors into a group of managers. We landed in a big a big heap. It was … cringeworthy."
All of the men, including Ashford and Hutchings, chuckled or guffawed at the episode, clapping the boy on the back. "Yes, that sounds just like Wendy Darling," Dalton nodded. "My cousin, Victoria, is a close friend of hers. She told me that the young lady has a rather vigorous temper. And I adore her for it," he added for good measure.
"Then good luck to you," Fulsom deadpanned, earning him a glare. Shrugging, he mumbled something that sounded like "Your life, not mine."
Privately Dalton respected the boy's courage, but he only rewarded him with another disapproving glance and turned towards the others. "All right, gentlemen, you have your orders. Einar, Professor, find the caves and meet us to the south. When we're done at the Indian village, and hopefully have Miss Darling and her brothers in hand, we'll head back north. We should agree on a route so that one group doesn't miss the other." He took out the folded map Einar had made of Neverland. "Here, take a look."
The little group was oblivious to the golden lights in the thorn bushes nearby, the curious green faces looking down on them from the branches above. One of the pixies darted between shadows towards the fairies, whispering quietly to them. Then a few of both races dashed away, the winged little ones towards the Valley of Fairies between the Ancient Forest and the tropical woods, the pixies toward their own territory nearby in the southwest …
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Peter woke up with a loud yawn, and sat up with surprise, seeing the entire group and Wendy gathered around him. A worried Tinker Bell and a nervous Bumblyn crouched beside him.
"G'mornin'," he slurred. "Something wrong?"
"Finally awake!" Slightly sighed with relief.
"Finally?" The boy wondered what his close friend was speaking about. Sitting up, he frowned. "What do you mean?"
It was Wendy who told him that it was already early midday but that the sun had only risen a short while ago. Up until that time, it had been impossible to wake Peter up. And, of course, Peter came to the same conclusion as his friends. "Our invader and his men must have caused this change. I'm sure of it!" He rose. "Time to act. Tink, fly to the fairy queen and asked if her guards have spied these miserable grownups. Cushys, Bonbon, keep watch outside of the Nevertree. Be sure you stay out of sight in case we get uninvited guests. Runner, Jumper, Bluffer, Curley and Tootles, go to the portals the Indians and fairies wanted to watch. You might see the intruders, but don't confront them. Stay hidden." The boys saluted their leader. "Wendy, can you put together some food we can take with us before we go? Then remain hidden here. Slightly, Twins, Michael, John, and Nibs, comb the island. It may be that the invaders used a portal we haven't discovered yet, and they approach us unnoticed. I'll go and speak with Great Big Little Panther and then with the mermaids."
"I already made some packs with food, and your breakfast is on the table. And I'll be coming with you to the Indians, Peter," Wendy told him firmly. Then she turned to change from her nightgown into the Elvish dress.
"This man wants to take you back," Peter called after her, sounding worried.
"You should stay somewhere safe," Bumblyn added, his big eyes even larger than usual.
"Wendy, we don't know what's going on outside-" John started but was interrupted by his sister who sounded quite stern.
"I would have gone to Tiger Lily today anyway. Now Peter will be with me."
Pan shook his head. "Whatever you want to talk about with Tiger Lily will have to wait. We're not sure what really happened last night and this morning. So if this intruder who wants to take you back is really here, you better avoid him." He lifted a hand as Wendy started to protest, changing from a cheerful prankster into the Prince of Neverland. "Please, stay here. As soon as the danger is eliminated, I'll take you to the Indians, but for now, no risks, alright? I don't want to have to search all of England to get you back." He looked at her – really looked at her, and added quietly, "And I … I think that you won't be able to return to Neverland should you," he swallowed uncomfortably, "… leave it now."
It was the first time that Peter admitted that his friend had grown, not only in body but also in heart and mind. He hated the idea of Wendy becoming an adult, but seeing her standing in tall before of him, an inch (or more) taller than he made it pretty much impossible for him to close his eyes against the truth.
Wendy knew him better than others, and saw the anxiety in his eyes. And she realized the reason for it: he was about to acknowledge her changing body. These changes might hinder her return to his island ever again, should she be forced to leave. And the first thought that shot through her mind at this recognition was 'James.' If she were forced to return, she would be separated from him – forever.
No!
This thought was a knife in her heart. She once again had to acknowledge her growing feelings for the pirate captain, that these feelings were the reason why she was changing into someone to whom a return to Neverland could be denied: an adult.
"All right," she said quietly. "I, um … I'll wait here."
Peter smiled in relief. "Thank you." Then he turned around. "Lost Boys, John, Michael – arm yourself with your weapons, take your food and then off we go!"
A quarter hour later, they all were on their way; not knowing that the intruders had split off into two groups. Or that for Wendy everything would change this day.
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And so, the island was alive with hunters and searchers. The group around Einar Anders and Professor Hutchings looked for the nesting caves of the dragons, the viscount and his companions hunted for Wendy and the Indians. Former and new Lost Boys (including the two brothers) searched for the intruders. Fairies and pixies were also following and looking for strange mortals which didn't belong to the island.
Peter flew first to Great Big Little Panther and learned that Dark Owl had had another vison the night before. He had seen the old woman again, but she was not alone. Another old woman had stood on the other side of an arch made of stone and both had stared at each other; then a bright light lit up the arch, and the brave had awakened.
Peter didn't know much about visions, but John's blood brother might have seen how the portal was opened. So, this unwelcome visitor and his cronies had really arrived. He couldn't doubt it anymore, and so he flew first to Hook and then to the mermaids to find out if they knew more.
And what was Captain Hook doing? He had ordered lookouts in the crow's nest and every yardarm. Longboats were readied in case they had to go ashore. He and his men were all armed and obeying a certain inner witness, he also had the cannons loaded and ready at portside. The unusual cirrostratus clouds which didn't hide the sun but made the daylight somehow hazy told him enough about the island's status.
In the afternoon, every group was frustrated. None had been successful – well, almost. Because prying little eyes spied Anders and the others. The hunters and the professor were on the other side of the mountain, where the north flank was part of Dragon Valley, but the thick trees blocked their view to the sky, and therefore any airborne dragon.
Yet Anders and the others had been seen by gnomes. And being warned two days ago that strangers were coming, and that Pan had to know immediately when they had been spied, the gnomes did what they did best: they used the tunnels beneath their trees and then two of the youngest were sent out to find a pixie or a fairy to track down Peter Pan far more quickly than the gnomes.
After a length of time (that the people in the Mainland might call an hour), the message was passed to a few fairies, who instantly alerted the others. Then not only the fairies, but also the pixies were searching for the eternal boy, among them Kailen and Aurora. But as much as they searched, there was no trace of him. They found John, Runner, and later Nibs, but the leader of the Lost Boys seemed to have vanished.
"Maybe to the ghost-talker he flew," Kailen suggested and separated from the others to speak with the Indians, Aurora accompanying him.
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Tiger-Lily finished brushing out the furs and rolling them up, then returned them to her parents' tepee. As she crossed the clearing, she heard a stir near the camp. She recognized the voices of two of the guards, then saw a few more warriors hastening in that direction. She followed, then saw them: four strangers.
The news spread like wildfire through the village, by now most members of the tribe were together at the clearing. Chief Rain-in-the-Face and Great Big Little Panther stood before the strangers, arms crossed, staring expressionless at the four white men who were accompanied by warriors. Dark Owl's eyes narrowed as he recognized the youngest of the four. He knew that face, that hair. This was the same lad he had seen stealing the large pot and the ring with three legs, along with the old woman. But he wasn't able to discuss this with the wise man. His time to speak would come later.
Dalton Ashford and his three companions had walked south, lost their way, found it again, and for half an hour now they thought they were being watched. Wickham even grumbled that he had seen other, larger Will-o-the-Wisps, but the viscount assumed rightly that what Morton had spotted was fairies. He had hoped to avoid them as long as possible, but, what the heck? And then, quite suddenly, they had been surrounded by copper-skinned men in leather clothes and long black hair; armed and ready. One of them addressed them in passable English and had ordered them to come with him and his comrades. Well, Dalton wanted to visit the Indian village anyway. Now, they didn't have to search.
As they reached the first tepees, he looked around curiously. He had been to America twice, but had never visited one of the Indian reservations. He'd heard it reported that the Indians lived in poor conditions, and their prosperous past was missed and mourned. As he entered the camp, he realized that here was the life the Indians in America had before the white men came. This was as it should be: idyllic and peaceful. Then this feeling vanished under the weight of his upbringing. Like so many others, he only saw the 'primitive' way their families lived, saw their leather clothes, the tepees with unique and simple paintings, the meat drying near the fires, skins and other proofs of a successful hunt recently. He bit his cheek to stop from grimacing, for they hadn't even toilettes! He wondered if he'd passed through their offal area as they walked through the wood.
He eyed the women and children, then the men. Then his gaze rested on a man older than he, wearing a additional feathers and a beaded leather tunic. His rounded face showed the first wrinkles, and, just as Ashford had seen the pictures in books, a stoic face. Only the dark almond eyes seem alive with an inner fire. Beside him stood a man, probably older. Two black and silver braids hung over his chest, two feathers decorated his band, and his tunic was a sandy colour. Amulets around his neck told Dalton that this was the shaman.
Stopping a few feet in front of these two tribal leaders, one of the guards approached the chief. Taking a deep breath, the viscount looked around again. It smelled of wood fire, herbs, leather … Not unpleasant, but nothing he could get used to easily. Glancing at his companions he saw that Wickham and Russell were relaxed. Well, he hadn't expected anything else from them. And Fulsom? The boy stood close to him and murmured, "That young Indian over there, he's staring at me."
Dalton replied sotto voce, "Perhaps he's never seen red hair before," forgetting that Michael Darling had also fiery hair and was known among the Indians. The chief moved forward.
"What is it the white men want in this camp?" he asked in a strong voice and surprisingly good English.
The viscount also stepped forward, lifted his hat and bobbed his head in a semblance of a bow; the others followed his example. "My name is Dalton Ashford, chief, and I apologize for our sudden arrival in your camp. My friends and I come in peace-"
"That is yet to be seen," Rain-in-the-Face commented. " 'We come in peace' is something our forefathers heard many times, but often it ended in blood and sorrow." He fixed his black eyes on the pale grey eyes in front of him – eyes, he didn't like. They looked like old snow. "What do you want?" he asked slowly.
"Sir, we need your help," Dalton attempted a strategy he'd worked out in the manor. "We're searching for a few children and a young lady who were brought to this island. You see, their parents are deeply worried and we're here to return them home."
"No, you are not. Brave Feather and her brothers have been here before this time and did not need someone from the Mainland to take them back. Why now?" Yes, Rain-in-the-Face shared Panther's and Iron-Hand's assumptions regarding this man's visit to their island, yet the stranger's answer took him by surprise.
"Because of the dragons." Dalton played two cards at once. "They were not here before, am I right? But now they are in Neverland, endangering the children, the young lady, and your people."
"The fire-breathers are no danger to us," Great Big Little Panther spoke up for the first time, his deep voice filling the clearing. "We meet one another with respect, their leader and I have spoken together about many things. They have been here before. Their younglings are hatching. As soon as they're strong enough to fly, they will leave Neverland again."
The wheels in Dalton's mind turned quickly. "As soon as the young dragons are strong enough, you say? What is it they will need most? Food, right? I don't mean to frighten your women and children, but have you thought about the possibility that this food the young ones will need … could be them? Or even you?"
Whispers erupted around them. Panther frowned. "This is not true. You have come for your own purposes with lies to frighten my people,"
"Are you sure?" Ashford asked, appearing calm. "I do not question your wisdom and experience or that of your chief. You have lived on this island for a long time and know of the tricks and dangers which can occur here. But there are many legends about dragons in my world, too. Dragons are famous in our world for their deceitfulness. What if this leader only wants you to feel safe so that it is easier to hunt you later? I saw a few of them as we arrived this morning. They are enormous. Such large creatures need a lot to eat, and seeing that the most of the island is covered with woods would make it difficult for them to hunt. I am quite sure that you all in great danger here, and-"
"And in order to warn us, you left your own home, travelled between the worlds and came to Neverland's shores," Rain-in-the-Face interrupted him. (Ordinarily they would never do this, but Tiger-Lily's father had the words of his grandfather still deep in his soul. 'If you want to be accepted by the palefaces, act like them – even if our manners are completely different'.) Well, so be it. "You say you came to help us but brought trouble with you."
The viscount looked puzzled. "I don't understand."
"No, of course the white man does not understand," Panther said calmly. "You and the others have watched Neverland for days now. Your eyes were in the skies. Great Big Little Panther doesn't know how you did it, but in doing so, the white man has disturbed the balance between our and his world, and it grows every day. And finally, he has disturbed the balance of Neverland itself. The protective borders are weakened, the waves in the sea have changed their direction, the sun rose too slowly today, and magic that does not belong here spreads across the earth. The palefaces' presence here has thrown our island out of balance. Leave now!"
Ashford was glad that he had learned to control his features, otherwise he would have grimaced. This was going to be harder than he thought. "You say that our presence somehow disturbs the island's mystical nature. How so?"
"You were not invited, and you come with evil intent. You affected our home even before you came, now these effects are increasing." He looked upwards. "The clouds will thicken, the warm winds we know daily will mix more and more with cold ones …"
"It's called bad weather," Wickham grumbled and earned a glare from the viscount. And even though whispered, the fine hearing of the Indians had picked up his words.
"The marked man is right. It is called 'bad weather,' rare in Neverland unless we have unwelcome intruders," the chief said sternly. "Leave!" He made a sharp gesture with his right hand.
Dalton got the very uncomfortable feeling that the conversation was sliding in the wrong direction, like sand under your feet when the wave recedes. So he approached from another angle, still using diplomacy. "Sir, we mainly came for the young lady and the boys. I gave my word of honour to their parents to bring them home, and I don't think I have to explain what a 'word of honour' means. You are people who live by honour, too. If I leave without them, you force me to break my promise."
"The boys and Brave Feather will return when the time is right. Tell their parents they are safe here. You have fulfilled your commitment. Little White Eagle and Iron-Hand assure their welfare, and if they are in need, our tepees are always open for them," Rain-in-the-Face replied. "The white man should look at our children, our braves, our women. Do they look unhealthy to him?"
Ashford glanced about the circle at women and the children, and shook his head. "No, they look healthy and well-cared for."
"The same consideration has been given to Little White Eagle and his friends whenever they need help. This will not change in the future," Great Big Little Panther spoke up. "They can take care of themselves. As before, so it is now. There is no reason for concern. Except when strangers arrive who know nothing of our world. Go back from where you came. We say no more."
Dalton had himself still under control, even though his countenance was reddening. "I am sure that you mean well – you and your chief. But I have given my word. At the very least I must speak with them. Where can I find them?" To his annoyance, most of the group surrounding him began to chuckle or shake their heads, obviously amused.
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Watching from a tree at the edge of the clearing, Kailen balled his little fists and shook his head; beside him, Aurora frowned. These strange mortals were sowing distrust in the hearts of the Indians towards the dragons, possibly toward all other habitants of Neverland.
"Peter I have to find!" Kailen whispered. Aurora chimed softly and he nodded. "To his hideout. Watch here." He swiftly kissed her cheek, rose to treetop level and darted toward the Nevertree, unwittingly setting fate into motion…
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In the clearing, no one was aware of the hidden visitors. Great Big Little Panther was still speaking with the invaders. "Little White Eagle's home is a secret only revealed to his closest friends.".
Dalton made the connection with what he'd read in the diaries. "This Little White Eagle, it's Peter Pan, right?"
"That is a name he goes by outside of our village," the chief affirmed. "If you wish to talk to his friends or Brave Feather, you must first ask him."
Now, the viscount's fingers curled into a fist. Asking a half-grown child for permission to do something. Such poppycock! "And where can I find him?"
More titters. Panther did not smile. "He will find you."
The chief straightened. "You said you come in peace. Now it is time to leave in peace."
Time!
Dalton Ashford tried to stall for time. "My men and I need fresh water. Where - "
Rain-in-the-Face pointed to the right. "In that direction is a creek with water from the mountains. There are also berries. Refresh yourselves and return home."
"It's too late to reach the portal before evening," Wickham said. "We don't know these woods well enough to traverse them at night."
"You are permitted to stay until the sun reaches its highest point tomorrow. If you are still in Neverland, my warriors will make certain that you leave the island another way!" The chief's voice was sharp now.
Wickham's eyes narrowed. "Are you threatening us?"
"No, the chief reveals two possible futures you can choose from," Great Big Little Panther calmly.
"But-" Morton was silenced as the viscount slapped his hat against the hunter's belly.
"Enough, Mr. Wickham, you heard the chief. This is their home, and it's their right to welcome someone or not." He sounded reasonable; inside he was seething. How dare these savages order him around! But he had to play along for the moment. They were clearly outnumbered, despite their firearms, but this wasn't over. He looked straight in the eyes of Rain-in-the-Face and adopted a mask of sadness. "You know why we came. We are not your enemies, but we offer our help with the dragons, hoping for help to return the children to their home. Please allow me to see the dragons so that I may establish that they are indeed no danger. Then I can report this to the parents to ease their minds."
"What do you mean with 'see the dragons?' You already saw them, did you not?" The disquiet Great Big Little Panther had felt roiling in his belly since their arrival intensified. He remembered what Little White Eagle and Iron-Hand had said concerning the identity and the motives of the intruders. Perhaps he could learn the other reason these men had come.
"We saw them flying, yes, but we don't their number – or if they're as peaceful as you say. If I could speak with their leader, learn for myself that he and his group are no danger, then I can reassure the parents that their children are safe. A parent's fear for their child is something you certainly understand. So, please, in the name of the love of a father, tell me where to find the dragons so I can encourage Mr. and Mrs. Darling."
So logical. So human. But Great Big Little Panther was not only a 'ghost-talker.' He had a well-honed sense when it came to lies and their peril, and so he replied, "If you desire to speak with one of the firebreathers, then pray that you meet one on your way back. Or call out to one when they fly overhead. They will hear you, and they are curious by nature. Meet them with the greatest respect. Speak with them as you would one of your kings. Then they might answer you. But be warned: one offense and you will regret it. These beings you call dragons are proud and strong. You might say 'vain.' And they loathe disrespect, so keep my words close."
Chief Rain-in-the-Face raised a hand. "Enough. You came in peace, go in peace and never return. You have until the sun reaches the highest point in the sky tomorrow. Then we will make certain that you leave. May the Great Spirit walk with you and give you the wisdom you need." He looked to his left. "Quick Rabbit, Jump-like-an-Antelope, take four of our warriors and show the men the creek so that they do not lose their way." He turned on his heel and marched out of the clearing. The conversation was over.
Dalton sighed deeply and returned his hat to his head. "Come, gentlemen, we are done here." He looked around and raised his voice. "I only hope your chief didn't make a grave mistake just now." He nodded at the others and followed the six Indians towards the edge of the woods; the others followed him.
Panther had followed the chief. "Well said."
"The young paleface was not truthful. He did not lie, but he kept his truth close, away from us. And his curiosity concerning the firebreathers is disturbing. He wants something from them, I'm sure of it. And what of Brave Feather and her brothers?" The chief sighed.
"It is as Iron-Hand rightly predicted. The young one has intentions concerning her, but …" He smiled.
"But she prefers Iron-Hand," Panther nodded and smiled as well. "We don't need the second sight to know what is happening to those two. When they are together, one can almost see the bond between them. She has tamed the dark and sinister man in him, he wakes the woman in her. The young paleface desires her for himself, but will not succeed against the fire that flares in those hearts. And if we can help them discover their destiny, so be it."
"Shall we inform Iron-Hand about the intruders' arrival?" Panther asked.
The chief shook his head; not knowing the Peter had already visited the pirate captain. "No, not so soon. This paleface is the man Iron-Hand expected to come, one descended from the man who betrayed Iron-Hand's family. You know his temper, my friend. I want no war erupting here because of an old grudge."
Great Big Little Panther paused a moment in thought. "Yet the pirates' presence here could be helpful. I do not trust the one called Ashford. What if he returns and tries force?"
"We are not helpless!" It almost sounded like a rebuke.
"No, but they have firearms, as do Iron-Hand and his men. If it comes to a battle, he can be of great help." It was clear that Panther was unsettled.
"If it comes to a battle, we can ask Iron-Hand to be a brother-in-arms again." He laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "All is not so dark, my friend. Many storms have come and gone, and we are still here. This will be no exception." He patted him on the back and walked away.
Great Big Little Panther sighed again. He had an evil intuition, and it usually proved accurate. Turning, he saw Dark Owl nearby; waiting patiently for him and the chief to end their talk. As he approached, took a deep breath. "May I speak?"
"Of course, young friend," the shaman nodded.
"I think this night I saw something in a dream. And I know the young paleface with the fire hair!"
*** PP *** PP ***
Wendy had remained in the Nevertree until the afternoon. She put everything in order with Bumblyn' help, prepared dinner so that it only had to be heated up when the boys came home. Then she looked at her friends' clothes left in the hideout. She heaved a sigh. They didn't need needle and thread, they need water! And soap! Lots of it!
Throwing every shirt, trouser, sock she could find in her basket she usually used to collect berries, she left the Nevertree together with Bumblyn, waved at Chushys and Bonbon – who peeked out of their hideouts – and went to the small river nearby. If she couldn't talk with Tiger-Lily, she could at least do some overdue laundry.
An hour later she was done – after she rescued Bumblyn from the stream in which he had promptly fallen. She dried him in a fresh shirt, then made a makeshift blanket of it in which the little Hobgoblin could snuggle. Spreading out the clothes to dry over branches, she sat down near the water, wrapped her arms around her knees, and watched the idyllic nature around her. Bumblyn lay in the sun not far away, snoring. A butterfly sat down on his nose for a time before it flew away again. A few bees droned from flower to flower, and a frog jumped from a stone into the creek and repeated his efforts, as if enjoying it. A large white heron dropped into the water, took a little fish in its beak and flew away. Wendy giggled. What a way to go fishing!
Quiet steps drew nearer … hoofs? Wendy recognized the sound, and felt a wave of warm, gentle timelessness washing over her, a feeling she'd had during her last stay in Neverland. They had received help from-
Turning suddenly, Wendy looked directly into a pair of large, violet-blue eyes surrounded by dark lashes in a long white face. The white mane waved in a breezed not of Neverland, and its flanks were dappled in a different light, illuminating the elegant pearlescent horn spiralling from its forehead. Cloven hoofs were picking their way over the moss and grass, a white tail chased away a few curious insects. Wendy could do nothing else except stare and hold her breath as she took in the exquisite being of light and innocence. Joy filled her. "Milady!" she whispered happily and rose; her eyes shining brightly.
The unicorn paused and whinnied softly, observing the girl. Remembering, Wendy curtseyed, which elicited something like gentle laughter. Reaching out, Wendy offered a hand and giggled in delight as the unicorn pushed her velvety nose against her fingers.
"I'm so happy to see you again," the girl murmured. Tenderly she stroked white silky face.
"You have grown in body and soul, fair maiden," the mare answered with a soft feminine voice, a musical sound that seemed to linger in the air. "Your heart was always open to us." She cocked her head. "And it always beat strong for those close to you." The deep, wide-set eyes seemed to reach out to the girl's soul. "But now it beats with longing."
"What do you mean?" Wendy asked, knowing truly what the unicorn meant.
The other snorted quietly. "We both know of what I speak." Wendy flushed, bowing her head, then cleared her throat, smiling sheepishly. The unicorn nudged the girl's temple. "I warned you," it said. "I warned you that this impossible man who dared to treat me like a common horse would seek your heart one day – and seek he did. And found as well."
"I know," she whispered, and leaned her cheek against the sleek white one. "He … he kissed me." Her cheeks pinked.
The unicorn stepped back to look at the girl. "And thus the woman in you awoke, as it has done since the first Garden." The large eyes with ancient knowledge watched Wendy. "And now you're bewildered."
Wendy sighed, stroking the unicorn's face again. Here was someone she could speak with about the inner turmoil she was going through. "He's always busied my mind, even before I met Peter. But now…" She shook her head. "I … I hear his voice and see his eyes everywhere. If he is near and … takes me into his arms, I feel safe, I feel like I'm at home. And when he kisses me, the world stands still. But I feel there is more. There … there's an emptiness in me I never felt before and … and I just know that only he can fill it." She had looked down, almost ashamed to voice all those little secrets she had hardly admitted to herself. But now she glanced up at the mare, begging for advice and understanding. "I once told Peter that there is more than playing and pretending when we were children, and I couldn't answer his question about what it could be. I only said that I would become clear when we grow up – something that horrified him. At home they call me a young woman, yet I still don't know what this 'more' is, yet I feel it. I feel it every time James is near."
The unicorn nodded. "You're on the path every young girl must walk along sooner or later. And there is no turning back now." It took a deep breath before it said slowly, "The last hours of your childhood have begun. Try to enjoy them as long as you can, for they won't return."
Wendy blinked. "The last hours of my childhood…?" she repeated.
We have all seen a beloved animal smile, even if it isn't done with the mouth. Wendy saw it and treasured it forever. The unicorn's mouth curled upward, while amusement shone in its eyes. "You and the man were entwined the moment you heard of him, and he saw you dancing in the air with our little prince. You were a child, he was already a grown man; yet your fates were linked by growing feelings which were and still are new to you both. You both carry emptiness in you: you the lack of knowledge, he of too many disappointments and sorrow. You can fill these empty places if you trust each other, and if you dare to walk the path you have begun to its end. An end that can lead to a new beginning."
Biting her lips, Wendy again lowered her gaze. "I understand in principle what you say, but… it would mean leaving childhood. I … I love this world and …" She looked up as a few fairies flew by, their voices sounded like giggles.
The unicorn watched them a moment, before it said gently to the girl, "Growth doesn't mean that you stop believing in Neverland, or that you won't see the fairies and gnomes anymore. If you see with your heart, if your mind is open to the wonders of both worlds, you will know them. But the path you have taken leads only one direction, especially when a heart beats as fiercely as yours. Or his."
Wendy blushed again, and stroked the unicorn's long, elegant neck. "He wants something from me. I think it has to do with … the kisses or an odd tickling I feel when he holds me," she admitted. "And … it's growing stronger, but I don't know what it is."
The beast shook her head to chase away a few iridescent dragonflies from her mane. Then she answered slowly, "His desire has become yours. You will not resist it much longer. He touched your heart and your soul, like you touched his and began to heal him. The larger part of his sinister darkness has left him. He begins to fill with new light that will illuminate your way to becoming a woman, if you allow it. But be warned. Even now, cured from his scorching hate, he is quite dangerous."
Grimacing, the girl grumbled, "I know that James Hook is in his own way dangerous. He's a pirate, after all. You have to change yourself inside to embrace piracy, to kill, to pillage. On the other hand, every soldier kills if he must, and … James has his gentle side, too. And he is lonely – and still in much pain. He lost his father and brothers to treachery, something he only just remembered, and it brought new sorrow for him."
"I know. His anguish that night was great enough to call out to me."
Wendy stared at the unicorn with big eyes. "You were there?"
"Yes," came the simple answer. "I drew near as he overcame his shock. Your talk – the yearning for the other's nearness and understanding – were too strong to ignore. And it affected me in a way that doesn't happen often."
"Dear one, please explain?" the girl barely dared ask, still astonished that the unicorn had been close by as she and James talked.
"I felt compassion." The magical mare looked upward into the green branches, swaying softly in the warm wind and playing with the sunbeams. "Feelings are … strange for unicorns. We can feel sorrow, pain, joy, even love. But compassion is very complex. It doesn't come easy to us, but this man …" She glanced back at Wendy, violet eyes soft. "The darkness has not completely left him. The old grudge, the wound of grief, the anger of being forced to surrender to unfairness – it all still survives. He needs time, time he doesn't have anymore, because his past is catching up. He will need you, as you will need him. But be careful. One wrong move and he will descend into his old habits."
Pushing her long hair behind her, Wendy sighed. "I know that he endured tremendous grief and hurt – and that he is too proud to admit it. He is bitter, but also gentle. And he has kept a sense of humour that is not as black or mocking as before. He is on the way to becoming that man he was before he lost his family and his home. And I am convinced that he would never hurt me."
"Not intentionally," the unicorn agreed. "His heart beats for you – even if he is a disrespectful, churlish and uncouth man-"
"He is a pirate," Wendy said instantly, which made the unicorn whinny again, her own kind of laughter. This woke up a groggy Bumblyn. He sat up, looked around and stared at the white visitor. He beheld her in awe, almost holding his breath. There they stood: the Wendy lady and the unicorn.
"Your loyalty to those dear to you is strong, just like his." The mare lowered her beautiful head until her eyes met Wendy's. "Both should never doubt each other's loyalty. There will be those who will try to drive a wedge between you, using lies, evil deceptions. Listen to your heart – and have faith in your friends. All of them. You're going to need them soon. A great Spirit lingers around Neverland, waiting to be acknowledged, and asked. Do not forget the One you invited into your heart that day."
And there was the warning. The girl whispered, "You make everything sound so … alarming."
The unicorn nickered. "You fought along the little prince's side and soon it will be he who needs help. And you reached out to a man who was almost completely lost. You succeeded in bringing light into his darkness. But your own battle still lies ahead." She glanced at the dagger at Wendy's hip. "A battle you cannot win with an Elven dagger or even a sword, but with love and trust. Remember my words." She touched her forelock to Wendy's brow.
"At home finally someone is!" The screeching disturbed the harmonious nature of the moment, and while the unicorn snorted, Wendy and Bumblyn were startled.
"Kailen!" the girl gasped as she saw the little troublemaker in the air above her. "Don't howl like that! You alarmed me." She opened her right palm and the pixie landed on it. "What is it? You're out of breath and jittery."
"In the Indian village they are – the strangers. Crept away from so sharp pixie eyes and ears, slipped through the net of guards the fairies made and now with the chief and ghost-talker they speak!"
Wendy glanced at the unicorn before she asked, "Does Peter know?"
"Finding him we cannot. Searching for him we do, but not finding!" Kailen shook himself. "The strangers … oh, Lady Wendy, they are not good people. Some of them cannot see us even. An odd man their leader is. Young but … darkness lingers around him, not fully unfolded but there. And one with hair like we have. Not long ago pixie property he touched. Feeling it, I did!"
"What does the young man look like? Has he yellow hair and grey eyes?" As Kailen nodded vigorously enough to make his cap slip, Wendy wanted to speak an oath, but kept her tongue. She wouldn't do it in the presence of the Lady. "I know him. And what does he want in the Indian village?"
"For you and your brothers he asked, and telling evil stories about the dragons, that they the Indians would lure in later to feed on them. And not saying he did that another group of strangers there is – walking in the north they do." He shoved his little fists into his pockets. "But asking where to find you and the boys, he did, saying your parents worried and that to speak with you he must, or a promise he would break."
Wendy glanced up at the unicorn. "I don't like this," she whispered, not knowing that James Hook had uttered the same sentence several times this day. "So, he came with more men – enough to split in two groups." She addressed Kailen again. "And what promise did he give our parents?"
"Word of honour, he said. To leave the chief ordered but this man obey does not."
"No, he wouldn't," the girl murmured. "He isn't used to obeying anyone, and he will not leave until he has something he can present to my parents to keep that promise."
With big eyes Kalin stared at her. "Not go with him, will you?"
Bumblyn took the hem of her skirt, looking forlorn. "Leave Neverland?" he squeaked.
"What?" Wendy looked at him. "Of course not! He will never get me away from here. Any attempt will end badly for him." She took a deep breath and straightened. "He wants to speak with me? He can have that much, and only that much. And if he doesn't leave then his whole expedition will learn what it means when all hell breaks loose!" She gathered the hem of her dress.
The unicorn spoke up gently, "Facing him is risky."
"He won't dare anything troublesome – not with all the pixies and fairies around, or Peter, the boys and-"
"And me," the unicorn said decisively. She knelt on the turf, and Wendy's heart began to pound as she realized what the unicorn was offering.
"You would allow me to ride on you again?"
The violet eyes looked up at her. "Yes."
Wendy gasped in appreciation. "Thank you, Milady!"
"I come with you!" Bumblyn added firmly.
Smiling, Wendy picked him up. "Of course you do," she agreed. She quickly slipped onto the white back, setting the Hobgoblin in front of her, who instantly clung to the unicorn's mane. Her fingers found purchase in the thick mane, and the mare rose.
"Hold tight, maiden, and enjoy the ride. It will be the last time," the unicorn told her, knowing that it had to be done, for even a unicorn had to obey her instructions …
TBC…
Yes, of course the unicorn had to appear a last time. And, believe me, its presence will be very necessary soon – not only its wisdom but also its fighting spirit if it comes to the worst. Ashford has only begun to make a web of lies, false tracks and tricky plans – and his sinister side will grow.
In the next chapter you're going to read what I meant. Wendy meets him – and it goes really wrong. But Ashford isn't the only one who faces a first meeting. As you can assume, Peter will find a few of the strangers, too. And THIS means trouble (grin).
I hope, you liked the new chapter. I tried to mirror the Indians' way of speaking and behaving as natural as possible, and I did it with great respect to their culture. The talk between Wendy and the unicorn was a little replacement of what would have occurred if Wendy were in London and could talk to her mother or Victoria. I hope, you liked it.
Like always, I'm looking forward to get a few reviews.
Have a nice rest of the day,
Love
Yours Lywhn / Starflight