“And you believed him.” He lowered his head and gazed at her through the tops of his now green-orange glowing eyes. “A pirate.” He spat the word. “What is that worth, exactly? The word of a pirate.”
“Quite a lot actually,” Wendy found herself answering. They were the same words that Hook had spoken to her several days ago, when she’d first fallen onto the deck of the Jolly Roger.
And now she found that she really did believe those words. For no harm had come to her or her brothers. In fact. . . . Hook had been nothing but a gentleman to her.
“He’s treated me better than you have, Peter,” she whispered, lowering her gaze to look away from him and into the dark, reflective water. Outside, lightning split the sky and thunder rolled in to hammer against the walls of the cavern.
At the entrance of the cave, a particularly high wave crashed with more force than the others had. The tide was rising and the wind was becoming dangerous. It whipped through the cavern, causing the flames to dance maniacally on the ends of their torches.
But Peter’s thoughts must not have been on the storm. Because he flew off of the rock he’d been standing on and once more picked Wendy up, carrying her up to the very same landing that they’d stood on five years ago, when he’d first rescued Tiger Lily from Hook’s men and Wendy had judiciously untied her.
It was higher than the other rock and safer from the rising tide.
Again, Peter dropped her, and this time, she fell to the ground with a painful thump, landing on her back. Peter followed her down until he was kneeling over her, his hands braced on the ground at either side of her head.
“So, the good Captain turned on the charm for you, did he?” he hissed, his face hovering just inches above her own. “I seem to recall that you’re rather good at falling for that act of his, aren’t you, Wendy?” He pushed himself up and away from her and stood. Then he put his hand under his chin and pretended to be thinking. “Now let me see if I can remember what happened the last time he convinced you he was more than a blood-thirsty bandit. . . .” He dropped his hand in mock surprise. “Oh yes! I know now! He tricked you into leading him straight to our hideout, where he ambushed us and nearly killed us all!”
Wendy’s vision turned slightly red. “That’s it!” She brought her legs underneath her and shoved herself up. Peter backpedaled as she quickly rose and turned to face him head-on. “You spoiled, narrow-minded, immature, obnoxious, little boy!” She felt her hands curling into fists at her sides and wondered how much longer she could hold off before using them.
*****
A hundred feet away, in the sheltering shadow of a few large, black boulders, Princess Tiger Lily and her large companion watched the goings-on with mounting concern.
“You’re right,” Tiger Lily whispered with a shake of her head. “It is Peter.” She frowned. “But he’s changed so much. . . ..”
“He’s grown,” whispered Great Big Little Panther. His eyes were as large as his name; he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “He promised he would never grow up.”
“What do you think they’re saying?” Tiger Lily asked. She didn’t understand English – had never learned it. She hadn’t needed to because Peter always spoke her tribe’s language when they needed to communicate.
“I don’t know, but that’s Wendy,” Panther replied, his eyes widening even further as he realized that the young woman Peter was arguing with was none other than a grown-up version of the twelve-year-old girl that had visited Neverland five years ago.
“By the spirit of the Never Bird!” Tiger Lily quietly exclaimed. “You’re right again!” It was the Wendy Bird, the one who had been shot down by the Lost Boys five years ago. Wendy was the first and only girl Lost Boy Peter had ever brought to Neverland.
And she too had grown.
A tiny chiming sound distracted Tiger Lily and she pulled away from the rock to look behind her. The pixie lookout was waiting down below, hiding out of sight so that his shimmering light could not be detected by anyone. Three more pixies waited outside, ready for the signal that their help was needed.
The look-out fairy was waving at Tiger Lily now. She squinted at him, trying to make out his hand signals.
Then her eyes widened, just like Panther’s. “It’s Hook,” she said. “He’s here.”
*****
Tinkerbell hovered, unseen, in the eye socket of the ancient, massive boulder known as Skull Rock. Down below, in the orange glow cast by the two-dozen torches that lined the interior of massive stone, Peter and Wendy were fighting. She could hear the entire exchange, despite the mounting gale, and dearly wished to stay out of that particular fray. But, beside her, Tootles looked more than a touch troubled.