“Michael. I love you, more than anything in the world, but Hook is right. You aren’t safe with me, and the Sudden Night isn’t safe anymore.”
Michael sniffed.
“When it’s safe, will I see you again?”
Wendy closed her eyes, and though she knew it was a lie when it came out of her mouth, she said it anyways, a thousand lies wrapped in a bright package of hope.
“I promise I will see you again. And when I do, we will go home.”
Michael’s eyes brightened through the steady stream of fat tears.
“Home? With mama and papa?”
Wendy nodded and a cry escaped her throat as she pulled her brother into a tight embrace, trying to make her love fall like a protective veil around Michael, her hands trying to remember the feel of his hair, the softness of his cheeks. Water rushed over their feet, and Wendy picked up her baby Michael for the last time.
“I will come back for you, but until I do, I need you to be the bravest boy in all of Neverland. I need you to stay by Lomasi’s side and not get into trouble. Can you do that for me?”
Michael nodded.
Wendy cradled his head against her own as she waded through the water towards Lomasi’s boat, Hook and his princess a step behind them. One of the Pilvi men reached out for Michael, who pressed hard against Wendy, her heart bleeding out at the clutches of his small arms.
“I love you, Wendy,” he whispered, before letting go of her neck. “I’ll be a big boy now.”
Lomasi opened her hand, and Michael took it with a sad hiccup. She turned to Wendy, her brilliant beauty a comfort in this aching moment. “I will keep him safe until you can. And you, Wendy, you will figure out a way to keep us all safe.” She helped Michael into the boat. Wendy reached out and took his hand, but no words passed between them. She squeezed it, one final time, hoping to give her little brother all the love and the hope she had left to give him. Hook reached underneath Lomasi’s whirl of hair and gave her a slow, gentle kiss. They then stared at each other for a long moment, without words, their eyes speaking confessions that Wendy could not see. The boat was rocking in the water now, the waves swallowing, inch by inch the last remnant of the sandbar until only a tiny circle was left. Hook nodded his head to the last patch of sand, and Wendy watched in fascination as the sand began to vibrate, giving its final pebbles to the ocean below. A tiny patch of remaining sand filtered into a star pattern, the ground below it dissolved into seawater, and in its place a plant was left standing. The captain bent over, and with a quick pull of his hook, snapped the plant from its rapidly sinking root, before blowing across the top of the bloom. At the touch of his breath, the sand peeled away to reveal a bright-orange flower, splattered with black dots like the work of a frenzied painter. He reached for his love, and she leaned forward as he tucked the bloom gently behind her ear.
“Until next time, my tiger lily?”
She nodded and pressed her lips against his forehead, tears streaming from her eyes. “Until forever.”
Wendy turned back and looked at Michael, who was sitting silently in the rowboat, watching her with wide eyes.
“I love you,” she mouthed. He said nothing, chipping the last remaining part of her heart into the sea. Lomasi climbed into the boat next to him and raised her hand. Hook and Wendy watched the boat slide away into the mist, only a curling whorl of gray the proof that the two people they loved had ever been there. They didn’t speak as they waded through the chilly water back to the rowboat, nor as Hook took the oars and navigated them back to the Sudden Night. Wendy stayed silent as the boat was pulled up and onto the side of the Night, and ignored the whispered alarms of the crew asking where Michael had gone. Queen Eryne’s masthead cleared the way in front of them as the ship lurched forward, Wendy’s stomach and her heart going with it.
Hook’s booming voice circled out over the deck. “Smith!”
“Aye, Captain?”
“Set a course for the Gray Shore!”
A grave silence fell over the Sudden Night as her black sails billowed out to meet the wind, and she turned north, on her way to bring Wendy Darling to whatever fate awaited one so bold.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
It was three days sailing to Miath, and the Night struggled mightily to make its way through the rough waters. The sea was hungry, its choppy waves cutting into the boat again and again, as if it had risen up in defiance of their journey. Making their way up to the mainland was rough, and Wendy saw more men throwing up than she ever cared to see again. She also, had made use of her sick barrel, though to her eternal gratitude, it had been in her own bunk, where she could wretch undisturbed, in a way that was most unladylike. She did her best in the kitchen, helping the new cook, a crass pirate named Cutter Blue, to get the meals to crew, though most paled at the thought of food in their bellies on such rough seas.
On their third day of sailing, the seas relented, and an eerie calm overtook the ship. In her cabin, Wendy pulled her hair up into the messy bun that was now her hair’s normal state and rolled up the sleeves of her pleated brown dress. It was time to go above deck. Missing Michael left a terrible ache in her heart, but lingering on it in isolated silence, she decided, made things much worse. The salty air was calling to her, and also a change of scenery was much needed for her dour mood.
The deck bustled with life, most of the crew working, but she spotted a few men enjoying the lulling green sea that lapped so gently at the ship’s hull, a lover’s caress. The sky and the sea were tinted a pale teal, the water so sparkling and clear that Wendy watched a spotted giant sea turtle, easily the size of a dining room table, swim underneath the boat. She ran to the other side of the ship, delighted to see the turtle emerge underneath the starboard, happily munching a mouthful of dark-green seaweed.
“Look!” She pointed to the nearest pirate, who happened to be Redd.
The old man squinted and raised his eyepatch. “Helps me see with the other,” he explained. The wet, black slash where his eye had been moved up and down, revealing the deep hole within in. Wendy had once found it revolting, but now she barely noticed it. Redd peered at the turtle.
“Ah, yes, we call that a Lulu Leatherback! Its shell is oily, and those purple markings make it able to blend in with the coral. Likes seaweed, but it also has been known to hunt crab now and then. Gorgeous creature, ain’t she? No doubt she’s going to lay her eggs off the Gray Shore.” He pointed. “She’s headed the same way we are!”
Wendy nodded, breathless at such wild beauty. Redd snapped his eye patch back into place.
“She’s outrunning the storm. Lulu Leatherbacks also make a great soup.” He licked his lips. “Mmm … let Cutter Blue know that we’re in turtle-soup waters, and that maybe he ought get to fishin’ in his free time.”
“I most certainly will not,” replied Wendy. “Let her swim and lay her eggs.”
Redd patted her hard on the back. “Aye, the weaker sex can be so soft. ‘Tis nice to remember sometimes.”
“I prefer the words ‘vastly intelligent’ to soft,” smiled Wendy.
“Argh, ’course you do.”
Redd stumbled away, pulling his flask from his belt before enjoying a long drink from the sweating beverage. Wendy’s mouth watered.
“Enjoy this weather while it lasts—aye, there’s a bad storm afoot!” Smith’s voice interrupted their conversation, as it always did.
“Redd, ain’t no time to be chit-chatting when there’s work to be done, you gizzard sea bastard!”
Redd winked at Wendy.
“Let me know if you see any more—lots of sea creatures take shelter near the Gray Shore. It’s their little playground. Safe with the mermaids, they are. Lucky beasts. What I wouldn’t give to spend a day in their company!”
Voodoo laughed as he walked by, his taut brown shoulders rippling in the sunlight, a thick rope slung across his shoulders.
“If you spent a day in their company, it would be as part of their bone garden, not staring at those p
retty black eyes of theirs.”
“REDD!” The tip of a whip snapped the side of Redd’s arm, leaving a raised welt. “If you’ve got better things to do at the bottom of the sea, by all means.” Smith leered at Wendy just over Redd’s shoulder. “Get to work. I’ll not tell you again.”
Redd limped away, and Wendy turned back to the sea. She could feel Smith’s presence lumbering over her, his shadow swallowing her own.
“I don’t know what Hook told you about Miath.”
“Nothing really at all.”
“That’s ’cause we don’t know much about it. Can’t really visit the lagoon just because you feel like it. But, I can tell you something, I’ve seen them rip men’s throats open with their bare hands. They are strong as oxes, and lovely as poison that goes down like wine. You keep your wits about you, girl. Get what you need and get back to the ship.”
Wendy was moved by Smith’s concern and turned to him with an amused half smile.
“Are you actually worried about me? Could it be that you are coming to like the Darlings on this boat?” She batted her eyelashes playfully at him. “Are you going to miss me, Smee?”
Smith growled in her direction and snapped the whip into his open palm.
“Don’t push it girl. I’d still trade you for a fresh mango.”
“Why Smith, that is positively the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Don’t repeat it.”
Evening crept in on silent paper feet, and she watched the pale-green seas grow darker. The edge of the horizon where the sun met the sea was a mottled yellow; ominous blue clouds overhead grew heavy with rain. Hook’s orders rang down from the bowsprit.
“Batten down the hatches! Deadlight our girl!” and the crew was consumed with strapping down everything they could find. Non-essential crew was dismissed below deck, each carrying their own bucket and a stern warning that if the captain heard a single complaint, they would be pulled behind the ship for the duration of the storm.
Wendy locked herself into her tiny room, missing Michael dearly as she crawled into her cold bed. Unnerved by the growing heaving of the ship, she let her mind drift somewhere she never let it: memories of Peter flooded in, her lust for him and her general revulsion and terror now that she finally understood who he truly was. Part Shadow, part boy. His lies unfolded like the pages of the book before her, and her heart grew heavy with remorse at all that she had almost given him. His grin had passed through her body like a ghost. Her eyes fluttered as she could feel her body grow heavy, sinking into the waves and the straw mattress underneath her. She remembered the night in Tink’s lantern, at the heat from Peter’s hands that had brushed her skin, his lips trailing fire over her body.
But where her pulse rose at the memory, her brain countered. He had dropped her. He was responsible for the death of a race, for the death of an endless stream of boys, and he had taken John from her. Finally, her true heart chimed in, and she fell asleep in the most-comforting memory she had: being wrapped in Booth’s arms, the smell of books and coffee grounds upon his skin.
Something was nudging her awake. She sat up with a gasp, flailing her arms wide, clawing out at whatever was grasping her arm. He was here; he was back. Barnaby had come back for her. She wrenched away from the arm, shoving herself back in between the bed and the wall.
“GET AWAY FROM ME!” she screamed.
“Good God, Miss Darling,” Hook’s voice crept into her ear. “We must get you some rum before you go to bed.”
Wendy was flustered.
“What … why are you …?”
“No time to talk. Get dressed and come up to the deck. I have but a few minutes before I will be needed again. It’s a literal lull in the storm.”
“I was sleeping, actually.”
Hook held his lantern in front of his face, and Wendy was taken aback by the look of boyish excitement in his eyes. He looked positively joyful, an odd grin plastered stupidly on his face. The Sudden Night rocked violently to the right, and Wendy grasped onto the mattress to avoid being pitched across the room. Hook barely swayed on his feet.
“Quickly now, landlubber! Throw a cloak over your nightgown and follow me!”
Wendy paused and Hook turned away from her with a sigh. “Oh right. I forgot you are a modest girl. Of course. I’ll meet you outside, but hurry!”
His patience was lost as she stumbled upon climbing out of bed, the rocking of the boat throwing her off balance.
“Oh for God’s sake, here, take mine. Your sea legs are positively squiblike.”
He threw his navy military jacket over her shoulders.
“C’mon, Miss Darling, you’re missing all the fun.” The captain threw open her hidden door, surging out into the hallway. “Up to the deck!”
The Night pitched rough, the bowsprit dipping and rearing its head. Wendy saw foamy water heaving outside the port windows that lined the hallway. She climbed up the Jolly Staircase, her hands pulling her up one step at a time, trying to shake the fog of deep sleep that still clouded her mind. Captain Hook pushed her up and out onto the deck, into a pounding rain violently splattering the deck. Hook motioned to her, and Wendy climbed out, taking her place under an angry sky that crackled with lightning. The Sudden Night pitched from side to side as dark clouds obscured the huge moon that hovered overhead, its light hidden from view. The air churned around her, fetid and unsettled, the temperature ranging from warm to freezing within a matter of seconds. The Sudden Night heaved and rolled forward, and Wendy was sent tumbling towards the bowsprit. Desperate not to roll into the murderous sea, she clutched desperately to the rigging. Lacerating drops of rain pounded against her face as she watched the Night raise itself up on a crested wave and slam back down again. She felt the impact in her bones.
“Why the hell did you bring me out here?” she screamed at Hook, angry at everything, angry for London and Booth, for Peter and John, angry about the Shadow and Michael, so far from her reach. “Are you trying to kill me?”
Captain James Hook did not hear her, no, he would not, because he was standing firm at the wheel of the ship, his face etched with pure elation.
“This is it!” he yelled to Wendy. She tightened her hands around the thick rope, almost slicing her palm open on a hidden scabbard that lay underneath.
“What?”
Hook spun the wheel counter-clockwise and then backwards a few inches, before letting it ripple again through his hands. She felt the response of the Sudden Night, moving under his command, the ship skirting along the tip of a wave, each one threatening, each one parting under the great black helm.
“Wendy! Haul yourself up to the crow’s nest! Tell Owl that you want to see the storm.”
“I can see it quite fine from here, thank you!”
Wendy looked back at him, his white shirt soaked and unbuttoned, his gray tipped hair blowing wildly in the wind.
“You’re insane!” she screamed. She could barely keep her feet underneath her as it was.
“Go, or I’ll throw you overboard!” He glanced at her quickly before his attention turned again to the wheel as a shroud of rain engulfed him. “I want you to understand!”
His voice came out of the downpour, an exclamation of ecstasy, “I love two things in this world, Miss Darling, and you’ve already met one of them.” He turned his head to look out over the violently pitching waves. “It’s time you met the other.”
Wendy looked up at him, water streaming into her eyes. Hook turned away from her.
“Don’t you trust me by now, girl? Climb, and be brave!”
Be brave. Booth’s words.
Wendy raised her eyes. The rainwater poured into them, hot like a fever.
“Climb!” He hollered once more as the port side raised up on a swell only to slam back down. A wave of seawater rushed over the side of the boat, soaking Wendy’s legs. She pushed her stringy hair out of her eyes.
“Fine! I’ll climb.” The word was coming out of her throat, and she let it. “Dam
n you!”
She made her way up to the crow’s nest, foot over slippery foot. The Sudden Night bobbed like a black cork below her on the incensed sea. Rain poured over her as she made her way up, her hands wrapped tightly around the thick rope that cut into her dainty, dirty hands. Owl leaned over the edge of the crow’s nest, his eyes covered with a soaked strip of white linen.
“Aye, girl, c’mon! One slip and you’re done for!”
He turned his head to the horizon, to a line of black water, its white caps surging towards the ship.
“This storm’s only got about an hour left in it! Hurry up!”
Wendy clenched her muscles and pulled herself up the mainmast, trying not to look down—which was terrifying—or straight up—which was like drowning. She ignored the nagging thought that she was climbing towards her own death.
Why did Hook want her up here? Lightning flashed across the sky, a great snaking root that illuminated the path ahead of them. Wendy reached the crow’s nest and was unsure of how to get into the bucket, which gave a terrifying shriek as the boat roiled and rocked in the jaws of the sea. Owl reached down with his meaty arms, feeling around for her hand. Wendy took his hand and then, with a muttered prayer, gave him her other hand. The ship pitched and her legs swung out from under her, and for a moment, she was suspended over the void, with only Owl holding her aloft, the rest of her body dangling over the Sudden Night. Then the ship righted itself, and Owl pulled her up and over the sides of the barrel. Wendy instantly wrapped herself around the wooden pole.
“Ah, no you don’t. You only have to climb up once more. To see the storm.”
Wendy looked over at him, the only man on this ship who actually couldn’t see. There was a thick rope in his hands, tethered to an iron clip that had been pounded into the mast. Owl pointed to a single wooden platform—no wider than a large book—that stood right above his head.
“Go on up the platform, girl. I’ll heave you up. No, wait.” Owl turned his ear to the sky, waiting, listening. “Alright, yes. You’re good.”