Wendy tried to hide her sniffing, crying always made her nose run. She hated to cry. She didn’t want Petyr to see her and was thankful for the dark. When they took a hard left before the exit, she realized that there were alcoves and hollow pathways throughout the skull cave that she missed. With Petyr as her guide, the going was much smoother, she stayed close to his back so as not to lose him, but multiple times she collided with him as he stopped abruptly to listen. Each time a hand reached back to hold her steady. Each time left a burning mark on her. She strained her ears to hear, but heard nothing except for the dripping of water and the rushing of the ocean.
Then, she heard voices. They were coming around a bend and the voices rose up over the waves.
“Just tell us where they are hiding Tigerlily, we know you’ve been there.” The voice was low and harsh, and it gave Wendy chills. She didn’t want to imagine the figure who owned that voice.
The response to the question was muffled but it sounded angry.
“You can curse us all you want princess, your witchy ways don’t scare me.”
Finally Wendy could hear the response, it was given in a cool, crisp tone, “You’d do well to fear the spirits of Neverland. I give them respect, and you...well, they don’t look too kindly on those who spit on their sacrifices.”
Laughter followed.
“Drown me if you wish, but know that I will come back, and I will make sure he knows what you have done. You will wish then that you had heeded my words.”
“The Sailor? He rots in his stoney prison.”
Petyr froze and placed his hand on Wendy’s upper arm, pushing her further into the wall. A shadow passed in front of them, the clicking sound of boots on stone.
Then another hand pressed against Wendy’s lips, smothering the shriek.
“Wendy, it’s me.” John’s low voice hovered just above her ear.
“Where are the Lost Boys?” Petyr whispered, not looking behind him, Wendy realized he knew John was coming and glared at the back of his head. A warning would have been nice.
“In position, I found the last pirate. He’s been dealt with. We have to get Tigerlily out soon. The tide is coming in.” John’s voice had a slight hiss, revealing his ever-increasing anxiety.
Petyr nodded, “You will have to swim round then. Take her out that way. I’ll distract them long enough for you to do it.”
Without a response, Wendy felt John slip away. Once freed, she leaned forward towards Petyr, “What should I do? How can I help?”
Turning and wrapping his arms about her was the last thing she expected him to do, but she was suddenly held tight against his chest, forehead lightly touching hers. “I want you to leave. I want to carry you out of here myself. But…” he hesitated, then sighed, the puff of air tickling her lips, “I need you to be a distraction if I can’t get Hook to move away from the Princess.” Wendy nodded quickly, excited for once, to not be a burden, but also apprehensive. “Do you think you can manage?” Petyr asked, his hands beginning to caress her back.
She shivered, “I think so…” her voice shook. Whether from nervousness or the little trails he was making with his fingertips, she couldn’t decide.
“Stay here, out of sight. If I can get them away from Tigerlily, then run as fast as you can to the boats. If I can’t, get them to focus on you, even if it is only for a second. I won’t let them hurt you.” Then he was slipping around the corner and unmistakably into view because there was ominous silence followed by loud exclamations.
The shouting only lasted for a moment before it was quelled by a throaty purr, “So nice of you to drop in Petyr, I was wondering when you would decide to show your face. Been too busy stealing hearts to visit your favorite girl?”
Wendy couldn’t help but peek around the corner. Expecting a man clad in leather and eyepatches, she nearly gasped, pressing her knuckles against her teeth.
A girl. A girl stood, legs apart, red lips pulled in a sneer. A wicked cutlass at the neck of Tigerlily. She was flanked by three men; all large and dangerous.
“Jocasta.” The hand holding his dagger dangled loosely at his side, however, his knuckles were white as they gripped it tightly.
“What, no witty comeback? Going for the strong silent type? We both know that isn’t you. You are more the laugh and slice type.” Jocasta caressed her cheek with her hook, Petyr’s eyes flickered to it and Wendy thought, for a moment, that she saw regret.
“Jocasta, I’m not sure what game you are playing at, but we both know that Tigerlily is the last person you’d want to lose to.”
Jocasta narrowed her eyes, “Lose? You think I’m losing?” She pulled her cutlass away from what little bit of Tigerlily’s neck stilled showed above the water, and pointed it towards him, directly at his chest, “You don’t even know what the game is.”
Wendy watched as Petry leaned against a large rock, his stance oozing casual indifference. She glanced about, trying to figure out a way to distract the group so that John could make his way to the Princess. The tide was continuing to come in, she didn’t have much time left. She was sure the water was cold, even if she didn’t drown, hypothermia might still kill her.
“A new game, Jocasta? We haven’t finished our others, or have you decided that they were too difficult?”
Jocasta scoffed, “Please, those were child’s play.” Then her smile turned mischievous, “And what of you Petyr? What games have you been playing? What new toys have you brought with you to the island?”
Wendy began inching her hand towards a pile of rocks at her feet. The oldest cliche in the book, but she had nothing better planned. Her mind was too focused on the conversation playing out in front of her to develop anything overly ambitious. She was trying to unravel the double entendres and secret suggestions. She could feel the hatred and tension radiating from them, but underneath there was–something else too. Something dark and seductive.
Petyr chuckled, “Jealous, Jocasta? You know you are the only one I enjoy playing with.”
“Flatterer,” She took a few more steps, “But truly, who is she?”
“Who is who? Jocasta?”
One of the men at Jocasta’s back began to fidget, “Captain, the tide.”
“Shut up, Phillipe,” The snarl was primal–fierce.
Wendy knew they couldn’t wait any longer. She looked to the opening of the skull, where the water was pumping in at an ever-increasing pace and swore she saw a dark shadow moving beneath the surface. She gripped the rock at her feet, pulled back her arm and threw.
It was pure luck, a coincidence that could never be repeated. The rock arced overhead and struck the large, bearded man next to Phillipe. He jerked back, swayed for a moment, then collapsed.
Chaos erupted. More pebbles rained down from overhead. The twins leaped down from their crevices and engaged a pirate with a top-knot and two thin razor-sharp swords. They were like a whirling dervish of staves and blades. Basil sent a flurry of arrows around the blond pirate Phillipe who lurched back and ducked for cover. Wendy barely glimpsed John’s head emerge from the water and tug Tigerlily below the waves, disappearing out of sight.
Jocasta never moved. Her eyes arrowed to Wendy’s hiding spot as if drawn by a magnetic force. The man Wendy had stunned suddenly came to with blazing eyes and an aching head. “That little bitch hit me with a rock!” He bellowed. Hauling himself upwards, he tried charging with a wicked-looking mace but was blocked by Petyr and his dagger.
“Silas, bested by tiny rock.” His mocking laughter had the desired effect of enraging the pirate.
The brawny man growled like a savage bear and swung the vicious, spiked mace, “Petyr Pantheon, you will get a taste of my metal!” The clash resounded throughout the cave. Dagger meeting burnished steel.
Through all this, Wendy was held captive by Jocasta’s burning stare. The hook on her hand and blackness in her eyes attested to her own dark past and called out to something in Wendy.
“Not what you expected from a pirate captain is it?” Were her first words. She held her arms out, inviting Wendy to take in the sleek yet utilitarian attire.
“No, not at all.” Surprisingly Wendy felt calm.
“Are you afraid of me?”
“I don’t think so, should I be?”
“Possibly, most definitely, but you are out of my reach for the moment. Who you should really fear is the one who did this.” She raised her arm connected to the hook and tapped it against her lips.
“Someone cut off your hand?” Wendy’s stomach lurched at the thought. The pain she must have felt.
Jocasta laughed merrily, “Not just someone. Petyr Pan.”
Wendy couldn’t stop the slackening of her jaw, her throat felt dry and her limbs tense. “Petyr...Petyr did that.” She shook her head as she said it. The sounds of fighting seemed to grow farther and farther away.
“I think you are too clever not to believe he could do something like this.” Jocasta smirked, as if she already knew the direction of her thoughts, “That isn’t a compliment, he always did like clever girls.”
“What do you mean...girls? Has there been more?” Wendy hated to ask, the question barely squeaked past her lips. But Jocasta seemed like she wanted Wendy to know. Like she wanted to drive the words through her chest, instead of driving her sword.
“I honestly don’t know, he’s been in Neverland for ages. But I was not the first. You, however, are the first since he…” And for once, some of the confident wickedness slipped from Jocasta’s face...
“Since he what–”
...And was replaced with complete and utter rage, “Since he ripped out my heart and swallowed it bloody and whole.” She brandished her sword at Wendy, closing the distance quickly, “So now I am going to take his heart and let him watch as it bleeds out here on the floor.”
Wendy couldn’t move, couldn’t run. The pain and hatred in Jocasta’s eyes, the madness in her words kept her rooted to the spot.
Then a strong vise took hold of her waist and she was lifting upwards and away. Wendy could hear Jocasta’s scream follow them out of Skull Rock and into the evening air.
ns 15.158.61.6da2
