The canopies above had been cut away, the clouds parted, sun streaming down onto grassy beds. Huge trees surrounded the massive clearing with ropes dangling from them. My gaze trailed upward to the branches, planks connecting the trees like some sort of system for travel. Little huts made of sticks filled the area, mixed with bigger canvas tents. A pathway wound through the huts and tents, and I could see through it to the center of the area, where a fire roared. And everywhere I looked, there were boys. Shirtless and running, covered in dirt, playing tag, fighting with wooden swords, walking across the planks, climbing the trees. Other boys danced around the fire. None ofthem looked older than twelve, at the most. It was like they’d created their own little city within the shadow court.
“What is this place?” I breathed, staring at it all with wonder.
“Welcome to Neverland,” Lochlan said.
“Neverland?”I echoed. “What does that mean?”
He shrugged. “The boys named it.”
“Our boys?”
Lochlan shook his head, the sun highlighting the gold in his auburn curls. “The older boys, the ones who have been here the longest. They found this place, made it their home.”
“I can see that,” I said as we walked along the dirt path that was carved through the bright green grass. Tents and huts stood on either side of us, and I peered inside to see bedrolls, journals, pens. “Where do they get all these supplies?” I asked Lochlan.
He nodded his head back toward Bastian. “Ask the pirate lord.”
“What do you mean?” I said.
“You know, your story made a lot of sense. The boys kept telling us that the pirate wasn’t a bad guy, that he rescued them from terrible lives and brought them here to this paradise. They said every time a new boy arrives, he comes bearing supplies, courtesy of the pirate.” Lochlan scratched his head. “We just kind of figured he’d manipulated them somehow, lied to them.”
Bastian hadn’t told me that part. My heart squeezed. In an impossible situation, he’d done what he could. It wasn’t enough. It couldn’t be enough, but it was good and pure. It was the kindof man he’d always told me he wanted to be. Except he already was that man. That’s why I’d fallen in love with him.
I looked back at the pirate, who walked with his sisters, all of them gazing around in wonder as well.
“Princess Gabrielle.” A little body slammed into my legs, arms winding around them.
I looked down to see a thick mop of blond hair. “Benji!” The florist’s son. I knelt down and hugged him tight.
“Are you going to live with us now?” Benji asked when I released him from my hold.
“No, Benji.” I gently grasped his shoulders. “I’m here to take you home.”
His bottom lip wobbled. “But I don’t want to go home. I like it here!”
With that, he ran away and toward a group of boys who were wrestling on the ground, laughing and squealing.
I stared at them in confusion, then glanced at Lochlan. Bastian had tried to warn me about this, but I hadn’t believed him. I hadn’t believed our boys would like it here. Prefer it over their own home.
My body tensed. “They don’t want to leave, do they?”
“Why would they?” Lochlan gestured around. “Look at this place. They have free rein. They have friends, they get to stay young forever.” He shrugged. “Sounds kind of nice.”
I shoved him. “We are supposed to be convincing them to leave, not stay here.” I looked around. “How many boys are there?”
He looked around. “If I had to guess, about five hundred or so?”
Little boys rushed past us with their wooden sword. “Hi, Princess!” a few of them said like it was just every day their crowned princess waltzed into the shadow court.
We kept walking toward the central area with the big fire. “But that doesn’t make sense. Bastian said he’s been doing this for sixty years. There should be way more.”
Lochlan shoved his hands into his pockets. “Some boys do want to leave. Some boys get their shadows and manage to escape. Other boys get sick. Other boys try to leave and aren’t successful. Many have...”
He didn’t have to finish that last part. I understood.
“Right,” I said.
“Not all the boys get along. Some are bullied, some don’t feel at home. Mal and I have been working to do conflict management, teach them better coping skills. They don’t entirely trust us. Many of them have become wary of adults.”
