“You’re not yet fully recovered,” I say.
“I’m fine,” she says. “I’m not missing this. I failed your son once. I won’t do it again.”
There is warmth in my eyes—gratitude for Charlie—but fear also.
“Charlie, I almost lost you once. I can’t lose you again.”
Maddox grumbles something next to her. Something about “Now where have I heard that before? Oh yes, from my own mouth.”
Again, she repeats the sentiment about failing.
“Those two can’t come,” says Peter, pointedly looking at Charlie and Maddox.
Charlie flares her nostrils. “That’s not really up to you.”
Peter crosses his arms. “No, but who’s to say the Sister isn’t watching your tapestries?”
“Who’s to say she isn’t watching yours?” says Maddox, glaring at Peter.
“Peter is right,” I say, to which Maddox appears less than pleased. “No, listen. The Sister can’t see my and Nolan’s tapestries, and she can’t see us in anyone else’s. Sure, she can see Peter’s, but it wouldn’t necessarily raise the alarm if he were to return to Neverland to contact her.”
“Not if I’m alone,” says Peter. “If I’m dragging along two of Captain Astor’s known associates, however…”
Charlie opens her mouth to protest, but Peter interrupts her. “We can waste time arguing, or we can go get your son back.” He glances between me and Nolan and even nods at Nolan—a silent gesture I don’t miss.
“Let’s go,” says Nolan.
Since Peter isthe only one who can fly, he does so in turn, taking us into Neverland via the warping. He takes me first.
The warping is just as I remember it. A topsy-turvy sensation that feels as if my insides—my stomach—are being turned inside out, like a wine flask being cleaned.
When we land, my boots collide with the crunch of the onyx sand, and I feel the familiar salty spray of the dark ocean stinging at my nostrils. It’s a strange sensation, walking on this onyx beach in my boots rather than my bare feet, but I have no desire for my flesh to touch anything about this realm, this world.
Peter lets go of me, then launches back into the air to go get Nolan.
I wait, gazing in wonder at the sky above. The aurora is out tonight, its green streaks vibrant, painting the sky.
“A beautiful prison,” I whisper to myself.
“Those are the most dangerous prisons of all, aren’t they?” says Peter, as he and Nolan land. “The beautiful ones?”
An eeriness overcomes us at the weight of what we’re about to do.
I glance around—at my husband, at my enemy, at my former prison—and wonder not only if this night will end with my child in my arms, but what I will have to give up to gain him.
As we walk across the beach and toward the reaping tree, toward the forest, Nolan recounts the plan to us for what must be the fiftieth time.
It’s rather simple. We’ll descend into the Den.
“Yes, I remember,” says Peter. “Though I’m not looking forward to my part of the plan.”
A twinge of sympathy rises within me, one I probably shouldn’t feel for the man who abused me, but he’s right. His part of the plan is less than savory.
The Sister’s heart might have always belonged to Nolan, his ancestors, and now his son, but they had been out of her reach for ages. It’s not as if, in that time, she has not desired anyone else’s company.
On occasion, I got dreadful glimpses of her relationship with Peter, specifically the first time I saw his Mating Mark as he bowed naked before her.
“She’s obsessed with me. Not in the way that she’s obsessed with you,” Peter says to Nolan. “But believe me, her desire for you never stopped her from wanting me, even if she did make it clear that I was not her first choice. It didn’t matter in the end, really. The experience on my end was the same either way.”
