“Hi, Bunk,” Widow says brightly, though she still cuts a glance over at Tiger Lily.
Bunk seems at a loss for words as I follow Tiger Lily to a quieter spot on the wraparound porch.
Once she seems satisfied we’re out of earshot, she turns to me. “Are you safe?” Her tone is no-nonsense, none of the warm chat she was giving to Widow.
That’s a good question. One I don’t know if I can answer. “Hook hasn’t hurt me.”
“Does he intend to?” Her eyes narrow.
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
She sighs and leans against the house. “That doesn’t tell me anything.”
I throw my hands up. “Then ask him.”
“I did. It was one of the conditions of our coming here. He gave his oath that he has no intentions of harming you.”
“Wait. You wouldn’t agree to come here unless he promised not to hurt me? Why?”
She straightens up, putting back on her air of ease. “Because I don’t know what you are, I don’t know what Peter will do if you’re harmed, and I don’t know what Hook intends.”
“I’m from the mainland.” I shrug. “Though Nessie says I have magic—she’s a bit woowoo and scary if I’m being honest—and everyone else thinks that when I told Peter stories that he somehow drained my … my …” I search for the right word.
“Your essence,” she finishes for me.
“Yes, that. I’ve looked in a mirror.” I point at my face. “I know it’s not supposed to look like this, so yeah, that’s probably true. Hook caught me when I was trying to run away from this shadow child thing, and—”
“So you’ve seen them?”
“The creepy kids?”
“Yes. The shadows. We’ve heard whispers of them, but we haven’t seen one. They truly look like children?”
“The ones I saw did. Little boys. Makes me think maybe they’re connected to the way Peter brings Lost Boys to the island.”
Her perfect brow wrinkles. “How do you know about that?”
Shit. Why do I have to talk so much? “Hook told me.” It’s somewhat true, though of course Tinker Bell is the honest answer.
She doesn’t seem convinced, but she continues, “It could have something to do with that, but I don’t know. Peter used to treat me like a confidant, but after the fairy folk began disappearing right along with my own people—” Her jaw clenches, her gaze hardening. “That’s when he changed. He’s different now. Different ever since he went into the heart of the island.”
“What’s the heart of the island?”
“Beneath the tree. Where all things converge. It’s a sacred place. No one should ever venture there lightly. Peter knew that,” she says bitterly. “But he went anyway, and when he came out, he was changed.”
“That’s where he made his w—”
She shoots me a sharp look.
I regroup. “That’s where he made arequestof the island?”
“He won’t say. But I assume so. Yes. Then he changed more and more. Grew dark.” She taps her chest. “In here. It was all coming to a head, but then we heard about you. I thought you might be the key to solving all this, to bringing back the sun and my people, the fairies too. Their numbers have dwindled. The ones who remain hide in the Silver Mountains. From what, we don’t know. They won’t speak to us anymore.”
“What about Tinker Bell?”
She bares her teeth like a reflex, then schools her features. “Tinker Bell is no friend to us. And if you’d like a word of advice, don’t trust a thing she says. She serves only herself.”
“I’ve noticed.”
