“What did you wish for?” I yell, my throat aching with the force of my anger.
My voice bounces back to me a hundred-fold, and I swear I hear it echoed in other voices too, quiet whispers of creatures unseen.
“Moira, don’t say that word.”
“Tell me what you wished for!” I scream again, my throat shredding with the sheer force of it, the hate like blades pouring from my mouth.
“Moira.” The tenor of his voice changes. Deepens. Darkens. “You aren’t going to escape me. Not this time.”
“Fuck you!”
“You almost did.” He laughs, no more boyish charm in it. Only a sinister caw of a wily crow. “I was close, though I must admit, I wouldn’t have enjoyed it quite as much now that I know you’ve already been used by Hook.”
“I’ll never let you touch me,” I snarl at the shadows. “Never!”
“You will. You’ll beg me to. All I have to do is catch you, and I will. I can smell you, taste you on the air. I’m on your heels. You can feel my breath on your neck. I’m right here.”
I spin as his voice balloons around me. “Stay away!” I see nothing, only darkness.
“Right here, little darling girl.” He snickers. “And soon I’ll sink my teeth into you, and this time I won’t let go. No more playing nice. No more playing at all. I’m going to use you all up. And when I’m done, I might dump your corpse at Hook’s feet. That would be fun to watch.”
I close my eyes and breathe deeply. Hook’s alive. I shouldn’t be so relieved. Not when he took my mother from me, but I’ve discovered the human heart can beat to more than one tune, even though it harms it to do so.
“Come back now, Moira. You’re just wearing yourself out,” Peter taunts. “You don’t even believe in the island, remember? None of this is real.”
“Fuck you.” I say it silently this time. I won’t help him find me in this maze of stone and inky night.
I hold up the candle and look over my options. Continue straight ahead as the tunnel slopes downward or try the left. The side path is painfully narrow, and may lead to me getting stuck, but I can tell it moves in a more upward direction. If it closes off, I’ll have to retrace my steps and hope that Peter hasn’t made it to this area yet. But it’s a chance I’m willing to take.
Moving sideways, I hold my right hand in front of me, shining the low light on the way ahead. The stone brushes against my back as I move deeper, my right foot feeling for solid ground before I take another step, then another. I have to duck in a few places, my knees hitting the opposite wall with painful little bursts. The rock has no give, and I’m already beat up. That makes for slow going. I maneuver farther, the tunnel opening a little before squeezing in tight again.
Sweat drips into my eyes, and I snake my left arm up to wipe it away. Right when I do, the candlelight jumps, flickers, and finally dies.
“No!” I scream on the inside.
It’s truly dark now. Completely unbreachable black all around.
I force myself to breathe, to stop panicking, to stop imagining Peter standing right behind me. If I get stuck in my own head now, I’ll be trapped here forever. I promised Slightly, and I mean to make good on it. This is not where I end. I won’t allow it.
My feet move, shuffling me along as I drop the candle bits and use both my hands to feel my way through the crevice.
“Moira!” Peter’s voice is still taunting me, demanding I give in.
I won’t. I’d rather die in this infernal tunnel than get caught in his web again. So I push onward, gaining more scrapes and bruises as I climb over stone and duck beneath it, contort my body to fit and stretch toward freedom like a weed toward the sun.
Water. I smell it before I feel it dripping along the sides of the cave.
I gather some with my palm and draw it to my mouth, swallowing little by little as I keep moving. When the cave widens more, I can turn my body and walk forward. I drag in a deep breath, the claustrophobia abating for a moment as I look up.
More water pours from somewhere overhead, and when I lean this way and that, I see an opening where the moon peeks through.
Moving carefully, I pick my way along the rock that slowly turns to clay and then into a dark pool. The sounds of splashing grow louder as I move into the cool water. When my feet no longer touch the bottom, I strike out and swim slowly, hoping that nothing lives in this underground lake, especially nothing with sharp teeth.
The moonlight is steadier now, shining through tree branches and vegetation overhead and piercing the cave in rays of silver. I keep going toward the sounds of a waterfall. When I swim around a large outcrop of rock, I find it. It’s a tiered waterfall set into stone. The top of it must be at least thirty feet overhead. That’s where I have to go.
I kick harder, pushing toward it. Once I reach a small shore, I pull myself out and sit on the sticky clay, my lungs burning as I try to regain my strength.
My name eddies around me. Peter haunts my steps. I don’t know how, but he’s getting closer. He must’ve found another way to this chamber, because there’s no way he could’ve fit down the tunnel I took.
