“All this because you love Peter?” I gape at her. “Because of him.”
Her eyes flash. “Peter is mine.”
“You keep saying that, but I don’t understand it. Why would you want him? You know what he’s done to me, to the Lost Boys. Those shadow children—he created them when he drained the Lost Boys, isn’t that true? He’s damned their souls to wander Neverland forever. He’s amonster. Why would you ever—”
“You think I don’t understand what he is?” she hisses and comes closer. “You think I forgot about this?” She runs her hand down the scar on her cheek.
I shake my head. “But he said Hook gave that—”
“Peter!” she yells, the discordant bell of her voice hurting my ears. “Peter did this. Peter made me hunt down my own kind for him, he made me watch as he drained them, he made me—” Her voice breaks and she floats up a short distance and takes a deep breath.
That’s when it clicks, when I realize how wrong I’ve been. “When you say Peter is yours,” I say quietly. “You mean he’s yours tokill.”
“Yes!” She shoots back down to the ground, her feet thumping against the turf and shaking the trees around us. “Ihatehim. I will free myself of him, and then I will kill him. Do you understand? You will not take that from me.” She bares her fangs. “I will sever our tie and then sever his head. It will not make up for what I’ve done. My people will never forgive me, and I don’t want them to. I only want the chance to end his reign, to destroy him and allow the island to live again.”
The menace in her, the pain—all of it is one. She’s a thrall to Peter just like the Lost Boys. All along, she’s been just another one of his victims.
“When you gave me that potion earlier, you made it so that it would wear off quickly, didn’t you? So I could escape?”
“It took you long enough.” She schools her features, putting her mask of disdain back into place. “I can’t kill you. The island still speaks to me sometimes, but only faintly now. Only in the quiet when I think of all the fairies who took their last breath in my presence. It warned me not to kill you, so I won’t, even if you are Peter’s boon. But I can’t have you here either. If he drains you, we are all finished. The island will die, and Peter will live on forever. You must go. Now.” She flutters down and yanks me to my feet with a surprisingly strong grip.
“Moira? I’m coming, my darling.” Peter’s voice rises from the waterfall, and my body goes rigid.
“Go!” Tinker Bell hisses, then flashes back into the golden orb and flies away through the gloom.
The fairy dust in my palm promises a quick escape. All I have to do is use it. With dirty, trembling fingers, I reach for the stopper. Popping it open, I catch a small whirl of golden dust floating up from it.
I stare. Then I realize I have no idea how to actually use fairy dust. I never saw Peter use it. What do I do? Snort it? Surely not. Dump it on my head? Drink it? I don’t think that’s a thing, not when the contents look dry and airy.
Then again, if I use the fairy dust—no matter how—I’ll fly away from this island. I’ll leave Peter behind. I clench my eyes shut. That’s when I see Coy. Tootles, too. And now Slightly. They’re all staring back at me. If I leave now, they’ll always be there. They’ll be my own version of my mother’s cinderblock wall. Haunting me. I can’t let Peter hurt anyone else. Not if I can stop him.
I pocket the fairy dust and take off through the trees, hurrying as best I can even though my energy is gone and my feet burn with each agonizing step.
Animals growl and wings flap overhead, but I can’t focus on them. I can only focus on getting away from Peter. However fierce these beasts might be, Peter is far more vicious. Cunning. Heartless. At least the monsters in the trees would make it quick. Not Peter. He’d make me suffer in ways I can’t contemplate, not when I’m running for my life.
I stumble out onto a hilltop that slopes downward at a sharp angle. The ground is dark with vines and bits of ghostly pale stone. It’s going to hurt. Everything on this island does. But I can’t stop now. I ease my way down the hill, but quickly realize being careful is eating too much of my time. Instead, I stand up and move quickly, tearing my skin anew on the rough ground as I skitter down the slope, sometimes rolling, sometimes skidding. Once I’m at the bottom, a familiar scent makes it to my nose—the bog.
There’s no way I can make it through there even though Hook taught me its secret. Instead, I turn what I think is more inland and crash through thickets and patches of moss. I catch the glint of a small creek and follow its path, keeping to its bank where most of the vegetation is only knee-high. Something screams in the trees behind me, sending a shiver down my spine. But I don’t turn to look. I keep barreling ahead.
The scream comes again, closer this time, and I push myself as hard as I can, sprinting and stumbling, groaning from the constant pain. I splash into the cool water and cut my foot on something deeply enough to make me pause. But when I turn around and see a set of yellow eyes not far behind, I run. I hurtle forward even though the pain slows me down.
A hiss meets my ears, and I know the sound all too well. Falling water.
The shadowy monster at my back howls, and my hair stands on end as I fall forward into the water. It’s deeper here, and I swim hard, my body moving more easily through the water though I can hear the creature splashing into the pool behind me.
The stream opens wider, the waterfall sound growing louder.
I decide then and there to keep swimming, no matter what. If I stop, I’m dead.
More howls answer, the trees alive with those yellow eyes creeping closer and closer. I’m surrounded, and I feel the scrape of claws against my calf.
I scream and kick harder, landing a blow onto something hairy and cold. The kick gives me a burst of momentum, and before I even realize it, I’m tumbling over the edge of the waterfall. Straight down.
I don’t know how long I fall, but the impact of the water below is like a crushing grip, squeezing my ribs and almost knocking me out. I struggle, my arms working feebly as I pull myself toward what I think is the surface.
I make it and gulp in more air as I drag myself along the rocks at the edge of the pool and then into the black sand. Once there, I roll over and lie on my back, my gaze on the sliver moon overhead.
Movement catches my eye, and I see the beast at the top of the waterfall. It’s huge. A wolf with its teeth bared. But no ordinary wolf at all, because it stands on its hind legs and howls sharply before plunging into the pool beside me.
