“Boy, didn’t you see?” The kid whipped around, piercing green eyes widening to the size of golf boys. “Gee!You’re Peter Pan, aren’t you? You’re the King of –”
Peter chuckled and politely waved the boy off. “You were running away, remember?”
“Oh!” The fairy boy almost burst off again, his blue wings sparking with magic.
“Not so fast, kid.” Peter hooked an arm around the boy, keeping him at the fountain. “You were just about to tell us what’s got everyone so spooked.”
The fairy boy watched Peter with admiration before his head wobbled away in agreeance. “Y-Yes, sir,” he blurted. “There’s Pirates, sir! Hook’s crew, sir!”
Peter resoundingly released his hold on the starstruck boy, already turning to face the beach. For a minute, Maggie thought she saw excitement pass his face, or a sort of anticipation. The look faded once he reached for her, an urgency returning to his words. She wondered if it was even possible for the King of Neverland to feel exhaustion, but there wasn’t a bead of sweat on his face.
“Go back to the treehouse, Maggie,” Peter was saying, his eyes fixated on her. “Don’t just walk, run. Get the Lost Boys and tell them that Hook’s crew is here.” He grabbed her shoulder, shaking her gently. “Do you hear me, Maggie?”
The fear was beginning to grab her. Neverland, she once believed, was not a place to be afraid of. Dreams came true on the island of perpetual youth. Fantastical creatures lived in allthe nooks and crannies, and magic loomed within everything there was to see. What could be frightening about that?
But the thought soundly reminded her of a few days prior, when she lingered too far in the deep waters and neared the pirate ships unknowingly. Not that she ever expected pirates to be naturally friendly people, but perhaps she imagined there wouldn’t have been any cannonballs shooting at her. The memory jolted her, filling Maggie’s head with the idea of an onslaught of cannonballs being launched on Cricket Hollow’s shore. She shuddered and reached, snatching onto Peter’s arm before he had the chance to shoot off into the face of danger.
Maggie looked up at him. He was halfway in the air already, a few feet over her head, his feet hovering far above the ground. Her fingers tightened over him, just for a moment. When she opened her mouth to speak, not a thing made it out, only a short breath, one that seemed to speak more words than what she’d ever really say.
Peter lowered himself slightly, still hovering. One hand cupped her cheek, the warmth so comforting that she couldn’t stop herself from leaning into it. “Don’t you worry about me, Magpie,” he murmured. His thumb caressed her once, and only once, before he was beginning to slip away. “I’m Peter Pan, after all!”
And like a shooting star, the King of Neverland burst into the sky, far above Maggie’s head. She stared after his retreating figure for a moment, before the rushing footsteps and bellowing yells came back to her. Within a second, Maggie ran within the crowd, slipping alongside fairies she recognized from the restaurant, before slipping off onto a different road. A dirt path from town center led directly to the treehouse, rows of small lights to lead the way. Maggie ran the entire way back, the sounds of fighting still echoing in her ears.
What if something had already happened to Peter?
Was Maggie even fast enough?
How could the King of Neverland trust someone like her?
Maggie was breathless and on the brink of tears when she arrived at the treehouse. The Lost Boys already lingered at the front entrance, their demeanors entirely different from Maggie’s. They tossed a ball around, with only Dusty sitting on a nearby tree stump, a fraying book in hand.
Dusty was the first to notice her appearance. “Maggie,” he called out, an anxious twinge in his voice. He pushed himself to his feet, dropping the book to the ground. “Itoldyou guys I heard something from Cricket Hollow.” Dusty rushed forward, gently grabbing onto Maggie’s arm and coaxing her forward. The clipped edge to his voice was entirely unexpected, catching the rest of the Lost Boys off guard.
Maggie let him steer her forward. “It’s Peter,” she quickly said. “Something’s happening on the beach. He told me to tell the Lost Boys that it’s Hook’s crew!”
Dusty lifted his head and looked around at the rest of the guys. One by one, their faces were lighting up in the same way Maggie had seen Peter’s. There was a rise of excitement, a nervous anticipation, a rush of adrenaline that seemed to light the treehouse on fire. None of them waited for another word as they rushed inside to gather their weapons.
Long swords that were curved toward the edges were removed from their mounts on the walls. The Lost Boys equipped themselves with leather belts, sheathing the sharpened blades at their hips. Then, the Lost Boys were leaving the treehouse’s safety behind.
Maggie followed at their heels, watching helplessly as they collected their gear, her hands pressed to heart as they flew away. It was effortless for them, she knew. Perhaps they do it all the time, rushing into danger and returning unscathed. And yet, there Maggie was, remaining behind as a great adventure tookplace on the horizon. Was it not her who craved it, who sought it out in Peter, who flew over the island in search of it? Was it not her who would have to give it up sometime soon?
Determination washed over her like a tidal wave. Maggie snatched the last sword from the wall. It was smaller than the rest, and didn’t seem as sharpened as the others were, but she hardly minded it. After strapping the sword to her side, in the same fashion as she saw the others, Maggie rushed out of the tree house.
All of Neverland raced in the opposite direction of her.
Maggie did her best not to shoulder the frightened villagers, keeping her blade close to her side safely. They eyed her with surprise, with amazement, with pride. She kept her chin up as she moved, ignoring the aching in her legs, in her feet, in every muscle within her entire body. The pain dulled the more she moved, and that was all she could ask for. Peter and the Lost Boys could need her, they could need simple old Maggie Hart.
“H-Hey!” One fairy she passed turned around, tapping her shoulder. “Aren’t you Maggie? You run that restaurant, don’t you?”
Maggie nodded hurriedly. “I don’t mean to be rude, but –”
“You look like you could use some fairy dust!” The girl reached for her satchel and removed a leather pouch. Looking back up again, the container opened, she held it forward. “Right?”
“Honestly,” Maggie breathed, relief falling over her, “you’re a lifesaver.”
The fairy beamed before sprinkling a handful of dust over the top of Maggie’s head. The magic settled into her skin and clothes before filling her with a rush of energy. Within the same second, Maggie was rising into the air, once again trying to get used to the feeling of flying. It was like learning how to walk, overand over again – though it was a struggle Maggie never minded experiencing.
Maggie looked behind her as she was lifted high over the town. “Thank you!”
