Chapter Twenty-Two
Vera
Why didn’t the wish work?
Peter continues laughing maliciously. “Our guest has arrived. Hello, old boy, do you remember our mutual friend, James? He’s been justdyingto see you again.”
James sighs heavily. “I suppose it was too much to hope that we could avoid a confrontation with you and that croc. Would have been too boring a story if we just whisked home, right?”
“Exactly!” Peter cries. “I’m gladyou get it, James.”
James rolls his eyes at the shadow. “Please call me Hook or Mr. Pearson. Hearing a kid call me by my given name is weird.”
The croc snarls as it lumbers forward. It’s much larger than I had been expecting and I’d already made it large. I remember always being a tad bit fascinated by crocodiles and sharks and imagining what would happen if they were even bigger than they are now.
I guess today I get to see, all I have to do is imagine green scales in the place of the swirling shadows and I can ease my younger self’s curiosity.
It’s like I’m facing off with a dinosaur. Fortunately for me, I came prepared. I reach into the satchel and grab the small glowing orb that is Naia’s song. I yank it out, holding it up in the palm of my hand.
A siren’s song is a powerful thing.
It can calm the sea. Control the creatures that live under the sea. And charm the minds of man.
Moira got her scar and lost her mother because she did not have a song and could not control the shark attacking her, but with this in my hand, I can hopefully control the crocodile. Moira was long dead by this point. Although technically, James and I bypassed most of the story by leaving Naia and Frederick at the castle and just cutting straight through Neverland. Everyone was supposed towander around, bonding and learning each other’s deep secrets so that they could have emotional resolution before Moira and Hook died.
Moira died because Pan filled Hook’s head with lies and Hook died because Moira wasn’t around to protect him with the siren’s song.
So far James and I are doing a bit better.
Pan holds out his hand and I see a small dark figure fly around it, rising up to make a line. It must be Tink. An object forms out of the shadows before solidifying into a sword. I may not be able to see it on the shadow’s face, but I know he is smirking.
“But I’m nothing if not generous. Here, defend yourself.”
He tosses the sword onto the ground next to James’s foot just as the shadow croc lets out a snarl and a snap and a tick and a tock.
It begins lumbering forward. I press my eyes shut, forcing my will into the song. A slight humming sound begins, ringing past my ears before it turns into a melodic voice singing. The song has no lyrics, but I imagine if there were ones it would go something like,please don’t eat my handsome producer, Croc-y, Croc-y, Crocodile. Please don’t eat my handsome producer, instead let us go home in a while.
Or something like that to the tune of Ode to Joy.
“Vera!” I snap my eyes open to see James take a step toward me, then another. His movement is odd and stilted as if he is fighting some internal force. His eyes lock on mine and I see the plea in them. “Stop using the song, I can’t control myself,” he cries.
I feel my eyes round as James reaches down and grasps the hilt of the sword. My eyes flick down to the orb then to the croc which has stopped completely.
If I stop using the song, there’s no telling if the plot will let this slide. It might still continue to control James. The only thing I know for certain is that I can stop the crocodile now.
My eyes dart around for something to do with the crocodile now that it is in my control, to make it so that it won’t attack James if anything happens to me. My eyes land on Pan just as James whirls on me, his coat fanning around him. The sword is clutched in his hand.
I know what is coming next, but I don’t even have time to brace myself. I turn my full focus to the orb.
I urge the song to change from a song of nonviolence to a song telling the crocodile to attack Pan. I glance up to see the crocodile rear back on its massive crocodilian legs and snap its jaw at Pan.
Peter, for his part, lets out a very boyish scream, clearly not having anticipated my decision.
That’s the thing about adults; we grew up and are now capable of making personal sacrifices. Something that Pan in his childishness will never understand.
I tighten my fingers around the orb just as a stabbing pain pierces my middle. I gasp out, falling forward and barely catching myself against the sand with my free hand.
I turn my head to see James there, he is holding the sword, but the blade is already buried in my middle.
