1
Maggie
Weave. Duck. Parry.
The words echoed in Maggie Hart’s head like a mantra, the repetitiveness hitting her with the strength of a children’s teacher. They were written in the treehouse’s training room, where the mannequins and boxing dummies were stored. Targets surrounded the words, intended for volleying arrows, Maggie quickly came to learn. As the Lost Boys and Neverland’s King sought to train Maggie in the ways of swordmanship, the first lesson she learned was to memorize the three keys to winning.
Weave.
The wind sliced at her bare arms as she soared high above Neverland’s forestry green treetops. A dark shadow danced in the corner of her vision. The figure went by unseen, until the wide glowing sun blocked its silhouette.
Peter Pan, Neverland’s ageless and handsome King, dove down toward her, his wooden sword dark within the light. Maggie weaved in the opposite direction, riding the wind as though they were ocean waves rolling through the sky. Peter’sthrust went through the spot where she'd been, the wood shrieking in the air with his undeniable speed.
“Not bad,” Peter shouted as he twirled about, until he was facing her once more. “But can you get past –”
Before he even finished, Maggie released a musical laugh, and shot by him. His distant shout followed her along the wind until it puffed out of existence. A laugh rippled out from between her lips. Sure, they were trying to train Maggie to be able to hold her own with a sword, but she couldn’t help but have her own fun with it. When would she have another chance to play with swords in the air, flying with the aid of fairy dust sprinkled across her curved frame?
A few weeks had passed since the water supply had returned to the Everything Plant. Maggie tended to store those thoughts in the faraway pockets of her mind. The less she thought about the plant and why she had been brought to Neverland in the first place, the easier it was to get through the fun of the day. The moment she let herself dwell on the truth of reality, Maggie stumbled and staggered, the fairy dust losing its power for a moment or two. It isn’t until her thoughts are focused once more on her flying that her control over the fairy dust comes back, too.
Besides, there were more important things at hand. If Maggie wanted to be prepared to deal with more pirates, she needed to be better at holding her own. She was lucky before, when Captain Hook had her in his grasp, literally in his grasp. Peter came eventually, but there was a chance that he never would’ve shown up at all. For all they knew, Maggie had been tucked away in their treehouse, far away from any battles or harm. The next time she found herself wound up in such a dangerous pickle, there might not be any daring King coming to save her.
Without even realizing it, Maggie coasted lower to the treetops, her speed drifting away. Her thoughts raced, her mindsuddenly drawn back to the Everything Plant and its latest conundrum.
“Gotcha!”
Twitch burst through the treetops, a slurry of leaves exploding out from behind him. His wooden sword was long and crooked, already reaching her own, long before he had the chance to meet her face to face.
Duck.
Maggie shut her eyes and the fairy dust sank out of her. Immediately the sensation of falling perilously to the ground rushed through her, the wind quickly pulling up at her feet as she gained speed. But she only fell for a moment of two, quickly reopening her eyes to let the dust sprinkle back through her limbs once more. As Twitch stumbled forward, his sword slashing and dicing through air, Maggie reappeared behind him, her wooden blade already at the ready.
“Gonna have to be faster than that, Twitch,” Maggie called out, “if you wanna catch me!”
He whipped around, face red and beading with sweat. “Why, you–”
With a giggle, Maggie twirled around, and flew down toward the island. It was early in the afternoon and most of the townspeople were out and about in the marketplace. The rays of light that usually followed fairies around made Cricket Hollow shine as though it was the beating heart of Neverland. Maggie quickly approached the bustling town, slicing and weaving around the acorn-shaped houses and stalls filled to the brim with freshly picked fruits.
Behind her, the Lost Boys and Peter quickly rushed to keep up. The fairies below gawked and exclaimed at what they saw, pointing their fingers to the sky. Above the marketplace, the boys managed to create a loose circle around Maggie, stopping her from flying away. The fairies and natives gathered below,whooping and hollering at the spectacle. Whispers, so jumbled together that they grew to a loud chorus, reached Maggie from where she hovered, her sword at the ready.
“My money’s on Maggie! She’ll show them!”
“But that’s Peter Pan! And the Lost Boys!”
“Sure, sure. But do you know who Maggie Hart is?”
Pride nestled its way into the center of Maggie’s chest. The feeling was often unfamiliar and readily mistaken as having a sour stomach. But the longer Maggie stayed in Neverland, her growing successes quickly outweighed the plethora of failures she might’ve made in the past. Something once so vain as pride came as easily as happiness, as readily as despair. She earned it, and Maggie had no intention of letting it go anytime soon. The townspeople below sought a show, and she was ready to show them – as well as the Lost Boys and their King – all that she had learned so far.
Parry.
The Lost Boys approached first. They each had a different tactic they excelled in: Twitch leapt forward with a sharp assertiveness, one that could not easily be ignored or deflected. Dash often followed suit, his name finally coming into play. He moved with an unmatched speed, swiping and slashing his wooden sword recklessly in front of him. Scamp and Dusty were a package team, coming forward at the same time. Their reserved natures gave them the element of surprise, especially in Dusty’s case. Scamp’s youthful energy gave him a leg up over many people who were far too old to move in the same way. Dusty might’ve been the most quiet and soft-spoken out of all the Lost Boys, but his technique was undeniable. He was a protector, a defender.
Together, Neverland knew them as an unstoppable force.
Maggie grinned.
The onslaught began as she believed it would. Twitch came first, but Maggie was at the ready. When he thrusted forward, his eyes lit up with excitement, she gripped her wooden sword with two hands, putting all her weight into blocking his moves. The wood snapped and creaked as they made contact, but they were enchanted enough to keep them from breaking beneath the pressure. Maggie shoved, using the weight of her parries to shove Twitch back. He backflipped through the air, tumbling legs first into Dash.
Scamp and Dusty came upon her like summer rain. Quiet and unheard of, barely seen in the afternoon sunlight, until they were suddenly there, undeniable, unavoidable. They moved in tandem with each other, forcing Maggie to back up and duck rather than parry. The key, she knew, to getting by their act was the opposite of agility: unmoving. She remained still, as if her feet were planted in the air, blocking and parrying their blades. They ascended on her, trying to force her to back away, and were utterly surprised when she did not do so. With a push against her blade, the pair were flung backwards.
