Maggie bit back an unexpected laugh. “How convenient.”
“I’m sure the statue will stick out like a sore thumb,” he continued, effortlessly ignoring her quiet comment. “It is an exact replica of my father, Captain Hook Senior.”
This time, Maggie couldn’t stop herself from chortling like a squealing pig.
Hook scowled at her. “What’s so funny, pet?”
“Oh, n-nothing,” she mumbled. This time, it was Peter pinching at her arm rather than the other way around. “Y-You were saying?”
With an unmovable glower, Hook crossed his arms and continued to describe the statue. “The statue might look a bit like myself,” he grumbled. “But with a black eyepatch over the left eye, and a brilliantly red parrot upon his right shoulder. Like I said, it's not hard to spot.”
“Would you happen to know where you might’ve lost it? I know you mentioned the storm.”
Hook frowned. “Do you really need that information, my lady?”
She rolled her eyes.How easily he switches nicknames once he realizes there’s something he doesn’t want to say.Maggie put her hands on her hips. “Would I have asked if I didn’t need it,pet?”
Hook couldn’t stop himself from smirking. “Point taken,” he replied. As he turned his attention to Peter, he lowered his voice to a begrudging whisper, not at all pleased that he had to even fraternize with his life long rival. “I wonder. Does the King of Nothing know where to find the mermaid city?”
Peter’s brow shot up. “Of course I do.”
“Well we were lingering in some… unsavory waters that didn’t quite… want us around when we succumbed to the storm’s efforts,” Hook whispered. “If you catch my meaning.”
“Oh,” Peter snarled, the anger rising as fast as the color that swarmed to his cheeks. “I’m sure I understand,Hook.”
Maggie felt confused. “C-Can someone elaborate?”
From behind her, Twitch stepped forward, looking just as annoyed as his King. “He means to say that Hook and his crew were attacking mermaids in their city when the storm hit.”
Scamp leaned forward next. “So their good luck charm is most likely with –”
“The mermaids,” Dusty finished.
“Thank you, peanut gallery,” Peter snapped over his shoulder. When he looked back to Hook, there was nothing but disdain there. In just another moment, Maggie was sure that an unavoidable brawl was about to break out between them.
But, much to her surprise, Peter stepped backwards. “Let’s get out of here,” he glumly commanded. “We’ve got something tofind, it seems.”
With Hook’s crawling, snakey smirk still lingering on his face, Maggie followed her company off of theJolly Roger’swooden deck and back into the bright blue sky above. When Crocodile Waters was only a distant memory, Peter came to a stop, his face as clouded as the distant storm that lingered on the horizon.
Maggie beamed at him. “Why so down, Peter? We’ve got the deal we needed!”
“Unfortunately for us, Magpie, this might be a lot harder than we originally thought.”
Though she wanted to hear more about why it needed to be hard at all, Maggie only needed to look over all of their faces to know everything she ever needed. And there was a single word on her mind as the silence settled into a sense of shadowy foreboding.
Shoot.
7
Maggie
Celebrations were a common occurrence in Neverland. While Maggie had grown up being used to only having a party when something good had happened, the island threw the idea on its head. Parties were held whenever they pleased. Music carried through the treehouse halls almost on a daily basis. Friends and family alike gathered to see each other, even if they saw each other the day before, too. Simply being there, being alive, being well, beingcontentwas more than enough for a celebration in Neverland.
Confetti shot through the air over Maggie’s head as she twirled to the music. A live band, made up of a handful of majorly talented fairies and their magical instruments, carried on at the threshold of the treehouse. They welcomed anyone and everyone into the warm glow of their wooden home, whether they were big or small, whether they were known or entirely new. While Maggie was still getting used to how kind the majority of Neverland was, moments like these were easy to embrace like the long awaited hug of an old forgotten friend.
“Food is served!”
The Lost Boys exited the swinging doors to their large kitchen, each of them carrying a wide silver platter of finger food. They brought the trays to the long tables laid out on one side of the room, fighting off the eager fairies who were caught on the tantalizing smell that was coming off the platters. Maggie watched them surge to the food from her spot at the center of the dance floor. Her stomach might’ve grumbled but she hardly noticed it. There was only the music, there was only the beat in her heart, there was only the happiness that was exploding like a burst of confetti in her very soul.
