Neptune’s eyes lit up. “What a smart girl you are, Selina,” he said, pulling a shimmering smile out of her. “I have the most perfect idea. You, Maggie Hart, will make me my birthday dinnerandcake. If those also turn out to be the best I’ve ever had, you can consider yourself free. I’ll even throw in the statue, let’s call it a wedding gift.” The King rose from his throne, eyes darkening. “But be warned, cook. Fail to impress me for a secondtime, and you will be punished, regardless of your status as Peter Pan’s bride.”
14
Maggie
The list of ingredients for King Neptune’s dinner and birthday cake was far longer than the lunch. Maggie planned on going all out for the meal, even if it meant working herself to the bone. It had been a while since she let her magic flow into her food, using the innate ability within her to give everything the drop of love that made it so effortlessly delicious. Everything managed to turn out good without it, but Maggie had yet to not have someone rave over her food that had a pinch of magic involved in making it.
Peter loomed over her shoulder, eyeing the list as she flipped the paper onto the other side. A few servants waited at the kitchen’s threshold, ready to collect everything the moment she ceased in writing. The Princesses were kind enough to offer their help, waiting to go off with the servants as well. Maggie was in her right mind to chuck Peter along with them – he was bound to know where most of the things she wanted would be, since she used them in her own kitchen quite often.
Finally, Maggie straightened, the list unfurling down the table. “I think I’ve got it.”
“Alright,” Peter said with a clap. “Let’s hear it, then.”
“For starters, we’ll serve Savory Meat Pies,” Maggie explained, her heart racing as her imagination unfolded in front of her. She could imagine the food arriving at the King’s table in succession, she could almost smell the fresh rosemary and the caramelizing sugars. “And once those are finished, dinner will come next. The center will be a Roast Pork with an Apple Glaze. Buttered Green Beans with Almonds will sit at its right, and a delicately seasoned Rice Pilaf will sit at its left. The meal will be finished with Neptune’s birthday dessert: a Honey Cake topped with Whipped Cream.” Maggie eyed the list. “Oh, and it will all be served with a spiced ale to drink.”
Selina nodded slowly. “I don’t know a thing about food,” she finally said, “so that all sounds rather brilliant to me. But…”
“But what?”
The Princess tilted her head in a pitiful way. “But are yousure,Maggie?”
“You have to be sure,” Coralyn added. “Not that we don’t like having you around, but I don’t think Selina’s bubble will stick around you for a thousand nights.”
Maggie glanced in Peter’s direction but he looked to be in agreement. The menu could sound good all it wanted to, but the truth lay in the pudding, as the saying went. Suddenly Maggie was building a meal that was capable of either saving her life or practically ending it. Whatever she chose would stick with her, for better or for worse. For a moment, she was hit with the memory of being in Cricket Hollow, of feeling the sun on her face, of Peter’s kiss, of the Lost Boys having fun, of Sunny lounging on the windowsill. If she wasn’t sure about the meal she put together, would she ever get the chance to see them again?
She drew in a long breath and shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll ever be sure,” she replied. “But I have to go with my gut, or we’ll be stuck trying to figure out what we should make untilit’s too late.” Maggie looked back down the list, the uncertainty filling herself with doubt. “Truthfully, I can usually decide the perfect meal for someone just by meeting them. Now that I have Neptune in mind, nothing really seems right.”
Peter’s hand gripped her shoulder. “I believe in your gut, Magpie. You should too.”
Maggie let him take the list out of her hands. The longer she stared at it, the easier it would be for her to find something wrong with it. Peter was already tucking it into his pocket, and gave her a small wink while he was at it.
“Come along, Princesses,” Peter exclaimed as he swam across the kitchen, meeting the other servants by the swinging doors. “The only thing we’ll be doing now is getting in the famed Magpie chef’s way.”
And as they trickled out of the kitchen, the optimism leaving along with them, Maggie turned to face her waiting kitchen staff. There were some ingredients leftover from lunch that she planned to put to further use in the King’s special dinner, and there were loads of things to do to prepare for the meal itself.
“Why don’t we get our ovens to the right temps?” Maggie called out. “There are lots of things we can prepare before everyone returns.”
The staff got to work before she even finished speaking. Everything clicked into place without much demand behind it, just like how it was during the lunch preparation. Fitting into a kitchen space was the easiest thing for Maggie to do, and she happened to be an expert at it as well. Something about the food spoke to her, spoke to herinnately.It was as if her soul was that of a giver, someone who only thrived off of seeing others happy, seeing others flourish with a properly filled belly. Perhaps it was only food, but it was also the very thing that had kept Maggie afloat for so many years. When there was no one to comfort her,she turned to something that would always be there, her love for creating.
With the thoughts fresh on her mind, Maggie effortlessly tied an apron around her waist, a wide bow sitting at her lower back. The work went by in a blur. Peter and the Princesses returned in no time, his watchful eye for recognizable ingredients coming quite in handy. Dinner was not expected to be served to the King until the moon rose over the ocean, giving Maggie plenty of time to prepare her painstakingly important meal. There were countless steps, though much of the work was left to the blue flames in the ovens. Maggie directed the kitchen staff to their jobs, giving the Princesses their own things to do before they were required to return to their father’s side. Maggie took to taking the brunt of the work herself. Sure she had countless hands and tailsandlegs to assist her, but there was something far more powerful in her grasp, something that helped her beyond measure.
Her magic unfurled at the height of the bake. The roast, perfectly nestled in a pan, hovered through the air before the oven door swung open with a flick. The center of the meal tucked itself into the oven before it snapped shut, no hands required for one bit of it. Maggie twirled and weaved around the counters, an intricate song that didn’t have a single lyric coursing out between her lips. She was far too involved with her magic to even notice the eyes glued to her, the mermaids and Peter alike watching her with a growing amazement. She hardly had the time to realize that the guards lingering in front of the kitchen doors were curiously peeking in, their eyes wide and bright behind their silver helms.
“What sort of magic is that?” Selina whispered as Maggie soared over her head, the perfectly pleated and stuffed meat pies following at her heel.
Peter’s smile could be heard in his voice, if that was at all possible. “I have no idea,” he murmured. “But isn’t she beautiful?”
Though Maggie could hear them talking, nothing was capable of pulling her away from what was at hand. The time was racing on as the moon lowered high above their heads, far beyond what their eyes could see. There was only the anticipation as they awaited the final word, when King Neptune was ready to receive his first course. Maggie’s song grew low and sorrowful in a way, every last drop of love she could find seeping into the food as it was laid out on serving trays. The magic almost brought a tear to her eye, remembering each instance in which she could gather the love from. Peter’s smile lingered in the back of her mind, and that was more than enough to fuel her to the very end of her tune.
“It is time.”
Maggie raised her head to the doors. A small line of servants were filing into the kitchen. They collected the first course, the steaming meat pies resting like an army of soldiers on the silver trays. The servants left as quietly as they came, leaving the staff and Maggie alike staring at the spot they were once standing in.
No one uttered a word as the servants returned, their trays empty. The next few servants refilled their trays with the next course, collecting a pair of carving knives for the roast pork as well. Everything left the kitchen seamlessly, only to be returned without a crumb left to prove Maggie had ever cooked it in the first place. As they kept collecting mugs of the specially spiced ale, the final spout of servants arrived for slices of Honey Cake. Maggie eyed the servants as they took the dessert, but not one of them said a peep about the meal. Everything was up in the air.
“His Majesty requests that his daughters, the King of Neverland, and Maggie Hart come to the dining hall in celebration of his mighty birthday,” one of the servants said.
Maggie, with her hand firmly grasped in Peter’s, left the safety of the kitchen behind. They followed the servants to the dining hall, where there was an elongated table holding plenty of high society looking merpeople. They eyed them curiously, even more so when the slices of cake were placed in front of them. King Neptune sat at the head of the table, his chair larger and taller than the rest. The servants presented him with the widest piece of cake, making sure to place elaborate sparklers win the whipped frosting.
