“Luring me to a ship that isn’t even yours by kidnapping children is certainlynotme.”
His answering grin is serpentine, settling beneath my skin like nails, as his shadow appears behind him like a dark cloud. “Making you an offering of power is you, though, is it not? And what are children but raw, untapped power?”
Unease creeps up my spine. I assumed he was controlling the children to increase his own magic as he’d done for centuries, but the earnest way he watches me—like my reaction will make or break him—makes me wonder if all of this trulyisfor me.
I will always want you as mine, Willa.
“I don’t need more power,” I bite out. “Especially not if it requires freezing on a boat at five o’clock in the morning.”
The Aeternalis tucks his hands into his pockets, the gesture reminiscent of the human boy he’d been so long ago. “Some of the best adventures happen at dawn, cousin. So do the best dreams.”
I roll my eyes, my patience for being lectured about dreams having drawn so thin it is nearly nonexistent. Dreams have given me everything I could have ever imagined, but they have stolen just as much.
“Where are they?” I ask, keeping my voice even. “The children.”
Pan hums noncommittally, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. His amusement in every little thing is sharply edged, like it teeters on the edge of a sword. One wrong moment will have it spinning, and everyone in the balance will be sliced by the blade.
“You can’t expect me to spoil all the fun the moment you’ve arrived.”
He turns toward the lattice hatch that leads to the lower decks. His shadow doesn’t seem inclined to follow, its humanoid form pulsating in the space the Aeternalis just vacated.
Icy dread sluices down my spine, as its unnatural presence pulls every horrible memory I’ve ever had to the surface. The weight of its gaze is like claws over my skin, its awareness both nauseating and magnetic. I felt the sentience of Niko’s ribbons before I’d known their power, but this is different. Niko’s death felt alive and somehow, this feels like the opposite.
Like the void before existence.
Pan yanks the shadow toward him with a sly wink and disappears beneath the hatch. “Are you coming, littlest darling?”
Every survival instinct I’ve honed over the years screams to run. Away from his horrible shadow; from the depravity that lurks behind his ethereal face. The Aeternalis could have any kind of danger imaginable waiting for me in the bowels of the ship—traps meant to keep me beneath his thrall forever, just as he’d promised on the beach.
But if it’s where he’s keeping the children, I have no choice. So, I take a deep breath and follow him into the depths of the Indomnitus.
The rhythm of Pan’s gait is odd, vaguely reminiscent of the mannerisms of pixies. He moves so smoothly, he appears to be floating down the steep stairs. As we descend into the darkness of the lower decks, small voices chime through the air in a synchronous cadence:
The Creator is Eternal. We serve him, and him alone.
The children’s chant is high and innocent, its tenor dream-edged and ethereal. A song in a child’s voice would usually bring a lump of emotion to my throat, but as I step down onto the deck, my disquiet morphs into a solid thing.
Pan beckons me forward, his movements sprite. Excited.
The last time I was here, the womb of the ship had only been lit by the soft glow of the will-o-wisps, but there are none today. Instead, sunlight streams in through prisms of glass set in the ceiling, fractal and buttery, and lanterns hang along the support beams. The light spills through the cramped deck and, to my infernal annoyance, illuminate the Aeternalis in an ethereal halo. It is like the light of the island is drawn to his skin, light I’d once claimed as mine.
When the Indomnitus resided in the Crocodile, these decks were empty but for a few old stores. Now it is lined withhammocks stacked three high, each sling of fabric snug around a sleeping child. Guilt winds tightly around my ribs, constricting with each breath as I count the number.
I should have moved all of the children back to the safety of the Grove the moment I saw Pan on the beach. I’d allowed the Aeternalis to manipulate my emotions, to drown me so far in grief, I couldn’t think like a ruler. My mind is clear now as my eyes race from child to child. There is so much untapped magic here—if I do not figure out a way to stop the Everlasting now, he will only grow stronger.
“The ship feels better now, doesn’t it, cousin?” Pan says, his eyes gleaming. Not with affection, but something near to it—something far more dangerous. “It was so cold and empty. It reeked of death and disuse. But now…now we shall fill it with our family. A new family. A new beginning.”
“They already have families, Peter.”
That skeletal mask flashes over his face. Here, and just as quickly gone. “Families that take them for granted. Mothers and fathers that expect them to grow up and sacrifice themselves for the good of others. I only want the best for them. I only want them to have fun.”
I glance at him sidelong, taking in his wistful expression with sudden understanding. The Aeternalisbelieveswhat he says, no matter how mad it sounds—no matter how horrible his actions. He believes his perverse version of love, of family, is truly what’s best.
A belief that only makes him far more dangerous, for a true believer cannot be reasoned with; they cannot be twisted by logic or sympathy. They will cling to their faith when it is covered in blood; when it is earned by sullying innocence and destroying lives.
The shadow in my chest slithers upward, ice spreading from its void.
Pan’s gaze is almost sympathetic as it skates from the children to me. “You know better than anyone how easily so-called family will betray you, Willa. But my family…my family will never let you go.”
