As the shape drew nearer, Wendy began to make out features. Golden-brown hair and milk-white skin punched her in the gut. She knew it wasn’t her father, but for the tiniest moment, hewas walking toward her again. The woman wore too many layers to guess at her build, aside from height. She seemed taller than Wendy and maybe James, but shorter than Cooper by half a head. She also wore a ferocious scowl.
“What did you break this time?”
“Farrah! How lovely to see you again,” James greeted her.
“Don’t sweet-talk me.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Who’s this?” Farrah asked with a chin-jab toward Wendy.
“This is Wendy Darling,” James introduced. “Wendy, this is Farrah Wright.”
Farrah looked unimpressed. “She yours?”
Wendy’s heart sped up as she waited for his answer.
James didn’t leave her in suspense. “Yes.”
“I suppose we’ll feed her, too.” She sighed glumly and dropped her arms. “C’mon. Vass is cooking.”
A cheer rose from the crew, who had remained suspiciously quiet the whole time. Wendy frowned at a couple of them, trying to figure it out, but no one paid her any mind. There was food to be had.
An hour later, Wendy agreed with the men: The food was worth cheering for. The rolls were the fluffiest, the fruit was the freshest, and Vass had prepared a giant pot of hot chocolate when he saw their guests. The day would soon be too warm for such a treat, so Wendy relished it while she could.
She also discovered why the crew was so enamored of Farrah. Not only was the woman a whiz with iron, if the metal elementsscattered around her shop and home were anything to go by, but she clearly cared deeply for each member of theJolly Roger. The whole time before and during breakfast, Farrah took turns catching up with every person. She asked questions about ongoing personal projects and praised growth. All while sounding like her morning had been terribly inconvenienced.
Wendy found herself appreciating the dry observations and grouchy requests for more information.
After somehow getting Wendy to talk about her brothers and discovering that Wendy enjoyed reading, Farrah finally turned her attention on James. “Spit it out. I can tell from your face whatever it is is going to be a lot of work for me.” She took a large sip from her mug, then set it down firmly.
“We have an idea for dealing with Pan.”
A light entered the woman’s blue eyes. Wendy would have called it cautious optimism on someone else.
“Oh yeah? Spill it,” she demand-invited.
James explained what they had in mind and asked if she could do it. Farrah fired off a round of questions. Then she stared into her mug for a solid minute without speaking.
When she finally looked up, she said, “Let’s do it.”
Chapter Seven
Which Features a Great Many Things Happening Very Quickly
Working with Farrah—or workingforFarrah—was an interesting ordeal. She knew exactly what she wanted done, and when and how. If you were in her way, she let you know. If you had an idea, she listened. Dumb ideas, or things her experience told her didn’t work, were shot down bluntly. Helpful suggestions earned a nod of approval. Comments that sparked a better idea in her own mind that had nothing to do with the speaker’s original intent seemed to be ignored, until Vass rewarded the speaker with cake at the next meal.
Wendy saw at once that her contribution to the project would be keeping out of the way. She also kept the youngest ones busy when they weren’t needed to play gopher. Farrahwanted Vass, approved Raghu, and accepted Cooper’s help. The others assisted to varying degrees depending on the tight space and Farrah’s patience levels.
Each night at dinner, the day’s work was shared with the crew. Plans for implementing the new trapdoor were discussed ad nauseum. The first night, Maaka advocated using a net gun like the one Sophus had. When Farrah informed him that she didn’t have one, nor did she have the time to develop a working model, he seemed to let it pass. However, he vanished after breakfast the next morning and returned three days later, having procured two from somewhere. Farrah studied them both and pronounced one worthy of including in her build.
Farrah worked tirelessly, setting aside other commissions to focus on their first real plan to stop Peter. The construction was completed in just a week. For Wendy, the time crawled. Every second her brothers were in Peter’s hands was another opportunity for him to decide they had more value dead.
During the celebration the night Farrah declared it ready, James found Wendy lingering at the edge of the lantern light on deck. She watched Maaka and the others repeatedly test the mechanism for the spring-loaded trapdoor and net gun assembly. They worked perfectly every time.
“Are you worried the trap will fail?” James asked.
She shook her head but kept her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “As long as Peter stands in the right spot and someone pushes the button, we’re golden.”
He wrapped her in his arms. “Then what’s bothering you? Did the men eat all the pudding before you got any?” he joked.
“Ha ha,” she recited. The warmth and strength of his arms began seeping into her. “I’m fretting about my brothers. Uselessly, I know,” she added before he could say the same.
