The poignant longing in his voice tugged at her heartstrings. She knew it wasn’t real, but it crept into her brain and whispered for action. She put her hands in her pockets to keep from reaching out for him.
James shifted his weight, pulling Peter’s attention. “You stay out of this!” the boy-shaped monster yelled, pointing his knife at James.
As soon as the knife was away from her brother, Wendy threw a handful of the iron filings in Peter’s face.
He reacted by shoving Michael to grab at his eyes with the hand that didn’t hold the knife. James stepped forward again, and Peter brandished his weapon. His eyes were a fiery red, but while the iron was hurting him, it hadn’t been enough to stop him.
“I’m going to kill you”—he gestured to James, then Wendy and Michael—“then you and you!”
Wendy had rushed forward to pull Michael out of range while Peter was blinded. The boy began crying in earnest when he realized his sister now cradled him. “You’re safe, little one. I’ve got you.” She reached for the small box of nails that had been stashed nearby. “Here. Hold this iron. Peter has less power over you when you’re touching iron.”
He clutched the nail obediently. Wendy had forgotten to tuck her pendant back into her dress. She had also forgotten that her pockets were filled with iron until she put her hands in them. She slipped the amulet beneath her collar again as she watched the scene before her.
Peter had moved out of position in the aftermath of the iron shower. James needed to move him back into place.
A flutter of movement caught Wendy’s eye. She looked over, then immediately away when she realized Tam was peeking under the tarp. He was closest to the trapdoor’s trigger. No doubt he was watching to get the timing right.
Peter and James circled each other. Or rather, Peter tried to circle behind James, who kept switching direction to keep him on the correct side of the deck. After much blustering on Peter’s part, and a good bit of useless weapon-waving on both their parts, the bane of their existence stepped in front of the space he needed to occupy.
“Good enough,” James said, leveling his hook at Peter in what looked like a dramatic pointing gesture. Until the base of the hook fell open and, to Wendy’s and Peter’s shock alike, launched a spike into the boy’s chest.
It must have been iron, because Peter gasped and clutched his chest with an anguished wail. When he stumbled back a couple steps, Tam burst from his hiding spot and triggered the mechanism by his crate. The trapdoor responded instantly, swinging open and releasing the net gun in one smooth motion. Peterwent down hard beneath the net, still wailing and tearing at his injury.
As James kicked the bound Peter into the hole in the floor, Wendy heard shouts from the men below. James and Tam raced to slam the door shut, then stepped on it to keep it in place.
The captain patted Tam on the back, and they grinned at each other. Then he turned toward Wendy and asked, “Are you two—Look out!”
Wendy twisted around to see Peter’s shadow creeping toward her. Without pausing to think, she grabbed another handful of iron filings and threw them at the dark smudge.
Shadows living apart from their owners react much more dramatically than Peter did, she learned. It didn't have a voice with which to wail, but the edges of the shadow seemed to curl up with all the nastiness of a freshly salted slug as it shriveled and writhed frantically. Wendy set Michael to the side, grabbed the shadow with both hands, and began furiously wadding it up. She didn’t know if she should be able to do this, but she wasn’t going to let a silly little thing like doubt keep her from disposing of this evil. When the physical gloom was small enough, she pushed it into the nail box at her side. Then she gave the box a hearty shake, just in case.
A weak laugh from James let her know it was over. She walked to his side. “Do you have more nails? I want to seal this shut.”
James answered by kissing her soundly. Wendy nearly dropped the box, but Michael’s voice brought her to her senses.
“Ew. Why are you doing that?”
James laughed for real this time. He was opening his mouth to answer when a crudely made arrow fell to the deck at his feet.
“Leave ’em alone, Ayrat!”
Wendy recognized John’s voice and looked up to the hilltop to see him scuffling with a dark-skinned boy. The other Lost Boys watched and waited. When the fighting pair paused to nurse their injuries, she called out to them. “John, Ayrat, Cass, Edi, Stathis, Behzad!”
Six faces turned her way. “Wendy!” they shouted. The resulting cacophony of cheers and questions scraped at her worn nerves.
“Is there a way for them to come down?” she asked James. “Safely.”
The boys kept yelling, thwarting her attempts to direct them to the side of the hill James indicated. John yelled right along with them, determined to make them see his point through sheer volume.
Wendy shook her head. “This isn’t working.” She looked around the deck. “Leq?”
Her sticky sheerie popped into visibility in front of her face. “Yeah?”
“Would you please direct those boys to these rocks?” She pointed to a convenient staging area that the yawl could reach.
“On it!” Leq flashed into his blueish-white flame form and darted to the top of the hill.
“Could you tell the men to return with the yawl?” James requested. “I’d like to cover this door with the heaviest cargo we can manage, but I need help.”
