“I think we have enough,” he said to the woman.
She gave him a baleful look. “James Hook, are you trying to control what your pregnant wife does or does not do?”
He immediately shook his head so his long, black hair and his golden earring whipped from side to side. “I would never.”
She smiled. “Good. Then let’s go to the next stall. There are some blankets I liked.”
“Excuse me,” I said, bright-eyed and eager-looking. “My mam always told me I should offer to help pregnant ladies”—I froze and let my voice drop to an agitated whisper—“Oh no, she also said not to assume.” I raised my voice and said in a rush, “Not that you look pregnant. In fact, you look so… so skinny andtrim, but if youwerepregnant, I could help you so you don’t have to carry anything. Not that you’re incapable, of course.” I shuffled my feet and balled the hem of my tunic into my fist. “My mam also says I talk too much. I’m Gil, by the way.”
The woman gave a radiant smile and held out her hand for me to shake. “Pleased to meet you, Gil. I’m Tinkerbell, and you are correct—I’m very pregnant. My feet are swelling so much I’ll probably need to fly back to the ship instead of walk.”
“Don’t overexert yourself,” James said quickly, then he appraised me. “We’re doing fine on our own, but thank you for the offer.” His tone was dismissive and brusque, and his wife immediately poked her finger into his chest.
“You let that boy help. His mother is trying to teach him to be a gentleman.”
A doting smile appeared on the pirate’s face. “I think you just enjoy being waited on.”
“A happy side effect of his learning manners.” She fluttered her wings so a flurry of golden dust swirled off. I watched it, mesmerized. I ought to feign disinterest, but the others around me were all doing the same thing, staring transfixed at the glittering sight, and Tinkerbell didn’t seem to mind the attention.
“Here,” she said, handing me a bag. “And James, will you pick out some blankets?”
The pirate walked ahead to a booth where a ruggedly handsome man with medium-long dark hair had a few baby blankets tucked in among his knitted scarves and socks. He was also watching Tinkerbell closely, a fact which James Hook seemed acutely aware of, positioning himself between the seller and his wife so she was blocked from the man’s view.
“Can I get you anything?” I asked Tinkerbell brightly. “Water? A chair to sit?”
“Just holding things is plenty helpful,” she told me, lifting up baby clothes to examine each outfit.
While she was occupied and while her husband was bent over the blankets, I pulled out the silky fabric in my pocket and rubbed it vigorously on the woolen hats in the bag so the silk became staticky.
I angled the silk between her wings and the bag, pretending to steady the parcels. As the pixie dust floated through the air, the static-charged fabric quietly drew the shimmering particles toward it, catching them before the breeze could carry them away.
There wasn’t much time before the husband started pushing his way back through the crowd toward his wife with a few pink blankets draped over his arm, along with one blue one. Before he got back, I carefully folded the silk to trap the pixie dust inside and stowed it in my pocket. It wasn’t much.
“I know you think it’s a girl,” James told Tinkerbell. “But I got a blue one just in case it’s a boy. Who knows? Maybe it will be twins and we’ll have one of each.”
“Don’t you dare wish that upon me,” she scolded him with a smile. “One baby at a time is plenty. And we don’t know if they will be more pixie or more human. That will change how they grow.”
“I’m hoping for pixie,” he told her. I could almost see the love shining from his eyes.
She wrapped a coil of hair around her finger then released it. “I hope so, too. Pixies are much better than stinky humans.”
“How flattering,” the pirate said with a grin, using his hook to lift her chin so he could kiss her.
As we walked to the next booth, I carefully pulled out another of the silk pieces of fabric I’d bought from the tailor that morning and repeated the process of rubbing the silk on the woolen hats and angled it behind the pixie’s wings.
“What are you doing?” James barked.
Before I could hide the new bit of fabric, he’d snatched it out of my hands and stared at the bits of pixie dust clinging there. His face darkened.
“Explain, boy,” he spat, shoving the fabric into my face. Tinkerbell turned, lips parting and eyes widening, as she saw what her husband was holding.
“I was using my handkerchief to try and catch some of that glitter stuff,” I said, hanging my head in feigned shame. “It looked so interesting and I was curious. I’m sorry.”
“Do you realize—” James began, but his wife laid a restraining hand on his chest.
“Not everyone is like Peter Pan,” she said softly.
My ears perked up. No wonder Peter knew how they’d react. He must’ve tried something like this on them before.
