Darling - K. Ancrum Page 0,23

face was bright and curious, and unlike his twin, he seemed less suspicious and altogether friendlier. “I’m Second,” he declared. Now Wendy was willing to suspend disbelief for Slightly, Curly, and Nibs, but those couldn’t possibly be their real names. These all had to be nicknames.

The last boy, who had been holding her left leg, stood up and stuck out a hand for her to shake. He was the oldest of the younger boys, maybe fifteen or sixteen at most. “Nice to meet you. I’m Prentis. I … just got here a few months ago,” he said, shaking her hand firmly before stepping into line with the others.

Peter sauntered to Wendy’s side and put an arm over her shoulders. “And this, my friends … is Darling.”

“Where did you find her, Peter?” Second asked excitedly.

“Well,” Peter started, then paused for theatrical effect. “This evening I went out to mend a part of Shadow…”

The younger boys clambered closer to hear the story, sitting at Peter’s feet. Slightly turned off the pot and leaned back against the counter to listen. Nibs glanced at Peter one last time, then wandered into the back of the apartment. Curly went to sit with the younger boys and looked up at Wendy. He smiled openly at her, and she couldn’t help but spare him a quirk of the side of her mouth.

“I was sneaking into the abandoned cottage down by the grotto,” Peter began. “I’d heard that new owners may be coming soon, and I wanted to get some copper wiring to sell. Gotta get Slightly a new pair of glasses, and Nibs—trouble as he is—needs a new retainer. I’d barely gotten my leg over the fence when a monster of a dog came growling and barking.”

Peter crouched down and curled his hands into claws and gnashed his teeth theatrically. Tootles giggled and curled his small hands into claws, too.

“I was hurrying back over the fence,” Peter continued. “But she grabbed ahold of my pants and dragged me down into the yard. Then, when I was defenseless and beaten, she bared her mighty teeth and clenched the sleeve of Shadow in her fearsome jaws, and shook for all she was worth.”

“How did you get free?” Tootles gasped, brown eyes wide and scared.

“Oh, your Peter is too clever to be taken down by a beast of that size,” Peter said dramatically. “She pulled and I pulled, and the sleeve ripped free. I scrambled over the fence and waited on the other side, biding my time until the monster was fast asleep. Then, and only then, could I rescue Shadow’s sleeve and slip away into the night.”

“But your sleeve is attached,” First remarked, furrowing his eyebrows.

Second elbowed him in the side. “Shut up, he’s not done,” he hissed.

“That’s right,” Peter said. “I’m not. This is the story of Darling, and she hasn’t appeared yet, has she?” He put an undercurrent of warning in his voice.

First shook his head and looked sullenly at the linoleum. Curly reached over and squeezed First’s shoulder to console him.

“So. With Tinkerbelle playing watchman and the sun three hours past bedtime, I snuck up the side of the building and slithered through the window.” Peter glanced over his shoulder at Wendy before continuing. “It was dark, and warmer there than I ever remembered it being, and I heard breathing, so I crept even quieter. All of a sudden, the lights turned on, and there sat the prettiest and angriest girl I’ve seen in weeks.” Peter put his hands on his hips and mock glared at Wendy.

Tootles giggled loudly, then covered his mouth with both hands.

“‘What are you doing in my house!’ she shouted—very bravely, I might add—as she was lying there quite weaponlessly, in her pajamas. So I told her, honest and true, that I was there for Shadow’s sleeve and anything else I could get my hands on. Instead of screaming or making a fuss, she jumped up and got Shadow’s sleeve quick as a flash. Then she stitched it right back on, good as new.” Peter bent down to show Wendy’s handiwork.

The boys scrambled closer to see.

“Slightly’s a better sewer,” First said mulishly, after a glance.

“Slightly wasn’t even there,” Second snapped.

Wendy glanced over at Slightly, who shrugged apologetically. “I took a fashion class at After School Matters,” he said. “First doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just shy.”

First scowled harder.

Peter wiggled his eyebrows at Wendy conspiratorially, his golden eyes twinkling.

“Then, for her faithful service,” he continued, “I magicked her up a token. Do