in the dim light. The shadow skittered across the water, still pointing. Peter’s was close behind.
“Peter!” Wendy shouted.
Whether he was less injured or his pixie ears healed faster, Peter Pan heard her immediately. He looked to where she pointed and flew after the shadows.
The four skimmed together over the surface of the sea.
And there she was: a glittering lump of golden hair and wings, floating lackluster on the foam.
Peter scooped up the tiny fairy and landed on the closest pile of rocks. He gently lowered her down and cleared the water and silt off her face.
But Tinker Bell wasn’t breathing. And she wasn’t glowing.
“Don’t die, Tinker Bell!” Peter begged. “Don’t go out! Tink! You mean more to me than anything!”
“Come on, Tink,” Wendy begged. “You can make it. I know you can. I believe in you. I believe in you and fairies and Never Land. I know you wouldn’t leave me or Peter Pan or this world. Please, Tinker Bell. I believe in you.”
Silence.
And then…the faintest of jingles.
No, Wendy.
I believe in you.
The pirates sailed away to resume wholesome—well, normal—pirate activities. Zane promised to find a nice tropical port where they would deposit Hook, along with enough gold for a comfortable house and a caretaker. Which was, perhaps, more than the violent, insane captain deserved—but then again, the bomb hadn’t really worked all that well after all, and it did nicely set him up for recovering and returning for revenge when he was needed again.
Captain Zane saluted Peter Pan and declared their enmity at an end, but said that he and the crew would cheerfully resume aggressions any time Peter wanted to interfere with their operations. The boy politely offered the same.
The pirate then shook Wendy’s hand. “It was a pleasure knowing you, Miss Darling. You…brought change. And as you said, change comes to all things. Even Never Land. It was high time.”
He turned to Skipper.
“Should you be looking for…other employment, my ship is an open and welcoming place to anyone who wants to loot and plunder, no matter what they look like, who they snog, or how they dress. As long as you’re into murder and burnin’, these days we keep an open mind on the Jolly Roger.”
Skipper cracked one of her small sideways smiles.
“Thanks, Captain. Maybe someday I’ll take you up on it.”
And so the pirates sailed away, the Jolly Roger growing smaller and smaller until it disappeared into the horizon.
On the white sands of the tropical beach now remained only the Lost Boys (and Luna), Peter Pan, Wendy, Tinker Bell, and everyone’s shadows.
It was how Wendy had once imagined a perfect end of an adventurous day…and yet entirely different. Peter Pan was covered in ugly wounds. Tink sat slumped on his shoulder, not quite recovered enough to fly. The Lost Boys looked less lost and more real under this Never Land sun, pores and hair and dirt and scratches and eyes and smiles and all.
“Now then, what’s this about you being a girl, Skipper?” Peter Pan demanded.
Skipper shrugged.
“She is what she is,” said Slightly.
“You wouldn’t have taken me if I wasn’t a boy,” she pointed out.
“But it’s the Lost Boys,” Peter said, exasperated.
“Maybe it shouldn’t be,” Slightly said. “Maybe it shouldn’t be Boys. Or Girls. Maybe it should be Lost People.”
“Lost People … ?” Peter repeated, a little distastefully.
“Maybe it shouldn’t be Lost.” Cubby spoke up unexpectedly. “You found us, Peter. We’re found.”
“Found People,” Slightly said, nodding, “I like that.”
“I like it, too,” Skipper agreed.
Slightly and Peter stared at each other for a long, silent moment.
Finally, Peter rolled his eyes.
“Lost Boys, Found People, Tiny Bunnies—I don’t care what you call yourselves. I just don’t ever want to be fighting with you again. I missed you guys. I don’t know if it was arguing with you or losing my shadow that made me more sick. And I know it was at least half my fault.
“You’ve, ah, you’ve grown into quite the position of leader—under my wise tutelage,” Peter added, putting his arm around Slightly. “I definitely think it’s high time we gave you more responsibility over this little ragtag group of heroes.”
Now it was Slightly’s turn to roll his eyes, but he did it with a smile.
“Bring it in, Peter,” he ordered.
And the two boys hugged and made up.
Tinker Bell disentangled herself from Peter and slipped down his arm. Wendy put out hers and Tink landed on it as gracefully as a ballerina.
What will you do now?
“I think…I’ve been thinking about this a lot, Tinker Bell. And I think