Straight On Till Morning (Disney Twisted Tales) - Liz Braswell Page 0,14
it than that.
“And what will that get us?” demanded an orange-haired lout with a northern European accent.
“Why, it will get us P—” Hook paused with a not-very-subtle side-eye at Wendy. “It will get us something we’ve always wanted. Well, something I have always wanted. And I am your captain. So it’s what you want, too—or at least it’s in your best interests to want it. And when I have it, we will be done with Never Land and all its silliness forever, and there will be only plundering and loot from here on out. All right?”
There were muttered grumbles of grudging assent.
“For now, I’m putting the shadow in safekeeping, in the trusted hands of Mr. Smee.”
At this the pirates looked even more uncomfortable—and disgusted. Possibly resigned. They threw up their hands and slowly dispersed, growling and unsatisfied and muttering curses.
“So there you are, my dear,” Captain Hook said, bowing to her. “A loathsome lot, to be sure, but you’re safe among them while we’re on our way to Never Land.”
“What time shall we get there, if you please?” Wendy asked politely.
“We don’t deal with time or clocks or watches on the Jolly Roger, Miss Darling. Except for figuring latitude and longitude. Pirates are free from such civilizing constraints and demonic inventions of man. We have none of those infernal contraptions on this ship, I can tell you.”
Wendy narrowed her eyes. What a strange thing to say—and there was a strange look behind his bluster. Fear? Could it possibly have been fear? He was afraid of something. Something he wasn’t telling her.
“All right, well…Approximately how long will it take to get there? Surely pirates aren’t entirely free from the passage of time, what with meals and sleep and the like.”
“Oh, you’re a very clever girl, aren’t you, Miss Darling? Well, these things aren’t precise, but it shouldn’t be more than a day or so.”
“And how are we to get there?”
Captain Hook gave her a knowing smile. “I suppose if you were with Peter Pan he would say something like oh, second star on the left, et cetera, et cetera. And you would fly through the sky, straight to the island of your dreams.
“Alas, my lady, pixie dust and good magic are rather out of a pirate’s reach. We had to go a different route, and it nearly cost poor Major Thomas his life. Possibly his soul. It was a bit unclear. Anyway, he’s a useless lubber and prone to grog. Not much of a loss there.”
Wendy’s eyes widened and her hand went to her mouth in dismay, but Hook was already touching his hat to her and spinning away, chuckling over the shadow he held.
Now alone, she looked around the deck nervously. There were no benches or chaise lounges as on a proper transport vessel. Because of the lateness—or the earliness—of the hour, the pirates mostly went belowdecks to their bunks. None of those remaining seemed particularly happy about the strange motion of the ship, gliding along without oars or sails or any human help at all. They occupied themselves with other pirate-y pursuits: five-finger fillet on an upturned barrel, surreptitious sips from leather flasks, shouting over a game that involved rolling with what looked very much like knucklebones instead of dice.
(And how were those come by? Wendy wondered.)
She fidgeted with her fingers a bit the way she did at parties, and then decided that the dice throwers seemed the least dangerous.
“My, those are certainly unique implements you’re playing with,” she ventured.
The pirates just grunted.
“Of course, I don’t approve of gambling at all, but Father has a lovely pair of dice that he keeps with his jewelry. They’re not…bones. At least, I don’t think so. I believe they’re ivory. Although I suppose that’s basically a sort of bone, isn’t it?”
The pirates frowned and tried to ignore her.
“They have real pips on them, carved and painted. They really are quite lovely. Of course, I am against gambling, and so is Mother. It’s not a proper occupation for anyone, even men. But his dice are quite pretty and nice to hold, and they warm up in your hand so. And how do you know which side yours land on? Without pips?”
The pirates stopped their game entirely and stared up at her in exasperation.
“Well, I’ve never played before,” she said, a little defensively. “I’m not asking you to teach me. I’m just wondering. I should have to say no if you asked me, wouldn’t I? Seeing as gambling and games of chance are immoral.