Land. All I ever had was his shadow.”
Tinker Bell blinked. It was obviously an entirely new idea for her.
“It was a very naughty thing you did to Peter out of jealousy, Tinker Bell. Preventing him from getting his own shadow…And what I did was naughty, too, trading that shadow to his enemy to come here. Far more naughty, really. Especially since it seems to have resulted in putting all of Never Land in danger. We both have a lot to answer for. Apologies and reparations to make. Together.”
The fairy looked outraged at this suggestion of any similarity between them. But then she recovered herself, crossing her arms again. Go on, she seemed to say.
“And look, here we are, talking about Peter while he isn’t even here at all! In person, or in shadow form!” Wendy said with a laugh. “Is he really the king of Never Land, after all? Invading our conversations and making everything about himself even when he’s not present? Hook can’t stop talking about him, the Lost Boys are depressed about him, you are constantly jealous around him, and I—well, I sold him out when I couldn’t have him. It’s ridiculous, really, the effect he has on all our lives.
“Tinker Bell!”
The fairy jumped at the sudden, direct address: Wendy was looking at her sternly, full of purpose, shoulders back and jaw firm.
“You and I must resolve not to discuss him any longer, at least until everything else is settled and we have properly saved Never Land. Surely the two of us have other things we could talk about that don’t involve a boy. Other things that warrant our attention. Pirates, flying, the job of getting this shadow back, beating Captain Hook. The adventures we have. Our lives. The life of a fairy. The life of a plain human girl. That should be more than enough for many hours of solid conversation. So enough talk about him for now. Are we agreed?”
The fairy looked at her as if it were a weird thing to ask.
And Wendy supposed it was a bit odd. Wasn’t Peter the very reason they were thrown together in the first place?
But then, as the thought really wound its way through her mind, the fairy relaxed. She shook her head from side to side, as if sloshing the idea around and physically measuring it.
Finally, she nodded. She put out her tiny hand.
Wendy grinned, thrilled to have made some headway with the fairy at last.
She very carefully took the tiny hand between her own index finger and thumb and gave it a gentle but solid shake.
“Excellent. This should make our task that much easier, as well as our working together.”
Tinker Bell narrowed her eyes at that—maybe the idea of actively working together with the human girl, or at least expressing it out loud, was still a bit much. But she didn’t jingle or otherwise comment. Whatever their feelings toward each other or Peter were, they had a job to do.
The tea was filling but strange. Wendy could have done with some proper sandwiches, pastries, or crackers. And she had to sneak the questionable day-old rabbit meat to Luna, who snapped it up discreetly and happily. But she appreciatively drank the strange reddish-brown decoction of leaves and twigs the Lost Boys swore was just like proper tea if you didn’t think about it too much. And in truth, it wasn’t bad; it just wasn’t East India Company Darjeeling. It had a warm, almost cinnamony taste.
Luna had a big bowl of fresh, cold water, and Tootles insisted on having his tea the same way, on the floor. After that and several stale biscuits, plus a little rest (and more tummy rubs than any puppy could really ask for from a hideout full of instantly devoted fans), it was finally time to leave.
Outside the air was as fresh and bracing as Never Land air ever was. A great day for flying.
But while the two girls were getting ready to say their goodbyes, Wendy noticed that Skipper kept looking at her strangely—almost in fascination.
“Is there something wrong?” Wendy asked, of course immediately needing to fix whatever problem there was.
“Nuthin’,” Skipper said, turning away so she couldn’t see his face.
Wendy wasn’t the girl at parties who caused boys to blush. But she had seen it happen with others, like at the spring dance when John was caught off guard by a hello from Alice Cotswaldington. He had turned red, turned away, and choked into his punch.
This wasn’t that. Skipper didn’t seem