Straight On Till Morning (Disney Twisted Tales) - Liz Braswell Page 0,65

said—what Wendy assumed she was saying. That she would go find Tinker Bell before it was too late and somehow signal to Wendy. After all, despite whatever influence Never Land had, she was still Wendy’s shadow. The shade of a good, well-meaning, honest girl must be a little good herself.

Unless all of Wendy’s worst behaviors were contained in her shadow.

Like her betrayal of Peter Pan…

Wendy had a few long minutes of pondering these oppressive thoughts. But before she even thought it was possible there came a strange and ominous crashing in the woods. As if something was being flailed wildly back and forth. Thrown into the bushes, picked up, and thrown again.

And was that—was there the faintest jingle?

“Tinker Bell!”

Wendy made her feet move in the direction the sounds were coming from as quickly as she could manage.

She often had to stop, pause to listen, run the wrong way for a moment, trip over a plant, then turn the right way again (at least seven times), the way all heroes do when chasing through the woods on a rescue mission.

Like all good heroes she eventually found her quarry. But the scene made no sense at all when she first came upon it.

The qqrimal seemed to be throwing itself around violently. It growled, shook its head, leapt headfirst into a tree, then flowed down its trunk—and then began the whole thing over again. Like a dog with hydrophobia.

Tinker Bell was still clutched in its paws.

Wendy crept up quietly—but it didn’t seem to see her at all.

When she accidentally stepped on a twig and snapped it, then the creature leapt up, alert.

Looking the wrong way.

Carefully, unsure what was going on, Wendy came up behind it as silently as she could, as close as she could.

She grabbed it by the nape of its neck.

Swinging it around quickly before it could flow out of her grasp, she seized its stomach with her other hand. She had to keep tossing it from hold to hold so it couldn’t use its tricky thinning-out powers to escape.

The thing yowled and growled and hissed and batted out with his hind legs. It snapped is jaws wildly in all the wrong directions.

Something strange was going on with its mirror eyes. They looked dull and unseeing.

Wendy tore Tinker Bell out of its grasp and then slammed the qqrimal into the ground. Perhaps harder than was strictly necessary.

“Tink—are you all right?” She held the crumpled and bruised little fairy up for a better look.

Tinker Bell nodded woefully. She was bleeding, but not from the giant punctures Wendy had expected from the creature’s claws. More like scratches from being shaken around while in its grasp.

It was taking me back to its lair. They don’t like…fresh fairy meat.

“Oh!” Wendy said, swallowing.

The qqrimal stood up woozily, swaying and sick.

A black mist—no, shadow!—peeled itself off its face.

Wendy’s shadow had covered its eyes, using herself as a mask!

The animal shook its head and blinked its eyes, back to their normal shiny silver. It gave Wendy a wounded, irritated look.

Wendy, pulling a Tinker Bell, stuck her tongue out at it.

The qqrimal leapt away into the underbrush and disappeared as fast as it could—this time without a single snarky chuff.

Wendy’s shadow triumphantly unfolded herself and stood tall, hands on hips. Her toes touched Wendy’s and the human girl could feel energy and strength pour back into her.

“That was very clever!” Wendy crowed. “You blinded him! Oh, very clever indeed!”

The shadow bowed.

Then she saluted.

And then she took off.

Disappeared into the woods like the qqrimal, but high: into the branches of the canopy layer.

Wendy stumbled but didn’t quite fall.

“I suppose I should have expected that,” she muttered. “No one helps for free around here.”

Tinker Bell, despite her wounds, looked up at the human girl with pity and concern.

That was brave and noble, giving up your shadow for me. Thank you.

“Well, what else was there to do, really?” Wendy asked, a little more tiredly than she wanted.

After the way I treated you—

“I mean, that’s a fair point,” Wendy said with a faint smile. “You’re welcome.”

I don’t deserve it.

You can’t go back to London now.

“What?” the human girl asked, startled.

(Well, that was interesting, at least: she could still feel panic, though muted, in her shadowless state.)

You can’t return home without your shadow.

“But why? Peter left his own shadow in London. And he returned here!”

Peter is almost pixie. You are entirely human. Shadows are different here. They are less of a…requirement than they are in London. The rules of your world are very strict