face was all that was needed to stop Wendy from launching into a lecture on the danger of unknown plants and their possible toxicity. The fairy wasted precious spit getting all of it—and the taste—out of her mouth.
Finally they arrived at the skirts of the red cliffs. Here giant slopes of rock that looked like they used to be part of the mountains finally succumbed to time and melted into piles of sand and rubble. Amongst their folds were multiple canyons twisting and leading deep into the plateau. Wendy picked a likely one and pointed. Tinker Bell nodded. They plunged ahead.
“So…Tinker Bell…” Wendy ventured after they had walked for a bit. “Your little—pardon me—your fairy friends back there…What were their names? Berryloon and… ?”
Thorn.
“Thorn. Yes, that suits the fellow quite well. Thorn. Like with his sword, stabbing.”
Tinker Bell narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
Wendy slipped down a treacherous patch of slick rock covered in fine gravel. More of her skirt tore. Without even thinking this time, she simply ripped off the ragged piece and tied it around her middle like a belt.
“Cuts quite a figure, doesn’t he? I mean, his apparel was most immodest—but he wore it well. Didn’t he?”
Tinker Bell buzzed over to hang in Wendy’s face.
Oh my phlox. You like him.
“Like?” Wendy said indignantly. “I hardly know the boy. I was just saying how handsome he was, and well-spoken, and his ears were very elegant.”
You like Thorn.
Whatever the fairy was saying from then on grew incomprehensible as she lapsed into great peals of jingly laughter that echoed off the canyon walls. She actually held her belly and guffawed, wasting quantities of sparkling fairy dust on the sand below. This only irritated Wendy further. She had just grown used to flying and was now more than a little peeved that her power was gone.
“All right, all right, no need to be all gossipy and schoolgirlish about it.”
It’s just…Thorn. He’s so dull. And you’re so big.
“I was only making conversation,” Wendy said grumpily.
Oh, I’m just teasing, the little fairy said, patting her hand, eyes wide with mock apology. When we get out of here and rescue Peter’s shadow, we can go find him in the fairy realms and you can tell him your true feelings.
Or I will, if you can’t.
“Don’t you dare!” Wendy cried.
Tinker Bell wiped a tear of laughter out of her eye. Kidding! I wouldn’t unless you asked me to. It’s just so weird.
“I don’t see why it’s strange. But let me just make sure I am clear about this, so we don’t get into trouble again: you don’t…ah…like him?”
Tinker Bell made a sick face. Then she thought about it. Really thought about it. Then she shrugged: nope.
“You only have eyes for Peter Pan, don’t you?” Wendy asked softly.
Tinker Bell nodded woefully.
“All right, well, we’re not going to discuss him. But what about that other girl? Berryloon or whatever? She acted like she knew you very well. Are you friends?”
Tinker Bell frowned and made a sour face, like she would have spit if she had been less ladylike. Or perhaps had any spit to waste.
“Ah, so you know each other well, but aren’t friends. There are girls like that in my neighborhood—the demonic Shesbow twins, as I call them. Mother and Father are always trying to make me spend time with them. Frankly, I’d rather be alone. Alone, hungry, thirsty, hot, and exhausted, really.”
Tinker Bell nodded vigorously.
“Fairies…spend a lot of time…together, don’t they?”
Tinker Bell rolled her eyes.
Fetes. Balls. Parties. Moon viewings. New moon festivals. Farmers markets. Pollen whispers. Nectar-ines.
“I should very much like to see a fairy Nectar-ine,” Wendy said wistfully. “But I’m sure I probably wouldn’t want to attend many, if I were a fairy. Like the parties and dances in London. I never know what to say that’s appropriate, and everyone thinks I talk too much and I’m odd and…I don’t know. Immature. Childish. Strange?”
Tinker Bell nodded meaninfully. But her eyes were focused elsewhere, on an incident, on the past.
“I guess neither you nor I have had many female friends—any, really?”
Tinker Bell slowly shook her head.
“What about that Lost Boy—er, girl? Skipper?”
Tinker Bell shrugged. Lost Boys. You know. They’re friends…but not friends.
“I do understand,” Wendy said with a sigh. “There are booksellers’ nephews and vendors at the market…but no bosom companions.”
Tinker Bell looked down at her chest, frowning.
“Ah, I mean, very close friends. You know, someone you can tell secrets to, who will always love you no matter what stupid thing you say or do.”
Or will always be