Page 151 of Losing Wendy

“I thought you said you don’t make fae bargains anymore,” I hiss.

“Here’s something about me you should know, Darling,” the captain says. “Sometimes, I lie.”

Their hands meet, and something silky, the silver lace of a fae bargain, snakes up both of their forearms.

My chest aches.

“Always a pleasure doing business with you, Nolan,” says Peter.

The captain bristles, but so subtly I imagine I’m the only one to notice.

Peter turns.

And flies away.

I watch him for a long while, even as the captain wrestles me to the ship. This time, he doesn’t bother carrying me over his back.

I don’t struggle.

I’m too busy watching my Mate fly away, his shadows for wings disappearing into the distance.

I’m too busy expecting for him to turn around, awaiting the crafty side of Peter to have figured out a way around the bargain.

My eyes are fixed heavenward until the two wings turn to spots in the white sky.

I’m still staring when Captain Astor passes me off to the bald man, who heaves me onto the deck of the ship. My feet feel as if they should fall through, as if the shadows, solid as they might feel, shouldn’t support me.

But I don’t fall.

I just sway with the rhythm of the current beneath us.

Chains rattle as the crew brings the anchor on board, and I’m left stunned—an abandoned isle in the middle of the sea, watching the world shift around me. Vaguely, I hear the claps as the crew embrace the captain and slap him on the back. Vaguely, I feel their gazes drag across my body, examining their captain’s prize.

And still, I gaze up at the sky.

No one comes.

A shape appears next to me. I expect the captain to grab hold of me, to drag me to his rooms beneath the ship and humiliate me completely. Instead, he stands with me on deck as the winds pick up the sails and carry the ship away.

We watch as Neverland grows smaller.

I teeter toward the edge, tingling filling my fingertips as the waves grow treacherous below us.

“Try to jump, and you won’t like what happens after I drag you out of the water.”

“Seems fair,” I say, my voice a thousand miles away.

“And why’s that?”

“Because you didn’t very much like what I did to you when I dragged you out of the water.”

The captain grunts at that, but out of the corner of my eye, I catch him glancing at me.

“What are you going to do to me?” I ask.

“You won’t like that much either.”

I turn to him. “Is it better not knowing?”