Page 59 of Losing Wendy
“The Middle Sister found herself visiting the mason often. It wasn’t long before she knew with all her being that her immortal heart belonged to him, his mortal heart to her. She didn’t need the validation of golden threads marking their skin to know they existed for one another. All she needed was the soft press of his lips to hers and the caress of his adoring words against her ears.
“Up to this point, there was no joy in life that the Middle Sister had ever refused to share with her Eldest Sister. Though she was happy with her lover, she found herself wishing for the Eldest to know of her newfound delight. Now that the mason’s heart had been mended by love, there could be no evil in him. With that inmind, the Middle Sister determined that she would introduce him to her Eldest Sister.
“The path to the farm that the Eldest Sister’s lover inhabited was an arduous one, but the Middle Sister did not mind the journey as long as her mason’s hand was in hers. When they arrived at the cottage, the Eldest was overjoyed to discover her Middle Sister at the door. Even more so, to find her sister in love, for the Eldest valued romance above all else. The four ate, drank, and were merry. And all was well.
“But in the middle of the night, the Middle Sister rose to the sound of the Eldest crying out in anguish. When the Middle Sister reached her, she found the body of the farmer dead on the floor, the mason’s knife jutting through his chest.
“The Middle Sister knew not what to do, for she was sure her eyes were deceiving her. Her mason, now truly a murderer, stood over the corpse with rage glinting in his eyes. He explained that the farmer had once cheated him out of his family’s estate. Horror overtook the Middle Sister. She cried out, lamenting that she had helped to fulfill the very fate she’d been attempting to thwart. The Eldest Sister let out a shriek, and taking hold of the mason by the throat, determined to kill him. But even in her anguish, she knew that such pain would not be punishment enough for her Middle Sister, with no golden thread binding her sister to the mason’s soul. She could not possibly know the misery she had caused.
“So rather than killing the mason, the Eldest Sister set upon him a curse. That his heart would be knit to that of another woman. He would fall so ardently in love with a girl, the Middle Sister would be but a distant memory to him in comparison. One would think this would have provoked enough pain. But the Eldest Sister was certain her own pain would last an eternity, and as she wished the same for her foolish Sister, she added to the curse. The mason would fall in love and bear children. Should he sire a son, the Middle Sister would be cursed to love his eldest male offspring, for all generations.
The Eldest Sister, in turn, made it her mission to ensure the offspring never loved her sister back.
“And thus is the story of the three Sisters. It is said that the Eldest, to this day, weaves the hearts of Mates together as a tribute to her dead lover. The Middle Sister has gone mad with rejection as she seeks the male offspring of her mason, never to receive their affection in return.”
“And the Youngest Sister?” asks Peter from the back.
“It’s said that she minds her own business, occasionally cleaning up messes made by the other two.”
“Sounds familiar,” he says, and I press my lips together to hide my smile. “Though I’ve always heard she assists the dying with letting go.”
My heart thuds as a conversation of my mother’s I wasn’t supposed to overhear taps at my memory, begging to be let in. But I don’t want to relive my childhood panic in front of the boys, so I just say, “If you mean that she poisons them, then yes.”
Peter cocks his head, examining me. I break the stare.
Huddled in a semicircle on the floor, the Lost Boys appear as young as ever. Faintly, I’m aware that developmentally, they’re only a few years younger than I am. Though I suppose I still don’t know how old they really are. Not when I’m unsure as to how time works in this world or when the fae stop aging. But as sleep encroaches on their expressions, it softens them, giving them all boyish qualities.
Even Victor, with his harsh features and shadows framing his eyes, seems to have softened a bit.
“That’s a dreadful story,” says John, tossing a loose twig he picked off the walls my way.
I feign shock. “I always thought it was your favorite.”
I could name off John’s complaints with the story using all ten of my fingers, but the rest of the Lost Boys are beating me to it.
“Yeah, it’s kind of creepy that the Middle Sister falls in love with her lover’s sons and grandsons,” says Nettle.
“That’s the point of the curse, stupid,” says Freckles.
Benjamin frowns. “I thought the point of the curse was to make the Middle Sister miserable.”
“Wouldn’t you be miserable if you fell in love, then were cursed to be a creep who pined after your lover’s descendants?” scoffs Nettle.
Simon places his hands behind his head. “Yeah, it’s basically incest.”
“It’s not at all incest. It’s not like they’re related,” says Joel.
Benjamin scrunches his nose. “They might as well be.”
Grunts of agreement rumble through the boys.
I try not to, but I find myself glancing at Peter every so often. As always, his expression is unreadable. A mask of quiet amusement obscures whatever’s prancing through his mind. I can’t help but wonder how he feels about the way the Lost Boys have taken to me. If he’s still thinking about the conversation we shared while playing with Michael, or if he’s contemplating what it would have been like to watch me fall from a slick cliffside.
Unsettled by the notion, I return to the comfort of the Lost Boys’ bickering. Something in my heart unfolds, and it’s possibly the most dangerous thing I’ve experienced yet—the sense of peace that’s settling over me as, without my express consent, my mind reframes my prison into my home.
CHAPTER 24
I’m up early the next morning, unable to sleep because of the lost boy Thomas’s face hovering in the corners of my mind, his beautiful smile haunting my sleepless nights. If it were just me who’d been snatched out of my home and brought to this island, I’m not sure I’d want to know what happened to him.