08 June 2020

Saving Neverland - Ch 13 - It's my time to shine


(Josie Sayz: This is a story that I began working on several years ago. I am finally reading through it/editing it. This is a fanfiction piece of what would happen if two of my favourite characters Peter Pan (from J M Barrie’s book) and Jack Frost (from ‘Rise of the Guardians’) met, why and what adventure would they go on. I originally wrote this story as a present for a friend. I have decided to dig it out and plan to release each chapter as I edit it. This is Chapter One: ‘Just Keep Reading’.

Note: I do not own Peter Pan or any of the relating characters or places to the story; these are all owned by J M Barrie and ‘Disney’. I do not own Jack Frost or any of the relating characters or places to the story; these are all owned by William Joyce and ‘DreamWorks’.

Chapter One: ‘Just Keep Reading’ can be found here: https://josiesayz.blogspot.com/2019/06/saving-neverland-just-keep-reading.html
Chapter Six: ‘A smile can make a big difference’: https://josiesayz.blogspot.com/2020/04/saving-neverland-smile-can-make-big.html
Chapter Ten: ‘Life can by cruel if you’re a dreamer’: https://josiesayz.blogspot.com/2020/05/saving-neverland-life-can-be-cruel-if.html
Chapter Twelve: ‘Whose side are you on?’: https://josiesayz.blogspot.com/2020/06/saving-neverland-whose-side-are-you-on.html.)


It’s my time to shine
The waves crashed below them. In every direction there was nothing but sea. Thunder rumbled. The boat that was sailing above them slowed. Its shadow cast over them. With his head stretching forwards, his arms, stiff, by his sides and his legs pointed out behind him, Jack raced forwards. Flying by his side, Peter’s head lowered, watching the waves splash down into the surrounding sea. Jack glanced over at him. “You okay?”
“Been better,” Peter grumbled back, rubbing a hand to his eye.
The corner of Jack’s mouth curled into a smile, as he said, “You know-”
“What do we do about Izz?” Peter cried, turning his face to Jack’s. “She can’t have tricked us, she just can’t. And you left her there, with Hook an’ the Boogeyman.” Clenching his hands into fists, Peter yelled, “How could you?”
“Hey, hey,” said Jack, holding a hand up in surrender. “Easy, Pan. Izz didn’t trick us,” he told Peter with a smile. “She’s on our side.”
“What?” Peter exclaimed, halting in mid-air. Jack stopped and turned towards him. “How is she? Did you not hear a word she said? Izz’s become one of them. She’s a rotten villain now, like Hook,” Peter cried as he gripped his hands around Jack’s shoulders and shook him.
“Alright!” Jack shouted. “Calm down.” He removed Peter’s hands from his shoulders and said, “Did you notice Izz’s bracelet? You know, the one I made her.”
“Are you insane!” Peter raged. “Izz could be being manipulated into drinking a glass of poison right now and all you care about is some lousy bracelet?”
“Hey!” Jack yelled back. “It’s not lousy. I made it.”
“Well then its extra lousy,” Peter retorted.
Seeping a breath through gritted teeth, Jack’s fingers trembled as he curled them into claws in front of him. Blowing his breath out, he straightened his fingers and inhaled again. “You really know how to wind a person up, do you know that?” Jack asked, leaning his head to the side, as he stared at Peter.
“Why thanks,” he replied, without a hint of sarcasm. Jack threw his head back and groaned, as he ran his fingers through his hair.
Turning back to Peter, Jack muttered, “Let’s try again.” Looking down, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I’m only going to try once, so listen carefully,” Jack warned him. Peter nodded and curled his index finger around his chin and prodded his thumb in his cheek. “Right,” Jack began. “Izz isn’t a villain. She’s on our side.” As Peter opened his mouth, Jack held up his hand. “Erph, no…” he warned. “Izz was still wearing the bracelet that I made her, and if you recall her saying that she loved it earlier, not only was that reaction genuine, but also, if she really hated us, I’m certain she would have taken it off.”
“Is that it?” Peter laughed. “Mr. Clever and that’s all you could think off. That Izz loved your gift so much, so she’s obviously not evil. And I thought I was dumb.” Shaking his head, Jack sighed.
“Did you not see back there what she was doing?” Jack asked, throwing an arm towards the Jolly Roger, which had now sailed past them. “It was obvious that Pitch and Hook were listening in at the door, she couldn’t very tell us what she was doing without them finding out.” Peter gave a slow nod. “But,” Jack said, as his eyes widened. “She also jangled her bracelet at us… several times. It wasn’t obvious back then what she was doing… but now…” Looking down at his hand, Jack smiled. Crossing his legs, Peter hummed as he scratched his head.
“So, let me get this straight…” said Peter, as he rubbed the hand that had been scratching his head across his mouth. “Are you saying that Izz gave herself up to save Neverland…?”
“Probably,” said Jack shrugging. “She even told us where they were planning to place the bomb to blow up the island – remember?”
“Yeah,” Peter gasped clicking his fingers. “At the top of the Never Peak waterfall.” Turning his head in Neverland’s direction, Peter squinted. “But we’ll never make it to Neverland before they do now,” Peter groaned. He pointed at the pirate ship, sailing through the sky a great distance ahead.
“We’ve gotta try,” Jack told him. Peter nodded and the two of them threw themselves to the wind and followed Captain Hook’s ship.
Bodies like a human arrow, the two boys sped over the sea. The sky grew darker. The sea lashed harsher. Their faces scrunched up and they both arched a hand over their eyes, as the wind changed direction and gusted towards them. “We’ll never catch up now,” Peter sighed. Rope slashed. They jumped. Throwing his head over his left, then right shoulder, Jack scanned the sky for the sound. There was a snorting sound too and a jangle of bells. Peter leapt towards Jack.
“Need a lift?” came a voice from behind them. The boys jumped. Turning to face the voice they gasped. A large wooden sleigh, painted in red, black and gold pulled up alongside them; drawn by a collection of nine huge reindeer, each taller than Jack as he stood beside them. The man at the reins too was large: covered in a huge red coat, with brown fur at the collar and cuffs. His sleeves ended at the elbow and he bore a great tattoo on each of his forearms. His left arm read, ‘Nice,’ and was surrounded by snowflakes, holly and Christmas trees. His right arm said, ‘Naughty,’ and was bordered by a pattern of zigzags, arrows and aeroplanes. His coat was wrapped tight around his body with a thick, black belt bearing a square, brass buckle at his waist. From his face a long, thick, white beard flowed, and he wore a black, fur hat on his head. His eyes, clear blue, glazed into Jack’s.
“North,” Jack laughed. “Gosh, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. What are you doing here?”
“We,” North replied, with a jerk of his head to the rest of the sleigh behind him. “Came to help you out.”
“We...?” Jack mumbled with a frown. Hovering closer towards his friend’s sleigh, Jack peered inside.
A towering crown of turquoise and blue feathers, with a yellow, vertical stripe in the centre peered into Jack’s face. A pair of spiked, transparent, purpley wings shot up from behind her shoulders. Around her neck, yellowy feathers covered her chest, flowing into sea-green and deep blue as they spread around her body. Her piercing violet eyes widened, as they met Jack’s. “Tooth!” Jack exclaimed. She laughed and threw her dainty tanned hands around his shoulders, giving him a squeeze. “Sandy!” Jack gasped at the short man at Tooth’s side. His body and clothes were made entirely from golden coloured sand and his hair spiked up in even, geometric sections, resembling the burning flames of the sun. The little, golden man waved a hand at Jack, grinning as far as his mouth would allow. Loosening himself from Tooth’s grip, Jack peered over towards the opposite side of the sleigh, where their fourth team member sat. His body covered in greyish-blue fur, his biceps were marked with dark blue stencils of tulips. Throwing his head up, the final member looked towards Jack. Two massive ears poked up from the top of his head and his nose twitched. Looking at Jack, his bright green eyes widened.
“Sorry mate,” he said to Jack with a shrug. “You know I don’t do the sleigh,” he said, holding a hand to his stomach.
“Bunny,” said Jack with a smile to the six foot three Pooka rabbit. “It’s great to see you too.”
Having scratched his head all the while Jack greeted his friends; Peter turned to them and asked, “Who are you?” Jack spun himself back around to Peter and held his hands out towards his fellow guardians.
“Peter,” Jack said with a proud grin. “I’d like you to meet North – Father Christmas,” he added, nudging Peter’s arm with his elbow. “Tooth, the Tooth Fairy, the Sandman and the Easter Bunny.” Turning to the guardians he pointed a finger at Peter. “Everybody, this is Peter Pan.”
“Arrh, yes,” said North with a slow nod. “The cheeky little boy, who can’t help but play pranks on people. I bet you and Jack make a pretty good team.”
“Yeah,” Peter said with a smirk. “But how did you find Neverland?”
“Why…” said North with a big, cheery grin. “I’ve been to Neverland plenty of times… who else delivers you gifts on Christmas morning?” Peter’s eyes widened and his mouth parted as he stared at North. “Now come on boys,” North said, curling an arm towards himself. “Jump in. We have some business to take care of.” As Jack and Peter leapt into the sleigh, North gripped onto the reindeer reins and flicked his wrists. Kicking up their feet, his reindeer neighed and trotted their feet on the spot, before dashing after the pirate ship.

*

Looking out of the window to his office, Hook stood with his arms behind his back. Admiring the progress that his men had made, he announced, “Neverland is in sight.” Turning from the window, he faced his company. “We should arrive shortly.”
“Excellent,” Pitch replied, as he stroked a finger across Hook’s desk. He brought his finger up to his face and wiped the dirt that he had picked up against his thumb. It crumbled beneath his touch. He rubbed his hand down his robe and turned to Izz, who had seated herself in a rounded, wooden chair, with a vertical beamed back and curved arm rests, on the farthest side of the room from them. With her elbows on the chair’s arms, she laced her fingers together and watched the two men opposite her. Seeing Pitch look towards her, she raised her chin, awaiting his comment.
“That was a brave speech you just made,” Pitch told her, as he took a step nearer. “I didn’t think you had it in you.” Izz gave a shrug and smiled at him.
“Well I learnt from the best,” she told him, tilting her head to her right. As Captain Hook made his way around the table, Izz added, “Besides, I made the whole thing up. I just wanted to upset the two of them, just how they upset me.” Pitch lifted his head and a smile emerged from his mouth. “I don’t need them now,” she told her new companions. “I have you two. You understand me. We all want the same thing.”
“Right you are, me dear,” said Captain Hook as he leant against his desk. Pitch turned towards him. The pirate gave him a nod and Pitch strode around to the desk’s chair.
Rising from the desk’s edge, Captain Hook unfastened the buttons of his justacorps and with his left hand pulled the side of his coat open, blocking the Boogeyman from her view. A scraping sounded behind him. Izz stretched her head, trying to see around Captain Hook, but to no avail. His opened jacket blocked her view. Leaning back in the chair, she watched as the captain tugged at his coat. Beneath his cloak, the pirate wore a tightfitting white shirt, tucked into a pair of deep crimson trousers. The distant ticking noise increased in volume, but knowing that she could not see Pitch’s movement behind Hook, she chose to ignore it. Instead she examined the inside of Captain Hook’s coat. He had four pockets. The first, nearest to his chest, poked the ivory handle of his flintlock pistol. From his second pocket, the lump that produced from his pouch was long and narrow. With a metal-grey spout poking out, Izz assumed this to be his pistol’s vent pick, used for prodding the gunpowder down his gun. His third pocket appeared swollen in a great lump. Squinting her eyes, Izz noticed small, round bumps bulging out. ‘That must be his bag of ball bearings,’ she realised, ‘For shooting with.’ Turning to the pouch furthest away from his body, Izz noticed that this was by far the widest and shortest pocket, in comparison to the first three, that had all been thin and narrow. This pocket held a round, flat flask. Arching the barb of his hook over the rim of his coat, the pirate curled his left hand inside his jacket and towards the flask. Sliding it out, he brought the metal case up to his ear and shook it. A soft pattering of particles flung around the flask. ‘The pistol’s powder,’ Izz told herself. The sound of scraping wood sounded again. She pricked her ears up. The ticking noise had muffled again. Staring at the pirate captain, Izz’s brow puckered.
Seeming satisfied with the amount of powder in his flask, Captain Hook returned it to his pocket, before draping his coat back over him. He slipped the leather strip of his belt back through his brass buckle and pulled tight. As Pitch emerged from around the desk, a rectangular box-shape concealed under his robe, Captain Hook turned to the window. Reaching into a slanted pocket on the outside of his jacket, the pirate pulled out a shiny, brass spyglass. He flicked his wrist and the scope expanded in length. Holding it to his left eye, he rested his hook against it and winked his right eye closed. “Land ho!” called the captain. Lowering his scope from his eye, Captain Hook pressed it against his hip, collapsing it and slipped it back in his pocket. “Well, me dear,” he said with a raised voice as he spun himself around to face Izz. “Pitch and I must be off – Neverland is in sight.”
“Won’t you need help carrying your things?” Izz asked, rising from the chair. “I know you said I can’t go with you,” she added. “But aren’t you taking any of the crew?”
“A few a me most trusted lads, lass,” Hook told her, leaning his head towards her. “Now, you stay ‘ere and guard me ship ‘til we get back, you ‘ear.”
“Yes sir,” she said with a giggle, as she saluted him.
“At a girl,” he replied with a smile. “C’mon Pitch,” said the pirate, as he headed for the door. Cradling his arms around the device under his cloak, Pitch ignored Izz and strode to the door.
 Izz waited until their footsteps faded down the corridor before she approached the door. Gripping her hand to the door’s rounded knob, she pressed her ear against the room’s wooden entry. She smiled to herself, as the footsteps dimmed in the distance. Straightening her back, she twisted the doorknob and pulled. Leaning back, Izz’s hand slipped away from the brass handle. She staggered back. Shaking her head, she rubbed her hands down her trousers and turned the knob again. It jarred, refusing to twist all of the way around. She shook it and tried again. She thumped her left fist against the door and gave it a kick. Still the door refused to open. Turning her back to the door she clawed a hand through her hair. “I don’t believe it,” she growled and stomped her foot on the ground. “I’m locked in.”

*

Arriving in Neverland, the view from above had changed. Instead of bright blue waters, flocks of swaying evergreen trees, meadows of light, pastel flowers, a chorus of birds chirping and herds of animal prancing by, Neverland remained still. Apart from one bay at Mermaid Lagoon, the whole of the island’s water was a dark violaceous-black. All of the creatures from Cannibal Cove had crept out of their inlets and began traipsing around the rest of the island. Mounds of dirt piled up, as holes were dug. Trees lay crashed to the ground. The vibrant reds, oranges, greens and yellows of the fruit that clung to the trees were all gone. All of the tipis at the Redskin Camp had been dismantled. “No,” breathed Peter, clambering up at the front of the sleigh beside North. “We can’t be too late.” Gazing down as the land that lay in ruins, Peter prodded a finger towards the right of the island. “There!” Peter shouted. “Take us to the waterfall.” Following Peter’s orders, North flicked his wrists, lashing the reins against his reindeer. They swerved to the right and charged down towards the Babbling Brook.
While North and Peter took control of the sleigh’s steering, Jack sat beside the Easter Bunny and smiled from him, to North, then around to Tooth and the Sandman, before resting his eyes back upon his long-eared friend in front of him. Scratching a paw to his face, the Easter Bunny frowned at Jack and asked, “What?” Jack smirked.
“I can’t believe you came,” Jack told them, as he shook his head. “I thought you wanted nothin’ t’ do with me,” he said lowering his eyes to side of the sleigh, as his smiled faded. “Said I was just some kid, who needed to learn when to stop foolin’ around.”
“Well we were wrong,” said Tooth softly, placing a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Sandy told us he saw and Pitch, and Peter too,” she told him. “He came and warned us.” Jack glanced over to her and shifted the side of his mouth into a smile. “Who knew that all of children’s hopes, dreams and wishes could reside all in one place?” Shifting his gaze to the Sandman, Jack swallowed a lump that he had felt building up inside his throat.
“Thanks Sandy,” Jack told him.
“Looks like we all owe you an apology, mate,” said the Easter Bunny. As Jack faced him, he shrugged. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” whispered Tooth.
“And me,” shouted North over his shoulder. The silent Sandman nodded.
“Thanks guys,” Jack told them, looking at each of them in turn. “It means a lot.”
The sleigh swerved. The Easter Bunny clasped a hand to his mouth and threw his head over the side. Snapping at the reins, North yelled, “He-yah!” as they dove into a steep descent. Swooping back up, the sleigh levelled off, as the reindeer reached the ground. The sleigh skidded forwards, slowing in paced as it scraped through a bed of flowers.
As the others adjusted to the landing, Peter leapt up and flicked his head from the left to the right. North had settled the sleigh down in the meadow surrounding the Babbling Brook. Its flowers had wilted. Some had crumpled, turning brown, while the ones closest to the water had shrivelled into balls of black. Looking up on the hill to his right, Peter spotted a group of bobbing heads. Having spotted Peter and the others, the heads dove down behind the bushes. Peter rose into the air in an attempt to identify the travellers. An arrowhead peered through a gap between the branches. Leaves shuffled. A high-pitched whine squealed from the hilltops, followed close by a groan and a ramble of muffled voices.
“Lost Boys!” Peter shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Assemble.”
“It’s Pan!” came a cry.
“Peter’s back,” said another. A mount of shouts echoed, as the boys fought each other to get a view of their leader. After brawling and fumbling about, the Lost Boys managed to line themselves up, from shortest to tallest, along the hill’s path. The boys each held their hand in a salute upon their eyebrow and pressed out their chests, as Peter hovered over to them.
“I trust that you carried out my orders and followed Tinker Bell back here?” Peter asked, folding his arms over his chest, as he lowered himself closer to his men.
“Aye, aye, Pan,” said Nibs, lowering his salute.
“You bet cha we did,” Slightly told him.
“Now… what did Tink ask you t’ do?” Peter demanded.
“To watch the waterfall,” said one of the twins.
“And make sure no one comes near it,” added the other.
“Yeah,” piped up Tootles. Peter gave a nod.
“But nothin’s ‘appened yet,” Curly complained. “Standin’ around’s borin’.”
“Yeah,” the twins sang. “Borin’.”
“Well worry not men,” Peter said pressing his fists to his hips. “You’re about t’ be a part of Neverland’s biggest battle ever.”
“Really?” the boys gaped. Peter nodded.
“No joke men,” he told them. “Hook ‘n’ Pitch are on their way – the pirates too. Hook’s gonna try t’ swipe the heart of Neverland and blow up the island.” Ignoring the boys’ cries, Peter continued. “I need you to keep watch. Do whatever it takes to stop ‘em, no matter what the cost.”
“Aye, aye Pan,” they sang out.
“Good,” Peter said with a nod.
As Peter re-joined Jack and the guardians, he pointed a hand to the sky and stared. The others turned to see what it was he was pointing at and gasped. “My,” said North, raising his eyebrows. “That is one large vessel.”
“Crikey,” exclaimed the Easter Bunny, as he bounced back. “That thing is huge.” Having lowered deep into Neverland, the Jolly Roger sailed across the tops of trees. Scraping against the Never Peak, the boat soared past them, its sails flapping hard against the wind.
“Where’s it going?” Jack shouted over to Peter, as the breeze turned into gusts.
“I dunno,” Peter yelled back. “Hook’s probably just tryin’ t’ scare us.”
“Well he’s doing a good job,” Tooth cried, as the ship’s shadow engulfed them.
The water in the brook rippled. Its waves swept up against the shore. A cluster of leaves edging the bank became covered in the water’s thick purpled poison. As the water sloshed back, the leaves were no more than black curls of dirt.
Having stared at the water’s ripple, Peter noticed an arrow shoot down into the brook. As the ship passed, Peter arched his head around the stern of the ship. “Look,” he gasped, as he tugged on Jack’s sleeve and pointed up to the highest mountain of the Never Peak. “The redskins.” The native tribe had settled upon the many levels of the large, grey mountain. Their horses trotted up the mountain path, bringing with them more of their tribe. Several of the natives began setting up tipis, marking their new territory. As Captain Hook’s ship has passed, many of the natives had taken to firing their weapons.
“But how did they know to come here?” Jack asked.
“I warned Flying Eagle when we arrived at the Redskin Camp earlier,” Peter told him. Turning to Peter, Jack gave him a pat on the back. “I’d better go tell him about Hook,” Peter said, facing his friend. Jack nodded.
“Good idea,” he told him.
Turning from Peter to the other guardians, Jack pointed his staff at the Tooth Fairy. “Tooth, Sandy,” he said as he spun his staff around to the Sandman. “I need you two to go with Peter an’ help the redskins fight off Pitch’s nightmares an’ the pirates. North,” Jack said turning to the large red coated man. “Can you take Bunny up to the farthest green mountain?” he asked pointing to the mound where the Peter had spoken to the Lost Boys.
“That I can,” replied North.
“Bunny, I need you to help the Lost Boys stop the pirates and the nightmares any way you can,” ordered Jack.
“Got it,” said the Easter Bunny with a nod.
“An’ North, keep flyin’ around in your sleigh and help anyone you can.”
“You can count on me,” he told Jack
“Peter and I’ll deal with Hook and Pitch,” he said as he turned to face Peter. Peter nodded back, a grin stretching across his face
“Jack,” Tooth cried, fluttering at his side. She placed a hand on his arm. “Be careful.”
“I’ll try,” he said as he nodded at her. Turning to face the group, Jack yelled, “Are we ready?”
“Yes,” Tooth shouted. The Sandman nodded.
“You bet,” replied Peter and North.
“You don’t ‘ave to ask me twice,” said Bunny.
“Good,” growled Jack. “Then let’s go!”

*

The sky outside grew darker. Thick amaranthine clouds swept over the stars. The sparkling scene above soon became a blur of black. The lighting inside the captain’s quarters grew dark. Shadows stretched across the room. With her back to the window, Izz glanced around Captain Hook’s study. To her left was the far wall, where Captain Hook’s bookcase and odds and ends were kept and the rounded armchair that she had sat in earlier. Arching around the room from that was the cabin door. To the right of the door hung a tapestry. An oval map of the six continents and the seven seas was stitched into the hanging’s centre. It was similar, Izz realised, to the framed picture that the captain kept on his bookcase. There were brown and beige Celtic swirls that framed the edges of the map and the title ‘Typvs Orbis Terrarvm’ was stitched in capital lettering and in gold at the top of the tapestry. In front of the map lay Captain Hook’s desk, vertical between Izz and the wall. A large, thick wooded armchair was seated behind the desk. It was backed in a burgundy leather with silver studs stabbed around the outside, holding the animal skin to the chair. Behind the chair, a painting hung. It was a portrait of the pirate captain himself. Captain Hook stood in the centre of a gold frame. His eyes were deep, bold and green, his nose was firm, large and hooked and his strong, broad, clean-shaven chin was held high. His moustache poked upwards either side of his nose and curled inwards at the ends. Although he smiled, no lines creased the side of his face, nor did they wrinkle under his eye sockets. His eyebrows appeared tamed, as did his mane of black, bushy ringlets. His white cravat ruffled under his chin, as he slid his hooked hand inside his justacorps. His expression boasted a calmness both proud and important. ‘Painted by an obvious admirer,’ Izz thought, rolling her eyes with a smirk.
Looking around the room again, Izz’s eyes fixed upon Captain Hook’s trunk in the centre of his bookcase’s bottom shelf. Her eyes widened. She took a step towards it. As her shadow stretched over the chest, she stood still. She frowned. ‘It’s too dark,’ she told herself. Turning back, she looked up. To the ceiling a singular wooden beam stretched across the length of the room, from the bookcase behind her, all of the way over to Captain Hook’s portrait. Above the edge of the desk and the boxed bay (underneath the window) hung an oil filed lantern with four glass panelled sides. A catch stretched across the one face, while its adjacent panel held two hinges, one at the top and one at the bottom, to open the lantern’s door. Above the glass panels the brass top domed up and towards the centre, where it formed into a cylindrical food-tin shape. A slit was formed near the top of the cylinder, where a horizontal brass wire fed through and arched over, creating a handle, with a worn, leathered finger-grip.
Stretching up on to the tips of her toes, Izz’s fingers tapped against one of the lantern’s glass faces. The lamp swung from the nail where it hung on the beam. Its flame lashed up, rapping on the glass door. Izz pressed her fingers to her mouth and pressed her thumb to her cheek as she began to think. ‘I need a little more height,’ she realised. Arching her head over her shoulder, she glanced her eyes down upon the ledge of the window bay. She gave a smirk, as she leapt up onto the timber box underneath the window frame. Hoisting herself up, she stretched her arms above her head. She leant forwards and grabbed her hands out for the wooden beam above. With one hand wrapped around the beam, she pressed one hand below the lantern. Her fingers trembling under its weight, she forced her hand up, lifting the handle from its nail. The lamp tipped forwards. Its latched door swung open. Izz gasped, as oil poured out onto the desk. The flame blazed, dancing fierce. She jumped down. Tipping the lamp back, she threw the door shut with her spare hand. She locked the catch and placed the lamp on the floor. The lantern’s flickering flame shrunk down to a small glow. Holding her hands out, oil dripped from them. She spun her head around, looking for something to dry them on. Spotting the tapestry, she lifted up the bottom corner and scrubbed her hands over it. The map darkened, damp with oil. Her hands now dry, Izz pulled the tapestry out taut over Captain Hook’s desk to try and free it from creases. As she let go, it snagged on a rough splint of wood on the edge of the desk.
Turning back to the lantern, Izz picked it up and carried it over to the bookcase. Placing the glow beside the chest, Izz crouched down. Inhaling deep through her nasal passage, she gripped her hands around the trunk and heaved it towards her. Her eyebrows rose, as the chest slid with ease. With the container between her hands, it was no wider than one of her school exercise books. Made of a dark mahogany wood, the chest was etched with waves of sea curls. The rims of the box smoothed, and the pointed corners had worn away. There was a brass latch, which curved and spiralled out towards her, before arching back inwards. It hooked over the slit which separated the lid from the chest’s body. Where the bottom of the latch flicked upwards, Izz poked her finger underneath it. The latch did not budge. She held her thumb to the lip and tugged – still there was no movement. ‘It has to open,’ she sighed. ‘He wouldn’t of been so secretive over it otherwise,’ she thought, remembering back to Captain Hook warning her away from the chest earlier. Tilting her head, Izz scrunched her mouth up and examined the box. Looking inside the latch’s hole, she noticed a key shape. “Of course,” she mumbled. “Locked.”
Picking up the lantern, she got to her feet and wandered back over to the desk. Walking around to Captain Hook’s chair, she settled down in it and placed the lamp at the desk’s corner to her right. Tugging open the top right drawer, Izz pulled out a handful of plain pages, two bottles of ink and a quill and dumped them on the desk. Closing the drawer, she slid open the one below. Pulling out its contents, she placed that too on the table. A broken marine compass, several shards of glass, a sailor’s handbook, pieces of charcoal and a list of food to swipe from the Mainland: bread, milk, bottled water, fancy biscuits, cheese and rum – ‘Peculiar tastes for a seventeenth century pirate,’ she mused, as she tossed the paper aside. As she emptied the second drawer, she threw her head back and groaned, before moving over to the desk’s other side. Tugging open the top drawer, Izz sighed. It was empty. She slid her hand inside and rummaged around. Nothing. ‘They must have kept the bomb in here,’ she realised. She closed it and opened the second drawer. It dragged stiff across its runners, heavy with weight. Izz pulled out a pile of papers. She opened out the first – a map of Neverland, covered with crosses, scribbles and tiny, pin holes. She swallowed, recognising it. Placing it on the table, she turned to the rest of the drawers’ contents. Lists of places where he had searched for the Philosopher’s Stone, yet failed, a letter entitled, ‘To Me,’ which listed several of Hook’s supposed good points: ‘You must know that you are the most handsome and most charismatic individual that I have ever had the pleasure to meet. You are charming, full of manners and always show good form. Your jaw is so broad and so strong that you are the talk of all of the women, both here, and back on the Mainland. Your magnificent mane of hair, your horrific hook and your gleaming green eyes make you, by far, the most fearsome man of all the land. Why James, my friend, there is no one I would rather be than me.’ Staring at Hook’s letter, Izz’s fingers crumpled into the paper. “That really is all he wants…” she whispered. “Just to be loved.” She scrunched her eyes and shook her head, throwing all thoughts of the pirate from her mind. She placed the paper onto the desk with the rest of the junk and continued with her search.
Two compasses, one geometric, the other another marine (however, this one worked), a large brass spyglass, a round candle tray full of wax, seven candles, a box of wooden splints, a ball of string, a pipe, a cigar holder, a box made of card with three cigars inside, a small woven sack of tobacco and three large, hard backed books. As Izz lifted the books onto the desk, she stared down into the bottom of the desk drawer. A rusted key, smaller than her thumb, lay in the drawer’s centre. Allowing the books to scatter across the desk, Izz swiped the key and the lamp and ran back to the chest.
Izz threw the lantern to the side and sat herself down in front of the chest. Pinching the key tight, she fumbled it into the lock. Twitching her wrist left and right, she forced the key inside. She held her breath, as she turned it. The key twisted around to the right. The lock clicked. The latch sprang up. Pulling the key out, Izz gripped the edges of the chest. She held her breath and lifted the lid.

*

War cries rang out over Neverland. Towards the top of the Never Peak, arrows shot out over the masses of midnight-black nightmares that circled the mountaintop. The redskins’ horses flung their front legs up and gave a whining neigh. The riders thudded to the ground, arrows scattering everywhere. The ghastly, glowing onyxes took advantage of the fall; clattering their hooves, they moved in closer. Men scrambled to their feet. Wooden arrow splints shot into the air, piercing through one of the malevolent mares. Its sand particles separated, evaporating before it touched the tops of the mountains. The natives threw their hands in the air and gave a screeching cheer.
Darting towards a line of Pitch’s nightmares, headfirst, Tooth swooped into a spinning dive. Her wings sparked outwards, slicing through the edges of the onyxes as they swept past. Stretching her arms out, she forced her fingers forwards. Her nails razor sharp, they sliced into the anything and everything that shot by. Diving the crown of feathers on the top of her head into the line of nightmares, Tooth flung herself into the black horses’ sides. As her touch collided with theirs, her happiness, love and hope shattered each of Pitch’s minions into grains of sand. After crashing through six of them, Tooth gripped her head and hissed, “Yes,” as her dizziness subsided. As the nightmares continued to gang up on the island natives, Tooth stiffened her arms, spread out her wings and flung herself towards the creatures once more.
Stood high above the Never Peak, the Sandman flicked his wrists and a golden coil of sand shot out of each of his hands, wrapping itself around two of Pitch’s devil mares. As the golden spiral wove itself around the onyxes’ manes, both of the horses crumbled to a purple-black gravel. Angered by the Sandman’s destruction of members of their pack, a herd of mares charged towards the little glowing man. Their hooves clopped against the air as they raced through the sky towards him. Throwing their heads up, their manes ruffled as they neighed, vibrating their lips. Clouds of deep Monaco-blue steam billowed out of their snouts. Swinging one arm and then the other over his head, the Sandman swung a golden vine whip from each hand at the enemy. With a flick from his wrist each of the nightmares became a crumple of powder.
On the far side of the evergreen hills, rocks where being shot into the air, clubs were swung, hammers were bashed, and pinecones were hurtled in every direction. There was a growl as one of the twins fired a stone from his slingshot and it plummeted into a pirate’s eye. Howling in pain the pirate threw both of his hands up to his face. His sword clattered to the ground. Slightly swiped the blade and began battling with another buccaneer. Their swords clashed. Hearing one of the twins yell, “Duck,” Slightly dipped his head. Three jagged rocks hurtled over his shoulder and into the pirate’s face. He staggered back. Another of Captain Hook’s men ran at Curly, who swung his club around in circles over his head. The nimble man dodged Curly’s thumps and swiped his cutlass at the chubby boy’s legs. With a howling cry, Curly fell to his knees. A stick whacked against the back of the pirate’s head. He fell forwards, his face dropping into a pile of mud. Holding his stick in his hand, Tootles stood on top of Nibs’ shoulders, who was stood on top of the twins, who were crouched onto the floor. As the group jumped into separation, they continued their fight with the pirates.
The Easter Bunny thrust his right arm over his shoulder and flung it forwards. Three small, colourful ovals soared through the air and thumped into the backs of three pirates, turning into coloured dust upon impact. “Bullseye!” he said as the pirates dropped their weapons. The Lost Boys took advantage and threw whatever they could towards their unarmed foe. Tapping his foot to the ground, a hole emerged. The Easter Bunny dropped inside. As the tips of his ears lowered in, the hole closed up. Higher up the mountain another hole emerged in the ground. The Easter Bunny leapt out. His ears twitched and his eyes shot from left to right. He sniffed. A nightmare raced past him. He threw his right arm over his shoulder. Flinging his arm back across his body a hand-carved, wooden boomerang spiralled forward. He seeped a breath as his weapon missed the mare by a hairline. The nightmare turned to face him, neighing, throwing its head in the air. He scrunched up his face, wriggling his nose. With the whistle of the wind, his boomerang swept back, slicing through the back of the nightmare’s head. Stretching up to catch his timber tool, as it returned to him, the Easter Bunny smirked and said to the air where the nightmare had been, “Never mess with the Bunny.”
Swinging through the sky in his sleigh, North swiped a sword from his belt and swung it out to his left as a nightmare raced by. He yanked on the reins. His reindeer whined, kicking their hooves. Gripping the reins around his right wrist, North gave a tug, pulling them towards his right. With a shake of their heads, the reindeer arched to their left and swung the sleigh around. “That’s it,” North said to them. “Easy now.” He flicked his wrist, lashing at the reins. The reindeer picked up speed. Their gallop increased, as they caught up with the shadowy mare. The deer overtook. The horse shook his head, breathing out deep through its nose. Jumping up, North jabbed his sword out to his left. The nightmare leapt back. Dropping the reins at his feet, North yanked another sword from his belt. His swiped the swords together, their metal slashing against the other’s blade. The mare’s golden eyes narrowed. North gave a chuckle. “Come on horsey,” he teased. “Have a taste for metal?” The nightmare threw its front legs into the air, neighing, as it shook its mane. North laughed, and bounced his elbows, a sword ready in both hands. With a piercing cry, the mare charged forwards. North lunged himself towards the nightmare, with a deep, war bellow. The black horse leapt over the old man with a mocking snort. North swung his swords up over his head. He missed. The nightmare spun around, eyeing up North and his sleigh. It stroked one of its front hooves across the sky as a growling emerged from its throat. North clambered to the right of his sleigh and prodded his swords out towards it. The nightmare lowered its head and charged forwards, crashing into the side of North’s sleigh.
Jack leapt back. Pitch cackled as he swung his scythe at Jack’s ankles. Jack hopped up, cupping his feet underneath him. Swinging his arms across his body, he threw his staff into Pitch’s sickle. As Pitch’s arms trembled, Jack pressed all of his weight against him. Pitch’s smug grin merged into a deep frown; his eyebrows shot down and the skin around his nose creased. Pitch’s arms drew back, as Jack’s pressure increased. Pitch pinched his eyes shut, gripped his scythe with both hands and flung his arms forwards. He gave a laugh as Jack shot backwards, plummeting down towards the poisoned brook.
Two arms scooped underneath Jack’s body as he hurtled towards the poison. His falling stopped. Having closed his eyes from the shock of falling, he arched his head to the right, feeling the presence of a person. A blur of tree-trunk-brown clouded his vision as his saviour lowered him to the ledge beside the waterfall. “You alright Frost?” Jack gripped his head and ran his fingers through his hair.
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Thanks Peter. What about you?”
“No sign of Hook,” he told Jack.
“I’ll try ‘n’ keep my eyes peeled,” Jack replied. Watching Pitch turn to the Never Peak, holding a hand to his stomach and laughing, Jack glanced up at the nightmares surrounding the redskins, Tooth and the Sandman. “We have t’ do something. Pitch’s nightmares just keep multiplying.”
“Neverland’s strong,” Peter told him pressing his fists to his hips. “We’ll keep fighting long after they’re tired.”
Turning back to Peter, Jack muttered, “I hope you’re right,” as he stared beyond him at the Jolly Roger hovering over Mermaid Lagoon.

*

Lifting the lid, a brown, leather-backed book gazed back at her. Izz slipped her hands into the chest and scooped it out. She stroked a hand over the cover. As she pressed a hand to the ground to stand, she noticed that there was something still in the bottom of the box. Tilting her head to one side, she leaned closer. Reaching inside, her fingers grasped hold of a small glass jar. It rested inside the palm of her hand. Bringing it up to her eyelevel to examine, Izz saw that there was a metal key shape inside the jar rattling around. The jar was sealed with a cork bung. She tried pulling on the stopper, but it would not budge. With the book in her right hand and the jar in her left, she swiped the lantern from the ground between her fingers and went over to the bay underneath the window. Setting the lamp on the edge of the desk, she placed the glass container down beside her and sat on the window seat to examine the book. Its cover, although smooth, bore many wrinkles and flaked at the edges. There was no title, nor writing on the spine. She flicked the book open. Two particular pages parted. An olive-yellow ribbon fed through their centre. The title at the top of the left page read, ‘Deathly Poison’. Izz glanced down the page and noticed a list of ingredients and instructions for creating the concoction. Keeping the page, Izz flicked back and glanced through the pages that came before it. She hummed. All of the pages appeared to contain some kind of mixture and they had all been written in a handwriting that Izz felt she recognised. It was scratchy and some of the letters were stiff, yet most of it was joined. Biting the edge of her lip, she wrinkled her brow as she gazed at it. “Hook,” she gasped, bolting up right. ‘Of course,’ she realised. The handwriting matched the letter that she had read whilst rummaging through the desk, which Captain Hook had written to himself. ‘So this is his work of potions… I didn’t realise he saw himself as an alchemist.’
Izz turned back to the place saved by the bookmark. Dragging her finger down the ingredients list the creases to her brow returned. The recipe and its ingredient were written in code. ‘One drop of black blood from the fang of the creature most feared, one nail clipping stolen on the night of that seven-sea brawl, a hair sample from Throat-Slitter, a tear of mercy, three drops of you-know-whose blood…’ There was not one ingredient which she recognised as the list went on. To the side of the ingredient list, the word ‘fear’ was written in capitals. This handwriting was different from Captain Hook’s. To begin with, the ink was darker and the writer has pressed down a lot harder with their quill. The capital letter ‘a’ was not pointed at the top, but curved and the ‘e’ was not made up of straight edges either. Instead it looked like the letter ‘c’, with a line through the centre. Staring at the word Izz swallowed. “Pitch,” she mouthed. She skimmed through the potions method and found the ‘Known Effects’ section to the bottom of the right page. Tracing her finger along Captain Hook’s words, Izz read, “This poison is my deadliest creation yet, bringing sudden death to all who drink it.” Below there was another sentence added in Pitch Black’s handwriting. “And fear will make sure they die a painful and tortuous death.” Izz shuddered and snapped the book shut. The drum inside of her chest banged and its cymbals crashed. She held a hand to her chest.
The book lay on her lap. She stared at it, her blood pulsing around her arteries. She though back to the Babbling Brook and the poison that Captain Hook had poured into it. She recalled how Peter had commented that the poison in the pirate’s hand was not his own. Then she remembered that Pitch had told them how he had added his own fear to the poison’s recipe. Curling her lips in, Izz pinched her eyes shut. ‘It can’t be,’ she told herself. ‘That’s too cruel, even for them…’ She rubbed her hands up her face and then dragged them back down to her jaw bone. ‘It can’t be…’
A scream pierced through her ears from outside. She jolted upright. Kneeling on the box under the bay, Izz pressed herself against the window. All she could see was the rim of the boat, the thick, dark clouds and the occasional nightmare sweeping by. She stretched her neck up, desperate to see more. Leaning back against the wall she sighed. Her eyes caught a glimpse of the book. She spun herself back around and gabbed it. Placing the front cover on her lap, she opened the back cover. Licking her thumb, she skimmed through the last few pages. Like all of the others, though, these too were recipes with headings at the top, ingredients and a method listed below. After flicking through five pages of potions, the next ten or more were blank. She frowned and flicked back to the five recipes at the book’s rear. Passing an ink blotch that had seeped through from the next page, as she turned to it, she stopped. A heavy hand and a dollop of ink had scribed something underneath the list of Captain Hook’s ingredients and again at the bottom of the method. “Pitch,” she whispered, staring at the scratched lettering. She glanced up at the potion’s title, ‘Deathly Antidote’.
Izz’s page flashed blue. She gasped, arching her head over her shoulder. She leant against the window. Still she could see nothing but clouds and the rim of the boat. There was a shout of panic. Another blue flash. “Jack!” she cried. Turning back to the book, Izz gripped the Deathly Antidote page tight and pulled. The paper tore away from the book’s centre. Leaping to her feet she ran to the door. Two steps away she stopped, bringing her feet together. ‘It’s locked,’ she reminded herself. She gave a sigh and stared down at the antidote in her hands. “Why would Hook even write this?” she asked herself out loud. ‘In case he accidentally poisoned himself…?’ she wondered. ‘Or in case Mr. Smee poisons him,’ she added with a smirk.
Looking up, Izz’s sight was drawn to the small glass jar that she had found inside Captain Hook’s chest along with his recipe book. She went back to the window bay, placed the recipe down and picked up the jar. She held it in front of the lantern’s glow, tilting it to the side. A small chunk of metal clanked around inside the glass prison’s rounded edge. Jerking the jar towards herself the piece of metal lay flat against the glass. The object bore a similar shape to a key. It had a stumpy, slivery-grey stem and a round edged triangular bow with two large holes in it on either side if the stem. However, unlike any key that Izz was familiar with, it had no key-bit to place inside a lock. Her brow puckered as she squinted her eyes at it. Her vision blurred. Her eyes lost focus on the key as they gazed over at the desk. The dim tick-tock-tick-tock that had been present earlier returned to agitate her in her mind, while she tried to concentrate.
Bang. She shuddered. Her head spun back to the window. Still she could see nothing of Neverland. The shouts, screams and possible gunshots that she could hear blurred around in her mind. Pinching her eyes, she shook her head, hoping to throw out all of the unnecessary sounds that her mind had collected. She returned her sight to the jar. Her eyes widened. “It is a key,” she gasped. “A clock key.” The ticking noise returned to her brain. ‘Captain Hook’s ticking device… the bomb to blow up Neverland.’ Her organs spiralled around in a whirlpool as she gripped a hand around her stomach. The bomb. She had to warn the others. Did she have enough time? ‘But what will the key do?’ she wondered, thumping her fingers on her skull. ‘Keys only wind clocks up… so why was Captain Hook hiding it? Keys don’t stop clocks… but what if I could buy us more time…’ Thought after thought threw itself to the front of her brain, as she tugged on the jar’s cork. Scrunching her face up tight, she gave once last pull, clawing her nails around the jar’s edge and end of the bung. With her muscles straining she sighed. “Why won’t you open?” she yelled at the jar. Holding the bung in her right hand, she stood up and swung her arm at the top of the lantern. The jar shattered. The lantern fell. The clock key dropped to the floor.
As Izz bent down to pick up the key, her nose itched. She tried wriggling it. Clasping her fingers around the key, she heard cracking. She bounced up. She threw a hand to her mouth to hide a scream as she leapt back. When the lantern fell down (after Izz smashed the jar off it) one of the lamp’s glass panels shattered too. Oil seeped out across the table. The flame followed it. All of the paper that Izz had placed onto the table after spilling the oil earlier (when she had reached up to grab the lantern from its nail on the ceiling beam), had now set alight. Her legs stiffened. Her heart rammed into her ribcage. She stared as a stack of books began to crumble to black ashes. The flames continued to spread. The brass spyglass glowed bright as the fire submerged it. Smoke drifted up to the ceiling. Her eyes stung. The fire reached the candles. The flames grew larger. Izz shuffled back. There was a spark. Flames shot up in the air, reaching Captain Hook’s sack of tobacco. The sparks landed upon the tapestry at the side of the desk. “No!” Izz squeaked, as she remembered wiping her oil covered hands on it earlier. The thread sizzled, as the flames took hold. Wafting a hand in front of her face, Izz began to cough. Her breathing increased in pace. Her chest grew heavy. Her eyes darted from the fire to the left of the room, back to the fire and then to the right. “The window!” she gasped. She took a step towards it. Her legs froze. She glanced at the fire. Even the desk had now begun to set ablaze. ‘Why is this entire place made of wood?’ her brain screamed. She threw her head over her shoulder and noticed the chair that she had sat in when Pitch began speaking to her. She ran towards it.
She placed the clock key between her teeth and bit down on its bow. Gripping the arms of the chair, she poked its legs out towards the window. She held her breath. Squinting her eyes she charged towards the glass. Leaping forwards, she thrust her arms out in front of her. The chair flung forwards out of her grip. It tore through the sheet of glass. Pieces of the window smashed all around her. Izz threw her arms up to her face and stepped back. The flames grew, catching hold of the desk’s leather chair, Captain Hook’s portrait and the floor.
Seeing the recipe that she had torn from Captain Hook’s alchemy book, Izz grabbed it and leapt out of the window. She landed with a thud on the floor of the ship’s deck. Clambering up, she shot her head around. The deck was empty. She held her hand to her mouth and spat out the key. She ran to the edge of the boat and peered over. Down below she could see a pack of Pitch’s nightmares circling the redskins as they fired arrows from the Never Peak. On the other side of the poisoned waterfall, a gaggle of bodies leapt about on the highest of the evergreen hills. Floating over the poisoned water, two bodies clashed weapons.
Wood cracked. Izz spun her head around to the flaming room behind her. ‘Think,’ she told herself. ‘Think.’ She looked overbaord. She had to be higher off the ground than she would have been if she were stood upon the brink of a forty floor high-rise apartment block. She ran a hand across her face then pinched her nose. Holding onto the rim of the boat, she forced her head over the edge. There was a circle of clear blue below. ‘Water,’ Izz realised, ‘that hasn’t been affected by the poison.’ More wood cracked in the flames behind her. She flinched. Standing back up right, Izz inhaled deep, before exhaling again, as she stared at the clock key and poison antidote recipe in her hand. Gripping the key with her smallest and ring finger, she folded the recipe up as small as she could. She took another look over the side of the boat, before nodding at the contents in her hand. ‘It’s a good job I’ve got strong teeth,’ she thought, as she lowered her tongue and placed the recipe between her molars. She bit down onto it, before opening her mouth to slide the key between her front teeth.
Heaving herself up onto the boat’s rim, Izz ignored the roaring of the fire behind her. With her toes curled over the boat’s edge, she bent her knees and stared at her destination. Her arms trembled she pressed her hands together and held them out in front of her. ‘If I don’t make the water,’ she told herself with a sharp inhale. ‘Then at least… I tried my best.’ Scrunching her face up, she held her breath and pushed her feet off the ship’s edge.

*

Turning her attention from the raging battle, one of the mermaids pointed up into the sky and screamed. The others turned around from leaning on the sandy bay and gasped. As they looked up towards Captain Hook’s ship, floating above their lagoon, a body plunged towards them. They all began shouting and shrieking, splashing their tails about as they panicked, bashing into one another. The body crashed into the water, arms first, in a dive. “Oh my,” gasped one of the mermaids.
“What was that?” another murmured.
 “Is it dead?” cried a third. The mermaids huddled together, staring at the spot where the body had fallen. The water rippled. A dark shape rose to the top of the water.
“Oh no!” whimpered one of the blonde haired girls, and threw her arm around her face, burying her head on the shoulder of a friend. Her brunette friend, with a starfish pressed against the right side of her hair, rubbed a hand to the blonde’s back and sniffed.
Water splashed. An arm emerged from the water. A bob of brown hair shot to the surface. She spat something into her hand, before she began coughing, kicking her legs up behind her.
“It’s alive!” cheered one of the mermaids with a long chestnut-brown fringe, as she nudged one of the others.
“It is!” squealed another, clapping her hands together.
“What is it?” sang out the mermaid with her blonde hair spiralled up on the top of her head. She stretched her neck up, trying to see over the other’s shoulders to the thing that was swimming towards them.
“Why, it’s a girl,” one of them exclaimed.
“Peter’s friend,” shouted the brunette with her hair wrapped in a bun above her right ear.
She crawled up from the water’s edge and onto the sand. Throwing her head back, she lay, staring up at the clouded sky and breathed in and out deeply. She pressed one hand to her chest, the other, gripping the key and a piece of paper, lay at her side. She closed her eyes, her pulse pounding through her body. It thumped in her ears. She gave a groan and lolled her head to the left, as she heard splashing and a murmur of voices. “It is her,” she heard a female voice say.
“Why isn’t she fighting with the others?” asked another.
“Is she hurt?” a third voice called out.
Punching her fists into the sand at her sides, she heaved herself up to sit. She dragged her ankles inwards, bending her knees. She gave a groan, as she stretched her shoulder blades. Her clothes hung from her frame. Her hair drooped against her face. She squeezed her grip around the antidote and the key, as she turned to her new acquaintances. “I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I’m sorry for dropping in on you – literally, but the ship, it’s on fire. I had to get out-”
“What did you say you’re name was again?” asked the red-head with a coronet of shells in her hair.
Frowning at the mermaid’s rude remark and from having her apology ignored, she retorted, “I didn’t.”
“Wh-ell,” gasped the blonde haired mermaid, flicking her hair across her face.
The brunette (with her hair wrapped in a bun over hear right ear), who had told Peter about the direction which the fairies had headed in earlier, swam towards her. “Ignore the others darlin’,” she told her, as she perched herself beside her. “They’re just jealous that you’re a friend a Peter’s is all. Now what’s your name, sugar?”
“Izz,” she replied back with a swallow. “Short for-”
“Isabelle, I’m sure,” said the mermaid nudging her.
“Actually its-” Izz began to correct her.
“Ma name’s Gabriella - I’m kinda the head of the group,” she told her, as she twiddled with the shell that hung from a vine around her neck. “You gave us all a scare there, Izz, fallin’ from the sky. Are you alright?” Breathing in, Izz managed a nod. A few of the other mermaids swam forwards to get a closer look at their intruder.
“Actually,” Izz said, fumbling with the piece of paper in her hand. “I was wondering if you all could help me.”
“Sure thing sweetness,” smiled Gabriella. “What is it?”
Folding out the recipe to the poison’s antidote, Izz explained, “Captain Hook poisoned the waterfall, which has contaminated the water in the whole of Neverland… except here.”
“We know,” one of the mermaids cried.
“Tia and I saw it all,” said one of the blonde mermaids, pointing at herself and a dark haired, tanned girl. “We managed to seal off our water’s connection to the rest of the island.”
“We aren’t like you humans,” said the wavy haired Tia. “We can’t survive out of water.”
“Well,” Izz continued, pleased to have their attention. “I think I’ve found an antidote,” she said holding the recipe out towards the leader of the group. “The problem is, I don’t know what all of the ingredients are. Do you think you could help?”
“Sure thing,” Gabriella replied. “Just tell us what to do.”
The head of the mermaids threw her hands up in the air and called for all of her friends to crowd around herself and Izz. There was a babbling murmur, as the mermaids began to gossip amongst themselves. Gabriella wriggled herself back into the lagoon and gazed over to the top of the Never Peak. As she watched the black, galloping nightmares circle the mountain and wooden arrows shooting across the sky, she gave a shudder, clutching her hands to her upper arms. “Alright girls!” she shouted, turning to her group and placing her arms by her sides. “This here is Izz, she’s a friend of Peter,” she announced. “She might be able to help us save our water, but she needs our help.” The mermaids lowered their voices from their gossiping gaggle to a murmur of whispers, as they began discussing amongst themselves. Several of them looked back to the battle that was taking place at top of the mountain. After receiving a nod from several of her friends, a blonde haired mermaid, who wore a branch of coral woven through her braid, shimmied forwards.
“We can’t sit here and do nothing while the rest of Neverland fights,” the blonde mermaid explained. “We’ll help in any way we can.” Izz beamed. Following the mermaids’ teasing and attempts to drown her earlier, she had no idea that they would be so cooperative now.
“Alright,” said Gabriella as she turned from her mermaids to Izz. “Tell us what to do.”
Holding the torn page between herself and Gabriella, Izz explained to the mermaids how she came to find the recipe and that she was certain that it would create the antidote that the poisoned water needed. “But,” she warned. “I have no idea what the ingredients are.” There were a collection of sighs, a few glares and one of the mermaids splashed a handful of water towards her. “Hey,” Izz scowled. “I have the list,” she insisted. “I just don’t understand what I’m supposed to be looking for,” she explained. Bringing the piece of paper towards herself, Izz ran her finger along the list of ingredients. “Do any of you know what: the tear of the holy one, the liquid of innocence, three leaves of the duck vegetable, a cutting of a mermaid weed, the wart of a stone, one drop of banana blossom oil, the last light of day… and a handful of well-wished, golden dreams are?”
“Sure do!” came a cry, as eyes widened.
“You bet!” squealed another.
“Me too!” shouted a copper haired mermaid as she shot her hand into the air. Eyes wide, hands clasped together. Their excitement burst into many discussions.
As the mermaids began talking over the top of each other, Gabriella held her palms out towards them and shouted, “Alright, alright girls…” Their conversations fizzled down, but many of the mermaids could still be seen whispering to one another. Taking a look at Izz’s list, Gabriella divide the list of ingredients up between the girls, ordering the remaining mermaids to assist the others where necessary or to fetch a large seashell, a grinding rock and an empty jar. While her team splashed off to search for the items Gabriella turned back to Izz. “You’re lucky you came to us, sugar,” she told her, as she perched herself on the sandy back, the fins of her tail still submerged in the lagoon’s water. “For we know all the wonders o’ the ocean.”
“Wonders of the ocean?” Izz repeated, her brow creased.
“Why, this recipe here has been written using the code names for all the minerals and plant life there is in Neverland,” Gabriella explained as she pointed a hand towards the paper that Izz held in her hands. The mermaid held her palm out to Izz. Glancing from the paper to the mermaids palm and back again, Izz sniffed, wiping her dripping hair from her face, before handing the recipe to her new friend. “Now, you see darlin’,” Gabriella began. “The tear of the holy one is the name given to pearls that we find in oyster shells…” Izz’s frown faded, as she gave Gabriella a smile. “See sunshine, it’s not so difficult, is it? Well the liquid of innocence, that’s just the clearest and purest of waters. Three leaves of the duck vegetable will be referring to the plant called duck potato. It usually grows in swampy areas, but has the most beautiful white flower. Then there’s the cutting of a mermaid weed – this one us mermaids find most offensive. A mermaid weed is just a prickly bush that grows underwater. The wart of a stone, again, it’s another plant, stonewort – actually it’s quite similar to mermaid weed. Oh, now one drop of banana blossom oil, honey, you might need to fetch that.”
“But I don’t know what it is,” Izz admitted with a shrug. “Does it have anything to do with bananas?”
“No dear,” said Gabriella with a giggle. “Ever heard of the ylang-ylang plant?” Izz shook her head. “Well, it’s a flower, but its petals look like a peeled banana. It grows just on the outskirts of the Neverwood. It’s not far, but you’ll have to go pick one – just the flower, we’ll take care of the oil.”
“Okay,” Izz said with a nod. “But what about the rest? What’s the last light of day or a handful of well-wished, golden dreams?”
“The last light a day’s something the Light fairies collect at the end a each day,” Gabriella explained. “I’m sure one a the girls has some store somewhere… as f’ the last one, I’ll show ya when you get back.”
Izz got Gabriella to point her in a more specific location of where she were to find the banana looking flower, before making her way into the Neverwood. With all of the mermaids but one gone and having left the antidote recipe in Gabriella’s possession, Izz began to wonder whether she had done the right thing. ‘But they want to save Neverland too,’ she argued with herself, as she stepped through an opening amongst the trees. ‘Remember earlier,’ she warned herself. ‘They’re all for messing about and playing tricks… I bet the ingredients don’t even exist. She probably just made it all up to get rid of me.’ Crunching a pine cone beneath her feet, Izz looked down, then shot her head up towards the trees. She nodded at the trees, before taking a sharp left. ‘Why am I still doing this? To save Neverland of course,’ she fought with herself. Pressing a thumb to her temple and arching her hand over her brow she squinted ahead at a cluster of trees, all bearing a yellow flower. She let out a breath and stepped nearer. ‘Maybe she was right…’ Izz thought, as she scooped one of the flowers into her hand. Holding the bulk of the flower’s centre, its stringy petals flopped by its sides. They lay crinkled and were beginning to turn brown at the end. “Just like a banana skin,” Izz said aloud, smirking. Cupping both hands around the flower, Izz felt for its stem and plucked it from the tree. There was a flash of blue. She gasped, flinching. She held the flower close to her chest as she turned in the direction where she knew that the fight to save Neverland was taking place.

*

Another blue flash exploded from Jack’s staff. Frost shot towards Pitch. He twitched his arm. A black arch swooped in front of him. Black sand shot forwards, colliding with the flickers of frost. A white glow grew. It blinded them. Crash. Pitch’s nightmare sand and Jack’s frost merged together. A jagged, crystal statue of deep, metallic blue hurtled towards the poison below. Both Jack and Pitch flew higher into the air. The crystal splashed. Poison flooded into the air, splattering on the flowered meadow, the mountain rock and the evergreen hills. It hissed, sucking the life out of anything breathing that it touched. The flowers shrivelled. Trees turned to charcoal.
Jack’s mouth froze open as he stared at the damage that the poison has caused. More than half of the pastel flowered meadow was submerged in black. The sand that lined the bay had been turned into Pitch’s deep violaceous-black nightmare powder. Jack turned to the mountain edge where the brook and waterfall splashed upon. It too was charcoal stained. Many of the trees on the hillside and surrounding the Neverwood had lost their leaves. Shaking in the howling wind, they were nothing more than sticks in the ground.
Pitch flung himself in Jack’s direction, striking while the boy gazed at the destruction around him. Jack gave a shout, swinging his staff up in defence. Cackling, Pitch swung his scythe, pounding it against Jack’s staff. Ducking and dodging out of the way, Jack’s chest heaved. His breathing grew heavy. He flew up higher. Pitch followed. Taking a swipe at the Boogeyman’s left shoulder, Jack turned into a dive. “Oh, give up, Jack.” Pitch sighed, as he chased after him.
Landing on the ledge to the left of the waterfall, Jack shouted back, “Never. You can’t win Pitch.”
“Maybe not on my own,” his nemesis replied as he landed beside him. “But with the aid of a few friends,” he said holding a hand out towards his nightmares hounding the redskins at the top of the Never Peak, the poisoned water gushing from the mouth of the waterfall and the pack of pirates plunging their swords into the Lost Boys. “I’m afraid this time… I win.”
“The only thing you’re likely to win is a first class ticket back to the hole you crawled out of,” Jack snarled, bouncing on his toes, his staff slanted across his body.
“Oh, my, my, did you come up with that one yourself?” asked Pitch pouting. “Don’t strain your brain too hard Jack, you don’t have much up there as it is.” Scrunching his face up, Jack growled as he ran at him. Throwing his arms up, Jack made a strike at Pitch. Pitch slashed his sanded scythe back in reflex. Their weapons clashed. Pitch drew his arms back. He raised his hands over his head, before lashing down. The veins of Jack’s hands bulged, as he forced his staff up in defence. His biceps trembled under Pitch’s pressure. “Give up Jack,” Pitch snarled down at him. “It’s my time to shine.”

*

Metal clashed. They growled, weapons scraping against one another. The basket-hilted rapier withdrew. The dagger it had been pressured against fell forwards. The sword swung out, slashing at its opponent. The dagger swiped back. Their metals clanged. The resonant ringing chimed in their ears, as it bounced off the rocked walls. “Give up Hook,” the boy laughed.
“Never,” growled the pirate captain, swinging his sword once more. The blade scraped against the wall. Pieces of rock crumbled to dust at their feet. “Don’t you see, Pan?” his roaring voice echoing through the cave. “You can’t win this battle. The water is poisoned, Pitch is finishing of your little friend and the Stone will soon be mine.” A smile beamed across his face. Wavering his rapier out in front of him, the pirate took a step back, nearing his desired destination.
With his right hand behind his back, Peter swallowed. He prodded his dagger forwards. “You know,” he said in a conversational tone. “It’s not fair to always fight with your left. It makes my wrist tired. Can we swap hands?” asked Peter, bringing his right hand out to his side and shrugging his shoulder. The pirate’s nose creased. His teeth clenched. His bushed brows daggered down. A growling in his throat erupted spit through the cracks in his teeth.
“Pan!” he yelled, swiping his sword at the boy. Peter leapt back, towards the cave’s opening.
“You can’t catch me, Captain!” Peter sang, as he kicked his feet off the ground and glided backwards.
“Why you…” Captain Hook cursed. Stomping his feet, he chased after him.

*

Sitting back on the sand at the side of the lagoon, Izz’s eyebrows rose and her eyes looked up. “Keep your head still,” one of the mermaids told her, as another fiddled with her hair. Upon Izz’s return from the Neverwood with the ylang-ylang plant, the head mermaid, Gabriella, had swiped it from her and given it to another of the mermaids. While Izz sat and had her hair tugged at, Gabriella and blonde mermaid with coral entwined through her braid, sat on a rock with a giant creamy-white clam shell upturned, resting on the rock between them. The blonde mermaid had a rock in her hands and Izz had watched her crush the oyster pearl into the shell with it. Then, she poured in a small upturned shell of clear liquid. Gabriella began stirring the mixture with stick, while the other ground the various leaves, which the mermaids gave her, into the rock with the stone.
Izz’s vision became blocked as one of the mermaids that was tending to her hair, appeared in front of her. “Wow,” she gasped. “I love you’re bracelet.”
“Let me see,” moaned the other. Bending her head over Izz’s shoulder she squealed, “Ooow, that’s beautiful.”
“Thanks,” Izz said with a blush, pinching in her lips. “Jack made it for me.”
“Ooow,” the both sang together.
“Isn’t he the guy with icy white hair?” asked the brunette leaning over her front.
“Uh hum,” Izz replied, shifting her eyes up, trying not to move her head.
“Oh, honey, he’s gorgeous,” sighed the blonde girl tugging at her hair from behind. “Don’t you think so?” she asked her friend.
“He’s so cute,” the brunette cooed. The both gave a dreamy sigh.
“Okay, we’re finished,” the blonde sang.
“Take a look,” said her brunette friend, handing Izz a rounded, ivory mirror. Taking the mirror, Izz peered inside. The reflection staring back at her had its hair parted and combed back to the mirror’s right-hand side. A collection of ribbed ark shells and yellow prickly cockles gripped her hair back from her face. A large ark shell sat near the top of her scalp and a pattern of cockles and other ark shells grew smaller as they arched around her head to her ear.
“Wow,” Izz gasped, prodding a finger to the girls’ handy work. “It’s beautiful... thank you...”
“You’re welcome,” the girls chimed together.
Hearing splashing coming towards them, the two hair stylists turned around to see Gabriella swimming in their direction. “Nice,” she said as she admired the shells in Izz’s hair.
“Thanks,” the girls sang.
“Izz,” Gabriella said. “We need your help with the last ingredient.” The two mermaids, who had decorated Izz’s hair, swam back to the rest of their group, who had now gathered around their blonde friend on the rock, who was creating the poison’s antidote.
“My help?” Izz murmured with a frown. The mermaid nodded.
“We were a little unsure how we could make a handful of well-wished, golden dreams, but then Tia an’ Lottie said they saw you with the fairies at the Babbling Brook earlier,” Gabriella said, as she pointed out a dark wavy haired, tanned mermaid and her blonde haired friend.
“Only Tinker Bell,” Izz corrected, raising her voice.
“Yes, but…” the head mermaid turned from the others, back to Izz. A smile stretched across her face, as she took Izz’s right hand in hers. “We all felt somethin’ magical about you when Peter first brought you to see us. An’ he doesn’t take likin’ to just any ol’ girl, you know. That’s why we decided that you should create the last ingredient.” Gabriella giggled, as she watched Izz’s eyes widen and her lips part.
“B, b, but,” Izz began to stutter.
“Don’t worry, sugar,” Gabriella told her, sliding her hand out from Izz’s and stroking a hand down her new friend’s cheek. “You’ll do fine, I’m sure of it.” As the mermaid winked at her, Izz smiled back. “Now wait here, I’ll be right back.”
 Izz watched as Gabriella dove her head into the water, her tail splashing up behind her. Hiding from the splash, Izz threw a hand to her face. Wriggling through the water, the mermaid’s head popped up as she reached the rock, where the others had gathered. Their talks were mere murmurs from the shore. Izz felt her cheek burn, as Gabriella pointed towards her and all of the mermaids’ heads turned to face her. She pressed her fingers to her cheeks. The clock key, curled under her thumb, prodded the surface of her skin. She lowered her hands from her face, as she saw Gabriella swim back towards her.
The water rippled. It swept up against the edges of her pyjama trousers, soaking them even more. Izz watched as the crystallised blue became blurred with a wave of brown hair and shimmering turquoise scales. Water splattered, as Gabriella’s head emerged. She dragged a hand over her head, flipping back stray pieces of hair, before shaking her head. Droplets of water flung out, as her hair splattered from left to right. Izz threw a hand to her face. “Sorry, darlin’,” Gabriella said, as she finished shaking her head. “I shoulda warned ya first.” Not knowing what to say, Izz forced a smile and shrugged. “So here you are, sugar,” said the mermaid, handing Izz a small velvety, purple bag with a golden coloured ribbon. Despite being carried through the water, it was crisp and dry. Izz rubbed her thumb over the pouches surfaces, as it sat in the centre of her palm. She sighed under its soft touch. “Well don’t just stare at it,” giggled Gabriella. “Open it.”
Izz looked up at the mermaid and smiled, before pulling on the top of the pouch’s opening. The scrunched up material at the top smoothed out, as Izz stuck her thumbs into the gap at the top and tugged. Bringing it up to her face, Izz peered inside. The bag was full of glowing, golden glitter. She gasped and looked up at Gabriella. “What is it?” she asked.
“Pixie dust,” said the mermaid. “Now, I need you to grab a handful of sand, then sprinkle a dusting of pixie dust over the top,” Gabriella told her.
“Right,” Izz replied with a nod. She set the velvet pouch down beside her and placed the clock key next to it. Then, she stretched back and brushed her hand against some dry sand behind her. She clawed her nails and scooped some sand up into her hand.
“Not too much,” Gabriella warned, as Izz turned her hand around and brought the sand towards herself. Looking from her hand to Gabriella, then back to the sand, Izz shimmied her hand to the side, shaking away some of the sand. “Much better,” said Gabriella with a nod. “Now… just a pinch of pixie dust…” she said as Izz poked her thumb and forefinger inside the pouch. Feeling the grains press between her finger tips, Izz pulled them out of the bag. Placing her pinched fingers over the sand in her palm, she sprinkled the glowing gift from the fairies over the top. “Now,” Gabriella said. “Close your fist tight around the sand.” Izz nodded and curled her fingers around her palm, placing her thumb on top. “Good… now I need you to say the words: ‘I believe’.”
“I believe,” Izz repeated.
“Not like that,” scoffed one of the mermaids that was watching from the rock.
“You have to really believe it, darlin’,” Gabriella told her. “Real deep… from your heart.”
Taking in a breath through her nose, Izz closed her eyes. She gripped the sand tight in her left hand and allowed her mind to travel. Exhaling, she thought of her flight with Jack and Peter to Neverland. Her first view of the island. The sparkle from the clearest blues of the Babbling Brook and the tingle she felt on her cheek when Tinker Bell kissed it. She took in another breath. “I believe,” she said.
“Louder!” the mermaids shouted in chorus.
“I believe!” Izz projected, pinching her eyes together tight. Her hand tingled. She heard the mermaids gasp. Opening her eyes, Gabriella’s laughing face was a nose away from her own.
Gripping Izz’s shoulder Gabriella cheered, “You did it, sweetie, you did it.” Izz let out a nervous laugh, before glancing down at her hand. A glow emerged from it. Her digits recoiled, slow. She gasped, at the gleaming, golden sand in her hand.
Gabriella ordered one of the other mermaids to swim over with a large shell. Once she arrived, Izz poured the glowing sand inside the arch of the upturned seashell. Between them, two mermaids wriggled across the water to the rock, keeping the shell high above the water. Izz watched as her magical sand was added to the mixture. The mermaid who was placed in charge of the potion held the shell containing the cup of sand over her own shell bowl and shimmied the sand in slow, stirring the mixture with a stick all the while. Some of the watching mermaids added in an ‘Ooow’ and an ‘Aaarh’ for dramatic effect, but from where Izz was sitting, the concoction of materials appeared no different.
As the mixture was poured into a glass jar, Izz clambered to her feet. She stretched her neck up, trying to catch a glimpse of the potion, as all of the mermaids began crowding around the girl who had created it. As the jar swung around into view Izz gazed at it. Her eyes widened as a golden glow swished around the jar. Having forced a cork into the neck of the bottle, the mermaid now shook the jar up and down. After she finished shaking it, the mermaid held her arm up in the air, showing off the bottle for all to see. Clapping and cheering, the girls squealed with excitement.
The blonde haired mermaid who had mixed together the ingredients swam over to Izz. The others followed close behind her. Reaching Izz, the mermaid shook the hair from her face and held the glass jar out in front of her. Izz stared at it. “Here, take it” said the mermaid. Izz reached out and took the bottle. It slid into her palm. She wrapped her fingers tight around it. “The antidote should work fine, but I’m afraid I’ve only been able to make a small amount.”
“Don’t worry,” Izz told her smiling. “What you just did was amazing. This’ll be fine.”
“But you don’t understand,” she cried, lowering her head. “Antidotes don’t work like poisons,” she told her, holding the recipe page out for Izz to take. “You only need a drop of poison to do heaps of damage, but you need ten times more of an antidote to make even the slightest of differences.” Izz smile faded, as she stared ahead at the mermaid’s furrowed brow.
“We can try, can’t we?” asked Izz. The mermaid lifted her head. Her mouth arched down at the corners, her eyes wide, her eyebrows angled up. She poked the piece of paper further towards Izz. Izz shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “You keep it.”
“There is a way,” she said, as she took back the recipe. “That might work.” She lowered her head again and raised her shoulders.
“What is it?” Izz gasped.
“It’s dangerous…”
“I’ll try anything,” Izz told her. “Just tell me.” The mermaid gave a nod and edged forwards. She curled a finger towards herself, luring Izz near. Izz leant forwards, her ear beside the mermaid’s mouth.
“The heart of Neverland,” she whispered. “You must pour the antidote into its pool.” Izz turned her face towards her. Her brow puckered. “This pool is linked to all of the water in Neverland,” the mermaid continued. “It harvests special, magical healing qualities that keep all us here young and healthy. It seals cuts, mends broken bones and cures the sick. Once you pour the antidote into the heart… you may have purified the water for the entire island.” Izz’s eyes widened as she stared at her. All of the surrounding mermaids appeared shocked too by the alchemist’s knowledge. “Climb to the mouth of the waterfall,” the mermaid told her. “You can slip around the water and into the cave. There’s a real steep drop down… but if you make it, you should find yourself at the core.”
“But what about the other entrance, behind the waterfall?” asked Izz. “Wouldn’t that be easier?”
“The fairies’ll be guarding it,” she told her. “But how do you know about it?” she asked with a puckered brow. “They don’t let anybody near it – including Peter.” Izz forced a smile and shrugged. The mermaid shook her head, pushing aside Izz’s mysterious knowledge and continued, “You’ll have to be on your guard once you get down there.” Hearing that, Izz swallowed. “You’ll be less conspicuous that way too. Hook’ll never suspect a thing.”
With the bottle of Deathly Antidote in one hand and the clock key in her other, Izz stared ahead at the group of mermaids. Some gazed down into the water, other whispered between themselves, while the rest stared back at her. Izz felt her intestines knot. She turned towards the Never Peak. Pitch’s nightmares still raced around it. Arrows sprang out towards them. Izz shook her head, thinking that she saw a wisp of golden, glowing light. She turned her attention back to the mermaids. “Okay,” she told them. “I’m ready.” She nodded towards the blonde mermaid, then towards Gabriella. “Which way should I go?”
“There’s a tunnel over there, honey” Gabriella said pointing to the farthest point of the lagoon. “If you swim through it you’ll come out in a teeny pool the other side of the Babbling Brook.”
“It’s the only water portal that’s closed off from the waterfall. Its water should still be safe,” the alchemist mermaid told her. “Its flow of water comes directly from our own.” Izz nodded.
“It’s a long swim for a human,” Gabriella warned her, placing a hand on Izz’s shoulder. “You’ll have to hold your breath over a good couple of minutes.”
“I’ll be fine,” Izz told them with a smile. She felt her heart thump inside her chest. She swallowed her worry. ‘I have to be brave,’ she told herself. “I have to be.”
The mermaids swam with Izz to the other side of the lagoon. Gripping the bottle and key in her hand, her arms wafted over the surface of the water. “Now good luck sweetness,” said Gabriella, as she gave Izz a hug. “You can do it.” Izz’s brow shot up.
“Aren’t you coming with me?” she cried.
“The tunnel’s too small for two,” Gabriella told her. Izz’s bottom lip trembled at the thought of being on her own again. “Don’t worry darlin’, you’ll be fine. I know you will.” Staring at her, Izz swallowed.
“Good luck!” shouted one of the mermaids.
“Yeah!” called another. “Good luck!” Izz turned to the group of girls and waved, thanking them for their help with the potion and for decorating her hair with shells. She turned to Gabriella and nodded. She nodded back. Wavering her legs around below her, Izz turned towards the tunnel. She took a deep breath and placed the clock key back between her teeth. Stretching her neck up, she pinched her eyes shut and dived her head down.
Kicking her legs behind her, Izz threw her arms over her shoulders. Water gushed past her, as she swam forwards. Opening her eyes, her vision blurred. She blinked several times. The wall before her came into focus. ‘There it is,’ she told herself, as she saw the hole in the rock. ‘The tunnel.’ Dipping her shoulders, she pushed her head down and kicked out her legs. Reaching the tunnel, she held onto the top of its entrance as she peered inside. It was narrow. Very narrow. She could just squeeze through, but there would be no room to waft her arms. Pressing her arms against her sides, she pushed her head through the opening and paddled her legs.
The tunnel was slimed in a mossy type of seaweed. Her brow wrinkled and her spine shuddered, as she pressed her fingers down against it to help push herself along. ‘I can do this,’ she told herself. ‘I can do this… I can do this.’ She repeated it over and over, as she kicked her way down the tunnel. Her legs ached at their monotonous back and forth paddling. They grew heavy. Her head lowered. Light shone ahead. She could see the tunnel’s end. Her eyes widened. She kicked harder. She flicked her wrists faster against the tunnel’s mossy surface.
A wall appeared in front of her. Her throat gave a murmured scream. Bubbles gurgled around her nose. She clasped a hand to her face. Her chest tightened. She squeezed in her stomach. She threw her head up. There was light above her. The tunnel bent at a right angle and shot straight up. Bending her knees, she pushed herself up from the rocked edge. The harder she kicked her legs, the wider the passage in front of her became. She flung her arms over her head, reaching out for the rim of the pool. She was still too far away. ‘Just… a… little… more,’ she told herself. Her eyes pinched shut. She strained her arms forwards. Her heart banged at her ribs. She felt as though a belt were pulling tighter and tighter into her stomach. Her throat groaned again. Bubbles spurted out from the centre of her lips. The kicks of her legs grew weaker. Her right arm flung up over her head. Her wrist grew cold. It hit a solid, rimmed surface. She threw her left arm up. Her elbow hooked over the edge. She dug her other elbow into the ground and hauled herself up. Water poured out of the pool around her, as she heaved her stomach onto solid land. She spat out the key in front of her and lay on her front gasping. She pinched her eyes shut. Her chest pounded. As fast as she exhaled, she seeped in another breath. She let the glass bottle roll out from her fingertips.
A bell rang in her ear. It swept past her. “Sparky…?” she murmured with a frown. The bells continued to ring, as she heard a trotting accompany it. Jabbing her knuckles into the ground, she lifted her head up and squinted open her eyes. A huge, wooden red and gold painted chair appeared in front of her. It had two narrow, ski-like strips underneath it on either side. Izz followed the front of the chair around to the right. She gasped. Nine, huge, antlered animals were stood in front of her. Her mouth lay open as she stared. Her head moved back to the left, as she returned her sight to the giant chair. “Need a lift?” asked a deep, male voice. Izz gasped again. Grabbing her fingers out towards the glass bottle and the clock key, she shot her head up to the man speaking. A large hand held out towards her. Her eyes widened and her bottom lip dropped as she stared up at him. Tattooed across his arm lay the word ‘Naughty’. A tuft of dark brown fur hugged his elbow, where the edge of his big, red coat came. His chest lay covered with a mass of white beard. His piecing blue eyes widened, as he stared down at her. “Come on, come on,” he insisted, reaching out for her hand. “You’ll catch chill.” Uttering various sounds, but forming no words, Izz lifted a hand and placed it in his. He pulled her up and into his sleigh.
“Santa?” she gasped at last, as she sat down beside him.
“You can call me North,” he told her. “Now how can I help?”
“Can you take me to the mouth of the waterfall?” she asked, hiding her head against her shoulder.
“Sure thing,” he said and lashed at the reins. Izz spun her head around to the reindeer, who gave a whimpering cry, before throwing their front legs up and leaping into the air.
As they soared through the sky, Izz leaned over the edge of North’s sleigh. The water in Babbling Brook below them lashed up against the mountain. Its purple-black waters draining the life from the ivy vines and blossoms that trailed up it. To her right, a ramble of bodies ran about. Swords swung, hammers bashed and stones were thrown, as the Lost Boys tried to fend themselves from Captain Hook’s devilish crew. To her right Jack threw his staff against Pitch’s scythe. Throwing all of his weight against it, Jack brought strain to his foe’s face. Pitch seeped a breath through gritted teeth, as he attempted to push his weapon up. Whizzing her head back around to her right, as they flew past the waterfall, Izz saw Captain Hook clashing swords with Peter. At the entrance to the cave, Peter was hovering in the air, jabbing his dagger at the pirate.
North snapped his wrists and the sleigh flew higher. As they approached the Never Peak a herd of Pitch’s nightmares raced around them. “Take the reins,” North shouted, as he threw them to Izz. Leaping to his feet North swiped two swords from his belt and swung them at the approaching onyxes. Grabbing the reins, Izz gave a yelp, as she flicked her wrists and the reindeer sped forwards. She flung back. Her heart hammered inside her. “Not so much spin,” North yelled to her, as he threw his elbow on the back of his seat, trying to keep his balance.
“Sorry,” she cried back. Her fingers locked around the reins. She tilted them to her right. The reindeer galloped in her chosen direction. She let out a breath, brushing a hand to her forehead. A spinning turquoise blur shot from left to right. Izz gasped, following it with her head.
“Eyes on the reindeer!” North yelled, pointing his sword towards the mountain in front of them. Izz gasped and yanked on the reins. The reindeer slowed. She tugged the reins around to her far right. The reindeer arched their heads left and trotted away from the rock face. “You’re getting the hang of this, no?” asked North, as Izz spun the sleigh around. She shrugged in reply, although she knew that he could not see her, for he was again, engaged in battle. The bluey-green blur spun back, slicing into the sides of two of the nightmares. Izz gasped as the horses crumbled to sand. The blue blur stopped spinning and set itself down on the edge of the sleigh. “Thanks Tooth,” said North.
“Welcome,” she panted back in reply. Izz gave a gasp, as she stared at the turquoise feathered human-hummingbird. “Hi,” Tooth smiled as she waved to Izz. “North, who’s your friend?” she asked.
“Who?” asked North, checking over his shoulders for more of Pitch’s creatures. He turned to Tooth, seeing her nod her head towards Izz. “Arh,” he said. “This is… oh,” he muttered and sat himself back down. “What is your name?”
“I’m Izz,” she said.
“Oh, you’re Jack and Peter’s friend,” Tooth said, as North took the reins back from Izz. He gave a harsh snap and the reindeer looped around back towards the mouth if the waterfall.
Izz nodded and Tooth, before asking, “Are you all here? All the guardians?” feeling her pulse race in her chest
“Uh huh,” Tooth replied with a nod. “Sandy warned us about Pitch and North brought us here on his sleigh to help.”
“We’re here,” North sang as he pulled up alongside the waterfall. Izz mouth formed into an ‘o’ as she stared at both of the guardians at her side. North held a hand out in front of her, gesturing to the waterfall on her right.
“Thanks,” she said, as she grabbed the bottle and key from her side. Arching her head over her right shoulder, she stood up a sucked in a deep breath.
“Be careful around the poison,” North told her. “It’s deadly stuff.” She turned back to him and nodded.
Stepping a foot onto the edge of the sleigh, Izz placed the bottle and key in her left hand and reached out for the side of the cave opening with her right. As she grabbed it, she stretched a foot across, curling it inside the edge of the cave. A huge pile of rocks built up on either side of the water, preventing it from spilling to the sides of the opening. ‘If I can just climb up,’ Izz told herself. ‘I should be able to slide down the back of the cave, just like the mermaid said.’ Throwing her left hand forwards, Izz leaned against the edge of the mountain, as she lifted her left foot from the sleigh. “Look!” she heard Tooth gasp. “Sandy’s in trouble!”
“Aye!” North replied. Her turned to Izz and said, “Good luck, kid,” before whipping his reindeer with the reins and zooming off.
Leaping inside the cave, Izz pressed her back against the wall. She stared at the water as it gushed with a purple glow. She swallowed. Her heart rapped against her ribs. It pulsed in her ears, trying to drown out the roaring of the water. Shimmying along the cave’s edge, Izz’s forehead creased. Her eyes narrowed. Following the stream of water with her eyes, she watched it pour down the mountain edge. Before that, the water washed through the centre of the rock piles on either side of the cave. Where Izz now stood, however, the water did not pour from an opening higher up in the cave, like she had expected it to. Instead, it appeared to roll up from somewhere below. Splashing up into the steam, water billowed up from inside the rocks. Izz continued shuffling past it.
Her left foot kicked something. She gasped. It clattered against the ground, before its sound disappeared. Rocks crumbled underfoot. She stopped, turning her gaze from the waterfall that was now some distance to her right, to the drop that she now faced to her left. She swallowed hearing a whoosh, followed by a thumping crash, as the object that she kicked and the pieces of rock dropped to the ground some distance below. She peered over the edge. There was a very light bluey-purple glow some way down. The colour almost reminded Izz of a cluster of periwinkles. Standing up straight, she gripped the glass jar and key tight in her hands and scrunched up her face. “Here goes everything,” she mumbled to herself and leapt from the rocky edge.
She hit the ground. The bottle and key skidded out of her hand. Lying on her left side, the fingers on her hand began to twitch. Warmth swept across her face. Her eyes flickered. Ticking sounded some way in the distance. Brushing her left hand under her head, Izz groaned, as she hoisted herself up with her right. She ran her hand down the side of her face and pinched at her collar bone. She felt the warm air blow against her again. It tingled upon her skin, prickling at her hairs. Shuffling into a sitting position she squinted her eyes open, as a frown formed on her forehead. ‘That’s funny,’ she thought. ‘It doesn’t hurt anymore.’ She clawed her hand through her hair as she felt around for the glass bottle and the clock key. Dragging them to her side, she lifted her head up. She gasped, holding a hand to her mouth. Before her, lay a round-edged square-shaped pool of glowing bluey-purple liquid. Its length stretched no longer than her arm. Surrounding the pool was a boarder of jagged deep greige coloured rocks, each with chips of dark mazarine, a redy-vermilion and lovat coloured crystals. They sparkled in the light of the pool’s glowing water.
Izz pushed herself up onto her knees and shuffled closer. Ripples of water bobbed up and down, dragged by an unidentifiable current. Sparkles of deep blue danced across the water. Leaning over the pool, Izz gazed. Heat wafted up from it, warming her face and drying her hair. Water splashed against the rocks. She leapt back, her hand gripped tight around the bottle. She brought it up to her face. “The Deathly Antidote,” she whispered, as she popped the cork out of the bottle’s neck. Stretching her arms out, she held the bottle over the pool. Squinting her eyes, she tilted her wrist to the left. “Please work,” she squeaked, as the golden glow slid towards the tip of the tube. A drop trickled from the bottle and splashed into the pool. Izz snapped her eyes shut and jerked her wrist further to the left, tipping the bottle upside down. She felt the weight drain from her hand, as the liquid fled from the bottle and into the pool.
It hissed. She pulled her arm back to her side and pierced her eyes back open. She gave a sharp sniff as the pool began to bubble. The air turned damp and salty. The water began lathering. She pressed her hands into her chest and sniffed again. The air had changed. Its scent became sweet and florally, reminding Izz of apples, raspberries and a bouquet of daisies. She closed her eyes and inhaled the aroma. The sizzling ceased. Hearing bubbles pop, Izz opened her eyes again and peered at the pool. Her eyes widened. Her eyebrows arched high. The frothing had vanished. A few bubbles resided on the pool’s surface. The colour of the water had changed. It was now a turquoise blue and crystal clear. Metallic blue sparkles swirled around it.
Holding a hand to her mouth Izz gave a laugh. ‘It worked,’ she beamed. ‘I’ve done it.’ Dropping her hand to her side, her ears pricked up. The ticking sound that registered in her brain when she first fell enhanced. She spun her head around the room. The cave walls were a greyed-beige in the dim light room. There was an opening in the wall to her right. A cream-white glow shone from it. Pushing herself up from the ground, Izz walked towards it. He foot clonked against something on the ground. Gritting her teeth, she seeped a breath. Bending her knee, she brought her foot up towards her waist and pinched her toes, whilst hopping on her other foot. Returning her foot to the ground, she looked down at what she had stubbed it on. She gazed down at a black, rectangular box shape with a double bell, brass, analogue alarm clock in the centre. She dropped down beside it. The sound of its ticking increased. Looking at it close up, the black box in which the clock was sat was in fact not a box at all. Four rows of thin, black cylinders lined the sides of the clock. Above and beneath the ticking device were smaller black cylinders, all attached together with a silvery, metal, coiled wire. Staring at it, Izz swallowed. The sweeping second hand ticked up past the eight and towards nine. The short, stumpy hour hand and its thinner alarm-setting partner both pointed up at twelve. The minute hand was one jerk away from joining them. Grabbing the device, Izz flung it around and jabbed the clock key into the hole in the back of the wind up clock. It slotted in. Jerking her wrist right, Izz wound the key on. She repeated the action, jerking her wrist again and again. She angled the clock face towards her. The minute hand wound back one marking on the clocks sixty minutes.
As Izz continued winding, the key froze. “No!” she cried, straining her wrist to keep twisting. “You can’t stop. We need more time.” She took the key out and tried again. Her breathing increased in pace. Her fingers fumbled. She twisted the key again. It cranked forwards a millimetre. The minute hand jerked a hairline back towards eleven again, having edged forward a smidge. She pressed the key harder into the clock’s mechanism. “Please,” she sobbed at the clock, her arms trembling. “Please…”
Light flicked ahead of her. She flinched, her head shooting up to the opening in front of her. Over a dozen fluttering lights flew towards her. Gasping, Izz leapt back as they shot towards her. Jingling in her face, a fairy, dressed in a long flowing golden dress, made from flower petals, began waving a dainty fist in her face. The fairy’s expression scrunched up and her face turned red. Other fairies, of blues, greens and reds zoomed around her head. Izz snapped her eyes shut as a tiny fist thumped her near the eye. “Hey!” she shouted, throwing a hand up to her face. Her hair was tugged. Her clothes were pulled. Her face was pinched. All the while their jingling bells rang out around her head. “Stop!” she cried. “Please. I was only trying to help.”
A bell rang out loud and fierce above the rest. All of the other bell sounds ceased. The prodding, pinching and poking stopped. Having held herself stiff, Izz relaxed her shoulders and squinted open her eyes. All of the fairies that had charged towards her now showed her their backs, as they faced the pool. The tinkling bell hovered over the crystal clear pool of blue and pointed a finger down at it and then towards Izz. The fairy flew towards her and stroked Izz’s nose. “Tinker Bell,” Izz whispered back. The blonde fairy smiled at her, before turning to her fellow pixies. She bobbed up and down, jingling all the while as she conversed with the others. Izz’s stomach spiralled as she watched the little Pots and Kettles fairy point from the pool of water, to the entrance to their right in the cave wall, to the glass jar that Izz had left on the ground, before pointing a finger back at Izz. Izz held in her breath, hoping that the fairy was explaining to the others that it was she who had poured a poison’s antidote into the pool and that she was not the one planting the bomb.
After Tinker Bell had finished her speech the golden fairy pointed down to the clock-bomb on the ground. Tinker Bell’s head spun around to it, before looking up at Izz. “I was trying to wind it on,” Izz told them, shrugging. “I was trying to buy us more time, but the key won’t turn anymore.” Tinker Bell turned back to the golden fairy and jingled away again in the fairy language. As the gold fairy replied, she bowed her head towards Izz. Izz’s eyes widened. The fairy fluttered towards her and hand her hand out. Izz glanced from the golden dressed fairy to Tinker Bell, who nodded at her. Izz held up and finger and placed it in the fairies hand. She gasped, noticing a crown sat on top of the fairy’s head of curls. “Queen Clarion,” she breathed.

*

Thunder rumbled once more. Pitch’s nightmares gave a whining sneer. Wind gusted as they ran by. Having fired all of their arrows, the redskins had begun slicing wood from nearby trees. However their weapon making process was not fast enough. Nightmares raged towards the redskins’ camp, knocking down tents, scaring the natives’ horses and setting anything flammable aflame with the steam that snorted from their snouts.
Tooth was growing tired from throwing herself at the black sanded creatures. She joined North in his sleigh. They rode through the sky, scooping up arrows that had been fired and returning them to the redskins, ramming the sleigh into herd of daemon onyxes and snuck up on gangs of pirates causing them to flee. Tooth even took control of the sleigh for a while, as North bashed blades with a band of buccaneers.

*

Running around with swords drawn over their heads and piercing war cries escaping from their mouths, the pirates continued to emerge. Full of life and energy they chased the Lost Boys around the evergreen hilltop. Nibs crept about through the bushes and long grasses. Being short, and wearing the skin of a rabbit, he blended into the background. Waiting at the edge of a bush with his hands raised, as soon as a pair of feet came into view, he swung his hammer down, smashing it into the intruder’s toes. Falling back, a pirate crashed into another. He lay rolling on the floor, gripping the pain in his feet. Nibs darted back into the bushes before the buccaneers could spot him.
Hiding high up in the trees, the twins hung upside down, with their slingshots in their hands. A pile of stones lay on the branch where their knees hung and on the branch below them. With their left hands gripped around the ‘y’ shaped twig, they stretched their arms out. Winking their left eyes closed, they pulled the elastic of their slingshots back, with stones at their fingertips. As a gang of five pirates trudged by, one of the twins yelled, “Ready?”
“Aim,” ordered the other.
“Fire!” they shouted together as they let go of their stones. The rocks flung down towards their targets. One hit a pirate on the head. He stumbled back, crashing into the man behind him, as he yelped, gripping his bleeding scalp. The other pebble pounded a pirate in the eye. The twin punched his fist in the air, having now lunged stones into the eyes of two pirates. Falling back, the buccaneer howled out in pain, throwing his hands up to his eye. As the other pirates began looking around, the twins fired another pair of stone, then another. Screaming, the men scrambled for safety.
Standing back to back, Curly and Tootles held their weapons out in front of them. Circling around on the spot, the two of them kept watch for any more pirates. “Yer see anything?” Curly asked, waving his club about as he crossed his right foot over his left.
“Nah-arh,” Tootles replied, shaking his head.
“Narh, me either,” said Curly with a sigh.
“Look out!” came a squeal as Slightly ran towards them, his hands flailing above his head. Curly and Tootles turned to face the direction that Slightly had just ran from.
“Let me at ‘em. Let me at ‘em,” Curly raged, his voice squeaking, as he voiced the word ‘me’. Tootles growled at his side, poking his stick out in front of him. Footsteps thundered towards them. Curly’s eyebrows narrowed as he scrunched up his face. Tootles squinted his eyes, gripping his stick tight. Five towering men, their clothes rags, blood dripping from some of their faces, raced towards them. Curly swallowed, his heart pounding inside of him. His hands shook. “Yer ready Tootles?” he asked as he swallowed. “Tootles?” He looked to his side. Arching his head over his shoulder, he saw Tootles sprinting away. Turning back, Curly’s eyes widened as the pirates staggered towards him. “Wait for me!” he wailed, throwing his arms in the air as he ran after Tootles.
As the boys dived behind a log with Slightly, a large hole opened up on the ground in front of the pirates. The first of the pirates wobbled forwards, as he stopped running and pressed his knees together. The others crashed into him from behind. Two large, pointed, fur ears twitched, as they popped up from the hole. Leaping into the air, the Easter Bunny gasped as he saw the blooded band of buccaneers before him. “Crikey!” he exclaimed as he bounced into the air. Throwing both of his hands to his shoulders, the Easter Bunny swiped out his boomerangs. Flicking out both of his wrists, the boomerangs swung out towards the pirates, hitting them across the arms, face and chest. As the pirates fell towards one another, squirming with pain and attempting to dodge the wooden missiles, the Easter Bunny flung out five of his magical eggs. Throwing one at each of the pirates, a blue, green, pink and two orange ovals hurtled through the air. As the eggs cracked into a powdery dust on the pirates’ heads, their eyelids lowered and their bodies swayed. Grabbing a mound of stones beside him, Slightly took aim and lobbed them at the buccaneers, knocking each of them to the ground.
“Bullseye,” Slightly cheered, throwing a punch in the air. Climbing out from hiding behind the log, Slightly, Curly and Tootles each thanked the Easter Bunny for his help.
“Hey,” he told them, catching his boomerangs as they swung back to him. “It was nothing.”

*

Swinging his golden swirl whips into the sky, the Sandman slashed his sand at the nightmares as they raged down on the redskins’ camp. His eyebrows slanted downwards. He snarled his nose as he threw another golden whip towards one of Pitch’s nightmares. The sand entwined itself around the mare’s body. The Sandman jerked his arm back, pulling the whip tight. The glowing black onyx puffed into a sprinkling of dark sand. Another nightmare appeared in front of him. He flicked his wrist again, throwing out another sandy beam. It twisted itself around the horse’s legs. The mare struggled, pulling back against the knot at its knees. The Sandman swung another coil at the beast. As his golden sand snapped against its darkened-mauve grains, the nightmare exploded into a burst of black sand. Another appeared at his side. Then another. And another. As fast as the Sandman was able to rid Neverland of these creatures, another five appeared at his sides.

*

Having clambered out from the waterfall’s cave, Captain Hook and Peter swung their blades towards each other. As the captain’s hook lodged into the rock face, Peter threw his right hand behind his back and prodded his dagger at the pirate. Captain Hook snarled at him and flung his rapier in the air. Peter slashed his dagger’s blade against it. As the two of them forced pressure onto the other’s arm, stones rained down on them from the evergreen mountain above. Throwing a hand over his head, Peter leapt back. Turning in the direction from where the stones flew from, Peter bellowed, “Watch it you blockheads!” throwing a fist up at the tree covered hill.
While Peter’s back was turned, Captain Hook had crept up behind him. Taking in a deep breath, he yelled, “Hee-yah!” as he swung his sword at Peter’s back. Peter spun around, clashing his steel against the captain’s.
“Stabbing me in the back?” Peter gasped. “That’s not good form, Captain.”
“Good form?” roared Captain Hook, a vein bulging on his temple. “Good form? Blast good form,” he bellowed shaking his mane of hair about.
Taking a step back off the ledge, Peter leapt into the air. Staring at the waterfall he gasped and flew out, over the brook, away from the pirate’s reach. Cupping his hands around his mouth, Peter turned towards the brawl taking place on the opposite ledge and shouted, “Jack look, the water.”
Swiping his sword at the air, Captain Hook growled, “Come back ‘ere an’ fight me, you coward,” as Peter floated further towards his friend.
Swooping from under Pitch’s strike, Jack shouted back, “What?” as he flew towards Peter.
“The water!” Peter yelled back. “It’s turning blue again, look!” Throwing his legs out in front of him, Peter sat in the air and pointed, as a cascade of clear, bright, blue splashed from the top of the waterfall and into the Babbling Brook below. Jack gasped, dragging a hand through his hair as he stared. The deep, glowing purple drained away. As the blue crashed into the brook, it seeped out into the rest of the water. Splashing up against the sandy banks, the ground became soft and yellow once more. The charcoaled stained wall washed away, returning it to its former faded grey. The vines and twisted blossoms that crept down the mountain side and into the water began to bloom again.
“Wow,” Jack breathed. “What’s happening?”
 “That’s exactly what I’d like to know,” steamed a breath down the back of his neck. Jack ducked his head into his shoulders, as he swept around. A shudder prickled up his spine, as Pitch’s angered face appeared in front of his own. “Hook?” Pitch shouted, as he turned towards him. Biting on the barb of his hook, the pirate shook his head and gave a shrug.
“I don’t understand,” he muttered. “Me poison, it’s never failed me before…”
Air whooshed through the cave entrance and around the waterfall. A cluster of glowing glimmers emerged around both sides of the gushing water. As they swept around the pouring water, a smirk stretched across Captain Hook’s face. Twisting his moustache around his hook he chuckled to himself. “The fairies,” he mused. “Right on time.” Having heard the captain’s remark, Peter spun around.
Flying towards him, Peter raged, “What did you do to them?” He jabbed his dagger towards Captain Hook’s throat. “Don’t try me Hook,” he growled, clenching his teeth tight. “I’ll do it.”
“My, my,” Hook laughed. “Big words for a boy who’s about to be blown to smithereens…” He gave a chuckle, before throwing his head over his shoulder and bellowing, “Smee!”
“Izz!” Jack shouted. Peter gasped and spun around. Flying out from the waterfall, with two fairies at her side, Izz waved a hand at them. Her other arm, the boys noticed, was curled around a black, rectangular shaped device.
“The girl,” Pitch grumbled, glaring up at her. Seeing the black box in her hands, he flung himself towards Captain Hook. “I thought you said it was taken care of.”
“I did,” the pirate shouted back. “It was. Are you questionin’ me orders?”
“Well if everything’s taken care of…” Pitch said, his tone calm. “Then why is the brat here with the bomb in her hands? And where’s the Stone you big-headed buffoon?” Pitch raged, jabbing a finger under Captain Hook’s chin. The pirate raised his head and swallowed. Pitch dug his nail harder into the captain’s skin. “That thing could have blown us up and it would all have been for nothing,” Pitch spat. “And you call yourself a villain… your nothing more than a pathetic sidekick.” He gave one last prod into Captain Hook’s chin with the tip of his nail, before spinning around to the others.
Pitch glided towards Izz, his fingers laced at his stomach. The fairies sped away from her sides. As Peter jerked his head over towards the Never Peak, the fairies shot off in its direction. Passing Jack and Peter, Pitch came to a stop in front of Izz and smiled at her. She tightened her grip around the bomb and lowered it to her side. Tilting his chin up, Pitch said to her, “It’s nice of you to join us, Izz. The boys were beginning to think you wouldn’t show… beginning to realise that you don’t care about them anymore.” She leaned back, as he took a step closer. Her pulse pounded around her chest, down her arms and in her fingers. “I like this new trick of yours,” he said with a smirk, gesturing at her hovering in the air. “What did you do, trick the fairies into believing that you cared about them too?” His smile faded. His eyes narrowed. He snarled his nose. “Well you didn’t fool me.” He clawed his hand out towards her. Izz leapt back and tossed the black box, underarm, out to her left.
“Peter catch!” she cried.
Darting to the side, Peter threw his arms out. Stretching his fingers wide, he grabbed onto the device, pulling it close to his chest. Examining it, he flew back towards the ledge, while Pitch grabbed a hand around Izz’s throat. Her stomach tightened. She kicked her legs about and clawed her fingers at his, as he held her up in the air. Jack lunged himself towards Pitch. With his free hand, Pitch swung his arm out, flinging his scythe at Jack.
Perching on the edge of the mountain’s ledge, Peter held the black box out in front of him. He scrunched his face up at the ticking clock and shook it beside his ear. “What is it?” he shouted, as he held it up in front of his face again. Waiting for an answer, Peter scratched his head.
“A bomb!” Izz squeaked back, as loud as she could manage, squirming in Pitch’s grasp.
“A bomb?!” Peter repeated. His eyes widened, alarmed.
“Wind the clock back!” Izz ordered, digging her nails into Pitch’s skin.
Tilting the box to the side, Peter’s brow creased, as he yelled back, “What? How?”
“Twist the key on the back,” she told him, as Jack made another charge at Pitch. “It’ll give us more time.”
“More time?” she heard Jack yelled from behind Pitch. “More time for what?” Pitch spun his head around to face him.
“To destroy it,” Izz squeaked, feeling Pitch tightened his grip around her throat. She tried to gasp, but her throat coughed from Pitch’s strangle. She scrunched up her face, stretching her throat up as high as she could. Pitch turned back towards her and cackled. With a crying shout, Jack charged towards Pitch, thrusting his staff into the antagonist’s lower back. Staggering forwards, Pitch howled, loosening his hold around Izz throat. She kicked herself away from him, gasping for air.
“Destroy it?” Izz heard Peter repeat, as she turned towards him. As Peter’s brow creased while he prodded the contraption with his dagger, a shadow built over him. Sneaking up behind Peter, as he stood at the edge of the mountain ledge, the towering figure of Captain Hook held his sword to the back of the boy’s neck.
“Peter, look out!” Izz screamed. Throwing the bomb up into the air, Peter spun around. His dagger swept Captain Hook’s sword from his hand. The pirate gave a cry, backing away as his sword clattered to the ground.
“G, g, g-go easy on me boy,” stuttered the captain, shuffling his feet behind him. “Y, you w, w-wouldn’t stab a fellow unarmed… would you?” Swiping Captain Hook sword from the ground, Peter held it up to the pirate’s face.
“Oh, wouldn’t I?”
Izz flung herself at the bomb as it plunged towards the brook. ‘Maybe I should have dropped the bomb into the water before I added the antidote,’ Izz realised, as she clasped the clock and cylinders of dynamite in her arms. Kicking her legs, she drifted upwards, as she wound on the clock’s key. With the mechanics scraping in her hands, she averted her eyes from Pitch swiping his scythe at Jack to find Peter pressing Captain Hook’s rapier into his throat. Gasping, she pinched her eyes shut and pressed her hand harder into the clock’s key.
“No!” she heard Jack cry. Flicking her eyes open, a mass of back swooped towards her. As Pitch’s whip squeezed tight around her waist, the black box fell from her fingers.
Leaping through the air, Jack dived down towards the black box, as it soared towards the water. Grabbing hold of it, he swept across the water’s surface, before shooting back up into the air. Running his thumb across the device’s black dynamite cylinders, he shook it. Its ticking loudened. The second hand jittered, as it overtook the number nine. Tucking his staff under his armpit, Jack shoved his hand inside the front pouch of his hoodie and pulled out the knife that Curly gave him earlier. He sucked in a breath and with a growl stabbed the knife into the centre of the clock’s face. Its glass cracked. Jack swung his hand back and smashed it again. The knife shattered the surface glass and sliced into the clock’s face between the second hand and the other three. He jerked his hand down, cutting through the mechanisms. A spring shot out. “Whoa!” Jack gasped, sliding his head to the side to avoid the flying piece of metal. Sawing the knife into the metal coils either side of the clock, Jack let the cylinders of dynamite splash into the brook below.
Hearing the splash, Pitch loosened his grip from Izz’s arms and spun around. His elbows angled at his sides and his fingers clawed out, as he watched Jack cut free the last chunk of dynamite, throwing both the cylinders and the smashed clock into the water below. “You…” Pitch growled. Uncoiling his whip from Izz, Pitch snorted a breath through his nose, flaring his nostrils, before lunging himself back at Jack. Slipping the knife back into his pocket, Jack chucked his staff into both of his hands, slanting it across his body.
Keeping the sword pointed to the side of Captain Hook’s throat, Peter arched his head over his left shoulder just in time to see Jack drop the bomb into the water. He jerked his head back around to Captain Hook. Leaning closer towards him, he laughed in the pirate’s face. “Your plan failed, Hook,” Peter told him, curling his nose up at the pirate. “But then again, your plans always fail.” Captain Hook’s bottom lip quivered, as his eyes stared down at the blade creasing his throat. Pressing his head back against the mountain wall, he swallowed. The pirate’s chest shook. A drop of sweat trickled from his forehead and down the bridge of his nose.
“Y, yh, yh-you w, w-ouldn’t ‘urt an’ ol’ friend, now… would ya, Pan?” Captain Hook stuttered, his eyes hypnotised, unable to move from the blade.
Hearing Izz cry out, as Pitch rammed himself into Jack’s side, Peter threw his head over his shoulder. As Pitch stood over Jack, laughing, Peter swiped the sword away from Captain Hook’s throat and sped over towards them.
Izz edged forwards, a hand to her mouth, her brow lined. Shaking her head, she swallowed. Her stomach twisted, as she saw Jack roll backwards, following Pitch’s lung at him. As Peter flew towards her, she leapt over to his side. He squeezed her right shoulder and she forced the corner of her mouth to smile at him. Removing his hand from her shoulder, Peter took the rapier’s blade in his hand and twisted its hilt around to Izz. Her eyes dropped from Peter to the sword. She stared at it. The drumming inside of her increased its beat. “Take it,” he told her. She swallowed looking up at him. “Go on,” he whispered. “Take it and we’ll finish Pitch once and for all.” As Peter’s eyes met hers, she shifted her sight back down to the rounded, brass handle in front of her. Pitch cackled in the distance. She pinched her eyes shut. His voice created a shudder up her back. Sucking in a breath, she gripped her right palm around the sword’s helm and opened her eyes. “Are you ready?” Peter asked, as she looked towards him. She glanced from Pitch, back to Peter and nodded.
Swiping his sickle out to the side of him, Pitch gave a throaty laugh. “Oh give up Jack,” he chortled, as Jack rested a hand to his knee, arching his back.
“Never,” Jack breathed.
“Very well,” Pitch sneered. “Have it your way.” Pitch swung his arm back with a groan. Jack crouched forwards, bouncing from left to right on his toes. As Pitch seeped a breath through his teeth, Peter nodded at Izz. The two of them flew forwards. With a whooping cry, Pitch flung his scythe towards Jack. He ducked, jabbing his staff at Pitch’s stomach. Peter flung his dagger forwards into Pitch’s side. Izz thrust the sword forwards, into Pitch’s back. The three weapons came together, stabbing into Pitch at the same time.
Light flashed before them. A bang erupted. The air between them popped. Peter, Izz and Jack staggered forwards. Black sand exploded, showering them. They gasped. Lowering their weapons, Izz, Jack and Peter gazed at each other. Pitch was gone. His deep cackle echoed in their ears. Izz shuddered. Jack held his hand out, black sand mounding in his palm. He rubbed his fingers through it, before allowing the sand to trickle down into the brook.
Shouts and joyful cheers sang out from the top of the Never Peak. Izz, Jack and Peter threw their heads around to see the redskins leaping up and down. The nightmares were gone. The fires had extinguished. The amethyst clouds that had congregated at the brink of the peak began to break. Cracks of blue sky emerged.
Hearing his cockerel caw coming from the far evergreen hill, a grin stretched across Peter’s face. Turning his head towards the Lost Boys’ calls, Peter’s smile slid into a glare, as his eyes fixed upon the ledge where he had been just moments ago. “Hook,” he growled. Spinning his body around to the spot where he had left the pirate, Peter frowned. “Where’d he go?” he asked, pointing his dagger at the ledge as he scratched his head. Izz and Jack neared Peter’s side and scanned the area nearby for the captain.
“Look!” Izz exclaimed, pointing over to their far left. “There he is.” Both Peter and Jack arched their heads around to see.
Having witnessed the gruesome disappearance of his former associate, Hook ran to the end of the ledge and leapt behind the waterfall to the other side. Having clambered up and over a rim of the mountain, he stumbled to the ground. Lifting his head up, he came face to face with a crocodile. The captain swallowed, clambering to his feet. The cannibal snapped its jaws, a tick-tock-tick-tock echoing from its mouth. Screaming, Captain Hook threw his hands over his head and ran. Scrambling through the trees, he fled, throwing his head over his shoulder to keep track of the crocodile.
Peter and his friends burst into laughter. Holding a hand to the stitch at his side from laughing too hard, Jack asked Peter, “Shouldn’t we go after him?”
“Nah,” Peter replied wafting a hand across his face. “The croc’ll catch him eventually,” he laughed.
As the band of pirates witness the disappearance of Pitch, and their beloved captain escape from the crocodile, the remaining members of Captain Hook’s crew grabbed their weapons and fled. Leaving the pirates to run away, the Lost Boys threw their hands in the air and crowed as loud as they could. Taking a huge breath, Peter jumped up, cupped his hands to his mouth and cawed, “Arh, Ah-Argh, Ah-Arrrrh!”

- Josie -
Posted by at
Labels: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)