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Lost in the Never Woods(47)

Author:Aiden Thomas

They needed to leave, they needed to escape—

It came crashing back with violent weight: the reason she was in the woods to begin with. “Alex,” Wendy choked out. “It took Alex!” She spun, looking in all directions. “ALEX!” she shouted, throat raw. Her head whipped around. Her hair stuck to her lips as she called out for him.

Which way had he gone? Where had it taken him? “We have to get him back,” Wendy said. She made for the woods, but Peter caught her by the elbow.

“We need to get you home,” Peter said. His voice was steady, which only angered Wendy.

Peter was calm, and she was furious with him for it.

“No, we need to find Alex,” Wendy insisted. “We can’t just abandon him here!” She tried to jerk her arm away, but Peter held on.

“They’re already gone,” he said. His expression was defeated but certain. “It’s dark, we don’t know which way it went, we need to go back—”

“No!” Wendy shouted at him. Wrenching her arm free from his grasp, she shoved him away. “He’s alone!” She squeezed her hands into fists. “You don’t know what it’s like, being in these woods! We can’t just leave him!”

Wendy’s eyes stung and her vision blurred. She rubbed at them angrily. Couldn’t he see that? Didn’t he understand?

Peter’s arms fell to his sides. His eyebrows tipped and the look of pity on his face made her want to slap him.

“Wendy,” he said gently.

But gentleness was not what Wendy needed. She needed to rage and scream against the night.

“We have to find him!” Wendy imagined Alex’s terrified cries. She pictured him lost and alone. It was her fault he was gone. She should’ve rescued him. She should’ve kept him safe. Wendy imagined her brothers.

“WE CAN’T LEAVE THEM!” she shouted before sobs overcame her. Collapsing on her knees, she ducked and twisted her arms over the top of her head, trying to shield herself. Her fingers tangled themselves in her hair. She was terrified and exhausted. She wanted to find Alex. She wanted to find her brothers.

She wanted to go home.

Wendy felt Peter kneel down next to her. Through her elbows, she could see him hold a closed fist out in front of her.

Just as the last of the lights died out on the forest floor, right before they were plunged into darkness, Peter opened his hand and sparks jumped to life in his palm. The clearing was silent for a moment before, slowly, crickets began to sing from deep in the woods.

Wendy stared at the glittering lights. They were bright and danced around his fingertips. They gave off no heat and didn’t seem to burn him.

It was mesmerizing. Wendy stared and wiped her nose on her shoulder. “W-what is that?” She hiccupped into the fabric of her shirt.

Peter gave her a weak smile. “Would you believe me if I said pixie dust?”

CHAPTER 11

Old Friends

By the light of the pixie dust sparking in his hand, Peter navigated them through the woods. He told her they couldn’t stay any longer, in case the shadow came back. Wendy would’ve fought him, but he made a good point—they would be blindly searching the woods. Wendy’s body was so heavy and stiff with grief and exhaustion, she simply didn’t have enough fight left to object further. It took every ounce of energy she had left to walk back to her house.

Peter led the way, and, though it bruised her pride, Wendy held on to his arm as they wove between trees and ducked under branches. She had a hard time looking at where she was going. Her eyes kept getting drawn to the pixie dust in Peter’s hand.

The small flecks of light leapt and bounced on his skin. They looked like they were dancing, or shaking with welled-up excitement. It reminded her of how Michael often looked, sitting in bed and squirming with glee when she began telling a story before bed.

The light danced on Peter’s face, casting a warm glow across his cheekbones and the tip of his nose and sparkling in his already bright eyes. Some shot up higher into the air, making corkscrew swirls before fizzling out, like embers popping in a bonfire, but with more life. Wendy wondered if they tickled his hand.

The woods no longer whispered, but Wendy still felt like they were being watched. After what seemed like ages, they hopped the fence into her backyard. Just as she was wondering what he would do with the pixie dust, Peter simply clapped his hands and the lights went out.

Wendy didn’t want to be near the woods any longer. The crushing sense of loss threatened to pull her down a path she tried hard to stay away from.

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