Just thinking about it makes my skin crawl.
“There was a coup,” I tell her and that will be all I tell her.
“Who?”
Those are skeletons I don’t want to unbury.
Thankfully, I don’t have to. We’ve arrived at our destination. “Look.” I pull back an overgrown fern to reveal the Never Lagoon.
The Darling stops on the path, her mouth agape, her eyes wide. “Whoa.”
White sand surrounds the lagoon and the water that fills it is bright turquoise, even beneath the gloomy sky.
It butts up against Marooner’s Rock so that the lagoon is mostly hidden, nestled between rock and forest.
Rain continues to patter against the leaves. “Come closer,” I tell her and take her hand, and she inhales at my touch.
My chest tightens.
We go to the water’s edge.
“Look down,” I tell her.
There is no great depth to the lagoon, but it’s full of magic. Or it was once, and so when you look straight down, it’s like looking through a portal.
And in that swirl of water and magic, glowing shapes swim back and forth almost like a slow-motion dance.
Every now and then a face turns to the surface, eyes glowing bright.
“Holy shit,” the Darling says and staggers back. I catch her before she stumbles over her feet.
I can’t help but laugh. The sound of it catches me off guard.
“What are those?” she asks. “They look like mermaids or ghosts.”
“Maybe a little of both.”
Tink once told me the lagoon was a portal to the afterlife, that the shapes swimming beneath the surface were trapped souls.
I skirt the shore and pluck a stone from the sand and send it skipping over the water. Swirls of light rise up to meet it.
“This is…amazing,” the Darling says.
“Your mother said the same thing.”
She frowns. “You brought my mom here?”
“She was…not well,” I admit. “Sometimes the lagoon can be healing. I thought maybe it would help her.”
The girl is looking at me now like she doesn’t recognize me.
“You tried to help her?”
She softens and takes a step toward me.
I turn away. “She was sobbing all night long,” I say. “Had to shut her up somehow.”
That’s not true. Not entirely. Merry had been sobbing, but for a much different reason.
And when she told me—
I pluck another stone from the sand but this time when I toss it, it sails clean across the lagoon and lets out a resounding crack when it hits the face of Marooner’s Rock.
“Did it help her?” Darling asks. “The lagoon?”
The rain picks up again and when I turn back to the Darling, she’s trembling in the cold.
My chest catches on a growl. I take off my shirt in one quick yank of fabric and go to her. “Arms up, Darling,” I order and she dutifully follows my command. It’s not a thick shirt, but it’ll do for now.
“Tell me,” she says and peers up at me. Mist clings to her lashes and rain drips from the end of her nose. “Please.”
I sigh. “I think so, for a while anyway.”
She nods. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” I say. “The reason she was in need of anything was because of me. Remember?”
She frowns at me, her gaze searching for things that I don’t think I possess but desperately want to give her.
“Come. Tilly will be to the house soon. We best get back.”
She needs warm, dry clothes. That’s what she needs.
It’s the least I can give her before the fae queen digs into her head.
25
WINNIE
Peter Pan’s shirt smells like him. Like wild forest and heady nights.
I pull it closer to my torso to keep in some of my body heat while I follow him back through the woods.
When we emerge and the house comes into view, I pause for a second. It’s the first I’ve really looked at the house from the front. It’s massive, hugged on both sides by wild, tropical forest. Bright flowers dot the surrounding trees and several palms rise high above. All of the windows of the house are lit up, sending a golden glow into the descending night.
My mom said there was magic on the island. The illusions the twins cast were certainly magic, but now I know what my mom was really talking about. The lagoon, the swimming souls that looked like mermaids, and the house glowing with life.
I love it here, even though that feels like a leap considering I’ve barely been here at all.
There’s something about it that feels familiar, that feels like returning home after a long trip. A place to sigh with contentment.