“I always knew it was here,” the Brownie answers. “To be fair, I thought you’d be dead by now. We all did.”
The others nod. There are seven of them in total.
“What do you plan to do with my shadow once you claim it? Not many can hold it.”
“The twins could,” the Brownie says.
Pan goes rigid. “What’s Tilly have to say about that?”
“She wants what’s best for the island.” The Brownie rests his hand on the hilt of a blade strapped at his hip. “You were a vicious king. You can’t think we want you to return to that?”
I watch Pan’s face for a reaction. I know he can be vicious. I watched him kill that Lost Boy for nothing more than flirting with me. But just how vicious is he?
I’m not afraid of him, but maybe I should be.
Maybe jumping off that cliff was the least brave thing I’ve done in so many days.
“I won’t let you stop me,” Pan says.
“I won’t let you leave here with your shadow,” the Brownie says.
There is a quiet, still moment right before fighting breaks out.
Mom is wedged between the corner and the trunk, her arms wrapped around her knees.
I run to her as swords clash.
“Mom? Are you okay?”
“Winnie? Oh, Winnie!” She unfolds herself and wraps her arms around me. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I’m fine.”
I look over my shoulder to see Vane’s hands on either side of a Brownie’s head. He twists violently and the Brownie’s neck snaps.
My stomach rolls.
“Mom, do you know of a hidden compartment in great-grandmother’s chest?”
“No. Why?”
I unlatch it and pop the lid open. It smells like it’s from another century and the paper lining is now brittle and coming off in flakes. We’ve used it to store old linens and blankets, and one photo album that’s only a third full.
Someone screams behind us. I don’t think it’s the boys.
I yank out the blankets, the sheets, and then run my hand along the trunk’s interior. How did the Darling in my dream do it?
I start knocking on the inner walls.
Nothing happens.
“Come on.”
I think it was the left side of the trunk in my dream. I rap my knuckles again. Once, twice. Nothing.
Maybe I’m not being forceful enough. The Darling in my dream hit the trunk with more of a thump than a knock.
I try again and—
A drawer pops open.
And nestled inside, aged by decades of waiting, is a box.
31
PETER PAN
I fucking hate Brownies.
On the island, they’re usually scarce, preferring to slink in the shadows rather than be seen in the light. I suppose I can relate to that.
But this Brownie, the one that has been around as long as I have, who has served the fae court, has been out for my blood since I killed Tink.
And maybe I deserve it.
He’s quicker than I am, darting in and around me, making deep cuts in my flesh with the blade of his jeweled dagger.
I have one of my blades poised to gut him.
He will not stand between me and my shadow and ultimately my throne.
The others make quick work of the lesser Brownies until only the one remains.
Blood mists the air. I can taste it on the tip of my tongue.
“You’re surrounded, Brownie,” Vane says as he and the twins circle. Vane just barely has control of his shadow. I sense it bristling beneath the surface, desperate to come out. “Best relent.”
“I won’t,” the Brownie answers. “My princes,” he adds and turns to the twins. “If you’re looking for a path back to court, then join me now. The shadow can be yours.”
Kas and Bash come to a stop and regard one another. I hear the faint tinkling of bells.
I spoke their language once, but I’ve forgotten the shape of the words, the chime of the syllables.
If they fucking turn on me now…
Bash slides his blade back into its sheath. “There’s something we could never quite figure out, Brownie. Maybe you can fill us in.”
The Brownie nods. “Anything at all.”
“The Darlings are always changed after our dear sister gets inside their heads. She’s always told Pan it’s a hazard of the magic. That the more a Darling fights it, the worse it’ll be.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“But Merry didn’t fight it. She told us before Tilly came that she would do what she could to help Pan.”