Hook assured me that this was the quickest, safest way to take care of Peter and save the island, but now I’m beginning to wonder if he’s taking a bigger risk than necessary by going through the storm. Then again, the island has been growing wilder at each full moon. Even Peter admitted that. The Spinner said the island would destroy everyone on it unless we could restore the balance—though I’m still not entirely sure what that means. If going through the Neverstorm means we can save more lives, then I need to trust in Hook and let him do his work. He knows what he’s doing, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry.
I close the door as the rain grows heavier, pounding on the ship and sending streams of water down the windows at the back of the cabin. It’s growing darker still, the waves more violent as the sea crashes around us. Nervous energy balls in my gut, and I return to the door, cracking it and watching as Hook turns the wheel, the rain drenching him as he yells orders over the noise.
A streak of lighting splits the sky ahead of us, blinding me for a moment, and then the thunder follows, rolling through me and reminding me just how small we are. A tiny ship on a vast ocean doing battle with forces that were here eons before us.
I brace myself against the timbers as the ship lists far to the side. My stomach does a flip, but then it rights itself, and we hurtle down a steep wave before hitting the bottom and rising up the other side. A wall of water shoots up from the front of the ship and falls back on us. I close the door, but water seeps in beneath it.
Now I’m leaning forward against the pull of gravity, the Jolly Roger struggling up the next big wave as the wind roars.
If Shiner’s not barfing her guts out right now, I’ll be shocked. All this rolling and wobbling has my stomach churning, and I thought I’d gotten used to being at sea.
The thunder grows louder, and my anxiety rises. I know Hook is a master sailor, but this storm is even worse than I’d expected. It doesn’t let up. The wind keeps howling and the rain is falling so hard that it sounds like someone is beating at the windows, the doors, even the deck over my head. Hundreds of fists pounding so loud that I can’t hear anything else as the ship careens up and down mountainous waves.
Holding onto the timber around the door, I try to keep to my feet as the ship continues its chaotic voyage through the Neverstorm. Anxiety and fear bite at me like dogs on my heels, but I trust Hook to get us through. Even as long minutes pass, feeding into what feels like hours. The rain and the wind don’t let up, and my muscles start to burn from the strain of fighting the push and pull of the waves.
I stumble to the table and grab onto another rope, looping it around my wrist and using it to counterbalance the push and pull of the ship. My wings beat, and I wonder if they help me with balance, something like how a cat’s tail does. But when the ship rolls unexpectedly to the right, I go flying into the bed. So, no, my balance is still crap.
When I free myself from the tangle of the blanket, I lurch to the door and try to look again, but it’s raining too hard. I can’t see anything at all, not even when lighting cuts the sky in half and seems to strike the ocean right in front of the ship.
I slam the door, worry hitting me right in the gut. How is Hook surviving out there in this storm? Will he be okay? What if he needs help? He can handle this, right? This isliterallyin his wheelhouse.
Even so, I can’t shake my fear. I return to the table and tie the pieces of rope together, chaining them to make one long line. I tie it around my waist nice and tight with my ‘idiot’s knot’ then open the door.
The rain soaks through me almost instantly, but I push through it and onto the deck.
“James!” I call for him.
Only thunder answers. I push forward, then have to scramble back and hold onto the doorframe as the Jolly Roger crests a wave and starts racing down the other side. Something goes flying past me—whatever it was now lost to the raging storm. I hold on, my knuckles going white as wind and water whip my face.
We hit bottom, another huge wave lifting over the ship and crashing down with a vengeance. Then we start up another peak. I can see the top of it, which tells me the sky is changing. Lightening. To the right, I can see the edge of swirling clouds, and beyond it, the moon shines on a calm ocean.
We’re almost out of the raging tempest. I crow with delight and hold onto the railing as I creep toward the wheel.
He’s there. I can see his figure in sharp relief from the next bolt of lightning. His tricorn on his head, his body taut as he holds the wheel and guides the Jolly Roger out of the maw of the storm.
Something grabs my ankle, and I scream.
“Get down!” Smee pulls, and I drop to my knee. He’s tethered to the railing, his entire being drenched. “The gale will knock you into the sea.” He reaches for the knot at my waist and yanks on it, making it tighter.
“Is he okay?” I yell and point at Hook.
“Of course he is. He’s thecaptain!” He pulls me down beside him, then uses the slack in my rope to tie it to the rail beside his own knot. “Stay down! We’re almost out of it!”
I open my mouth to argue but get smacked in the face by another wave. Salty.
Even in the deluge, Smee manages to give me a look of total disdain. I ignore him and watch my captain, the way he faces the storm without backing down. He seems larger than life, even more imposing than the legend Wendy passed down. All I can do is stare as he stands against the drenching rain and angry sea, his eyes forward, his body almost part of the ship despite the turmoil all around. He has no fear, no doubt. He knows who he is.
The wind begins to falter. Just a little at first, then more until it’s no longer whistling past my ears. Lightning still strikes all around the ship, but the waves seem to lessen, the splash from the ship crashing down one side and up the other not as brutal.
It’s some sort of enchantment, some magic of Neverland that keeps this perpetual tempest blowing while calm waters are within sight.
I ease my hold on the rope around me and get to my knees.
Hook seems to sense me, because he turns, his gaze on me as he gives me a cocky smirk. He can be such an asshole, but he’s good at it. He’s so fucking good at it that I can’t help but love him. I realize I never had a chance. Not when he came for me or anytime thereafter. He was already in my heart somehow. Waiting. Dormant. My love for him prepared to burst forth like the first bloom from a frozen ground.
He tips his hat at me, water sluicing off it, then turns back to the wheel.
Something moves on the staircase to the lower decks, and then I see Anne. Her eyes are wild as she runs for Hook, something in her hand. It looks like a knife from the galley.
