Page 101 of Lost in the Never Woods

Every noise slipping between the trees ran over her skin. A rattling inhale brushed the nape of her neck. An unnatural scream of a buck jolted her spine. A cacophony of screaming owls dragged cold nails across her stomach. Wendy’s breaths came in heavy pants. Her hair stuck to her lips. Her heart raced. She couldn’t turn back. She couldn’t stop. She needed to find Peter. She needed to get to the children before it was too late.

Wendy pushed herself forward and burst into a clearing. She skidded to a stop, kicking up dirt and leaves. The string tugging at her chest that had pulled her through the woods vanished, as if suddenly cut.

Looming before her stood the tree. The darkness made it look even more towering. Shadows caught in the crags like deep scars in its graying, fleshy bark.

“Wendy!”

Her chest heaved, a moment of relief like a shot through her body. “Oh my God, I found you.” The words were choked as she rushed over.

Benjamin, Ashley, Matthew, Joel, and even little Alex huddled together in some kind of cage. They were a little worse for the wear—with tousled hair, faces smudged with dirt, and grimy clothes—but they were all in one piece and alive.

“Wendy, help!” Ashley cried, cheeks red, tears spilling down her pale face.

“Please!” said Benjamin, his voice jumping with a sob as he pulled on the bars.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I’ll get you out of here,” Wendy croaked.

Of course, they were not normal bars. Not a normal cage. It was made of the same undulating shadow tendrils that had tried to ensnare her twice. The ones that had wrapped Peter in their binds.

Wendy gripped them in her fists and pulled hard. They had little give and pulsed against her palms like a grotesque heartbeat.

“You have to get us out!” Joel pleaded. Matthew huddled against his older brother’s side, his fingers knotted into Joel’s shirt as he wailed.

Their voices tumbled over one another, begging and pleading, except for Alex. His entire body, drowning in his large blue hoodie, quaked violently. He reached an arm out for Wendy, his tear-stained cheek pressing against a bar, trying to shove himself through. Wendy caught his tiny hand as it swiped helplessly through the air. It was cold and clammy in her palms.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she said over and over, her voice tight and betraying her own fear as she tried to console them. Crouching down, she met Alex’s wide brown eyes. “It’ll be all right. I’ll get you out,” she said, cupping Alex’s cheek in her hand. He turned his face into her palm. Sobs jerked through his tiny body.

“I’ll get you all out,” she stressed. “I just—I just—”

“We really must stop meeting like this. It’s starting to get annoying.”

The shadow sprawled out on a thick branch, one leg dangling. Its eyes were narrowed into slits as it stared down at Wendy. All traces of its earlier venomous mirth had vanished.

“Let them go,” Wendy demanded, pulling herself away from their prison. Sniffles and whimpers sounded behind her. “I won’t let you hurt them.”

“Hurt them?” Its dark eyebrows furrowed. “I need them alive and frightened. It’s the mental and emotional suffering I’m after.” Its gaze shifted down to the children. With a twirl of its wrist, a shudder of air rolled through the trees. The very corner of its lip peeled back from its teeth. “However, I am growing quite tired of this game of cat and mouse, Wendy.” It flicked her a hollow stare. “It’s not fun anymore.”

“Wendy,” Ashley squeaked.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Wendy took a step closer to the tree and firmly planted her feet on the ground. “Where’s Peter?” she said. Her legs shook, but at least her voice sounded steady.

“Peter?” The shadow yawned, bony joints popping as it stretched on the branch. “Oh, he’s a bit tied up at the moment.” A wicked smile twisted its lips. A long finger pointed somewhere above her head.

Wendy looked up.

Suspended in mid-air was Peter.

Thick, ropy shadows hung from one of the gnarled branches of the great tree. They snaked around his waist, pulling his back in an unnatural arch. More shadows twisted around his arms and legs and up his throat. They pulsed and thrummed, draining him of his light.

Peter’s skin was nearly colorless. The rich red and brown of his auburn hair had faded. Now it was ghostly silver, the color of starlight. Thin lines of gold, liquid magic, ran from Peter’s nose and the corners of his parted gray lips. He didn’t move or speak. His eyes were closed, his deep-purple eyelids barely fluttering. A single drop of gold rolled from his eyelashes and ran into the silvery hair at his temple.

A sharp inhale caught in Wendy’s throat. “Peter.”

“It’s just a matter of time before Peter Pan is no more,” the shadow said slowly, as if savoring the taste of each word.

Anger burned inside her. “Why are you doing this?” Wendy snarled.

“Why?” the shadow asked. Its eyes narrowed to black slits. “Why?” It was no longer relaxed and enjoying itself. It stood up, its body growing rigid. The ground beneath her feet began to quiver. “Shadows and darkness used to rule over man with fear,” it told her. “Then light magic began to take over, like Peter. He was created to be my opposite, to bring joy and laughter,” the shadow spat, its lips curling back over its gleaming teeth. “Peter took care of the lost souls of the children that I used to torment!”