The Princess and The Piper

Chapter Ten

"Hunt?" I asked, cocking my head to the left.

"Yes, hunt," a lost boy with shoulder length chestnut hair mocked me while confirming my initial question. A real talent.

I noticed that all of the boys had weapons. Whether it was a stick, a crossbow, a regular bow, or just a simple knife, they still had a weapon.

"What am I supposed to use? My bare hands?" The tentative answer was sarcastic, yet the boys still shrugged their shoulders as if to say 'why not'.

"Here," Baelfire said, handing me a blade, maybe six inches long, one inch wide. Its handle was of wrapped vines, preventing the user from inflicting injury upon themselves, and its edge was spotless. As I inspected the dagger, I became aware of the markings embedded into the blade. Hieroglyphs. What was strange was that it looked similar to Atlantican, the language of my maternal ancestors. Baelfire must have observed me while I stared at it because he stated, "Don't worry, I sharpened it this morning." I probably looked like I had never seen a knife before.

"Where did you get this?" I inquired, curious of its origin in relation to my original hypothesis.

"Found it on the beach a few weeks back," he answered. "It's beautiful isn't it?"

"Yeah," I responded halfheartedly. Quite frankly, I was more interested in the dagger.

As I continued to twirl the blade in my grasp, the words inscribed seemed to glow a faint violet, almost making me drop it in reflex.

I raised my focus but frowned at the sight. Parker was smirking at me, his wooden bow at his side. This can't end well.

"Go!" Pan shouted, and just as fast, the boys disappeared among the overbearing oak trees.

A smile formed at the corners of my mouth and, without thought, I chased after them, feeling like, for once in my life, I belonged somewhere.

I ran through the forest, dagger in hand, letting all my worries slip away. The wind pressed against my face as I hopped over tree roots and ducked under branches. My hair whipped behind my receding form and nature could be heard from all directions. Adrenaline rushed through my veins, preventing my legs from tiring. And most importantly, I laughed. An actual laugh, carefree and wild.

I closed my eyes while I moved across the forest floor, letting my instincts take over. In the distance, heavy waves splashed against the sandy shore; but here, colorful birds and furry squirrels chirped, poise deer and fawn bleated, busty hogs snorted, and graceful rabbits hopped between the leaves, cracking them on impact.

I would have never guessed that the forest could be this beautiful. I was raised alongside the ocean, missing a large and important part of nature. The forest was its own ecosystem. So many species relied on it for shelter and protection. Including us.

This is what the boys feel everyday of their lives. I thought. This is what it feels like to be free.

But like my happiness, it was short lived.

I began to lose myself in my imagination, but my mind and soul were forcefully brought back to reality. The nearby voice of someone calling my name wasn't what caught my attention, it was the sound of an object whisking through the air. And it was headed straight for me at immense speeds, the sharp head aimed directly at my chest. I froze in my tracks, unable to move from increasing levels of fear.

I mentally prepared myself for impact. I was sure this was it. Everybody has a time to go, and my time was now. I closed my eyes and waited for the arrow to lodge itself into my chest. But it never did. Instead, a loud grunt sounded and intense breathing was exhaled onto my skin.

I separated my eyelids and met with the mesmerizing green eyes of none other than Pan himself. His face was inches away from mine, his vanilla and mint scent even more intoxicating than before, if that was possible. I tried to retreat, but something hard and tall was blocking my path. A tree.

Pan's arms were locked on either side of my body as he trapped me against the wall of rough bark. My heart betrayed me, beating one thousand times per minute, and time seemed to slow as we gazed into each other's eyes. His gaze flicked from my left eye to my right as if trying to decide what to do next, what move to make. Then, they traveled down to my lips, but quickly removed themselves. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he did so.

"The game is about to get interesting," he whispered lowly in my ear, causing me to shiver, before backing away and straightening his posture. It was then that I realized where the arrow went, why is never hit me.

I glanced down at Pan's torso, a newly developed habit, and caught my breath, my eyes wide in complete shock. There was the arrow, its tip sticking out of Pan's stomach. The lump in my throat prevented me from swallowing correctly and I nearly choked.

"Next time, when I tell you to move, please, do me a favor and move," he smiled at me with darkened eyes. Smiled. Who in their right mind smiles when impaled?

Then, he did the unexpected.

Pan raised his clenched fist and gripped the tip of the arrow, slowly pulling it out of the bloody wound it left behind and not once flinching while the stick left his body. I watched as he stared so intently at me, possibly trying to find something to concentrate on to drown out the pain. He exhaled sharply as the butt of the arrow exited his gut and observed it as he held it in the palm of his hand. Blood was everywhere: on his hands, dripping from his clothes. Everywhere.

"You didn't have to do that," I stated, feeling lousy for allowing someone else take the fall for me. I knew the pain he must have been feeling. I had felt it before, myself.

"Yes, I did." I wanted to hate him so bad for all he had done, but I couldn't. If he was truly the monster he claimed to be, why would he risk himself for me? There was a side to him that no one knew. That part became widely evident.

"What about the blood! You're clearly hurt," I mentioned, trying to show my gratitude without blatantly thanking him.

"Where's your sense of adventure?"

He waved his hand over the wound, producing a glimmering green mist. With just the swish of his hand, the blood and any other evidence was gone. It disappeared as if it was never there in the first place.

"See, gone. Nothing to worry about," he retorted, smirking again.

Before I could respond, Pan turned on his heel and whistled, his noise echoing through the timber and muting all animals. Rustling could be heard from all directions: the sound of leaves cracking and bushes shaking from the artificial winds.

"To whom does this arrow belong?"

He interrogated the lost boys as they stood like students in a military academy in front of us. He glared at them, from the shortest and thinnest to the tallest and stoutest. Not one pair of eyes did he miss. But none confessed.

"No one? Cat got your tongue?" He directed the last question toward Baelfire, even though he had a dagger.

Out of the nine boys on display, five possessed knives, one clutched a stick (how sad), and two held crossbows. One of the boys had a wooden bow with arrows thrown disorderly into a sack knocked over his shoulder. His arrow matched the one in Pan's hand perfectly, and I wasn't surprised at to who is was.

Parker.

Of course it was Parker. It had to be.

Pan must have seen me staring at him or figured it out himself because he approached Parker.

"Next time, try to hit something you can eat," Pan ordered him, not wasting any of his time to turn back and smirk at me, lifting his eyebrow. All Pan did was confuse me. It's all he ever did. "Now you better be back with your dinner in an hour, go!"

Once again the boys scattered, losing themselves in the woodland. But Parker didn't think twice before scowling and roughly brushing shoulders with me.

Great. I thought. I've made an enemy.