Three days pass before I feel capable of leaving my room--mainly because Mila indulges me, bringing me pie and sweet milk and even chocolate.
When my back starts to hurt from laying down for so long, though, I force myself up. Whether Peter is coming back or not--and I don't want him to--I can't laze around and do nothing with my life.
I chose to come here. Peter may have given me the option, but it was my choice. I came here to help my world, not to make friends with a broody, rude, heartless faerie king. If he's even a faerie. Not that it matters.
Finding something to do that isn't lazy isn't as easy as it sounds.
Mila won't let me into the kitchen--that's her domain. She already has two barmaids and a tall, imposing man--with a lot of scars and a permanent scowl--who checks guests in and out. The Faerie Tin is small and doesn't take a lot of upkeep, so aside from clearing a table every now and then or holding doors open for guests, I'm not much help.
I spend two days watching Mila and her employees--the barmaids, Jenna and Jane, along with Karver the scary desk clerk--interact with customers. Mila is the only person I've met at the Tin who actually speaks, aside from two cloaked travelers who only spoke to each other and glared at everyone else.
The way they communicate is... strange. I'd say it's something like sign language, except they use their facial expressions a lot, and their hand motions seem more like quick bursts of motion than the elegant words I've seen deaf people use.
I try to learn a few things, but after Karver teaches me an expression that turns out to mean "Hi, I'm stupid", I go back to just watching.
By the time a week has passed, I feel more than useless, and I'm bored out of my mind, sitting at the kitchen table while Mila makes up some delicious smelling soup.
"Are you sure there's nothing I can do to help you?" I ask, my tone despondent.
Mila stirs her pot before turning to me, wiping her delicate hands on a stained apron. Her eyes, as usual, are calm and no-nonsense.
"Look, I know you're wanting something to pass the time," she says, her words not unkind, "but the best I can give you is to go grocery shopping--except Jenny'd have to go with you because you can't speak Quaaian."
Quaaian being the name of their silent language, I've learned. Mila is very informative, and she likes to talk. In the week I've been here I've learned a lot about the City of Quiet and Neverland itself.
Neverland is an island on a small moon in what they call the Ygan Peninsula--a star system who knows how far away from Earth. She's never even heard of the Milky Way Galaxy. It's like something out of a Star Wars movie--literally. The rest of the moon is made up of water, while Neverland has five different terrains--the Plains, which covers the in-betweens; the Faerie Forest, which is the biggest forest; the Twisted Wood, which is a smaller, even more dangerous forest to the northeast; the Wild Wood, which is the smallest forest and not that far from here; and the Dunescape, a desert-like area to the far east.
Mila has taught me some of the star formations--which are all different from back home--and that the reason the light is strange here is because it's from a white star. Neverland's moon orbits an ice planet, so sometimes we'll get random ice storms that freeze everything for a little while, but usually the weather is fair.
She's also taught me about a lot of the creatures who live here--that there are six types of faeries, but most don't interact with people, and that just about every monster or boogeyman I've ever heard of exists. As do a lot that I've never heard of.
YOU ARE READING
Unhappily Never After (Neverland Archives II) (ON HOLD)
Fantasy"Tell me, Gwen," Peter says, looking at me with his impossible green eyes. "Are you afraid of the dark?" "No." I say, and I'm lying. But he pretends that I'm not, and I pretend not to notice, and the portal zips shut behind us. No going back now. "W...
