Chapter 9
The sun finally rises when we arrive back at camp. A full day has passed since I went out to find the girls, since we stopped to sleep in the forest. The sun will probably only be up for a few hours.
I didn't sleep, instead choosing to keep watch during our trek back to the camp. So now, I'm absolutely exhausted. I haven't slept in maybe a full day, but probably longer. See, when I close my eyes I know what is coming, so I refuse to. Show no weakness, show no fear.
Instead of moving back to the camp, I head over to Peter's house. The sun already sets beneath the horizon by the time I get there, not because it takes a while to get there but because that's how the sun is deciding to be today. It's more annoying than helpful, so now I'm sort of stuck.
When I get up the ladder, I move to the cushioned bed, lying down on top of it. The ceiling is made out of rock, just like the rest of the house. It's deep grey, and looks like a cloud of smoke, or a polluted river.
I close my eyes slowly, letting my head rest on the soft sheets.
My mother's dead body is on the floor. Her peach scent filling the air, turning sour as her expression lays still. In the crook of her arm is my sister, holding on to her tight but crying all the same.
"Look at what you've done!" Johnny cries from behind me.
He holds Alison's grey body, and the very idea of her unravels in his hands, until all he holds are the ashes of her body, and strands of her hair. He pulls it tightly against his chest, the ruins of what she once was displayed across his clothing. A cry escapes his lips, but I can't seem to actually see his face. Only a quivering lip, an eye with tears. I can only seem to see parts of him, and not the whole picture.
Max stares at me, the head of Robert in one hand, and the head of Inali in another. He lifts them both out to me, shoving them towards me, as if a peace offering.
"You did this."
I don't know if he means I killed them, or I made him like this.
I back away, tripping and falling. My feet scramble to lift me off of the bodies beneath me. James, Samuel, Eric, Walela, and many more. So many bodies; bodies I don't recognise but know that I killed.
I can't breathe.
I spin and turn, staring into the eyes of Peter Pan.
He's holding me, and my eyes are wide open. My breath fills the room, and I can feel Peter breathing with me. His eyes stare into mine, confusion displayed across his face with ease.
Neither of us says anything, instead choosing simply to stare at each other. I don't know if there is anything to be said, other than explaining to him what is happening. Like I said though, show no weakness, show no fear.
Part of me wants him to ask, but I know he won't. His eyes have a question in them, but his lips say nothing. I can't decide if it's because Pan can't care, or Peter doesn't want to. Having a boy like him in my life is a struggle, because I want nothing more than to pour my soul into him, but I can't.
It's too dangerous to care about someone. Especially here, and especially now.
I can hear him swallow the spit in his mouth before he bites his lip.
I press my lips against his, choosing not to say anything. Maybe I can distract him with me instead of letting him see beneath my skin. There's very little I have left; not even my mind is my own. But my secrets are. Which is why Alison and Johnny are such big threats, because they know too much.
He kisses me back, biting my bottom lip as he pulls me in.
I lean up into it, pushing him down on to the bed. I can feel his smirk beneath my mouth. He tastes like pine and danger, and all I am anymore is the forest. There is no difference between Neverland and myself anymore, no distinction between human and earth. We are both magical forces anyway, so I don't really think much else matters after that.
"If you're having nightmares, I can stop it." Peter tells me.
I pull off of him, backing up. "I'm not having nightmares."
We can't get into this. We can't feel.
"Oh darling," he mocks, "and I've got the heart of the truest believer."
I scoff. "Obviously you don't."
"Maybe not." He begins. "But soon enough I will."
I almost laugh. Whatever that means.
"I can get rid of them." He tells me. With the flick of his finger the candle ignites, and its glow warms the room. "But it'll have to come at a price."
"All magic comes at a price." I repeat. "Just do it."
"It'll bring them out during the day, at least for the first bit." He tells me.
"Just do it." I repeat.
He places both of his hands on my temples, looking into my eyes. His are a beautiful green, and I can't help but wish to look into them forever. His left hand leaves my head, a white trail of thought moving along with it. It glows white, and seems to sprout between his hand and my head like a spider web. He shakes his hand, and I watch as it falls down, dissipating into the air.
"Glad that's over." I roll my eyes. "It was getting annoying."
He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, before spinning on the bed. "Did I tell you exactly what I had a nightmare about? Back when I caused the island to freeze over."
That was weeks ago, but I can still remember it. It was back at the old camp, and I could taste the cold in the air. Frost bite on my ear, snowflakes in my eyelashes, death on my tongue. Freezing to death isn't something you easily forget.
I shake my head, and he sighs. "I'm going to die."
My feet bring me out of the bed, backing away from him. "No you are not. That doesn't make any sense."
"I've been here almost two hundred years Charlotte. I should be dead twice over."
"No one ages here." I feel the cold rocks against my back.
He gets up, but doesn't move closer to me. "All magic comes at a price. My time is running out. Unless-"
"What?" I ask.
"The war I've been talking about." He continues. "It will come soon. I have been waiting for a boy for over one hundred years. He has what I need to stay immortal."
"Then take it." I almost bare my teeth. "Take it."
He almost laughs. "So you're ready for a war then."
"I'm always ready for a war." I correct.
"But you'd go to war for me?" He asks.
I nod. I would go to war for him any day. Any and every day I would fight. That much has already happened multiple times over.
"Just for me?" He asks.
I reach forward, kissing him again. This time it's hungry, and I feel him lift me off of the ground. We need this, which I guess in a way means we need each other. I don't know whether to be thankful or ashamed.
"You already did the same." My voice comes out as but a whisper, a tantalizing secret as my lips move against his.
He was so close to war when I was nearly killed. After the fear run we were minutes away from fighting to the death. Seconds away from being the only people on the island, all because I died.
He runs his hands through his hair, backing up to the bed and sitting down. "This wasn't supposed to happen."
"What?" I ask, moving down next to him.
He looks at me, almost baffled. "You weren't part of the plan. The plan can't change, but it must adapt."
I don't understand the cryptic tongue he talks in, but I will pretend too. I probably won't ever reach a full understanding of how this island works.
"Well, if it's any consolation, this wasn't part of my plan either." I say.
Although I get the feeling it was part of someone's. This couldn't be a coincidence, not when my mother left me magical messages from beyond the grave, and told my child neighbour to protect me. If she were around I'd have so many questions for her. They have to hang in the air unanswered, as I can't even look for the answers.
"Charlotte, my plan is a hundred years old." He tells me. "My plan is older than your whole family."
I scoff. "Maybe I'm a hundred years old."
"As if." He laughs. "You're magic, but not omnipotent."
"Does that mean you are the only omnipotent person there is?" I counter.
He shrugs. "In this realm, or in yours? Because the answer to both is yes."
The weight of his own head on his shoulders must be massive. How he supports his own ego is beyond me, but maybe one day I'll actually get it. My ego is pretty big too, but still not quite the size of his.
"Nothing can stop us." I tell him. "My magic will get better, and then we'll be unstoppable."
"I'm already unstoppable," he corrects me. "I don't need your help."
"That's what you think." I tease, straddling him. "But you're so weak."
He cocks an eyebrow. "Really?"
Swiftly, I remove my dagger from my cloak, and press it against his neck. The hilt of the blade is cold, and I can only imagine what the metal feels like against his sweet neck. He doesn't have a hair in sight, instead having soft skin.
"Really." I tell him. "I've got you exactly where I want you. Peter Pan, I could kill you."
He moves closer to me, putting his lips on mine. I back the knife away, so that I don't cut his throat open, but pull my lips away.
"I would kill you." I tell him. "But then I'd be resigned to having to kiss Felix, and I'm not up for that."
He laughs lightly. "Is that so?"
I nod, quickly kissing his lips. "Trust me, you already were a last resort."
"Was I now?" He chuckles. "If anything you were a last resort."
"Please, I was your first choice." I roll my eyes, lightly shoving him as I put my knife away. "Why else would you have brought me here?"
He shrugs. "I like interesting things. And you're interesting. A girl who can hear magic only meant for boys, who has magic in a place where no one has magic. It sure is interesting."
"No one from my home has magic?" I demand.
"It's called the Land Without Magic for a reason." He teases.
Is it? There is no magic where I am from, but I had it. And my mother before me as well. Whoever my grandmother was, did she have magic? My mother always told me she fled her home, but never told me where that was. It had never occurred to me it might have been out of the world.
"Is it only my world and Neverland?" I ask.
He shakes his head. "There's many more. Wonderland, Oz, the Land of Untold Stories, and my world are the ones that seem to get the most people moving in and out of them. I've got a neat habit for moving through them like nobody's business."
I knew there was another world, but there's more than I expected. Is every story I've ever heard true? None of them seem to take place in my world though, which begs the question.
Why do I have magic?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ooh, I like this one. What was your favourite part? The vulnerability? The teasing? The mystery? The warmth between them? Personally, I love the teasing. It's just so fun and in character and I love them just being casual.
Why do you think Charlie has magic? I already know, but I'd like to know what you think.
For now, dream well, and I'll see you Friday.