Page 125 of The Last Lost Girl

My feet are too heavy to lift. I forgot how many buildings there are on this ‘sea settlement’, as my sister calls it, and how far it is back to port. When he’s sick of watching me struggle, Hudson picks me up and carries me back to the ship.

The crew murmurs when he ascends the plank and asks Hudson if I’m okay, followed quickly by asking what’s wrong with me. Then they tell him Tinkerbell is in the crow’s nest, waiting.

He settles me in his bed, covers me with blankets that smell like him, and kisses my forehead. “Rest, Ava,” he whispers.

The jungle isn’t so bad at night. I’ve never seen any of the predators Peter says stalk us when we sleep. Not a single bear, wild boar, or tiger. The crocs don’t come this far inland, but they are dangerous along the shore and near The Cove. I haven’t figured out why they don’t bother the mermaids.

Peter says the mermaids scare them, but they don’t look scary to me. They’re pretty, and they love Peter, so they’re nice to all of us.

He says there are people whose ancestors lived on this island for ten thousand years and that they’re angry we’re trespassing, warning that they’re forming hunting parties to come look for us, and if they find us, they’ll take us back to their caves and treat us like friends just to fatten us up. He says they’ll eat us – one at a time.

I’m starting to think he’s made most of it up to have something to do. It can get awfully boring around here.

Lately, he’s been talking about pirates who sail around the island on old ships with black sails. I’ve never seen a ship, either. If I did, I would scream my throat raw, wave my hands, and throw sand. I’d set the whole island on fire to get their attention, if I could. I’d do whatever it took so they would come and rescue us.

I want to go home.

Peter says there’s no way for us to leave. He claims he’s been here for years, but he’s the same age as the rest of us, so I think he’s lying about that, too. I can’t remember how I got here, though…

Hudson sits with Pan in the clearing beside the mushrooms that form the fairy circle, waiting on Tinkerbell to come back from wherever she ran off to this time. They’re talking about a new game. They’re always making one up.

Something new and extraordinary! Hudson exclaims. Something that would be hard for anyone to win.

Peter also likes winning. Especially if the game is difficult. He can brag for longer that way.

I can’t remember what their last game was, but Hudson won and Peter has been staring at him strangely ever since. Maybe it was yesterday. Or this morning.

“We’re thinking too small. What about a larger, grander game?” Peter asks, his voice swelling with excitement. “One with more moving parts than this clock.” He taps the pocket watch he wears on a chain around his neck. The chain is gold and the watch has a dark face. Peter’s smile turns wild. “One that lasts for years…”

“I can’t remember that long. None of us can but you. That doesn’t seem fair,” Hudson complains.

“Then I’ll remind you.”

“How to play the game? How can we trust you to be honest when you want us to lose?” Hudson asks shrewdly.

“You’ll lose because I’ll be better at it,” Peter boasts, grinning at Hudson.

It’s painfully obvious that Hudson is intrigued, but there is no way anyone but Peter can win a game like that.

Somehow, we’ve lost our shadows and so has Peter. But Peter remembers and we forget.

Peter says it’s because his mother is the Second Star, and that stars see everything and forget nothing. He says she lets him borrow her memory so he won’t forget her.

I don’t believe the star is Peter’s mother, but I think he wants all of us to think he has one, and for us to think we don’t. He’s mad that I still talk about Mama. Mad I remember that she’s real, even if I forgot her voice and what her perfume smells like.

I still remember that she wears it every day. That I like it and Daddy loves it. Every night when he comes home, he wraps her in a big hug and tells her she smells good. I don’t remember what Daddy’s voice sounds like, either. I’ve forgotten his smell.

I don’t like the way Hudson looks at Peter. It’s like he’s deciding if he could win in a fist fight if Peter balled his hands. Hudson is smaller than Pan, and I don’t think he’d win. Unless he’s meaner than he seems.

I don’t think Peter likes the way Hudson is looking at him either, because he watches him like he expects Hudson to speak. Which is what Hudson does in the end.

“What kind of game?” Hudson asks.

“We’ll tell the Lost that they have to choose sides, mine or yours,” Peter explains. “Then we battle over treasure. The one who captures the treasure wins and becomes the leader of the Lost.”

There’s no way Peter would give up that title. Doesn’t Hudson see that? Peter is baiting him.

Hudson leans back on his hands. “What kind of treasure?”

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