Page 79 of Losing Wendy

“Like a tapestry left unfinished,” I say.

“Exactly like that,” says Peter.

“And the Lost Boys? They’re here because each of them was infected? And when you brought them here, they recovered?”

Peter nods. He doesn’t say whether all the boys he brought to Neverland recovered. It makes me wonder if something about being in Neverland bolsters the body’s immunity, or if the Lost Boys are just a remnant of the group he tried to save from the orphanage.

The unsaid statement hangs between us, swelling in the humid air until I can hardly hold it in. “And Thomas? He was the original boy who got sick, wasn’t he? And he died anyway. And Freckles too.”

Peter turns away from me, staring blankly into the canopy. “The Fate warned me that our plan would not protect them from allpossible woes. But even Thomas’s death—this will sound cruel, but if you knew what was to become of him in our original realm, you would likely find his premature death a mercy.”

“Peter,” I say, hardly able to get his name out, “do you think that’s why they’re dying? Because they were supposed to die in their own realm? Because they weren’t supposed to escape?”

“I hope not,” is all he says, which isn’t at all comforting.

“And their memories? Why can’t they remember their time before Neverland?”

“The Sister and I thought it would be for the best, considering the things that happened to them in that orphanage.” He says it so flatly, it almost doesn’t register. Like when he wouldn’t answer my question about why the first warden had been easy to persuade.

I feel sick, but it seems wrong to pry about such private matters. So I pivot to the other question still rattling in my mind. “So why me? If this is the very Fate with which my parents made their bargain, why did she wish to give me to you?”

“That is a mystery, isn’t it?” says Peter.

“You said when you first arrived it was meant to be a punishment. What is the Fate punishing you for?”

Peter’s eyes twinkle. “Funny. I don’t remember saying you were a punishment.”

“It was implied.”

Peter just smirks, avoiding my question by saying, “The Sister has her own reasons for doing things. If I were to guess, it likely has more to do with something she wants than anything to do with me or you.”

A thought churns in my mind. I don’t love the idea of that creature having something she wants from me. “But if she wants something, why make a bargain with humans at all? Why not just weave it into my fate?”

“Human and fae fates are more complex than that. The Sisters themselves have some control over them, but you have to remember that there are three of them, so when the will of one diverges from that of the other two, she must become crafty to get her way. Yousee, we individuals sometimes move the threads ourselves in the Fates’ sleep. I imagine they find it quite frustrating indeed,” he says. A lovely defiance winks in the corners of Peter’s expression, in the way he clings to me all the more tightly.

“So you gave up your life in your original realm to watch over the Lost Boys?” I ask.

Peter shrugs. “It’s not as if I had much of a future anyway. At the end of the day, I got what I wanted, didn’t I? Not to find myself cast out on the street, begging and stealing food until I turned up in the ground, facing whatever horrible fate awaits me.”

I frown, sorrow for Peter overcoming my chest.

“And your shadow self?”

“I can only return to the other realms if I’m in that form, but it takes something away from me. The last bit of reason and self-control that keep my less desirable qualities in check.”

“Unless?” I say, remembering the night he took my hand in the clock tower.

“Unless I’m touching you, so it seems,” he says, his thumb drawing circles on my shoulder. “Though why I was provided that lovely little loophole, I can’t say.”

My throat goes dry. “That hardly seems necessary. The part about only being able to visit the other realms in shadow form, I mean.”

“I don’t believe the Sister ever wanted me to leave here willingly.” He winks at me. “She’s been known to think I’m flighty.”

“But you’d never leave the boys.”

Peter shakes his head, then after a moment, says, “I apologize for how I treated you when in shadow form. As I said, it’s me, but without any restraint. Without a moral code guiding my actions and desires. I am sorry for frightening you as a child, but I hope you believe me when I say I am not that being. Not always, at least. Not now.”

Again, I feel that swell of indecision surround me. There’s a gentle trust ebbing between us. There has been since the moment I not only let him drop me, but begged him. He caught me, didn’t he?Every time. If he meant me harm, at least in this form, he would show it. Still, the vision of the shadow creature that dwells inside him lurches through my memories, cutting through his words and swathing them in darkness, so I can’t tell which way is up. What is the lie and what is the truth.

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