Page 16 of Freeing Hook

I frown, and once he’s gone, signal the roots to sweep me away.

The plate is hidden poorly.I only had to circle halfway around the reaping tree’s base to find it, covered in pine needles atop a stump. After picking aside a few of the pine needles, I realizeSmalls has left over half of his portion on the plate. I’d be tempted to be annoyed by this, given Smalls whined to me about needing extra, except something rustles near the tree line.

Instinct has me slipping around the curve of the reaping tree, just in time for the sound of footsteps to approach. It’s dark out, but when I peek around the trunk of the tree, the glowing orbs on its limbs illuminate the stranger well enough.

And the fact that her wings are glowing.

The next night,when Smalls leaves a plate of food for the wild faerie, I’m already waiting.

Unfortunately, the boy waits around for a while, whistling with his hands in his pockets. I wonder if he’s developed a crush on the faerie, if he’s ever seen her, or if he just makes up a beautiful female in his head.

Well, if a beautiful female is who he’s picturing, he’s certainly not wrong.

I’d been a bit dumbfounded last night when I first laid eyes on her. It didn’t really matter how many times I recited to myself that her beauty was simply a glamour meant to entice her prey.

It had been an exercise in self-control not to go out to her.

I’m beginning to think I might have given Wendy too hard of a time for falling so easily into Peter’s clutches. Still, my sister was ensorcelled by the fae, and now she’s missing. In the end, that had been enough to keep my wits about me until Tink disappeared into the woods and out of sight.

Several minutes pass before Smalls’s attention span comes to its inevitable end. He yawns as he kicks over nearby rocks. One of them he punts with such force, it almost strikes me in the throat and I’m only just quick enough to dodge it. Eventually, the younger boy gives up on getting a glimpse of the rumoredfaerie and raps three times on the side of the reaping tree before it swallows him.

I waste no time sprinting to the stump. I’m not sure how long it will take Tink to get here. I’d wanted to carry out this part of the plan before Smalls got the plate outside, but he’d watched his leftovers like a hawk.

If I’m going to do this, this is my only shot. When I reach the stump, I stuff my hand into my pocket and pull out a parcel. Inside the piece of fabric is a baked onion, seasoned just like the one on Smalls’s plate. Except for one extra spice.

Tonight was Victor’s turn in the kitchen—his actual turn—so he’d helped me bake this onion separately. We’d chosen onion, because we figured it would hide the taste of rushweed the best.

Quickly, I swap the onion on Smalls’s plate for the one Victor and I enhanced, then slip back around the tree. I’m only hidden for moments before the footsteps return, and out of the woods prances a beautiful faerie with cropped blond hair and twinkling butterfly wings as sheer as a dragonfly’s.

Like last night, she stuffs the food into a makeshift satchel made of burlap, just like her clothes. She’s about to turn around, when her ears flick in my direction.

I startle, yanking myself behind the reaping tree and out of view. Heart pounding, I hold my breath lest she hear that too. Once my head feels as if it’s about to explode, I finally hear footsteps pad over the leaves and fade away.

Once I’m sure she’s gone, I glance behind the tree again.

And make eye contact with the feral faerie.

She offers me a smug look. She must have engineered the footsteps to make it sound as if she was walking away. Sure she’s about to rip me to shreds, I go for the dagger at my side.

But then the faerie does something I’m not prepared for.

She winks.

CHAPTER 6

WENDY

Ifiddle with the quaint metallic key, turning it over in my fingers. I unshackled myself as soon as the captain left the room, but now that I’m free to roam about, I don’t seem to know what to do with myself. After stretching my sore wrist out, I lift myself to my feet, wary of my balance. I’m somewhat lacking in the coordination department at the moment—a mixture of having been bedridden for days and the unpredictable sway of the sea below the ship.

There’s a nervous energy wound up in my chest, a constant ticking, except I’m unsure what the clock is counting down to. Whatever the captain needs me so desperately for, I suppose.

I should be doing something. Devising an escape. Finding a way back to my brothers. But I’m paralyzed by the daunting task of figuring out where to start. It would be foolish of me to think I’ll be getting off this ship a moment before Astor wills it. Even if I wander up to the deck, it’s not as if I can simply toss myself overboard and swim to shore. I could try to get my hands on more faerie dust and fly away, but I’m painfully aware of my limitations when it comes to my ability to control the quantity I consume.

Flying away won’t do me much good if I have no concept of where I am in space.

So I pace about the captain’s chambers, a poor attempt at tricking my body into thinking it’s at least doing something.

John is likely frantic right now. At least, in the way he gets frantic—a frenzied sort of focus, undeterred by his environment until the problem is solved. But I’m gone, and he won’t be getting me back anytime soon. I’ve gone and left him, just like our parents did. Left him to care for Michael on his own.

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