Page 69 of Freeing Hook

“Not talk to them,” says the man. “The Nomad’s been there, to the realm of the dead itself. Made friends…and enemies…of those past.”

The hairs on my arms stand on end, but my shrill laugh sounds convincing enough. “And we’re supposed to take your word for it?”

“Lady Carlisle did.”

I bite my lip.

“And who else have you told?” asks Astor.

The man peers up at him with glittering eyes. “Now, you know I can’t tell you that. But don’t get to thinking I’m the only one other than Lady Carlisle who knows.”

“Perhaps you’re bluffing so I won’t kill you to keep it a secret,” says Astor. “As it is, you’re no good to me, dead or alive.”

My breath catches. “Astor—”

“Close your eyes, Darling. Unless you’d like to do it yourself.”

In the end, I leave the room. I tell myself it’s because I hold all life sacred and that it bothers me that Astor’s taking one.

But really, I just don’t want to witness another throat slit by Astor’s hand.

It reminds me of what he is, who he’s killed, and why. And for reasons I don’t care to admit to myself, I don’t want to associate any of that with Astor anymore.

When he’s done, he climbs out the window, following me, wiping the blood off his blade and onto his pants before he sheathes it.

Then he sneaks a glance at me. I’m expecting him to scold me. Or mock me for being unable to watch him kill that man. Or perhaps ask me what came over me. Why, for a moment, I became someone else.

Instead, he says, his green eyes glittering, “Well done, Darling.”

Then he offers his arm and escorts me away.

CHAPTER 28

WENDY

Since Astor gave the crew commands to meet us in Naverough if we hadn’t returned to the ship by midnight, we have to cut inland. While the ship will have traversed easily around the bay and into the harbor of the next city, there’s a mountain range separating the two. Astor assures me that the trek is manageable, especially by horse. There’s a mountain pass that cuts through the range. As it is, it will take us hours to arrive.

The idea of spending so many traveling hours with Astor at first has me wriggling in the saddle, unable to still myself. Once the adrenaline of interrogating Vale dies down, the reality of the night’s events crashes to the forefront of my mind, one grisly scene after another competing for attention.

We killed Arthur Carlisle. Well, Astor killed Arthur Carlisle, but I might as well be an accomplice. We’ll have made enemies—anyone who might have had unfinished business with Carlisle and paid up front. Not to mention his wife, who likely still maintains enough connections to hunt us down.

She knows who I am. And she knew enough about Peter’s whereabouts to contact him, though I’m still unsure how she managed that. I’m still convinced she doesn’t know how tojourney to Neverland; she said she used a contact in this realm, probably someone Peter knows from the errands he runs for the Sister. But still.

If I was going to predict anyone to have the tenacity and resources to figure out how to reach Neverland, it would be her.

Wendy Darling had taken her husband.

The only question is, how far will Lady Carlisle go to exact her revenge?

I consider the lords and ladies I met growing up, those who were friends, or at least ran in the same social circles as my parents. Few of them seemed happy together. Even those who pretended, batting each other on the shoulder and holding hands in public. Those were the couples often found slinking away from each other’s grips once they thought they were out of sight.

Lord and Lady Carlisle had put on a pretense of being infatuated with one another, but surely most of it was for show. The pair might have operated as incredible business partners, but there can’t have been love between them. Surely not. Not when Lord Carlisle seemed so calm, so pleased, knowing exactly what his wife was doing with one of his dinner guests in his own home.

Business partners. Business partners with wedding bands.

That’s all they had been. Surely.

I comfort myself knowing that in a place like Laraeth, Lady Carlisle will be the sole inheritor of her husband’s estate. Perhaps she’ll see Arthur’s death as an opportunity, rather than a reason to seek vengeance.

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