Page 88 of Freeing Hook

WENDY

Idon’t sleep that night.

Usually, when I can’t sleep, I can pinpoint the exact place and time that my body is reliving. I know the exact reason it refuses to let me bury myself in the solace of slumber.

This is different.

I’m restless, my limbs jittery. When I wander my way down to the bunker where they keep the faerie dust, I’m relieved to find the guard standing on duty. He waves at me with a toothy grin.

“Miss Darling,” he says cheerfully. “Little late for ya to be wandering down here, ain’t it?”

He’s right. I usually pad down here first thing in the morning, as well as in the afternoon, when my brain has a difficult time focusing on tasks. My timing used to be because that’s when the cravings were the strongest. Now, as the stretches between intense cravings grow longer, it’s more habit than anything. I’ve come to look forward to seeing the guard. There’s a certain comfort to knowing I’d never make it inside the bunker. That the guard is always here to stop me. Always here to offer me a friendly smile.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I say, to which his smile twitches. “I would have thought someone else would have relieved you tonight.”

He shrugs. “Rainer was supposed to have scrub duty tonight but has a case of the trots, so Charlie had to fill in for him, meaning Schruin had to fill in for her, meaning I had to fill in for Schruin.”

“Right,” I say.

He offers me a wink before I leave.

The deck isn’t quiteempty. It still has to be manned at night. The waves don’t exactly stop just because the rest of us do. But it’s empty compared to this morning, and the crew working the night shift isn’t the type to snitch. So I slink toward the nearest mast, my fingers curling into fists.

It’s been ages since I climbed anything, so I hardly make it a few feet off the rungs before the weightless sensation makes me dizzy, sending shivers of needles throughout my body.

That’s fine. I actually prefer it this way.

Halfway up, I realize the mast isn’t quite so stable-feeling as my parents’ clock tower or the cliffs back in Neverland. It’s sturdy, but that doesn’t stop it from being rocked by the waves. On the way up, I often find myself moving with the rhythm of the sea.

Still, I cling tight, refusing to look down.

There’s a nest at the top of the mast, one that I have to maneuver my body to climb into. When I glance down at my feet to figure out where to place them, I end up getting a glimpse of the boat far below. I’m not exactly unaccustomed to heights, but usually the ground doesn’t move so much. Thankfully, there’s a gentle breeze tonight, so I’m able to gulp in several breaths of salt air to steady myself.

There’s little to see now that I’m situated in the wooden nest, not with how the moon is barely a sliver behind the clouds. But that’s no matter. I didn’t come up here to see anyway.

“I did give you a room, did I not?”

The familiar voice has me jolting, which is problematic given the way I’ve perched myself on the rim of the nest. Firm hands steady me before I can launch myself off the edge and end up nothing more than spatter on the deck beneath.

I look to my side to find Astor standing next to me, having removed his hands from my shoulders and back to his sides.

“I didn’t hear you climbing,” I say.

“Well, it is quite windy.”

“It’s not that windy.”

“Yes, Darling, but I thought it more polite to blame your lack of awareness on your surroundings rather than on you.”

I huff, pulling my coat taut and my scarf tight around my neck to protect me from the evening chill, but the corner of my lip twitches all the same.

The captain takes up the perch across from me. His legs are significantly longer, so they can’t help but tangle with mine. I try not to flinch at the feel of his legs wrapped around my ankles. Mostly because if the captain notices that we’re touching, he isn’t letting it show.

Astor keeps his hands in his pockets, staring at me like I’m a fleeting eclipse and not a girl he kidnapped then proceeded to befriend.

Befriend.

Friends.

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