Page 5 of Devour the Dark

Someone did something they shouldn’t have, and their little sister, Lane, was murdered by the royal family as punishment. That’s when Vane hunted down and took on the Darkland Dark Shadow and killed the royal family.

His actions threw Darkland into civil war. But he was long gone by then, and so was the Crocodile.

Vane is fifth on my list of intriguing figures I’d love to study, just after Peter Pan, the Crocodile, and Hansel and Gretel.

So, really, going to the treehouse is to my benefit.

“Follow the main street from Darlington Harbor southeast,” Hook explains. “You’ll cross Mysterious River. By then you’re nearly there. Stay on the same road and it’ll lead you right to the house.”

“How long should we give you before we come looking?” Wendy asks.

“An hour? Maybe a little more. I’m not worried.” I go to her and give her a hug. Her shoulders tremble in my embrace. She’s trying to keep it together. She’s trying not to cry.

She has just escaped a kingdom that kept her prisoner, first in a cold cell, then in a castle.

She has left one fear for another.

I can’t shoulder that fear for her, but I can help her through it.

“It’s going to be okay,” I tell her.

She nods against my shoulder. I hear her take in a long breath to settle the tears.

Once, when a superior officer in the Everland Guard went too hard on me in a practice yard, it was Wendy who took care of me after. She thinks she is weak, often forgetting the kind of fortitude it requires to have compassion for other people when it’s so much easier to pretend they do not exist.

“Thank you, Asha,” she whispers.

When I pull away from her, her eyes are glassy.

“Thank me when I’ve brought the Crocodile his brother.”

Hook’s directions are accurate,giving me a flash of satisfaction.

I like facts and I like accuracy and I like rules and I like being able to depend on all three.

I’m standing in front of the treehouse within twenty minutes of leaving the ship.

All around me, the forest crowds in. Palm trees rustle in the ocean breeze. Ferns and local flora grow among the trees, dotting the landscape in a rainbow of colors.

Firecrackers and lilies and opalassos.

Neverland is considered a tropical climate. So unlike the Winterland Alps where I come from, where the air is always crisp, the water always cool.

I scan the treehouse directly in front of me.

It’s impressive, the name suitable.

A giant tree grows out of the middle of a house with a wraparound porch and several stories stacked haphazardly on top of each other. Several lampposts glow at the steps, illuminating the front door with warm light.

Crickets and spring frogs chirp in the dark.

Despite its size, the house feels cozy from this vantage point. Like a hazy dream come to life.

Hook has told me who I might encounter here, if not Peter Pan or Vane.

There are the twins, the fae princes, Kas and Bash. “Less vicious than Vane or Pan,” Hook said. “But no less dangerous.” Then Hook glanced at Wendy before adding, “Possibly Winnie Darling. I would be careful around her.”

“Why?” Wendy had asked, confusion knitting between her brows.

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