Page 1 of Veiled in Stars and Silver
Prologue
Wendy held her kiss in her palm—the little acorn button that had saved her life when the Lost Boys tried to shoot her from the sky. She sighed and dropped the acorn, which was bound to the necklace she always kept tucked under her dress, and stared at her cross-stitch, her mouth twisting in disappointment. It had been a year since she’d returned from Neverland with her brothers. She was already thirteen. And yet, some days, she’d give anything to return to the world of magic, to fly through the air with the boy that never grew up.
But she hadn’t seen Peter Pan since the day they’d returned. Not once.
She picked up her cross-stitch and tried to focus on the butterfly pattern. Had he forgotten her? It certainly seemed like it. At first, she’d told stories to her brothers every night, religiously, hoping Peter might return to listen. But as the months passed, and there was no sign of him, she went to her brothers’ room less and less.
It became too painful.
Of course, Neverland wasn’t all fun and games. There was a much darker side to the land of adventure. Pirates, and death, and… Hook. A shiver ran over her skin. But there was no reason to worry about him anymore. The Crocodile had gotten Hook. He was long dead.
And they were all better for it.
A pounding shook her wall, then her desk, coming from the hallway. The dark liquid in her inkwell sloshed threateningly. She rolled her eyes and moved it an inch away from her, then tried to keep a steady hand on her project. John and Michael were playing cricket in the house again. Ever since they returned from Neverland, their activities had become much more rough and tumble. They were driving Mother and Father insane. Not to mention Nana, who chased them around barking on such occasions, as if that would do anything to stop them.
On cue, the low woof of the Newfoundland reverberated through the house’s thin walls. She’d have to do something. Their parents were both in bed with a fever and weren’t up to reigning in her brothers. And Nana’s barks only made the neighbors angry.
She set down her cross-stitch and smoothed her hands over her dress, glaring at her poorly sewn project in triumph. “Guess you’ll have to wait.”
“Watch out!” The shout came too late. The cricket ball rammed into Wendy’s inkwell, the stopper flying off and upsetting the jar. Her heart sank as the liquid spread over her half-finished cross-stitch. A low growl emitted from her throat, and she snatched it up, but it was useless. Her project was destroyed.
Wendy’s breaths came fast as she pictured the caning she’d surely get from her teacher, Mrs. Crowley. Her knuckles were already red and sore from her last beating. She spun toward the doorway where her brothers stood with wide eyes.
“It wasn’t my fault.” John, ten-years-old and ever the coward, pointed at his younger brother, Michael.
“Hey!” Michael shouted, crossing his arms over his small six-year-old chest. His blond hair flopped too long into his eyes. “That’s not fair. You were supposed to catch it! And if Wendy didn’tinsiston having her own room, her desk wouldn’t be there, and this wouldn’t have even happened.”
John adjusted his spectacles. “Good point, Michael. I guess Wendy is too grown up for us.”
She threw her cross-stitch onto the floor and let loose a roar of rage, rushing for her brothers. They squealed and retreated down the hallway to their room. Wendy, who was taller, gained on them both. When they cleared the doorway, Michael jumped on his mattress, throwing his covers over his head as if it were a safe place. Wendy tackled John just as he was attempting to clear his own bed to put an obstacle between them. They landed hard onto the carpet.
“Ow, Wendy! Get off! We didn’t mean to!”
“You think Mrs. Crowley cares if you didn’t mean to? What is wrong with both of you? Ever since Neverland, you two have been acting like wild monkeys.”
“And you’re so mature, are you? Always staring at the silly button and crying over your precious Peter.” He fanned his face with his hand, his eyelashes fluttering. “Oh, why won’t he come and visitme? Doesn’t he care about me anymore? What I wouldn’t give to see Neverland one last time.”
Her cheeks warmed. “You little leech. You read my diary!”
He continued to mock her, pretending to cry over Peter. Wendy clenched her teeth. He was doing it to make her appear weak, like a helpless little girl.
She rose and jerked him to his feet. “That’s it, John.” She dragged him over to the window. “You believe you're such a brave, tough kid? Climb down the hedge. I dare you.”
John trembled, peering down at the lengthy drop to the garden below. “Now Wendy…”
“You think you’re as brave as Peter? You think I’m nothing but a sobbing girl? Do it.”
He squared his shoulders. “Fine. If you insist.” He reached out and grabbed the hedge, lifting his scrawny legs into it. The lattice work groaned. John’s face went white as a sheet, and he scrambled back onto the window’s ledge.
“Are you trying to kill me?”
Wendy gave him a nasty look and climbed out onto the lattice. The wood groaned under her weight. Focusing, she scurried downward. When the lattice pulled from the wall, her heart rose into her throat. She held onto the frame and jumped at the last minute, landing on the cool cobbled stone and leaping out of the way before the lattice hit the ground with a loud crash.
Mother and Father wouldn’t be happy.
“You’re insane!” John shouted at her.
She looked up and shook her fist at him. “If you ever read my diary again, you’ll regret it, John Darling. Do you hear me?”
