Captain James Hook and the Siege of Neverland (24 page)

“It’s easy to gamble when one more loss puts you out of the game anyway.”
 

“Indeed it is,” she said as her eyes rolled black.
 

We covered our faces and turned away.
 

The presence of her gaze beat down on me like a hard rain.
 
I felt myself weaken, then… nothing.
 
The weight was gone.
 

I looked up and saw Jukes wading into the water.
 
He was waist-deep by the time I reached him.
 
I wrapped my arm around the larger man’s neck and pulled with all of my strength.
 
Jukes barely leaned back.
 
One shrug from the large man threw me to the sand.
 

“Would you gamble as much with his life?” she asked.
 
The mermaid swam up beside Jukes and dragged him down so that only his head was above water.
 
“I know him from your thoughts.
 
He’s a mixed bag, this William Jukes.
 
Almost as valuable a haul as you are.”
 

At that, she dunked him.
 
He resurfaced and gasped.
 
Panic seized his expression.
 

“No!” I shouted.
 
“You’ll get nothing out of this.”
   

Again, she dragged him underwater, this time for several seconds.
 
He came up to the surface with fresh scratches on his face and neck.
 
She rose behind him and drove his head below again.
 
“I get to watch you suffer.
 
You value your memory so much.
 
I hope this one lasts you a lifetime.”

I pulled my pistol and aimed it at her.
 
She dove to the right, freeing Billy Jukes.
 
He raised his head above water and swam to the shore.
 
I stretched out my hand for him, but missed as Jukes was dragged underneath.
 

Valuable moments passed without movement.
 

Without a plan or so much as a thought, I dove into the cove after my oldest friend.
 

It took me seconds to realize how stupid a move that was.
 
I was exposed.
 
Had she wanted me in the water, I just served myself up freely.
 

I drew a knife and readied myself for an attack.
 

None came.
 

I waited, suspended in the water as though time stopped with me.
 

Water pushed all around.
 
It was slow and I felt a second pulse, then a third.
 
The fourth pulse directed my attention down to a light beneath the rock where I was just standing.
 
I swam to it, lower and lower, until I came to an expansive underwater seascape.
 
Fish of all colors circled me.
 
For a moment, the rings of coral looked like the floor of the bay, but the size and distance were all wrong.
 
Not only that, but the water was far warmer here than at any other part of the island.
 

I followed the light up to the surface and found myself in a humid cavern.
 
I stepped up onto the rocky floor and walked toward the reddish-gold light that led me forward.
 

Something beneath my feet shifted and I dug my fingers into the black-brown dirt wall.
 

After a few steps, I came to the intersection of three tunnels, one on the right and the other two stacked atop one another on the left.
 
The glow was bright in all three.
 
I crawled into the tunnel on the right, but the rock scalded me and I had to back away.
 
I waved my hand at the opening of the tunnel on the bottom-left and felt the bite of heat after only a few seconds.
 
Finally, I stuck my arm into the tunnel on the top left and felt an uncomfortable, if bearable, heat.
 

I took off my coat and soaked it in the water again.
 
I then gripped the soft dirt and pulled myself up into the tunnel, which was a tighter fit than I would have liked.
 
Using the wet coat as a barrier for my hand, forearm, and knees, I ducked and crawled for what must have been thirty yards, adding in the rises and dips along the way.
 
I came to an opening and the reddish-gold light poured into the cramped tunnel.

Four feet of rock extended from the tunnel into the open cavern.
 
I looked out over the ledge and heat washed over me.
 
I covered my face and looked again.
 
About sixty to seventy yards below, a pool of volcanic rock churned expectantly.
 
I stood upright in the furnace and looked for my next move.
 

There were several openings the rock wall on the far side.
 
I walked toward them.
 

As I passed an opening on my right, a gust of air blew past me.
 
Moments later a second gust of wind blew in from the same opening.
 
I jumped past the opening before the third gust, then turned and looked into it.
 
There was a pale white light at the end of the tunnel, but I was unable to make it out before a pillar of steam pushed out a fourth gust.
 
I waited for the release to end before I looked in again.
 
This time I saw rushing water and jagged rock wide enough for a ship to sail through.
 

Thoughts turned in my mind as I made out my position on, or rather in, the island.
 
At the end of that opening was the north cave, which couldn’t be more than seven hundred yards from where I stood.
 
Water must flow into a break in the rock where it meets the volcanic core of the island.
 
Steam rises to the top of the mountain and makes the fresh-water waterfall.
 
I smiled, satisfied with my observations.
 
I had to tell Starkey.

I continued around to the far wall and passed through a tall vertical crack in the rock.
 
The jagged passage widened the further I traveled.
 
The red light faded behind me and a blue light spilled in at the end.

The passage opened to a rocky dome.
 
Ripples of blue light broke through the water and danced on the walls and ceiling.
 
I looked over the edge of the narrow path and saw tiny orbs embedded in the rock.
 
I knelt down to the bank and watched the orbs pulse.
 
There were thousands of them, enough for centuries of lost souls.
 

Water surrounded a narrow pathway that led to a mound in the center.
 
On the mound was a smoking iron cauldron.
 
I walked to it, but stood a good distance from the giant pot.
 
Green and purple steam flowed over the edges and kissed the gentle licks of fire beneath it.
 

“Beautiful, yes?” a dark voice said behind me.
 

I whipped my head around and caught the long auburn hair and slight frame.
 
For a beat, my heart leaped, but it was only for a beat.
 
The body of Gabriel walked to the large pot and peered into it.
 

“Your cauldron is boiling over,” I said.
 

“It does that from time to time,” she said in a voice now richer than before, deeper.
 
“And it’s not mine.
 
I am watching it for someone.”

She turned to me and again I took note of how her body moved.
 
Her walk, the confident and relaxed hang of her shoulders, the whole way she carried her body was different.
 
This woman was no more Gabriel any more than she could have been Emily.
 

She smiled at me.
 
“You’re thinking of her again, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I said.
 
“Among other things.”

“Are you disappointed that I’m not her?”

I paused for a moment, “Yes.”
 

“Good,” she said.
 
“You’re of no use to me if you’re lost.”
 

“Am I to perform some service for you, Morgan le Fay?”
 

At that the woman stopped short.
 
Her eyes narrowed and she breathed deep, slow breaths.
 
Even the water stilled its movement.
 
“How did you know?”

“Bertilak referred to the time you sent him to terrorize your brother.”
 

“Half-brother,” she corrected, “and that harlot of a wife of his.
 
What did he say exactly?”

“He called himself
the terror of Arthur’s table
.”
 

“Ah,” she said.
 
“The man likes to boast.”

“Yes, he
did
.”
 
I let my words hang in the air until I saw understanding in her eyes.
 
“Another clue was Gabriel’s behavior, which you seemed to put an end to.”

“Yes,” she said, placing a hand on her lower stomach.
 
“About her behavior.”

I paused for a moment to consider her meaning.
 
“I am no Gawain, nor am I to be your new Lancelot.”

“Beyond any doubt,” she said, assessing me as though for the first time.
 

“But if nothing ages here…”
 

“Nothing?” she asked.
 
“Plants don’t grow?
 
Beasts and men have stopped multiplying?”
 

She was right.
 
Ivy crept up the castle walls.
 
That one Lost Boy became more of a man each time I saw him.
 
Even Tiger Lily spoke of the ill-fated birth of one of her tribe.
 
Growth was everywhere, as present as death.
 
I tried to make that realization fit into how I was certain the island worked, but came out the other end more confused than before.
 
Bertilak and Gabriel said that they learned to stop asking questions.
 
Maybe they were right.
 
Complacency presented itself as an option and I tore it down and burned it in my mind.
 
Some may find comfort in yielding to what they don’t know or can’t control.
 
I am from a different stock.
 

Morgan le Fay cleared her throat and I saw her examining me again.
 
When I was nine, a dog snuck in behind the back gate of our house and started digging in the grass.
 
There was no bone.
 
There were no rabbit holes.
 
It just dug for three hours.
 
I watched it the whole time, wondering what, if any, thought was going through its head.
 
Morgan le Fay had the same expression on her face now as I did then and I grew angry.
 
“What?”
 

“This discussion will happen, but at another time.”

“That’s just fine,” I said.
 
“I’m here for Billy Jukes.
 
The mermaid took him from me.”
 

“He is surely dead by now.”

“I don’t think so.
 
He has his memory.
 
He’s useless to her dead.”

There was a splash to my left, followed by a familiar voice.
 
“Why not barter for him?”

Instinctively, I looked in the direction of the voice and was met by the two dark eyes of the mermaid.
 
It only took a moment, but I was transfixed.
 
My heart soared.
 
I approached, ready to give myself to her fully.
 
Everything that I was belonged to her.
 
I saw that now.
 

“No more.”
 
Morgan le Fay’s voice pierced my trance and I shook my head clear.
 
My wits returned and I cursed my frailty.
 

“You interfere still in our ways,” the mermaid said.
 

“You are a parasite, Yara,” Morgan said.
 

The mermaid snarled.
 
“You use my name so freely?
 
We belong here.
 
You are a faded memory.”

“One beyond your grasp.”

“For now,” the mermaid said.
 

“Ladies, I’m flattered at the attention,” I said, but stopped short when I saw the look in both of their eyes.
 

“You are meat and trade,” Yara said.
 
“That is the extent of your worth to me.”
 

“I still have use for you,” said Morgan le Fay.
 
“But I can adjust my plans if you grow bothersome.”

I raised my arms in surrender and said, “That’s all well and good, but twenty men are going to leave Neverland through the waterfall in forty-seven verses.”
 

Both women looked at me curiously.
 

“You lie,” Yara said.
 

“Are you sure of that?” I asked.
 
“Can you afford to be wrong?”

“What are you talking about?” Morgan asked.
 

“His men sing constantly like birds.
 
I do not know why,” Yara said.
 
Her eyes were still as black as coal.
 
I watched them move and focus.
 
Even though Morgan loosened their hold on me, they were no less fascinating.
 
“He is threatening to have them take back their memories.
 
It is foolishness.
 
We will have all of them soon.”

“Not if we leave.”