Pan's Revenge

PAN’S REVENGE

by Anna Katmore

Copyright © 2014 by Anna Katmore

Smashwords edition

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GENRE: YA/FANTASY

Cover design
by Laura J Miller,
www.anauthorsart.com

Edited by
Annie Cosby,
www.AnnieCosby.com

All cover art copyright © 2014 by Anna
Katmore

FOR AN
ENDLESS
moment we just look into each
other’s eyes. Bile rises in my throat. Probably in hers, too,
because she swallows hard and her lips start to tremble. I reach
out and caress her cheek. “No tears. Not tonight,” I whisper. “Let
me remember you with a smile, Angelina McFarland.”

She sniffs and the corners of her mouth tilt
up, but it’s forced. Finding a hold on the net behind the
crosspiece, she takes a cautious step toward me then flings her
arms around my neck. I can’t let go of the net, or we’d both tumble
to the ground. It doesn’t matter. I wrap my free arm around her
waist and crush her to my chest. “I’ll miss you,” I breathe into
her ear.

“
Just don’t
forget me, Jamie.”

“How could I ever?”

Against the skin on my neck I feel her tears.
They break me. I reach for her chin and tilt her face up, brushing
the wet trail on her cheek away with my thumb. Then I kiss her one
last time. Only our lips touch for a long tender moment.

As she pulls away from me, I take off my hat
and put it on her head. Now I get what I want—Angel’s honest
smile.

Peter leads
her to the very edge of the crosspiece where she turns around to
face me. Her mien is brave, but her eyes are filled with sadness.
Slowly closing them, she takes a deep breath. I swallow against the
pain in my throat. Then she tips backward and falls.

Gripping the
net to my right, I rush forward and desperately cry
out her name. But it’s too late. Angel drops
toward the sea beneath her. Her arms are stretched out at her sides
and the skirt of her blue dress is flapping in the wind like it’s
waving goodbye. The pirate hat flies off her head. Swaying sadly,
it follows in the wake of her fall.

A moment later, the love of my endless life
submerges in the ocean.

I pray that she gets where she longs to
be.

THE WAVES CRASH together over Angel. There
was a smile on her lips right before she dove backward into the
ocean. I wonder if James saw it, too.

Against a coal black night sky with only a
few stars shining, he stands on the edge of the crosspiece, gazing
down. The wind ruffles his fair hair about his face. Horror and
sadness war in his eyes. My brother—devastated? This is new. Not
only to me, I realize, but also to the rest of his filthy crew.
Their heads tilted, they watch him standing there and mumble to
each other. Smee’s brows, coppery like his shaggy hair, are knitted
together as though he cares more than the others. I never thought
him to be more than a mindless wingman to Hook. Now I find myself
wondering if my brother actually has a real friend on board the
Jolly Roger.

Something
comes to the surface of the sea and catches my attention. Light
blue fabric. I draw in a sharp breath.
By the rainbows of Neverland
, it can’t be Angel’s body floating on the waves? Not
thinking, I jump overboard and glide down to the dark water. But
it’s not her body. It’s merely the dress she wore minutes ago. Our
last plan seems to have worked. If Angel is gone and she left the
dress behind, chances are she made it back to her world.

I fish the gown out of the water and look up
at James. His expression is hard. Unreadable. He turns and walks
back to the mast in the middle of the crosspiece, then he starts
descending. During our many battles in the past, I’ve seen him
slide down on a rope, take a reckless jump, or slice through the
sail with his dagger to drop to the deck. Tonight he’s climbing
down the net, taking one step at a time.

Also grabbing the black pirate hat with the
big feather that bobs sadly on the water, I return to the ship and
wait at the bottom of the mast. The captain’s boots clack
desolately on the floorboards as he steps down and turns to me. I
offer him the drenched dress and the hat, but he slowly shakes his
head.

I miss Angel. She was fun, she was different.
She was pretty and she smelled good. But when I look at Hook’s face
now, I know my grief is nothing compared to his broken heart. His
throat twitches as he swallows and unshed tears glisten in his
eyes.

This is probably not the best time to mention
that only little girls cry. When James dismisses us all with
silence and walks to his quarters, quietly closing the door behind
him, I hand the wet clothes to Smee and fly home.

WITH A GASP, I break through the surface of
the cold sea. Shaking the water out of my hair as I pedal and twist
in the water, the usual disappointment comes over me fast. A few
feet away, the Jolly Roger sways gently on the waves in the fading
afternoon light. Again, I didn’t make it. I couldn’t follow Angel
to London. Neverland doesn’t let me go.

Smee throws a rope ladder down the ship’s
side. As I climb over the railing, he has nothing but a smirk to
cheer me up. “How many times are you going to try this, James? Have
thirty-eight jumps not been enough?”

They weren’t jumps, they were falls. The
first time, I tried to do everything exactly how Angel had, and
then thirty-seven variations of that stunt. I dropped backward,
forward, headfirst, stiff like a stick…I closed my eyes, grabbed a
happy thought, grabbed a bad thought, a mean thought, no thought at
all, but heck, the ocean keeps spitting me out right where I dive
in each time. And after five weeks of dropping forty feet and
smacking hard on the water, my bones ache like I had an encounter
with the ship’s bow. I need a break.

“You’re right,” I agree with Jack and slip
into my boots, not caring about the wet leather pants or the
drenched white linen shirt I wear. “Enough trial and error. Bring
her back to the shore.”

Always skeptical, Smee cuts me a sidelong
glance from his place by the lowest mast. “What are you going to
do?”

“
Having a
chat with the fairies.”

He saunters over to me and gives me my hat
before tucking his hands into the pockets of his black pants.
“Cap’n, why did you let the girl go, if you can’t be without
her?”

Yeah, why again?
I shrug, my lips
compressed. But the truth is I’d rather be without Angel than see
her crying for her family for the rest of her life and know that
I’m the only one who could have changed that. “Sending her back was
the right thing to do.”

“And you’re doing the right things since
when?” the familiar voice of a boy mocks me from behind. I spin
around and face Peter Pan. Legs spread in a wide stance that is so
characteristic of the fifteen-year-old, he has his fists placed on
his hips and flashes a white-toothed grin from under a triangle
leather hat that clashes with his grasshopper green shirt.

“
Did you come
to play pirate, little brother?” I snarl, snatch the hat from his
head and toss it over to Fin Flannigan, its rightful owner who’s
scrubbing the decks with Scowlin’ Scabb and Whalefluke.

I haven’t seen Peter since the night that he
helped me send Angel back, and I don’t complain about it. We worked
together for a good cause. It doesn’t make us friends or bring us
any closer than we were before. The only difference—I decided he
deserves a break for helping Angel and I’m not trying to kill
him…for now anyway.

Peter rakes a hand through his light brown
hair, setting it back to its usual windblown look. “I came to ask
if you’re still right in your mind.”

“Oh.” Surprise overrides my annoyance. “And
what brings on this question?”

He reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls
out my father’s pocket watch.

Instantly, my interest in having Peter on
board returns. “You opened the chest?” I drawl.

He imitates my innocence. “It seems so.” Then
his features turn hard. “Now tell me what this shit is and why
you’ve been after it so badly.”

For a stunned minute, I stare at his face.
“You really have no idea, do you?”

Peter jerks
his hand away before I can reach for the watch. I catch a glimpse
of the long scar marring his upper right arm. An old wound that was
my doing. Regret is a nasty sting in my chest that I don’t care
for, so I shove the memory away. Peter flies a few meters backward
and stands across the deck on the railing. I know better than to
chase him. Instead, I head for the bridge and climb the stairs,
feigning nonchalance. “Did you open it?”

“The watch? Yes.”

“And what does it say on the inside of the
lid?”

“J.B.H.” His voice is nearer. My plan worked.
Peter is following me.

I glance over my shoulder and see him
hovering behind. “Right. J.B.H. James. Bartholomew. Hook.”

Flying over
my head, Peter lands in front of me, blocking my way to the helm.
“This is
yours
?”

Although my mother named me after my father,
she spared me his middle name Bartholomew. I roll my eyes at
Peter’s lack of noticing the obvious and drawl, “Yes, Peter. It’s
mine.”

If nothing else, my wry look and heavy
sarcasm get him on the right track. “It’s father’s pocket watch,”
he says, the spirit gone from his voice.

“Hey now, genius.” At my push, he steps
aside. Wrapping my fingers around the wheel’s handles, I steer the
Jolly Roger toward Neverland. Only the sun’s top curve still peeks
above the horizon, its light blinding me. I squint and glance over
my shoulder at Peter. “Can I have it now?”

“What for?”

“Souvenir.”

He quirks his brows. “I don’t think so.”

“I don’t care what you think. Give me the
watch.”

As I spin
around, Peter jumps back to safety.
“Nuh-uh!” He waggles his finger at me, gliding out of my
reach.

Yeah, it
would have been too easy.
I heave a sigh
and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Listen, Peter. Since you’re
nothing but a pain in my ass again, why don’t you just flitter back
to the jungle?” Without looking at him, I wave my hand dismissively
in the air. “Stick with those guys who can actually stand
you.”
And stay out of my
sight, for God’s sake.
I have more
pressing matters than breaking that stupid spell anyway. I must
find a way out of Neverland and follow Angel.

During the
past few days one thing has gotten clearer and clearer to me: I
can’t be without her. I didn’t even have the time to retrieve my
treasure from the cave in the rocks north of Mermaid Lagoon. But
Peter doesn’t know that I know so for now the treasure is as well
safe out there.

“Ah, the girl’s gone and you’re back in your
ever miserable mood,” Peter says. “How could I ever, even for a
minute, think that something had actually changed?”

Pressing my lips together, I give him a tight
smile and shrug.

“However, I can’t do that,” he tells me
then.

“You can’t do what?”

“Go back to the jungle.”

“Why the hell can’t you?”

Peter lands on the railing, sits down
cross-legged and props his elbows on his knees, resting his chin in
his cupped hands. “It’s boring there.”

“
What the f—”
A sudden realization strikes and I rock with laughter. “You damn
little bastard. You miss her!”

“Who?” he snaps, but the way he tenses and
his cheeks turn pink proves he knows exactly who I mean, and that I
was right.

“You only came here because you wanted to see
if I found a way to bring Angel back.” My laughing ebbs off. “You
knew I was trying.”

“You’re delusional.”

“
Am I?” I
step toward him and give him a push he didn’t expect. Knocked
backward off the railing of my ship, he drops a few feet but
steadies himself in the air quickly and shoots back up. I brace my
hands on the railing so we’re eye to eye. “Then tell me why you
suddenly prefer to hang out with me of
all
people, when you could
surround yourself with your crazy bear-friends and the sparkling
pixie instead.”