Well into the middle of the night, the twins decide to go for a run because apparently that’s something they do often. Vane and Cherry have returned from their mission, but Vane is in a bad mood and so is Cherry, though their bad moods are the difference between chocolate and a volcano.
I decide it’s best to leave them both alone and wander the halls of the house looking for something to occupy my time. Pan must be here somewhere.
I find a separate set of stairs just beyond the entrance to his tomb and there’s a distinct sound coming from above, like someone is riffling through things.
I go up.
Peter Pan is there, pulling open drawers in a large cabinet. His back is to me, but I’m absolutely sure he’s immediately aware that I’m there.
“What are you looking for?” I ask.
“Something to draw my shadow to me.” He digs inside another drawer. “I need a tether or I will be endlessly chasing the damn thing.”
“And that tether is here?”
“I’m not sure. Possibly.” He slams the drawer shut and yanks open another.
This room is at the top of the tower and has a large circular window to match the one in the library. Except this one is nearly at floor level so when I go to it, it feels like I’m looking through a portal into another world.
The ocean is painted in silver strokes of moonlight. To the north is the craggy cliff of Marooner’s Rock. And from this height, I can make out some of the glowing swirls in the turquoise lagoon.
I jump when another drawer slams shut.
“Is Vane all right?” I ask.
I look over my shoulder to find Pan facing me. “Honestly? I’m not sure.” He goes to a little end table beside a wingback chair and yanks open the single drawer in it.
“Did I do something wrong?” I ask and skirt the room. “Tell me how I should be around Vane.”
I’ve always prided myself on being able to figure people out. But Vane is an exception and it’s frustrating me beyond reason.
Pan pauses in his search. “I’m not sure there is a way to be around Vane.” He returns to digging.
“Has he always been like that?”
“Ruthless? Prickly? Yes.”
“Is it just the way he is or the shadow?”
“I wouldn’t know. I didn’t know him before he’d claimed it.”
“And he’s not from this island?”
“No.” He goes to a tall desk shoved beneath a run of bookshelves and upends a metal box. Several papers and trinkets fall out, but not what he’s looking for, apparently.
“Where does he come from?”
“Another island.”
“Yes, but which one? Cherry said there were seven?”
“Cherry talks too much.” He yanks a book from the shelf and holds it up by its spine and gives it a shake.
I think back on what Vane told me about his island, how it breaks girls like me for no good reason other than to watch them crack.
And I’m sick of it, he’d said.
The way he’d held me that night…
Just thinking about it makes my entire body tremble and my stomach fill with butterflies.
I don’t know how to reconcile that Vane with the same Vane that bruised my throat and held me against the wall.
Not that I mind him being rough with me.
But how far does his shadow have to take it? What is the line and what happens if he crosses it?
Pan tosses a book to the floor, grabs another.
“Pan?”
“Yes, Darling?”
“Is Vane sleeping with Cherry?” I try to keep my voice light, but it’s dripping with jealousy.
He stops searching for this magical mystery object and looks over at me. “The Death Shadow needs to chase something. It needs to spend its energy. If it doesn’t, it’ll start killing things.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“He was,” he says. “I’m not sure if he still is.”
“I meant what I said. I don’t want to share any of you.”
“I’m not sure you can make that condition with Vane.” He plucks a third book, gives it a shake, and tosses it.
“How do I get to him?”
He tosses the next book and the one after that.
“Pan.”
He finally stops. “You want to know how to get to the Dark One? Stop trying.” He resumes his search.
I’m not sure if Pan knows it or not, but I feel like he’s just given me the secret codex for Vane.
It makes so much sense now.
Of course someone like Vane hates when someone tries too hard and I’ve been throwing myself at him. Cherry has been doing the same thing and Vane can barely stand her.
God, I’ve been so stupid.
From now on, he’s getting my cold shoulder. So cold it’ll burn.
Pan grabs a thick leather-bound book and thumbs through its pages and comes to an abrupt stop.
“Did you find it?” I ask him, slightly curious as to what this thing is.
He comes over to the desk and drops the book, lets it flop open to reveal a cut out in the pages. “I don’t remember putting this here, but I am forgetful these days.”
There’s a smooth black seashell inside the hideaway.
“Is that it?”
“That’s it.” He plucks the shell out. Its body is curled in on itself like a wave.
“It doesn’t look special.”
“It’s from the lagoon.”
“Oh?”
“Your mother gave it to me.”
I frown up at him. “Really? How did she come to possess a magical seashell?”
He grabs my hand and opens it up, setting the shell inside the cup of my palm. It’s much warmer than I would have expected and holding it makes my skin tingle. “How old was your mother when she had you?” he asks.
The way he says it, it doesn’t sound like a curiosity. More like a trivia question.
“Nineteen,” I answer.
He nods. “Remember me telling you I took her to the lagoon after Tilly got inside her head? That she was in pain and that I’d hoped the lagoon would help soothe her?”
Of course I remember. It was the first time I realized Peter Pan had a heart.
“Yes,” I answer.
“I took her because she was worried.”
“About what?”
“About the baby in her womb. About you.”
