I've lost track of how long it has been. Ten years? Twenty years? How many more moons must I wait for him to return? No, I have given up on Peter coming home. What I truly want is to come out of this ridiculous hiding. Tinkerbell says I have to stay away from the Lost Boys until the right moment. But when is that? If Peter were in my position, he would be out flying everywhere, doing whatever he wanted, and certainly not what Tink commanded. No, my brother would never let himself be limited to nighttime flies and this painfully small, burnt up house filled with equally painful memories.
Well, not too painful. Remembering isn't the unhappy thing, the fact that this place is filled with cobwebs and dust. No one has played in here for I don't know how long. No nights have been filled with soothing stories from Wendy. No Lost Boys for me to sing to sleep. Just dust. Dust and memories.
While braiding my hair, sitting in Wendy's chair, I wonder what color Peter's hair is now. Would it still be flaming red like mine, slowly turning lighter, or has it become grey through time? It's always a scary thought that my little brother is well over ten years my elder. I slowly turn to face the mirror and stare into by azure eyes. All these questions about Peter and I still haven't dared wonder the most important. Does he remember all of this? If I could look into his eyes, ignoring the possibility that they've also greyed with age, I know I would be able to tell. If he remembered, no matter how dim, he would still have that spark of mischief and adventure he once had. I look away, not letting myself think the worst.
My mind wanders to the Lost Boys, and how they cannot function without a leader. So who took Peter's sword? I knew it couldn't possibly be one of my boys. Nibs, Slightly, Curly and Tootles were all gone from Neverland. The only boy I could consider was Thud Butt, only he would never have the courage to stand up and take charge on his own. No, someone would have to tell him that he's the leader for him to accept it. It had to be someone new, someone just as cocky as Peter was.
"Well whoever it is, he won't be in that position as soon as I get the 'okay' to leave here…" I chuckled to myself as I finished with my waist-long hair.
I don't know how much time had passed, but I jumped at Tink yelling my name from above.
I've learned from many times of blinding myself not to look directly at her while flying around, so I keep my eyes cast down.
"If you're here to check that I'm still in this cage you call a house, then here I am."
The pixie landed on the table across from me and huffed in exhaustion and, from hearing my jab, irritation, "First off, this is a house as you do recall. Second, it isn't a cage; I just don't want you to be seen…"
"Which you've not once explained the reasoning behind that." I remind her, which was ignored.
"And third," she continued, "I'm not here to check up on you. I need you to go to Cannibal Cove right now."
I look at her now, confused, "Why, all of a sudden…"
She looks past my shoulder to my rapiers and scimitar, "I would bring one of those."
My eyes grow wider, "You want me to infiltrate the Jolly Roger. Why?"
She locks her eyes on mine in full seriousness, "There's someone you need to meet."
I stand up and look down at her, "Is Peter back?" I raise my voice with excitement.
Not bothering to wait for a confirmation, I lunge for one rapier and turn quickly, only to be blinded by Tink right in my line of sight.
"No, Grace. Peter isn't here, well, not yet anyway. He will be, though. Soon." Her tone was urgent, like she didn't have time to explain.
Still rubbing my eyes, I ask, "If not Peter, then who do I need to see on that ship?"
Tink dimmed slightly so I could see her, "Your niece and nephew."