بخش 35

CHAPTER 68

CONVERSATION IN A TREE

PETER AND MOLLY sat next to each other high in an oak tree on the west side of Kensington Palace, shoulders just touching, listening intently for sounds of the men searching for them. They’d made a lucky landing on a wide limb and had managed, by grabbing nearby branches, not to topple off.

At first they’d sat tensely, listening to the searchers shouting nearby. But as the shouts faded into the distance, Peter and Molly began to relax. They were quiet, yet intensely aware of each other’s presence. Finally Peter broke the silence with a whisper.

“Are you all right?”

“Thanks to you, yes,” whispered Molly. “And you? You must be exhausted from flying us both.”

“I’m fine,” said Peter, though he was in fact very tired, and doubted that he could fly at all right then.

Well, I’m not fine, said Tink, alighting on a branch behind Molly.

“What was that?” said Molly.

“Tinker Bell!” said Peter, happy to see her back.

“Who?” said Molly.

“You met her once,” said Peter. He reached past Molly and plucked Tink from the branch.

“Thanks, Tink,” he said.

Tink didn’t answer. She stood on Peter’s palm with her arms folded; her usually golden glow had a reddish tinge, which told Peter that she was not in a good mood.

“Oh, my! Yes!” said Molly, studying her. “I remember now—the little companion bird that Father gave you back on the island.”

Tink, who did not at all care for the phrase “little companion bird,” made a discordant sound.

“Tink,” said Peter, blushing. “You don’t mean that.”

Yes I do.

“You can understand her?” said Molly. She looked back and forth between Tink and Peter. “What’s she saying?”

Tell her she’s a big stupid cow who nearly got us killed.

“She says she’s delighted to see you again,” said Peter.

“And I’m delighted to see you,” said Molly, extending the tip of her pinky toward Tink. Tink, keeping her tiny arms folded, turned haughtily around in Peter’s palm so she was facing away from Molly.

“She’s shy,” said Peter.

“I see,” said Molly doubtfully. Turning her attention back to Peter, she said, “Peter, I am so, so glad to see you.”

Peter blushed again, grateful that the darkness hid his reddening face.

“I have so much to tell you,” Molly went on. “Something dreadful is happening. These strange men have taken my mother, and my father is gone and I don’t know where he is, and the maid attacked me with a knife, and then that hideous dark thing back there was after me, and if you hadn’t shown up when you did, I—”

Molly stopped in midsentence, frowning. “But, Peter,” she said, “what are you doing here? I mean, I’m ever so glad that you came, but I thought you were going to stay on that island.”

“I was,” said Peter. “Until those men came.” He nodded in the direction of Molly’s house. “Slank is one of them.”

Molly shuddered. “I thought I saw him. Father told me that men had come to the island looking for the starstuff.”

“How did he know that?”

“He got a message from Ammm,” said Molly. Seeing Peter’s puzzled look, she added, “You remember Ammm, the porpoise.”

Peter nodded. He remembered now. Quite well, in fact, though it seemed like a very long time ago.

“They came to the island looking for starstuff,” he told her. “They kidnapped Fighting Prawn’s daughter and forced him to tell them that your father took the chest back to England. And I heard them say they planned to use you to make your father give it to them. So I decided I had to come to…to warn you.”

“But however did you get here?” Molly said.

“On their ship,” said Peter.

“With them? But…how?”

“I hid in a folded sail.”

“In a sail? All the way to England? Oh, Peter,” said Molly, putting her hand on his arm—an act that made his entire body tingle—“that was very brave.”

He’d have starved to death without me, noted Tink.

“What did she say?” said Molly.

“She agrees with you,” said Peter.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” said Molly. “But thank goodness you did! Had you not come…well…that…that thing in my room was about to get me. He called himself Lord…Lord…” Molly frowned, trying to remember. “Ombra, that’s it. Lord Ombra.”

“He, or whatever it is, was on the ship, too,” said Peter. “And the island. There’s something very strange about that one.”

Tink shivered.

“I know!” said Molly. “What is he?”

“I don’t know,” said Peter. “But he comes out only at night. He seems to be afraid of light. You saw what happened to him when Tink made herself bright in your room.”

And nearly killed myself, noted Tink, still facing away from Molly.

Molly looked questioningly at Peter.

“She says it’s difficult for her, making such a bright light,” said Peter.

“Oh,” said Molly. “Well, thank you, Tinker Bell. Thank you both. If you hadn’t arrived when you did, I believe that Lord Ombra, whatever he is, was about to—this is going to sound odd, but—I believe he was trying to do something…to my…shadow.”

Peter nodded slowly. “I think you may be right. On the island, I saw him do something, but I couldn’t quite figure it out.”

He described what he’d seen from the tree overlooking the Mollusk village, when the dark creature had seemed to suck Fighting Prawn’s shadow into him. Molly, in turn, told Peter about the warning—Beware the shadows—that her parents had received from their friend in Egypt.

“So this Ombra, then,” said Peter, “is he one of the Others?”

“He must be,” said Molly. “He said that they wouldn’t…they wouldn’t…”

Her words turned into sobs. Peter put his arm around her.

Tink made a sound that could be loosely translated as “Hmph.”

“He said,” Molly continued, her voice quavering, “that he wouldn’t harm my mother if I gave this to my father.” She reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out the square white envelope.

Peter looked at it. “Should we open it?” he said.

“I don’t know,” said Molly. “He definitely said I was to give it to my father. But I don’t know where my father is. When he found out that those men were coming, he said he had to move the starstuff.”

“Was it here?” said Peter. “In your house?”

“No,” said Molly. “It was being kept in a secret place here in London, but Father felt it wasn’t safe there. He said he needed to move it to a safer place, because the Others were sending something…what was the word he used…something formidable to retrieve it.”

“Ombra,” said Peter.

“Yes,” agreed Molly. “That must be what it was.”

“Did your father say where he was taking the starstuff?” said Peter.

“Just that it was a place away from London. He said that only a few Starcatchers know where it is. They’re going to keep it there until it’s time for the Return.”

“What’s the Return?”

“Do you remember when we were on the Never Land, and I first told you about starstuff?” said Molly.

“Yes,” said Peter. “I made you fly to prove it was real.”

Tink, very displeased that they were discussing something that happened before she came into being, turned a deeper shade of red.

“That’s right,” said Molly, smiling at the memory. “Well, I also told you that the Starcatchers, when they find fallen starstuff, send it away somehow, so the Others can’t get hold of it.”

“Yes,” said Peter. “I remember now.”

“That’s called the Return,” said Molly.

“Where do they send it?” said Peter.

“I don’t know,” said Molly. “Only the senior Starcatchers know about the Return. It’s quite dangerous, I believe.”

“But is it done, then?” said Peter. “The starstuff that Ombra and the Others are after—have the Starcatchers returned it?”

“I don’t know,” said Molly. “Father said the Return could happen only at certain times, so they’d have to wait for the next one. I don’t know when that is. Or where it is. But now I have to find him, Peter.”

“All right,” said Peter. “Then we’ll find him.”

“But how?”

“I don’t know,” Peter said. “But we will. I found you, didn’t I?”

Molly looked at Peter’s face for a moment by Tink’s soft, jealousy-hued glow. Tears slid down both of her cheeks. She squeezed his hand. He felt himself float perhaps a quarter inch off the limb.

“Yes,” she said. “You did find me. You’re a wonderful friend.”

Peter swallowed.

“All right, then,” he said. “Where do we start?”

“Well,” said Molly, wiping her tears, “it looks to me as though you start with a change of clothing. And a pair of shoes.”

Peter looked down with embarrassment at his filthy, stinking, tattered clothes, his bare feet black with mud.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I…this was all I—”

“Oh, Peter,” said Molly, squeezing his hand again, “don’t apologize! But you must be awfully cold.”

Peter, suddenly realizing how cold he was, shivered.

“We need to get you somewhere warm,” said Molly, who was coatless and quite chilly herself.

“I don’t think we can go back there,” said Peter, pointing toward her house.

“No, definitely not,” said Molly, remembering Jenna, and the guards who had turned into captors. She thought for a moment.

“I know,” she said. “We can go to George’s house.”

“Who’s George?” said Peter.

“He’s a friend of mi…of my family,” said Molly. “He’s very nice, in a stuffy sort of way. He lives not far from here, about a ten-minute walk across the park. He’ll help us, I’m sure.”

“Good,” said Peter, though he felt just the slightest bit troubled by the thought of George.

“All right, then,” said Molly. “Let’s get down out of this tree. Can you help me, Peter?”

“Of course,” said Peter, putting his arm around her.

Let her drop, said Tink.

“What did she say?” said Molly.

“She said to be careful,” said Peter, shooting a hot look at Tink to tell her to keep her bells to herself. CHAPTER 69

A CRY ON THE WIND

JAMES AWOKE WITH A START.

What was that sound?

Dawn was just breaking on Mollusk Island, the sun shooting pink rays into a brightening sky. Thomas lay next to James, sleeping soundly.

“Wake up,” said James, shaking him.

“What,” said Thomas, turning away, irritated.

“Listen!” said James.

Thomas, hearing the urgency in James’s voice, sat up, fully awake now.

“Is it the boars?” he said, his face filling with fear.

“No,” said James. “Listen.”

They remained silent for fifteen seconds, twenty…

Then it came again, a faint cry carried on the wind.

“That sounds like…Tubby Ted!” said Thomas.

“Let’s go,” said James.

In the desperate scramble to escape the wild boars, Tubby Ted and Prentiss had never made it to the boys’ underground hideout. After waiting hours for their friends to appear, James and Thomas had set out to search for them. They’d gone over the familiar island paths, but with no luck. Then they searched farther from their hideout, venturing deeper into the jungle, higher up the mountainside. Still nothing.

Finally they were forced to consider the awful possibility that the missing boys were not lost but had been caught by the boars—or the pirates. If the pirates had them, James knew he had to ask the Mollusks for help. He had planned to do so this morning.

But then he’d awakened to Tubby Ted’s cry for help.

Now James was sprinting through the jungle toward the sound, leaping over logs, holes, vines, rocks. Thomas, shorter-legged but quick, followed as closely as he could.

The next cry they heard was clearer, and closer.

“HELP!”

No question: Tubby Ted.

“SOMEONE HELP ME!!”

James opened his mouth to answer, but caught himself. It wasn’t like Tubby Ted to be up this early. What if this was a trap set by the pirates? If so, he and Prentiss were walking—no, running—right into it. James raised his hand and stopped Thomas, the two of them huffing to catch their breath.

“Why are we stopping?”

“Because,” James answered, “that’s Tubby Ted’s voice, and that, over there, is the sunrise. Have you ever known Tubby Ted to be awake at sunrise?”

Thomas shook his head.

“It could be a trap.”

“Good point.”

Tubby Ted cried out yet again. They were quite close now.

“What do we do?” Thomas whispered.

James thought about turning back, going to the Mollusks for help. But what if, when they returned, Tubby Ted was gone?

Another cry. James made up his mind.

“Watch where you walk,” he said, taking a tentative step off the trail, into the thick jungle. “There could be a pit or a snare.”

With their eyes on the ground, the two boys moved cautiously ahead, pushing through the dense vegetation toward the sound of the cries, which now seemed to be coming from only a few feet away; though in the tangled mass of vines and leaves the boys could see only inches ahead.

James and Thomas pushed toward the sound and stumbled into a clearing. Lifting their heads, they found themselves face-to-face with Tubby Ted.

Except that Ted’s face was upside down.

He was hanging from a rope tied to his ankles. His face was ablaze with bright red insect bites. Tears streamed from his eyes, but because he was inverted, they flowed down his forehead.

“Ted!” said James. “Are you—”

“I’m sorry,” said Tubby Ted. “I wouldn’t have done it. But they’ve got Prentiss.”

“Done what?” James asked.

“Who has Prentiss?” said Thomas.

At that moment, a heavy rope net fell around them both, its weight knocking them to the jungle floor. It stank of old fish and sea muck. As they struggled to escape it, four men emerged from the jungle and quickly closed up the net.

James understood his mistake too late: he’d been so intent on where he was stepping that he’d paid no attention to the trap waiting in the treetops. Two pirates hoisted the net, turning it and the boys upside down. With the world inverted, James watched as the rope tied to Tubby Ted’s ankles went slack. Tubby Ted cried out, and from James’s perspective, fell upward and hit a ceiling of dirt as a whoof of air escaped from his lungs. Then Ted was replaced in James’s view by the bearded face of a pirate, pressed close, his breath reeking even more than the net.

“You two fishies will make a fine catch for old Captain Hook,” he said.

The other three pirates roared with laughter.

“I’m sorry,” said Tubby Ted.

Two pirates strode triumphantly into the fort, carrying between them the net holding James and Thomas, still upside down and very uncomfortable after the long, jouncing trek over the mountain. Behind them, prodded by the other two pirates in the hunting party, trudged the exhausted Tubby Ted.

Hook stood in the center of the compound, waiting, a snarl of happiness on his face.

“So my plan worked,” he said.

“Like a charm,” said one of the net-carriers. “We hung the fat one up like you said. Cried like a baby, he did. Brought these two running right into the trap.”

“I am a genius,” observed Hook. There was no response. Hook glared at Smee.

“Aye, Cap’n,” said Smee. “A genius.”

The pirates untied the net and upended it, dumping James and Thomas into the dirt. Hook moved so that he stood directly over James, the tips of his scuffed boots just touching the boy.

“Welcome back,” Hook said softly.

James looked into Hook’s piercing stare, then turned his head away.

“Thought you’d escaped me, did you?” said Hook. “Well, let’s see if your flying friend can rescue you now, boy. This time you won’t be out in the open, or near the spring. You’ll be in a cage, boy, with your three little friends. How d’you like that?” Hook spat a brown glob that splatted into the dirt an inch from James’s head, then said, “Put the little bilge rats into the cage.”

Rough hands shoved James, Thomas, and Tubby Ted across the compound to a box of lashed bamboo, about six feet square and four feet high. James saw hands clutching two of the bamboo poles from the inside: Prentiss. The pirates untied an elaborate series of knots, opened the top of the cage, and heaved the boys inside—two pirates being required for Tubby Ted. The boys crouched silently as the pirates carefully retied the top. Then, when the pirates had left, James spoke.

“Prentiss, are you all right?”

Prentiss’ face, like Ted’s, was covered with insect bites, some of them now oozing scabs.

“Yes,” said Prentiss, though his lip was quivering. “I’m all right, except the bugs—”

“The bugs at night are big enough to wear shoes,” said Tubby Ted. “The bites sting at first but itch something awful a few hours later.”

“But the bats are the worst,” Prentiss said. “Fruit bats the size of cats, with faces like little monkeys. They come out around dusk and dive and dart through the night sky like…like, I don’t know what.”

“Like bats,” Tubby Ted said.

“Yes,” agreed Prentiss.

“But that’s not the worst,” Tubby Ted said. “It’s the slugs I can’t stand. Long, slimy, yellow slugs that come out when you’re asleep. They must like the salt on your skin or something, because I had—” Tubby Ted made a face.

“Sixty-seven,” Prentiss said. “Ted had sixty-seven of ’em on him yesterday morning. Could barely see his face for all the slugs.”

“And the food they give us is awful,” said Tubby Ted.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” James said in a whisper.

“How?” said Prentiss. “They have this cage”—he pushed at a bamboo pole—“tied tight with knots that we can’t reach.”

“And there’s guards all day and night,” said Ted.

“And,” said Prentiss, “they told us that if we try to escape, they’ll kill us.”

“Right,” said James, peering between poles at the pirates. “But if we don’t escape, Hook will use us as bait to catch Peter.” He looked at the other boys. “And once he has Peter, he’ll kill us all anyway.”