Page 22 of The Never Queen

The salty air of the sea rises up to greet us and for a second, I can’t breathe, can’t think straight. My body desperately wants to have solid ground beneath it, and my arms flail. Only Bash’s grip on me keeps me from flapping like a bird.

“Wooohoo!” Bash shouts, the sound of his voice over the thundering of waves is enough to lift some of the worry and anxiety. Bash’s enthusiasm has always been infectious. When I need to feel safe, I look to Pan or Vane. When I need to feel joyful and hopeful, I look to Kas and Bash.

We hit the ocean like a bullet. Just as the water is folding in over top of me, I’m forced upward again, bursting from the surface in a shallow pond in the middle of Madison Park. The very same park Mom apparently disappeared from.

I gasp for air, slapping at the water as the muddy bottom finally orients me in the mortal realm, on gravity.

Bash laughs beside me and whips his head to clear the wet hair from his face. “You okay, Darling?” he asks.

“Fine. Wonderful.” I trudge for the shore, Bash behind me, as water sloughs from our clothing.

Time works differently between the two realms, but we know for certain that when it’s nearing sunrise in Neverland, it’s nearing midnight in the mortal realm. So we’ve arrived at the perfect time.

Behind us, Vane breaks the surface, followed by Pan and Kas.

We’re in a less frequented corner of the park, where the pond curves around a copse of willow trees. We slip out undetected and within seconds, all four of the boys are dry. It takes me longer.

I’m still incredibly new to magic. How it works, what it can do. And shadows are particularly nebulous because there are only fourteen in the Seven Isles, two to each island. Which means there isn’t a great depth of information on them. Most of those who’ve possessed a shadow have been very guarded about their power.

I’ve had to learn what I can from the boys, mostly Vane and Pan, because they have the most experience with them.

What they’ve hammered home more than anything is that thoughts are a powerful way to shape magic, but that it’s important to guard yourself against wandering thoughts. I learned that lesson when I was pouring a cup of coffee and had a random thought about how the handle on the pot looked like the neck of a duck and then the pot turned into a duck and started squawking at me when I dropped it.

Bash could not stop laughing at me chasing that damn duck around the treehouse trying to get it to return to coffee.

But magic doesn’t work the same in the mortal realm as it does in the Seven Isles and my grip on it here feels loose and edgeless, like I’m trying to manipulate the mist.

The boys wait patiently for me as water drips from my nose and sloshes around in my shoes.

“Close your eyes,” Pan instructs. I exhale a frustrated breath before doing as he asks. “Can you feel the shadow?”

It’s always there with me, like a faithful dog, but one with a constant thirst for blood and boundless energy that wants to be spent and recovered just as quickly.

“Yes,” I answer as the shadow writhes.

“Breathe up your spine and ask it what you want.”

I don’t really know what he means by breathing up my spine but I imagine it must happen better with my back straight, so I level out my shoulders and imagine a breath racing up each knob of my vertebrae.

Please help me be dry,I tell it. Though it has no shape, not like a dog, I still picture it as one tossing its head back at me.

Please, I think again, insisting harder, and then a wellspring of magic flows toward me. When I pop my eyes open I look right at Vane, knowing he helped.

I am suddenly dry and comfortable in the gentle night air.

Thank you, I think, and I know he senses it, even though I wanted to make it happen on my own.

One day I will get it.

Won’t I?

“Where to first?” Bash asks.

“We should first check the spot where Merry disappeared,” Pan says. “And then check her cottage.”

When I decided to stay in Neverland, Pan and the boys helped me move Mom from the old, crumbling Victorian to a small, sunshine-yellow cottage in South Wind. It was the perfect city, walkable and friendly, with plenty of greenery and a mild winter. And even better, most of the city is run by people either familiar with or transplanted from the Seven Isles.

For a while, when we visited the mortal realm, we would stay in the old Victorian, but it was too far removed from Mom, and it made more sense to be closer to her when we crossed realms.