“What are you here for, Starkey?”
The pirate captain smiled, his slender and dark mustache twitching with the quick motion of his mouth. “I'm here for my son. Now where is he?”
All eyes turned to Twill, who did his best to hide behind Rosemary. He kept his dark hand locked in her pale fingers. He peered at his father with uncertain eyes.
Starkey smiled at him. “Twill, my boy, come here! Haven't you missed me?”
Twill shook his head.
Starkey took a step toward him, and Peter moved between them. “I won't let you take him back. He doesn't want to grow up, least of all to be a no-good, buccaneering pirate.
The snake-necked man grumbled, as if offended by Peter disparaging his profession.
“Ah, but I think you'll trade him.”
“You have nothing any of us want, Starkey.”
Starkey laughed. “Brash Peter… I have the one and only thing you need right now.”
“Nonsense. I don't need anything. Not from you, not from anybody.”
“Oh really?” Starkey replied. “I suppose I should have expected as much from you. You'd rather spend the next few days fighting with us over one boy, wouldn't you? But surely you know the stakes. You can't afford to waste time or energy on this matter, not when there's a worse fate sailing toward you. I hear they have a mother aboard one of those ships just for you, Peter. They'll send her ashore and she'll drag you home by the ear when it gets late, and then march you to school in the morning.”
Starkey laughed at his malicious joke, but Peter drew his knife.
Starkey's laughter came to a fast stop, and his sword made a horrible noise as he whisked it out of its sheath.
“It won't take but a breath and a half for me to kill you, and then whistle for the crocodile to eat up your body while we defend Neverland,” Peter told him.
“Are you sure, Pan?” Starkey growled. “Would you risk it all now instead of taking the very generous offer I am prepared to make you in exchange for the safe return of my son?”
Peter's vile pride kept his mouth closed and his lips taut. Gwen had the sense to ask, “What's the offer?”
Starkey sidestepped Peter and put his attention on Gwen. Gentleman that he was, Starkey even holstered his sword as he made his proposal.
“It seems to me that a score or so children makes for a very small army,” Starkey began, “and that Neverland is completely without any naval defenses.”
“What's your point?” Peter muttered.
“I've been walking among land-lubbing men long enough to remember why I turned against them and headed to sea in the first place,” Starkey told him. “Give me my son back, and I'll turn the Grammarian and her crew to your purposes. We'll commandeer what we can and sink what we can't. I would hate to see Neverland fall into the hands of do-gooders, and for the mere price of my restored family, we can call a truce—albeit it a brief one—to defend Neverland.”
The children bubbled with speculation at this idea. The fairies, wary and quiet, only listened.
“I don't make deals with pirates!” Peter roared.
Gwen put a hand on his shoulder, which either calmed him or simply caught him off guard. At times, Gwen had more sense in one finger than Peter had in all his body, and she took a rational approach to Starkey. “What happens when the adults land on Neverland? What good would pirates be to us then? And what motivation will you have to help us?”
“Dear Gwen, I half suspect you don't trust me,” Starkey replied, bearing her his silvery smile. “But if you must have some greater motivation from me…” He took off his hat and held it to his chest as he announced, “I always swore to my dear old mother that I'd never work a slaving ship—but she's been dead so many years, I can't imagine it would turn so much as the maggots in her grave if I went back on that now. Rumor has it there are a good deal of inventive engineers, clever accountants, and expensive lawyers among those heading for Neverland. I'm sure their reality would pay a pretty penny in ransom to have them returned to their particular rungs of the corporate ladder. We can help trap them, and schlep them back to whence they came. Unless you have a better idea for how to dispose of them, of course. You must know the crocodile can only eat so many unpleasant adults.”
Peter glowered at the rocky beach. Gwen looked between him and Starkey. What the captain proposed would solve every problem with the children's plans. They couldn't do this alone. Neverland was never meant to exist with such a dwindled population of magical beings. They needed help, and it seemed the only contingency willing to support them would be tenuous allies, not trusted friends.
“Peter,” Gwen began. “We need help.”
Too haughty to respond, he turned his head even farther away from her.
“We can't do this alone, Peter. Don't sacrifice Neverland for a point of pride.”
Starkey's face lit up and he plopped his tricorn back on his head. “Now there's a smart girl!” he said. “That's the voice of reason. Listen to that, Peter. Hear your mother out.”
“She's not my mother,” Peter snapped.
He held up his hands in deference to Peter's objection, but his tone was not without a note of sarcasm. “Pardon my presumptuousness.”
None of this improved Peter's bitter mood, but he must have cared, and he must have had some command of common sense, because he ceded, “This isn't my decision to make.”
His arms crossed over his chest, he looked at Twill.
“I told you before, Starkey, I won't hold any
