“What's this, Dollie-Lyn?” Peter asked, turning it upside down and looking at the small hole in the bottom. “Another one of your clever inventions?” He touched the bottom of the can and felt a slender string running from it.
Gwen pulled the corresponding can out of her purse. To demonstrate its functional, Gwen whispered into hers, “Can you hear me?”
“By golly, I can!” Peter announced, amazed at how clear Gwen's voice sounded from the can in his hand.
Gwen had never had much luck making telephones out of two cans and string, but she had never had magical string either. She knew from her experience tracking the Piper that Irene's invisible string would not tangle, would not run out, and would not snap. It was the perfect way to keep touch with Peter, to make sure he stayed safe even in the thick of this adventure.
“Wait—I know what this is!” Peter declared. “I've never seen one so big before.” He put the tin can on his finger as if he expected it to fit like a ring, or a thimble. “You ought to have one too, Gwenny.”
“But I've got—”
Peter didn't seem concerned with her tin can. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an acorn. He grabbed Gwen's hand and planted it in her palm, closing her fingers around the nut. He held her hand closed around it for a moment and Gwen felt lost for words.
“Don't get yourself killed by these cut-rate pirates, okay? They don't even have hats. It'd be a horrible way to go.”
She nodded a little, still unable to respond, and Peter took this for confirmation. He dashed into the woods and took off flying over the thick brush to make his way, as fast as possible, to the nearest marauding adult.
Gwen took a deep breath and clutched her little acorn. It felt charged with an electricity she didn't recognize. It didn't feel magical, but everything Peter touched seemed imbued with some enchantment. She didn't know what to do with it, so she tucked it into a safe pocket of her satchel and hoped for the best as she flew into the dark jungle.
Chapter 20
The children spread out so far and so fast that Gwen was isolated within a minute's time. She flew through the jungle—she couldn't remember where all the traps were, and she didn't want to trip one. The terrifying threat of shadows also compelled her to fly. Remembering her first encounter with the Anomalous Activity's shadows, she shivered to think about it slipping over surface and grabbing her foot. The jungle's spotty canopy made it hard to spot any unusual shadows moving among the others.
It didn't take long for her to run into an adult.
Gwen recognized the black coat invaders' uniforms. They wore the same tactical gear as the team that had attempted to apprehend them during the suburban exodus with Piper. He looked a bit like a shadow himself, and he spotted her. “Hold it right there!” he yelled.
Gwen screamed and flew off toward the nearest ambush. She darted through the forest and dodged his fire, watching as blue bullets splattered against trees, missing her by inches. Wherever they impacted, the plants seemed to shake and recoil.
She flew over a net and trigger obscured by an artful layer of leaves. She had barely passed it when a magic suppressant bullet struck her square between the shoulders. Her jaw clenched shut before she could scream, and she fell to the ground faster than a plane with a broken engine.
Paralyzed by the blast, she couldn't even brace herself for her fall. Neverland was merciful though, and broke her fall with a spongy clump of mushrooms. Gwen had grown accustomed to collapsing mid-flight—yet another marginally advantageous trait she had as an almost-grown-up in Neverland. She took deep breaths and remembered that most of her wasn't magical at all. She thought about physics and anatomy, and how she should be able to stand up. Her meditations on reality didn't overcome her pounding panic as the adult approached her.
Her face planted in the mushroom patch, she couldn't see, only hear, as the black coat neared. She imagined he still had his dark rifle trained on her. “Alright, girl, enough of the runaround… where's Peter Pan hiding? He's with the tree, isn't he?”
Gwen had no intention of telling him, but her jaw's functionality began to return to her, and she mumbled an incomprehensible answer.
“Just tell me where he is,” he told her, stepping slowly closer. “You're not in danger. We're just looking for the tree and some missing kids. We'll take you home, no worries.”
His assurances sounded like threats to Gwen. She mumbled louder, and tried to sound cooperative. She just had to draw him a few steps closer to her.
“Where's the tree? Is it—”
Gwen had enough control of her mouth to smile when she heard the smug black coat step into the trap. The net sprung with a satisfying snap after he tripped the trigger. He shouted, and she heard his gun clatter to the ground. While the solider writhed in the net, suspended in the trees, Gwen practiced little motions and gained control of her body again. After a minute of toe wiggling and leg flexing, she got to her feet. She felt unstable, but the longer she stood and the more she massaged her arms, the more feeling she had in her limbs.
“Sorry about all that,” she apologized, brazenly unsympathetic. The captured solider stared down at her with a rancorous loathing. “Someone will be along to let you down and take you home, no worries. I would advise you don't fight. They'll have swords. In fact,” Gwen lifted up his gun and picked at the cartridge container until it opened. She dumped all the magic-repellent ammo into her satchel. “I'll just take these so you aren't tempted to use them and get into trouble.” She laid the empty gun back down and scurried off into
