“What's the plan, Peter?” Tried to read his expression, glancing at his face as often as she could afford to while racing full tilt through the jungle. Running without watching ahead of her in unpredictable Neverland could be just as disastrous as distracted driving. Her feet pounded against the spongy earth, sinking into the dirt with every heavy, heart-racing step.
“Plan B,” Peter told her, not risking so much as a glance in her direction.
“Why Plan B?”
A thin twig of a branch whacked Gwen in the face as she blew past it, and she spit out a leaf as Peter told her, “Because the pirates have sailed off, the redskins are falling, the lawyers are unstoppable, and if those adults and their shadows don't get us first, the will-o-the-wisp will.”
His utter resignation shocked Gwen. “You make it sound like they've already won!”
“Oh no,” Peter promised. “They won't win. But it is time for Plan B.” He had such vehement and grim certainty, Gwen couldn't help but wonder what the next few hours in Neverland would look like. She wondered what it would like from the sea, too, from Jay's perspective aboard his ship. Certainly he wouldn't come ashore into the unraveling chaos of the island's last defenses—she hoped.
They did not look back as they ran—they couldn't afford to worry about anyone else as they wove toward the Never Tree. Hurrying through the woods and twisting through the obstacle-course route Peter had obscured the path with, they continued ducking under specific branches and veering around particular trees. Gwen couldn't shake the horrible feeling that someone was following them. She looked behind her several times, and tried to reassure herself when she only ever saw her own shadow loyally trailing behind her.
Eventually, they found the fairies.
Or rather, the fairies found them. Peter slowed to a stop. Looking around, seeing nothing but sensing everything. Traipsing through the ferns and staying light on his feet, he stuck two fingers in his mouth and let loose a trilling whistle.
Gwen neither suspected nor could have guessed how many fairies watched them from sneaky hiding places. Peter's whistle signaled safety, however, and they exploded out from every nook and cranny of the forest. From under leaves and out of tree hollows, they popped up from tall grasses and spilled out from behind trees. A hundred little, living lights sprung into existence and began drifting around Peter and Gwen.
Hollyhock broke their intricate formation in order to speed straight to Peter. She latched onto his nose, embracing it in a full-body hug. He shook his head and tried to wave her away, but she didn't let go until her tingling, glittering fairy dust forced him to sneeze and sent her tumbling back.
The other fairies' voices formed a melody-less chorus of questions.
“I'm afraid so,” Peter announced, seeming to answer them all in the same moment. “The adult forces are on there way here, slowly overpowering our charms. They will be to the Never Tree within the hour, I suspect.”
The fairies buzzed with a flustered and fearful fury.
“It's alright,” Peter said, calming their agitated rainbow. “We have contingency plans. We just need to hide everything better. Gwenny-Lyn and I are heading to the Never Tree now. We need you to alert everyone and evacuate them out of the jungle. We need a team to alert the aviator—” Bracken and Thistle zoomed forward, their red and pink glows shining as they volunteered.
“How can Antoine help?” Gwen asked.
“He's the only help we're going to have,” Peter told her. “We need someone to find Old Willow, too. Hollyhock, can you manage that?”
With a contrary noise, Hollyhock latched onto his index finger.
“You can't stay with me,” he told her. “It'll be dangerous.”
She didn't budge.
Hawkbit flitted forward and promised to find Old Willow.
“Alright,” Peter agreed. “The rest of you, spread out and find all the lost children you can. They'll need to follow the aviator's lead, but the more children we get in the air, the safer a landing we'll have when we come back down. They'll need every ounce of fairy dust you can spare if Neverland's magic becomes unreliable.”
The fairies buzzed like an electrical storm, nervous and excited as they rocketed off in every direction. Now they spread out, each embarking on a stealth mission to find children without letting adults spot them.
Hollyhock still clung to Peter's finger. He tried to shake her off, but she wouldn't budge. “I suppose you can stay for a bit,” Peter told her. “But I'm going to need to send you off on a secret mission in a few minutes.”
Deeming this a reasonable compromise, and curious as to what secret mission she might perform, Hollyhock gave up her death grip on Peter's index finger and floated beside him.
“Come on, you two,” he told his companions. “We're nearly there.”
The forest got deeper, darker, and stranger as they continued. Yet Gwen felt a familiarity about the place. She had never been to the Never Tree, but she felt she had visited this place. The heavy canopy shaded the ground cover, but the vibrant flowers and their infinite colors seemed born of the richest sunlight. The purple lilies and golden daisies seemed to glow alongside luminescent trillium flowers and clusters of bluebells that jingled and rang as she and Peter stepped over them.
A sudden bird call pierced the silence. The creature called again, sounding like a song bird in distress. Peter answered it, his noise identical but for the tonal pattern. He waited for a response, and in a moment Old Willow stepped out from behind a tree they had just run by. Gwen had no idea how they had managed to pass Old Willow without noticing her.
Her glorious walking stick in hand, she approached and told him. “Hawkbit has told me the unspeakable time has come.” She wore her hair down—Gwen had
