Her back and stomach both scrape the stone, but if she stops inching sideways like a crab, she’ll become wedged. She continues until the passage widens, gasping aloud in relief as she finds herself within a cave, lit by some source she can’t see that produces a deep orange glow. The relief lasts only a moment. Deeper inside the cave, something rumbles.
She can’t tell precisely where the sound comes from; it seems to come from everywhere, vibrating the stone underfoot and the ceiling overhead. Jane glances up, sure the cavern will collapse on them at any moment, but it remains solid. Comforted that they aren’t in immediate danger, Jane allows herself to study the cave—stalagmites and stalactites like melted wax, rising from the floor, dripping from overhead. There are veins of what look like quartz running through the stone, but just like everything else she’s seen in Neverland so far, the cave is a patchwork that makes no sense. Igneous and sedimentary and metamorphic rock all mixed together like pieces of a quilt.
Jane wishes she had time to study the cave properly, but her mother leads them on, peering into the darkened spaces between stone columns as if searching for something. She shakes her head and murmurs something to Tiger Lily, words too low for Jane to hear.
Jane glances at Timothy to make sure he isn’t too afraid. His hand is still in hers, holding tight, and his eyes are wide in a mix of wonder and fear. There is something awe-inspiring about the cave, equal parts built and grown. She can’t imagine anyone putting it here; it looks like the kind of place that’s always existed. At the same time, the niches and shelves of rock seem too regular in places to be natural formations. Her mother points to a wide stone ledge.
“You and Timothy climb up there and stay out of sight.” The spot is half hidden beneath an underhang, cloaked in shadows.
Jane opens her mouth to protest, but the set of her mother’s jaw stops her. By now, Jane is certain her mother being here isn’t one of Peter’s tricks, but at the same time, Jane barely recognizes her. She looks and sounds the same as always, but there’s something wild about her, something strange, as though the person she is in Neverland isn’t the same as the one she is back home.
And her mother’s expression reminds Jane more of Uncle Michael—haunted. But underneath that is anger. Maybe even rage. It leaves Jane afraid to speak, and paradoxically, it is what convinces her that this is her mother in truth. Nothing Peter could conjure up would ever be this fierce and so beautiful at the same time. Her mother looks like a warrior, a queen, something out of one of her own stories about the Clever Tailor and the Little White Bird.
Jane swallows her argument, and boosts Timothy ahead of her onto the rock. Once he has a hold, she scrambles up after him. As she pulls herself onto the flat ledge, a thought strikes her. What if, all this time, her mother’s stories really were about her, the Clever Tailor, and the time she spent in a magical land?
The thought frightens her, and Jane pushes it away, turning so she’s facing outward again. At least they can still see most of the cave from here. The faint orange glow seems to come from a place where the ground slopes downward. Whatever the source, it’s in the part of the cave that’s hidden.
“Wendy!” Peter’s shout comes from the direction of the cave entrance. Jane tenses, pressing herself flat against the stone. She should have known Peter would find them here, but is he calling her, or her mother?
“It’s—” Timothy starts, his voice too loud. Jane slaps a hand over his mouth, pulling him back into the shadows of the rock overhang.
Timothy squirms, and Jane hisses in his ear.
“Hush.”
When he stills, Jane lets go. His breathing remains fast, his eyes wide in the dark. Peter must know by now that she stole Timothy, and now he’s come looking for them both.
“I wish we had a weapon.” Jane tries not to move her lips as she speaks.
“I have this.” Timothy pulls a slingshot from the pocket of his ragged trousers, holding it out to her.
“You’re brilliant.” Jane would hug him, but the movement would be awkward on their platform. She settles for patting his shoulder. She still has the arrowhead she picked up from the path tucked into her sleeve. It fits perfectly into the leather sling, and she draws the weapon taut, sighting along her arm. She’s never fired a slingshot before, but how hard can it be? Peter’s boys surely aren’t trained hunters, and yet she saw them take down a wild boar. The rules in Neverland are different, and so it stands to reason that Jane can be a marksman too, if she tries.
There’s just enough light from the orange glow to allow Jane to see her mother standing with her hands on her hips, facing the entrance to the cave. She can’t see Tiger Lily anymore, but Jane is certain she must be nearby. Shouts echo, bouncing around the stone, then Peter bursts through the crack in the wall followed by Arthur, and a boy whose name Jane can’t remember. All three boys are armed with swords, but all three draw up short at the sight of her mother. Peter recovers first, jabbing an accusing finger in her direction.
“What are you doing here? You’re not allowed.”
“Yes, I am.” Her mother’s voice is steady. Jane edges forward, bracing Timothy’s slingshot against the rock. “You invited me.”
“You’re a liar.” Peter glares at her mother, his face scrunching up.
Jane’s breath catches, a soft sound in the dark, but enough to make Timothy
