بخش 16

CHAPTER 75

FOREVER

THEY WERE ON THE BEACH NOW: Peter, Molly, Leonard Aster, Alf, James, Prentiss, Thomas, and Tubby Ted. After his tearful reunion with Molly, Leonard had insisted that she and Peter get off the rock, and that the mermaids keep their distance, while his crew of Starcatchers dealt with the box of starstuff.

From the beach, the scene on the rock looked unearthly: the Starcatchers, five men and three women, were clad head-to-toe in shiny gold-colored clothing, including gloves, boots, and helmets whose face masks had only the smallest of eye slits. They shone like human chandeliers, their gleaming costumes reflecting both the moon—now low in the sky, but still bright—and the brilliant light radiating from the golden starstuff box.

As Leonard and the others on the beach watched, Leonard explained that the shining clothes were, in fact, made of gold: it had been spun into fibers and woven by a process known only to the Starcatchers, who had learned, over the years, that gold, and only gold, could contain the power of the starstuff.

“That’s why the Others put this batch of starstuff into that golden box,” said Leonard. “But they didn’t do it correctly. The box must be constructed so that air itself cannot pass in or out. If it’s done right, the starstuff can’t escape, and it can’t be detected. That’s why I found nothing odd about the fact that I felt nothing from the trunk on the Wasp—I assumed the golden box inside was made correctly.

“But of course the real reason was that there was no starstuff inside the Wasp trunk—it was a ruse that, I’m ashamed to say, fooled me completely. The real starstuff box—the one on the Never Land—was not made properly; the Others don’t have the experience that we have, or the expertise, or the craftsmanship. They couldn’t make the box tight enough. And so the box leaked. In fact, it’s been leaking since it was back in Scotland; apparently some of it got on a lizard or snake, which transformed into some sort of strange gigantic creature, which managed to escape into Loch Ness. I certainly hope that’s the last we hear of that.

“In any event,” continued Leonard, “we’ve got the starstuff back now, thanks to you, young lady. You did well, Molly. Extraordinarily well—a young Starcatcher, alone, defeating Slank and that giant of his…”

“It wasn’t just me,” said Molly. “It was Peter, too. In fact it was mostly Peter.”

“Is that so,” Leonard said thoughtfully, studying Peter.

“It is, father!” said Molly. “Peter was wonderful. There’s so much I need to tell you, but for starters, he rescued me from Slank, and he came up with the idea of taking the starstuff out of the trunk.”

“That wasn’t just me,” said Peter, blushing. “That was Teacher’s idea, too.”

“I suppose,” said Molly, coldly.

“Teacher?” said Leonard.

“That mermaid there,” said Peter. “The yellow-haired one.”

He pointed to where the mermaids were gathered, a few yards offshore. Teacher was the closest, watching them—watching Molly, actually—and looking quite unhappy.

“So you picked up the golden box?” Leonard asked Peter.

“I did,” said Peter.

“And how long did you hold it?”

“I don’t know,” said Peter. “A few seconds, I think. I can’t say for sure. As I told Molly, I almost fainted.”

“You almost did far worse than that,” said Leonard, but softly, to himself.

“What did you say?” said Molly.

“Nothing,” said Leonard. “Molly, did you touch the box?”

“Only for the briefest instant,” said Molly. “I had to pull my hand away. I don’t know how Peter managed to pick it up.”

“Nor do I,” said Leonard, studying Peter now with an intensity that Peter found disconcerting. “Nor do I. Tell me, Peter,” he said. “How did you fly out to rescue Molly from Slank?”

“I used the loose starstuff,” said Peter. “I poured it out of the trunk, and scooped some into my hand.”

“I see,” said Leonard. “And you gave some to Molly, so she could fly back with you, is that right?”

“Yes,” said Peter.

“Molly,” said Leonard. “Can you fly now?”

Molly closed her eyes, concentrating.

“No,” she said after a few moments. “It’s worn off.”

“Peter,” said Leonard. “Can you fly?”

Peter’s body immediately started to rise.

“That’s odd,” he said, hovering a few feet off the ground. “Usually I have to try, but this time…I just thought about it, and here I am!” He floated gently back down.

“I see,” said Leonard, his expression grave.

“Father,” said Molly, “What is it? Is something wrong with Peter?”

“Not wrong, no,” said Leonard. “Not exactly.”

“What do you mean?” said Molly and Peter together.

“I mean,” said Aster, “that the starstuff may have changed Peter. Just as it changed the fish in this lagoon”—he gestured toward the mermaids—“it can change people, too, if there’s enough of it.”

Peter was pale. “How did it change me? I don’t feel any different.”

“Fly,” said Leonard.

Immediately, Peter rose again.

“That’s how,” said Leonard.

“You mean…you mean I can just…fly now? Without needing more starstuff?”

“Yes,” said Leonard.

“And it’s permanent?” said Peter. “I’ll always be able to fly?”

“I believe so,” said Leonard.

“But that’s wonderful!” said Peter, grinning hugely, still floating just off the ground. “I can fly!”

“But, Father,” said Molly. “If that’s so, why don’t all the Starcatchers do what Peter did? Why don’t we expose ourselves to enough starstuff that we can always fly, as well?”

“For two reasons,” said Leonard. “One is that the concentration of starstuff required for the transformation is ordinarily fatal, even for a Starcatcher, let alone a normal person. Peter is very, very lucky; he must have an extraordinary tolerance for starstuff. Most people who picked up that leaking box would have died; in fact, we understand that several did die when that box was filled.”

“What’s the other reason?” said Peter.

The other reason,” said Leonard, “is that the starstuff, in that concentration, causes other changes in humans, beyond just enabling them to fly.”

“What do you mean?” said Peter. “What other changes?”

“I don’t know, frankly,” said Leonard. “There are few cases like yours, of a person surviving the exposure, and each one is unique. But it’s possible that…that you…”

Leonard hesitated.

“That I what?” pressed Peter.

“That you won’t get any older.”

“What?” said Peter.

“That you’ll stay as you are,” said Leonard. “A boy. Forever.”

Peter thought about that for several moments, then spoke, slowly.

“Is that bad?” he said.

“I don’t know,” said Leonard. “I suppose in some ways, it could be good—never getting old and tired; never becoming frail.”

Peter considered that.

“But it could be lonely, too,” he said. “Staying the same age, while your friends grow up.” He looked at Molly, then quickly looked away.

“Yes,” said Leonard. “There is that.”

“How will I know?” said Peter. “How will I know if I’ve changed?”

“I think,” said Leonard, “you’ll just have to wait. And perhaps I’m mistaken. We can look into this more, when we’re back in England; I’ll arrange with your family to…”

“I have no family,” said Peter. “I’m an orphan.” He gestured to James, Prentiss, Thomas, and Tubby Ted. “We’re all orphans.”

“They were on their way to Rundoon,” said Molly, with a shudder. “To serve King Zarboff.”

“I see,” said Leonard to Peter. “Well, then, when we get back to England, you’ll stay with us, and we’ll sort this out. But for now, we need to deal with the starstuff: I see my people have just about finished their work.”

The gold-clad figures on the rock had carefully lifted the leaking golden box and placed it inside a larger, leakproof one, made by Starcatcher artisans. They then sealed this second box and placed it inside a black wooden trunk, much like the decoy one that the Others had loaded onto the Wasp back in London, so long ago. The Starcatchers stowed this trunk in the longboat, and removed their golden protective garb. They were now rowing to shore to pick up the others.

“It’s a good-sized longboat,” said Leonard. “I think it will hold us all. Our ship is anchored ’round that point there. We’re to be escorted back to England by two British navy warships, seventy-four guns apiece; we Starcatchers have our friends in the government. The navy will also be escorting the pirate ship out there. Strangest thing: the pirates were all tied up and hung about like laundry.”

“Slank,” said Molly, and Peter nodded. Peter’s hand went to his belt, where he’d tucked Slank’s knife.

“We found Mrs. Bumbrake locked below,” continued Aster. “She was a bit cranky, but none the worse for wear.” Aster’s eyes twinkled. “She’s looking forward to resuming her care of you, Molly.”

“Wonderful!” said Molly, making no effort at all to sound sincere.

“Here we are,” said Aster, as the prow of the sleek longboat reached the beach. He called to Alf and the boys, “All aboard for England, then!”

He took a step toward the longboat, then stopped at the sound—a harsh SWISH, then a loud and solid THUNKKKK—as a hurtling spear hissed passed his head, and buried its sharp, pink tip deep into the longboat hull.

“Stop right there, Englishman!” hollered Fighting Prawn, a hundred Mollusks behind him. CHAPTER 76

PETER’S PLEA

THE ENTIRE MOLLUSK TRIBE, a hundred strong, were arrayed in a semicircle on the beach around Leonard, Molly, Peter, and the others. The first light of dawn was showing in the sky; it caught the sharpened pink shells that formed the spear-tips of the Mollusk warriors.

They’d crept silently from the jungle while all attention had been focused on the mermaid rock. Now they stood watching, the warriors in front, spears poised, waiting for orders from Fighting Prawn.

“Who on earth are they?” whispered Leonard.

“They live here,” whispered Peter. “They captured us before, but we got away. They’re called the Mollusks. That old man is their leader. He hates Englishmen.”

“You might have mentioned this to me, Molly,” said Leonard. “The fact that there are hostile natives on the island.”

“I forgot,” said Molly.

“You forgot?” said Leonard.

“There’s been a lot happening,” said Molly.

As she spoke, Fighting Prawn came forward with the confidence of one who is well aware of the overwhelming superiority of his forces. Ignoring Leonard and the other Starcatchers, he walked up to Peter.

“So, boy,” he said. “You were not lying, about the magic.”

“No,” said Peter.

Fighting Prawn looked around at the others, then at the trunk.

“And there it is,” he said. “In that box. Magic that makes people fly, makes animals fly, turns fish into women, or women into fish.” He nodded toward the mermaid rock.

“Yes,” said Peter.

“We will take it,” said Fighting Prawn, signaling with his hand. A dozen warriors started forward toward the longboat. The Starcatcher crew drew their weapons, swords and pistols. The warriors stopped, looking to Fighting Prawn, who turned calmly to Leonard Aster.

“Tell them to drop their weapons,” he said.

“No,” said Leonard. “We can’t let you have that trunk.”

“You are not in a position to decide what we can have,” said Fighting Prawn. “Your people might hurt some of mine, but there are too many of us. We will win, and you will die.” He gestured toward Molly. “I have watched you from the jungle; I can see that you love this girl. Do you want her to die?”

Leonard looked at Molly, then back at Fighting Prawn, and shook his head.

“No,” he said.

“Then tell your people to put down their weapons.”

“NO!” said Molly.

“She’s right!” said Peter. “He’ll kill us anyway. They kill ALL strangers on this island. That’s what he told us.”

“That’s true,” said Fighting Prawn. “I told you that. But I won’t kill you. I need you to show me how the magic works. I can see it has great power. I can see even you fear its power. So to use it, I need you. That is your guarantee of safety.”

Leonard was silent for a moment, then spoke softly.

“All right,” he said.

“Father, don’t!” said Molly.

“Molly,” said Leonard. “Look around us. He’s right. Even if we do all we can”—here he gave Molly a significant look, and touched the locket chain around his neck—“some of us will die. We’ll do as he says, for now, and perhaps we can…ah…work something out.” Again, he touched his locket chain. He turned to the Starcatcher crew. “Drop your weapons,” he said.

Reluctantly, they obeyed.

“Now, tell them to get out of the boat,” said Fighting Prawn. “But they’re to leave the magic box where it is.”

Leonard gave the order, and the Starcatchers joined him on the beach.

Fighting Prawn turned and made a series of grunting and clicking sounds. Immediately the Starcatchers were surrounded by the warriors, who began to prod them to move down the beach.

“Where are they taking us?” said Leonard.

“Just a short distance there,” said Fighting Prawn. “I want to take a look at this magic box, but I don’t want you close enough to try any Englishman tricks when I do.” He gestured to Peter. “You, boy, you come with me. If you try anything, your friends will pay for it, do you understand?”

“Yes,” said Peter.

The Mollusks herded the Starcatchers, along with Alf and the other boys, about twenty-five yards down the beach. Fighting Prawn and Peter walked to the longboat, its prow resting on the sand. They climbed inside. The trunk lay in the bow. Fighting Prawn went forward and touched the lid, resting his hand on the smooth, dark wood.

“How does it work, boy?” he said to Peter.

“I don’t know,” said Peter.

“Don’t lie, boy. I’ve seen you fly.”

“Yes,” said Peter, “but I don’t understand it. It’s very powerful, and it can do many things, wonderful things, strange things. But also bad things, if the wrong people have it. And there are…Listen, I can’t explain all of what’s going on—it’s very complicated—but you must believe me. You will be much better off, much better, if you let that man”—he pointed at Leonard—“take this trunk, and leave this island.”

Fighting Prawn shook his head. “If he leaves,” he said, “more will come, and more. No, boy. I will keep him, and I will keep this trunk, and with his help I will learn to use its power, and when I do, I will make sure no outsider dares set foot on this island ever again.”

Peter was about to try another plea, when he heard the sound behind him: running footsteps slapping on the hard-packed sand. Fighting Prawn heard them too, and their heads turned, and they saw, coming hard, coming fast, a cutthroat crew led by a scowling figure with his sword held high.

Black Stache. CHAPTER 77

ATTACK

STACHE’S ATTACK WAS PERFECTLY TIMED, thanks to his veteran-pirate grasp of tactics—and a big piece of luck.

He and his men had been watching from the palms as the strangely dressed figures had transferred the treasure into a new wooden trunk. The men, especially Smee, were somewhat unnerved by the gleaming gold costumes, but Stache had convinced them that this was an indication of how rich, how fabulous, the treasure was—those who possessed it wore golden clothes!

He’d watched as the figures had loaded the trunk into the longboat.

Such a lovely boat; so nice of them to provide it for me.

His plan was to spring the attack just as the longboat reached the beach, and he was about to give the order when—NO!—the savages appeared. For several horrid minutes, Stache was filled with rage and despair, thinking all hope was lost. But then came the incredible stroke of luck. For some reason not clear to Stache, the old savage, the leader, sent all the others down the beach, leaving only himself and the boy—The cursed boy!—with the longboat. It was perfect.

And with a few whispered instructions—the plan was quite simple—Stache had whispered “Now!” And the attack was on.

It took only seconds: by the time the boy and the old man had turned their heads, the pirates were at the longboat; by the time the old savage had shouted, it was in the water, moving away from shore, with the waddling Smee bringing up the rear, just barely making it aboard.

By the time the cursed boy had got to his feet, in the prow, just in front of the old savage, Black Stache was upon him, his sword drawn back.

“Good-bye, boy,” Stache said.

Smiling, he lunged his sword forward, the tip of his blade aimed at the boy’s heart, and…

The boy disappeared.

In fact, he flew straight up, but so quickly did he launch himself that Stache never really saw it, and thus had no chance to stop the thrust of his sword, which continued right through, plunging deep into the chest of Fighting Prawn. CHAPTER 78

ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD

PETER WAS ASCENDING WHEN HE HEARD THE SCREAM; he looked down and saw Stache, a look of puzzlement on his face, pull his sword from Fighting Prawn’s chest. Fighting Prawn, still standing, looked down at the blood gushing from the awful wound, then, with a groan, fell backward onto the starstuff trunk.

Peter looked back to the beach, where chaos had erupted. Mollusk warriors, roaring with rage, were sprinting along the sand and into the water, spears cocked. Behind them, a dozen more highly agitated warriors surrounded Leonard, Molly, and the others, ready to strike at the slightest move, the points of their spears almost touching the captives.

“ROW, YOU DOGS!” screamed Stache to his men. “ROW FOR YOUR LIVES!” The pirates, needing no encouragement, were already at the oars, pulling with all their strength. A spear thunked into the side of the longboat, then another, then one just overhead. Stache, in the prow, yanked Fighting Prawn upright, and dragged him to the side of the boat. The old man’s face was gray from blood loss, but he blinked, still alive. Stache raised the wounded man up in front of him for the Mollusks on the beach to see.

“DO YOU WANT TO KILL HIM, THEN?” bellowed Stache. Afraid of hitting their chief, warriors stopped throwing spears. Some of them, insane with frustration, plunged into the lagoon and began swimming, but the pirate rowers had found their rhythm, and the longboat was moving far too fast for any swimmer to catch.

Stache was getting away. With the Starcatchers unable to move on the beach, and the Mollusks unable to reach him, Black Stache was getting away.

Peter swooped through the sky—bright now; the sun was up—toward the longboat, looking for an opening, trying desperately to think of a plan. There was no way he could overpower the pirates without help, without…

Teacher.

As he thought of her, he felt her thoughts; she was down there, underwater, fearful of all the commotion, uncertain about what was happening, what she should do…

Stop the boat, thought Peter. Stop the boat.

He swooped lower. The longboat appeared to be unhindered; if anything, it seemed to be picking up speed.

Stop the boat, thought Peter. Stop the boat!

And then he saw it: the flick of a tail in the surging longboat’s wake.

Stop the boat!

The longboat lurched, sending Stache backward, cursing.

“ROW!” he bellowed. Another lurch, another.

“WHAT THE DEVIL IS WRONG WITH YOU MEN?”

“We ain’t doin’ it,” shouted one of the pirates. “There’s somethin’ doin’ it to us.”

“ROW!” screamed Stache, and the men heaved on the oars, but the longboat had stopped completely now, dead in the water.

Push it back to shore, Peter willed.

Slowly, despite the screams of Stache and the furious efforts of the pirates, the boat, Peter floating just behind it, began to move back toward shore, toward the waiting Mollusks…a hundred yards away, then fifty, then twenty-five…

The warriors stood, spears in hand, waiting….

“LISTEN TO ME!” shrieked Stache, desperation filling his voice. He held up his sword, red from hilt to tip with Fighting Prawn’s blood, then held it against the old man’s throat. “IF YOU COME NEAR THIS BOAT, I WILL CUT OFF HIS HEAD, D’YOU UNDERSTAND, SAVAGES?”

The Mollusks didn’t understand his words, but his gestures were clear. They hesitated, watching as the boat, with Peter hovering above it, came closer to shore, closer…

And then it stopped, ten yards offshore. The mermaids could propel it no farther, the water too shallow. The Mollusks stood on the shore, watching. The sailors, exhausted and fearful, slumped at the oars. Stache, in the prow, held the body of Fighting Prawn, still gushing blood.

He’s going to die soon, thought Peter. If he dies, the Mollusks will kill us all.

“Let him go!” he shouted to Stache.

Stache looked up with a hate-filled glare.

“Why don’t you make me let him go, boy?” he said.

“All right,” said Peter, drawing Slank’s dagger.

He swooped straight at Stache, praying that the pirate’s first instinct would be to defend himself, rather than carry out his threat to kill Fighting Prawn. He was right. Releasing the old man’s unconscious body, which slumped to the floor of the longboat, Stache raised his blade, getting it up just in time to parry Peter’s thrust—and in the process cutting a gash in Peter’s right arm.

Peter grunted in pain as he soared back up. Blood dripped from his arm now, onto his hand, making the knife grip slippery.

“Come on back, boy!” shouted Stache. “Let me finish you off.”

Peter turned, rolled and dove again; this time it was Stache who did the thrusting, and Peter the parrying. Twice more, he swooped; twice more he just avoided Stache’s sword. Peter saw the problem: he had the shorter weapon, and could not get past Stache’s longer one. He could keep attacking, but eventually Stache would likely nick him again, unless…

Peter was not a student of swordplay, but he’d noticed that when Stache lunged with his right, sword-holding hand, he threw his left out, as if for balance. He swooped again to test this observation; sure enough, the left hand was out there.

If I can feint him…If I can change directions quickly enough.

“COME ON, BOY!” bellowed Stache. “STOP FLITTING ABOUT LIKE A MOSQUITO! COME FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN!”

“I’m coming,” said Peter. He took a breath, rolled, and dove again, aiming, as before, directly at Stache’s body, watching for the thrust….

Here it comes….

Peter twisted his body and shot to his right, and as he did he switched his knife to his left hand and slashed downward with it, and it happened too fast for him to see, but he could feel it as he flashed past, feel the knife finding a target, and then, as he shot upward, he heard the scream, and turned to look down upon the vision of Black Stache, holding his sword in his right hand, and looking in horror at the bleeding stump where the left had been.

Several things happened then, in quick succession.

The first was that Peter caught a thought from Teacher. More of a feeling, really: a feeling of stark terror. Something dangerous was in the lagoon.

The second was that the pirates, seeing their captain grievously wounded, abandoned the stranded longboat, leaping into the water and sprinting toward the beach.

The third was that the Mollusk warriors started after the pirates, only to stop suddenly when they saw, lumbering from the lagoon and onto the sand, the reason for the mermaids’ distress: Mister Grin. The giant reptile looked left, at the Mollusks, and then right, at the fleeing pirates, then left again, then right, as if deciding which would be dinner, and which dessert.

The fourth thing was that Smee, who had loyally remained in the longboat with Stache, wrapped his shirt around his captain’s bleeding stump, and managed to drag him out of the longboat and get him stumbling, in shock, toward shore.

The fifth thing was that Peter flew up the beach to where Molly and the others were being held at spear point, swooped down, and before the Mollusk guards could move, grabbed Leonard Aster’s locket chain and yanked the locket from Leonard’s neck. He flew back to the longboat, now vacant except for the motionless, blood-covered form of Fighting Prawn. He landed next to the old man and gently turned him over, exposing the wound.

He heard shouting from the shore; the Mollusks, keeping an eye on the still-motionless Mister Grin, were coming.

Fighting Prawn looked dead; his eyes were open but had rolled back, leaving only the whites exposed.

Peter fumbled with Leonard Aster’s locket.

Please, please…

He got the locket open, saw the glow, and poured it all onto the old man’s chest.

Please…

The shouting was close now, the warriors splashing to the longboat….

Please…

The Mollusks were on him now, hands grabbing his arms, trying to pull him away from the old man, who…

…who opened his eyes.

Thank you.

The warriors, still holding Peter, grunt-clicked something. Fighting Prawn answered with similar clicks. Then he smiled. It was a weak smile, but a smile just the same.

More shouts from the warriors, but this time, shouts of joy-Fighting Prawn looked at Peter.

“You saved me, boy,” he said.

Peter shrugged.

“Why?” said Fighting Prawn.

“To save my friends,” answered Peter.

“All right then, boy,” said Fighting Prawn, touching Peter’s arm. “You have saved your friends.”

The old man said something to the warriors; they let Peter go. He stood, and looked down the beach to his left; Molly and the others were free now, no longer surrounded by guards, but were not coming his way; instead, they stood nervously, warily. He looked to his right, and saw why: Mister Grin was still on the beach, unmoving.

A bit farther, stumbling toward the sand with the help of Smee, was Black Stache. The pirate was holding his left arm under his right armpit, wailing in pain. At the edge of the water, he stopped, looking down in horror at something tumbling in the gentle surf.

“IT’S ME HAND, SMEE!” he screamed. “ME HAND!”

“Yes, Cap’n,” said Smee. “Now you need to…”

“GET ME HAND, SMEE!” wailed Stache.

“But, Cap’n,” said Smee, “it’s…”

“PICK UP ME HAND!”

“All right,” said Smee, leaning over reluctantly, then leaping back, shouting, “RUN, CAP’N! RUN!”

Stache looked up and saw it: Mister Grin was coming right at them. Supported by Smee, Stache began to stumble down the beach in the direction his crew had gone.

“Hurry, Smee!” he shouted. “Faster!”

Behind them, Mister Grin lumbered up to where they’d been standing. Smelling something, he swept his enormous snout back and forth, until, having found his quarry, he opened his enormous jaws, engulfing Black Stache’s hand. He swallowed it in one easy gulp. Then, after a moment’s pause, he set off down the beach, on the trail of the famous, fearsome pirate, moving slowly and easily, as if he knew he had all the time in the world. CHAPTER 79

THE LAST MOMENT

THE SUN WAS HIGH NOW, the sky a brilliant blue. A perfect day on the island.

The Mollusks—generous hosts, when they weren’t trying to kill you—had brought a feast to the beach for their guests: smoked fish and luscious tropical fruits, served on glossy green leaves; gourds of cool water; sweet coconut meat right from the shell.

The Mollusks took pleasure in watching their guests eat, especially Peter and the boys, who hadn’t had a decent meal in weeks. They ate like hungry dogs, licking the leaves clean, gratefully accepting more, and more, and more, until even Tubby Ted was satisfied. He finally could eat no more, emitting a belch so massive that it propelled him backward onto the sand, where he lay groaning, his belly bulging skyward. The others roared with laughter, except for Peter, who, throughout the meal, had seemed oddly distant, distracted.

With the feast concluded, everyone gathered by the longboat, which, with its precious cargo, had been guarded by four Starcatchers and four stout Mollusk warriors, in case the pirates returned. But all was quiet; even the lagoon was placid, as if resting after a tense, eventful night. Offshore the mermaids lazed by their rock; Ammm and his brethren porpoises glided in the shallows, waiting to lead the longboat back to the ship.

As the Starcatchers readied the longboat, Leonard Aster thanked Fighting Prawn and the Mollusk tribe for their hospitality.

“You mean,” said Fighting Prawn, “for not killing you?”

“Yes,” said Leonard. “It was very gracious of you.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Fighting Prawn.

“Do you,” said Leonard, “I mean, does your tribe, shake hands?”

“No,” said Fighting Prawn. “We kiss on the lips.”

“Oh,” said Leonard, looking very alarmed.

“I’m joking,” said Fighting Prawn, extending his hand, which Leonard took with great relief.

Leonard turned to Peter and the boys, standing on the sand with Alf and Molly.

“Time to shove off,” Leonard said. “In a week’s time, you’ll all be back home safe in England, and this will be nothing but a dream. Ready, then? All aboard!”

They all moved to the boat—all, that is, save one. Peter remained where he was.

“Peter,” said Molly. “Are you coming?”

“Yes, Peter,” said James. “Come on!”

“Come along, lad!” said Alf. “We’re goin’ home!”

Peter shook his head.

“I’m not going,” he said.

“What?” The question erupted almost simultaneously from Leonard, Molly, Alf, and James. Fighting Prawn stepped closer to Peter, listening.

“I’m staying here,” said Peter.

“But…why?” asked Molly.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” said Peter. “England’s not my home. The closest thing I had to a home there was St. Norbert’s, and I’m not going back there.”

“You don’t have to go back there,” said Leonard. “I told you—you can live with our family. It’s the least we can do—Molly’s told me all you’ve done to help the St—to help us, the risks you took, not to mention saving her life. And I saw for myself, not two hours ago, your bravery and resourceful’ness, saving the trunk from that pirate.”

“And saving my life,” said Fighting Prawn, softly.

“The point is,” said Leonard, “you have a home with us. You and your mates.”

Peter was quiet for a moment, then took a deep breath, and spoke.

“That’s very generous, sir,” he said. “I’m sure you have a wonderful home, and part of me”—he glanced at Molly, then away—“wants very much to say yes. But I can’t.”

“But, Peter, why?” said Molly, her eyes glistening.

“Because I’m not who I was,” said Peter. “I’ve changed, Molly. I can do things now that I couldn’t do before. If I did those things in England, I’d be a freak, a circus sideshow. I’d have to hide what I’ve become. Here, on this island, I have the freedom to be who I am.”

“Peter,” said Leonard, “I won’t deny that what you say is true. Molly and I…all of us”—he gestured to the Starcatchers in the longboat—“must hide who we are. Yes, your situation is a bit different. But it’s not that different. You wouldn’t be alone. You would be one of us.”

“Yes, for a while,” said Peter, with a hint of bitterness. “But then you’d move on, wouldn’t you? And if you’re right about me, I wouldn’t. I’d stay the young flying boy, while you went on through your lives, as normal people do.” Peter looked at Molly, and she saw that his eyes were glistening, too.

Leonard’s response came in a slow and somber voice.

“Peter,” he said, “I feel a great weight of responsibility for this. If not for me—for us—none of this would have happened to you. So I will ask you, one last time—I plead with you—to please come to England with us, and allow us to protect you, and care for you.”

“I’m sorry,” said Peter. “No.”

Molly buried her face in her hands, muffling a sob.

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispered.

In the ensuing silence, James stepped away from the longboat, and went to stand next to Peter.

“If he stays,” said James, “I stay.”

“No, James!” said Peter. “You don’t understand. I’ve changed! You can go back to England and…”

“…and be an orphan?” said James. “And go to another school? And never have another chance for an adventure like the one I’ve had here? And leave my best friend in the world behind? No, Peter. I’ve changed, too. And if you stay, I stay.”

“If they stay,” said Prentiss, marching up the sand, “so do I.”

“And I,” said Thomas, marching right behind Prentiss.

“There’ll be more food, right?” said Tubby Ted, bringing up the rear.

And now they stood together on the beach, the five boys from St. Norbert’s.

Peter looked at Alf, a hint of a question in his eye.

The big man shook his head.

“Sorry, lad,” he said. “I’m an old man, and I’ve had all the adventures I want to have. I’ve got to go.” He stepped forward, opening his arms. Peter ran to him and was swept up in a powerful bear hug. They stood there for a moment, Peter’s feet dangling, his face buried in Alf’s shoulder. Then the big man set him down, and they turned away from each other, tears streaming down their faces.

“Well, then,” said Leonard, finding his own throat surprisingly tight. “I suppose I can’t force you boys to come back with us. Or, rather, I could, but given what Peter has done for us, it wouldn’t be right. So I will not stand in your way, Peter. But what about our hosts? This is their island, after all….”

All eyes turned to Fighting Prawn.

“The boy saved my life,” said the old man. “He is welcome here, and so are his friends. They have the protection of the Mollusk people for as long as they choose to remain.”

“Thank you,” said Peter.

“Yes,” said Leonard. “My thanks as well. But Peter, I hope you understand there are grave dangers on this island. The pirates are loose, and if Black Stache survives the wound you inflicted on him, he will want your blood, and will stop at nothing to spill it.”

“I know that,” said Peter, touching the knife in his belt. “I’ll be ready.”

“There’s also that enormous crocodile,” said Leonard, “and other deadly beasts, I’m sure. And who knows what other dangers.”

“I’m not afraid,” said Peter.

“No, I can see you’re not,” said Leonard. “You’re a very brave young man. Perhaps a bit too brave for your own good. So if we’re going to have to leave you—and it appears we are—I’m going to leave something with you, for your protection.”

“What do you mean?” said Peter.

“Give me a moment, and I’ll show you,” said Leonard. To Fighting Prawn, he said, “Would it be difficult for one of your people to bring me a bird?”

“A bird?” said Fighting Prawn.

“Yes,” said Leonard. “Can your people catch me one? Alive?”

“Of course,” said Fighting Prawn. “The Mollusks are great hunters.” He turned to his tribespeople and grunt-clicked a brief message; instantly, a half-dozen young men darted into the jungle.

“They will not be long,” said Fighting Prawn.

“Excellent,” said Leonard. “Now, Peter, if you’ll just give me a few minutes…”

Leonard climbed into the longboat and conferred in a low voice with two of the Starcatchers. They quickly donned their gold protective costumes, then went to the wooden trunk and, with great care, opened the lid, then busied themselves doing something with the box inside.

In five minutes they were done; they closed the trunk lid, and handed a small golden sack and another small object to Leonard. Leonard put the sack into his coat pocket, and carried the other in his hand back to the beach.

“All right, Peter,” he said. “First, I’m going to give you this.” He stretched out his hand; in it was a Starcatcher locket, a gleaming orb on a golden chain.

“But, why?” said Peter. “I mean, since I’ve changed, I can fly without…”

“You can fly, yes,” said Leonard. “But you may well need starstuff some day, especially its healing powers.” He fastened the locket around Peter’s neck. “Keep it with you always, and use it wisely,” he said.

“I will,” said Peter, his hand touching the chain.

“And now,” said Leonard, looking around, “we need the…Ah, here they are.”

The young Mollusk hunters were returning from the jungle, trotting down the beach, the one in front proudly holding something in his upraised hand. As he drew near, Peter saw that it was a bird, small but extraordinarily beautiful, its body and wings a startling emerald green, its delicate, darting head a brilliant summer-daisy yellow.

“Perfect!” said Leonard. “If I may. . .” He held out his left hand, and the hunter gently placed the bird on his palm. Leonard gently curled his fingers around the delicate creature. With his right hand, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the golden sack. He loosened the drawstring, carefully placed the bird inside, then pulled the drawstring tight again, and let the sack rest on his palm.

For a full minute, nothing happened. Everyone—Starcatchers, Mollusks, and boys—stared at the sack, waiting.

And then they heard it.

“Bells!” said Alf. “It’s the bells!”

It was coming from the sack, but it felt as though it was in the air all around them: a lovely, delicate tinkling sound, a happy sound, a mischievous sound…

And Peter understood it. He stared at the sack, his eyes wide.

“That’s right,” said Leonard, smiling. “She’s talking to you.”

“But…who is?” said Peter.

“She is,” said Leonard, as he loosened the drawstring and pulled the golden sack down. And there, standing on Leonard’s palm, looking directly at Peter, oblivious to the gasps of the boys, and the shouts of the Mollusks, was…

“It’s a fairy,” said Peter.

“Yes,” said Leonard. “Or at least that’s the name that’s been given to these creatures. So we’ll call her that, Peter. She’s your fairy, and she’ll watch over you.”

The fairy, in a shimmer of gold, sprang from Leonard’s hand and darted to Peter, flitting around his head, filling his ears with her magical bell sounds.

“Those are my friends,” Peter said.

“Who’re you talking to?” said James.

“The fairy!” said Peter. “Don’t you hear her talking?”

“No,” said James. “Just the bells.”

The fairy darted over to Molly, circled her twice, and darted back to Peter.

“Yes,” said Peter, “that’s Molly.”

More bell sounds.

“No she’s not!” said Peter.

“What did she call me?” said Molly.

“Err, nothing,” said Peter.

Leonard laughed. “Looks like you’ve got a jealous fairy,” he said. “She’ll be a handful, that one. But she’ll watch over you, Peter; that’s her job.”

“Thank you,” said Peter, not entirely certain that he wanted a fairy.

“All right, then,” said Leonard. “We’ve got to get back to the ship.” Solemn now, he put out his hand to Peter, and Peter shook it.

“Good-bye, Peter,” Leonard said. “Thank you for all you’ve done, and be careful.”

“Yes, sir,” said Peter. “I will.”

Leonard turned and got into the longboat. Alf was already seated with the rest of the Starcatchers. Only Molly remained on the sand. Peter took a step toward her, and she toward him. The other boys stepped away, giving them a place to converse in private.

“Good-bye, Peter,” Molly said. “Thank you for all you did for m…for us.”

“Good-bye, Molly,” said Peter.

They looked at each other for a few moments, both trying to think of something to say, both failing. Then Molly began to turn.

“Wait,” said Peter.

Molly turned back, her eyes questioning.

“Maybe…” said Peter, and he stopped.

“Maybe what?” said Molly.

“Maybe, I was thinking, since I can fly,” said Peter, “maybe I could come to see you some time, in England. I could fly there!”

Molly smiled. “That would be nice, Peter. That would be lovely.”

Another few moments passed.

“I suppose it will have to be soon,” said Peter. “Because you’re going to be getting older, and I guess I’m…not.”

“Yes,” said Molly, fighting to keep her smile. “I suppose that’s so.”

“Well, then,” said Peter.

“Yes,” said Molly.

And then, because he didn’t want her to see him cry, Peter turned away, and so Molly turned away. She had taken two steps toward the longboat when she felt his hand on her shoulder, and she turned, and he held her, then, and she held him, just for a moment, the last moment they would ever have when they were both the same age.

And then, eyes burning, Molly ran to the longboat and jumped in, and the Mollusks grabbed the boat’s sides and slid it into the water, and the Starcatchers pulled on the oars, and the longboat, with Ammm leading the way, glided away from the beach. Molly sat in the stern, next to her father, looking back at Peter, who stood alone at the water’s edge. His mates, farther up on the beach, were waving; but Peter was only watching, and Molly knew he was watching only her.

And she was right: Peter watched her until she was only a dot at the mouth of the lagoon, and then she was gone. He turned and trudged up the beach, to where Fighting Prawn stood with James and the others.

“You’ll need wood,” said Fighting Prawn.

“What?” said Peter.

“To make your dwelling,” said Fighting Prawn. “And for your cooking fire. You’ll need wood.”

“I suppose that’s so,” said Peter.

“Driftwood is good,” said Fighting Prawn. “Look along the beach. Bring the wood back here, and my people will show you what to do.”

“Thank you,” said Peter.

The boys split up, looking for wood. Peter walked along the waterline. He thought about flying, but decided he felt more like walking; he was feeling numb, and happy to have a task to keep him occupied. He’d walked several hundred yards when he saw it, sliding back and forth on the sand in the gentle surf: a piece of wood, painted, about six feet long.

He walked to it, picked it up. There were letters on the bottom, letters he’d seen before, on the ship that had carried him from London, the ship that had broken up on the reef that guarded this island. The letters said:

NEVER LAND

Peter looked at it. And then looked around him—at the lagoon; at the rock where the mermaids (Mermaids!) lounged; at the palm-fringed beach; at the tinkling fairy flitting over his head; at his new friends the Mollusks; at the jungle-covered, pirate-infested mountains looming over it all.

Then he looked at the board again, and he laughed out loud.

“That’s exactly where I am,” he said.