Stars (Wendy Darling, #1)

“Now, I’ll ask you once more—are you ready for an adventure?” Intoxicated by the power of flight, all the children screamed their consent, and Peter launched them up off the windowsill and into the London night sky, leaving Nana howling and pacing back in the nursery.

Had they waited five more minutes, they would have seen their parents returning and breaking down the nursery door, convinced by some divine intuition that their children were not safe; they would have heard their frantic cries as they pulled back their bed sheets one by one, and they would have seen their panicked movements as they searched under every bed and inside every wardrobe, desperate to be angry with their children for worrying them so. Alas, it was not meant to be, for since the children were flying away through the night, they would never see their father fall to his knees in front of the window or hear their mother screaming at Liza. Adventure had beckoned, but in the same way, an unfathomable grief had arrived for the Darling parents.





CHAPTER FIVE


AS WENDY LEFT THE CONFINES OF HER NURSERY, she felt the humid London air whipping around her face and felt the incredible power coming down through Peter’s hand, clutched so tightly around her own that it gave the semblance of safety, though they were hundreds of feet in the air. She was afraid to look down at her own dangling feet, so instead she kept her eyes on the brilliant city that unfolded itself underneath her like a lover. To the east she could see the slums, their dark, wet corridors sending a shiver of terror down her spine. From here, the mangled streets looked like twisted roots, each one playing into each other, winding and leaping around dilapidated buildings, which she had heard were filled with hungry orphans and serpentine men of the night. The Isle of Dogs was sparsely lit, but even in the darkness, Wendy could make out its famous lawns and ancient trees. Peter squeezed her hand even harder.

“Incredible, isn’t it?”

Michael was screaming with delight below, while John had been shocked into an awed silence. Wendy’s heart felt like it might burst with the joy of it all. Peter led them east, crossing over the great expanse of Buckingham Palace, past dark gardens that appeared now as a black spot from above. In the distance, Wendy could make out the upward spires of Westminster Abbey; below her feet was Victoria Station, bustling even now. Peter took them lower toward the House of Parliament? nodding down at her briefly before she gave a gasp of delight at the appearance of the massive River Thames, so thick it appeared like an enormous snake curling its way through London, wanting to devour everything in its path. The National Gallery came into view, and Peter gave a burst of speed, pulling them along behind him.

“Wanna do something fun?” he whispered. Then they were diving, Wendy trying her best to hold John’s and Peter’s hands as the air pushed hard around them, whipping them behind Peter like a ribbon in the wind. Peter pulled them down, farther and farther, until Wendy was sure they were going to hit the ground at an incredible speed.

“Say, Peter, I dare say that we should pull up!” John yelled cautiously. His tone betrayed that while he had spoken politely, he was absolutely terrified.

“Nonsense!” Peter shouted back. “Trust me!”