Wendy resisted the urge to slap the smile off his face and pulled him into a corner.
“John, I need you to promise me you’ll be careful. Please! I’m sure there is nothing to worry about but . . .”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine, Wendy. Go away.”
“John! Why are you behaving this way?”
He gave an easy grin, tossing his dull brown hair off his dull face. “Because nothing you say matters here. I’m a General; you’re not. I imagine once Peter tires of your frilly dresses and puerile charms, that you will be our cook . . . or nanny, perhaps?”
“What would our . . . our . . .” Wendy couldn’t think at the cruelty of his words. She struggled to reprimand him. “Those people, the people who cared for us, what would they say if they heard you speak to me that way . . .”
What was she trying to say? John stared blankly at her and then turned to grab a sword off the wall. He considered his options for a moment before finally settling on a short, fat sword with an emerald pommel.
“I don’t know what or who you are talking about.”
Wendy felt a coil of anger unspool on her tongue. “You don’t even know how to use that, John!”
John looked over his cloudy glasses at her. “You’re trying to upset me before the raid. I have an important job to do, unlike you. Keep being oh-so lovely. It’s what you are good at.”
Wendy stepped back from him, disgusted at his words and attitude. Peter walked over and put his arm on Wendy’s waist.
“Is everything okay here?”
She stepped away. “Peter, please, please don’t let him go . . .”
“John may do as he likes here. He is an intelligent asset to our Generals.”
“Or just an ass,” Abbott remarked as he walked past the arguing siblings to grab a well-worn spear off the wall. John’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, obviously intimidated by the other General. Abbott twirled the spear in his fingertips, flexing its tip. “Don’t worry, Wendy, your dear brother is just pushing a ship to the side. That’s all. There’s no danger in that. Those who are going to steal bounty have a much more difficult job.”
John’s face flushed red as Abbott playfully nicked him behind the ear with the tip of his spear.
“Boys, Wendy, play nice.” Peter chuckled.
“John, you take a seat here. Abbott, begin packing up for our departure. Wendy . . .” He looked her up and down, trying his best to figure out how to quench her growing frustration with John.
“Wendy . . . you’re coming with us.”
“What?” John practically jumped up from the bench. “She can’t come! She’s not a Lost Boy or a General! She’s not even a boy at all!”
“And you weren’t a General until you arrived and I gave you the privilege,” Peter snapped, his eyes clouding navy and then returning to green. “If I say Wendy goes, then Wendy goes.”
Abbott stared silently at both of them, his eyes darting to Wendy and then back again. He wisely decided to say nothing.
Peter cleared his throat.
Wendy stared hard at John and then looked back at Michael. “Michael . . .”
“Michael will stay here with the other Pips. He’ll be safe. Thomas?”
The towheaded boy with bouncing ringlets scampered up next to Peter.
“Thomas! I have a very important job for you. Can you handle that?”
Thomas looked as though he was going to faint with excitement. “Yes, Peter. Of course, I mean, yes, sir, Peter, sir. Sir.”
“Can you watch over Michael Darling while we are out on the raid? Can you keep him safe and out of trouble?”
Thomas nodded, his huge blue eyes exploding with pride. “Yes, SIR! I will!”
Peter turned away. “Then it’s settled. Wendy comes with me.”
The anger simmering in John’s eyes could have set the Nest ablaze. He stared at his sister with unbridled contempt.
“You can take her, but she’s not going to be much help unless you need some hair ribbons tied or a piano played.”
Wendy shot daggers his direction and turned to Peter. “I’ll go.”