There was mist and there was Peter, and Peter’s lips, and Wendy felt herself falling, falling into him, falling down with Peter Pan, falling down into Peter Pan. She pressed herself firmly into his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. They plunged downward, feet first, her blouse fluttering around them both, Peter’s mouth drinking from her own, pulling away from her like water from a stone. They fell, their lips dancing and playing, the feel of his face against her own, soft skin over lean muscles. He ripped the scarf from her hair before lacing his fingers up in her thick curls as they fell ever downward, the wind cool around her body, Peter’s heat warming her core. Finally, he pulled back from her lips with a regretful sigh and gave her a naughty grin.
“Wendy Darling, I could not wait another moment.”
He shrugged, as if he couldn’t help himself, and then launched himself away from her in a graceful backward swan dive, disappearing into the mist below her. She blinked twice, her hands touching her lips with shock. He had kissed her. Her mind flitted back and forth between ecstasy and guilt, but her need to follow closely behind him won out over both feelings as she followed him downward into the thinning mist, her lips on fire from where he had touched them. As they emerged from the clouds, Wendy gasped. She had become used to seeing the main island from Pan Island, where it appeared as an impassive bump on the distant horizon, but here it was below her, five hundred miles of foliage, white cliffs, and pristine beaches spread out like a tiny world below them, Shadow Mountain rising out of the mist like a green behemoth.
The mountain loomed ominously over the island, a thin stream of white mist trailing out from its open crater, its wide mouth forever watching over its rocky mass and jagged foothills. Peter appeared beside her once again, and the flock of Lost Boys began emerging from the mist, one by one, each looking relieved when they saw Peter’s face on the other side. Peter waited patiently as they each plummeted down to meet him, some flying better than others, Kitoko flying down with incredible grace. He slapped Peter’s hand as he passed, raising his eyebrows at Wendy in a way that suggested that he had been witness to their kiss. Wendy blushed and looked down, not wanting to meet his eyes. At the tail end of the boys, Abbott appeared in the clouds, holding onto a taller Lost Boy by the collar of his shirt, his face pale, a ring of sweat around his neck.
“We almost lost Alfonso in the fog.” He looked over at Peter. “You were flying too fast.”
Peter laughed, although Wendy saw a glint of annoyance cross his face. He flew up to meet Abbott and Alfonso, who was flushed with shame.
“Keep up next time.” He swatted the back of the boy’s head and then gave Abbott a playful grin. Abbott returned it with a forced smile before leveling his eyes at Kitoko and coming down from above. Peter turned back to the boys and Wendy, his feet hovering above the island like a god.
“From here on, whispers only. Understood? Hook has spies everywhere.”
Not a word was spoken in reply. They flew low over the east end of the island, staying maybe twenty feet above the treetops and the rocky coast, which marked the island with its jagged gray rocks and pale sand. When they finally veered north, Wendy could see the edge of the white cliffs rising angrily out of the ocean, their peaks like razors.
“They are beautiful,” she murmured.
“The Teeth,” Peter whispered next to her. “That’s where I burned the Jolly Rodger.”
A minute passed, and then they were soaring above them, an endless stream of violent white, pockmarked with blue bird droppings and an occasional turquoise-green pool hidden in the deep grooves of the rock. Eventually the Teeth began to taper downward, towering peaks surrendering to sloping foothills that plummeted into the jungle, a tangle of waterfalls and rivers, twisted vines and green leaves the size of houses. The changes in Neverland’s geography were just like its natural landscape: extreme and defiant, as if another country started at the exact line on a map, the greenery stopping right where it was supposed to.
From above, Wendy could perceive small marks of the hungry life below: a large bird’s nest with robin blue eggs the size of her head, a green lizard with dazzling pink wings plodding its way across the canopy, an insect that resembled a gigantic dragonfly that followed them for a while before veering away to snatch up a yellow canary midflight with wide jaws that extended from a second mouth. Wendy gave a shiver as it spit out the yellow feathers and looked up at the unwelcome guests flying overhead. As they neared the end of the rolling hills of jungle, Wendy found her nerves tingling with fear when she saw the turquoise sea emerge once again on the horizon, realizing that they were close to their destination. She swallowed hard, for a moment forgetting the kiss. It’s going to be an adventure, she reassured herself. Just an adventure.
The gentle creek that was winding its way like a snake beneath them opened up into a gaping river that ran upward to the middle of the island. They followed the river for a few minutes, seeing an occasional fin cut through the water. Peter pointed.