I sit on Bella’s bed. “Bella?” I say. She looks at me, her black eye makeup streaking her cheeks with dark-tinted tears. I place my hand on the inside of her wrist. Blood pulses through her veins against my fingertips, as steady as a summer rainfall, a heartbeat that now contains my white blood cells. “You’re going to be okay,” I say, smiling at her.
Bella nods, and the tightness in her shoulders melts into the mattress. She takes a breath and I feel her pulse slow, see her breathing return to regular, deep breaths. “Gwen,” she says in a small voice. “I almost had him. I had Hook in my sight, but …”
“Bella, what were you thinking?” Pete says in a voice so loud it reverberates in the small room. “No one goes into Everland alone. No one! Especially not you! You could’ve been captured, or worse yet, killed.”
I glower at Pete, a silent warning for him to back off. Pickpocket taps him on the shoulder and nods toward the far end of the room. Pete steps back, tripping over Bella’s metal wings, and leans against a far wall, not saying anything more. It is then I notice the mangled copper and jagged film of her left wing. I suck in a breath, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. Her beautiful wings … broken. Tears well up in my eyes, but I blink them back as Bella’s fingers graze my arm.
“I thought if I could take him down, then maybe I could get Joanna, and no one else would have to risk their life,” she says, blinking with tired eyes. “I wanted to prove that I’m just as good as any Lost Boy.”
“Shh,” I say, taking a cool, wet cloth from Lily and brushing Bella’s forehead with it. “That was very brave, the bravest thing I’ve seen anyone do, but you don’t have to prove yourself. I knew you were extraordinary the first time I saw you.” Bella forces a small smile. “You need your rest,” I say.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispers. “I’m sorry about what I said. I don’t really hate you.” Bella closes her eyes.
“I know. Try to sleep now.” I lean down and embrace her, grateful for the opportunity to provide her comfort. Comfort I wish I had given Joanna the last time I saw her. I wish I could give it to her now. As my pulse slows, fatigue sets in, and I want to lie next to her to rest for just a while, but there’s no time for sleep. Not until Joanna is safe.
Mole looks worried. “Is she going to be all right?”
“I don’t know,” Doc says, starting to remove the bloody bandages from her hands. “When will the Professor be here?”
“She should have been here already,” Lily says, glancing at the delicate gold pocket watch hooked to a broken chain-linked belt. “It is not like her to be delayed like this. Something is wrong.”
“Then we should go find her,” I say, standing. “Bella needs help now. And Joanna is somewhere inside the palace.”
“We can’t do that,” Lily says, stripping her latex gloves from her hands and replacing them with black warrior gloves embellished in gold. “The door is locked from the inside of the lab and is covered by a cabinet. There is no way to get in there from this side without a key. Only the Professor can open the door.”
Standing, I turn to Pickpocket. “Can you get us inside?”
Pickpocket grins and pulls his lock-picking multitool from his pocket.
A wrinkle of curiosity forms on Lily’s brow.
“Show me the door,” Pickpocket says, extending a hand for her to lead the way.
“Mole, you stay here with Bella,” Pete says.
Doc continues to remove Bella’s bandages. “I’m staying here as well. I want to take a look at Bella’s hands.”
Mole bites his lip, suddenly appearing younger than his twelve years. I wrap my arms around him and lean my cheek on his tousled brown hair. “We won’t be long,” I reassure him. He squeezes his arms around my waist.
“Promise?” he whispers.
“I promise,” I say, kissing the top of his head. Again I feel the sudden pang of loss. I miss Mikey. I miss Joanna.
Lily motions for us to follow her and, with a gas lamp in her hand, she leads us to a walk-in closet on the far side of the room. Inside are metal shelves stacked with sheets, pillows, and other bedding. On the back side of the closet is a steel door much like the one at the entrance of the infirmary. Only this time there is a single slot for a key.
Pickpocket manipulates the tool into the lock, and within seconds the latch releases. “You’d think for a secret door in the palace, they’d have a harder lock to pick,” he says.
“Impressive,” Lily says. “Where did you learn to do that?”
Pickpocket places the tool in his breast pocket. “Let’s just say I’ve seen more than my share in the clink. You learn a thing or two during your stay,” he says, winking.
“Ah, I see. You’re one of those bad boys,” Lily says, winking back at him.
Pickpocket smirks, watching her with a dreamy countenance. I roll my eyes. Her smooth, exotic accent grates on my nerves as I watch Pickpocket practically melt in front of her.