Olivia. The thought of her shakes me from any wavering. I don’t know how much I trust Pan, but I’ve twice seen with my own eyes what the Captain is capable of. I need to find Olivia. If we have any chance of ever getting home, it will be because we’re together, and Pan is offering me that much.
I meet the Captain’s eyes and see the fury there hasn’t ebbed. “Let’s go,” I tell Pan.
With a crowing laugh, Pan scoops me up again and runs.
The Captain tries to lunge for us, but he’s still too unsteady on his feet. Pan, on the other hand, moves quickly, deftly through the dark ship, guided by his strange orbs. The instant we’re above deck, he leaps, and we are in the air.
“You made the right choice, my dear,” Pan says, his voice smooth and sweet as honey.
But I can’t be sure that I have. I’m even not sure there is a right choice in this strange and dangerous world. I close my eyes, not wanting to see the dark water or the ship receding below me, and, as we mount higher into the sky, the relentless rushing of the air echoes my own clawing sense of dread.
The boy grew to hate all of it, but he hated the darkness most of all, for at night, he couldn’t see death coming. That night, like so many others, there would be no sleep. When they called for him to “Stand To!” he wore his fear like a tattered coat. . . .
Chapter 16
THE NIGHT SWEEPS PAST, DARK and thick as ink as Pan flies on. I force myself to focus on the glittering stars above us, because I don’t want to think about the tender curve of a broken boy’s ear. And I don’t dare look down.
Pan’s body is my only warmth against the chilly air, his arms the only thing between me and falling to my death. But his darkened expression is so sure, so determined, I can almost make myself loosen the tight grip I have on his neck.
His face is masked with shadows, but a smile plays about his lips as we fly. I can’t tell if it’s from the satisfaction of besting the Captain or from the pleasure of the flight itself, but it seems like a secret smile. I don’t think it’s meant for me. Still, the longer we fly, the more I find myself drawn to him. The more I find myself wanting him to look at me.
Maybe it’s because he smells like the night, wild and free as the wind whipping through my hair, but it takes all my focus not to let myself lean into him. His is a cold scent, distant and empty as a winter day, but that doesn’t make it any less enticing. I want to breathe him in, and it’s only when he chuckles darkly that I realize I’m doing just that.
Then, before my cheeks can even flush warm with embarrassment, before I can even register how strange it is that I would be so taken by him, we’re falling. Or I guess we’re diving, but when you’re plummeting to earth with no control over the fall, the feeling is about the same. We break through the clouds, the cold dampness of them wetting my cheeks and hair, clinging to my bare arms.
We are still over the endless sea, but the surface of the water is now as smooth as polished glass. It shines pink from the soft morning light instead of the lurid meals of monsters. The clouds and sky glow a rosy amber now, and off in the distance, a sliver of sun is just beginning to peek over the level line of the horizon.
The view from this height is so vast, the feeling of the air rushing across my skin so exhilarating, an overwhelming sensation of freedom rushes through me as Pan glides effortlessly over the water. It’s like when I run, when I push myself enough to quiet the worries and the insecurities until I can only feel. Only this feeling is so much bigger, so much more intense. So much more tempting.
The Captain and his ship are nowhere to be seen, but the island is there before us, rising up from the sea like an angry fist.
Pan leans into the wind and makes a course for those strange shores. We’re close enough now that I don’t need a spyglass to see the wreath of jagged rocks that protect the island. Their dark surfaces rise sharply from the water, like some long-submerged creature trying to claw the sky with its craggy fingers. No wonder the Captain stays so far out to sea—the waters around the island would be deadly to a ship as large as his.
But navigating these dangers is easy for Pan, who glides easily around the peaks that rise unevenly from the water below. I can’t help but think he’s showing off a little with how easily he sails through the island’s gauntlet. He follows the shoreline to where the sea cuts up through a rocky beach and then follows the water farther, through a narrow pass that leads deep into the island’s interior.
I am sure now that I hadn’t been imagining what I saw through the spyglass on the Captain’s ship. Up close, it’s clear the island is moving as though it’s alive. Sharp corners of rose-colored rocks flatten to smooth planes as it continues to move and transform itself.