As soon as we enter, more of the glowing orbs snap to attention and circle us, but as though realizing we’re not a threat, they simply light our way through the winding curves of the silent tunnel. On and on we go, through a narrow passage that seems endless. The air is close and has a coppery smell that reminds me of old pennies, and the walls often pitch at odd angles, so we have to duck or maneuver around them.
By now, Olivia’s eyes have gone completely glassy. As we walk, she occasionally steals glances at me, but I can tell that when she looks at me, she doesn’t recognize me. From the stiff set of her shoulders and the way she takes advantage of every opportunity to pull Pan’s attention toward her, I don’t think she sees me as anything but a threat.
Eventually, we come to a place where the tunnel we’re following opens into a cavernous room. The dark stone of the barrel-shaped ceiling is shot through with veins of scarlet crystal that glimmer like garnets. With the rocky walls steadily moving around us, it feels as if we’re standing in the middle of a beating heart.
All around the sloping walls, a series of identical openings lead off in different directions. None of them are marked in any way, but Pan doesn’t even slow his steps.
“Where do all of these go?” I ask, glancing back over my shoulder as I try to remember which tunnel we’ve just come through.
“Various places in Neverland. Though I would caution against exploring on your own, my dear. Never can tell where you might end up. This way,” Pan says, gesturing toward an opening on the far right.
Though this new path is drier than the last, the walls are sloped steeply on either side. In certain places, Pan has to crouch to keep moving without hitting his head. And all around us, the walls of the cave are in constant movement. Pebbles rattle, falling to the floor as the rock undulates in its constant dance.
I look warily at the ceiling of the tunnel. “Is it really safe to be down here?”
“We haven’t much choice. There’s no other way to get back to the safety of my home except these tunnels. The entrance we used yesterday would be far too difficult and treacherous of a climb from this side of the island. There’s good reason why the Queen picked this location for her stronghold.”
As we walk on, I think of the thick walls of the fortress, the impenetrable-looking facade. I think of the fairy lights that guard every entrance and the dagger, which is supposedly so deadly to the Fey, and I can’t help but wonder how anyone managed to penetrate the defenses the Queen had built up around herself. If she was all-powerful, I can’t imagine how the Dark Ones rose up and overthrew her after she’d already killed their King.
When the stone walls of the cavern around us tremble with a sudden and unusual amount of force, Pan goes still, his body tense as though readying himself for a collapse.
“It never stops, does it?” I ask. Yesterday, watching the land shift in its never-ending dance as we sailed over it was enchanting—magical, even—but this far beneath the surface, the constant movement seems more dangerous than anything else.
“It wasn’t always like this,” Pan says, his eyes scanning the ceiling of the tunnel before he leads us on. “When the Queen was in power, the island bent to her will, and all who lived on it were protected, but when she fell, so too did the protection her power provided. Since then, this land has grown evermore unstable. Recently it’s been getting much worse,” he tells me. “I’ve done what I can with the gifts she gave me, but I’m not strong enough to hold this world alone. Without her power, Neverland will eventually tear itself apart.”
I can hear the din of the Great Hall clearly now, but I stop and stare at him. “But you asked me to stay.”
“I did,” he tells me. “I think you belong here, Gwendolyn. I think there’s a reason you found your way to this world.”
Olivia’s eyes flash as she shifts in Pan’s arms, pulling herself closer to him as though staking her claim.
Just then the land trembles again, sending showers of rock and debris down onto our heads. Olivia tucks herself closer to Pan, and I reach for the wall to steady myself as it quakes. For a second I think it’s never going to stop. The pulse of the island is so erratic beneath my palms, so violent, that for a moment I think the ceiling above us will cave in.
But the moment I touch it, my hands go warm. My whole body goes hot, like I’ve touched a live wire, and the quaking earth pulses once, twice . . . and then goes completely still.
I stay close the wall, waiting for the violent quaking to begin again, and after a few long moments, the mountain slowly starts moving. When I’m sure it’s not going to start shaking again, I pull myself away from the wall, eyeing the tunnel around me, ready just in case.
“You should be finding a way out of this,” I tell him as the rock around us settles into its usual, more gentle undulating rhythm. “Instead of convincing other people to stay here to die with you.”
He turns to me then, giving me his full attention. “I have no intention of dying, Gwendolyn. And I’m not looking for a way to escape this world.” The determination in his tone leaves no room for argument. “I would do anything to save it.”