Unhooked

I wrap my arms around myself and rub at an ache that throbs near my shoulder. I feel suddenly cold and uneasy. The rocky bars that were between us are completely gone. I don’t understand what happened, but I can’t deny the result—I did this. I made them disappear, and that knowledge settles uneasily into the hollow space in my chest.

The Captain isn’t paying any attention to my own personal identity crisis, though. Relief washes over his face when he sees the steel hand and, turning his back to me, he has his shirt off and the arm reattached in a matter of seconds. Miraculously, the cold dead metal springs to life, the fist clenching and opening as a smile of satisfaction lights his face.

“Come,” he says as he pulls his shirt back over his bruised chest. “We’ve not time to be wasting.”

Led by the dimming orb Fiona left us, we make our way carefully through the dark tunnel. The Captain seems to know the way, but the tunnel is endless. Beyond the halo of its swiftly waning light, I can hear the rustling of the Dark Ones in the distance.

The Captain has me by the wrist, and I struggle to keep up with his long steps as he leads us through the tunnels. “Do you really trust Fiona?”

“No,” Will says as the Captain says, “Yes.”

“That doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.” I try to wrench away from the Captain, but with a sure tug of my arm, he pulls me on.

“She wants to be rid of Pan,” the Captain tells me as we walk. “As long as we’re of use to her in doing that, she’ll not lead us wrong.”

“And when we stop being of use to her?”

The silent tunnel echoes with our footsteps in answer.

I try to jerk away again, which only causes me to stumble, but before I hit the ground, the Captain catches me against him. “Careful, lass,” he says softly.

“What happens when we stop being of use to Fiona?” I ask again, trying to ignore the way my skin feels against his.

“I’ve not told her of the Queen’s resting place for a reason,” he says darkly.

Once I stop struggling against his lead, we make better progress. Soon the tunnel grows wider, and cool air streams in from an opening ahead. On the other side of the opening, we find ourselves in a larger cavern, long and narrow with a strip of sky above us. I look up as we walk, marveling at the unexpectedness of that ribbon of blue, and this time I trip over something that has me stumbling to my knees.

Not something, I realize too late. Someone.

Or what used to be someone. The corpse is bloated and ripe with decay. The skin on the boy’s mottled face is stretched so tight, it’s started to split apart, leaving white slashes of naked bone poking through the dark, gaping wound. All at once, the smell of it hits me.

Before I can scream, the Captain pulls me away from the body and covers my mouth with his hand. “Hush,” he whispers into my hair. “We don’t know if we’re alone.”

I swallow down my scream and the bile that rose with it, and give him a weak nod.

“This way,” the Captain says. “Quietly.”

There’s no reason to worry about being overheard, though. No one waits there except the already forgotten dead, who lay scattered in broken heaps in various states of decay. We are at the bottom of the trench. The place where Pan tosses the bodies of fallen boys.

Eventually we reach a place where the trench ends in a sheer wall of rock, which is split by a narrow passage barely big enough for a person to fit through. By now the fairy light Fiona gave us has long since disappeared, and the crevasse before us looks deep and dark.

I pull back. “I’m not going in there,” I say, thinking of the way the Dark Ones hunted in the other tunnels.

The Captain lets out an exasperated huff of air. “We’re almost there, lass. A little bit more and we’ll be at the cove, where the tender awaits. From there, the ship’s only a short distance, and we’ll be safely to sea.”

I give him a doubtful look.

“Aye, you’re right. Though we will be safer than we are here,” he says. “Will, would you lead us?”

Will gives a tense nod. He takes another few seconds to search the reaches of the trench and the sky above us, and when he’s certain—or certain enough—we aren’t in danger, he ducks down and wedges himself into the narrow opening.

“After you,” the Captain tells me with a half bow.

“You’re sure about this?”

“I just sent the boy I love as a brother ahead of you. If there was danger to be found, he’d certainly find it first.” When I still hesitate, he urges me on. “Go on, then.”

The split in the rock is narrow and every bit as dark as I feared it would be. William’s steady footsteps echo ahead, leading us deeper into the rock, and a moment later the Captain enters behind me. Together we follow the tunnel’s increasingly steep incline through the darkness. As the light recedes behind us, my certainty wavers and my steps slow.

“A little farther, lass,” the Captain encourages each time I pause to catch my breath. “We’re nearly there.”

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