Page 113 of The Last Lost Girl

“Of course,” Smee agrees. “It’s only fair.”

I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and reach out for Belle’s darkness with my own. Shadowy vines peel away from my skin as every root-like hair lifts and reaches toward Belle. I place a hand on my sister’s stomach because that’s where they feel whole to me and search for the shadow that feels like Smee.

Kind and warm.

Helpful.

Strong.

There you are…

I pull it into my hand and stumble backward as his memories flood me and I’m pulled under. When the flashes of Smee’s life stop and his name and history pulse through my mind, Smee is still waiting, still wringing his hands. I move toward him and drag one of his warm hands into mine, exhaling a dramatic breath as his shadow, his freedom from Neverland, bleeds from me into him.

He laughs when he looks down, his eyes wide in disbelief when he sees that it worked. Even though it’s only cast by the room’s lanterns, his shadow sprawls on the floorboards. He gathers me and Belle in a crushing hug we both allow.

Smee hugs Hudson next, crying as he rocks his best friend back and forth. “We’re going home. We can go home!” More rocking, more sobs. “I know where home is now. Our families will be waiting for us.”

As Smee pulls away, I can’t help but notice the crease on Hudson’s brow.

The captain walks Smee outside and returns with Seoul. As weary as he is, he looks as if he would collapse without his friend’s support. “Are you sure you want to go next?”

A weak nod. “Sydney is scrounging up something for me and Juneau to eat. Afterward, we’ll help get the ship ready to sail for town.”

“The others can handle the ship. You and Juneau will sleep,” Hudson interrupts.

Seoul doesn’t argue. “Yes, Captain,” he responds with an exhausted smile.

Hook explains that I will likely see his memories and tells him to keep his true name to himself until everyone is restored.

When Seoul says he’s completely on board, Belle flares her shadows. They burst in wisps of darkness from her skin, but I know Seoul’s won’t be close to the surface. It’ll be hidden among the rest.

Stealthy.

Sneaky.

Smart.

My fingers brush one that’s particularly slippery and difficult to grasp. I quickly draw it from Belle so I don’t lose it, and she steadies me as the memories begin.

I open my eyes when the images stop and notice that her skin and smile are a little more luminous. If I take all the shadows from her, I might not be able to look at her at all; she might shine as brightly as the sun.

I clasp Seoul’s hand and return what’s rightfully his.

When it’s done, his head slowly droops forward like he might have fallen asleep. Then his shoulders begin to shake. I worry that like Smee, he’s crying, until he lifts his head and I see a glorious, triumphant smile on his face.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming!” he says, twisting to see the way the firelight casts his shadow.

I smile. “You’re not dreaming.”

He grins at Hudson. “One step closer.”

Hudson nods and returns his smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. I want to talk to him, but I can’t right now. He walks Seoul outside.

“They do feel like Pan,” I tell her. “Just a little. Just…” I’m afraid to say the word on the tip of my tongue because it’s terrifying to consider. But Belle does it for me.

“…enough.”

thirty-five

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