Page 59 of Caging Darling

I doubt the wraith misses the shame in my voice, but he doesn’t comment on it. In fact, when he speaks, his voice is tight. “Always was a tender child. You wouldn’t think it, given histemper. But he was the first to stand up to a bully threatening a runt.”

Tears well at my eyes, and I nod, my throat swelling. “He watched out for me. When I couldn’t watch out for myself.”

The wraith nods, as if I’m recounting information he already knows. There’s a pride in the way he takes his son’s virtues as a given that I ache for in my very soul.

Virtue wasn’t exactly a quality my parents thought useful to foster in me, not when they perceived scheming and blackmailing and seducing the only ways to keep me safe. There’s a part of me that knows that had I ever stood between a bully and their victim, my mother would have scolded me for risking getting a black eye and marring my pretty face.

“I’m sorry he—they,” I add, remembering Thomas, whom I never met, “were taken away from you. And that I took you away from Victor.”

“Get him out of here, and it’ll all be forgotten. That’s all I ever wanted for him, anyway.”

“I think you can help me with that,” I say, my arm going taut as Michael grows impatient and tugs on it.

“How do ya reckon that?”

“You got into Neverland through a warping,” I say. “I just need to know where it is.”

The wraith laughs. “I would have thought you’d have figured it out by now.”

“There is plenty I wish I’d figured out on my own, I assure you. But I’ve learned if I’m to get anywhere, I might make use of others’ cleverness as well.”

The wraith turns and points toward the sea, toward the boulder with the waves lapping up against it. “It’s on the other side. There’s a hole in the rock. It’s low, so the tide covers it most hours of the day. You’ll have to time it just right if you want to be able to see it. Otherwise, you’ll be going in blind.”

My cheeks go clammy. I’m used to having my head shoved under water by now, but as I have no way of explaining what’s happening to Michael, I’d rather the way be clear. Especially with the sea being so torrential on this side of the island.

“How long?” I ask.

“I’d say between three and six in the morning.”

I groan, because Peter’s usually in bed with me during those hours.

“You’ll make it work,” says the wraith.

I tip my chin up. “What makes you so confident?”

“Because my son will be with you.”

I nod, feeling ill in a way I can’t risk showing on my face. Because I know deep down that if it’s between Michael’s and Victor’s safety, whose I’ll choose.

“What does my son know?” asks the wraith.

I worry my lip between my teeth. “Not much. He knows Peter can’t be trusted. He knows he had a life before this one, but he doesn’t know about the orphanage or the awful things that happened there. He knows his brother was killed by another Lost Boy, but Peter’s never explained what drove Nettle to madness.”

“But he doesn’t know about me?”

I shake my head. “No. Victor doesn’t know about you.”

“Who do I not know about?”

I jump out of my skin and whirl around.

Victor’s standing at the tree line, shadows seeping under his eyes.

There’s a crossbow on his back.

CHAPTER 21

Istumble backward, the horror rattling through me throwing me off balance.

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