Chapter Text
“There you are,” a male voice greeted Lucy. “I was waiting for you.”
Lucy felt a smile spread across her face as her eyes slowly opened. She was in a green paradise, surrounded by a lush forest, resting on a mossy patch of ground. And there, standing over her, was a young man. His hair was dark, contrasting with his mud freckled pale skin. There was a bandage haphazardly tied around one arm and vines criss-crossing his chest. His feet were bare, the only clothes he really wore were battered suit trousers with basic repairs and patches over the knees. A sword hung from his left hip, a dagger hanging from his right.
He offered Lucy a hand.
“Hello, Lockwood,” Lucy said.
The young man was always a feature in Lucy’s dreams. For months every time she shut her eyes, she found herself on the island, found herself spending time with Lockwood.
“I have such an adventure planned for us today,” Lockwood grinned.
His excitement caused him to float into the air, eyes bright. Lucy couldn’t help but laugh. Lockwood was such a wonderful, peculiar figment of her imagination. He could fly and seemed to have endless smiles. And the island he lived on… It was brilliant, bursting with potential adventures. Lucy knew that having the island in her dreams as somewhere to retreat back to was the only thing that kept her sane when dealing with her mother.
Lockwood rushed over to Lucy, producing a folded up map from his pocket. He said it out on the ground before them.
“We’ve never been there, have we? And I know girls like mermaids,” he said, prodding a finger at Mermaid Lagoon. “But you have to be careful, have to do exactly as I say. Mermaids aren’t like they are in the stories. A mermaid will drag you down into the depths and feast on your flesh.”
Lockwood had a way of speaking that was somehow able to make even the concept of being eaten alive sound appealing. Lucy studied the map. She had seen the map of Neverland, the island Lockwood called home, several times. It was beautiful, artistically done, depicting the rivers and mountains and the ocean surrounding the island. And on the Western side was Mermaid Lagoon. Lockwood didn’t bother to take Lucy to the Western side of the island much. It was populated by several villages of adults that Lockwood liked to steer clear of because ‘adults were useless’ and he ‘didn’t have time for them to act like they knew what was going on’. They spent much of their time on the Eastern Side, fighting the monsters that lived in the deep woods there and the pirates who laboured under a captain known as Golden Blade.
“What do you think?” Lockwood asked, staring at Lucy.
“I’ll go wherever you want,” Lucy told him. “You know this island better than I do.”
With a wide grin plastered on his face, Lockwood fumbled over folding up the map before simply settling for jamming it into his pocket. Then he turned to Lucy, offering her his hand.
“Shall we go then?” he asked.
Lockwood had once mentioned it took fairy dust to fly but in her dreams, Lucy could fly whenever she held Lockwood’s hand. It was a beautiful weightless feeling, like all her cares had simply left her. She didn’t think she could ever worry when she was able to fly through the sky.
Even when they landed on the dark shores of the Mermaid Lagoon, Lucy still felt like there was nothing in life she could ever worry about. Lucy’s eyes played over the lake. It was tidal and, from what Lockwood had once told her, impossibly deep. He had once swum as deep as he could go on a single breath (with a rope tied around his waist so he could be pulled out when he inevitably passed out) and he had not reached the bottom. Still, on the surface the waters were clear and tranquil, lapping softly against the shore and the ridge of sharp rocks that cut it off from the ocean.
“So what are we doing here?” Lucy asked. “Or are we just exploring?”
“You see that boat out in the middle?” Lockwood questioned.
Lucy nodded. A small wooden rowing boat sat in the middle of the lagoon. Lucy strained to see if there was anyone on board but she couldn’t spot a single soul.
“On that boat is something that was stolen from a friend of mine. We’re going to get it back.”
“Who stole it?” Lucy asked.
“The mermaids of course,” Lockwood said. “It’s bait. They’re trying to lure us out onto the water so they can catch us.”
“Why can’t we just fly down and grab it?” Lucy asked.
“Because that would be too easy. And the mermaids have fought of that. They’ve chained it to the bottom of the boat.”
“Think we can lift the boat?”
Lockwood looked at Lucy as if the very question was scandalous.
“Where would be the fun in that?” he asked.
Lucy raised an eyebrow at him.
“The fun comes in not getting eaten by mermaids.”
“We’re dreaming. If the mermaids do try to eat us, we can always wake up,” Lockwood reminded her.
“Well then what’s fun about it if we aren’t in any real danger?” Lucy asked sarcastically.
“You can still die in dreams,” Lockwood told her. “People do it all the time. You just never know because you never get to hear from them what they were dreaming about when it happened.”
Lucy couldn’t imagine that Lockwood could possibly have any way of confirming what he had just said but he didn’t seem to care at all. He gave her an authoritative nod and then turned to look out over the water.
“How do we know the mermaids are even out there?” Lucy asked.
“They’re always out there,” Lockwood said. “But if you want proof?”
He turned, scanning the ground around them. Then he picked up a large rock. He threw it into the water. Immediately an arc of dark scales broke the surface. Lucy watched as a long, trailing fish tail followed. It was a beautiful, in the same way Lucy thought a tiger looked beautiful as it prepared to pounce.
“Off we go then,” Lockwood said, offering Lucy his hand.
Without even thinking, Lucy took his hand. They lifted into the air, rising gracefully and falling gently onto the boat. It was more like they had done one single leap rather than flown anyway at all. And in the bottom of the boat, Lucy found what they were there to recover. She had to admit she was a little disappointed. She had been expecting they were there to recover some priceless ruby or some key to some important box. Perhaps they were there to steal back some vital map or some tool without which the island couldn’t function.
Instead, Lucy found herself staring at a battered old magnifying glass locked up in a bird cage with the handle secured to the bottom of the boat by a heavy chain.
“A magnifying glass?” Lucy spluttered.
“It’s George’s favourite,” Lockwood said.
He reached down into the bottom of the boat, picking up the cage. No sooner had his hand closed about the metal bars was the boat suddenly jostled. Lucy had to grab hold of the side to stop herself from toppling into the water. Lockwood was only saved by her grabbing his arm.
He knelt down low and drew his sword and offered it out to Lucy.
“Would you be so kind as to keep our new friends at bay?” Lockwood asked. “I’ll pick this lock.”
Lucy pulled the sword from Lockwood’s grip and stood unsteadily. She eyed the water closely, looking for shapes moving about in the darkness. And suddenly something exploded from the water.
Lucy slashed out at the pale, scaled arm desperately. She watched as the clawed nails of the grabbing hand latched onto the boat. The dug deep gouges in the wood until they caught in one of the slats of the boat.
“Brace!” Lucy shouted as a warning as the mermaid tugged harshly on the boat.
It began to tip to one side, Lucy desperately slamming the handle of her sword down on the mermaid’s hand, trying to get it to release its hold.
Water began to slosh into the boat as it tipped further and further.
“Cut it off!” Lockwood instructed.
Lucy turned to look at him as if he was mad and saw he was grinning, as if they were doing nothing more than playing an intense game.
And there was movement behind him. Lucy watched as a mermaid reared itself out of the water. She was stunningly beautiful, her wet hair forming dark twists as it rolled down her shoulders. Turquoise scales formed patterns over her flawless skin and the triumphant smirk upon her face made Lucy very sure that the mermaid knew just how attractive she was. And she was very attractive. Lucy could fully understand how mermaids could easily lure sailors to their deaths.
And the mermaid wasn’t even looking at her. The creature’s piercing gaze was fixed onto the back of Lockwood’s head. She reached out with her talons, going to grab the young man.
Lucy thrust the sword forward dangerous. It slid between the tough scales, drawing blood. Lucy had deliberately not aimed for anything important, just a warning bite from the steel to warn the mermaid off. And it had the desired effect as the mermaid sunk below the waves.
But the respite didn’t last long.
The water around them churned as scaled tails knocked against the boat. The mermaid trying to drag it down sent more water crashing into them and made a swipe for Lucy’s ankles. In her desperately to dodge the hand, Lucy threw herself off balance and the precarious rocking of the boat was enough to seal her fate. Lucy began to topple into the water, arms windmilling.
“Got it!” she heard Lockwood call.
And then his hand was in hers and they were rising up and up and up, over the lagoon.
The mermaids beneath them hissed and leapt out of the air, making desperate grabs at Lucy’s trailing ankles. Lucy was forced to dodge one hand that came dangerously close.
But once she was sure they were out of the mermaid’s reach, she dared to look up at Lockwood. He triumphantly waved a magnifying glass at her in response.
As he often did, Lockwood wanted to relive the entire adventure. Lucy sat there, bare foot, ringing out her socks into the ferny undergrowth, unable to keep herself from smiling as she listened. She told herself it was with relief. They had survived after all. It was cause for celebration.
But she knew it was something more. At least she knew it was becoming something more.
Suddenly Lockwood stopped, faltering. Lucy frowned, looking around.
“Do you hear something?” she asked.
“It’s time for me to go,” Lockwood said sadly. “George is trying to wake me up.”
Lucy had encountered George a few times in her dream but unlike Lockwood, he never seemed to be aware they were in a dream. Lockwood always talked like there were two Georges too, one that existed in the dreams and one that was real, that Lockwood spent time with when he was awake.
“Can’t you stay a little longer?” Lucy asked.
“Afraid not,” Lockwood said. “Some sort of trouble they need me to sort out. I’ll see you soon though.”
And he offered Lucy a soft smile before disappearing in an explosion of autumn leaves.
Lucy watched as the leaves drifted down to the ground. When it had first happened, she had been terrified, thinking her dream had become some sort of nightmare. The next night Lockwood had explained it was simply him waking up. Lucy thought it was a little bit weird that someone in her dreams seemed so convinced he was a real person who was capable of waking up, but she had gotten used to it, willing to accept that she would see him again soon whenever he did disappear into a pile of leaves.
But there wasn’t much point being in a world without him in it, not even a world so wonderful as the one she found herself in. Lucy laid back, resting her hand against the undergrowth. And within moments there was a puff and a pile of autumn leaves lay in her place.
Lucy was under no illusion about how exactly she had ended up in therapy. Her mother had made all sorts of claims about how she had such a terrible temper, how Lucy’s anger problem was the reason their rented house received so much damage and not because of her mother’s drunken rages. So when Lucy had punched a boy at her school when she had caught him picking on one of the younger kids, she had been the one to get punished and her school had insisted she be sent to a therapist.
Mrs Brunswick, her therapist, had pretty quickly caught on to the fact that Lucy was not an inherently violent person but she had asked that she keep seeing Lucy all the same because she felt that the girl needed someone to help her work on her self-esteem.
At first Lucy had liked Mrs Brunswick. She was a kind, grandma-like woman who always gave Lucy a toffee whenever she felt they had had a particularly challenging session.
But they were slowly beginning to fall out and there was one thing causing friction between them: the dreams of Lockwood.
It had come up again that day. Mrs Brunswick had asked to look through Lucy’s sketchbook and there had been a drawing of Lockwood in the midst of trying to free the magnifying glass from its cage with a mermaid looming over him from behind.
“You know this isn’t a healthy coping strategy,” her therapist said. “It’s… Well, it’s avoiding all the issues. You prefer that fancy world much more than the real world, don’t you?”
“Everyone prefers their dreams,” Lucy replied.
“Not in the way you do. It’s like… It’s like you love this boy. The way you talk about it.”
“Him,” Lucy corrected. “The way you talk about him.”
“Yes, sorry,” Mrs Brunswick said. “I am just concerned that escaping to this fantasy world might prevent you from facing solvable problems in this one and that the bond you have with this boy might stop you from making friends in the real world.”
“What would you have me do?” Lucy asked.
She considered holding her ground, considering telling Mrs Brunswick she wasn’t going to stop dreaming. But she knew it was a losing battle. Sometimes it was better to fake compliance and then simply continue to act the way she knew to be right.
“There is a research group I know of,” Mrs Brunswick said. “They specialise in these sorts of things and they have for several years now been interested in people who are regularly having dreams of other worlds. Perhaps you might benefit from seeing them. They might have insights as to why you have these dreams so often and how we can put a stop to them.”
Mrs Brunswick had given Lucy a card to the organisation in question, the Fittes Research Group, and told her it was her decision if she wanted to make contact with them. However, she had used the tone adults liked to use when they were very sure as to what they though the right decision was.
Lucy had taken the card home and clomped past the living room where her mother was drunkenly passed out on the sofa. Lucy knew she could have gone upstairs screaming at the top of her lungs and her mother wouldn’t have awoken.
As Lucy entered her room, she dug her hand into her pocket, going to throw the business card away. Her time with Lockwood was the only good part of her life. It was her escape from everything, the place where no one judged her because of her mum, where there was someone who wholeheartedly believed in her, who thought she was brilliant.
Why would she want to bring that to an end.
If she could, Lucy knew she would never leave Neverland. Even with all it’s dangers, it seemed like paradise to her.
But she stopped herself, standing there, holding the card.
Perhaps there was a way to ensure she did never have to leave. Or at least a way to ensure the dreams never stopped. And if anyone knew how to guarantee it, it had to be the Fittes Research Group. Lucy told herself she could call them, that she could tell them all the things they wanted to hear about how to stop the dreams and trick them into telling her all about the dreams.
And then she could pretend. She could pretend she had made the dreams stop. And then no one would ever have to know. She’d not have to mention the dreams to anyone else. They would be hers and hers alone.
Lucy pulled out her mobile and made a call.
For a group of people who specialised in researching sleep, the Fittes Research Group could have chosen a friendlier building. It was an ugly boxy concrete thing with no windows, looking to Lucy like the prison of some evil dystopian overlord. Lucy had to steel herself to get herself to walk through the automatic doors.
The reception wasn’t any less intimidating. There was a large metal reception desk with a robotic looking receptionist. People in suits milled about, holding important papers and escorting people from the waiting room seats off to various offices. Lucy wondered what the group had against cheese plants and why there wasn’t one in pride of place in the reception in some effort to make the place look a little friendlier.
Still, she managed to pluck up the courage to approach the front desk and get the attention of the receptionist.
“Hi, I’m Lucy Carlyle. I have an appointment with Dr… Dr Rotwell.”
“Give me a moment,” the receptionist said.
There was a clatter as her fingers raced over the keys of her computer. Then she shook her head.
“I’m afraid your appointment with Dr Rotwell has been cancelled,” the receptionist told her.
“Oh,” Lucy said. “No one sent me anything saying-”
“That is because it has been rescheduled.”
“When to?” Lucy asked.
She desperately hoped it was still going to be that day. She had had to take two buses to get to the headquarters and wasn’t keen on having to go there again just to have her first meeting.
“Now. It’s the person you are meeting with that has changed it appears. Give me a moment.”
The receptionist pressed a button on the intercom fixed to the desk.
“Dr Fittes, your ten O’clock is here to see you.”
There was a pause as the receptionist waited for a response. Lucy looked around, trying to spot which of the business men must have gotten the receptionist’s attention to ask that Dr Fittes he contacted on his behalf.
“Thank you. Could you send her up please?” a voice from the intercom replied.
The receptionist said she would and looked at Lucy. Then she pointed her toward a lift in the centre of the room.
“Her office is on the 7th floor. Don’t worry, there are signposts.”
Lucy began toward the lift, feeling utterly bewildered. Then she stopped herself, moving back to the reception desk.
“When you say Dr Fittes, you don’t mean the head of the research group, do you?”
The receptionist gave Lucy a strange look.
“Who else would I mean?”
As Lucy stepped off the lift at the 7th floor, her stomach was twisting. A lump has formed in her throat, stopping her from swallowing.
Where they onto her? How could they be onto her? She’d not even had her first meeting with them!
She told herself it was impossible. She had probably just said something that had interested them. They’d just want to know more about Lockwood and Neverland. Dr Fittes probably only wanted to see her personally because she figured there was a potential research paper in what Lucy had been saying.
Lucy managed to spot the sign to Dr Fittes’ office and shuffled her way down the long corridor to a plain black door with a silver nameplate fixed to the front. Drawing in a deep, steadying breath, Lucy knocked hard. A moment later, a voice called from within, telling her to enter.
Lucy did as she was told.
The office was enormous, with two large columns of water to either side of a glass desk. Fish were swimming about in the columns and they peered curiously at Lucy as she quietly shut the door behind her.
There was a woman sitting at the glass desk. Lucy was a little startled by her. She had been expecting an older white-haired woman with a sharp scowl, the sort of women who glowered at Lucy and her mother when they saw them in the street. But Dr Fittes was a glamourous middle-aged woman with dark hair and laughter lines dancing across her face. She smiled kindly as she saw Lucy, getting up to greet her.
“I’m sorry about the rather sudden change of plan,” Dr Fittes said. “I know you were due to meet Dr Rotwell but I heard about you and I have to admit I was intrigued. And I figured what is the point of owning a research group if you don’t get to steal an interesting case every once in a while.”
She flashed Lucy another warm smile and directed her to sit in the chair opposite her desk. Lucy did as she was told.
“So, Dr Fittes-”
“Penelope, please,” the doctor corrected. “There’s no need to be so formal.”
“Thanks,” Lucy replied awkwardly. “I just… What interested you so much about my case?”
Penelope’s smile deepened and she applauded Lucy for being so straight to the point.
“It’s more a hunch, something I will be able to prove right or wrong very easily.”
Penelope reached into a draw and pulled out a thick manilla folder. She placed it on the desk between them and freed the string holding it closed. When she opened it out, Lucy saw it was full of drawings. Some looked relatively recent while others were on pages that had turned yellow with age. Penelope carefully picked out the top one and showed Lucy.
“Do you recognise this boy?”
And Lucy did. She recognised the boy in the drawing immediately.
Lockwood.
“Where did you get that?” Lucy gasped.
“It was drawn by a boy called Robin in the 1862, shortly before his disappearance I’m afraid to say. You recognise the boy, don’t you?”
“Yes. Yes. He’s Lockwood, the boy from my dream,” Lucy said.
She looked up at Penelope.
“You said 1862.”
“Yes.”
“How is that possible? Is he some sort of… I mean mass hallucinations don’t work like that, right?”
Penelope nodded, saying that she didn’t believe it was a mass hallucination. She showed Lucy a few other images from the folder, each undeniably Lockwood. And yet they were placed hundreds of years apart. There was one that had been drawn in the 90s, another a photocopy of a drawing from the 1600s.
“And all of these kids… Did they disappear?”
Penelope shook her head.
“Not all of them, no. But a good number. The unhappy ones. You’ll be pleased to know that he doesn’t appear to take anyone against their will. He only takes the ones who are interested in seeing him.”
“And all of these kids had dreams like mine?” Lucy asked.
“No,” Penelope said. “You’re the first to have dreams. Everyone else said that Lockwood came and swept them off to his magical Neverland, that it all really happened.”
Lucy frowned.
“Are you saying there is a chance that he is real?”
“What I am saying is that I truly believe he is real. And that he has decided there is something very special about you. I have been searching for years for someone he is currently visiting. I only found out about Bobby Vernon, the boy from the 90s, after he had disappeared. But you… He’s still visiting you, isn’t he? How often?”
“He doesn’t visit,” Lucy said. “I dream of him. I go to his world, to Neverland.”
“But how frequently do you two share dreams?”
“I go to Neverland every night. He’s not always there but that’s where I go when I dream now. Every time I dream.”
“And how would you like to go there for real?”
Penelope led Lucy to the lift and pulled a key from around her neck, driving it into a keyhole below the ground floor button. The moment she turned it, the lift began to descend.
“So if Lockwood is real, what is he? You’re talking like he’s been alive for hundreds of years.”
“He has been. But things are a little complicated in that regard. From what I understand, he is linked to Neverland, the island sustains him and he sustains it. And the island exists outside of time. Lockwood is incapable of ageing no matter what world he finds himself in because he exists out of time. Other people don’t age while they are on the island but the moment they leave it, the moment they return to the mortal world, they begin to age again.”
“But how can someone like that be real?” Lucy asked.
“There are a lot of wonderful things that exist even though it sounds insane for them to exist,” Penelope shrugged.
The lift glided to a stop and the doors slid open. Lucy found herself exiting onto a metal gangway, lined with armed guards in black and grey uniforms. Each held a large machine gun. When Lucy saw them, her stomach twisted and she found herself flinching back.
“Don’t worry, they are here for our protection,” Penelope said. “The experiments we are conducting to open a doorway are extremely dangerous. You never know what could come through from the other side.”
“The other side of what?” Lucy asked.
She dared to exit the lift fully, seeing the dozen guards spread around them. Most were stood at regular points but two guards were standing near a pile of black heavy duty crates Lucy supposed had to be their equipment. Each stood on the metal walkway and Lucy saw what it overlooked. A large pool took up the bottom of the room. The water was deep and dark and ominously still.
“Your swimming pool?” Lucy questioned.
Penelope smiled and told Lucy she was closer to the truth than she thought.
“Water has long been associated with mystical powers. Many cultures have viewed water as a convergence between magic and mortal, a doorway between worlds. And they are absolutely right.”
“You're saying you can get to Neverland through water?”
“Yes and no,” Penelope answered.
She moved toward the edge of the walkway, pressing herself against the railings as she stared down into the water below.
“The water is the doorway but to get through, you need the key. I had long thought Lockwood was the only key left and he has made a point of being very elusive over the years. But given your dreams, I can't help but wonder if you won't be able to unlock the doorway too.”
Lucy’s brow furrowed, asking why Penelope thought that.
“I think your dreams are the island calling to you. It wants you to come and I am offering you the chance to go. I have created a potion that prepares the water, weakens the walls between the worlds. It would allow you to open the door.”
“Really? And I could visit Neverland for real?”
Lucy knew it was stupid. She knew it sounded too good to be true. But going to Neverland was like a dream come true. No, it was a dream come true.
And Lucy wanted it. She so wanted it. She wanted to be free of her mother and her school and the people who turned up their noses at her. She wanted to live with Lockwood and his friends, who all thought she was brilliant and brave and who didn't have to listen to adults slurring orders at them.
She wanted it so bad that she didn't care if Penelope was playing her for a fool. She was willing to risk it. She was willing to risk anything.
“Of course,” Penelope said. “You could live there, never have to return home again.”
“What do you need me to do?” Lucy asked.
The smile on Penelope's face only deepened. She turned to one of her guards, gesturing for him to step aside. He did so and Lucy saw he had revealed a locked glass fronted cabinet. Inside, Lucy could see bottles and bottles of a swirling green liquid. Penelope unlocked the cabinet and pulled out one of the bottles.
“This is the potion I was telling you about,” Penelope said, holding it out to Lucy.
Lucy didn’t want to get too close. The potion had an alarming glow to it that made Lucy wonder if it was radioactive. Still, she watched as Penelope gently rocked the bottle side or side, not at all concerned about its contents.
“Now, I am going to need a small sample of your blood,” Penelope said, “to mix in to this.”
“My blood?” Lucy frowned.
Penelope nodded.
“A few drops. Less than you'd lose if you scraped your knee.”
Lucy saw one of the guards reach into the bottom of the cabinet and pull out a needle for her to prick her finger on. Lucy felt a wave of anxiety in her chest, feeling sure that Penelope had prepared to bring her down there, but she forced it down. If it was her chance to get to Neverland, she needed to take it. Why Penelope was so eager to get there was a problem for her to look into once she had found Lockwood.
Lucy took the needle as Penelope opened the bottle. Then the teenager pricked her finger, squeezing a few drops of her blood into the bottle. She watched as the green glow was replaced by a soft blue light as her blood mixed in, encouraged by a gentle rocking from Penelope. It looked like magic, Lucy noted, but she supposed that was something she just needed to accept. If she was going to enter Neverland, a world of magic, she just needed to take magic at face value, presume its existence in everything she did.
Once the entire bottle had turned blue, Penelope looked toward her guards.
“Are you all ready?” Penelope asked.
“Yes, Ma'am,” the nearest of the guards, the one who had been blocking the cabinet said.
“What do they need to be ready for?” Lucy asked.
The men began to match around, their footsteps on the metal walkway nearly deafening.
“You didn't think we would let you go alone,” Penelope said. “I have wanted to visit Neverland for some time. The things we could learn through proper observation of the place.”
“But non-invasive observation, right?” Lucy pressed. “Like you’re shooting a nature documentary. You can't use my blood if you're planning to go to Neverland and strip it of its resources.”
Penelope smiled and shook her head, assuring Lucy that was the last thing she wanted.
“I want Neverland to prosper. My men are only coming with us to protect us. You dreamed of that place. You must know the dangers that are present there.”
Lucy was forced to agree. She was still haunted with thoughts of the mermaids she had thought with Lockwood the night before she had called Fittes, the swamp monster they had just watched hunt the last time Lucy had slept. Maybe it would be good to have some protection, at least until they were able to find Lockwood.
“It’s all going to be okay, Lucy,” Penelope promised her. “You’re going to get to live in Neverland. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Lucy nodded.
She watched as Penelope walked forward and poured the bottle into the pool beneath them. The water began to glisten, turning a shimmering blue. And Lucy saw the image of a heavenly forest appearing in the water, as if some reflection she was viewing in a river.
Penelope gave a breathless laugh.
“I actually did it,” she breathed.
She turned to Lucy with a wide smile and offered her her arm.
“How do we get down?” Lucy asked.
“We jump of course,” Penelope told her.
As Penelope’s men fussed over setting up a base camp on the Neverland beach, Lucy stared at the forest beyond. It was so real, just so real. She could hear the waves lapping on the sand, the birds in the trees, the rustling of leaves in the wind. She was there. She was there and awake and it was real.
It was taking all of Lucy’s control not to run off through the trees, shouting for Lockwood. She wanted to see him. She needed to see him.
He was going to be so proud of her. She couldn’t wait to see the smile spread across his face, to hear him remark about just how brilliant she was.
But she was going to have to. Penelope had told her to stay close by as they set up camp, that it would be safer to all go off together.
“Shouldn’t we set up camp in the trees?” Lucy asked. “What if the pirates spot us? Or better yet, why don’t we ask Lockwood to let us stay in his base. I’ve been inside. There’s plenty of room.”
Penelope peeled herself away from where her men were setting up the tents.
“I am not sure Lockwood would appreciate that,” Penelope said. “We are adults after all. I can’t imagine he would be very fond of us. But once we get to introduce ourselves, who knows? Maybe we can make ourselves at home in their hideout. Or at least in the forest. But I don’t want to make Lockwood feel threatened. I would rather he come to us.”
“And you think he will?”
“Of course he will. He’ll be unable to resist investigating our tents on the beach,” Penelope said. “And be able to keep himself from coming to see you.”
Lucy felt her cheeks begin to warm and looked away. Then they heard a shout from the men. Lucy turned sharply, seeing one of the men was pointing up to the sky. There was a figure hanging in the air just above the treeline, staring down at them.
Lockwood!
Penelope pulled away, hurrying back to her men. Lucy couldn’t stop an enormous smile from cracking across her face. Lockwood had to have seen it because he dropped rapidly from the sky. For a moment Lucy was sure he was falling but he came to a gentle stop just millimetres above the sand, grinning at her.
“You made it here?” he said. “Lucy, I’m so… I’m so impressed. You have to join my gang right away. We’ll be unstoppable with you! And I can introduce you to everyone. The real versions of them, not just the ones from our dreams. They’ll love it! Everyone likes to meet someone new. Well, not George and Flo but they’re nice enough when they get to know a person. And we’ll have to visit the fairies, get you some fairy dust so you can fly. I won’t be able to help you now you’re actually here.”
Lockwood pulled eagerly on Lucy’s hand but she didn’t let him drag her away.
“I have people for you to meet,” Lucy said. “They helped me get here. And they’re fans of yours.”
Lockwood’s feet drifted down onto the sand and he arched an eyebrow.
“Fans?” he questioned.
He smoothed down his wind tousled hair and sent Lucy a winning smile.
“Any people who are willing to help you are more than okay in my book,” he declared.
He began toward Penelope and her men, his wide, welcoming smile in place. Just as he began to say something however Lucy watched one of the men turn. She felt her heart stop when she saw what he was holding.
A gun. Lucy had no idea if Lockwood would recognise it. Sure the pirates had guns but those were old flintlock pistols. Their weapons took time to load, had limited range. Modern guns… Lucy wasn’t sure that Lockwood was prepared for modern guns.
“Look out!” Lucy shouted.
It was too late. The gun had already been levelled. It fired but not with the echoing of retort of a gunshot. It came with a poof of air.
Lucy watched as a dart embedded itself into Lockwood’s chest. It had a small metal body and a tuft of orange fuzz on the back. Lucy had seen them before in a documentary about zoo vets. It was a tranquiliser dart.
Lockwood looked down at it in confusion then he pulled it from his chest. He studied it, eyes already darting in and out of focus.
“Is this poisoned?” he slurred.
Penelope walked toward him very calmly. As Lockwood dropped down to his knees, she knelt before him, cupping his cheek even as she removed his sword from his belt.
“Not poisoned, no. You just get some sleep. You’re in good hands.”
Lockwood was trying to fight it. Lucy could sense that rising from him. He was desperate and scared and sluggishly trying to pull away.
And then his fight ended. He collapsed to the side, Penelope taking his weight to gently lower him onto the sand.
“Secure him,” Penelope said, getting to her feet.
Her eyes landed onto Lucy whose jaw was hanging slack. As two of Penelope’s men gathered up Lockwood’s unconscious form, Lucy charged toward them.
“What are you doing?” Lucy demanded.
She lunged at Penelope who stepped back. Two of Penelope’s guards surged over from the tents, grabbing Lucy and holding her back. Lucy struggled desperately, determined to get to Lockwood’s side.
“He wasn’t going to hurt you! He was coming over to say hello!”
Penelope slowly approached Lucy. She rested a hand on her cheek in a mockery of a caress.
“Don’t you understand yet? This is all this was about: getting our hands on him. That boy is the key to immortality. I told you he never ages. He never gets sick either. If we can study him, understand him… We could change the world.”
“I thought you just wanted to see this place,” Lucy told her, “see how magical it is, how magical he is.”
Penelope raised an eyebrow.
“I have seen how magical it is,” she said. “And now I want it for myself. And there is only one way I am going to get that.”
