Lies, Mistrust and Fairy Dust Read online

  Feeling an even bigger ache in my chest than before, I slide my body over and collapse on Aiden's bed. With tears filling my eyes, I bury my face in his pillow that smells like cinnamon. You know, fairy dust fixes everything else. Why can’t it fix this?

  **

  The wind lifts up the curls in my hair causing them to tickle my ears. Giggling I stand on my tip toes, my hands gripping the balcony railing, my eyes expanding from the sight of the huge city. It's so big. So new.

  “Peyton!” my name fills my ears. Dad's voice repeats louder, “Peyton!”

  Ignoring him, hoping the game of hide and seek I started but forgot to tell him about leads to a win, I stretch out further on the edge of a chair, hoping to reach a little higher. My non-stop growing four year old feet help me grip onto the rails reaching for a falling beautiful bright green bird feather that I've never seen before. It's so pretty.

  “Peyton!” He shrieks.

  With the tips of my fingers, I snatch the feather from the air. Got it! His voice yells my name again as he yanks me down. Gripping onto the feather while he grips onto me, I let him snuggle against me.

  “Peyton why didn't you answer me!” his voice croaks. “Daddy thought you might have gotten hurt or lost.”

  Unsure why he's so upset, I look down at the feather I'm twirling. Green and gold. How pretty! After smothering kisses on my head, he looks down at my prize.

  Suddenly his body isn't so soft and his voice is mean again. “Where did you get that?”

  I point up and smile pleased at my first treasure of the new home. “The sky!”

  His face lifts to the sky, his eyes looking for something. Maybe the bird! “We need to get into the house, Peyton. Now.”

  Daddy pulls me towards the balcony door, so hard and fast that the feather slips from my fingertips, “My feather!”

  “Leave it.”

  “But I want it,” I whine trying to get away.

  “No!”

  “Daddy!”

  He squats down to look deep in my eyes. “Do not ever think about that feather again! Do you hear me? Ever!”

  The bass in my father's voice shoots me up like a firework. Feeling the sweat drip down my neck, I anxiously try to rub it away. As soon as my vision clears, it lands on Aiden who looks terrified by the sight of me.

  Dusting away the chip remains by his mouth he slowly questions, “Peyton, are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” I clear my throat and push myself to the edge of his bed. “Just...been having a few nightmares lately.”

  “How often?”

  “Every time I fall asleep.”

  “That's... more than a few, Peyton.”

  “I'm not really sleeping that much, so not really.” Aiden lifts his eyebrows prepared to continue this conversation, but knowing that I don't want to, I beat him to the punch by pointing at his giant computer screen. “What are you up to? Are those maps?”

  “Yeah.” He swivels back around in his chair as I join by his side. “I'm trying to decide where exactly it is our map is showing us a terrain of.” He clicks a few keys and on the right hand side of the screen a window pops up with a photograph of our map. “This is what we have. See how there aren't big buildings or defined highways―”

  “That's because the map's older than that.”

  “Right,” he sighs heavily. “So I ran it through a database, eliminating any maps after a certain time period.” His fingers click on the keys once more while I watch several images flash through a box on the left corner of the screen. “Then I pulled up a database of older maps from historical textbooks and expeditions and crossed referenced those as well...” Aiden types a final time before saying in a defeated voice, “And...nothing.”

  “So the problem is now not that we don't have a map with roads, but that we have a map with roads yet no idea where it leads?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Does Peter know?”

  “Oh, Peter knows,” Aiden grumbles reaching for his can of soda. “And somehow it's my fault! Apparently I'm not bright enough to figure something as simple as a map out.”

  My hand softly grazes the back of his hair, which grabs his attention. Turning to look over his shoulder he attempts to smile. “We both know you're brighter than that and definitely brighter than Peter. That's why you're left in charge to figure out the hard things and he's left in charge to drink the hard things. Whiskey. Rum. Vodka.” After Aiden chuckles I ask, “Mind if I help?”

  “Go ahead.” He shrugs. “I am open to suggestions.”

  “Can you give me a close up of the map please?” Aiden double clicks so it takes up the entire screen. Carefully I take a few steps back for a better view and fold my arms across my chest. When I took this map out the first time I never got to admire the creases, the cracks, or the folds. Even since, this is the first time I've ever seen the faint roads, the lightly drawn terrain, the landmarks of some kind, for longer than a blink. I continue staring at this piece of art in itself. It's amazing how even maps were created to look like pieces of artwork. Smirking to myself I scan the details when something gut punches me.

  “Aiden, tell me. Do you see where the map seems to have a heavy fold on the left?” I point. He nods. “And a similar on the right.”

  “Yeah. So what?”

  “Really look at it! It's like someone folded just enough over like they were going to sketch half of something. Look.” I rush to his side and drag the mouse over the area of the building I'm referring to. “See how this half of the building isn't the same as this half? It's like they folded the paper to make sure they only accurately copied the one side. In fact it's almost like you're not looking at a map of one city, but pieces of a map from two cities.” After another pause, I smirk. “It's like the map you want....is of a city in between these.”

  “In between...”Aiden's voice trails off. “Why didn't I think of that?!” His fingers start attacking the keyboard as he mumbles to himself, “If I take this building and cross check it here―take this group of trees and reframe it here―and move this to the side while re calibrating this―” He pops his head up as does a map. “The Alcott Mountain Range.”

  Nodding slowly I lick my lips. “So what we are after is somewhere in there, but how do we know where to look?”

  With a similar grin to that of Justin's when he's done something he shouldn't have, he tilts his head towards my suitcase I assume he retrieved from Justin.

  “Ah...” I slide over to my bag, pull out the stack of cards and look for the infinity symbol. Finding it on two more, I pick the one whose date is directly after the last card we used for clues. My eyes admire the picture of what appears to be a silver coin, large like a quarter, but thin as a dime with a famous statue face engraved on it.

  Opening it, I read the words inside.

  Be careful following the footsteps in between the green.

  Aiden impatiently questions, “What's it say?”

  “That this is our next target.” I answer, shut the case, and show him the picture on the front. “Can you find where this is?”

  He tabs open a new window for him to do some research. “What is that exactly?”

  I stare at the picture of the coin. “This is the coin an Italian Prince retrieved from a gang of pirates. It was said to have been stolen from a small coastal village. However, when the prince went looking for the village no such place existed. When he confronted the thief he pleaded with him that a woman gave it to him. He then proceeded to tell him to make a wish and toss it overboard. The thief swore to him that his wildest dreams lie in between the coin. That that was what the woman told him. She had also warned him, if he did not toss the coin trouble would follow. Not believing her he pocketed it and two days later is when the prince captured him.”

  “What happened to the coin?”

  “The Prince kept the coin for himself and it's said that night while flipping the useless coin, it split in half and out fell just that. The tiniest, wildest dream.”

&nb
sp; “What was it exactly?”

  I shrug. “I have no idea, but that's out next mark. Sogni Più Folli. It means Wildest Dreams.”

  “Appropriately named.” Aiden smirks pulling up the object on the screen. “Here it is. Seems to be in the private collection of this guy.” A beat later he announces, “I'll take this information to Peter. After all, I do have a meeting to get to.”

  “A meeting?”

  “Business,” he sighs reaching for his shoulder bag. “I'll see you tonight at the party.”

  “What party?”

  “Our welcome home party of course.” He gives me a mysterious smile before exiting the room, leaving me to a million more unanswered questions. Why do they have to do that? Is that written in the Lost Boy code too? Must say things and leave before answers can be given?

  Unsure if I'm more annoyed or confused, I tuck the card back away and head up the stairs assuming I wasn't left completely alone. To my surprise I hear a steady stream of water coming from somewhere. Following the sound leads me to the door that's close to the other set of stairs. Slowly, I push the cracked door open to what has to be Belle and Peter's love nest.

  While I often imagined what sort of room “the king” would demand, I never pictured it'd be...well...this simple. There's a bed that takes up almost the entire space with a small single dresser drawer attached to it. To no shock, it's got a huge lock on it. There's a small flat screen TV across from their sleeping quarters and another side room, which I assume is the bathroom.

  Tip-toeing I head over to that door, slightly give it a push, and let the steam leak out directly in my face. I shield my face but manage to notice a reflection of the shower. While the glass shower is fogged, I can still manage to make out the outline of a woman. Before I was self-conscious because Belle looks fabulous in everything she wears. Now I know it's not just the clothing.

  I hang my head and give the door a soft knock. “Hey Belle, it's me.”

  “I know,” she hums as she turns off the water. “You're the only one who's polite enough to knock.”

  On a giggle I compliment, “Can you blame them? I mean you are insanely gorgeous.”

  She stretches for her towel to wrap around her flawless figure. “And the only female in the house until now. You might wanna start locking your door when you shower.”

  “Do all the boys walk in on you?” The question should really be rephrased knowing I only care if Justin has. I mean it's not like we're together or anything, so it shouldn't bother me if he's seen her naked...but it does. Just the idea of him seeing any other girl naked makes my stomach knot up. Crap. Is this really love?

  “You mean has Justin walked in on me?” Belle slips completely out of the shower. “Twice.”

  My stomach drops. “Twice?”

  “His first week here during what was his grand tour. Peter knew I was changing but came in anyway. It was a pathetic attempt to rub in his face that I was Peter's and no one else could play with me.” That sounds like something he would do. “The second time, the boys had all went out and gotten pretty smashed. Justin accidentally stumbled into my room as I was changing for bed.”

  “Oh.” The answers somehow please me yet make me uncomfortable with the idea of my body having to compete with hers in his mind even though he's never had feelings for her. Well that I know of.

  “Wow, you really do love him.”

  “But I―”

  “Don't have to say it honey.” Belle giggles to herself as she relocates to her vanity. “The expression is all over your face.” Not sure I can deny what she's saying, I watch her grab a long thin box. It reminds me of the kind they put bracelets in upon purchase. “Good thing you're here. This is always easier with two people.”

  “What?”

  Belle tilts her head to the side and uses her right hand to pull at something on one of her wings. Her face looks like one of discomfort and shortly after she instructs, “Come over here and pull this for me.”

  Obeying her command, I carefully reach out and place the thinnest gold strand between my fingertips.

  “Pull.”

  When I do, her entire body winces in pain. “Do you want me to-”

  “Pull.”

  I continue as her entire body shakes. I'm not sure if it's from the pain or from the cold air hitting her soaking wet body. Either way she looks purely miserable. The string is not easy to remove and requires me to pull with much more upper body strength than I think I have. The harder I yank the more she winces. When I see tears in her eyes, I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from begging her to let me stop. Finally, the strand is free as one single tear escapes onto her cheek.

  As if it's no big deal, she brushes away the tear, and exclaims, “Thanks!” Removing the treasure from my hand she winds it into the box, shuts the lid, and proceeds to dry her hair with another towel.

  Gawking in disbelief, I ask, “What the hell―”

  “A pod of fairy dust.”

  “Huh?”

  “I produce it.” Nonchalantly Belle starts brushing her hair. “Fairy dust is found in the tiny pods in the weaving of my wings. Crack them open and inside is the most pure, most potent Dust. We pull out the pod, take the Dust to be cut, mixed, and produced into a product we are known to supply. Our girls, BR and Ty, who you'll get the pleasure of meeting in about an hour, do all that hard work. Oh! For the record Ty's bitch is much worse than her bite.”

  The brief description of how the innocence of her body is turned into a drug silences me. She just uses herself like that? I wonder if it was her idea or Peters. Curiously I ask, “How often can you remove a string thing? And if that's where the Dust comes from then why is it you guys said we had a limited supply?”

  “Technically we do,” she replies as I notice her hair is dry from the simple brush. Does fairy dust magically do that too? “I produce it, but in order to remove it, I have to be wet from The Fairy Kissed Springs―all the water supplied through Neverland― and can remove no more than two pods within a certain span without essentially risking my own life. That was a scary night.”

  “You could die from removing the Dust from yourself?”

  “Too much,” she corrects me. “It'd be like suffering massive blood loss at an extremely accelerated rate in a small window of time.” Once her hair is complete, perfected in it's dry blonde and pink highlights, she settles down in her posh vanity chair. “Only pure Fairies make Fairy Dust, and there are not many of us left.”

  “Why not?”

  “You can thank the Great War of Worlds for that.”

  “The...huh?”

  “Long story.” She shrugs me off with a smirk. “Boring and full of details I don't care to discuss right now. Do I look like Aiden to you?”

  Giggling, I shake my head. “No. No you don't.”

  “Exactly.” Belle lifts up the entire counter top which displays an unreal amount of makeup. She has stands with rows and rows of everything a girl could dream of to dress up her face any way she dreams. “Anyway, I need you to go ahead and grab a shower. We've got a long night ahead...”

  Chapter 6

  Belle explains on the way to wherever it is we're headed, that promptly after we'll swing by and pick out our party dresses. I wasn't aware this welcome home party really is that big of a deal. She pulls the jeep over and parks it in a parking lot across the street from a busy strip mall, the way it would be on a place like Rodeo Drive. Prepared to cross the street over to the shopping center, I'm surprised when Belle yanks my arm the opposite direction towards an alley way.

  Slightly paranoid, I keep a look out knowing this is usually when Dark Watchers attack, but am thankful when we're in the clear. Belle taps the side of a long green dumpster and to my surprise, the side falls down exposing a door with metal bars. She slips a key from her back pocket, unlocks it, and an iris scanner pops up. She leans forward and allows it to access her eye. Once she's been cleared, the door slides down and she takes my hand leading me down a spiral staircase, the door
locking itself tightly behind us.

  Noticing several cameras watching us, I ask, “Where exactly are we going?”

  “Business,” Belle hums, her hands sliding into her super short jean shorts. She tosses me a look over her shoulder. “You don't really think I’d let the boys have all the fun do you?”