I keep waiting. Tink's words play on a loop in my mind: Pan will come for you. You must let him.

It's been one hour since we left Golden Grove. I wonder if Tink made it to Pan –if she managed to convince him –if the first seed has in fact already been planted.

Salt still considers me a fool, though he is getting more adept at controlling his tongue. He won't admit his lack of trust in my judgment.

"We should clean up here." I decide as we approach a stream.

I pull my blouse over my head, sprinkling faery dust residue into my hair as I do so, a remnant of our trip to the heart of the island.

"Darling!" Salt's eyes bulge as he finds me in my undershirt. "You're indecent!"

"Honestly," I almost laugh, shaking my head. "I'm still wearing a camisole."

"Cover up, would yeh?" His cheeks turn red as he tries not to look in my direction.

This coming from the man who is nearly always shirtless –the man who wants to travel the globe with me! Yet here he stands abashed about my clingy undergarment!

"As you wish." I roll my eyes.

The sun is high above us. I left Salt on the bank of Croc Creek in almost the exact spot I first met him. I found a freshwater tide pool a few yards from Shell Sound. The water trickles over the pebbles in the shallow pool and my feet hardly feel the wet as I cross it.

I've never prayed so hard to see Pan. I've never wished every rustle of leaves were from him more than I do right now.

Pan will come for you.

But where was he?

An hour passes and I consider returning to Salt.

I feel deflated. Each passing minute Pan does not find me is one minute less to our end goal. A large tree trunk dislodged from the rocks in the water and a great snapping sound echoes. The spark of hope returns as I hear it on the wind.

A flute.

I crane my neck to search all around the quiet pebbled nook. Each sway of the willow branches brings more of the melodious notes.

Pan emerges from the treetops, swooping low and landing on the brook beside me. I find myself paralyzed by his proximity.

"Wendy," Pan says, head tilted. He seems calm, tranquil, and so unlike the last time I saw him on Skull Rock.

"Pan." I bow my head.

"You are alone today," he says. I can't tell if he sounds skeptical or happy about this observation.

"Salt is over on the creek. Not far from here," I murmur in defense.

"Far enough," Pan says, shrugging.

Yes.

He thinks he's caught me alone, unsuspecting –off guard.

Pan saunters towards me, bridging the safe gap between us. His bare chest is inches from mine and I inhale his perfume of forest and flower. Even the dark dust smells sweet on his skin.

"Come with me?" He says it like I have a choice –like it's an offer and not a demand.

You must let him.

I lift my eyes from his hand to his head and, allowing the appropriate amount of hesitation to pass, I place my hand in his palm.

He kicks off from the earth like a rocket and in no time at all we are high above the island. The aerial view of Neverland never gets old.

I cling to Pan's arm, more solid and steadying than that of Shadow Pan's. How different it is to fly with Pan beside me. It's elating.

Pan weaves through the valley and gulley of Neverpeak Mountains, soars over the treetops of Neverwood, and skims the surface of Mermaid Lagoon.

With every twist and turn I feel that insurmountable rush of pleasure.

Pan peers at me sideways, smirking. I roll my eyes in annoyance but I can feel my lips smile back.

Damn.

After circling the island twice, Pan steers us north. I frown at the deviation from the direction to Hangman's Tree.

We zoom headfirst into the heart of the island -mere yards from the faery dwelling. My bones tense.

Pan veers right, circumventing the gilded lands of Golden Grove, and lands us atop a steep precipice. I see cave after cave, waterfall after waterfall. The strongest and tallest of them all drops from the top of our perilous cliff.

Devil Falls.

"Why have you brought me here?" I ask, finding my voice.

"To discuss the terms of our compromise, of course. I trust you have not forgotten my offer?" Pan's brows arch.

I shake my head.

"Now, I did tell you to sleep on it. And now that you've had more than a night... What will it be?"

Pan stares at me from the edge of the escarpment, teetering dangerously on the heels of his feet. Some would find this brave, but I see through it. He's the only one on Neverland that could plunge to the bottom and survive the fall. Wouldn't stop me from trying to shove him over the side.

"I will do it." I snap overzealously.

"You will?" Pan narrows his eyes.

"Yes, yes. But you must swear to let my brothers return home. You must vow never to cull again." I stress the disgusting word.

"A bargain," Pan smirks.

Pan and I stand beneath the waterfall; the misty spray speckles our skin. My trousers dampen and the arm of my blouse clings to my skin. I push my strawberry hair back, tucking a flyaway behind my ear.

I move to the left and he responds by moving to the right. He moves; I move. We circle each other like two opponents bracing for a sword fight. Pan smiles; I smile.

"Wendy," Pan says after a while.

I'm aware of how close he is to me –of how secluded we are behind the rippling curtain of water. Does anyone know we are here? Would it not be easier to give in and just stay on Neverland with Pan? Perhaps in time I'd grow immune to him like all the Lost Boys. Perhaps in time, I could love him.

Yes.

"Wendy." His musical voice quivers. A chill runs up and down my spin and I cannot help but shiver.

The way he looks at me –well, it makes me believe in things. It makes me believe in him and in myself when I'm with him. I part my lips, breathing him in. A dark shimmer on his cheekbones reflect the light back at me.

"You will make an excellent Mother. In time, I hope you'll find happiness here," Pan says. He's reading my mind again –knowing all my worst fears.

"I h–hope," I stutter. I pray my eyes look trusting, willing even. I pray I am skilled enough to deceive the greatest trickster I've ever known.

Pan's deep gaze sets my soul on fire. The breath from his mouth mixes on my skin with the moisture from the falls.

"I'm sorry for this," he says, suddenly.

I open my mouth. "For wha–"

Pan grabs my wrist and drags me under the gushing waterfall and into a rock cave reminiscent of the dungeon on Skull Rock.

"Stop! What are you doing?" I struggle against his force.

"–For your own good," he fires.

Pan slams me into a corner cave and pushes a boulder in front of the entrance. I turn to face him through the one-foot opening.

"What do you mean?" I shout.

"My insurance policy," Pan utters, blasé. "So you aren't tempted to escape again as I see to... preparations."

First I'm kept in the dungeon and now I'm locked away in a tower. When will I outgrow being a damsel in distress?

Pan retreats down the dark alley between the cave rooms.

I search my cave cell, frantically reaching into every nook and cranny, feeling every inch of rock for a way out. With all my weight I push against the chest-high boulder blocking the exit. The stone does not yield.

My heart hammers inside my chest. How long will I be trapped here? Is this part of the plan? Did Tink ever reach Pan?

Where is Salt now?

The internal questions flood my mind. I wish I could turn off the spigot.

I think about the next few days –about how everything will unfold. Mostly my mind is consumed by visions of the Dark Faery. Make-believe visions of course, as I do not know who or what this sinister force is.

How is it possible that no one –not even the faeries –has seen this dark being? For all we know the Dark Faery could be Pan himself! It could be his own magic he uses to rip souls and bind them to his eternally.

Our plan would surely fall to pieces then!

Several hours later and the natural light inundating the caves of Devil Falls begins to weaken. I know the day is passing swiftly by as I remain prisoner.

Salt must be worried now. Perhaps Tink is with him and they are plotting my rescue.

I have not seen or heard Pan in some time, but still I continue to call to him.

"Pan! PAN!"

I know it's no use. Even if he is close enough to hear me, my pleas fall on deaf ears.

He has yet to return.

And I have yet to stop wanting him to.