Red was near-panic. It had been a full minute since she and Theseus had jumped into the water, and she had no idea where he was. She remembered with alarming clarity how he had been stabbed by the hook, and wondered if that had affected his leap from the Jolly Roger.

She heard a splash to her left. "Theseus?" she called, reaching for her club. If it wasn't Theseus, she didn't know who it was.

"Only me," Peter Pan answered. "I've got Theseus; he's unconscious." Peter grunted. "And heavy."

Red swam over to them, finding Theseus a little way's away from where they had jumped. Peter was struggling to support the Greek, and Red slipped under his other arm. "Merci," she said to Peter. Not only had he saved Rapunzel, but he had also saved Theseus. She forced herself to adjust her opinion of children.

As they swam away from the ship, Hook's curses at his crew ringing in his ears, Peter snorted. "I've no idea what you're saying."

"I said thank you," Red explained. "For saving Theseus and Rapunzel."

"Thank you for saving Wendy Darling," Peter replied. "To be honest, I planned on leaving you to deal with it yourself, but I...I felt guilty, I guess. It's not my way to leave things in Neverland to strangers."

Supporting Theseus and swimming was a difficult process, and Red couldn't muster the energy to respond. They swam silently to the shore, where Rapunzel, Merlin and Wendy Darling were waiting. They pulled Theseus in and Red and Peter hauled themselves onto the sand.

As much as they wanted to just lay on the sand and fall asleep, there was the chance the pirates would follow them. They staggered to their feet, Red and Merlin supporting the half-conscious Theseus, and made their slow way back to the Lost Boys' hideout.

When they reached the hideout, there was a resounding cheers from the Lost Boys to see their "mother" Wendy safe. Her two brothers John and Michael ran out and flung their arms around their petite sister enthusiastically. Peter joined in their celebrations while Red and Rapunzel took Theseus to a quiet corner to tend to his injury.

Merlin went and found Wendy after a while, sitting in a corner watching the boys dance around the fire. "They're very excited," Merlin noted. He wore a shirt and breeches, his robes drying from his unexpected dip in the water.

"They're boys," Wendy said, shrugging. "What do you expect? I would say that you would understand—you look only a bit older—but I suspect since you're Merlin that you are only choosing to appear as that age."

Merlin turned and eyed her. "You're a bit odd for fourteen-year-old girl," he said. "Tell me—you know where the Editor is, and you know I'm Merlin the sorcerer. My question is, who are you, and how do you know all these things?"

Wendy drew her nightgown around her, picking at the soggy dress while avoiding Merlin's eyes. "You wouldn't believe me."

"I've seen things that would astonish you," Merlin answered. "I'll believe you, whatever you tell me."

"Alright," Wendy said reluctantly. "I'm a former Guardian and the Editor is my cousin."

Merlin blinked at her. She smiled ruefully. "I knew you wouldn't believe me," she muttered.

"No—no, I do," Merlin said. "It just took me by surprise. But you're only a child!"

"I was made a Guardian at age fourteen," Wendy explained. "The first Guardian, in fact. Ah, well. I've told you this much. I may as well start at the beginning." She smoothed the wrinkles in her nightgown and faced Merlin, her blue eyes glowing with intensity. "When we were children, me and the Editor were best friends—basically sisters. We lived in a remote town, with no other children near us. We played constantly, but more often we sat together and told each other stories. When we were little, less than ten years old, it was always fairy tales. Beauty meets her prince and gets married, the prince awakens Briar Rose, Cinderella is found by the prince...we dreamed of that happening to us.

"As we got older, we started getting into other tales as well. The Greek, Norse, Roman, and Egyptian lore, King Arthur, Robin Hood...those stories fascinated us. They weren't the happily ever after stories we'd grown up with. But what most disturbed the Editor was that all of these tales were separate. She thought such wonderful things should be together.

"So she came up with the idea of writing a book. She wanted to compile every tale we'd ever told each other into one book and introduce it into the world for everyone to enjoy. We struggled with the name for a week until she decided upon the name The Story. It would be the greatest story ever told, after all, and she wouldn't budge from the name. It was then that The Story was born." Wendy stopped for a moment, lost in thought. Merlin almost pushed her until she went on, "It only took us a year to write the whole thing. Or should I say, she wrote the whole Story. I barely did anything but cheer her on and wish her the best. She wouldn't let me touch it. It was her baby, her Story, and I never had much to do with it. In truth, I'd lost interest by the time she finished. How can one keep interest in a project you have nothing to do with? But finally, she finished, and at last she invited me to see it.

"What I didn't know was the Editor had magic. At the time, my parents and hers had a falling out and my parents were preparing to move away. I couldn't imagine leaving my cousin, and it broke my heart when she finished The Story the day before I was to leave. She invited me in, so enthusiastic; it was as if she didn't care that I was moving away.

"She was older than me, twenty-one I think. Married and a baby just born. She'd hardly noticed the boy; she hadn't even named him. She'd lost interest in her husband not long after they were married, and she still lived in the same town as I did, with her parents. I felt like she didn't care for anything anymore. Not her husband, who loved her dearly, not her parents, who were greatly frustrated with her, not her son, the boy with the sweetest brown eyes—not even me. She was so excited when she showed me The Story, though." Wendy bit her lip hard. "She showed me how it worked. She wrote her own son into The Story, to show me she could. He vanished right before my eyes, and then she wrote her husband in as well. I didn't care. I was a child, thrilled with the discovery. And she told me someone had to protect The Story and the several copies she'd made, and she made me a Guardian. Unlike most Guardians, I was in The Story, protecting it from the inside until I made a slight mistake."

"You were written in as Wendy," Merlin guessed.

She nodded. "Trapped as a child forever," she said. "At the start of The Story, I visited the Editor quite often. Now, however, I haven't seen her in several cycles of The Story. I think she's quite forgotten me. Long story short, I know where she resides in The Story, and, being a former Guardian, I can send you there. I must warn you that she probably knows you're coming."

"I know," Merlin admitted. "And I know we're probably marching to our Final Deaths. But I cannot abandon Rachel Andric. She's our last hope."

Wendy gently took Merlin's hand, a look of childish innocence in her eyes. "God bless you, Merlin," she whispered. A Story door opened behind her. "And that is your door."

Merlin collected Red and Rapunzel from the party. When discussing their departure with Theseus, the young Greek confessed he would do nothing but slow them down and remained behind. Merlin and the two girls said their quiet farewells to Wendy Darling, the first Guardian, before going through the door.

They walked right into a trap. Merlin's heart fell when a sword was pointed right at his throat, and before he could motion the girls back through they were at his side. The door closed behind them.

Merlin's old enemy Mordred smirked at him. "Welcome to the Editor's home," he said. "She'll be pleased to see you."