⇒ CHAPTER SEVEN

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  WILMA WAS DISTRAUGHT at first, she admitted that, but once she admired the drawings covering the stone walls of the cave and thought about younger Neal, she ended up smiling. The place was beautiful, and even though not an ideal home, it seemed surprisingly cozy too — Wilma was glad Neal had found a place like that instead of being Pan's prisoner, and that he eventually got out of Neverland. That was still something they were trying to figure out — his method when it came to escaping, because they needed one, they needed an exit plan to finish off their otherwise dandy plans.

  The roaming around the cave paid off, because eventually, two halves of a coconut were discovered — one full of holes, and the other holding a small candle within. The only problem was that no one knew what it was supposed to be, but Snow offered some of her own thoughts, only to receive a sassy remark from Regina in response.

  "Maybe it's a tiny colander?", the princess suggested, looking from aside as Emma twirled the pieces in hand with an observing look.

  "Yes, because pre-teen Baelfire probably made lots of pasta", Regina stated coolly, but the sass in her tone was downright smoking, and it made Wilma giggle as she glanced at the queen, who returned the faint smile.

  But Emma, as a smart woman, figured it out, and when Killian snuffed the torch lighting up the cave and she put the two halves together, the light of the candle pushed through the holes on the other end and illuminated the ceiling. Gasping in adoration, Wilma looked up along with everyone else, and it was safe to say her jaw was smacked open once her brown eyes met the map of stars visible on the stone, beautiful, like the dwarf mines full of little diamond embedded into the ceiling. It stole Wilhelmina's breath away, and a tear potentially slipped from her eye when Emma pointed out that it was a map, one that was going to lead them to home.

  But it wasn't quite so simple, after all — but when were things, anyway? They rarely worked out so wonderfully, without some effort, even though in Wilma's opinion, they had worked quite hard to get this far, only to be smacked in the face with yet another complication. According to Killian, the only person who could read the map was Neal himself — in other words, the only person who could read the map was dead. It felt like a bitter frostbite on her heart, stinging and causing Wilma to gulp, but the thought wasn't as painful as it turned out to be when Emma spoke it aloud, sighing at the realization that not only was finding Henry and escaping from Neverland borderline impossible, but that Neal was, indeed, gone.

  The upsetting facts that seemed to be everything they could all think about, drove Emma out of the cave and encouraged her parents to follow after. Wilma didn't blame her for having weak moments — it was only human, everyone had weak moments, but granted, she tried to keep hers hidden. With Henry as Pan's prisoner, David on the verge of death, and Emma struggling already, Wilma didn't deem it necessary to draw attention to herself and insist that she, too, was tiptoeing on the thin line between hope and a complete breakdown.

  Nevertheless, Killian noticed the faint, suppressed pain shadowing the smile she tried to maintain. With slow steps, the man approached Wilhelmina, whilst she stood by one of the walls and admired the drawings covering them, and once he cleared his throat, he succeeded on earning Wilma's attention. Their eyes met, and something inside Wilma flared instantly with affection and desire, and even though Killian was frowning, the sight of him in all of his ridiculous beauty made Wilma smile, sincerely this time. Of all the confusing, scary things she had encountered during their time in Neverland — whether she was awake or asleep — one thing that made the most sense was her feelings for him. Even though she had no intentions to let him know, she couldn't help but feel happy, just because they were friends, at the very least, and she got to enjoy his company. And in his eyes, flickered a hint of worry, which tugged on the woman's heartstrings — how could one be so utterly marvelous?

A KIND OF MAGIC ↝ Killian JonesWhere stories live. Discover now