Panic

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Five

            I woke up in a cold room.  I was lying on a comfortable bed, feather from the feel of it.  Globes of light hung in the air, supported by nothing.  I looked up at the stone ceiling and the night before come back to me in a rush.

            Don’t look behind you.

            My clothes, stored in that valise.  The tunnels, me splitting up with Edward and Percy.  Thomas and James leaving us.  Peter and Hook at the compound, waiting for us to come home.

            I looked down and saw my shadow.  I breathed a sigh of relief, but then ice filled my veins.  How was I supposed to get out of this?  Where was everyone?

            Don’t look behind you.

            I knew, right then and there, the first chance I got to kill Fonce, I wouldn’t hesitate.  I’d swing that sword with all the power I had in me, and I would watch that evil face dissipate into nothing.

            But right now, I couldn’t do anything.  I stood up, and noticed that I was in the pale blue dress.  My crystal necklace was around my neck.  The gold chain with the tube of pixie dust was nowhere to be seen.  The weapons I had were gone, along with the dagger I kept tucked in my boot.  My boots had also disappeared, along with my other clothes.  I felt the whalebone of my corset against my rib cage.  I shuddered, not wanting to think about how I’d gotten into the outfit I was currently dressed in.

            I walked over to the door, and pulled on the handle.  It was locked, as I had expected.  The room had no windows; all of it was the grey rock of the cave I’d been in earlier.

            Hopeless, I went back to the bed and flumped down on it in a poof of blue chiffon and white lace.  There was no way to escape.  I was most certainly trapped.

            There was a knock on the door.  “Who is it?” I asked.

            I saw the handle turn, and I attempted to bring as much of George Darling’s stiffness and authority into my posture as humanly possible.  I set my face, immobile, and Fonce stepped into the room.  He was in a humanoid form, his eyes a glittering black, but looking exactly like Peter in all other respects.  Somehow, in real life, he was even scarier than he’d been in my dreams.

            “Well,” he said, looking me over.  “You clean up nicely, Wendy Darling.”

            I raised an eyebrow but said nothing.  Fonce smiled, clearly amused.  He walked over to stand in front of me.

            “Did I offend you?” he asked.  “Are you not pleased with the comfortable room you have here?”

            Again, I said nothing.  Fonce wandered over to the place where my shadow hit the pillow.  I shifted in my seat, and his grin widened.

            “Uncomfortable?” he asked, reaching out a hand to the pillow.  I jerked, and he laughed.  “If you talk to me, I won’t touch your precious shadow.”

            I bit the inside of my cheek, wondering to what lengths I would go to protect myself.  Fonce touched my shadow, and I winced in pain.  “Fine,” I said.  He removed his hand and came back in front of me.

            “Well, I’m glad we got that all sorted out,” Fonce said with a tone filled with mockery.  “So tell me: why did you come here?”  I didn’t say anything, and he groaned, clearly frustrated.  “Need I remind you of the situation you are in?” he asked.  “You are completely at my mercy, and I will tell you, my store of mercy is quickly dwindling.”