This has been sitting on my pc for a while so I thought Iâd post some of it since some of the writing is decent. Enjoy.
What if I told you that belief was one of the most powerful forces in existence? Growing up, different versions of belief are passed down to us. Religion, willpower, philosophy, silly childhood legends like the Tooth Fairy. No matter how different, they all came from the same place. As we grow and learn, we gradually accept what we see in front us as the honest truth, and lose our capacity for wonder. So did I. For a long time, Iâve known that all these myths are based off of some form of truth. Humans take what is real and given and let their thoughts and emotions run wild. What I never knew, was that more often than not, the truth hides in plain sight, disguised as a silly story. What I never knew, was that fate was real, and mine was interwoven with these tales. What I never knew, was that the very stories I thought I grew out of, were the truth, and that Iâd come face to face with it. Â
        The town of Storybrooke looked exactly as the Shadow had expected it to. Despite the fact that it had been touched by powerful magic, it was still like any other place in this realm. After all, this was the realm without magic, and humans from this place were as boring as ever. Thatâs why he found himself still taking young boys back to the island, where order didnât matter, and only what you wanted and believed in did.
      Heâd had many opportunities to explore the place and observe how these unordinary people would deal with this unmagical place. He figured it out too quickly for it to be any fun. Of course, none of them believed in any form of magic, or even anything out there that could defy cold, hard logic. That was what the curse did to them. They lived in a constant cycle of waking up, working, falling asleep, repeat. The blessing of knowing such things like fairies, goblins, magic and the like exist had been stolen from them, and in being so, their happy endings had been stolen too. Perhaps he felt a small bit of sympathy for them. Because they no longer could believe in what was beyond their surroundings.
      But the Shadow was not here for Storybrooke. Even with their crazy little curse lifted, they were still a town in this realm of all, and he was not interested in it. What did interest him was the sudden arrival of something. Something strong, something pure, something important. It was almost familiar. Where had they been all this time? He couldnât say. He had sensed it long before now. It was the main reason why the Shadow willingly went through the trouble of coming to Earth, to find it.
Yeah, the guy he worked for sent him to pick up different children for his own agenda and he complied, but there was always this feeling that drove him to do it, something beyond this other personâs self-interest. The urge to pursue this something else just wouldnât go away no matter what. So, he went with it, discovering different children with the capabilities to believe over the centuries. Aimlessly searching. Hoping. Every time, they all turned out to be just another child. This time was different. This time, he was sure of it. It was like finding the missing corner of a treasure map, and he wanted it. Â
      Coming upon the secluded little settlement, he could sense that whatâd drawn him out here was not in the town itself, but a little to the south, nearing the small town very, very slowly. Luckily, the Shadow was not slow, so he took off in that direction. He had to congratulate Storybrooke. It was useful for once. If not for the locationâs prominent magical properties, heâd have never found the missing piece without Storybrooke as a vantage point.
      Sweet satisfaction flowed through him as buildings dwindled away into trees, eventually revealing a small highway road cutting through the woods. He felt himself getting close. At the sight of a small speck moving at ground level, the Shadow slowed to a halt, letting himself sink lower in the air until he could get a better look at it. It was right there. He felt it.
      It was small from where he was, but a figure was walking along the side of the road towards the town. The Shadow sank down further, stopping just above the tree branches, and crept up towards the road to get a better view. A hooded flannel covered their face and wrapped around a slim build. A backpack hung on their shoulders. Boots padded silently on the asphalt. As the speck strode onward towards Storybrooke, a small bright lock of hair swayed into view from underneath the hood, just for a split second. Whoever they were, they didnât seem like much, but there was no doubt that this stranger was who the Shadow had been spending a frustrating amount of time for. He inched closer from behind on the other side of the road, brimming with excitement. A little too close, and a little too fast.  Â
      Abruptly stopping, their head tilted upward, then whipped around in the Shadowâs direction. Good thing he was fast enough. He peered at her from up above, concealing himself in the pine trees. After doing a thorough 360, they began walking again, faster than they had before. The Shadow drifted along with them in the trees. A couple minutes must have passed before the strangerâs gaze began to move around. Eyes mingling with the road, the sky, the trees. A twig snapped on the ground. Flinching in response, the mysterious traveler pulled a small flashlight out and clicked it on, holding it up tightly in their fist.
      A rabbit below the Shadow stared back at the beam of light before hopping away into the brush. It was wise for the Shadow to stay still while in in the line of the targetâs vision. Their eyes moved upward into the trees and narrowed, their flashlight shining directly in his face. This was the time to be still and blend in. His target wasnât reacting rashly yet, but they shakily turned off their flashlight, keeping it in their hands as they broke into a light jog along the road.
If they werenât going to look back, the Shadow was going to take the liberty of moving to the other side of the road again, the opposing side to the mysterious person. He wouldnât come out though. Heâd stay in the trees, lowering to nearly ground level. But he wouldnât walk. No, he was much better at flying.
      As their jog sped up into almost a run, the Shadowâs speed matched theirs. It matched too well. Maybe it was how his white eyes stood out in the darkness. Maybe he was going too fast. Maybe the trees werenât concealing him well enough. Maybe it was all of them. No matter what it was, the hooded head turned in his direction and looked him dead in the eyes. Trying to hide was futile now.
      The figure halted again for a second. After breathing a quick, âWhat the hell,â they took off into the woods across the road from him. But it wouldnât matter how fast they sprinted through the wilderness or how many times their panicked, silvery voice called out for help. Storybrooke wasnât for another couple of miles, and soon they would have nowhere to run.
      It wasnât long before soon became now. Flying at full speed, the Shadow saw his target halt at the edge of the sea, with only sharp boulders below to greet them if they fell. Lucky for them, the Shadow would never let that happen.
      Glancing back at him, they started running along the rocky cliffs in a desperate attempt to put on as much distance as possible. Before they could get three steps in, the Shadow lifted them off the ground, silent against their desperate scream filling the air as they were whisked away into the night.
      It was quick, like it always was. First, they flew further and further out into the sky, wind picking up to hurricane speeds until there was no more wind to blow. Eventually, theyâd gone so far out, they got so close to the stars, you would begin to see them pass by like dots of dust in the air. Then they were enveloped in a misty darkness, swirling around them like a cyclone, eventually beginning to thin and shape out into a dark, flat line. As the dark mist faded away, stars appeared into view again and reflected back on themselves perfectly from the lower side of the fine line of darkness. As they moved along, a mass of land rose up above where the sky met the sea, growing rapidly in size as they neared at a fast pace. Only a few more seconds to get past the water and to the beach, lower to the surface.
      The Shadow glanced down at his guest of honor, wide eyes looking back up, filled with bewildered panic. He released his grip on soft hands and disappeared into the jungle.
      Muffled voices tugged on my conscious, finally making me crack one eye open. Something was moving around on the ground next to me, but I couldnât quite make out what through the haze in my vision and my dizzy conscience. While seconds ticked by, my focus moved in and out, drowning out most of the conversation happening above me with the exception of a few words every couple seconds. Â
      ââŠSlow downâŠâ A throaty voice with a nervous edge to it. Â
      ââŠWe made itâŠâ A higher, sweeter voice, maybe belonging to a woman.
      âAre you sureâŠmy momâŠâ
      ââŠAny clock towersâŠfrom StorybrookeâŠâ
      ââŠCan get here againâŠâ
      âWeâre not in the Enchanted ForestâŠâ
Then came the pain. A small groan escaped from my lips in response. Aching shot from my legs up to my head in waves that varied in severity. My whole body hurt like Iâd just taken a beating or fallen off a cliff.
      âHey! Hey are you alright-â
      ââŠAway fromâŠâ
      ââŠNeed our help!â
      ââŠGregâŠJust let himâŠMight be able to helpâŠâ Something grabbed my shoulder and shook violently. Then there was a high-pitched voice that felt much closer in proximity than it was. It was a childâs voice.
      âHey! Are you okay?â Forcing my body to roll over and sit up, propping myself up by the elbows, I finally got a good look at what was going on. Brown eyes looked right back at me, contrasting to very light toned skin. A dark jacket and a red scarf hugged his body. Dark, short, wet hair fell over his head. Why was his hair wet? He spoke again, âWhat happened to you? Are you okay?â
      I took my time sitting up, letting out a pained sigh.
      âWhat do youâŠâ My question started out barely even a whisper, so I cleared my throat and tried again. âWhatâd you mean?â I asked the young boy groggily. Feeling some kind of tickling sensation down on my forearms, I looked down at them and saw sand caked all along them. âOh, god what happened to me?â I began to start wiping the sand off my arms.
      âThatâs what I was wondering.â When I looked back at him, the boyâs face had turned into a look of concern.
      âGreg.â The womanâs voice from before cut into our conversation. She was a dark-skinned lady with long, damp hair falling over her back like a black curtain and a fancy beige coat over jeans and designer boots. Around her neck was a rose-colored, skinny scarf. Holding out what looked like a walkie-talkie, her chocolate eyes were darkened with concern. âIâm not getting a status light on this.â
      The man, assumingly Greg, walked over and took the radio from her.
      âThere are actual batteries in this thing, right?â When he popped the battery compartment open, grains of dirt sprinkled out and spilled out onto the beach. Silence and regret filled the moment that followed.
      âWhat the hell is this? A toy?â The lady snatched the radio away and glared at it, then at Greg, then at nothing.
      âItâs a good thing the home office can help us, right?â The boy said with a peculiar form of sarcasm in his tone. Gregâs face hardened. He quickly made his way over to me, narrowing his eyes down at me and crossing his arms once he stopped a couple feet away.
      He was a tall man with fair skin and a dirty blonde buzz cut on his head, the hairline clearly receding earlier than he hoped. He had tired blue eyes under furrowed eyebrows. He was wearing a navy, button-up dress shirt and a pair of jeans with a black belt around his waist, accompanied by dull-looking sneakers on his feet. Â
      âCan you stand?â I pushed myself onto my feet, wiping any stray grains of sand off my hands. The pain in my body had receded to my back and my head, pulsating in gentle throbs against my skull. Rubbing my temple, I stood up straight, balancing on my two feet once more. He replied with a single nod. âThen letâs get moving.â I raised my eyebrows.
      âInland.â A panicked form of confusion washed over me.
      âWait. Where even are we? Last time I was awake IâŠâ Then it all came rushing back to me. Dark woods. Twigs snapping. Shuffling in the trees. Empty white eyes. But Iâd just woken up, it all couldâve been a dream, right?
      If it was a dream, what was I doing here?
      Greg didnât give me much time to say anything before he stepped up to me and started to say something with an interesting amount of conviction in his tone. âLook kid, weâre going through a lot of trouble to do our jobs and we donât want to leave you here, but we will if we have to.â
      âThis is not a place you want to be alone in,â The woman added on from behind him. The young boy reached out for me, queueing my instincts to make me take a step back. He noticed, his hand frozen. The concern on his face deepened. Â
      âWell?â Gregâs stare didnât let up for a second. I couldnât even begin to think of a response. Last time I was awake I was on my way to some town in the middle of nowhere, nothing but money and survival on my mind. Then I get taken in the night by some strange dark figure in the shadows and thrown on a beach like a ragdoll, which I didnât even know how to process. After that, I donât know where I am or who these people are and they expected me to just shrug it off and go on their little adventure?
      âFine,â Greg said after a long pause. He turned and pushed the kid towards a jungle behind us. âWalk.â The boy glared back at him.
      âWhatever.â Staying behind for only a second to give me one last chance, the woman followed Greg and the boy.
      Humidity hung in the surrounding air, thick and heavy, clinging to every inch of me. Where I was, the width of the beach didnât stretch long at all. So, on the other side of the sand towered a line of trees that marked the border of a jungle. Massive trunks, with leaves Iâd never seen before where I was from, overlapped one another in great proportions as the shadows of nighttime blackened them, making it appear more mysterious than it already was.
      I gently smacked my lips together several times, finally noticing the dryness in my mouth, stretching all the way down my throat. Growing up in the city, I rarely had to excessively worry about basic human needs such as food or shelter, but in that moment, water was the only thing on my mind. Where would I find some though? The salt water would obviously not be of help.
High pitched noises from bugs emanated from the direction of the forest, and if I hadnât been in these circumstances, Iâd have almost found it calming. It almost felt like the mass of trees were calling to me, daring me to venture in and see if I could make it out.
      Still, make no mistake, the forest was dangerous. I didnât hike much in my life, but that didnât mean I was stupid enough to think this place was safe. But soon, my justified confusion over the recent current of events turned putty in me as it became a much more primal emotion. Fear.
The dark waters of the ocean stared back at me, layered waves crashing onto the shore, eventually bubbling up into foam as it reached a couple feet away before pulling back for another lap. Stars stretched out over the sky, which eventually traveled down and met a straight line with the darkened waters of the ocean.
Something round bobbed out of the water, a little beyond the waves. I squinted to get a better look at it and stumbled backwards in panic when bright yellow eyes glared at me. Get away from it, my conscience yelled, white empty eyes flashing in my mind again. A howl echoed throughout the area. Then another joined in. And another. Wolves.
Suddenly, dealing with Greg compared to what threats would arise without company sounded much more appealing. I didnât know much about surviving in the wilderness. Between creepy glowing eyes accompanied by the threat of wolves followed by dying of thirst and a couple people in the forest who made little sense but at least wanted to help me, my mind was made up.
I dashed into the undergrowth after the young boy, Greg, and the woman. Discomfort bloomed in my chest at the forest around me as it swallowed me up, but I kept moving forward until I heard rustling in the brush up ahead. When I glanced over in the direction of the shuffling, I saw damp hair and a beige coat push a mass of vines out of her way to move through the forestation. I hiked up behind her, clearing my throat. Once she glanced back at me, a look of understanding donned her features.
      âGood choice,â Her voice held a grim tone. Then she turned her back to me, beginning to move through the dense greenery again. She stopped abruptly, almost having ran into the young boy in front. She shoved him forward gently by the shoulder. âKeep going, kid.â
      âDo you know where we are?â I called from the back, pushing a glossy mass of leaves out of my way as I moved along. The lady answered me quickly.
      âNeverland.â My eyes widened into a bewildered frown, feeling a mix of confusion and offense swirl in me.
      âUhâŠis that some kinda code name for something?â The lady sent a look at me.
      âUh-huhâŠâ I couldnât let go of my skeptical tone. Whatâre you supposed to say to something like that? This was obviously a serious situation. A serious answer wouldâve been nice.  âWellâŠI donât suppose you know a place to get some water?â She halted in response and pulled her backpack over to her side to open it and pulled out a translucent, cylindrical water bottle, proceeding to hand it over to me.
      âHere you go.â In the moment I was too thankful for water to worry about her strange answers to my questions. I grabbed the water bottle, unscrewed the lid and downed large gulps of liquid, feeling it run through my body, replenishing me bit by bit. Thank goodness.
      When I was done drinking, only about a quarter of the bottle remained. Feeling a bit embarrassed, I screwed the lid close again, holding it out for her. She snatched it back, buried it in her backpack, and started moving again.
      âI donât know how long I was on that beach. Hopefully we can find a place with more water along the way.â
      âItâs okay, kid. We can get more. Thereâre rivers here.â That remark had earned another confused frown from me, though she couldnât see it with her back to me as we hiked. How screwed were we if we had to resort to rivers for water?
We trekked through the forest for a little while before Greg had us stop in a small clearing. Greg pushed the boy into a sitting position by the crook of his neck over an abandoned fire pit. Only then did I notice that his hands were bound by white rope. They werenât bound on the beach. I remembered that much. We were lost in the woods and they were tying this kidâs wrists together like he was dangerous to them. It was illogical. Then something struck me. If this was their job like Greg had preached about earlier, I wanted to know more about it. Â
      âWhy is he tied up like some kind of prisoner?â Greg answered me with a stern look.
      âKeep asking questions and we will leave you behind this time.â My stare deepened into a callous glare at him.
      âWhy? Do you have something to hide?â I didnât hide the hint of aggression in my voice. I narrowed my eyes. âGot something to say?â He glared back. After a pause, he replied.
      âYes. You and Tamara are gonna gather any dry leaves around here you can find. Do it if you want to survive this place.â If he had left out that last part, I might have walked right out of there, or worse, but I wanted to survive, so I complied hoping he knew what he was doing.
Regardless of my cooperation, I didnât have a one-track mind. I was suspicious of them now and I would not let go of it until I was sure they werenât dangerous. He pulled a box of matches out of his pocket.
âWeâve got a fire to build,â then he looked at Tamara, âIâll watch him. Go.â
      It wasnât long before Greg was kneeling over a small firepit that obviously hadnât been used in ages. Before any of the firewood that Tamara and I brought back, only a thin pile of burnt, blackened remains had been resting in the small circle of stones that marked the edge of the pit. He struck up a match and tossed it into the leaves.
      Iâd gone about my task as quietly as I could, trying to sneak glances back at Greg or Tamara when they werenât looking. Once I brought enough leaves back, Iâd chosen to sit down close to the fire, next to the young boy. I hid it, but the longer I stayed, the more defensive I felt. I found my eyes on Tamara or Greg, trying to observe their every move, but the boy started speaking to me, so I had to multitask.
      âIâm Henry, by the way.â His face curved up into a kind smile, the precious kind of smile that a kid gave you and made you feel warm and fuzzy inside. He seemed like many kids, the kind that didnât like to do their homework or eat their vegetables and still got injured doing something stupid in the house that mom yelled at them not to do, but had a smile that could lift your spirits effortlessly. It was hard to hate kids like that, which was most kids. I hoped his smile was genuine. Â
      âNice to meet you, Henry.â
      âWhatâs your name?â
      âEvie.â I whispered. He frowned.
      âWhy are we whispering?â
âItâs nice to meet you.â I said loudly. I bent my neck slightly, my head tilting in the direction of Tamara adjacent to us, then shook my head. Hopefully heâd get the message. I wasnât about to give Greg and Tamara my name while I didnât trust them. Then I let my eyes float back over to Greg and Tamara again as Greg searched for a good stoking stick and Tamara dried her hair. Guard, up.
Then an idea pulled me out of my mission, making me turn my head back to Henry. I hoped he might tell me a different answer from Tamara, because if anything, this kid didnât seem to be on their side. Maybe heâd give me a truthful answer about where Iâd ended up. Â
      âWhere are we?â
      âNeverland.â
      I rubbed my hand over my forehead. I shouldâve known better than to ask the little kid, âI was hoping for a serious answer.â
      âThat was a serious answer.â I had nothing to say to that, so I stared out into space, trying to forget any of this was happening and maybe just relax. But he started speaking again, pulling me out of limbo.
âThere arenât very many ways to get here,â The expression on his face was something in between concern and curiosity, âYouâre definitely from the same place I am. How did you get here?â I narrowed my eyes and stared into the firepit, contemplating whether I wanted to relive the horror from before. Â
âI donât want to talk about it.â The weak flames of the campfire began to downgrade into embers.
âAre you from Storybrooke?â
âNo. I was on my way there though, and then I ended up here instead.â
âWhat do you mean my thaâŠâ I interrupted him. Shaking my head at him, I motioned for Henry to pay attention. Any moment could be a moment for him to escape.
Greg leaned down and started blowing on the leaves, feeding the flames. In response to the oxygen supply, they began to jump up higher, finally surpassing the height of the firewood.
âHopefully we can signal the Home Office that weâre here. We canât finish this if we canât find them.â Tamaraâs expression turned grim at Gregâs words.
âWhat if thatâs not enough?â She began, âWhat if that communicator sham wasnât an accident?â Greg frowned at her, then spoke.
âHey, donât listen to the kid. Heâs trying to get into your head.â
Rustling leaves and footsteps cut off the commotion. A cloaked boy stepped out from behind the brush. And another one. And another one. It was a swarm of them, all carrying various stone age weapons. I was up on my feet immediately, helping Henry get up.
âWeâre the Home Office,â The tallest one answered Greg in a mocking tone with a dangerous looking club resting on his shoulder. Blonde locks fell over his face in wild side bangs, blue eyes flashing with danger. A red scar ran over his face, stretching from his mid cheek to the bridge of his nose. If Iâd asked, I was sure thereâd be quite a story behind that mark. His face spread into a threatening smile. âWelcome to Neverland.â
âThe Home Office is a bunch of teenagers?â
âTheyâre not teenagers. Theyâre the Lost Boys.â
âLook at that,â the scarred boyâs reply almost sounded like a congratulations to Henry.
Henry frowned. âWhy do the Lost Boys want to destroy magic?â
âWho said we wanna destroy magic?â
âThat was our mission,â Greg cut in.
âSo you were told.â The tall guyâs gaze floated around for a second before it landed directly on Henry. âNow, the boy. Hand him over.â Tamara crossed her arms and came up next to Greg.
âNot until you tell us the plan. For magic, for getting home.â Something felt familiar about the direction this conversation was going. Watch enough action movies and âbad guysâ turning on each other becomes predictable. But even more so, Henry seemed to be the catalyst in all of it. Some kind of bargaining chip. A target. He was a prisoner and a child. I wasnât a hero, but it was instinctual for me to feel protective over a kid who seemed to be nothing but collateral to the eyes of adults.
I poked Henry to get his attention. His eyes looked up at mine and I took a step back from the other bodies in the clearing.
âYouâre not getting home.â The blond boy answered Greg without a hint of mischief on his face. An ominous silence passed through the air. He was being honest, like a magician revealing all his tricks. As though he tricked them.
âThen youâre not getting the boy.â Taking another step back, I sent an alarmed look at Henry. When he glanced back at me, he seemed to get the message. It was time to run.
The blond boy let out an arrogant chuckle in response. âOf course we are.â Something in between a gasp and a roar sounded from up above, and white eyes came at Greg, reaching its limb inside him and pulling out something dark and translucent. This was it. I tore my gaze away from Greg, trying to forget what Iâd just witnessed and let the animal inside me break loose. The animal that would do anything and everything to survive, just like always.
I took off into the trees, trying to get us the fastest head start possible from this massacre. I heard something slump on the ground back towards the campfire as we went running into the woods. Then I heard footsteps close behind mine. A quick glance behind me told me it was Henry, following me.
Loud, collective footsteps followed Henry and I as we breezed past trees and underbrush. Over the whooping and howling from what I assumed were the feral boys weâd just ran into, a high-pitched scream echoed behind us, and I knew instantly it had to be Tamara.
âYep! Keep running!â I answered Henry, pulling him along by the ropes on his hands. I stopped and pushed him in front of me. They wanted him, not me. Better if Iâm in back. I could handle it. I started running again, this time right behind Henry. A snapping sound echoed through the air, and then an arrow whistled past my head, right through my hair, making it woosh over my back.
My eyes followed the line of fire back to a cloaked figure, a mask covering the bottom half of his face, a bow in his hand aimed right at me. He reached over his shoulder for another arrow, and I pushed Henry forward again. Thankfully, the thickening forest must have disturbed the archerâs view of us because there werenât more arrows.
âGo!â We got a little further into the forest before Henry tripped over a bulge in the ground. I was lucky not to have run into him. When I held my hand out for Henry, before he could take it, another hand reached out and grabbed it, pulling him up and over behind a dirt mound to the left. I immediately followed hastily, ready for a fight before I saw him kneeling next to Henry, listening.
Footsteps loudened and then softened. A shriek sounded nearby. âWhereâd he go?â Â
The boy who pulled Henry aside pulled his hood down. He looked to be about the same age as me, though he wasnât much taller than I was. Maybe a couple inches height difference. Angelic facial features looked down at Henry, eyes matching the green of the forest with a silvery hue from the moonlight. Short, thick, tawny locks curled over his forehead into wild bangs, giving him a look of innocence.
âPanâs forces are in tune with every grain of sand on the island,â A smoky voice with an elegant British accent rolled off from his lips in a serious tone. âWe must be careful.â He bent down, picked up a jagged-looking stone, and moved his hands down to Henryâs rope bindings.
âA-are you a lost boy?â Henry asked.
âI was,â he exhaled sharply as he sawed the ropes off of Henryâs wrists, letting the stone drop to the ground, âBut I escaped. Now theyâre after me too.â
âHow? What happened?â
âNo time for questions.â At first that response made me suspicious. But I suppose it made sense with armed boys scouring all over the island for us now with some crazy white-eyed demon on their side, which I still didnât fully understand.
Then he looked my way, as if finally noticing me. Something sparked to life in his eyes and then died as quickly as it came. Could I tell if it was something malevolent or evil? No. I could not. It was only there for a second, but a second was long enough for me to see it. It was something, and it was ambiguous as far as I was concerned. That was reason enough to put my guard up.
And here out of reach from public authority, if someone kills, they kill. If someone dies, they die. Thereâs no one to punish anybody for committing something unethical out here. There was no right and wrong, and I would be an idiot to expect that from anybody I met here, even if they appeared friendly to me at first. Like with Henry, this guy might have been nice now, but he lived a life as complex as my own. He didnât have to look evil to be evil.
âSheâs stuck here too. We all need to get out of here.â Henry cut in, referring to me. The boy nodded hesitantly in my direction, then looked back at Henry.
âAlright. We must keep moving. Come on.â He stood up, pulled Henry onto his feet and pushed him through the trees, following behind closely. Getting out of here was the best thing Iâd heard someone suggest since I got here, wherever we were, so I hurried along after them.
The running just wouldnât end. Every time we slowed down a little, footsteps would grow louder or weâd hear voices nearby, clearly belonging to young boys. So here we were, Henry, mystery boy, and me bringing up the rear as we ran through the jungle from a bunch of teenagers. Eventually it got to a point where we hadnât heard any voices for a long while and the only footsteps we were hearing were our own.
We slowed to a halt in a small clearing of boulders towering over us. Henry and I panted loudly, mystery boy letting out a small huff. He must have been out here for a while to have stamina like that. Or then again maybe Henry and I were just out of shape. I couldnât tell what was under the boyâs cloak. He had simple brown, tattered pants tucked into tall boots, but under his violet-hued cloak, I couldnât see the upper half of his body. Â
âI think we lost them.â He whispered.
âOkay, can we rest for a minute?â Henry requested. Mystery boy nodded hesitantly. I rested my hands on my knees, letting my breaths slow down while Henry rested on a smaller rock.
âYouâre new. Did the Shadow take you too?â My eyes went wide, as if heâd said a familiar name in a crowd of strangers. A Shadow? White eyes stared me down from my memories.
âNo, I was kidnapped by some people who work for Pan.â The boy exhaled sharply in response to Henry, apology in his eyes.
âIâm sorry.â There was a moment of silence before he spoke again, but I had questions of my own and I was itching to get them out. âIf he sent for you, he wants you, and if he wants you, he will get y-â
âExcuse me?â His irises flickered over to me, darkened by the shade of the trees. âWhatâs this about a shadow?â He stared at me for a couple seconds instead of answering me immediately like heâd answered Henry.
Thunder boomed in the distance, white flashes concentrating in the sky a long way away over the water.
Then his eyes moved to look behind me, alarm growing in his eyes. My heartbeat quickened again when Henry started to get up very slowly.
âWhat?â I whispered. But I felt I already knew what they were going to tell me. The boys backed away from me slowly, their hands up in the air like theyâd been caught at a crime scene.
âBehind you!â Henry gasped.
When I spun around, eight very large eyes stared back down at me. Then it lunged at me with its giant fangs.
No time for questions. This was life or death. I was lucky to have dodged it, even if I had to throw myself to the ground at my left side to get out of the way. It knocked the wind out of me, and that hurts, but it was either that or something much worse.
Because Iâd been able to dodge it, the giant spider ended up chomping down on the boulder behind me, severing most of it off in big chunks, which fell in between me and the boys. The bug quickly crawled onto the rubble and roared at me, back turned to Henry and mystery dude. They were definitely panicking over on the other side, though I couldnât see them. But their hysterical shouts made it through the spiderâs angry noises even if I couldnât decipher them into words. I could only make out one word from Henry.
And thatâs exactly what I did.
