The Golden Arrow [ONC 2022]

Four

Hook instructed that they follow the coastline and by the time they rounded the final bend, a sheen of sweat coated Robin's entire body. His brown hair was plastered against his head and not for the first time, he missed the northern chill of Sherwood. The sun had been rising steadily in the sky all morning, the day growing increasingly warmer until only the open sea breeze kept Robin from heatstroke.

"We're nearly there," Smee murmured but even he'd grown red-faced from the rowing.

Robin nodded and glanced at where Hook was keeping a steady eye on a large rock they steered for. The captain had hardly spoken since they'd hit the water. In fact, the trip had been mostly silent except for the sounds of waves crashing against the side of the boat and the occasional slapping of a fin on the surface of the water.

"Tell me," he said to Smee. "What's so special about this flute?"

The other man's flicked between Robin and the captain who was steadfastly ignoring them. "It belongs to Pan."

As if that were explanation enough.

"How long have you wanted to get your hands on it?"

Smee gave him a withering look but admitted, "Years. Longer than you've been alive."

"That doesn't make sense," Robin commented slowly. "Both of you are about the same age I am. Mid-twenties, hmm?"

"We were when we arrived in this place," Hook said without turning. "But as I said, nothing in Neverland is as it seems and that includes aging. While we're in the isle's purview, we don't age. We've been here over sixty years."

Shock pulsed through Robin, his mouth falling open to gape at them. In his bout of distraction, he missed a stroke with the oar and had to resync his pattern with Smee.

Sixty years on this island. Sixty years of being stagnant. Sixty years of feuding with Peter Pan.

"Why do you stay?" Robin asked after regaining the ability to speak. "What happened between you and Pan."

"The story is much too long to get into now," Hook told him, turning at last. His eyes were endlessly blue and fierce. "The short version is that Peter was partly responsible for the deaths of my parents and he killed the woman I loved."

"And in sixty years, you haven't been able to repay him for those deaths?"

"He's still alive. Until he's dead, I won't leave this place."

Robin glanced at Smee, questions still lingering.

"It's complicated," Smee sighed.  "Peter secured an alliance with the fairies of Neverland and they offered him protection. As long as he's on Neverland, he can't be killed. They've taught him some magic but I expect it's nowhere near as potent as the sorcerer who sent you. I've never known anyone who could make portals.  The only way to portal out of Neverland is through mermaid tears and the mermaids of this realm hate Peter. They'd never give him their tears."

Mermaids.

There were freaking mermaids in this realm.

Robin had never encountered the half-fish half-human creatures that dwelled in the depths of the sea but he'd heard enough stories over the years to make him dread any encounter he should have. Though from the mild and unconcerned look on Smee and Hook's faces, perhaps the stories weren't quite as they appeared.

Still, he committed the tip about their tears to memory. He'd never travelled by mermaid tears. Only magic beans, mirrors, Jafar's magic, and whatever the hell Glinda had put on his shoes to get him out of Oz.