When Stars Fall

Chapter 7 - Starfall

Peter Pan took a swing.

It seemed as if the wind, the sky, and every star in the sky held its breath. Then the blade whirred through the air, and the fabric of Neverland trembled as the blade penetrated the mesh of the firmament.

☆

The glowing fairy blade slid through the weave of the night sky, and Peter hardly felt any resistance as if he was cutting no more than a thin piece of taut yarn. No sooner had the sword pierced the web than Pan could see the meshes loosening. Fine, luminous threads like spider silk shimmered in the light of the many stars, frayed into the ethereal glow, and disappeared as if they had never existed. For a second, Peter stared at the beauty in the chaos before his eyes.

In his chest, his heart drummed as wildly as a panicked sparrow. The single, secretly hidden sound in the suspended silence of stillness and night. Peter could see the blinding light of a star contracting, slipping out of the structure, the luminous form slipping from the holding fibers. The star began to fall. Peter let the fairy blade slip carelessly from his fingers. He didn't need it now, and t want the damn thing with him any longer than necessary. Everything he wanted and needed was right there in front of him!

Peter's gaze latched onto the star and shifted his position in the endless height of flight. Peter was already shooting forward, back into the depths, and toward the star, its light drawing a tail of rainbow colors behind him in the darkness. The blond stretched out his hands, those damn big, grown-up hands. Something inside him was tempted to wish back what the fairy queen had stolen from him ... but his guilt weighed heavier. And then, finally, he reached it. The star was so bright that Peter had to squint his eyes into narrow slits. But then he went for it, and an indescribable feeling flooded his body.

Peter had expected many things. The pain would immediately jerk through his fingers, and the star's light ate the flesh from his bones like fire. That the star fire would go out for some reason, or lick higher, spill over onto him, shine brighter ... but he did not reckon with the overwhelming feeling that the pure white light left on his skin. A pleasant, tingling warmth that felt more like delicate fairy wings on his fingertips instead of biting fire. His green-gold eyes widened in surprise, and Peter's breath caught. Then he blinked and pulled the glowing ball to his chest, close to his heart.

The wind rustled in his ears, and the fluttering of his clothes and hair around his features barely penetrated his senses. Peter concentrated with all his power and clung to the desire, the hope. He was an adult now ... he could only hope that the star would still hear him.

"I wish...," Peter murmured, and as he plunged back into the depths at breakneck speed, he squinted his eyes tightly as if that might reinforce his wish. "... that Michael, John, and Wendy are safe and alive again where they belong: with their parents."

Peter couldn't express what he was feeling at that moment. It was as if the words leaped from his lips and took on reality through the magic of the star. He opened his eyes and stared at the light streaming between his fingers. Suddenly there were glowing bright sparks, not unlike those dancing over a wood fire. They detached from the star in his hands, and Peter discerned a surface like liquid mercury beneath the glow. The bright fire groped for him, sliding over his hand and arms. But it did not burn either but leaped from him into the air and rose from there as if the stars remaining in the firmament had called out to the sparks personally. Peter watched the spectacle with glittering eyes. He could not hide his fascination and followed a wonderful spark while the star cooled in his fingers and became a clod of iron - just as Queen Titania had predicted.