Captain's Curse

Chapter One

  The waves lapped at the side of the galleon as it sliced through the freezing ocean waters. The ship rocked ever so gently, the sails filled with the easterly breeze. There wasn't a cloud in sight, a welcome change from the battering the ship had taken from a furious storm only two nights before. Henry watched his crew from the helm as they scurried about the ship, each man consumed either his assigned station and the tasks that came with it.

  "Pardon, captain, but where are we headed?" Henry had nearly forgotten about Smee, his soft-spoken second in command, until the balding man spoke up.

  Henry sighed. "Smee, if I told you, you'd never believe me. Let's just say we are going to find my brother, and leave it at that." He ran a hand through his dark brown hair and sighed.

  It had been six long years since he had left his brother in the hands of the fae and returned to London to join his majesty's royal navy. He had wanted a career, a way to provide for his younger brother and allow them to build a life. After six years of fighting, he had finally worked his way up to captain, and it came with a ship of his very own. The Jolly Roger. He had been granted a six month leave, just long enough to sail to Neverland, collect Peter, and get back.

  He had a small estate where he could settle his brother and he intended to hire a tutor to educate the lad. There would be no backbreaking labor or military ranks for Peter. He would have a better life. An easier life. Henry was determined to make sure of it.

  He wondered if Peter would even recognize him. Time stood still in Neverland, but returning to England had ensured Henry had grown from boy to a young man. His smooth face now carried a carefully groomed mustache and his once short, wild dark hair now reached his shoulders in dark ringlets that he loosely tied back from his face.

  He doubted Peter had changed much. Still the fun-loving playful thirteen year old with unkept red waves and boyish features. Peter always reminded Henry of their father, with his tall and lean frame and bright red hair. Henry had taken his mother's genes though, dark hair and thick frame that his military service had turned into muscle.

  Reminiscing caused a dull ache in his chest as he thought back to his parents' tragic ending. He had been only fifteen the night that the house had caught fire. Henry had managed to get Peter out through their bedroom window, but his parents hadn't escaped the flames.

  That was the night the fae had found them, huddled in the woods together freezing as Henry tried to comfort his crying brother. Taking pity on the distraught boys, the faeries had agreed to bring them to Neverland and care for them. Henry had been grateful, knowing good and well he was too young and inexperienced to be able to care for his brother on his own.

  He had been there to help his brother grieve, and when at last Peter seemed to return to his playful, childish antics Henry had asked to return home so that he could find a way to support his brother. After all, Neverland was not their home. They were humans. They had no place in the realm of the fae. Peter needed a place to grow with children his own age. An education. A home.
 
  "Smee, take the helm." He ordered his first mate, pulling himself out of his painful memories. The jolly old man obeyed without a word and Henry made the descent to the captain's quarters of the ship.

  A map laid sprawled across his desk, and he shifted it to align with a star map, showing the constellations of the sky. They were on the right track. The North Star sat just above them, but it was the second star to the right that he was interested in. There they would find the portal to Neverland, a thin veil that separated their world and the land of the fae; Neverland.

  With a sigh, he settled into the leather-backed chair at his desk and poured a glass of rum, the full burn of the alcohol settling his anxious thoughts. Glancing outside the window of the captain's cabin, he could see a storm brewing on the horizon and half-wondered if it wasn't an omen of the things to come.