Lost Girl || Complete

Chapter 14: The Council

    “Neverland is in crisis,” the Chief announced. Pointing to Pan, he said, “You, boy, know well of this.” 

    Pan, who stood leaning against the back wall with his arms folded, nodded. “Aye, Chief.” 

    “How you say we fix it?” 

    Every head turned and waited for the boy’s response. Even I, who had no say in the matter, got anxious at the pressure. It wasn’t more than a moment, though, before Pan’s chance to speak was taken by one of the Indian generals. 

    “What he know about it?” the gruff man exclaimed, slamming his fists on the table. “The say goes to Indians; not to no boy.” 

    “I agree,” another spoke up. Restless whispers arose and murmured agreeances. 

    “Neverland is dying” one of the older Lost Boys cut in. “The only way we can hope to reverse this course is to use Pixie Dust again.” 

    “Ha!” the first general scoffed. “Pixie Dust not be seen on the island in years. What you gon’ do, mine it out of dry hills?” 

    “That’s enough, Grey Hawk.” Tiger Lily’s interjection demanded attention from the whole room. “The age for mining Dust is over. We all know that. Arguing amongst ourselves won’t solve anything.” 

    “But there may be a solution yet,” Felix said, shifting all attention to himself. He glanced at Pan who gave the slightest confirming nod and continued with his statement. “Our only hope now… is the fairies.” 

    Everyone scorned and mumbled while I perked up at the mention. The fairies… 

    “Imbusillic creatures won’t help our cause,” one man said with Lost Boys and Indians alike nodding in agreeance. 

    “They haven’t helped us so far.” 

    “We don’t even know where they are.” 

    Tiger Lily stepped in once more, interrupting every negative comment. “Have you no faith?” Looking at Pan, she said, “It’s up to him.” 

    Pan, who up to this point had watched in silence, straightened up and faced the council. “The race of the Fairies still exists and has fallen into the cracks of Neverland. They will be no aid.” 

    The Indians weren’t so easily convinced, however. “Perhaps they can be persuaded.” “Yes, if we just explain…” It became clear that the general consensus was to move on with their charge, however unlikely. Finally, the Chief concluded, “It seems we have a verdict. What say you, Great Leader; have we the aid of the Lost Boys?” 

    A hush fell over the room. Everyone waited for the determining response; Lost Boys, to know their next orders, and Indians, to know the weight of their chances. Finally, Pan looked at the chief and uttered a single, finalizing syllable. 

    “No.” 

~~~ 

    The council was dismissed, and people exited the Chief’s teepee with feelings of frustration and compromise, but none of relief. As confused as the lot, I stopped Pan on his way out and ran to catch up with him. 

    “What was that?” I asked. 

    Glancing back at the teepee, he said, “I did what was best for my men - even if not everyone sees it as the best decision.”

    “But why,” I pressed, “why discourage the Indians from pursuing their course with the fairies?” 

    Pan rubbed the back of his neck, not in embarrassment, but in hesitation of how to put it. “The fairies and I have… a long history. And tell me, have you seen a fairy yet on Neverland?”

    I shook my head. 

    “So imagine how quick they’ll be to jump at helping us now - especially if I ask them.” 

    What history is he talking about? I wondered. “Do you just have a long history with everyone on this island?” 

    He laughed and continued walking back to the end of camp where the Lost Boys were meeting. 

    Pan, Felix, and a few of the older boys had been called to the Indian council that morning to give input. I was simply invited as a “guest of Pan” - though I assume Tiger Lily had had something to do with another woman (in the minority group) being included. The only conclusion I could arrive at for why they weighed Pan’s opinion so heavily was because he had such a large army of boys. His say did indeed control the tide of events on Neverland. 

    Arriving at the meeting sight, we all pressed in closer to where Pan could talk in a normal voice. 

    “It’s time to go, boys,” he stated. “We leave by sundown.” 

    Everyone nodded. A few seemed slightly confused, but I think they just assumed it was time to go. I prayed that’s all it was. 

    On our way out that afternoon, Pan was stopped by Tiger Lily, who extended a hand. “Till next time, stranger.” 

    Taking her outstretched hand, he smiled and said, “till next time.” 

    For a split second, she reached up and whispered something in his ear. I couldn’t make it out, though, and his unchanged expression was no help in deciphering it. With nearly no sign of acknowledgement, he straightened back up and looked at her once more before marching back on our path. And so we left the Never Land Plains, goodbyes and farewell “How’s” at our backs.

    We reached camp by sundown like Pan had said. Exhausted from our four-day feat with the Indians, everyone retired earlier than usual. I climbed back to my hut and breathed a sigh of relief at being somewhere familiar. 

    The Indians had given us the pleasure of bringing back our custom-made jackets/regalia from the autumn solstice festival. I spread mine out on the bed and slowly examined the intricate blues and whites their skilled hands had interwoven. 

    Suddenly, my hand traced something different along the lining. I flipped the dress inside-out, and, sure enough, a grey piece of cloth was hastily sewn to the inner hem. That’s odd, I thought. Grabbing my hunting knife off the table, I carefully tore the thread until the loose cloth was in my hands. On one side, a message scribbled in blood read: 

    “Pan cannot be trusted. Find the fairies in the Neverpeak cliffs before he does.” 

    - Signed by the burned stamp of a tiger lily flower.