And there was Peter Pan, a sword in his hand, a smile on his lips, youth and joy mirrored in his face. Forest green from head to foot with boots, leggings and tunic belted and scalloped like the leaves of the Nevertree itself, he looked the very incarnation of the Pan of old. Pirates backed away from him hurriedly, tripping over one another's peg legs and cutlasses in their efforts to get clear. Hook's smile broadened in blissful contentment. Smee cowered further in Hook's shadow. Jack stared.
Peter gathered himself, flipped high into the air, and came down directly in front of the quarterdeck stairs leading up to Hook.
For an instant everyone held a collective breath.
Then the captain stepped forward. "Peter Pan," he greeted, and his voice became a snake's hiss of expectation. 'Tis true, time does fly. And so do you, I see. Good form. Tell me-how ever did you manage to fit into those smashing tights?"
His pirates gave a laugh and a rousing cheer at their captain's wit. As Peter placed one foot upon the stairs that led to his adversary, Hook stamped on the deck above and the stairs flipped over, hiding away the red carpet. Hook's smile broadened.
Peter flushed, but continued his climb until he stood on the quarterdeck, facing the captain. "Hand over my children, James Hook, and you and your men may go free."
Hook's laugh was a bark of derision. "Really? How kind of you!" He feigned a thoughtful look. "Tell you what. Why not ask the little dears what they want? Start with this one, why don't you? Jack? Someone to see you, son."
An unctuous mix of deference and consideration showed in his sharp face as he ushered Jack forward to stand in front of him. He did not miss the fact that some of the cockiness left Pan's eyes as he saw what had been done to his son. He took note of the shock that replaced it.
"Jack-are you all right?" Peter asked quickly. "Did he hurt you? Where's Maggie? I promised I would be here for you, and I am. You'll never lose me again. Jack, I love you.''
Jack did not respond. There was no recognition in his eyes. He might as well have been Hook's son for all that he seemed to remember being anyone else. He eyed Peter for an instant longer, then stepped back defiantly.
" 'Promise,' did you say?" Hook sneered. "Hah! A cheap word for you, Peter. And did I hear you use the '1 word'? By Barbecue's bones, that's real cheek!"
Peter ignored him. He reached out to Jack. "Jack, take my hand. We're going home."
Jack shook his head stubbornly. "I am home."
Hook jeered. His narrowed gaze fixed on Peter. "You see, Peter, he is my son now. He loves me. And, unlike you, I am prepared to fight dearly for him."
He pushed Jack behind him and lifted his claw menacingly. "I've waited a long time to shake your hand with this!" he hissed. "Prepare to meet your doom!"
Peter crouched guardedly, his sword lifting. Then Hook signalled to the men of his pirate crew and an eager rumble of expectation arose. Peter hesitated only a moment, then flipped back down the quarterdeck stairs and whirled to meet the attack.
Instantly the pirates were on him, cutlasses and daggers drawn, blades flashing wickedly. Peter stood his ground, fending off slash and hack, thrust and cut, as agile and quick as a cat. Noodler and Bill Jukes were in the lead, but Peter turned them aside as if they were cut out of cardboard, and they tumbled back into their fellows.
From the quarterdeck, Hook watched, taking time to unsheathe his sword and practice a quick series of thrusts and parries. Jack, forgotten momentarily, watched the battle with an uncertain frown.
There was something familiar about Peter Pan.
"Don't I know him, Captain?" he asked cautiously.
"You've never seen him before in your life," Hook sneered, concentrating on his form.
The pirate attack was tightening about Peter, the sea of weapons coming closer and closer. Jukes and Noodler had regained their feet and were encouraging their fellows. Peter waited until they were almost on top of him, then launched himself skyward, flying up to the yardarm, where he shouted down to Jack.
"Jack! Jack, listen to me! You won't believe this, but I found my happy thought! It took three days, Jack, but when I finally did it, up I went! You know what my happy thought was, Jack? It was you!"
Hook was livid. Whirling away, he rushed to the deck railing and slashed the rope that bound the cargo net- which hung poised directly over Peter Pan.
Instinctively Jack cried out in warning, not stopping to think what he was saying. "Dad! Look out!"
Too late. The heavy cargo net collapsed on Peter, dragging him off the yardarm and down to the deck. Pirates descended on him with a yell, weapons flashing. Peter struggled to his feet, straightened with the Pan sword held high, and gave forth a battle crow.
Jack's jaw dropped. "That is my Dad!" he whispered to himself in disbelief. "It really is!"
Suddenly there were answering crows from all about and the Lost Boys appeared. They came from everywhere at once, yelling and sounding their battle cries. War paint streaked their faces, and they wore armor to shield their bodies-helmets formed of hollo wed-out gourds, vests and knee and arm pads of bamboo sticks laced together with leather thongs, shoulder pads of shells and wood, and brightly colored feathers and ribbons hanging everywhere. Rufio led the first wave of Lost Boys, catapulting from a springboard onto the ship's rigging. The Lost Boys' skiff, the Dark Avenger, seemed to appear out of nowhere to swing in next to the Jolly Roger. A boarding party clambered up the side. Ace and a handful more launched themselves from cranes and ship spars that jutted from the wharf. Others swung down on ropes and crawled over the railing from the waters below.
Hook stared in disbelief. It seemed to be raining Lost Boys. He snatched Smee by the shirt front. "Call out the militia! We'll need every last man!"
Smee charged up the stairs to the aft deck and began ringing a brass bell. "Oh, dear, oh, dear! What about Smee?" he muttered, his enthusiasm for Hook's war noticeably diminished.
The Lost Boys and pirates engaged in battle, Rufio and his band swinging down out of the rigging with war clubs in hand to clash with sharp-edged steel. Peter had freed himself from the cargo net and joined them. The main deck turned instantly into a battleground.
Hook charged to the quarterdeck railing, his eyes bright. "By Billy Bones's blood, I love a good war! The perfect start to a perfect day!" He wheeled back to Jack. "It'll be your first taste of blood, eh, son?"
Jack's small face went pale. First taste of blood? He was beginning to think that being a pirate wasn't so wonderful after all.
A small band of Lost Boys rushed up the stairs of the quarterdeck, war clubs waving. But Hook met them at the top and tumbled them down again like dominoes.
A new cry rose as Thud Butt appeared on the wharf front with the remainder of the Lost Boys. He charged up the gangplank, bowling over pirates as he went, knocking several into the drink.
Amidships, Peter and Rufio had rallied a skirmish line of Lost Boys to face a pirate charge forming below the quarterdeck. Thud Butt and Ace hurried to join them. Crossbows, longbows, blowguns, and slingshots released, sending a hail of hard, knobby, glue-tipped missiles into the pirates. Pistols and cutlasses went flying.
The pirate charge dissolved in a cacophony of yowls and screeches.
"Re-form your ranks, you bilge rats!" shrilled Hook in fury. "Remember the fires that forged you!"
The pirates, of course, had no idea what he was talking about, but hastened to obey anyway. It was doubtful that they knew what they were getting into, having learned nothing from their previous skirmishes with the Lost Boys. But they were nothing if not persistent, and so on they came, giving forth bloodcurdling cries amid clashes of steel.