hen confronted by the imminent possibility of one’s own death, the important thing is not to panic. That is what everyone says, and they say it because it is true. Remaining calm will not always save you, which is precisely what makes it such a difficult thing to do, but panicking never will, which is why it is absolutely, positively never the best choice.

Still, it is one thing to say that we must remain calm, and it is another thing altogether to do it, pausing in the midst of the most terrifying situation of one’s life to look around and see what opportunities or means might exist—any little thing we might have forgotten about—that could yet save us from an otherwise certain death. It is very difficult indeed, but nonetheless, we must try.

And if we stop to look bravely around Wendy now, we will see that there is, in fact, one such thing that we might have overlooked, had we not kept our wits about us. Only it is not such a little thing at all. It is, in fact, a rather substantial Newfoundland dog named Nana, who has been waiting for quite some time to rejoin the battle and who cannot help but feel that now, at long last, would be the perfect time to do so.

Ignoring Wendy’s earlier command—or perhaps deciding that it should no longer apply under these new circumstances, which amounts to the same thing—she thrust herself bodily between her mistress and her enemy, rearing up on her hind legs to snap viciously at his neck.

“Nana, no!” Wendy shouted, and she grabbed desperately at the dog, trying to pull Nana’s massive weight out of danger.

“Oh, for the love of heaven, I’m not going to hurt her,” the everlost growled, his tone making it perfectly clear that he found the very idea insulting.

“Behave,” he said to Nana, and he plucked her away from Wendy as though the Newfoundland monster were nothing more than one of those pampered bichons favored by Parisian ladies, tucking her neatly beneath his arm like an overstuffed handbag.

Nana was so surprised by this that she immediately fell limp, blinking and gazing about herself in confusion, trying to comprehend her new situation and searching for her dignity all the while, which she thought she must have dropped somewhere by accident within these last few moments.

“Strange words from the likes of you, I dare say,” Wendy remarked. She had never been one to shy from danger, and Nana’s bravery had inspired her. If they were going to die, which still seemed probable, Wendy could at least choose not to do it like some terrified child, cowering before the headmaster’s switch.

“Is it truly so strange not to harm an innocent animal?” he shot back, hoisting Nana a bit higher on the word ‘animal,’ as though proffering her as a reference. “Are they murdering pets in the streets now? Is that what your precious England has become? Not that it would surprise me.”

Nana remained suspended in midair, looking back and forth between the two, trying to follow the conversation.

“Not that,” Wendy clarified. “I meant that it’s strange for you to invoke the name of heaven, of course. You, one of the everlost, a creature without a soul.”

Perhaps, if I can keep him talking long enough, she found herself thinking, I might discover a way to get us both out of this. Under the circumstances, it certainly seemed worth a try.

“Ah ha!” he exclaimed, his face lighting up in sudden realization. “A creature without a soul! Ergo, lost forever to heaven! Ergo, ‘the everlost’! Well, that explains it, finally. I’ve always wondered.” He smiled at Nana and rubbed her head merrily as though she were sharing in his private revelation.

“But … how could you not have understood the meaning of your own name?” Wendy blinked in surprise.

“Don’t be absurd. It’s not my name. It’s your name. You made it up. Why would I call myself the everlost?” He regarded her the way a child might scrutinize a particularly baffling puzzle lock from the East, as though she were an exotic treasure of unfathomable mystery. “You might lose me, to be sure, but one can never lose oneself. The very idea is ridiculous. I’m always right where I am!”

What a truly odd creature, indeed, Wendy thought, but she was not about to say so, given her situation. “But it isn’t about having lost your person,” she said instead. “It’s about having lost your soul.”

Of course, this was not a very polite thing to say either, now that Wendy thought about it, and she cringed a little, but only on the inside. On the outside she squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye, hoping he wouldn’t take enough offense to kill either her or Nana, who still dangled calmly at his left side, supported under her chest by his forearm.

“I haven’t lost my soul any more than you’ve lost yours,” he said lightly. If he felt insulted, he didn’t show it. “I’ve only lost my shadow. Have you seen it, by chance?”

“You’ve lost your shadow?” she asked, bewildered. “But how could you possibly lose a shadow?”

“I don’t know,” he said, smirking now. “But I’ve looked for it every single night for months, and I can’t find it anywhere.” With this, he actually winked, and then Wendy found herself trying not to smile, which annoyed her immensely. As a result, she ended up scowling at him and looking exceedingly cross.

“Oh, come on,” he chided. “That was a good joke. You know, because you can’t see your shadow at night! Admit it. I’m quite clever.”

“I most certainly will not admit any such thing.”

“Well, why not? It’s the simple truth. All the boys think I’m clever. They tell me so all the time. In fact, they tell me I’m clever so often that most days I wander about the island even in the midst of my many responsibilities singing, ‘Oh, the cleverness of me!’” He crowed this rapturously, singing the words just to demonstrate.

“What island?” she asked innocently.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he shot back. “Never mind about the island. Tell me why you won’t say I’m clever.”

“Well, why should I?” she asked, her voice finally rising with emotion. “Why would you think I would be nice to you at all? You just killed my friends!”

“You just tried to kill me, and you don’t see me holding it against you,” he pointed out.

“But you didn’t actually die,” she retorted, tears finally threatening to overwhelm her. “My friends did.”

He regarded her for a long moment without saying anything, holding Nana under his left arm and absently scratching her behind the ears with his right, which Nana had decided to enjoy as long as he wasn’t threatening anyone.

“If I fix it, will you admit to my cleverness then?” he asked.

“If you … what?”

“Come on,” he said, putting Nana back down on the ground and turning toward the carnage that the everlost had left behind. “I’ll show you. But then you really must admit that I’m clever. It’s the least you could do.”