ow did you say it worked?”

Sir William paced back and forth in Hook’s office while Hook remained seated at his desk, unusually subdued.

“It didn’t work. I’m telling you, it was a trick.” Hook leaned back in his chair, waving his steel appendage in dismissal. “The investigator’s report will say the same thing, and we’re all going to look foolish for cloistering the man away over nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing,” Sir William protested. “Even if it’s just a compass, it’s the most unusual one I’ve ever seen. We can’t admit where it came from, and I don’t want the entire Royal Society asking questions. Better to have him look into it here.”

“Hmph,” Hook grunted. “I suppose you’re right. Besides, we can keep a better eye on the Darling girl here too. I can’t even imagine unleashing her on Somerset House.”

Sir William snorted. “‘The darling girl,’” he repeated. “If you’re not careful, I might start thinking that engagement of yours is more than just a ruse.” 

“It’s her name,” Hook growled, but Sir William was still grinning when a knock sounded at the door. He stopped pacing and opened it for a tall, lean young man, who bowed at once.

“Thomas Pettigrew, at your service,” he announced. He was dressed in a poor man’s wools rather than a rich man’s silks, and his cutaway coat hung somewhat loosely. A hand-me-down from a brother, or perhaps even from his father, Hook supposed. The cuffs of his white linen shirt were so plain that Hook wouldn’t have been caught dead in them. But by God, his hair. Hook almost grimaced. His medium-brown hair flew every which way, as though he had only just now rolled out of bed at three o’clock in the afternoon.

“Where’s our Royal Society fellow?” Sir William demanded. “You were supposed to bring him with you.”

Sir William assumed from looking at him that Thomas Pettigrew was an errand boy. In fact, at only eighteen years of age, he was one of the youngest members ever to be admitted to the Royal Society. He was already well on his way to a brilliant career in mathematics and the natural sciences, and you surely would have read of him in one of your history books were it not for the events which were about to transpire over these next few minutes.

“Right here,” Thomas replied. “He is I. Or I am he. As you prefer.”

Suddenly he fell silent, and his eyes opened wide. They darted to the left, and to the right, and to the left again, his chin following slightly with each change in direction. Then he began chattering in a distracted sort of way that was clearly intended only for himself.

“Ha!” he exclaimed. “It’s commutative, isn’t it! He is I, or I am he! It doesn’t matter which! Grammatically or mathematically! I must write that down!” He patted at the pockets of his waistcoat, eventually producing a pencil and a scrap of paper and marching them straight to Hook’s desk, leaning over the wooden surface and scribbling furiously.

“But you’re not Banks,” Sir William protested. “I was told the president of the Society would see to it himself.”

“Not Banks! Quite correct!” he agreed, writing even as he spoke. “No, no. Sir Joseph intended to assist you. He did. At least, that is, until it was explained to him that he would not be permitted to leave the premises once he entered. So he left before he entered, and you got me instead.”

Thomas Pettigrew finished his note with a flourish and stood up straight, stuffing the paper and pencil into his pocket and grinning from ear to ear. He looked back and forth between Sir William and Hook, both of whom stared back at him in expectation, but he said nothing more.

“Well?” Sir William finally prompted.

“Well what?” Thomas asked.

“What is your report regarding the compass, man? Out with it!”

“Oh! Why, it’s extraordinary! Quite extraordinary! Even as a compass! I’ve never seen a liquid variety so small and portable! A man can carry it in his hand! Or a woman, of course. Especially a woman, as it turns out. Very unexpected!”

“What is unexpected?” Hook demanded.

“Well, the mechanism by which it changes direction for Miss Darling, for one thing. Clearly it’s responding to some invisible force, but it isn’t magnetic. That much is certain. As a compass, it’s magnetic, but as … well, as whatever else it is … it’s responding to something else entirely.”

“So what is it responding to?” Sir William asked.

“I have no idea!” Thomas declared. “Isn’t that wonderful? It’s a complete mystery! A whole new area of science on the brink of discovery! When the Royal Society reads my paper—”

“No!” both men exclaimed, and Thomas took half a step back, blinking in surprise.

“You can’t write a paper about this,” Sir William told him. “Not about any of it. Not about a handheld liquid compass, not about any unknown force, nothing.”

“But I must!” Thomas protested. “In the name of science! It will be the greatest discovery since the lightning conductor!”

“Now look—” Hook started, but Sir William cleared his throat loudly enough to catch his attention.

“We understand your position, Thomas,” Sir William said with a smile. “Give us some time to discuss it. Wait for us in the laboratory, won’t you?”

“Of course!” Thomas said, bouncing up and down a little on the balls of his feet. “Would you be willing to send Miss Darling back, too? I’d like to investigate that glow a bit further.”

Sir William nodded and waved his hand through the air in an annoyed sort of way, dismissing Thomas Pettigrew from the room.

Once the young man had left, Sir William turned to Hook, looking for all the world as though he’d just eaten a bad fish.

“You’re going to have to take them both with you,” he said.

“Take both of whom with me where?” Hook stared at Sir William with tight lips and a dark glare.

“You know precisely whom, and you know where as well. If he says there’s something to it, then there’s something to it.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m deadly serious. We have to be sure. You have to take the girl to make the thing work, and you have to take that Pettigrew fellow to keep him from talking.”

“A scientist. And a woman. On a fighting ship. It could very well be a trap, you know.”

“I know the risks.” Sir William’s tone was sharp, intended to remind Hook of both his rank and his experience. “That’s why I’m sending two extra ships with you, but no more. If this whole thing is just an elaborate trap, at least you’ll have enough firepower to stand a chance. If it’s some kind of decoy, designed to lure you away from our shores, the bulk of our forces will still be here to defend England.

“But if it is neither of those things,” Sir William continued, “if that compass really is a magical device that will lead you to the everlost, then your orders are to scout and survey. Chart the island’s position. Get Pettigrew to map what you can of their territory without being discovered, and then you must return that map to England. At any cost.”

Hook sat in his office, finally alone, staring at the deep scars on his desk and slowly working his jaw from side to side. Left, front, right, front, left, front, right.

Magic. The very word made his skin crawl. What had become of the Royal Society that any of its fellows, no matter how untested, would throw up his hands so easily? An unknown force, indeed. Even Hook’s magnificent hair would have stiffened in protest, had it been able.

And that woman. On his ship! 

At least he had discovered her in Dover and forced her to return to London. That hadn’t been part of her plan. He allowed himself a small smile, but it was short-lived. What was her plan? He couldn’t help but feel that somehow this was part of it all along. To get him away from England. To get aboard his ship.

His jaw stopped moving and fell open. Had Sir William been right from the beginning? Was this entire convoluted enterprise just an elaborate ploy to get him alone at sea and beguile him into marriage?

His jaw snapped shut. No. His instincts couldn’t be that wrong. She was up to something far more devious than that. But why else would she want to get him alone?

Or to get him away from England, as Sir William had suggested. With her lieutenant and his sergeant left behind.

Hook sat up straighter.

Did she expect him to return them to Dover? That would certainly make sense. A cold pit of dread formed low in his belly. If they were in Dover, and they failed to sound the alarm, the everlost could reach London in force before anyone even suspected. Were they really everlost collaborators? It didn’t seem likely, but he couldn’t take that chance.

But then he thought about leaving them at his estate. What if that was what she wanted …?

By God, this was getting him nowhere.

He had to relocate them somewhere entirely different. Somewhere she would never expect. But where?

What he really wanted to do was lock them all in irons. If only they had broken the law. Any law.

A cold, hard smile finally danced across his lips.

There was one place, and only one, where his word was absolute law. And it was exactly where he had just been ordered to take Wendy Darling.

As Hook imagined the possibilities, a veritable flood tide of glee welled up within him. He couldn’t punish them for no reason, not even aboard his own ship. He would lose the trust and faith of his men. But a man without training would make a mistake soon enough. He would fail at his assigned task. Or he would fall asleep at his post. And then …

Yes, perhaps Wendy Darling should be reunited with her friends after all.