ith the next wormhole not due to open until the morning and no immediate threats at our door, we temporarily let our guard down. Despite the serious nature of the topic that began our dinner discussion, our group began to enjoy the evening.

Everyone in the Hideaway was so nice and full of life and innocence that my friends and I couldn’t help but forget our troubles.The food was great. The laughter was frequent. And the conversation flowed as freely as the chocolate milk.

The whole camp wanted to hear all about us. They wanted to know where we’d come from, how’d we gotten here, where we were going next. We told them about our search for Paige Tomkins in the Wonderlands, and the antagonists trying to stop us. Then we entertained them with tales of our previous perilous adventures.

I felt kind of bad that Mitchell wasn’t around to take notes for his manuscript. But apparently he’d really hit it off with the camp’s Honorary Mother and she’d agreed to give him a lengthy interview. They were taking their dinner in her private bunker and probably wouldn’t be coming out any time soon.

Jason and Blue told the Lost Boys and Girls about the Therewolves we’d encountered in the Forbidden Forest last fall. SJ detailed our trip to the Earth island of Bermuda where we found the Little Mermaid’s daughter. Then Daniel and I wowed them with a description of our time fighting the Pied Piper, the villainous Goldilocks, and the giant lobster-esque creature known as the Magistrake.

During our tag-team account of the adventures the two of us had shared in Alderon, I suddenly realized what was happening. Just like on Hook’s ship when we’d inadvertantly bumped fists, he and I were falling into old habits. We finished each other’s sentences, poked fun, and were genuinely smiling at one another.

When I became aware of this, I felt a tingle of electricity in my spine like a warning. I drew back after that, reining in how much I allowed myself to connect with him. I wasn’t sure if Daniel had noticed how chummy we were being with each other, but he definitely noticed when I pulled away.

We got to know various Lost Boys and Girls over dinner, and even some of the fairies. Although we couldn’t speak their light-blinking language, they were fairly good mimers and took to answering yes or no with one or two wing flashes.

The person who proved hardest to get to know was Peter himself. He was happy to talk about anything to do with Neverland and readily shared stories about the escapades he’d had on the island over the years. But unlike the other kids, who easily talked about where they came from and what had brought them here, whenever we asked Peter a question that pertained to anything before his arrival in Neverland, he dodged the subject with a joke, a sassy comment, or simply by flying away.

“Don’t take it too hard,” young Thaddeous said as he reached in front of me to grab a bowl of macaroni salad. “He’s always like that. None of us know who he was before he came here or why he left his home. The only thing we do know is that he’s from Camelot.”

“Camelot?” SJ asked, leaning in. Peter was on the other side of the table and out of earshot, but she seemed wary talking about him behind his back. “How do you know that?”

“We learned it the old-fashioned way: eavesdropping,” Thaddeus replied. “A while back, we heard him and AP talking about it. AP’s from Camelot too.”

“Why didn’t Peter just say so?” I asked.

“We’re not supposed to tell outsiders any details about Peter or AP,” Thaddeus responded. “It’s nothing personal. We just need to protect them so they can keep protecting us. Once you’ve proven trustworthy and get your Team Pan membership card, maybe they’ll be more open with you.”

“A membership card?” Daniel said with a half laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Thaddeus frowned. He put down his spoon and opened his worn leather vest. Sewn on the inside pocket was a small patch with a fancy bronze P insignia and the words Members Only. “Does this look like I’m kidding?”

He closed his jacket and tilted his chin at me, his expression super serious. “I’m only telling you this proprietary information because I like you. You’re cute and aggressive. That’s my kind of gal.”

“Watch out, Chance Darling,” Blue teased.

My friends burst out laughing as my cheeks turned red. Before I could reply to Thaddeus, Peter stood up and started banging a knife on his cup at the other end of the table.

“Attention, attention!” he called, raising his cup. “A toast to our new friends. They fought bravely, burnt down the Jolly Roger, and gave Hook a thorough beat-down.”

Everyone cheered, hooted, and stomped their feet.

“I’d also like to particularly thank Crisa for saving my life,” he continued. “Crisanta Knight, without you I would’ve been a goner. And so—as is custom for true heroes around these parts—the troop will now give you a nickname so that your legend may live on in the Neverwood forever. Any suggestions, gang?”

“Destroyer of Worlds!” shouted one girl.

“Pirate Pulverizer!” shouted another.

“Conqueror of the Crocodile!” yelled a boy with bright red hair.

“Hey, my nickname’s the Conqueror,” protested Thaddeus.

“Yeah, but you’re the Conqueror of PogPie Valley,” argued the ginger.

“Still, I’m the only Conqueror ’round here,” Thaddeus argued.

“Says who?”

“Says me!”

“Guys,” Peter interrupted. “Let’s settle this later in the mud-pit. For now, we need teamwork. Come on, everybody. Give me something original.”

“The Page Turner,” Blue said suddenly.

Everyone turned toward her. She shrugged. “Girl’s always moving the story forward.”

“Blue,” I murmured between gritted teeth.

I was so embarrased that I wanted the earth to swallow me whole.

“I like it!” Peter announced. He raised his cup anew. “Here’s to Crisanta Knight, the Page Turner!”

The others followed his lead. “Crisanta Knight, the Page Turner!”

They clinked their cups, stomped their feet, and chugged down their beverages while I bit my lip and met SJ’s jealous glare across the table.

After the feast, everyone gathered around a large bonfire. Peter and the Lost Boys and Girls reenacted the fight on Hook’s ship for the rest of the camp. There were improvised flying swordfights and a few boys even put on a crocodile costume and chased the kid playing Hook around the makeshift theater circle.

The rest of us laughed at the spectacle while snacking on treats and candies being passed around the campfire. These kids really knew how to let loose.

As the warmth fused into my skin, I allowed myself to feel happy. After everything that had happened with Midveil and my brother, I was surprised and glad that I still could.

“You know,” Jason mused beside me as he took a large cookie from the plate being passed around. “I get that we’ve been almost killed a half dozen times today, and that we have a lot of enemies waiting for us once we leave here, but I gotta say, I’m having a good time.”

“That’s under-selling it,” Blue exclaimed as she took a cookie of her own. “This is an excellent quest. I just checked two things off my bucket list—burning down a boat and punching Captain Hook in the face.”

“You have some really specific things on your bucket list,” I commented as Peter and a few girls flew overhead, still playing pirate.

Blue shrugged with a smile. “Hey, a girl’s gotta dream big, right?”

“Dude, I saved Peter Pan,” I responded in a more hushed tone as I looked around to make sure SJ wasn’t anywhere nearby. “That wasn’t on my bucket list, and I didn’t like all the attention Peter surprised me with at dinner, but it’s still ferociously cool.”

“Don’t I know it,” Blue said. “I’m totally jealous.”

“Me too,” Jason agreed. “This was my favorite book when I was younger. I still can’t believe we’re actually—”

“Jason, man, get over here!” Peter called as he flew by. “Show ’em how you man-handled that dude with the eye patch.”

“Jason! Jason! Jason!” the other kids chanted as they clapped their hands together.

“All right, all right.” He grabbed his axe from its sheath and clambered to his feet.

The whole camp cheered as he stepped inside the circle.

“Have at thee, dastardly pirate!” he called to a Lost Boy with a sword and a fake eye patch. The boy grinned and charged. Much to the delight of the other children, the two of them danced around one another in exaggerated battle.

“They love him,” I said to Blue as we watched their game of pretend.

“Who wouldn’t? He’s a great guy.”

“And you totally love him,” I teased.

Blue’s eyes nearly popped out of her skull and she smacked me hard on the arm. Still, I cracked a grin.

“I don’t love him,” she said in an irritated whisper. “I just have above-average female feelings for him. So shut up.”

I tried to mask my smile. “I know,” I said with a shrug. “I was just getting you back for earlier.”

“Earlier?”

“That comment you made when Thaddeus was hitting on me. Oh, and the Page Turner thing. I was not a fan of that either.”

“Fair enough,” Blue said. “But that Chance Darling remark was hilarious, and you know it. And as for the Page Turner thing, you need to stop being so shy of the limelight. You’re great, Crisa. And you’ve done a lot of really impressive stuff. You should be proud of it and proud of yourself.”

“Maybe . . .” I mused with a light smile.

I gazed back at the bonfire contentedly. Then my good mood vanished when some kids added a large bunch of kindling and the flames suddenly leapt taller. They flashed in my pupils, igniting a memory that tore away my peace.

In the light of the bonfire flames I saw a thousand bad things at once and I felt every emotion that went with them. The terrible events of the day flashed before me. Mauvrey’s malicious grin right before she slammed the lid of the coffin, that Shadow screeching and clinging to Alex, the bodies lying in the corridor of my castle . . .

I started to hyperventilate.

“Hey, are you okay?” Blue’s expression was concerned as she reached for me.

I drew back. “I’m fine,” I said.

But I wasn’t. The fire was too hot. The noises were too loud. I stood brusquely. “I’m going to get some air.”

I darted out of range before Blue could offer to come with me. I hastened my way across the camp to the perimeter of trees and then through them. I zigzagged farther and farther from the camp until the light and laughter of the Hideaway were a distant haze. Then I sank to the ground. Tears welled up inside of me, but I held them back, trying to hold myself together. I took deep, deep breaths and clutched my knees to my chest.

My heart rate calmed after a minute and I felt like I could breathe again. My head leaned against a cold tree trunk. I rested there with my eyes closed and hoped the chilly air would freeze the fire churning inside me.

“Crisa?”

I opened my eyes. Daniel was standing in front of me. Fireflies floated near his silhouette, making him look strangely surreal. What was more surreal, though, was hearing my name from his lips. He’d only ever called me Crisa once, and that was when I was about to fall into a giant lava pit. The fact that he’d used it now put me on edge.

Without being invited, Daniel sat on a thick tree root across from me. He focused on the dirt for a while. After an awkwardly long lull, he looked at me carefully. “How are doing? You’ve been acting like you’re fine. But after everything, I don’t see how you could be.”

Dude, did he just ask me a personal question? Isn’t that against our rules?

“I’m dealing with it,” I said.

“You mean you’re burying it?” he countered.

“Same difference,” I replied. “Not that it’s anything you need to concern yourself with.”

I could tell by his expression that my coldness may have been a bit much, but I didn’t apologize. He had it coming.

Eventually I got tired of the silence. This was the first time we’d been alone together in a while and it made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t ready to go back to the Hideaway yet, and if he wasn’t going to leave, I had to at least try and diffuse the weirdness with some casual chatter.

“I was surprised that Kai’s house was the only stop you wanted to make in Century City,” I noted, changing the subject.

“Why’s that?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I mused. “I guess I figured you might’ve wanted to visit your home, your family.”

“Not much of a home to go back to,” he replied. “I’ve been on my own since I was nine.”

I tilted my head. “What do you mean you’ve been on your own?”

“My parents . . .” he said slowly, like even remembering the words caused him pain. “They died in a fire when I was a kid. My sister too. She was only five.”

I sat completely still and stared at Daniel. Shadows crossed his strong features. The vague, distant light of the Hideaway did nothing to lessen the darkness in his eyes, or the piece of truth he’d just shared.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked slowly. “I thought we agreed we weren’t going to talk about personal stuff with each other anymore.”

“I know,” Daniel said, looking away. “I’m sorry.”

I stared at him.

“Not sorry that I told you about my family,” he clarified. “Sorry that I pushed you away in the first place.” He shook his head and I didn’t move. My breath caught in my throat.

“Crisa . . .” he said. “I hated letting you in last semester. Since I lost my family, I’ve gotten used to keeping people at a distance. Other than Kai, there is no one I’m really close to. But when we were forced to trust each other on our Author quest, something happened. I realized I didn’t mind having someone to talk to, having you to talk to. And that freaked me out. I’ve done things on my own for most of my life—I didn’t want to get soft relying on someone else. So I pushed you away. I made the choice to sever our connection before I got too used to it. But now . . . I know that was a mistake.”

At last Daniel lifted his head. He held my gaze with his dark brown eyes and I tried my best not to let them knock me off balance.

“Jason’s a good friend, and I’ve told him a bit about Kai and my life before school. But talking to him isn’t the same as talking with you. You and I haven’t known each other much longer, but we opened up to each other during all that time we spent together. And when you went back to Midveil, I finally came to terms with the truth.”

“Which is?” I asked hesitantly.

“I miss being friends with you. Really being friends with you. Not this shallow relationship we’ve had since I suggested we treat each other differently. I’m sorry I did that. I know the timing is terrible and I know you’re probably mad, but I think we should go back to how it was before. That’s what I want. But I don’t know if it’s what you want.”

My heart softened, for there was a part of me that desperately wanted exactly that. I felt so alone right now. I wanted to be able to talk to Daniel and have his words fill my heart with resolve and reassurance like they once had.

But when I considered letting him back in, a tremor of anger and fear reverberated through me. I couldn’t do it. Not again.

I’d trusted Daniel that way before and he’d thrown it back in my face and stomped on my faith like it was nothing. His apology didn’t change that, nor did it erase how much I resented him for leaving me on my own.

And then there was Alex.

After Daniel had turned me away, I’d opened up to my brother and shared my deepest feelings with him. Then he’d betrayed me in the same way. Like Daniel, he’d made me think that I had someone I could count on. And he’d ended up stabbing me in the back and creating a chasm between us that could never be bridged. He’d burned me and broken me and now I had an emptiness inside that was impossible to fill.

Every person I’d ever allowed myself to be truly vulnerable with had hurt me and pushed me away. I just couldn’t bear the thought of going through that one more time. My heart had fractured into a hundred pieces from the betrayal of my brother and the destruction of my home. I would not risk another crack.

In retrospect, it was stupid to wear your heart on your sleeve where it could break. I was tucking it back in where no one would ever see it again.

“It’s not what I want, Daniel,” I said, standing resolutely and staring at him with a hard expression. “I think we’re better like this. I’m sorry if you don’t feel that way, but I’ve made up my mind. You put that distance between us when you chose to push me away, and I’m too tired to cross it again.”