“I need to get some air.” Jocelyn said, stumbling backward. “The campfire smoke is making me feel ill.”

“I’ll join you,” Roger said, his voice sounding as shocked as Jocelyn felt.

“I think I’d rather be alone.” She leaned in close and added in a lower voice, “Don’t say anything. Please.”

Roger nodded and Jocelyn fled from the fire, barely registering where she was going. She reached the edge of the circle of tipis and stopped, looking out into the night. There she stood, fingering her locket, lost in thought. The distant wolf bayed again, but this time it sounded less wild and free. It simply sounded lonely.

How could her mother possibly be here? And frolicking about with that obnoxious Peter Pan? What could Evie—Evelina?—possibly see in that boy that was worth mothering? Jocelyn ground her teeth. It wasn’t fair!

The girl was so wrapped up in the shock, the injustice, the very ridiculousness of what was happening that she didn’t hear footsteps approaching. Even so, her reflexes were sharp; when someone grabbed her arm, Jocelyn had her sword out before she even turned around.

The nursemaid she had caught a glimpse of earlier held her loosely by the arm. Up close it was apparent that the man had not been born into Tiger Lily’s tribe. Even in the moonlight Jocelyn could see that his skin was too pale, his build too stout. Nautical tattoos peeked out from his sleeves, and his eyes were squeezed into a perpetual squint, the result of a life spent under the sun, wind, and waves.

This was no nursemaid. This was a pirate.

Isn’t that just the way life is? It throws something in your path, something momentous, something that must be pondered, mulled over, and truly considered in order for you to make sense of it, but before you have a chance to do so…Snap! A wild-eyed pirate has caught hold of your arm.

Jocelyn jerked hers away from the man and leveled her sword at him. “If Krueger sent you, his sense of timing is as terrible as his breath. I’m in no mood to be tangled with.”

The pirate scowled. “So you’ve gotten yourself mixed up with Captain Krueger, have you? I might have guessed it, the way you’ve been waving that map around.”

Jocelyn was no novice when it came to looking innocent. She had played far too many pranks on tutors and governesses for that. “What map?” she asked with wide eyes.

Likewise, the man was no novice in the ways of children. He narrowed his eyes. “Isn’t that just like a child? Presented with irrefutable facts and they want to play pretend! The map in your pocket, missy. The map to Hook’s gold.”

Jocelyn pressed the point of her sword into his stomach. Her voice was low and threatening. “You can’t have it.”

He spat on the ground, unperturbed. “I don’t want it. That map has already caused me more trouble than it’s worth. The gold is cursed, you know. Even in death, Hook won’t give it up.”

“I don’t believe in curses.”

The man laughed, but there was no joy in it. “You will grow to believe.”

She gripped the sword more tightly, her knuckles growing white. “If you don’t want the map, why did you mention it in the first place?”

“I know where it leads.”

His words hit Jocelyn like a jolt of electricity. If this was true, he might know everything. She wouldn’t have to find the Jolly Roger in order to break the code. He could simply tell her what she needed! The treasure was practically hers! Still, she tried to keep the man from knowing how much she wanted to believe him. She resheathed her sword and made a show of brushing off the front of her jacket. “I presume,” she said, with an air of near disinterest, “you are willing to tell me this?”

He laughed again, a hard, brittle sound. The girl was rather certain he could see through her ruse. “I might be persuaded,” he said, “in exchange for something you can provide.”

Jocelyn shrugged, unwilling to give up her charade. “I am very close to decoding the map, so you see, I don’t really need your information, though it may be a small amount of use to me. Name your terms and I shall think it over.”

He wiped his hands on his breeches and attempted a casual smile. Jocelyn got the impression that she was not the only one feigning less interest than was felt.

“I want to leave this place,” he said, “but my service isn’t exactly voluntary. Day and night, without cease I must care for their sticky-fingered children: give them baths, and meals, and grammar lessons until I’m half-mad.”

Jocelyn stared at the man, puzzled. “Who are you?”

“Pardon me, forgetting my manners—easy to do when each day is spent in the company of children—such ill-mannered beasts.” He held out a hand. “The name is Starkey, Gentleman Starkey. A long time ago I was an English schoolmaster, but I left that life for one less dangerous: piracy under the black flag of Captain James Hook.”

Jocelyn ignored his hand. “You sailed with my father?”

He put his hands in his pockets and nodded. “I did. Right up until the end. Smee and I were the only ones to survive that last battle between our crew and Pan’s lost boys. I thought he was dead and gone like all the rest, until I saw him here tonight, sitting by the fire, fat and happy as could be.” Starkey curled his lip. “Doesn’t look like our downfall hurt him any.”

Jocelyn felt oddly protective of her bo’sun. If he was to be insulted, she should be the one to do it, just as he liked. “You leave Mr. Smee alone! He has suffered in ways you’ll never know.”

Starkey raised his voice. “Yet he’s faring quite well, while here I sit, a nursemaid!” A dog barked from inside the camp, prompting Starkey to lower his voice again. “We should have never captured those children and brought them aboard the Jolly Roger. The lost boys were bad enough, but the girl, that Wendy…Any sailor worth his salt knows that girls are bad luck at sea.”

Jocelyn lowered her eyebrows. “I would tend to disagree.”

He sighed. “Of course you would. Children are such disagreeable creatures.”

“If you hate us so much, why are you even talking to me?”

“I’ve already told you. I need your help to escape. I’m not a nursemaid. I’m a pirate. It’s in my blood, and I need to get back to the sea.”

The girl put her hands on her hips. “Why should I help you?”

“I’ve told you that, too. Do try to pay attention when I’m speaking.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and spoke slowly. “I know where that map leads. Help me and I’ll tell you.”

Jocelyn considered him for a moment. “Why should I trust you?”

“Because I’m a pirate, just like you. We’re bound together under the Code of Brotherhood.”

Jocelyn wasn’t sure how she felt about this Code of Brotherhood. So far, it seemed to be merely a device used to try to talk her into doing things. Even so, she did want to know where the map led. “I suppose I have nothing to lose. I’ll do what I can.”

Jocelyn returned to the fire, choosing a seat alone, in the back. She hardly noticed a trio of young women somehow singing together in four-part harmony. Roger turned and gave her a questioning look, but she waved him off, unready to talk. Her mind felt a jumbled mess, crowded with thoughts of treasure, escape plots, and the presence of Evie—her mother—in the Neverland.

When the music died down, Tiger Lily stood. “My family, my friends, today has shown us a victory. We should have taken it regardless, for Pan is no match for us in our times of war, but our losses might have been heavy. Captain Jocelyn and her crew supported us in our need, and”—she looked shrewdly at Evie—“have taken Pan’s mother from him just as he took my Snow from me.” The pup gave a sharp bark in acknowledgment of her name, and Tiger Lily reached down and gave her a pat.

“Captain Jocelyn and her prisoner,” she went on, “have also given us the gift of song. I would like to offer a gift in return.” She turned to address Jocelyn directly. “You may ask a boon of me. Anything you like.”

That caught Jocelyn’s attention. “I can choose anything? And you will just give it to me?”

Tiger Lily gave a single, regal nod of her head. “I will, with the exception of Snow.” She picked up the pup and nuzzled her. “I would hate to lose her again.”

Jocelyn pretended to think it over. Starkey stood at the edge of the firelight, a toddler attached to his ankle. The pirate’s look was pained and pleading. “I choose…that man over there. Your nursemaid.”

Tiger Lily raised her eyebrows. “But surely you are too old for a nursemaid?”

Color flooded Jocelyn’s cheeks. “Of course I am! But he sailed with my father. I may have need of him.”

The princess’s face was grave. “I did not expect this. My young mothers will not be pleased to see him go. However, I did say you could choose anything.” Her eyes twinkled, and her lips twitched as if holding back a smile. “You may take him.”

Starkey shook off the children attached to him—none too gently, I might add, though likely more so than the little blighters deserved. A few mothers, their faces more tired than they had appeared moments before, gathered their crying children.

The crew was curious about the new addition to their ranks, particularly when Mr. Smee greeted him like a long-lost relative: with a slap on the back and an appeal for a loan.

In the meantime, the children, freed from the constraints of their nursemaid, began to run amok: wiping dirty mouths and hands on buffalo robes, pulling dog tails, crossing eyes and making faces at their mothers. Things were swiftly slipping into chaos. The exasperated looks Tiger Lily’s people shot in her direction convinced Jocelyn that it was time for her and her crew to be on their way.

After thanking Tiger Lily for her hospitality, they made ready to leave. “Men, gather your things,” she commanded. “We must return to the ship at once. And don’t forget the prisoner. Roger, you may guard her as you navigate.” The girl hadn’t yet decided whether or not to tell Evie the true nature of their relationship, and she didn’t feel in the mood for casual chitchat.

Jocelyn let the others get ahead while she fell back with Starkey. The puzzle of her mother would have to wait. She wanted to talk about where the treasure lay. “Do you need to see the map again to refresh your memory?” she asked.

“I do not. I know precisely where it is.” He spoke in a whisper, drawing farther back, creating distance between them and the rest of the crew.

“Even so,” Jocelyn replied, “the land may have changed since the map was drawn. Will you lead us there?”

“No need. I daresay you are likely to know your way there better than anyone.”

“I doubt that is true.”

“Well then, little miss, you would be wrong—though you are likely used to it. However…” His eyes darted about, as if to ensure they were alone. The others were far ahead of them now. “I won’t be telling you after all. I made a blood oath not to reveal it. Solve the map’s puzzle and you’ll know all you need.” With that, he stepped off the path and slipped into the trees.

Jocelyn gave chase. “Wait! What about the Code of Brotherhood?” she yelled after him.

“Never trust a pirate!” he called back just as the girl lost sight of him.

Jocelyn and the crew searched—Meriwether even called for his soldiers to assist—but Starkey had simply disappeared, taking his knowledge of the map with him.

A crafty one, was he. Never trust a pirate, indeed.