For centuries, philosophers the world over have debated whether doing something wrong for the right reasons justifies that act. Morals can be such burdensome things. That is precisely why I am happy to remain unafflicted by them.

Jocelyn had no such luck. The girl sat alone at her fire, waiting for Evie to return with her berries and for Roger to simply return. She alternated between anger at him for not going along with her plan and shame that she had tried to force him to.

After what seemed like hours of waiting, but in reality was likely no more than ten or fifteen minutes, Jocelyn decided to storm off herself, though she regretted no one was around to witness it. Had someone been, the girl was certain hers would have gone down as the most dramatic leaving in history. Being alone robbed her of that honor and she added it to the list of reasons she should be irritated with Roger.

Jocelyn wandered the woods, most certainly not searching for him—even though it was growing dark and he had been gone a very long time. She decided it likely that Roger had caught up with Evie and made her his new best friend. They were probably laughing together over some rich, warm, meaty stew.

Jocelyn imagined the scene so clearly, she could smell the stew meat. Her stomach growled and her mouth watered in response. As she walked on, peering around trees and up game paths—not looking for Roger—the smell grew stronger. Perhaps it wasn’t her imagination after all!

She scrambled to the top of a boulder to get a better look around. Through the trees, not far in the distance, she spied a flicker of firelight. It couldn’t have been Roger and Evie, for several figures were silhouetted around the crackling flames. And judging from the delicious smell on the air, whoever they were, they had something far better than twigs and leaves for supper.

Normally, approaching an unknown group in the dead of night is a bad idea, unless, of course you are planning on ambushing them—which, if it came down to it, Jocelyn most certainly would have done. She was determined to share that meal by invitation or by force. The girl was a pirate, after all; it was time she began acting like it.

Jocelyn crept ever closer, near enough to spy a leg of venison rotating slowly on a spit, its juices dripping into the flames with sweet little pops and hisses. Her stomach rumbled and she prepared to strike, but before she could formulate an attack, an attack came to her.

A small, fierce creature dashed out of the circle of firelight and leaped on the girl, knocking her over. It focused its attack on Jocelyn’s face—not with bites, but with a vigorous and violent licking.

“Snow!” a young woman called. “Get off her. That is no way to treat a friend!”

The wolf pup relinquished its seat on Jocelyn’s chest and moved to stand beside its master.

“What are you doing wandering the woods alone? It’s nearly dark out,” Tiger Lily said. “What would your pirate nursemaid think of this?”

A wise man once said: A full belly diminishes all other problems. That wise man was me.

Though it was true in the case of Jocelyn, diminishing is not the same as removing. Upon hearing that Roger and Evie were out in the woods alone—and without supper—Tiger Lily sent one of her warriors to find them. When they arrived, everyone sat around the fire, eating the wonderfully rich stew. Throughout the meal, Roger refused to look at Jocelyn, which was vexing, mainly because she wanted him to notice that she was not looking at him.

After each bowl was empty—and, in Jocelyn’s case, licked clean—Tiger Lily spread out extra buffalo robes and invited the children to share her camp for the night. Evie and Roger climbed into theirs right away, but Jocelyn stayed near the fire. She found a stick on the ground and used it to poke at the coals, discovering that boys were onto something. It was rather soothing.

She was full and she was warm, but she was not content.

“You look like you could use some company.” Tiger Lily joined the girl, sitting on the ground next to her. “I am surprised to see you out here. Are you searching for the place on your map?”

“No. I found out where the map leads. It’s not even on the Neverland, but we are on the treasure hunt, in a way. What are you doing out here?”

“I have brought my best braves with me on a quest to find a silver grizzly bear. They say those who catch a glimpse of him will have good luck in all the next year’s hunting.”

“You’ll find him. My mo—” Jocelyn looked over at Evie, stretched out on her buffalo bed. “Someone once told me that anything was possible if you first decide what you want, believe you can have it, and don’t let anything stand in your way.”

“That is very good advice.”

“Yes. And it worked when I was hunting the Neverland crocodile, but it’s much harder now. I want to find my father’s treasure. I believe I can. It’s just…” She looked over at Roger. He was lying propped up on his elbows, using a piece of string from his pocket to teach Evie how to make a cat’s cradle design. “What if the thing that is standing in my way are the people that I care about?”

Tiger Lily nodded. “That is difficult. But consider this: If that is the case, perhaps you want the wrong thing. Or you are going about the wrong way of achieving it.” She took up her own stick and stirred the coals. “Sometimes believing in yourself isn’t enough. You have to believe in others as well.” She tossed her stick in the fire and brushed off her hands. “I wish you luck on your journey, wherever it takes you. Good night, young captain.”

Jocelyn said her good nights and joined Roger and Evie, her thoughts all abuzz. Roger rolled over, away from her, though Jocelyn could tell by his breathing that he had not yet fallen asleep.

Evie filled the cracks his silence might have otherwise occupied with her cheerful chatter. The girl lay in her blanket, marveling over the night sky. She praised the stars for their sparkling talent, pointing out her favorites. The stars could not resist such flattery and began to twinkle extra brightly, each hoping to gain her attention.

Even Jocelyn’s spirits were lifted somewhat by the show playing out above her. Orion, the hunter, held his bow steady, flexing his starry muscles. Taurus, the bull, pawed the sky with one cloven hoof, steam twinkling from his nostrils and dissipating into the Milky Way.

“I love the Neverland! There is nothing at all like this in England,” Evie said, turning Jocelyn’s mood sour again.

Younger stars, not attached to any constellations, began to show off, as young things are wont to do. Soon the sky was filled with streaks of light.

“Quick, everyone, make a wish!” Evie said. “What did you wish for, Jocelyn?”

“Wishing on stars is stupid,” she said. “They never come true the way you want them to.”

“I don’t know about that. I think things have a way of working out just the right way, even if we can’t see it when we are in the thick of it.”

Jocelyn hoped that was true, though she couldn’t imagine how. Just then, Orion loosed his arrow. The brightest star the girl had ever seen hurled itself from one end of the sky to the other, and she couldn’t resist: I wish that things would work out in just the right way. And I wish it wouldn’t cost me my friends to make that happen.