the rapids

Fauna busied herself rooting through the crate of spare daggers and broken guns, slipping a few blades into her belt as the others gasped at Lake’s words. She felt her ears going red as a few of them just sat or stood frozen. At her last words, the other kids sparked to life, armoring themselves as best they could, grabbing waterskins, pulling on boots with steel toes that had been stolen from the port. Faun glanced to Lake and gave her a quick nod, before slipping into Peter’s private chamber of the house. There was one more thing she wanted to get for this trip; Peter had been given a brass ring with a bear paw carved into it by Tiger Lily’s father years back. It would be perfect for branding the dirty pirates that had survived the attack on Peter and Faun. Yosef. Suki. Starkey.

“Ah yes, those filthy pirates probably–” Faun’s eyes stung and she blinked away tears as she thought of what they were doing to Peter. “I’m gonna brand each and every one of them,” she muttered darkly, dropping Lake’s hand and tumbling into the home, skidding to a halt in front of the table, where she and Peter had left some animal skins she’d dried at her camp. She tramped over to where a few empty water bags hung, and began gathering a few things, ignoring the few lost boys that were sitting around in the home; they all watched Faun, looking around to each other for some sort of explanation. 

Fauna nodded in approval; there was Stealthy and Noddy that were most quiet, but she wasn’t sure if the latter would be up for much of a mission, as he was silent, but skittish. “Yeah, we’ll have to get a bag together for Peter too; he doesn’t have his weapons,” she told Lake, trying to remember what he might have on his person. How foolish they’d been, only going out with the tools to gather fruits and veg, pompously believing they wouldn’t need much to defend themselves if someone were to come along. In fact, she hadn’t even taken into account that someone might have tried and attack them. The home underground in sight now, Faun felt her pace quicken a bit, wanting to get right down to business at the first chance.

Fauna’s mind wandered; she hoped that Peter wasn’t too hurt, and that he was giving the pirates as much hell as she was feeling right then. It had been such a brutal and surprise attack; bad form, as the codfish would’ve called it. And yet he’d let it happen. They’d been instructed not to kill–what was Hook up to? She was brought back to earth when Lake squeezed her hand; Faun looked down at their clutched fingers, and squeezed back, before looking up at Lake. She was so brave and kind. Normally, Fauna felt like she could handle anything on her own, that being little had its own advantages. However she appreciated having someone older beside her just now; not that she’d ever admit that. “I think they’ve taken him prisoner. They said something about the captain wanting us alive before they took him.” She said quietly, wanting to work out a plan.

Fauna nodded morosely, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “I can manage,” she said quietly, but then looked up at Lake with tears welling behind her eyes. She slipped her little bruised hand into Lake’s, walking beside her. She needed something to tether her to earth; they would find Peter. They would save him. And they needed to do it together. 

Fauna cradled her head between her hands, shaking her head from side to side. Her ears were still ringing from the battle that had taken place, and she felt an overwhelming inability to do anything right. How could she possibly think of a single happy thought when Peter had been stolen from them? “I don’t…I don’t know, Lake,” she muttered, head pounding. She tried to will herself into the air, but she stayed put like a stump in a bog. “I’ll walk,” she said, defeated.

A short-lived flush of relief came over Fauna at the sight of Lake, but she could feel her limbs trembling as she reached for the water. She’d let Peter down; he was gone, maybe even dead, and that was her fault. If only she’d fought harder, thought smarter, stabbed stronger; this might just be a fun story to tell the lost kids. But he was gone and she felt the weight of both her actions and inaction. 

“Lake, they took him,” she said shakily after a sip of water. It made her want to retch, the way the cool liquid went down so easily. It was delicious and just what she needed, but the stress pulsing through her little body fought its way out. She turned and dry heaved, the water rushing back up. Faun looked frantically back up to Lake. “What are we going to do?”

Lake nodded somberly at Fauna’s comment. “I know,” She whispered in response, scared of what that meant. All the horrible thoughts of Peter’s whereabouts and what the pirates might be doing to him right that very second, if he wasn’t dead already, were screaming at her. It was all she could do not to cry. 

Peter also raised an invisible glass in toast, and imagined he was sipping a sparkling champagne. He crinkled his nose at the imaginary taste and pretended to throw his cup away; he could almost hear it shatter against the cave wall. “I prefer red wine,” he commented, sticking his nose into the air pompously. Pan smacked at the chest once more, as if he’d be taking it off its guard by trying again. “Damn,” he muttered, and then leaned back against the ledge. 

Peter frowned thoughtfully at her explanation, nodding as she spoke. “You know,” he started, still nodding, and then looked at the skull. “I think you’re absolutely right,” Pan agreed, suddenly taking it for fact. “I do remember a be-brooched pirate named Frank. Surely the greedy fellow drowned,” he sighed somberly, holding up the skull in his palm now, and put on a very solemn voice. “To Frank,” he stated, pressing his free hand against his heart. “May you have moved on and found peace. And may we find all of your jewels, you greedy, toad-faced pirate,” he added the last bit with a callous laugh, and chucked the skull across the water, where it slowly sank, bubbles coming up as it went down. Peter had also pulled a beaded necklace that looked quite like a native piece of finery, a broken link of a chain, and a piece of coral rock. “Nice,” he nodded to Lake’s finds, dropping the chain and rock back into the water, and the beads next to the chest. 

“That’s a good idea!” He agreed, thinking that might be the easiest way to get it open. Pan dove back down into the water, and drove his arms through the sand, grasping for anything that felt less than natural, before kicking back up to the surface. He waded over to the ledge and set everything down onto the rock with a loud splunk, and hoisted himself back up beside the pile. “Spooky,” he chuckled, picking up a water corrupted skull that was missing its bottom jaw. He stuck his fingers through the eye sockets, his fist in the skull, and pointed it towards Lake. “Who do you reckon this was?” Peter laughed. 

Peter nodded, and then pulled himself up beside her on the ledge, chuckling. “Always!” he beamed, though he was still catching his breath. Pan turned the chest to face him and held up the padlock with a sigh. “Me too,” he commented, pulling his dagger and smacking the lock aggressively with the pommel a few times. He frowned, irritated that it hadn’t worked, and then shoved the tip of the blade into the lock, fiddling around with it for another moment before irritation took over and he slammed the lock back against the chest. “Needs a key,” he grumbled, sheathing his blade. “Maybe we have something back at the camp,” Peter added, more to ease his own anger than to give hope to Lake. “Let’s see what else is down there,” he stated, giving a forced grin, and jumping back into the water.

Together, whatever was in the water seemed to budge, and Peter kicked his feet in a bicycle motion as he strained to pull harder, the air in his lungs burning white hot. With Lake’s help, a large, rectangular shape was pulled from the miry clay, and Peter kicked off the ocean floor with a ferocious intent to get to the air again. He burst through the skin of the water and gasped loudly, hiccoughing water as he moved slowly towards the ledge again.

Peter shrugged, and watched her drop the broken jewelry beside him. “Oh well, there’s lots to be unearthed down there! Tally-ho!” He shouted, and slumped forward, plopping into the water and diving down deep again, eyes flicking along the floor of the water, where sand had been kicked up floating around from where they’d just pulled treasures. He felt around on the ground, air bursting in his lungs to be let out. There, he found the handle again and began pulling with all of his might, unwilling to resurface until he got this ruddy thing out of the muck.

Peter hoisted himself onto the rock ledge, puffing out air as water dripped from the hair hanging over his forehead. He ran a quick hand through his locks and huffed, looking at the piece he’d pulled from the muck. It was a golden locket in the shape of a heart, holding a purple gem in the center. He swiped the dirt away with his thumb and held it up to the lantern light. “Some sort of necklace,” he replied after a moment. “There was something heavy down there I couldn’t pull from the mud, but I want to go back for it,” he told her, and then looked over at Lake. “What’d you find?”

The pressure in his ears the further they dove made Peter clench his jaw together, but gave a watery smile to Lake when she did, bubbles flooding past his teeth. He pushed on, and scanned the ocean floor. It was hard to see; aside from his blurred vision underwater, it was darker down here. He scooped a handful of sand, fingers closing onto something metallic, and then his other hand grabbed onto a handle of something that he couldn’t budge out of the sand. Peter kicked back up to the surface, puffing out air as soon as he hit the air. 

Peter shrugged, giving a smug smirk as though it didn’t effect him the same way; as though he hadn’t been crying in fear in his sleep just that morning. “Nightlights make everything better,” he commented, and then stood at the edge of the rock, peering down at the sparkling gems below. “Alright, here goes!” he wriggled his brows at her, and then jumped into the air, hovering slightly as he arched and dove at an angle into the chilly water, making his way down to the treasures below.