They all feared fire, and the scent of smoke should drive them away instead of arousing their curiosity. Though that juvenile had run right at the fire . . . but that one was stupid or sick. It had to be.
“Okay, Jamie,” Charlie said, his voice very small. “I’ll mind you. I’ll be good.”
I smiled at him, and rumpled his duckling-fuzz hair, and he smiled at me in return.
“Stay with Del,” I said. “Don’t wander off on your own.”
“I won’t,” he said, and there was the shadow of a sneaking, peeking crocodile on his face.
I went to have a word with Del. “Keep Charlie close to you.”
He was the only one of the boys who were left that I could trust completely to follow his task and not get distracted like a magpie.
Del coughed, a cough that started off low and ended with him spitting out a great gob of blood on the cave floor. His cheekbones were sharp enough to slice you open but his eyes were steady as he said, “I will.”
“Nip’s got it in for Charlie and for you,” I said. “I’ll be back as quick as I can, but watch yourself until I am.”
“I’m not afraid of Nip,” Del said, his fingers wrapped tight around the pirate’s sword. “But come back soon, anyway, Jamie.”
Del went to Charlie, who stood exactly where I’d left him, watching me. Del took Charlie’s hand and then called to the other boys to follow as he led them back down the path.
Nod and Fog, who were supposed to be leading the group at Peter’s decree, were squabbling over something in the back of the cave.
Charlie glanced back at me as Del led him away, and I felt a stab of fear. He was so little, so vulnerable, and so much could happen while I was gone. I was the only one who could really look after him properly.
And we never should have taken him in the first place. That was what ate at me, really. Charlie wasn’t one of our boys. He wasn’t lost, not in the way that Peter preferred. He had a family.
That, I couldn’t solve. Once you came to the island you could not leave—that was one of Peter’s most fixed rules. If you weren’t happy, then you could go to the pirates or feed yourself to the Many-Eyed or toss yourself into the mermaid lagoon and drown, but you could never go back to the Other Place.
So I went to Nod and Fog, because I would need them to keep Del and Charlie and the others safe from that look in Nip’s eye, the one that said he was only waiting for his chance.
The twins hadn’t noticed the others departing. They were arguing (I really did not care to know about what), and while they hadn’t gotten to the point of rolling on the ground punching each other, experience told me this was in the offing.
Before they could get started I smacked them both in the back of the head. They looked up at me with innocent eyes.
“We weren’t doing anything,” Nod said.
“Yes, we were. He took . . .” Fog started, but I cut him off.
“Listen to me,” I said, and lowered my voice though no one was about. Peter could be outside, lurking, listening. “What do you think of that new boy, Nip?”
“Don’t like him,” Fog said immediately.
“He’s a bully,” Nod agreed. “And he wants a fight with you, Jamie. We all can tell. Do you want me to put biting bugs in his clothes? I can do that. He’ll go mad from the itching.”
“Never mind that,” I said. “Don’t worry about me. It’s Del and Charlie I’m worried about.”
“Charlie’s never done nothing to him,” Nod said. “But Del got that Nip good.”
“He was roaring around just like a big old bear when Del threw the fire in his eyes,” Fog said.
He jumped to his feet and started on a credible imitation of Nip staggering around with coals in his eyes.
This was precisely why I couldn’t leave Charlie alone with these two. They went off on their own adventures and forgot everything around them.
“Stop,” I said.
Fog quit his antics and Nod stopped laughing and sat up straight.
“I want you to keep an eye on Nip,” I said.
This was better than asking them to watch Charlie, which they were unlikely to do well. They’d forget about him in an instant. But if they thought there was a chance they might get to tease Nip or harry him or fight him, they wouldn’t forget.
“If he tries for Del or Charlie, you stop him.”
“How do you want us to stop him, Jamie?” Nod asked.
I knew what he was asking. Did I want them to hurt Nip or kill him? If they killed Nip outside of Battle, then Peter would come down on them—might even try to exile them, despite all the time they’d been on the island. I’d never let it come to that, of course. I’d never let them take a punishment meant for me.
Besides, if someone was going to kill Nip, then I wanted to do the deed myself. Nip, I felt, had brought something rotten to the island. He was a worm inside the sweet fruit, and when you found a worm you tossed it to the ground and stomped on it.
“Don’t make it forever,” I said. “But I don’t mind if you bloody him while you’re at it.”
They grinned at each other, already planning their sport.
“Now get on,” I said. “The rest of the boys are already gone.”
“We’ll catch up to them faster than a mermaid can flip her tail,” Fog said.
“Don’t let Nip do anything to Charlie,” I warned. “Or there’s always Battle.”
The twins never fought me at Battle. Never. It had likely contributed to their long life on the island.
The same fear blazed up in two identical sets of eyes. I knew they would mind me, and keep a sharp watch on Nip. They collected their things and chased out after the others.
The bonfire had burned down to nothing but glowing coals, but a few pieces along the edge of the pit were unburned at one end and burning on the other. They’d serve my purpose.
The first seeking fingers of dawn were stretching over the plains when I rounded the cave wall. Peter was perched on the little rock shelf, whittling at a piece of wood.
The shape of his creation was just forming—a round ball at the top that spread down into a kind of bell shape. It looked like a child’s toy—a doll, perhaps.
We didn’t have any toys on the island, for all that we were a band of boys. Despite his fear of growing up, Peter likewise disdained child’s toys, which were from the country of babies. Our toys were knife and sword and stick and rock, the kind of playthings that bit.
I stopped and narrowed my eyes in suspicion. Was he planning some trick on Charlie?
“What’s that?” I asked.
Peter tucked it away and resheathed the knife before I could get a good look at it.
“Nothing really,” he said easily, and his too-unconcerned manner set the hair on the back of my neck rising. Before I could say anything he spoke again. “Didn’t you want to burn that mess and lay a false trail? Are you going to wait until the whole tribe of Many-Eyed are climbing the cliff in search of it?”
Of course he was right, and I did want to return to the others. But he was hiding something. He had that look.
The sun was halfway to its zenith before I got the Many-Eyed burning well. It’s not as easy as you’d think, burning a dead creature. Flesh and skin want to cook and crisp and char rather than ignite. If you want to get a body burning, you’ve got to build up the fire around it good and hot and then keep watching it to make sure it stays aflame. Once that fire is hot enough, though, the body will burn right down to the bones.