Devourer of Men: A Captain Hook, Crocodile, and Wendy Darling Reimagining
Chapter 21

Wendy Darling thinks I abandoned her here?

I didn’t even know she was in the Seven Isles until recently. Pan conveniently left out the detail where instead of taking her home to the mortal realm, he abandoned her on Everland.

If he wasn’t a god, I would kill him just for the inconvenience.

Wendy darts from the hall, her dress billowing behind her, her heart thumping loudly even over the din of the court.

She’s angry at me, yes, and now jealous that I have our lovely Captain and she doesn’t. If she’d given me the opportunity, I would have told her there was more than enough room in my bed for her and the Captain. I can easily satisfy them both.

“Roc.”

I hear the Captain calling my name.

I’m still locked on Wendy’s disappearing figure.

The court has turned to the next song, a reel that’s been out of fashion for some years now. I grab a glass from a passing server and take a long drink. Its champagne infused with berries. The bubbles pop on my tongue.

“Beast,” the Captain hisses and I finally turn to him. “What did you say to her? Why did she run away?”

“She’s jealous.”

“Of what?”

“You and I.”

He snorts. “There is no you and I.”

I clutch at my heart. “You wound me, Captain.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous.”

I take another drink, emptying the champagne flute. I stalk the next closest server and switch out my glass.

“I’m going after her,” the Captain says, starting for the door.

“To what end?”

“To see if she’s all right.”

I follow him from the hall. “She’s not all right. She’s mad, confused, and afraid of something. I wish she’d tell me what so I can kill it and we can be done with this.”

The Captain lowers his voice, leaning into me, but it still sounds like he’s shouting at me. “You can’t go around threatening to kill someone in a foreign court!”

“Now who’s being ridiculous? Of course I can.”

“The fact that you never concern yourself with consequences⁠—”`

“Is impressive?” I cut in.

“No.” His scowl deepens. “Worrisome.”

“Ahh. That was going to be my seventh guess.”

He gives me another look, clearly vexed with me and it makes me want to poke and prod at him more.

An annoyed Captain makes me hungry.

We stop in the middle of the arched hallway. A few courtesans amble past, but everyone steers clear of me.

“How about this? You go after our dearest Darling,” I tell him. “And I’ll go in search of information.”

“What kind of information and in what way? No stabbing or killing.”

“Are you giving me orders?”

“If I were, would you abide them?”

I shrug and scan the hall. “If you ordered me to please you, I would.”

He screws up his mouth. “Well I would never.”

His heart ticks up a beat, telling me he’s lying.

“Sure sure,” I say. “Now run along, Captain. I have work to do.”

With a huff, he disappears down the hall leaving me to my own devices.

It’s my opinion that if you want information, you ask the help.

The help can get into places that regular people can’t and often they’re overlooked, so they hear things that no one else hears.

I start with the kitchen staff.

The page is so distracted he barely gives me a second glance so I don’t bother with him. There’s a line cook in the kitchen pouring boiling water down a drain. Her face is red and splotchy like the night has gotten the best of her. Not quite what I’m looking for.

I replace a young woman in the scullery scrubbing dried onion soup from serving bowls. She’s hunched over the stone trough sink, bubbles and dishes up to her elbows.

Leaning against the doorway, I say, “I replace the work goes faster if you just toss the dishes into the trash.”

She startles at the sound of my voice and then hastens to bow.

I guess my reputation has found its way here already, to this dark corner of the kitchen.

“Can I help you, sir?” she asks, head bent, eyes downcast.

“Something is troubling me.”

“If I can help, sir, I will try.”

She has the soft, olive complexion of the Summerlanders, and the thick, curly hair too. If that didn’t give it away, her accent would. It’s a lilting accent with a soft trill on the Rs.

“I was just in the supper hall,” I start, “and someone told me I should be careful around here? You’ll have to forgive me, it’s been so long since I’ve been on Everland soil. You wouldn’t happen to know what they were talking about, would you?” I take a step into the scullery. “I don’t want to replace myself in a spot of trouble, you know.”

“Of course not, sir.” Her wet hands twist up in the ivory apron tied around her waist. “But it’s not really my place to talk.”

I make a tsk-tsk with my tongue and her eyes catch on my mouth, the way my lips form the sound.

Her olive complexion floods with rose.

I know what I do to women. It’s a gift and a curse. More gift than curse if I’m honest. I don’t know that my dashing good looks and relentless charm has ever gotten me into trouble.

It’s definitely gotten me out of it on more than one occasion.

I take another step. The girl tries to fill her lungs, but I can hear the shallowness of the breath and the rapid thump-thump of her heart. She knows me, of course, they all know me. And getting cornered in a scullery with a beast such as myself can either be the preamble to a good time or a very bad one.

But I have no designs on the girl. I just want the information.

“If I promise to keep it between us,” I say, lowering my voice to a husky rumble, “would that help loosen your tongue?”

At the word tongue, she gulps down another breath.

“I shouldn’t⁠—”

I didn’t think it would take quite this much maneuvering, but just as well I suppose.

I pull a fairy bar from my pocket and toss it to her. She catches it, but her slippery hands lose it and the bar clings loudly against the stone floor.

When she spots exactly what it is, her eyes get big and round like full moons and then she’s tripping over her words.

“I don’t mean to…or perhaps…you must know…ahhh…” She eyes the bar again. She hasn’t budged to snatch it. “Sir,” she tries again.

“Pick up the bar.” My voice is level, not at all threatening. But she chokes on a breath and then stoops down for the gold. It quickly disappears into the pocket of her apron.

“You were saying?” I push.

She wrings her hands. “Promise you won’t tell on me for gossiping?”

I lift my little finger. “It’s a pinky promise.”

She smiles nervously, then hooks her pinky around mine. The heat that rises in her neck turns her skin bright red.

“Go on then. We are now bound by oath.”

This brightens her eyes.

“Well…” Her gaze darts over my shoulder as if she’s looking for eavesdroppers. But my hearing is better than her vision and I don’t detect anyone within twenty feet and those in the kitchen are too busy buzzing around cleaning up after the five-course meal.

“There are rumors about a witch infiltrating the court.”

“No!” I say, aghast.

“Yes. The king and the prince do not age, you see. And it all started with the arrival of the new queen, Queen Wendellyn.”

Wendy changed her name?

“Then what?”

The girl leans in. We’re co-conspirators now and we’re having a hell of a good time.

“First the king stopped aging.”

“Shut up,” I say.

“Truly! And that was right after he married his new queen. Then his son, the prince, over the next several years, he too stopped aging and there were rumors that the queen was having an illicit affair with the prince.”

“Scandalous.”

“I know!” The girl covers her mouth as a giggle bursts from her throat.

I don’t like that she’s reveling in the supposed wicked affairs of Wendy, but when one is gathering information, one must act the part.

“What else?” I ask.

“Well, early this year, the king stopped appearing in public and they say he’s now dying, having aged rapidly over night and he’s now slipped into a coma.”

“So we think the queen has turned on him?”

The girl nods.

“Why? What would she stand to gain? She’ll lose her throne when he dies.”

The girl’s eyes gleam.

“Oh you have more? Do tell.”

“Well.” She checks the doorway again, and then plunges on. “Years back, the king amended the royal code and instead of the prince inheriting the throne on his father’s death, Queen Wendellyn will.”

Well I didn’t expect that.

“Why would he do that?”

The girl shrugs. “Maybe she twisted his mind into doing it with her dark magic.”

I was raised steeped in darkness. I know dark power when I see it and when Wendy Darling was brought to Neverland all those years ago, she had no power to speak of.

But when she dragged us into the castle this morning, I did sense something different about her.

It’s not often a mortal becomes magical, but the Seven Isles are full of tricks.

The girl goes on, but she’s just tossing out her own theories now. Maybe Wendy is secretly a dark fae (she’s not). Maybe she has designs to kill the king and marry the prince (she’ll marry that shit over my dead body). Maybe she’s a fairy godmother come to punish a wicked court (wouldn’t that be hilarious).

I stop listening at fairy godmother (no fairy godmothers reside in this realm) when my hearing picks up on a steady beating heart just outside the scullery.

Someone is listening.

The breathing is just as steady as the heart beat. This someone is no stranger to eavesdropping. They aren’t nervous about getting caught. An interesting position to have when you’re eavesdropping on a beast.

By the tempo of the heart rate, I’m guessing it’s a woman.

I let the scullery maid drone on as I take a few silent steps toward the doorway.

And then⁠—

I pop out into the hallway.

There’s no one there.

“Is something the matter?” the girl asks.

I turn back to her and smile. “You’ve been extremely helpful. I shouldn’t keep you from your work any longer.”

She glances at the full trough sink and frowns. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“Could you do me a favor and not mention my visit?”

The girl blushes harder. “Of course, Mr. Crocodile.”

See? Of course she knows me.

I take her hand in mine and kiss her wet knuckles. She catches herself on the edge of the sink as her knees wobble from what I can only presume is equal parts fright and elation.

“Good night, petit pois,” I whisper.

She lets out a little huff of air. “Good night, sir.”