A shadow, looking very much like that of a boy, ghosted into the train’s control cab through the front window. It came to a stop in front of Michael, which was strange, given how fast the train was moving. He stared at it for several seconds before looking up. There didn’t seem to be anything that could cast such an odd shade, but after a few moments, he spotted a small cloud floating in front of the full moon. That had to be responsible. In fact, if he looked at the shadow, he decided that it didn’t really look like a boy’s at all—even when it seemed to wave at him. So he ignored it, telling himself it was only a trick of the light and a side effect of a long day. After a few seconds, the shadow’s shoulders slumped, and
it slipped out through the same window it had entered from—or, rather, the shadow did what shadows do when they’re no longer visible. It certainly didn’t shrug. Michael glanced back at the sky and found that the cloud had vanished into the night, and the doubt flooded in once again.
“A boy’s shadow,” he said to himself, under his breath. He shook his head to clear away the thought as the train pulled into Paddington, and he occupied himself with delicately bringing tons of steel to a stop.
He waited until the passengers had disembarked before exiting his cab. The station was practically empty, as his train was one of the last to arrive for the night. People greeted their loved ones and headed sleepily for the exit. A few wandered the area with no apparent place to go, but none of them paid Michael any mind, so he ignored them in turn. It had been a long day, and he shambled toward the exit, looking forward to his bed.
As he approached the door, though, his eyes caught sight of the small shield and sword that had been chalked onto the ground, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. For a moment, he considered walking past it, but duty had been ingrained in him during his years of service, and even now, he couldn’t just
ignore it, no matter how much he might want to. He scanned the area until he saw a cloaked figure not quite hidden in the shadows. The figure inclined its head. Michael eyed the exit and once again thought about taking it. They wouldn’t follow. That wasn’t their way. He could be done with this and go home.
He sighed.
It wasn’t his way to ignore this sort of thing, and they knew that.
Finally, he let out a breath and walked over. The figure was a woman dressed in a long brown coat. Once he got a look at her sea-green eyes, he realized he knew her.
“Vanessa, what are you doing here? I told the order that I’m done with them.”
It came out sounding more like a plea than a demand, but Vanessa smiled.
“It’s good to see you, too, Michael.”
Her eyes twinkled as she smiled in a way that reminded Michael of his sister, Wendy. Some of his uneasiness drained away, and he exhaled slowly.
“What do you want?”
“They want to see you.” Her voice, barely above a whisper, was quickly swallowed by the ambient noise of the station. She raised her
hand before Michael had even started his protest. “As an outsider. They’ve granted you a special dispensation.”
Michael let out a low whistle. Outsiders had been permitted to see the ruling council of his old service, but it had happened only rarely. Michael could count the number of times it had been allowed in the past century on one hand, and he realized how powerful a request this was.
And how that honor didn’t change anything.
“I’m done with them. I already told you.”
Vanessa shook her head, a motion which barely disturbed her dark curls. “This is different. A god has gone missing.”
Michael stiffened. Instinctively, he looked around to make sure no one was close, but of course Vanessa had made sure of that before she’d started speaking. They were purposefully out of the way enough to be private, while not appearing so clandestine that their conversation would seem conspicuous. Still, he thought he saw a shadow move on the other side of the station, but it had no apparent source. So, despite her well-chosen place, he moved in closer to her. His mouth had gone dry, and his heart raced.
A missing god. It was . . . unthinkable. Most of the pagan gods had withered as the world
moved into the modern age, but a few were still active. Reality depended on them. They could fade, and probably would given enough time, but their abrupt removal could lead to chaos until the universe adapted to existence without them. He tried to sound like he didn’t care, but he knew his reaction had already told his old companion otherwise.
“The Knights have better agents than me.”
Vanessa shook her head. “Not for this.”
“I’ve been out of the game for years, Vanessa. Surely—”
“The god is Maponos.”
Ice ran through Michael’s veins. Maponos was a god of the ancient Celts, the personification of youth. Unlike most deities, he had remained active in a world where few believed in him. He had even built a realm for himself, a place of imagination and adventure. Michael and his siblings had actually met Maponos long ago, when he was a child. It was before his parents had adopted six additional boys who had been brought from the god’s realm. Aside from his sister, Wendy, all had forgotten where they’d come from, thinking it only a child’s dream. The order Michael Darling had worked for—the one Vanessa belonged to now—knew that his adopted brothers had been called the Lost Boys, who
had lived in the realm of Neverland, and that Michael had once known the god Maponos by another name.
Peter Pan.
“When do we leave?”
Vanessa motioned to the exit. “There’s a car waiting for us.”
Michael nodded and fell into step behind his former colleague. A part of him still wanted to believe that this wasn’t happening. That part almost wept as Michael stepped into the car that would take him back to the life he had left more than a year before. Almost unbidden, the old phrase that he had heard so often before missions popped into his mind.
Half a league onward.
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