“We’re running out of time,” Peter said, gingerly pressing the frozen peas to his lip.

Wendy pushed her hands through her hair. “I know, I know.”

“I’m nearly out of magic,” he said, examining his hand. “Without it, I don’t know how we’ll stop my shadow.”

Wendy chewed on her bottom lip. Indeed, he seemed even more exhausted than he had last night. His eyelids drooped and his skin had a faint pallor to it.

“How will we know if it’s all gone?” Wendy asked.

“I don’t know, exactly, but I’m sure it’ll be obvious,” he said gravely.

Fear reached its way up her throat and clawed at her tongue. What would happen to Peter when his magic ran out? Would he just disappear in a wisp of smoke? Crumble into a pile of ash? Or drop dead at her feet? The very thought made her head swim.

“How do we weaken something that feeds off fear?” Wendy said aloud.

Peter shrugged miserably.

That was the real question, the problem they needed a solution to. What could they do? What was the next step? Where could they look for answers?

Wendy remembered the key in her pocket.

“Last night, before I found you in my parents’ room,” Wendy began suddenly. Peter looked confused at the sudden jump in conversation. “I was in the hallway, and I swear I heard voices coming from my old room,” she told him. “They were the same whispering voices I heard when I was trying to find Alex in the woods, when I dreamed about the tree, and when we were standing right in front of it. The door’s been locked for ages, but”—Wendy dug the key out of her pocket and held it out for Peter to see—“I found this on my dad’s desk today. I’m almost positive it unlocks the door.”

Peter examined the key carefully. “So, you want to go check it out?” he guessed.

Wendy nodded. “The voices have to mean something, and there has to be a reason I can hear them in that room,” she told him. He looked uneasy. “It doesn’t hurt to poke around, right?” she pressed. “Maybe it’ll help jog my memory for something useful.” Her hand pressed to the acorn where it hid under the neck of her shirt.

“It’s the only idea we’ve got,” he agreed, after a moment, even though he looked like he wanted to argue it further.

Wendy tugged on his arm. “Let’s go.”

CHAPTER 19

Growing Up