A strong arm hooked across Wendy’s chest and pulled her free. She thrashed and fell to her knees. She scrambled back, frantically kicking away the last of the falling ash.

Ash, and a carpet of golden sparks that lit up the clearing. They danced and flickered around her. Was she dreaming?

Peter stood in the center. The sparks winked beneath his bare feet. He held his right hand at his side, palm forward in caution. In his left hand was a sword, but not a normal sword—not that Wendy had ever actually seen a sword in person. But this one was made of the same golden sparks that surrounded him. It looked solid and weighty in his hand, a shelled hilt that curved into a long blade. It sparked and glittered in his grip. The light caught in the deep lines of worry on Peter’s face. His eyes were intense as they searched Wendy’s. The light reflected and danced in them.

“Wendy, are you okay?” Peter took a step forward and Wendy flinched back. His gaze followed hers, which remained locked on the weapon in his hand. He cursed under his breath and, with a twist of his wrist, the sword disappeared in a shower of sparks.

It only made her feel a little better. She was in a daze, chest heaving up and down. All traces of that thing were gone.

“What was that?” Wendy croaked. She could see from the lights that whatever had attacked her was gone, but they were starting to fade. She didn’t want to be left alone in the dark again. Wendy scrambled to her feet, but her legs were shaky and fatigued. She stumbled, and this time she let Peter reach out and help her.

“Peter, please, we need to get out of here. There’s something in the woods,” Wendy pleaded, her voice hoarse and cracking. She tugged on his arm with her quivering hands. Her eyes dashed around wildly. They weren’t alone. Something was in there. It was going to take her. Tears blurred Wendy’s vision.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s gone now,” Peter said, gently cupping her cheek in his warm hand, but his soft voice did nothing to reassure her.

Wendy shook her head violently. Her knees buckled under her. Their only source of light was fading rapidly.

She pulled harder on Peter’s arm. “We have to get out of here—we can’t stay here! I can’t!” She felt the woods pressing in around her. Any moment, fingers would reach out and snatch her up. She would be trapped and lost among the trees forever.

They needed to leave, they needed to escape—