She’s seen Peter glance at Tiger Lily more than once, his expression puzzled, like he’s trying to remember something lost. Does he even recognize her, who she used to be, and what he’s done? Wendy thinks of the last time they were in the cave, claiming the bones she’d seen didn’t belong to anyone. Is he really callous enough to hurt without memory, to not see the people he causes pain? If all his darkness is in the shadow then maybe it’s true. Except she’s seen the light in his eyes, the way it changes like liquid fire. Peter was always monster and boy both, she just never saw it clearly before.

Tiger Lily straightens. The fire-colored light surrounding the creature outlines her. She faces Wendy, and even in shadows, her eyes are bright. Wendy sees the woman Tiger Lily might have become, should have become, if she’d been allowed to grow up properly and not into this wasted thing. All at once, her guilt and fear are irrelevant. It isn’t her choice to make. It’s Tiger Lily’s.

“Peter is my fight as much as yours. Maybe more.” Tiger Lily’s voice is no longer a wounded thing, wind soughing through trees. It is flint, striking sparks. “You left. I stayed.”

A different kind of guilt knifes through Wendy. She left; Tiger Lily stayed. But back then, what else could either of them have done? What choice did they have?

“All right, then.” Wendy takes a deep breath. “It’s far past time.”

She loosens her grip, but not enough to let Peter escape, guiding him down the slope ahead of her. Tiger Lily follows, and Wendy tries to ignore the way her legs tremble. The creature turns its head to track their progress, looking at them in its eyeless way. It makes no other move, and Wendy thinks perhaps it can’t, rooted in the very stone.

As they near the bottom of the slope, Peter stumbles. Instinct makes Wendy reach to catch him before she can think whether it’s deliberate or accidental. The movement puts her off balance, and Peter uses it, rolling forward and letting his weight pull them both down. Wendy loses her grip as she tumbles. When she stops, she finds herself resting up against Peter’s shadow. It is solid and insubstantial at once. Hot and cold. The absence of light and unbearably bright; she can scarcely look at it.

“Catch him!” she shouts to Tiger Lily, scrambling to right herself.

As Peter tries to crawl away from her, Wendy grabs his foot, hauling him backward. He screams, lashing at her with his other leg. Wendy dodges, barely avoiding getting kicked in the jaw. Peter’s eyes shine wild, sweat streaking his face.