Wood Sprites

“I wish they had gotten front seats.” Jillian bit her bottom lip to keep it from quivering. “I hope they don’t come in so late that they end up standing in the back.”

Louise glanced at Jillian, surprised. Jillian had never cared before where their parents sat. She supposed it was because this was the first time that Jillian was playing the hero instead of the villain. “They’ll be able to see more of the stage. If they’re right up front, they might miss something you do because they’re looking at Elle or Iggy.”

Jillian gave her the little frown that said she knew full well that Louise was trying to cheer her up.

The clock hit start time, and Louise tapped the play button and clicked her first timer to start the countdown. The overture started with the upbeat “To Neverland” song that Louise had written for the production. The rustle of people finding their seats grew louder. Louise started to slowly dim the house lights and bringing up the curtain lights. There was a gasp from all the other kids as they realized it was time.

“Jillian!” Mr. Howe whispered loudly and waved at Jillian to come get into the flying harness.

Jillian flung her arms around Louise.

The fear that had been echoing faintly leapt forward, and Louise clung hard to her twin, suddenly afraid. “Be careful.”

Jillian laughed nervously. “What could possibly happen? It’s not like I’m going to be flying around twenty feet above — ow!”

Louise had pulled Jillian’s hair hard enough to hurt. “I’m serious.” She considered adding that she had a bad feeling but decided that Jillian was already nervous enough. “Just be careful.”

“Jillian!” Mr. Howe hissed louder.

Jillian squeezed her once and then darted away.

The seats beside Nikola stayed empty. The rustle from the audience died to an expectant hush. The overture ran five minutes and three seconds. At a minute and a half, Louise killed the house lights completely. Where were their parents?

Louise watched everyone scurry into place, her hands over the keys of the console as her timer counted down. Giselle and Renata in a two-person dog suit were sprawled out in the middle of the Darling nursery floor. They were jointly playing the nanny dog, Nana. Carlos and Darius, who played the Darling boys, jittered beside Louise. Elle stood poised as Wendy, no nerves showing. Across the stage, Ava waited in the wings. She looked nearly adult in Mrs. Darling’s evening dress and high heels, wringing her hands in nervousness.

Flying harness hooked up, Jillian bounded from the wings to the nursery window stage-center and stepped through to the back of the set.

Everyone in place. Louise spared another glance at the monitor on the now darkened theater. Had their parents slipped in after she dimmed down the lights? She couldn’t make out Nikola to check the empty seats beside him.

Louise tensed as the timer counted down the last few moments of music and, at zero she danced her fingers over the console, opening up the curtains, bringing up the spotlight on Nana, and hitting the sound effect of the nursery clock chiming nine o’clock.

Nana leapt up and the play was officially started. Louise took a deep breath. It felt like she’d started a massive boulder rolling and now had to watch it trundle forward, too large to be safely stopped. She waited with her hands poised over the control panel. Onstage, Mr. and Mrs. Darling tucked their children in, happy despite the fact they were poor and struggling. In a few minutes, they would leave for a rare evening out, thinking their children were safe in bed, but they would be wrong. A powerful stranger had been watching from a distance, jealous of what they had. He was about to swoop in and steal away the Darlings’ happiness for his own selfish gain. Blind to the danger, the children wouldn’t even understand enough to fight their abduction.

Louise grew aware of someone on her right, watching her, not the play. She spared a glance. Tristan stood beside her in his Lost Boy costume. He had an odd stunned look on his face, like someone had just told him bad news and he wasn’t sure how to react to it.

Louise’s stomach churned sickeningly. What did he know? All afternoon she had felt as though something horrible was going to happen. Had something happened with Mr. Kessler? It had been over a week and the police hadn’t found any trace of him after he fled the school.

Louise realized that the next section of play was about to begin, and she needed to focus. Mrs. Darling was turning off the nursery’s lamps, leaving on only dim night-lights. An earlier glimpse of Peter Pan at the window, though, had filled Mrs. Darling with fear for her children. Louise felt the trembling echo of that unease.

“Dear night-lights that protect my sleeping babes.” Mrs. Darling spoke her last line before her children flew away from their safe little house. “Burn clear and steadfast to-night.”