A shadow, looking very much like that of a boy, ghosted into the trainās 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 didnāt 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 didnāt really look like a boyās at allāeven 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 shadowās shoulders slumped, and it slipped
out through the same window it had entered fromāor, rather, the shadow did what shadows do when theyāre no longer visible.
It certainly didnāt shrug. Michael glanced back at the sky and found that the cloud had vanished into the night, and the doubt
flooded in once again.
āA boyās shadow,ā 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 couldnāt 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 wouldnāt follow. That wasnāt their way. He could be done with this and go home.
He sighed.
It wasnāt 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.
āVanessa, what are you doing here? I told the order that Iām done with them.ā
It came out sounding more like a plea than a demand, but Vanessa smiled.
āItās good to see you, too, Michael.ā
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.
āWhat do you want?ā
āThey want to see you.ā 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. āAs an outsider. Theyāve granted you a special dispensation.ā
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 didnāt change anything.
āIām done with them. I already told you.ā
Vanessa shook her head, a motion which barely disturbed her dark curls. āThis is different. A god has gone missing.ā
Michael stiffened. Instinctively, he looked around to make sure no one was close, but of course Vanessa had made sure of that
before sheād 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 wasĀ .Ā .Ā . 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 didnāt care, but he knew
his reaction had already told his old companion otherwise.
āThe Knights have better agents than me.ā
Vanessa shook her head. āNot for this.ā
āIāve been out of the game for years, Vanessa. Surelyāā
āThe god is Maponos.ā
Ice ran through Michaelās 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 godās realm. Aside from his sister, Wendy, all had forgotten
where theyād come from, thinking it only a childās dream. The order Michael Darling had worked forāthe one Vanessa belonged
to nowāknew 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.
āWhen do we leave?ā
Vanessa motioned to the exit. āThereās a car waiting for us.ā
Michael nodded and fell into step behind his former colleague. A part of him still wanted to believe that this wasnāt 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.
