The Jolly Roger drifted like a black phantom through the desert night, its sails full though no wind touched them. Below, the dunes shimmered under twilight — not moonlight, for the sky was nearly black — but with some other glow, a faint, unsettling glimmer, as though a thousand fireflies had been buried in the sand.
A cold breeze whistled across the deck, rattling the rigging.
Hook stood at the helm, his good hand gripping the wheel hard enough that his knuckles whitened. His usual sharp tongue was silent. For once, he was just staring — back at the glowing desert, forward into the unending dark. What had just happened in the maze of sand and shadow clawed at the back of his mind.
Peter stood near the starboard rail, his shadow twisting unnaturally at his feet. It didn't quite obey him. When he lifted his hand, the shadow lagged before following, like something alive that needed a moment to understand.
"Still think I'm imagining it?" Peter muttered.
Tinker Bell landed beside him, wings casting a faint halo. "You're not imagining it. That… thing inside you is very real."
Hook's voice cut from across the deck, sharp as a drawn blade. "Whatever it is, keep it chained. I'm not letting this ship become a tomb because the boy discovered he can play tricks with his shadow."
Peter glared. "You think I wanted this?"
But even as he spoke, something deep inside him stirred — something that didn't sound angry but amused.
And while they bickered, they had already drifted into an unknown danger.
The Jolly Roger had sailed into a massive, transparent web suspended in the night sky. The threads were thin and glistening, stretching endlessly, almost invisible until the ship brushed them and made them shiver.
Above, two massive eyes blinked open. They glowed softly at first, then flared — a deep, golden light, full of cruel curiosity.
The web trembled.
A sound like a sigh rolled through the sky.
Peter froze, sensing something though he couldn't name it. "Do you feel that?"
The wind died.
The Jolly Roger slowed, as if an invisible hand had caught her. Then a voice came — smooth, silken, as if spoken from right behind them and from the ends of the desert at once.
"Little flies," the voice purred. "You wander into my web and do not bow. Shall I teach you what hunts in my sky?"
The web lit up, a thousand strands glowing pale silver. The ship was caught in the center like an insect waiting to be devoured.
From the dunes below, sand shivered, then erupted.
The first wolf landed on the deck with a bone-shaking thud.
It was twice the size of any wolf Peter had ever seen, its fur black as soot and bristling with glistening grains of sand. Its eyes glowed red, and its breath steamed like smoke. When it bared its teeth, its canines were streaked crimson — fresh blood that dripped onto the deck in fat droplets.
And then it leapt — not down, but up, as if invisible steps had formed in the air.
Another landed beside it. Then another. Soon the ship was surrounded by a pack of giant wolves leaping in perfect arcs, bounding in midair, circling the Jolly Roger like predators sizing up their prey.
Peter's pulse thundered.
"Don't just stand there!" Hook bellowed, drawing his cutlass. "Fight!"
He slashed at the nearest wolf. The blade bit, but the wound sealed instantly, grains of sand knitting over the gash.
"They're not dying!" Hook snarled.
The wolves howled, a chorus so loud it rattled the deckboards.
And they lunged.
Peter ducked, barely avoiding snapping jaws. He stumbled back, heart hammering — and the wolves grew bigger.
Their shadows stretched long across the deck, claws elongating until they scraped the planks.
"They're feeding on us," Tink shouted, her wings flaring with light. "Our fear is making them stronger!"
Before Hook could answer, the witch's voice echoed from the sky, spinning like a thread through their ears:
"I am the forge where monsters grow,I make the smallest terror sow.The more you feed me, the more I reign,Starve me — and I die in pain.Speak my fate, or be devoured whole."
The words vibrated in the deck, leaving faint glowing script under their boots.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Hook shouted, slashing wildly as a wolf leapt past him, jaws snapping inches from his face.
Peter's mind raced. "A riddle," he said, ducking under another wolf. "She's giving us a riddle!"
"And if we get it wrong?" Tink shot back, blasting a flare of golden light at a leaping wolf.
"We don't get a second chance!"
Peter felt the deck tremble under the wolves' weight. He tried to think. The witch had said starve me and I die in pain. What could they starve?
Another wolf lunged, knocking him backward. His head slammed against the deck, vision flashing. Above, he saw the massive golden eyes blink — slow, expectant, like a spider waiting for her prey to stop struggling.
And then it clicked.
Fear.
Not just fear. Conquering it.
Peter forced himself to sit up, his chest still heaving. "Stop fighting," he said through gritted teeth.
"What?!" Hook barked.
"Stop fearing them!" Peter shouted. "That's what she wants! We have to starve her!"
The shadow surged up his legs like smoke, crawling over his shoulders. He forced himself to breathe slower. The wolves blurred at the edges, their snarls growing faint.
Tink closed her eyes too, letting her light flare brighter, burning away her own terror.
Peter shouted the answer, his voice steady:
"Conquer over fear!"
The web above them vibrated violently, every strand glowing white. The wolves froze, their eyes going wide — then they shrank, their bodies unraveling into clouds of sand until they dissolved entirely.
Silence fell.
The witch's laughter rippled through the sky, low and cold."Interesting. Few can stare fear in the eye and walk away unbroken. Go, little flies. The next step will taste even sweeter to Nagini."
A glowing sigil burned itself into the deck — a spiral of webbing with a single eye at the center — before fading into ash.
The web dissolved, and the Jolly Roger drifted free again.
Peter sagged against the rail, his shadow still wrapped around him like a living cloak.
Tink landed near him, worry and awe flickering in her eyes. "Peter…"
He looked at her, breathing hard. "I think I'm starting to understand."
Hook turned from the wheel, his expression unreadable. "Good. You'd better — before whatever's waiting ahead eats us alive."