Free Escaping Neverland by Lynn Wahl Page A

help?” I asked. I was curious
to know what the Fae could do for me and more curious to find out who had
melted off half the Queen’s face. I resigned myself to not figuring out the
answer to the second question.
    The Queen hissed out a breath at my unasked for
outburst but answered. “We have heard from William that you wish to rescue a
friend from the Captain. We can help you do so. Will you take our offer?”
    “Do you have an image of your face
before...uh...whatever happened happened?” I asked.
    The Queen’s face went red, really unattractive on
top of the scar tissue, and then paled again. “I do not know what you mean by a
picture.”
    I shrugged. “You know, like a painting or a
portrait? An image of your face? I need to know what you looked like before so
I can draw it back.”
    The Queen seemed confused, although to give her
credit, she was trying to hide it. “The ruined side of my face looked exactly
like the unruined side of my face. We do not have pictures. To capture your
image in a likeness is to capture your spirit.”
    I shot a glance at Lavender where she rested on
the stone bench and tried not to think of what might happen if the picture I’d
drawn of the tiny creature was ever destroyed. Then I thought of what the Queen
had said and looked at the other fae around the courtyard. I could see, now
that I was looking, what the Queen was talking about. Every single one of the
Fae, butterfly skin or not, possessed perfectly symmetrical features. Now that
I knew what it was, their perfection made my skin crawl. No human face was
absolutely perfect. If you were to fold someone’s face in on itself, there was
always something that wouldn’t line up, be it a sliver of jaw or a tiny corner
of eye. I felt a thrill of fear at the thought and debated turning down the
Queen’s offer. If I did a drawing of the Queen’s face and it was off, or wrong
by even a little bit, these people would know instantly and their sovereign
would stand out like a gazelle in the middle of a pride of lions. It wasn’t a
good image, and I didn’t want to imagine what would happen if I made that kind
of mistake.
    Despite those thoughts, my mouth opened and I said
“yes.” The Queen must have known what I’d say, because she didn’t look
surprised, but I wished I could have an out of body experience so I could
launch a big, strong kick at my own butt for being so stupid.
    The Queen motioned for the bench to be dragged
forward toward the throne and seated herself in the jeweled chair with quiet
grace. “You may begin,” she said.
    I looked around. “What. Now?”
    One of the guards stepped forward with a scowl,
but the Queen motioned him back. “You believe that I wish to remain even one
more moment wearing this hideous face? Complete the healing and we will feed
and clothe you before making plans for your friend. Refuse and I will have you
killed.”
    I swallowed hard and untied the knot in the old
shirt that held the tablet and the pencils. When a few of the fae leaned over
me to see what I was doing, I cleared my throat.
    “I...um...can’t do the healing with so many people
watching, your highness. It will distract me.” I crossed my fingers, not at all
willing to let so many guards see that I was basically capturing their Queen’s
spirit on a piece of paper.
    Like I’d said magic words, most of the observers
in the courtyard disappeared, and the Queen gestured for me to continue.
    I took a deep breath, and without allowing myself
to think about what I was doing, began drawing the healthy side of the Queen’s
face. The lines came quickly and without effort and I realized that symmetrical
faces, if weird, might actually be easier to create on paper than a face that
contained multiple, minute flaws. Still, the sun sank past the courtyard by
time I’d finished the top half of the Queen’s face. I was working on the jaw
line and lips when someone scurried over with a lantern and hung it over the
bench before