Young boys danced wildly around the campsite. The animal mask hid the savageness in their adolescent face. They swung their weapons dangerously, causing Henry to flinch as another axe came too close to his head.

Henry peered nervously into the dark jungle where the light of the scorching fire did not reach. The darkness sent a chill down his spine. Now that he knew Neverland was not at all what he expected, he didn't feel safe venturing into the dark. Not that he could since Pan was keeping an eye on him.

He believed that his family would find him, he just wish they find him sooner. The island was giving him the creeps and the boys here held a deranged madness in their eyes that Henry has never seen before.

They swung their sticks at him again causing the boy to fall back ungracefully. The lost boys laughed at his cowardliness.

Henry frown, his body shook from fear.

A loud warning call from Pan cause the boys to pull back.

From the other side of the camp, he saw the leader of the Lost Boys. Peter Pan stood in all his demonic glory watching the scene with cool calculated eyes. He made no efforts to help henry further.

As soon as the boys left Henry alone, he felt a tingling touch on his index finger.

He thought the small touch came from some bug or insect so when he pulled his hand back he was surprise to feel something latched onto his finger.

Henry blinked, as he brought the object attached to his hand closer to his face he noticed it was something white with a billowy...skirt?

He nearly screamed when the thing peered at him with bright blue eyes framed by dark lashes.

"Don't be alarm", a voice resonate in his ears. Henry stiffened. He looked around him for the source of the voice but didn't see anyone near him.

The voice was delicate and feminine. He wondered if it came from the small girl who had climbed on and was now currently sitting in the palm of his hand.

"Yes it was me." The voice answered the question in his head.

Although the girl claim to be speaking to him, she did not once open her mouth. She gave him an ethereal smile and he realized what an unearthly beauty she was.

She was most likely a fairy. He couldn't see her wings though but she was small like a fairy; the size of his hand. She also had a strange translucent white glow coming from her. He looked up to see if the other boys noticed her but he found they were too busy dancing around the bonfire.

"Are you Tinkerbell?" he asked.

Since they were in Neverland he had expected to see a blond fairy with Pan. Even though this girl had dark brown hair, she was the only girl he saw in Neverland, and she was too small to be Wendy.

The girl shook her head, "No. My name is Giselle. But you can call me Elle for short."

"Hi Elle. I'm Henry..."

"I know," she smiled. "it's rather unfortunate that you got caught by Pan's Lost boys."

"He tricked me." He told her. "If you don't mind me asking, are you a fairy?"

Elle shook her head again.

"No", he heard. "I'm more of a spirit."

"Like a ghost."

She laughed, though no noise came from her lips nor could he near the sound in his head.

The small girl leaned back on Henry's hand while her legs swung carelessly. Her white gown floated gracefully around her pale legs.

"So you're not a ghost?" he asked,

"This form is a projection."

He looked at her curiously. She didn't answer so he asked the next question in his mind. "What are you doing in Neverland, Elle?"

"My body is here," she answered simply.

Henry turn to the camp as if by looking he'll find her body seated somewhere. "Your body is in Neverland," he faced her again. "What happen? Why are you out of your body?"

Henry watched as her doll like features turn stern. Her voice became less whimsical as she told him, "I need your help Henry."

"What is it?" he crouched over her.

"Henry."

The young boy shot up from his seat on the floor.

"What do you have there?"

"I," Henry started but pause when he noticed that Elle wasn't in his hand anymore.

Peter raised an eyebrow as he observe the confuse boy. His signature smirk was replaced by a deep frown.

"What were you doing?" His tone became hard.

"Nothing."

"Who were you talking to?"

"No one," Henry answered. He didn't know why but he decided to keep Elle a secret from Peter.

Peter didn't look convince. He glared at the younger boy with dark evil eyes.

Henry flinched from the scrutiny.

As if suddenly realizing what he was doing, the darkness instantly vanished from Peter's face. "Well don't just sit there talking to yourself. You should join the festivity," he spoke in a friendlier tone.

Henry had no intention of joining the other boys in their rough-housing; nonetheless he nodded his head and watched as Pan went back to his post.

When he was certain Pan wasn't looking at Henry anymore, he turn to look for Elle.

But she was no where to be found.

"What's wrong Peter?" Felix asked when he found his leader twiddling restlessly with his pipes.

"Henry is acting strange."

"That's not something that would usually bother you."

"No," Pan stated, "It isn't... He was talking to someone. Someone who isn't there."

"You didn't sense anyone with him?"

Pan didn't respond.

"It could be that he's just loony," Felix suggested.

Pan scoff, "Or someone with magic is contacting him."

"You think its the evil queen, or Rumplestiltskin?"

"I doubt it. Not without me knowing."

"Then who?"

Without warning, Pan got up from his seat on the tree trunk. His face held an excitement Felix haven't seen in years.

"Keep the boys in check for me. There's something I need to look into."

In the blink of an eye, Peter disappeared.

Henry was relieve to see that the scariest of the boys left. He wasn't sure why but Pan appeared especially short temper when he thought Henry was talking to someone. He wondered if Pan was paranoid that he was scheming an escape plan.

"Pan isn't worry that you'll escape." A voice spoke. "He controls the island. He won't let you get far."

"Elle," Henry spoke. He searched for her and was surprise to see her perched on his shoulder. "How do you do that? You heard my thoughts."

"Considering that I'm speaking to you through your mind, reading it is the least I can do."

"You can do magic. Can you help me?"

"I'm afraid I cannot, " Giselle sounded regretful, "Pan is too powerful to go against."

Henry nodded. The other lost boy told him something similar. "You said you needed my help?"

"That's right Henry."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I need you to not give in to Pan."

"I was already planning not to."

"Easier said then done. But I like the confidence."

He looked at her smaller form and found her smiling contently at him.

Peter teleported himself to Mount Neverpeak. It was by far the stormiest part of Neverland. Traveling there was dangerous for anyone but him. He had made sure that the hostile climate would steer away any intruder. The lost boys were already told that Neverpeak was off-limits, but Peter still put up the extra barrier.

He went into an ice cave obscured by the mountain's already abundance of snow and icicle. The cave was more like a hall with smooth floors and high ceiling. It led straight to a memorial where a beautiful girl stood entrapped in a block of ice.

It was a curse. The impenetrable ice magic that could not be melted. Only magic, strong magic can break the curse. And Peter was going to be the one to do it.

He placed a hand against the ice block. It was cool but no where near the freezing temperature of normal snow. Peter let out a ragged breath while pressing his forehead against the coolness.

Her body was only a few mere inches away from his. He can see her soft milky flesh from his side of the barrier. He wanted so badly to touch her.

By standing so near her prison, he can feel the pulse of her magic. He relish in the feeling of something belonging to her.

"If you're going to use your magic to contact someone, then it should be me. After all, I'm the one who's going to save you," he spoke to the slumbering girl.

She had the most beautiful blue eyes he's ever seen. It was too bad that her eyes have been closed for a hundred years now.

"You can at least acknowledge the fact that I'm dying to see you."

His blunt nails scratched at the ice block, leaving not so much as a white streak.

"Or that I'll kill to see you," he chuckled darkly. He leaned against her, trying to close the distance between them. His eyes drifted from her dark lashes to her rosy lips. Trailing down her slender neck to her delicate fingers.

In her cold unmoving hand was a small white globe clutched against her breast.

Peter eyed the object with distaste. "You should let me talk to you, even for just a second," he snarled, his temper flared, "So I would know that you care for me too!"