Chapter Text
Sitting by the window, Marceline looked out onto the shadow of the jungle below as she sipped her mugwort tea. The door creaked open behind her as the smell of sea air wafted past her.
“What news from the Lagoon, Esther?” Marceline inquired, turning to look at the girl behind her. She wore brown leather armor on her torso and shoulders, over the half-torn chemise underneath Esther used as a shirt. Two bone-carved swords hung off of her hips as hollowed-out vertebrae held her thick, dark hair atop her head.
“Pan’s patsies have arrived on the island, Greg and Tamara,” Esther replied. “They brought the boy with them.”
Marceline placed her cup down and stood, walking over to the dark-haired girl. “If you know so much, then why is he not here?”
“Felix and some of the older boys shot Tamara and are in pursuit of her captive. The Shadow tore Greg’s shadow from him,” Esther scowled. “Unfortunately, Pan already had the boy before we could even take a step.”
“It’s alright,” Marceline breathed, staring back out into the jungle. “If what I saw about that boy was true, then Pan will have his work cut out for him.”
“Marce?”
“In order for Peter to get what he wants, he has to get Henry to believe in him,” Marceline grinned. “And so… we’ll do whatever we can to keep that from happening. The board is set. Now let’s end this war once and for all.”
“There’s something else,” Esther added. “Henry’s family, they’re here on the island.”
“Oh? That was quick…”
“Hook has also returned. No doubt he’d try and use us to hide from Pan…”
“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” Marceline smiled. “After all, we are making promising advancements in our new… endeavor.”
“Shall I take them to the Lagoon Outpost?”
“Yes,” Marceline answered, staring at the glimmer of the clear night sky in the distance. “Yes, I think so.”
***
Hook walked behind the rest of the group, as Emma guided their way in the jungle thanks to a map that she recieved from Pan. He watched the party ahead of him with curiosity. Regina, the Evil Queen, and Emma Swan, the Savior destined to defeat the Queen’s curse, trekked alongside each other all for the sake of the son they both shared. As he pushed damp leaves away from his face, Hook had to admit that the most surprising part of this entire trip was the fact that Snow White and Prince Charming, known as Mary-Margaret Blanchard and David in Storybrooke, were willing to work with a self-serving pirate in order to help save their grandson. Hook shook his head slightly as the fact that Snow and Charming were Emma’s parents despite looking exactly the same age as her hadn’t completely set in yet.
“Is this really the best way to get to Henry?” Regina snapped, slapping wet leaves out of her way. “And where are we even going on this nature hike?”
Entering a small clearing, Hook turned to the group and said, “Now that we’re closeby there are a couple things we can do.”
“And what’s that?” Emma inquired.
“Well, in about a mile, we’d pass one of the Outposts.”
“Outpost belonging to…”
“The Lost Girls,” Hook sighed. “They’re not in league with Pan. Haven’t been for quite some time. Over there we’d get good food, shelter, and most importantly—protection from Pan and possibly the means to find Henry. Of course, we can always go up to the cliff summit and try to locate Pan’s camp from above. I’ll let you decide.”
“Well, I vote for the cliff,” Regina said. “If I can see where the camp is, I can just poof us in, get Henry, and poof us out.”
“One problem with that, love,” Hook remarked with a grimace. “Pan will have protections against magic and I can assure you, you don’t want to see what that entails.”
Regina rolled her eyes, but fell silent anyways. Emma spoke up next. “Maybe we try the Lost Girls… after all, having a safe place to rest and recuperate would be good for keeping us focused on Henry. And besides, Hook says that they may have a way to get him.”
“I said find , Swan, not get . Two very different sentiments…”
“You don’t think the girls can get Henry?” Snow inquired.
“Pan’s powerful, the most treacherous villain I’ve ever faced,” Hook grimaced. “He’s a demon in a boy’s body.”
“Good to know,” Emma answered. “Still, I think the Lost Girls are the best chance.”
“Yes, but will they help us?” Regina snapped. “For all we know, they’re terrified of Pan and will turn us over to him the first chance they get!”
Hook let out a mirthless chuckle. “Oh I assure you, those girls are not fearful of Pan in the slightest.”
“Oh?” David asked. “How’s that?”
“You’ve seen Lost Boys,” Hook began, recalling the small scuffle they had with them.
“Yeah, pointy sticks and Dreamshade poison,” Regina sighed.
“The Lost Girls are much worse,” Hook continued ominously. “Ever since their leader and Pan split, they’ve turned into a mobilized force that has been whittling the Boy’s numbers down for centuries. In fact, I think this is the smallest amount of Lost Boys I’ve seen in all my time at Neverland.”
“How many were there when you were here last?” Emma inquired.
“I don’t know, I’d say around twenty or twenty five,” Hook shrugged. “Now? I only counted nine, including Pan.”
“Jesus…” David muttered.
“Well we don’t know if it’s the Girls, right?” Snow questioned. “There could have been an unfortunate Dreamshade incident or a few infections. Maybe a boy with cholera or something came to the island and caused an epidemic.”
“Oh yes, because Pan is going to let a diseased child onto his isolated island,” Regina scoffed.
“Unfortunately, none of those would be a plausible answer,” Hook answered. “The Lost Boys and Pan have been working with Dreamshade too long to have a freak accident. Time stops on Neverland, so infections never spread and the Queen was correct in her observation.”
“So you’re saying it was those Lost Girls that killed eleven to sixteen Lost Boys?” David questioned.
“Precisely. Those girls are a force to be reckoned with. They’ve been fighting a war with Pan for centuries and from the looks of it… they’re winning.”
“Question still stands, though,” Snow shrugged.
“If we can stay away from Pan, then I think we should go to the girls,” David said. “It would be much easier for us to get Henry without worrying about Pan’s mind games and Lost Boys shooting at us.”
“Looks like we’re heading to Mermaid Lagoon then,” Hook declared.
***
Esther walked along the wall of the fortress, bone swords swinging from her hips as she watched a group approach the gate. The torchlight wasn’t enough to distinguish their faces, but the glint of rounded metal on the end of one of their arms was enough to make her smirk.
“So, how do we get in?” the other man besides Hook asked.
“We knock and pray they don’t kill us,” Hook answered with a grimace in his tone.
“What?” the blond woman yelped. “What do you mean by that?”
“It’s just… I’ve remembered that I had a bad run-in with one of them,” Hook sighed. “The leader of this Outpost.”
“What about her?”
Esther stood with a smirk and said, “Hook broke a promise and tried to double cross me, but I got away with most of the fruits of his labors.”
The group stared up at her.
With chagrin, Hook greeted, “Ah… hello Esther. How long have you been standing there exactly?”
“Long enough to say that the past is past,” Esther answered with a grin. “And I have no inclination to cause any of you harm.”
“We were hoping to find some shelter here,” Emma said. “Hook told us—“
“I know what the Captain told you and he was more than correct. Follow me.”
The gates scraped open as Esther jumped down from the wall. She flicked her fingers toward the front, beckoning them to follow her. As the gate closed, green runes glowed along the walls. Making eye contact with one of the guards, they nodded at each other before Esther retreated into a stairwell, lit only by the embers of the torches.
Emma stared as they walked along, barely being able to make out a ventilation system in the dim light. There were mechanisms along the walls and mismatched stone tiles below her feet. Once Esther opened the door at the bottom of the staircase, Emma had to shield her eyes from the brightness on the other side of the threshold.
When her eyes adjusted, Emma could feel her breath being taken at the sight. The walls were lined with glowing white crystals, some hung from the ceiling in ornate light fixtures with black metal adornments of thorny vines and wicked flowers. Crystal columns were hewn out of the luminescent white stone, depicting different scenes of women from every bygone era. Emma didn’t know who any of these women were, but in the white crystal, they were the most majestic beings she had ever laid eyes on. Some of them were nurturing, holding and consoling children or friends, and others were clad in armor or uniform with a weapon in their hand, standing over skulls and staring down at Emma with an expression that was stern, but fierce, like a predator stalking their prey. The strange thing about the women was that Emma didn’t feel threatened while staring up at them on their pedestal of bone. She felt protected. She felt seen. She felt like she belonged.
Esther’s voice pulled her out of her trance. “Marceline requests an audience with you. Follow me.”
Emma began to walk with the rest of her group, unable to take her eyes off of the crystal woman until she was side by side with Hook. He stared at her, eyebrow quirked, as she marveled at her surroundings.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” he piped.
“Yeah,” Emma answered absentmindedly, still staring at the faces of the women. “Were these statues always here?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been this deep into Lost Girl territory.”
“Really? After all those years on this island?”
“I used to work for Pan,” Hook grumbled. “If I ever were to be down here, then I wouldn’t be walking alongside you right now.”
“So these girls… they really are amazing,” Emma breathed. “I mean, look at what they’ve built!”
“Aye,” he nodded in agreement. “I’d heard tales of the splendor of Mermaid Lagoon, but when I got there on the surface I scoffed and thought they were just tall tales. Now I know that those seafarer-tavern stories spoke of what was under the Lagoon.”
“You mean we’re underwater?”
“I genuinely have no idea.”
“Did you see those vents back on the stairwell? The stone tiles?” she inquired, tearing her eyes away from the statues as she walked ahead of them.
“Aye, I did,” Hook sighed. “In some of Pan’s attempted invasions, his forces would find the stairwell and begin to descend. Only the doors would seal shut, creating an airtight cage, and the vents would pump airborne Dreamshade into the air. Stepping on the wrong tiles activates the trap.”
“Yikes, that’s brutal,” Emma winced. “Clever as hell, but… brutal .”
“It’s much more than brutal when the doors open again and you discover half your crew lying dead on the stairs, skin webbed with black, cheeks stained with tar-like tears, and dark foam in their mouths,” Hook said with a scowl.
“Holy shit,” Emma breathed. “I’m sorry about your crew. It must be hard to come back here, considering that these girls killed your friends.”
“Nothing to worry about, love,” Hook grimaced. “It’s not them that killed my crew. Not really.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Pan’s the one who ordered me and my crew to invade first,” Hook snarled. “To sniff out any traps so his boys don’t die. Joke’s on that demon boy because we missed every other trap and the Lost Boys got slaughtered.”
“It’s kind of hard to believe that a group of teenage girls created this whole underground city,” Emma mused.
“You’d be surprised,” Hook chuckled. “When Pan began to bring girls to the island, he thought that they’d take care of his Lost Boys. But, oh was he mistaken…”
“Girls do it right.”
“I can drink to that.”
***
Marceline sat at the edge of the camp, staring into the flames as the Lost Boys danced around the fire. The girls were tidying up on the outskirts, restocking firewood or hanging laundry. Her eyes flicked up to the girls speaking, mouths twisted into scowls as they surveyed the Boys. Out of the ruckus of hooting and hollering, pan pipes and drums, Marceline could barely make out one of them suggest dumping the clothes over the cliffside and forcing the boys to go about their day, bare and cold. She cracked a smirk at that.
Just as she was about to zone out again, a loud yelp rang from behind her. Marceline turned to see one of the older boys in his teens, who she knew as Flint, messily kiss Myrtle, one of her girls. Rage consumed her as she watched Flint hands roam and Myrtle struggle in his grip. Marceline swiftly took up one of her bone daggers and threw it at Flint, half of the blade sticking out of his wrist.
He let out a shriek of agony as he held his wrist, body bent over the wound. Marceline kept her eye on him as she walked over to Myrtle, placing a tender hand on her shoulder.
“Are you alright?” she asked her.
“I’m fine,” Myrtle breathed. “Just…”
Marceline locked eyes with Katherine at the other end of camp and nodded toward Myrtle. The other Lost Boys stared at Marceline and Flint, including Pan and Felix who began to make their way over. As Katherine gently took Myrtle away into the jungle, Marceline turned to Flint.
“What the hell was that?” Flint spat.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Marceline said evenly, despite her darkened eyes baring into Flint’s.
“What? Me and Margaret? It was just a bit of fun.”
“It didn’t look like… Margaret was having fun.”
“She would have liked it eventually,” Flint shrugged.
“What’s her name?”
“Who? Margaret’s?”
“Her name is not Margaret,” Marceline snapped. “Her name is Myrtle.”
“So?” he scoffed.
Seething, she approached him, somewhat delighting at his increasingly uncertain expression. Locking eyes with him, she grabbed the hilt of the dagger and pulled it out of his wrist, watching him yell out and recoil again with a steely expression.
Crouching down to his level, she grabbed his neck and tilted his eyes up to meet hers. As her shadowy hazel eyes met his, in a piercing voice cold with anger, she said, “Let me make this perfectly clear: The next time you lay a hand on any of my girls will be the last time you have hands.”
“What about a finger?” Flint chuckled.
She gave him a sweet smile and a chuckle before she pulled his hand out in front of him and sliced off his index finger with one fell swoop. Once more, he screamed and cried, holding his hand.
Picking up the severed appendage, Marceline held it in front of him and answered with a wicked grin, “I think you know the answer to that.”
Standing up, she turned. Peter stared at her with an unreadable expression, she kept his gaze for a few moments before walking off into the jungle with the bloody finger in hand.
Felix approached Pan and said, “What should I do? Follow her and kill her?”
“No,” Peter replied evenly, standing and entering the thick of the trees. “I’ll talk to her.”
Marceline continued walking, scoffing at Peter’s response to Felix. Looking up at Dead Man’s Peak, she noticed the glow of a fire and proceeded to scale the rocks. Instead of seeing Katherine and Myrtle sitting around the flames, talking quietly amongst themselves in one of the languages Marceline taught them, it was Peter Pan staring up at her.
Even though she felt caught and cornered, Marceline met his gaze and straightened her back, being sure to project strength. They stared at each other for a few moments, the flames reflecting in his unusually bright green eyes, before Pan broke the silence.
“Sit.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
Despite having thirty different comebacks, Marceline opted to sigh and sit on the other side of the fire.
“So?” she asked. “What is it this time?”
“Oh I thought it was rather obvious considering you mutilated Flint.”
“Is that his name? I thought it was Slightly.”
“Don’t jest.”
“I thought you loved a bit of fun.”
“We all do,” Pan answered. “So, why didn’t you let Flint have his?”
“Because Myrtle wasn’t having fun with him.”
“So?”
Marceline’s eyes lit with rage as she quickly kicked the burning firewood toward Pan, watching in amusement as he jumped up and patted a growing flame out of his trousers.
“That was fun,” she smiled brightly. “Let’s do it again.”
Glaring down at her, Pan extinguished the fire with his magic, leaving only the moonglow to light their faces. He cracked a soft chuckle as he stepped over the embers and knelt down in front of her, faces barely kept from touching.
“Now now, Marcy-bird,” he said smoothly, taking Marceline’s hands into his own. Planting an uncharacteristically gentle kiss on her lips, he asked, “What’s got you all worked up?”
She glared up at him, practically seething as he sat and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her and resting his head on her shoulder.
“Remind me, Peter,” Marceline began. “Why do children come to Neverland in the first place?”
“Because they feel unloved, lost… burdened by responsibilities they shouldn’t have.”
“And what would you describe as a woman’s responsibility?”
Peter paused for a moment before answering, “Well, a woman’s responsibility is to her children and to her family, maintaining the home and supporting her partner.”
“And what exactly have you had all the girls do since they arrived?”
“Well, I put them under your charge.”
“And what have you had me do since I arrived?”
“Be a mother to my boys,” Peter answered. “And what a wonderful mother you’ve been…”
Marceline broke out of his grip and stood at the edge of the peak, looking out onto the stars, the second star to the right. Taking a deep breath, she replied as evenly as she could, “I could be a mother back there. Back home .”
“I suppose…”
She turned to look at him, staring down with an austere gaze. “I didn’t come to this island to be a mother nor a woman. I came here to be a girl. The Lost Girls came to Neverland to be girls . The Lost Boys can be boys, why don’t we have that luxury?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh please, you are not nearly that stupid,” she snapped. “You protect the boys, you let the boys go out on adventures, compete with each other in deadly combat over trivial matters… but the girls? You very clearly don’t give a shit.”
“Who said that I don’t? Of course I do!” Pan retorted ardently, getting to his feet.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Marceline sneered, turning back to the stars. “After all you are more… action centric.”
“Come on Marcy-bird, talk to me.”
Unable to keep the rage from boiling over, she whipped back around and roared, “Don’t fucking call me that! Don’t pretend to care when you don’t!”
“I do care.”
“Bull shit ,” she snarled. “I saw you when Flint pulled Myrtle against that tree. You knew she didn’t want it and yet you stood by! You don’t protect them, I do! You and your boys don’t provide for them, offer them anything, I do! I taught the girls different languages, we created some of our own. Hell we even made a code system because of your boys . You say they’re your Lost Girls… they’re not. They’re mine . I love them like my own. I care for them like my own. And I will do anything to defend them against men.”
“What do you want?” Peter asked calmly. “What’s the point in telling me this? Do you want me to protect them?”
“No, because you’ve clearly demonstrated that you’re incapable,” Marceline snapped. “I want you and the Lost Boys to stop treating them like mothers, like maids, like ladies of the night. I want you and the Lost Boys to treat them as they are one of you. The girls will go on whatever adventures and participate in whatever games they wish. Food preparation and cleaning will be co-ed activities. You and the Lost Boys will treat them with respect or suffer the consequences.”
Pan’s eyes sharpened at her last threat. “Consequences? And what kind of consequences are you planning for them… or for me ? Hm?”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” she grinned. “So long as you and the Boys adhere to my terms.”
Pan scoffed. “You don’t have anything do you?”
Marceline turned to face him and said with a smile. “I’ll make what I did to Flint tonight look like child’s play.”
“Understood, ma’am.”
“That’s more like it.”
***
Esther led Hook, Emma, and the rest of their group up another set of stairs, spiraling up into a stony abyss. Emma stared at the dark walls, seeing the same vents that were at the entrance. Stopping in an empty foyer, Esther stepped toward the wooden doors and knocked rhythmically.
The group watched in awe as the door glowed green, the viridescent light collecting into protective sigils on the door before it dripped down into the brass lock and disappeared with a click. Esther pushed open the door and walked in. Emma and the others followed the girl inside, jumping slightly when the door slammed shut with another click, locking them in.
Eyes traveling the room, Emma’s breath once again left her lungs. A four poster bed sat on the wall, dressed in cotton sheets and an embroidered duvet. Herbs grew in a small garden bed by one of the windows. Tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of peace and war. One in particular caught her eye. A beautiful blonde woman stood in front of a bountiful orchard and stared ahead with soulful blue eyes, crying golden tears dripping down and creating golden armor on her body. Ladybugs flew over her head as cats and rabbits sat at her feet. She held a loom, weaving on its own, in one hand and a sword in the other. The small table in front of the tapestry held burning pink and yellow candles, glistening gems set in gold, a vase of primrose, and a small bowl of sweet mead.
“Ah,” Hook breathed, staring at the altar. “So that’s where Smee’s amber necklace went.”
While Emma was preoccupied with the tapestries and the altar, Regina found herself drawn to the filled bookcases and messy desk with papers strewn across the wood. Leafing through the books and perusing the surprisingly organized notes and logs on the desk, Regina noticed a small workbench in the corner. It was tucked away, but still being used. Dreamshade bubbled in glass containers over a flame as the fumes were channeled into a golden liquid.
Snow gravitated toward the small closet that opened to be a fully functional restroom. Stepping into the room, Snow’s eyes stared at the well-kept bathtub with soaps and salts on the table next to it. She traversed deeper and looked at the oil-powered lamp above the vanity, lighting the room dimly. A hairbrush, some cosmetics, and perfumes laid out neatly on the dark wood. Turning and leaving the small room, Snow noticed a violin and a lute leaning on the wall.
As Snow picked up the instruments and plucked them, David walked over to the armory wall. Dozens of carved bone swords and daggers hung from the walls, including a wooden recurve bow and arrows varying in arrowhead type and thickness. A few metal pistols and rifles lined the wall, most likely collected from the pirates or more of Pan’s patsies like Greg and Tamara.
They all jumped as the door burst open, turning to find a girl appearing no older than sixteen. Her light brown mane fell over her shoulders wildly as kind hazel eyes stared at them. The girl wore a dress from faded scraps of pink, purple, and blue fabrics, held together by a brown leather bodice worn from general wear and tear over the years. She held a tray with six plates of bread and chowder, along with spoons and forks—some wood and some metal.
“Hello all,” the girl said with a smile. “Apologies for my tardiness, I was just grabbing us some dinner. Hope you like chowder.”
She walked into the room and placed the tray on her desk before opening a compartment in the walls and pulling out a large foldable wooden table, dragging it to the middle of the room and setting it up. They watched in confusion as she placed the plates on the table along with a kettle of hot water and jars of leaves in the center.
“Who are you?” Snow inquired.
“Oh! I must have forgotten to introduce myself,” chuckled the girl. “My name is Marceline, I’m the leader of the Lost Girls. You must be Snow White.”
“Uhm, yeah that’s me,” Snow answered. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Pleasure is all mine,” Marceline smiled. “Come on and eat, you must be starving!”
Hook and Snow shrugged and sat down, earning a few disbelieving gazes from their companions.
“What?” Snow scoffed. “It’s better than dried pork rations from Hook’s ship.”
“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Hook sighed, shoveling a spoonful into his mouth. “She won’t try to poison you. Me? Maybe, but not any of you.”
“It’s actually quite good,” Snow smiled. “Reminds me of home.”
Emma, Regina, and David stared at each other before tentatively taking their own seats.
“Esther said you requested to see us,” Hook began, pouring rum into one of the wooden teacups. “Any particular reason?”
“Yes, actually,” Marceline answered. “For starters, I know why you are here and I know where Henry is being kept.”
“What?” Emma breathed. “Really?”
“Yes, Pan’s camp. We have someone on the inside, but we don’t have a way in. I’d hate for him to blow his cover and get slaughtered.”
“Do we know where Pan’s camp is?” David asked.
Emma pulled the map out of her pocket, but just as soon as she opened it, Marceline rushed over to her and threw the map into the fire.
“What the hell was that for?” Emma roared.
“Bringing Pan’s magic into the compound?” Marceline snapped before turning to Hook. “Do you have any idea what that could do?”
“Apologies, milady,” Hook mumbled between sips of his rum. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on Neverland, I’d forgotten.”
“Well then, I guess we just have to hope that Pan didn’t worm his way past our defenses.”
“What do you mean by that?” scoffed Regina.
“A little while ago, we ran into a problem,” Marceline began. “Pan was able to get past our defenses and so we tried everything, reinforcing the sigils and even extending the barrier. But, when we figured out the leak was actually bringing in objects enchanted by Pan’s magic, it’s been a heavily-enforced rule to keep him out of our Outposts.”
“And now we have no way to find Henry!”
“You weren’t going to find him in the first place,” Marceline scoffed. “If you think Pan’s giving you an advantage, he’s not. He’s just playing mind games. Chances are, he’s moving the camp magically every hour to keep you from finding it. And besides, we know where the camp is.”
“You do?” David asked.
“I do,” Marceline answered. “As I said, we have someone on the inside. However, we still need someone to get you inside.”
“And who would that be?” Emma inquired.
“Tinkerbell,” Marceline and Hook answered simultaneously.
“Pan and Tink have had a relatively good relationship over the centuries,” Marceline began. “I offered her a place among my girls, but she opted to back the strongest horse. In any case, you’d need to convince her to help you or else, I cannot help you.”
“So we just need to get to Tink?” David asked.
“Is there anyone else?” Regina inquired. “I mean, can’t your man—woman?—man… whatever—on the inside get us in?”
“Well considering the fact that you’ll leave as soon as you get your son, Pan will kill him the first chance he gets. And if Pan isn’t there, then Felix will.”
“Who’s Felix?”
“Pan’s second-in-command,” Hook explained. “Pan’s oldest and most loyal Lost Boy.”
“I think your friend can handle a boy with a pointy stick.”
“No, no he can’t,” Hook sighed. “The sticks are dipped in Dreamshade poison. Not to mention that Felix is the most physically capable of all the Lost Boys and has seen the most combat.”
“Very true,” Marceline agreed gravely. “Listen, my girls and I have been working on a poison in secret. It’s has the capacity to incapacitate and kill Pan in less than a minute. If you give us the right chance, then my girls and I will be able to put an end to him at last.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Emma inquired.
“For now, eat up and rest up,” Marceline smiled. “Tomorrow, you’re heading out to Tinkerbell’s treehouse. Be sure to turn on the charm and don’t mention the fact that she’s lost her wings.”
Emma stared down at the creamy chowder below her and shrugged. “Sounds good.”