Help her," Peter pleaded. "Do something. You have ways. Your potions. Your medicines. Do something.

The boy planted his hands on his hips and a broad smile lit his face. "My name's Peter. Can I play too?

Had not enough gone wrong?

Almost lost you," he thought, surprised to find himself blinking back tears. "Been through too much, me and you. We're going to finish this thing together.

Peter's face clouded. "Everything comes at a price. Or have you not learned that yet?

Don't let them win. Don't let them beat you. Don't let them steal your magic.

Peter stood, cleared his throat, and began to hum softly, then sing, slowly building up the song as his voice cleared. He found the old tune, the song of the Sunbird. And as he sung, as his rich voice echoed off the tall cliffs, the birds and the faeries lent him their voice and soon the tune drifted throughtout the garden.

Peter," she whispered and reached out, touching his cheek. "My little Peterbird? You flew back to me.

When Peter sets his mind to a thing," Tanngnost thought, "far be it from reason to stop him.