For Peter's smile is a most contagious thing.

But Peter had seen too much, knew too well that men-kind didn't need an excuse to be cruel and murder one another.

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

Did he dare trust this insane boy?

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

Your dreams are your spirit, your soul and without them your are dead. You must guard your dreams always. Always. Lest someone steal them away from you. I know what it is to have your dreams stolen. I know what it is to be dead. Guard your dreams. Always guard your dreams.

Enough talk," Peter said, and his eyes flashed. "It's time to turn you three into killers.