Page 12 of Wings of Reverie

“He knows,” Weaver said.

Periwinkle stopped short. She turned. “What?”

But Weaver didn’t answer. He just looked at her, dark eyes significant.

She’d worried he might argue. She hadn’t expected him to say—that.

“Of course he doesn’t know,” she said. “If he knew, we would all know.”

“Would we?” Weaver cocked his head. Something about his voice needled her.

Lord Milori was not the most forthright fairy in the Winter Woods.

I have much on my mind, he’d said to Dougal. Could he have meant this? This—thisrotin the Pixie Dust Root?

“I told you about the legend I found,” Weaver said. “About thedreams and the nightmares crossing the Never Sea. Lord Milori’s mentioned in the notes of that legend. He’s aware of this type of magic. Besides, do you think there are any secrets from him in the Winter Woods?” he asked. “Why he wouldn’t want to warn everyone about this now, I don’t know, but trust me, he knows it’s here.” Periwinkle wrung her hands.

Lord Milori had a good heart. But there was a reason she hadn’t opened up to him about her dreams.

She’d heard how stern he’d been with Dougal. She knew how strict he was about the winter fairies keeping away from the borders. Though never cruel, Lord Milori was decisive, and he wasn’t in the habit of explaining himself.

Periwinkle couldn’t deny that if they were in danger, he might not share that fact with the whole Winter Woods, especially given how focused everyone had been on preparing to take winter to the Mainland.

Winter.Jingles! “Weaver, I’m going to the Mainland tomorrow,” she said, flittering back down to the ground.

“But you can’t.” Weaver reached for her elbow, distressed. Periwinkle’s breath hitched at the brush of his callused fingertips, and he pulled away quickly. “You and I are the only ones who can do anything to help. And it has to happen soon—before it’s too late.”

“How?” Periwinkle had never felt more helpless in her life. But Weaver looked certain.

“The legend says that the dream-talents in Pixie Hollow hadspecial tools that let them spin dreams to protect the tree,” he began. “Magic spinning wheels that let them turn dreams into dream-thread. But as far as I know, they’re lost. I need you to help me find them so I can spin your dreams into thread like the dream-talents used to do. We can use it to heal the root.”

“You want to spin my dreams?” Periwinkle’sheadwas spinning.

Weaver nodded. “You’re the only other fairy in Pixie Hollow who dreams. And I can collect these”—he gestured to his pockets, where he’d put the pouches holding her dreams—“but I can’t spin them without the magic tools. I tried a regular knitting needle on my own dream once, when I managed to catch one before it disappeared, and the needle just slid through it. And anyway, you said it yourself. You find things.” Weaver hesitated, searching her face intently. “Maybe things findyou, too.”

He’d said it. What Periwinkle had been thinking all along.

The dreaming had found her. This was why.

She thought of the golden thread she’d clung to in her dream that night and wondered if it had led her right here. To Weaver, to the well. To save the Pixie Dust Root and the tree itself.

Still. “Can’t you do all this with your own dreams?”

Weaver grimaced, holding up his hands. His fingers were long and expressive, with large knuckles and short, clean nails. “Believe me, I’ve tried to collect them. But by the time I wake up, they’re usually too far away, or too misty for me to lay hands on.” He swallowed. “Please, Periwinkle. I can’t do this without you.”

There was a request in his voice. But there was more.

Promise.

Possibility.

Her wings fluttered, agitated, quick as a hummingbird’s.

The truth was, Periwinkle loved traveling to the Mainland. She wanted to use her talent, to help bring winter to the human world.

“I’ve already looked through the Hall of Winter for information on dreams,” she said quietly. “I haven’t found much of anything. But…”

But this was essential. Urgent. Pixie Hollow needed them. Because if the Pixie Dust Tree died, there would be no more pixie dust. Life in Pixie Hollow would never be the same.