Page 17 of Wings of Reverie

“It’s going to be hard this year for the fast-flying fairies.” A nearby light-talent crossed her arms and sighed. “And now Periwinkle’s staying behind, too?” This time, Periwinkle jumped hearing her name.

“Periwinkle?” asked a winter-animal fairy farther off. “Periwinkle’s not coming to the Mainland?” Murmurs spread through Snowlight Square, eyes turning her way. Periwinkle bit her lip.

Gliss leaned close, blocking them all out with a hug. “We practiced everything together. It’s going to be so weird to go without you.” Periwinkle felt the same; it would be a strange winter without her friends. Gliss’s disappointed voice and the confused whispers spreading through the crowd pricked at her conscience.

She was doing this for them, Periwinkle reminded herself. Still, she ached a little.

Periwinkle hugged Gliss back tightly, doing the same to Spike. Sled, Slush, and Fletcher watched her apprehensively, offering warnings and reminders to be careful.

“Remember, man.” Slush draped an arm over her shoulder. “Don’t fly near all that wind off Snow Globe Mountain. And don’t go near the Drift. No one knows what’s under that thing.”

“No problem. I’m planning to hang out a little closer to the Hall of Winter and the Pixie Dust Root and the bakery.” At least, shehopedthat was all her plans would involve. “You be careful, too, though,” she added.

Periwinkle wasn’t sure why. But her chest felt unexpectedly tight with worry for her friends.

Finally, the time came for the winter fairies to leave.

As the sun began to crest over the horizon, Lord Milori climbed into the saddle on his snowy owl’s back, standing tall and raising his voice. “To the air, winter fairies!” he called.

“To the air!” went up their excited reply. Light filled the sky and the winter fairies’ faces as Lord Milori began to send off each talent by name.

“Snowflake-talents!” he shouted. With a cheer, the snowflake fairies rose into the air alongside the owls, who carried baskets of the snowflakes they’d made.

“Light-talents!” More whoops and cries. The light-talent fairies flittered into the sky, the lightcatchers they’d made and their own fairy glow sparkling.

“Fast-flying-talents!” A crisp wind cut through Snowlight Square as the fast-fliers took to the air.

But no one had to ask why there were no cheers as the fast-flying fairies joined the winter fairies’ ranks in the sky. Not when they were missing one of their own.

Icicle-talents, animal-talents, glacier-talents—group by group, they flew into the air. Periwinkle hugged Gliss and Spike tighter than she meant to when Lord Milori called for the frost-talents.

When the sky was full, the winter fairies pointed themselves toward the Never Sea and the second star to the right. Fairy wings and fairy glow and motes of pixie dust filled the air, trailing behind them as row by row they flew away over sparkling forests and meadows and mountains. Periwinkle waved after her friends until she couldn’t see them anymore.

And then they were gone. The fairies staying behind began trickling away in twos and threes to get their holiday started, and soon, there wasn’t much left in Snowlight Square except drifting owl feathers and faint glints of pixie dust.

Periwinkle had just turned toward Lattice’s Bakery when Lord Milori’s voice cut across the square. “Periwinkle?”

Surprised, she turned to face him. “Lord Milori?” she asked. “I thought you’d gone.”

“I’ll be after them in hardly a moment,” he said, intelligent eyes searching her face. “Are you sure everything’s all right, Periwinkle? There isn’t anything else you wish to tell me?” Periwinkle’s hands stole behind her back, like Dewey had caught her taking a book from the hall without properly checking it out.

“Of course not,” she said. “I’m disappointed not to be going.”True.“A little uncertain what I’m going to do with myself while everyone’s gone.”Partly true.“But that’s it.”Not true at all.“Is there anything you want to tell me?” she added impulsively, frosting on a large, false smile.

Because of course everything wasn’t all right. Of course there were things she wanted to say. She was worried about the Pixie Dust Root and about her friends going to the Mainland without her. She didn’t understand why Lord Milori wasn’t opening up about the damage the nightmare magic could do, and she was desperate not to slip up and give away her own secrets.

And if she was being honest with herself, she was a little—just a little—excited to begin her search with Weaver.

Lord Milori raised one eyebrow. “Of course not,” he said. Periwinkle wondered if he’d intended to echo her own words back to her. If his response covered up a whole head full of thoughts that he—like she—had absolutely no intention of sharing.

He kept his eyes on Periwinkle as he retreated and climbed onto his snowy owl’s back again. “I’ll oversee the nature-talents’ crossingand return before long,” he said, smoothing the owl’s feathers and looking thoughtful. “We’ll speak then.”

Can’t wait, Periwinkle didn’t say.

Then his owl launched herself into the air, wings beating gracefully as she shot toward the horizon. Soon, Lord Milori was out of sight. But he wouldn’t be gone for long.

“Having second thoughts?” came Weaver’s voice in her ear.

Periwinkle jumped. “Is there some reason you prefer to open conversations by startling me?” she asked. “And no, of course not.”