Page 22 of Wings of Reverie

But Weaver shook his head. “I don’t think that’s what happened.”

“Can we destroy the nightmares somehow?” she asked. “When we find the magic tools, after we’ve protected the tree with our dreams, will they be able to break the nightmares’ power?”

Weaver looked thoughtful. “I think so. We’ll be careful until we can test the theory.” Periwinkle nodded, turning back to her good dreams, their twinkling tangle of prism on her bedroom floor a new and beautiful and astounding kind of magic.

It was hard to believe it was the evidence of her last night’s dream, before it had gone sideways. That it had come right out of her thoughts.

Yet when Periwinkle looked at Weaver, she didn’t see its glow reflected on his face the way she knew it was on hers.

“What?” His expression became suddenly defensive.

“You don’t think it’s wonderful?” she asked. “I mean, look at it.”

“It’s a dream,” he said flatly. “It’s barely real.”

“Are the sunbows the light-talent fairies make real? Is the wind the fast-flying fairies make real?” Periwinkle gave an incredulous laugh. “How can you say that? It looks like a star!” Weaver just shrugged, totally unmoved. Periwinkle tucked her legs underneath her, narrowing her eyes.

“You’re a cynic,” she said, wonderingly. “I didn’t know we had any of those in Pixie Hollow.”

His voice was wry. “Well, at least I’m an original.”

“But how?” she demanded. “Weaver, we bring the humans their seasons. We live in the most beautiful corner of Never Land. We canfly.”

“So what?” he asked. “The humans are always figuring out how to do new things, and I hear you still can’t throw a snowball on the Mainland without hitting a cynic.”

“Incredible.” She shook her head. He was like no one she’d ever met before. “You think wonder can’t touch you. In a place like Pixie Hollow, you think there’s nothing left to shock or awe you.”

“Oh, there’s plenty to shock.”

“And awe,” she pushed.

“We’ll see about that.”

“Yes,” Periwinkle said significantly. “We will.”

Because as she sat staring at him, Periwinkle was beginning to wonder if there wasn’t a second, secret part of her quest, sent directly to her by the dream magic she’d found: to show Weaverthat Pixie Hollow was a beautiful place worthy of wonder. To change his mind, and crack open his cynicism, and make room for magic inside him.

Every fairy that arrived in Pixie Hollow had a purpose. As irritating as Weaver liked to make himself, he was the first dream-talent to come to the Winter Woods in who knew how long.

Weaver was here for a reason. Periwinkle wanted to find out what it was.

Out through her room’s skylight, Periwinkle could hear music fairies playing on lutes and pipes, probably the sounds of a party starting up. But after the day—and the night—she’d had, she already wanted to lie down.

“Are you ready?” she asked Weaver, fighting a yawn. “Or did you want me to stay awake so we could talk some more?”

Weaver smirked. “You and I don’t have much in common, Sparkles. We shouldn’t use up all our conversation in one night. Besides, I don’t want to be nodding off at the Hall of Winter tomorrow morning while we’re doing research.”

“Look, if you’re boring, just say that.” Periwinkle yawned again as she turned off the lightcatchers, then lay down and pulled her blanket up to her chin. “I can talk to anyone.”

“You know,” he said, “I’m only now beginning to understand how true that is.”

Weaver was making fun of her, she knew; the stars outside were just bright enough to show the wry shake of his head. She wishedshe could think up something witty and devastating to say back.

Putting him in his place might not have been her top priority, but it was still on her agenda.

But the day had been too long, and she was too sleepy. So she rolled her eyes, and rolled over, and Weaver’s low laugh was the last thing Periwinkle heard as she drifted off and away like a feather.

Reverie