Page 24 of Wings of Reverie

Mistletoe Terrace

No sign of her.—A

Snow Globe Mountain: Mistletoe Terrace Side

Nothing, and nearly lost a wing myself.—Z

Snowcap Glade

Nothing.—Z

The Drift

Scouted above, not beneath (obviously). Always a long shot…nothing.—A

7

When Periwinkle finally reached the Hall of Winter in Juniper Glade the next morning, she found it busier than she’d expected. Which was pleasant, considering that when the sunshine coming through her skylight had woken her up earlier, she’d found herself alone. She and Weaver hadn’t talked about when he’d be leaving the night before, so she could hardly blame him, but still.

She’d woken up with questions. She’d wanted to know what he’d gotten from her dream. How much material had there been? Had there been more nightmare than dream for him to work with, or was it the other way around?

The Pixie Dust Well had looked fine when she’d gone first thing—a relief, after her nightmare about the destroyed market. But if the dream had made one thing clear, it was that they had no time to waste. So Periwinkle had decided to get started alone.

She’d been surprised to find Juniper Glade so crowded when she showed up. The Hall of Winter’s ice-blue doors glinted with morning light as they opened and shut, and fairies streamed in and out through the carved-ice pillars on the threshold, threading around one another with their arms full of books.

When she finally got a clear shot at the threshold, Periwinkle landed, shifting the bag on her shoulder and wondering what was going on.

But before she could reach for the hall door handles, Weaver stepped from around the corner, hands in his pockets, Legs on his shoulder. “Look at you.” He cocked his head. “Almost didn’t recognize you all by yourself.”

“All by myself? What’s that supposed to mean?” Weaver had startled her again, and Periwinkle was annoyed with both herself and him. “Hi, Legs,” she added, slightly less grumpily, and the spider seemed to twinkle at her before scuttling into Weaver’s pocket.

Weaver pulled open the hall door, gesturing at Periwinkle to duck inside beneath his arm. “You’re always surrounded by such an entourage,” he said. “It’s bizarre to see you alone.”

“I don’t have anentourage, I have friends,” she ground out. “Also, I was alone all afternoon yesterday. I’m frequently alone.”

“The absolutely absurd number of invitations stuck up around your mirror would suggest otherwise.”

“Well, when I woke upalonethis morning, I spent some time thinking about where we should start our research.”

“You did?” Weaver looked surprised.