Page 27 of Wings of Reverie

“Breathe,” she told him. “Fresh air. Daylight.”

“You are not a spring garden fairy, and I am not a plant,” he grumbled.

“No, you’re a highly temperamental dream-talent, and I’m stuck working with you,” she said. “Now stand there and enjoy the sunshine.” While Weaver stood with his hands on his hips and an impatient set to his wings, Periwinkle collapsed beside him into her first-favorite reading spot in the Hall of Winter.

The overstuffed chair beside the window had a seat large enough to flop around in and a plush slipcover of quilted snowdrop petals. It fit Periwinkle whether she sat sideways or cross-legged,because she read here all the time, and she was pretty sure she was the only one who did. The window beside the chair got the glitteriest morning sunlight of any spot in the hall. Not to mention—all posted signs and notices aside—the Keeper couldn’t scold her for eating pastries from Lattice’s if she read up here where he couldn’t see her do it.

Periwinkle loved sitting up here. She leaned back in her squashy chair and shut her eyes.

“So?” Weaver prompted a moment later. “What are we supposed to be doing?”

“Thinking,” she said. “If you were a fairy hundreds of years ago, where would you build a workshop?”

Weaver groaned. “You have got to be kidding.”

“No, listen.” Periwinkle leapt to her feet again, gesturing out the window. Juniper Glade lay over to their left, the mountains stood to their right, and the rest of Winter spread out in front of them. “We need to look around us,” she said. “We need to really consider this.”

“Consider what?” Weaver threw up his hands. Legs, who’d also come out to enjoy the sunshine, hopped hurriedly down to the windowsill. “We’re supposed to be looking for books, not thinking out loud.”

“Stop,” Periwinkle said again, with a gentleness that surprised even her. “Think about it. Would they have put the workshops nearer the borders for the sake of getting or sending things to the warm seasons, or were they getting most of their supplies from Winter?” she asked. “Would they have built them somewhere easyto reach for bringing in supplies, or kept them somewhere more remote, to keep their secrets?”

Weaver paused. “Oh,” he finally said. “I hadn’t really thought about any of that.”

“I know,” Periwinkle said. “Me either. This is why we needed to take a break and think.”

She’d meant to gloat when he admitted she was right. But staring out the window at the silhouette of Snow Globe Mountain in the distance, Periwinkle sort of forgot to feel smug.

Snow Globe Mountain. It was the tallest mountain in the Winter Woods, with the fiercest winds, just visible from this side of the Hall of Winter. It was also where Selene had disappeared.

Periwinkle had only met Selene in passing before it had happened. The fast-flier had been pale, with a broad, strong build and black hair she kept chopped to her cheekbones. She’d also been the fastest flier in the Winter Woods—and yet Snow Globe Mountain had been too much for her.

There was probably no place more remote in the Winter Woods for a secret workshop, or more dangerous. But no matter where their quest took them—and Periwinkle really hoped it wasn’t there—she and Weaver would have to be careful.

“What about—” Periwinkle cleared her throat, turning away and setting her thoughts on a different track. “What about woods? Evergreen Overlook, or Mistletoe Terrace? Or even the Pixie Dust Root and the treeitself, do you think? Or—” She stared around the hall’s ice-blue interior. “Could there have been something herein the Hall of Winter? It’s at least a few hundred years old. As old as—” But Periwinkle hesitated.

“What?” Weaver frowned, waving a hand for her to keep going. “I was following your spoken-word poem, or whatever all that was. Talk some more.” But Periwinkle shook her head and bit her lip.

Her mind was still working. But now she was thinking of her dream from the night before. Of the night market completely obliterated, of the Pixie Dust Root twisting and tearing itself apart.

The days before the First Frost Ball were quickly disappearing. Periwinkle knew she’d find the answers they needed eventually, but they needed to move faster than that.

“You were right before,” Periwinkle said. “Thereisa better way to do this.”

He straightened. “There is?”

“Yes.” She grimaced, bracing herself. “I’m going to go talk to the Keeper.”

8

“Absolutely not,” Weaver said. “No. We agreed we couldn’t talk to the Keeper. You’ll give the whole thing away.”

“Iknow,” Periwinkle said. “Just—listen. We’ve searched every map we could find for the dream-magic workshops. You and I both already looked into dreams themselves on our own and didn’t find anything. But it’s okay. I have an idea.”

“Is it going to top your last amazing idea?” he asked flatly. “You know, the one where I had to pull you out of a river?”

“Hush. I thought of an angle I can try, and I think I can be—you know.” She paused. “Subtle about it.”

“Sure,” Weaver muttered. “I’ll believe that when it snows in Summe—Periwinkle.”