Page 39 of Wings of Reverie

“And the Book Flood was so much fun!” Spangle clapped her hands—a risky move, Periwinkle thought, considering Spangle was now holding razor-sharp scissors and a needle. “Who did you give books to? Did you go to the reading party in Snowlight Square or the one in Evergreen Overlook?”

“Oh. I stayed home,” Periwinkle said. “And I only gave a book to Weaver.”

Trim gasped. “But Weaver never talks to anyone! And when he does, he’s totally hostile, no matter how much we try to be nice to him.” She slumped, looking sulky, then paused. “Are you two…together?”

“What?” Periwinkle hadn’t meant to blurt the word out so loudly. “I mean, no. No, of course not. Weaver is rude, and irritating.”

Spangle frowned. “I thought you were friends.”

“We are! We are friends. We’re just—” Periwinkle broke off at their confused stares. “It’s not like that,” she finished clumsily.

Trim bit her lip, then gave Periwinkle an embarrassed smile. “Well, as long as you’re not going out with him, could you put in a good word for me?”

Periwinkle hesitated, turning to look at Weaver. He was leaning over his workbench, one pencil behind his ear and another in his hand as he marked a pattern onto the back of a eucalyptus leaf. The lightcatcher overhead illuminated his cheekbones, the careful motion of his hands, the movement of his lips as he counted quietly to himself.

“Um,” Periwinkle said, not looking away from him. Trim and Spangle followed her glance, and Weaver met their stares as he began to pack up his station.

When he gave Trim and Spangle a look so disdainful that Periwinkle physically flinched, all three of them looked away.

“Sure.” Periwinkle cleared her throat and tried to give Trim a bright smile. “I’ll do my best.”

But as Spangle finally snipped the ivy vine and freed Periwinkle from the dress, Periwinkle wasn’t sure if she was itchy from feather fluff clinging to her skin or from the favor Trim had asked.

“Good luck at the snowball fight tonight,” she said, moving toward the door. “Have fun!”

“Thanks.” Spangle wrapped a mallard-feather scarf around her neck, glancing doubtfully at Weaver waiting by the exit with his hands in his pockets. “But I think you need it more than we do.”

Periwinkle and Weaver were quiet as they made their way toward her home, but she could hear the sounds of the snowball fight already beginning down in the moonlit Frost Forest.

“You worked late tonight,” Periwinkle began. “Were you hoping I’d give up on waiting for you and just go home?”

Weaver gave her an ironic glance. “I assume your new friends thought that’s what you should do.”

“Hardly,” Periwinkle mumbled. “Trim and Spangle barely did more than look at you, and you bit their heads off.”

“I didn’t say anything!” he protested.

“You sure didn’t,” she said. “You didn’t speak to anyone all day. Except for when you talked to Spangle while I was helping her, and I think she almost fainted to find out you have an actual voice.”

“And you were watching me?” The corner of his mouth kicked up. “All day?”

Periwinkle glared at him, but she felt herself flush again. “Of course not,” she said. “But Trim asked if I could set the two of you up.”

“She askedwhat?” Weaver stopped short in the air, gaping. “What did you say?”

His face was a mask of horror, brows furrowed, black eyes wide. Periwinkle gave a hopeless laugh, trying to ignore the weird twinge in her chest. “She’s got a crush on you. I…told her I’d put in a good word.”

Weaver frowned, then set off flying again, avoiding Periwinkle’s eyes. “I don’t think so. The people at work—I don’t really talk to them. And I wouldn’t want to get involved with one of them.” He rubbed his temples, gritting his teeth like he was annoyed.

Periwinkle flew on, refusing to feel relieved.

“You know, they’re not as nice as they pretend to be,” Weaver suddenly said.

She frowned. “Hmm?”

Weaver ran a hand through his hair, looking uncomfortable. “The other fairies in the workshop, I mean.” He said it quickly, like he wanted to get it all out at once. Periwinkle tried to read his face, but the path to the Frost Forest was dark, and he wouldn’t look at her.

“But everyone was so kind,” Periwinkle said. “The sewing fairies told me you shut them all down when they try to talk to you.”