Page 78 of Wings of Reverie

Still. Down the line went Periwinkle, and up again came all her dance partners. Flare with her pale braids, Spangle with her glasses, and again that fairy in the mask with all the sparkling dark gray stones. Her dark hair was cut sharply along her cheekbones,and she wore a plain, dark cloak, undecorated except for a few fallen snowflakes. Periwinkle racked her memory.

“Icaria!” she exclaimed. The new winter fairy, the one she’d met in Mistletoe Terrace, where Periwinkle had knocked over her snow lantern. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you as well.” Icaria nodded as she and Periwinkle circled each other. “Your gown’s fantastic.”

“Thank you,” Periwinkle said, unable to stop her enormous smile. Then she studied Icaria’s outfit. “Did you cut your hair?”

The other fairy nodded. “I did. I usually wear it like this; it had just been a while since I’d cut it.”

“I keep my hair short, too,” Periwinkle said. “I like it out of my eyes while I look for found things.”

“Found things?” Icaria frowned behind her mask as they both raised their arms to twirl. “That sounds like scout work. But you’re a frost-talent.” Her voice was serious, almost jarring in their casual conversation.

“Well, yes. I am. But I also just seem to…find things,” Periwinkle said, feeling caught off guard. “No one’s just one thing.”

She thought of Weaver then, with his dream-talent alongside his spinning and sewing and weaving. One was his particular magic; the other was a craft that he loved and had worked to develop. Pixie Hollow had given Periwinkle the ability to frost the land. But a piece of Periwinkle’s heart was also just always looking for something.

She’d done a lot of looking lately, and a lot of finding. The dream journal. The spindle and scissors. The dream magic.

Weaver.

Fairies in the two lines joined hands then, and Periwinkle noticed Icaria had been quiet for a long time. “Are you all right?” she asked kindly.

Icaria nodded, frowning. “I’m just thinking of what you said. Of doing more—being more—than just your talent.”

Periwinkle didn’t answer, but she watched Icaria, wishing she could understand the thoughts inside her head and beneath her mask. She wondered if Icaria was beginning to understand something new about her own talent, as well.

Maybe she could get to know Icaria better, later. Maybe this was another way Periwinkle’s life could change, and she could keep becoming—more.

“I think I need some fresh air,” Icaria finally said. “I’ve never been to the First Frost Ball before and didn’t realize how crowded it would be.”

“Me either,” Periwinkle said, nodding at the door. “Go stretch your wings.” Icaria gave her a weak smile. As she left the dance floor, the starlight and moonlight catching on her mask, she cut through the crowd toward the night outside quicker than Periwinkle would’ve thought possible.

22

No sooner had Icaria slipped away than Periwinkle’s friends swooped in to drag her back to the banquet tables and exclaim over her gown. She was glad to see them—Mitsy, Flare, Spangle, Lattice, Alpine, and so many others—and she was happy to hear them admire Weaver’s work. She even thought she spotted Anise, whose cardinal-feather gown she’d modeled (badly) for Spangle. But she knew the ball would last only so long, and she and Weaver had only so much time.

Where was he? More to the point, where was Lord Milori?

The night was still young. But Periwinkle was beginning to wonder how important it really was that Lord Milori be distractedbefore they left to heal the Pixie Dust Root. Surely, the most important part was getting the dreams there. Lord Milori couldn’t be that upset that they’d kept secrets from him, and if he had questions, they’d be answered when he saw the rot had been healed. Still, she and Weaver had a plan, so she waited.

The first mince pie Periwinkle ate while she hovered anxiously beside the banquet table and watched the room was delicious, sweet and spicy, filled with diced currants and raisins and apples. The second and third were almost as good.

But when Weaver still hadn’t come back after she’d downed a fourth pie and the music-talents had taken a break, Periwinkle began to feel more than a little unwell.

So when she saw Lord Milori in a mallard-feather robe and his usual cloak of owl feathers, watching the ball from up on the mezzanine, she decided it was time to act. Periwinkle flew upstairs and took a spot beside him at the balcony railing. “Good evening, Lord Milori. How are you enjoying the ball?”

“Good evening, Periwinkle. I’m having a very nice time, thank you,” he said, though his expression stayed as stoic as always. Periwinkle wondered how it was possible to be enjoying yourself and still look like you had a stomachache. “And you?”

“It’s my first First Frost Ball,” she said. “I’m just taking everything in.”

“And I see you’ve taken full advantage of your new connections to Floss’s workshop,” Lord Milori said wryly. “Your gown is exceptionally well-made. I wish I knew what that color reminded meof.” Periwinkle’s heart jolted as he frowned like he was trying to remember something, then shook his head. “How have you found helping Floss?”

Periwinkle waved at her dress. “Advantageous,” she said. Lord Milori gave something thatmighthave been a smile.

“Have you had a difficult week apart from your friends?” he asked.

“I have missed them,” she admitted. “But I’ve been busy. And I’ve taken the chance to widen my circle a bit. Make some more friends.”