by Liz Kessler
Could it work? There was a slim chance — but what did I have to lose?
Robyn was on her way down the stairs. I had a matter of seconds.
I grabbed the delicate bundle from my pocket. Please, Daisy, let this work, I whispered to the dream dust. I quickly tipped half of it under Robyn’s pillow, folded the rest into the tissue, and shoved it in my pocket. Then I turned to leave.
“Not gone yet?” Robyn was in the doorway.
“I’m going,” I said.
She stood at the top of the stairs as I walked slowly back down toward the shop.
At the bottom of the stairs, I looked up. “Robyn, I —”
“Just go,” she said. And with that, she turned and went back into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.
I lay on my bed, desperate to get to sleep. But the more I thought about how urgently I needed to be asleep, the more awake I was. And the more awake I was, the more I thought about all the things that had happened this week. Every day seemed to have gotten me further and further into this mess, and right now I couldn’t see a way out of it. Apart from my plan. It was my last chance.
I checked under my pillow again. The rest of the dream dust was there. I just hoped it would work again.
Eventually, my racing mind wore me out, and I felt myself drift off into a turbulent sleep.
“You’re here!” Daisy was waiting for me outside a huge white building. It had two enormous stone pillars at the front, and a real, live lion in front of each. They prowled around us as we talked, snarling and licking their lips.
“Don’t worry about them,” Daisy said. “They’re not even supposed to be here. It’s because the crystals were mixed up. They fell out of another dream. Sometimes if you mix dreams up, it can create really powerful images.”
I tried to feel reassured. Still, I kept a close eye on them both, in case they came nearer.
“Was that what you were trying to tell me? To take the dream dust?”
Daisy smiled. “You read my mind,” she said. “I just knew it might be my only chance to communicate with you.”
“Why didn’t you come out?” I asked. “Why did you hide?”
“Being in the jar had taken so much of my energy,” she said. “Even if it wasn’t daytime I don’t think I could have transformed. Can you imagine how that would have looked? You find me, get all ready to prove to Robyn that I’m a fairy, and all I can do is hop feebly around on the floor. You heard what she said. I’d have been lying dead at the bottom of the trash by now.”
“I guess so,” I agreed. “How are you now?”
“Better. Not great. I tried to transform, and I still couldn’t do it. I can hardly even fly. And I’m still stuck in this office. I can’t get out.”
“Why?”
“She must have told her dad what happened, and he came up and locked it. I hid in the closet when I heard him coming. I could see him from under the door. He wasn’t very happy when he saw the jar was open and I was gone.”
“What did he do?”
“Looked around everywhere, growling and snarling angrily. I hopped into a coat pocket, and luckily he didn’t go through all his clothes.”
“What does he want with you?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I’m pretty sure it’s got something to do with my wings. He wants them.” Daisy shuddered. “I don’t even want to think about it.”
“Me, neither,” I said, my heart heavy with despondency and dread. Then I remembered my idea! “Daisy — I put some of the dream dust under Robyn’s pillow!”
Daisy stared at me. “What? Why did you do that?”
“I — I don’t know. I thought maybe if I met up with you, you’d be able to go into a dream of hers and show her that you’re real. Then she’d help us get you out of the office, and her horrible dad won’t be able to cut off your wings. I know it’s probably a stupid idea. I just —”
“Philippa, it’s brilliant!” she said. “It’s perfect! The only thing is — I can’t go on my own. She’ll just think it’s a dream. You’ll have to go first. I’ll come in when you call me. Then she’ll see that I’m a real fairy.”
“You won’t be too tired to transform?”
She shook her head. “We can do anything. It’s a dream! We’ll have to make sure it’s convincing, though, so she knows you’re telling the truth. Tell her everything. We’ll show her I’m real. Then maybe you’re right. Maybe she’ll be able to stop her dad from cutting off my wings. Philippa, I’m not going to get out of here. I’ve got no strength left to do anything. As soon as he finds me, he’ll cut off my wings and leave me for dead. I’m sure of it.”
I swallowed hard. I couldn’t think about what she’d said, or it would scare me so much I’d probably freak out and mess the whole thing up. We had one chance. “Daisy, I’ll convince her. I will. I’ll make sure of it.”
“OK. I’m going to disappear for a bit and see if I can find out what kind of a dream she got tonight and if she’s in it yet. As soon as she is, I can bring the two dreams together. Watch for her — you won’t have long.”
“OK,” I said. “Good luck. You’ll come back, won’t you?”
“Of course I will,” Daisy said. “Proving to Robyn that I’m real is my only chance to get out of here alive!”
“Right,” I said. “Let’s do it.”
Daisy met my eyes for a moment. And then I blinked, and she was gone.
The building turned into an airplane and started flying away from me. Behind it lay miles and miles of wasteland. Animals prowled around. As I watched, a lone tree grew, zooming up into the sky. Its long, thin trunk reached all the way through the clouds, and then leaves popped out, bursting into flowers full of color. Birds flew around the tops of the tree, tiny as dots against the clouds.
Around the tree, the wasteland lay still, stark, and bare. Just flat plains. Nothing and no one here except me. What was I supposed to do? Just wait here for Robyn to show up, or should I go and look for her?
I wandered around the plains. The ground was hot, burning my feet. Behind a sand dune, there were some boots. I sat down to put them on. When I stood up again, Robyn was in front of me.
“Where am I?” she said.
I met her eyes. They looked startled and bright. “You’re in a dream,” I said. “And I’m in it, too.”
“Just my luck,” she said with a sniff.
“It’s not luck. I made it happen. I needed to see you again.”
“What for? I’ve got nothing to say to you — in real life or in a dream!” Robyn turned to walk away.
I grabbed her arm. “Wait!” I said, spinning her around. The wasteland growled, the ground popping in hot bubbles, like mini volcanoes exploding all around us. It’s just a dream, just a dream, I reminded myself. Nothing to be scared of. Now, do what you’re here to do — and do it right.
I took a breath. “Look, this is serious. My friend’s in trouble, and I think you’re the only person who can help.”
“Your friend the fairy, that is?” she said sarcastically. “Or your friend the butterfly?”
“Both! She’s the same person. If you don’t believe me, she can prove it to you herself.”
I looked around at the wasteland. Where was she?
As I watched, the wasteland turned into a meadow, full of flowers. Colors everywhere, dancing in a breeze. A million flowers nodding and bobbing, dandelion seeds blowing away. A butterfly flew between them, weaving its way toward us.
“Daisy!” I said, my breath falling out of me in relief.
She flew right in between us. Then slowly, her wings grew larger, her body became elongated, bursting and stretching. All around her, lights spun off in every direction, whizzing across the field, filling the meadow with even more color and light. Every spark became a new flower, until the meadow was bursting with life.
Daisy hovered between us, her wings like the softest silk, fluttering gently. She flew once around us before coming down to land. She stood next to me and rea
ched a hand out to Robyn. “Hello, Robyn,” she said. “I’m Daisy.”
For a moment, Robyn didn’t speak. She stood with her mouth open, staring at Daisy, then looking at me. “Seen something like that before?” Daisy asked.
Then Robyn pulled herself together. “It’s a dream,” she said. “You’re not even here!” She turned to Daisy. “And neither are you. You’re just figments of my imagination. I’m dreaming.”
“You are dreaming,” Daisy said. “But this is real. I am real. I created these dreams so we could prove this to you. I’m —” Suddenly, Daisy fell to the floor.
“Daisy, what is it?”
She was writhing around on the ground, kicking out, waving her arms. “No! No! Get off me!”
I fell to my knees. “What’s happening, Daisy? What can I do?”
“He’s got me!” she said. “I had to leave the closet to pick up the rest of the dust so I could bring it all together into one dream. He must have been watching me. Philippa, he’s got me! Help!”
I turned to Robyn. She was staring down at Daisy. “Look!” I said. “I told you! She’s in terrible trouble. You have to stop your dad. You’re the only person he’ll listen to. Please!”
“It’s just a dream,” Robyn said mechanically. She sounded as though she was talking more to herself than anyone else. “It’s just a dream.” She said it over and over, like a mantra, trying to make herself believe it.
Daisy stopped struggling and fell limp.
“Daisy, what’s happened?”
She didn’t reply. She just lay there. As I looked at her, her wings began to fade.
“No! Daisy!”
“Please, Philippa, help me,” she said, her voice a shaky whisper.
“Just a dream, just a dream.” Robyn stared down at Daisy, repeating the words over and over.
Any minute now, it was going to be too late. I grabbed Robyn’s arm. “Listen, I don’t care if you don’t believe all that stuff about the fairies or the dreams or anything, OK? But believe in one thing.”
Robyn folded her arms and turned away. “What?”
“Believe in friendship. Believe that there’s someone who is my friend, just like you are, who I can talk to about anything, just like we can.”
For the first time, I noticed a flicker of something cross Robyn’s face. What was it? Doubt? Trust? Hope? I pushed ahead while I had the chance. “Believe that I care about her enough to know that I have to do anything I can to get her out of danger.”
Robyn let out a long breath. “And suppose I do that. Then what?”
“Then wake up. Get up and go up to your dad’s study. If he’s not in there, if there’s no butterfly in the cupboard, then you can forget I ever asked anything of you. You can forget you met me, if you like.”
“And if he’s there?”
“Then get him to tell you what he’s doing. Get him to stop. Please! That’s all I’m asking.”
I looked down at Daisy. She had faded almost completely now. The meadow was drying out, and the flowers had all wilted and died.
“Robyn, hurry!” I said.
The meadow was a barren wasteland again. Daisy was gone. Would we be too late?
“If you’re lying . . .” Robyn said.
“I’m not. I promise!”
“OK.” She turned away from me and started to walk away. A second later she was gone.
I was on my own in the meadow. But it wasn’t a meadow anymore. It was rubble. Concrete. Buildings appeared in the far corner. Skyscrapers — they were springing up all over the field, coming toward me, closing in. And then I was inside one of them, going down an escalator. Down, down. Under the ground. It was pitch-black. The escalator threw me off at the bottom, and I bumped to the ground.
Picking myself up, I reached out — walls on either side. I was in a corridor, in the dark. Like the one in my first nightmare. Similar, but different. This one had tiny lights all along the walls. They were candles, night-lights, just enough so that I could see my way along the corridor.
I was under the earth, following the snaking corridor on its twisting path. Turning and turning, right, left, back on itself — until it straightened out. It was long, like a hospital corridor — clinical and bare.
And at the end of it — that light again. It was even stronger than the light I’d dreamed about before, and I was even more desperate to reach it. A thought shot into my head like an arrow from a bow: I had to get there. I absolutely had to.
The light burned more and more strongly.
Then one of the lions was there again. Prowling around me, circling me. Don’t think about it. It’s not here; it’s not real; it’s not even meant to be in this dream. I pulled myself up to my knees and looked the lion in the eye. It stared at me, its green eyes hard as bullets. I stared back even harder. You don’t belong in this dream, I thought to myself as fiercely as I could. You can’t hurt me.
And then, with a bloodcurdling howl, the lion sprang forward, hurling itself through the air toward me. You’re not real! I thought. You’re not real.
The lion froze in midair. Literally froze. It turned to ice. Then it shattered into a million pieces and fell all around me.
I stumbled closer to the light. I was almost there. I was going to make it. Suddenly I was surrounded by trees. I was in the middle of a forest. The light shone through the trees, dodging and skipping in between them, growing dim and then strong again, opening and closing like a fan. Branches fell in front of me, snapping and tumbling with every step. I didn’t care. I was close now; nothing could stop me.
Slipping and falling with almost every step, I stumbled on. And then — I’d made it. I’d reached the light. I was inside it, right in the center of the light.
I felt around for something. The light was blinding me. What was that? A door. A handle. I reached out with both hands and turned the handle. Pushing gently, I opened the door.
Falling through the door, I landed in a heap on the floor.
I rubbed my eyes and looked around, trying to take in my surroundings. It was a small room. I’d landed on a rug in front of a fire. The fire crackled and spat. Logs were arranged carefully in the grate, and flames curled around them as heat filled the room.
A squashy sofa piled high with cushions faced the fire. There was a rocking chair in a corner, with a shawl over it. In another corner, an open staircase led up to a second floor. A mantelpiece above the fire was filled with figurines. All animals. A bear, a rabbit, lots of butterflies.
A hefty-looking front door was shut and bolted. On the other side of the room, another door was shut, too. How had I gotten in here? I stood up and walked over to the front door. Where was I?
I heard the door behind me creak open. Someone was coming in! I spun around. A woman. It was too dark to see her face.
“Hello, Philippa,” the woman said with a gentle smile. She closed the door behind her and came into the light. “Were you looking for me?”
“Annie!” I said with a gasp. “But — how — what — where —”
Annie laughed softly. Sitting down on the sofa, she patted a cushion beside her. “Come and sit down,” she said. “Tell me how I can help you.”
I sat down. “I don’t know how you can help,” I said. “I don’t know why I’m here, or how I got here. I —” I stopped. Her eyes were looking so intently at me, they were almost burning into me. It felt as though she could see into the corners of my mind, into the parts I didn’t even know about myself.
“Am I still dreaming?” I asked, feeling foolish.
Annie smiled again and nodded. “Philippa, you’ve gotten yourself into a very powerful dream here. Do you know that?”
“I — I think so,” I said nervously. “Daisy said the dreams got jumbled up, and that can make them quite strong.”
Saying Daisy’s name jolted me. It was as though I woke up — although a part of my brain knew I was still asleep.
“Daisy!” I said, leaping off the sofa. “We’ve got to help her! I’v
e got to get out of here. Please — you have to let me go!” I ran to the door.
“Wait a minute. Slow down,” Annie said calmly. How could she be calm when Daisy was in trouble? “Come and sit down and tell me all about it.”
“I haven’t got time to sit down! We’ve got to help Daisy!”
“Daisy?”
“My friend. She — she’s a —” I stopped. How could I tell Annie that my friend was a butterfly? It was bad enough having to deal with Robyn’s reaction when I’d tried to tell her. Grown-ups certainly didn’t believe in things like that! And then there was what Robyn’s dad had said about Annie — how she wasn’t what she seemed. I hovered in the doorway, my hand on the handle.
“Philippa, your friend . . .” Annie repeated.
I quickly weighed my options. What did I have to lose? I could trust her, or I could run the risk of losing Daisy — forever!
“She’s a butterfly,” I said, my voice thin and wavering like a tiny leaf fluttering in a breeze. “She’s at Robyn’s house. Her dad — he’s — he’s —”
Annie sat forward, her eyes full of concern. She wasn’t laughing at me. She wasn’t telling me that I was being silly. “He’s what, Philippa?”
“He’s going to cut off her wings,” I said. Then I shut my eyes and chomped down hard on my lip. It sounded ridiculous — I knew it did — and I didn’t want to watch her burst out laughing.
A moment later, I felt Annie grab my hand. I opened my eyes.
“Listen carefully to me,” she said. “Do exactly as I say.”
I nodded.
“I’m going to get you a drink. Drink it all immediately. It will make you wake up.”
“What’s in it? Are you going to poison me?”
“Philippa, you’re in a dream. I can’t harm you. But I can help you to come out of it. You’re too deeply in the dream to come out of it on your own. If you don’t have the drink, you’ll be asleep for hours.”
“We haven’t got hours!” I moaned.
“I know,” she said seriously. “That’s why we have to hurry. Now, have the drink. You’ll wake in your bed. Get up immediately and go to the bookshop.”
