Peter began to dip down into a regal bow as the creature came closer. Maggie followed suit, her gaze flickering to the creature curiously.
“Arise, King of Neverland.” The creature’s voice was like wood cracking, like a tree splintering and collapsing. His head turned toward Maggie, steely grey eyes holding onto her with a distinct intensity. “Arise, Woman of the Way.”
Maggie’s brow shot up. “Woman of the Way?” she repeated under her breath. “Peter, what does –”
“Witch,” he whispered out the corner of his mouth, the sound coming out like a note of music. “The Way is that of magic. Spellbook magic.”
For the second time in one day, Maggie had been aligned with that of a witch. The coincidence was rather startling anddrew her into a silence for a moment. She straightened slowly, almost forgetting what creature loomed in front of her.
“I am the dryad who guards these woods,” the creature spoke. “The land upon which you approach is that of the forest, only those worthy tread on.”
Maggie blinked and glanced sideways at Peter. He hesitated for a moment, looking at her in the same respect. The dryad spoke so stiffly with an odd tongue, as though he couldn’t say anything that was translucent enough to be simply understood.
“Tell me, Woman of the Way,” the dryad bellowed, eyes honed in on her. “Why have you entered my land?”
Peter looked over his shoulder at her expectantly.
This isn’t at all how it’s supposed to happen.Peter was the hero, he was meant to collect the impossible ingredients valiantly and bravely. Maggie was simply the side character, the one to look after the plants, to cook their meals. Suddenly she was handed the reins, and the power and trust that came along with it was overwhelming. But how could she not want it all the same? Was that not what she had always wanted, to have been valued, to have provided something, to save those she cares for?
Maggie strode toward the dryad. “We seek a MirrorLeaf,” she said. “It is an ingredient in a spell capable of saving the moon coral.”
Suddenly, the dryad swooped forward, coming to Maggie’s eye level. “What is the spell of which you speak?”
“We discovered that the moon coral grows sick with Shadow Fungus,” Maggie explained. “There is a strong spell capable of saving it, but it requires ingredients we were warned to be hard to find.”
“If you were warned,” the dryad asked, “Why do it?”
Maggie paused at the question. Why had she done any of it? “If there are people in need, and I know myself capable of helping them, is it not my responsibility to do so?”
The dryad watched her closely before he pulled back to his tall height. “Your quest might be a noble one, Woman of the Way,” he began in a booming voice, “But it is not enough to win you a MirrorLeaf.”
Maggie’s brow bunched together. “But –”
“Solve my riddle,” he interjected, “And you will find what it is that you seek!”
She stepped forward, the bravery and confidence mounting in a way she hadn’t ever known before. “I’m ready,” she exclaimed.
The dryad’s voice echoed throughout the woods as he proclaimed his riddle:
“I rise, but do not walk.
I wax, but do not have arms.
I shine without flame,
And vanish with no shadow.
What am I?”
Maggie froze. The words seemed to trickle in one ear and out the other. They echoed in her head but she barely understood a word of it.Rise but don’t walk? Wax but no arms? Shine without a flame? Vanish with no shadow?Not an ounce of it made any sense! And who was she to think herself capable of uncovering riddles?
Whipping around to face Peter, Maggie could hardly catch her breath. She pressed a hand to her chest and shook her head. “H-How am I supposed to know this, Peter?” She began to tremble. “I don’t know this! I don’t know –”
Peter reached and collected her hands, holding them tight to stop the tremors. “Relax, Maggie,” he said. He leaned forward, letting his forehead rest against her own. “You know you’re smart. You know you can do this. Take a deep breath – arealdeep breath – and it’ll come to you.”
Maggie’s voice was small when she found it. “It’ll come to me?”
“It’ll come to you,” he repeated.
