Pushing herself off him, Maggie turned back to the dryad, the riddle echoing within her.
I can do this.
She drew in a long breath.
I can –
“Wait,” Magge whispered. “The moon.”
The dryad leaned forward.
“It’s the moon!” She threw her hands up, her eyes wide. “The answer is the moon.”
Silence passed between them as the creature looked down at her. It wasn’t until the corner of his lip tugged up in the smallest of smiles that she realized she had truly done it. The dryad reached behind his back before plucking a leaf, and bringing it toward her.
“Correct, Woman of the Way,” the dryad said. “You are worthy of my prize.”
Maggie took the leaf from his outstretched hand. It was more beautiful than she expected it to be. While it looked like a freshly plucked leaf from an aging maple tree, depending on the way she turned it, the leaf shone with the reflection of a mirror. When Maggie raised her head, the dryad had gone, disappearing back into the forest’s shadows.
Peter looked over her shoulder at their prize. “Well, I’ll be. A real MirrorLeaf.” He looked mighty impressed for a moment, before the reality seemed to settle in. “Unfortunately for us, that was just the easy one.”
Maggie gaped. “Thatwas the easiest?”
But Peter was already walking away.
“Hey!” she called out after him, already running to catch up.
Fear laced her heart as she began to wonder what might possibly come next.
8
Owls hooted outside the closed restaurant as Maggie munched on a piece of freshly baked bread and home-churned butter. The yeasty and salty notes hit all her tastebuds in the best ways as she ruminated over the long day she had. Going to seek out the witch and the dryad pulled her away from the restaurant all day, but she spent the past few hours prepping for tomorrow, when it’ll be full steam ahead. Danishes filled to the brim with sweetened cream cheese, raspberry compote, and an oaty crumble to top it off waited to be served warm and gooey in the morning. Sweet dough chilled in the freezer, already portioned and scooped. Muffins with all sorts of flavors just finished their rotations in the oven, and cooled off on the counter like rows in a sweet army.
If there was one thing she was looking forward to, it was for everyone to try it all in the morning. She’d get a good night’s sleep in and be ready to work the day away, until she had to go out on another adventure to collect the next ingredient for their spell. Finishing up her small snack, Maggie brushed the stray crumbs off her apron before jumping down from her tall barstool. The brownies were ready to begin cleaning her floury mess, and all she was doing was stalling them. A part of hersimply didn’t want to leave the kitchen, finding its warmth comforting.
“Magpie!”
Peter burst through the front doors of the restaurant and jogged back into the kitchen. The swinging doors whipped out behind him as he strode closer to Maggie, a wide and excited smile stretched across his face.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his eyes clinging to a spot beside her chin. He reached without hesitation, without warning, dragging his thumb along her jawline until the last dusty patches of flour had been brushed away. “There. All clean.”
Maggie was caught in a daze immediately. His hand didn’t move, despite the mess being gone. His thumb continuously moved along her skin, and each swipe pulled another sharp gasp out from between her lips. She blinked rapidly a few times before the appropriate words fell out her mouth.
“What’s got you so excited?” she asked quietly.
Peter blinked a few times, his brow furrowing together. It seemed like the interaction managed to stunt him as well, and the excitement and eagerness he once had no longer grasped him. Peter pressed his lips together and thought until it came back to him and the joy appeared once more, his hands grasping onto her own instantly.
Before he even managed to speak, Maggie was laughing. No matter how old Peter Pan really was, his heart remained forever young. Adventure always lied around the corner and the possibilities were always endless. There was never a moment where excitement didn’t have them on the edge of their seats, or that she was being swept off her feet. Magic was waiting to happen, and Peter was no stranger to jumping blindly into it.
“What’s so funny?” Peter asked, his grin so wide that she was sure it hurt.
“Nothing,” she cooed, staring up at him like a lovesick dog. “Nothing at all.”
Peter was already pulling her outside. She wrestled with her apron, just managing to throw it over her shoulder before he hoisted her into his arms and leapt out the front doors of the restaurant. He started flying within an instant, the rush of wind knocking the words right out of Maggie’s mouth. She wanted to ask where he was planning on taking her, why they had to leave in such a rush when she knew there were still stains of her baking across all her clothes. But that was the thing with Peter Pan, and all of Neverland.
Things happened in a flurry, in a whirlwind, in a rush, and the only way to survive it was to greet it like an old friend.
Maggie held on tightly to Peter as he began to descend on the other side of town. The closer they came, the more a sudden chill started to grab a hold of her. A pale white cloud rested just above a wide lake, where there was already a slurry of people having fun. Snow cascaded down silently from the cloud, trickling across the grassy shore before turning the lake into a long strip of ice. Fairies wore sterling silver ice skates and slid around the lake, expertly dancing and weaving around each other. It was an incredible sight to see, even if Maggie wasn’t entirely dressed for the occasion.
