Page 26 of Barbie: Dreamscape

The horse just huffs in response.

“I don’t know what to say to her!” he exclaims. And again, I’m right here.

Another huff.

“Fine.” Ken shifts toward me. “Are you… having an existential crisis?”

I frown. “No,” I snap. Though… maybe. I shake my head. Panic isn’t going to get me anywhere. I need to find a solution. I take a deep breath and lift my chin, trying to look confident. “Is there someone in Summerland who might know how I can get to Dreamland?”

Ken purses his lips. He looks at his horse. His horse looks back at him. They both seem to have some sort of conversation, because finally, Ken turns to me and says, “The Archivist might be able to help.”

“Who?”

He points toward the horizon. All I see are endless flowers. “She lives on the beach, on the other side of Summerland. She collects everything strange that washes ashore. If anyone knows about another world… it’s her.” He motions up. “Jump on. Sandy and I will take you.”

I stare up at the horse—Sandy—who stares back at me with an expression that I can only describe as thoroughly unimpressed. “I’ve never ridden a horse before.”

Ken just shrugs a shoulder. “Now’s always a great time to start.”

I bite the inside of my mouth. Sandy still hasn’t blinked this entire time. The horse is staring me down, as if in challenge.

Ken sighs. “Don’t mind her. She’s just mad you ruined her favorite flowers.”

I turn, only to see a me-shaped imprint on a patch of pink tulips. “Oh… sorry…” I say to Sandy, who just harrumphs.

“Here,” Ken says, gesturing toward the saddle. “This is the stirrup. You’re going to put your foot here”—he demonstrates—“then swing yourself over.” He demonstrates that too, gracefully bringing one leg over the other side of the horse. He makes it look easy.

I look down at my outfit and frown.

One of my heels is broken. The bows in my hair are hanging down. My previously perfectly pressed dress is covered in dirt, and some of the threads are ripped up.

Clearly, I’m unprepared. I had no idea what an adventure like this might entail. The greatest journey I’ve been on before now was the short boat ride to the border canals to watch the Heart Races with Callie and Sunny.

These definitely aren’t the best clothes for horseback riding. Or for literally anything other than prancing around a school.

Then change, I think. But… I’m in the middle of a field of flowers. I don’t exactly have Wardrobe. Unfortunately.

I reach up to rub my necklace, the way I do when I need to settle myself, feeling the “R” necklace nestled alongside my own, and—

The pink glow they cast was definitely magic. How else would I have gotten through the mist?

Maybe the necklaces can help me now, too…

I won’t know until I try. And right now, I’m willing to try anything. I’m already Fateless and covered in dirt. I fell on my face in front of this horse. My self-consciousness is practically nonexistent.

Here goes probably nothing.

I clutch both charms in my fist, close my eyes, and think of Wardrobe, filled with rows and rows of clothes, and shelves of shoes, the outfits my mother made for me.

An outfit for every occasion.

“Whoa,” I hear, and open my eyes just as a flash of pink glitter cloaks me… before settling, revealing a completely new ensemble: pink jeans, a belt, a sparkling salmon jacket, and a rose-colored riding hat.

It actually worked.

I feel a heady rush that I was able to work a little magic—even if it’s, um, borrowed—just like I felt in the library, when I used Callie’s faeries.

My confidence comes crawling back. My spine straightens. I can use accessories. I deserve a Fate.