Page 30 of Barbie: Dreamscape

“Do you know anything about these places?” I ask.

The Archivist just shakes her head. “I only know what washes upon my shores.”

Right. “So I just have to find the key in each land to get to the next? That doesn’t seem so hard,” I venture.

The Archivist laughs. And laughs and laughs, a sputtering sound, as the map begins to curl in quickly, like a tongue, jostling all the teacups before it races into its original scroll. She pushes the rolled-up map back into the wall of sand until it disappears entirely, leaving only the shell again.

“A single key, in lands made up of thousands of objects! It will be nearly impossible to find it! You won’t even know what you’re looking for!”

Oh.

That dark tide of hopelessness rushes in again, the same shade of despair I’ve been living in ever since I was declared Fateless.

This time, though, I rise above it.

The Fates didn’t see me worthy of receiving a role. If I’m going to prove them wrong, I need to be strong.

“Maybe these can help,” I say, lifting the necklaces up again.

The Archivist stops laughing. She tilts her head. “Interesting theory… keys being drawn to other keys… perhaps made by the very same magic… fascinating.” After a moment, she finally nods and says, “Perhaps you’re onto something.”

I give the Archivist a hard look. She’s shifty like these sands… saying something is impossible, then changing her mind. It’s a little infuriating, but also, maybe it means anything can be questioned. Impossible things can become possible, with just a few changes…

The Fates’ decisions can become un-final. Maybe they can even admit they made a mistake.

The Archivist pushes back from the table and says, “Whenever I’m stuck, I find a walk on the beach helps. Go on, then!” She motions us toward the drawbridge.

“Thank you,” I say. Ken was right. She did help. The woman gives me a wave and a wink before retreating back into her person-size sandcastle.

A little while later, Ken and I are walking along the shore, and Sandy is unhappily prancing beside us, scowling at the sand. I’m not entirely sure what the point of this walk is, but the view is breathtaking, just a blue stretch of ocean as far as the eye can see, the sun reflecting off the waves.

“So. What’s your life like here?” I ask, looking around, if only to distract myself by the fact that we have been walking for half an hour with little result.

This place couldn’t look more different from Heartland. For one, I barely see any structures. The horizon is clear. I’m sure there are houses and buildings somewhere, but it seems like they all must be pretty far from the coast, and all far from one another.

For another, there are fields of grass, and flowers, and of course, beaches. This land is so much more vast and wild than the one I came from.

“Life’s amazing,” Ken says, his entire face lighting up with his smile. “I wake up with the sunrise, take a swim in the ocean, wander through the fields, catch up with Sandy, ride her through the flowers, then maybe take a visit to the salt flats.”

I’ve never even heard of salt flats. None of the books I’ve read ever mentioned them. I find myself wanting to see them… to see more of this place, even when I should be focused on how to find the key.

Ken shrugs and extends his arms wide, throwing his head back. “Every day is different, but one thing’s the same. I’m always outside, beneath the sun.” He turns to me. “How about where you come from?”

I frown, realizing it seems like we live polar opposite existences. “Well, up until a few days ago, I would get up. Get ready for classes. Have breakfast in an office. Go to different classrooms. Stay in to study.”

“What did you study?”

I look at him, surprised, realizing he never mentioned school as part of his daily routine. “Well, I mean… a bit of everything. English, history, math… some other stuff.”

His eyes narrow. “Okay, so you would study, and then what?”

I lift a shoulder. “Wake up and do it all over again?”

It’s Ken’s turn to frown. He shakes his head. “You mean… you never left your school? You didn’t go… outside?”

I chew the inside of my mouth. “Sometimes, at night, after classes are done, to watch fireworks. But yeah, if I had a lot of studying to do, sometimes I wouldn’t leave for weeks at a time.”

“Weeks?!” he exclaims.