Page 34 of Barbie: Dreamscape

And those bells become bees.

Shoot. I take off. If one stings me, I’ll die here alone.

I hear them zipping behind me as I run as fast as I can, channeling Callie in PE, jumping over logs that turn into giant centipedes, under branches that become massive bracelets, until at last, the buzzing stops.

My legs finally give out. I’m panting, my lungs burning in my chest, my pulse racing.

Nothing is glowing pink.

I got lucky with the shell; I know that now.

And, unlike Summerland, this place feels wicked. Like it’s a moment away from sinking its teeth into me.

I sit up quickly, feeling myself being watched. I turn my head, sure that I saw several sets of eyes, but—

They’re just marks along the bark.

I slowly stand, and a breeze whispers through the grove, and—it feels like the trees are all leaning toward me. Are those branches… getting longer?

Like arms? About to grab me?

Fear slides through me like ice… and this world seems to sense it. As my thoughts turn darker, so does the forest. Shadows lengthen. The sun is all but blocked out as the trees curve, reaching out, their sharp branches like claws.

I have a feeling they could smother me, shred me into pieces, keep me here forever. Make me into whatever they want.

A harmless rain puddle turns crimson. It slowly drips toward me, and it looks like—

“It’s not blood,” I tell myself, fighting the reaction I have every time I see blood.

But it only runs thicker. Darker. Right toward my feet.

I swallow, stars scattering across my vision. If I pass out now, who knows what this land will do to me? I might never get up.

“It’s not blood… it’s… it’s…” I close my eyes, imagining something good. Something that doesn’t make my vision sputter. “It’s cherry sauce from the ice-cream room,” I tell myself, imagining the dessert section of the elaborate Swancrest cafeteria. The deep red color, sweet on my sundae.

I open my eyes.

And as my thoughts brighten… so does the forest. The trees shrink back. The sun appears once more.

That’s when I realize I can affect this place. This world has shown me its rules.

Which means I can use them to my advantage.

I spot a mushroom so big it’s like a small tree.

Or… like an umbrella?

The moment I have the thought, it transforms into exactly what I imagined.

“Ha!” I say to this world, before sticking my tongue out at it.

Good. I’ve tested my theory. Now I need to be able to cover as much ground as possible to find the key. I look around for something that could transport me, help me see this land from a higher vantage point so I can—

A current sweeps me off my feet, and then I’m gliding up and through a storm that came from nowhere, clinging to the mushroom-turned-umbrella for dear life.

Okay. Clearly, this land is offended.

The wind takes me higher and higher, until I’m cresting the trees, my feet kicking above them, my heart in my throat.