Page 51 of Barbie: Dreamscape

If a dress is what I need to get into this manor that might hold the final key… I’ll give anything I have. “What is it?”

“You should really just have them tell you,” Evalyn says. She notices my yawn. “When was the last time you slept, darling?”

I’m not sure. Time has moved differently in each land I’ve visited.

Now that I’m not in immediate danger, I’m starting to feel the tiredness like a weight upon me.

“You need rest, child,” she says. “Come.”

She leads me toward a small room with a bed draped with quilts made of the most magnificent, cozy-looking fabrics. It’s nothing like my massive, pink-perfect room at Swancrest.

But it’s warm and perfect in its own way.

“Sleep for as long as you need,” she says. “And wear whatever suits you.” She motions toward a wardrobe.

“Thank you,” I tell the woman, wondering what I ever did to deserve such kindness. She just smiles and closes the door.

I study the wardrobe. This one doesn’t move. It doesn’t shrug or open by itself to show me its contents. I open the cabinet doors, only to find dozens and dozens of beautiful outfits, perfectly my size. My heart gives another surprised thump. It’s almost as if these clothes were stitched for my exact measurements… Perhaps this wardrobe is enchanted.

For now, I replace my ruined ensemble with a blanket-soft nightgown and warm socks. Cozy and comfortable, I tuck myself into the bed, my bones and muscles all seeming to sigh in relief as I sink into the soft mattress.

Then I bury myself in the wool-lined quilt and sleep.

I wake up to dappled sunlight streaming through the timeworn window.

And something dangling right at my eye level.

A night-black spider, hanging by a string.

I gasp and startle, but the spider only looks at me curiously, tilting its head, before snapping back up to the ceiling.

The door clicks open. “Good, you’re awake!” Evalyn says, holding an empty plate. Her gaze travels upward. “Don’t mind Carissa; she’s a bit of a busybody.”

I look up at Carissa. I swear I can still feel her staring at me.

“Is… Carissa… one of the tailors?”

“No, no. She’s more of an assistant,” Evalyn says. “Now, hurry, or you’ll miss breakfast.”

Miss it? Evalyn leads me to the front window. I’m still in my nightgown. She opens the latch. Gestures hurriedly. When I don’t move, she says, “Stick the plate out, child!”

Okay. I do.

And jolt backward slightly when something lands on it.

A golden, fluffy waffle. Then another. Then a glob of butter.

I bring the plate back inside and Evalyn tops it with a healthy puddle of maple syrup from a leaf-shaped glass pitcher. “Got it fresh this morning,” she says. At my stunned look, she adds, “The baker makes breakfast, too.”

Right.

“Eat up. It’s going to be a long day.”

An hour later, once I’m stuffed with waffles and tea and wearing an outfit from that mysterious wardrobe, Evalyn leads me into the woods beyond the village, a patch of trees full of oaks with perfectly oval holes in their centers, curious creatures peering through them. Birds chirp happily. Leaves rustle in a breeze that smells faintly of cinnamon. I haven’t asked where we’re going, or why the spiders live so far from the village, and Evalyn hasn’t offered to tell me. For a little while I’m content to just follow her silently, enjoying the storybook surroundings.

But the farther we go, the darker it gets.

Until we reach a clearing that feels like a gaping hole in these woods, a blotch of blight.