Page 82 of Barbie: Dreamscape

I go through all of it, breathing through my body that feels both exactly the same and irrevocably altered…

Yet. “I don’t feel anything.”

I open my eyes. There’s no spark. No magic hidden somewhere deep.

Lune just nods. “That’s not unheard of. Especially if your magic has been blocked.”

My brows inch together. “You think it’s been stifled?”

“Yes, of course. If not, you would have felt it a long time ago.”

Another echo of hurt rings through me. Robin must have found a way to keep my magic under lock and key.

Not any longer.

“How do I unblock it?”

“Well, magic needs to flow freely. You’ve been traveling all this time and now you’re here, and you still don’t feel it. Which makes me think it’s not an external force but perhaps something within you that’s blocking your magic.”

I frown. I was so quick to blame Robin, I didn’t consider I could be the one doing the blocking. “Like what?”

She purses her lips. “It could be anything. Doubt. Shame. Sadness. Anger.”

I swallow, wondering how this woman made her way into my mind.

“But the longer you’re here… the less of that you’ll feel.” She waves her hand as though dispelling my dark thoughts, as if they’re cobwebs she could take down with a broom. She smiles, gesturing around. “This is Dreamland. Everything is perfect. Always.”

I smile back at her. Right. I’ll be fixed before I know it.

“Now. Let’s start with some breathing exercises,” she says happily, motioning for me to close my eyes. Sit still. Breathe.

And I listen.

My Magic Is Just as Stubborn as I Am

Every day here really is like a dream.

I can do whatever I want. No Misty and Bonbon directing my every move. No Robin guiding my course selections or asking to see my latest test results. Just magic training, whenever I want it.

Which is every day, since I decided to stay in Dreamland.

I stroll through the halls of Dreamlake, wearing my same patchwork-style outfits I’ve been favoring for the last week. I’ve been painting again since I’ve been here, too, the creativity spilling out onto my canvases and also onto my clothing. Whatever I tapped into in Anyland, and unlocked fully in Everland—getting back to that part of myself I hadn’t seen in so long—is still with me here.

“Hey, Barbie,” calls a girl with dark hair tied up, dark skin, and a glowing pen she twirls between her fingers as she walks by, on her way to first lecture. I met Laurie one of my first days here. She’s taking writing classes, and she sparked to a pen that she’s infused with her own magic.

Now she writes everything that comes into her brain. A few days ago, she gave me some pages of her latest work, and I stayed up all night reading them.

“Hey, Laurie.” I smile at her. “Let me know when you’re done with that book; I need to know the ending!”

“Will do!” she says over her shoulder before turning into a classroom.

I skip down the marble steps, all the way to the first floor, which is currently abuzz with the energy of the Dream Team, a group of athletes who work together using their magic and accessories to try to get across the lake every morning. They don’t compete against each other; they work together to beat their previous times.

“Two seconds faster than last week!” a boy named Ian with tan skin and slicked-back hair tells me. His accessory is a glove on his hand that funnels power through each finger.

“That’s amazing!” I say, beaming. He grins back before I make my way through the celebration, out of the arch, and over to the training grounds.

A few other students are here. There’s no start or end time. People come and go. Mentors like Lune check in on our progress.