Page 99 of Barbie: Dreamscape

Instead of letting fear overtake me, I pour myself full of peace.

I think of my mother and how she was still able to leave pieces of herself behind after she was gone. How her armor was a reminder of her bravery. How that memory of her in the forest with the spiders was an insight into her refusal to be turned away or labeled. How she contained multitudes and became whatever she wanted to be.

Only now do I realize she didn’t make me every outfit for every profession because she wanted me to have a uniform for whatever role I was given—

She wanted me to be all of them.

This journey has turned me into an alchemist—able to turn sadness into strength. Rejection into redirection. Failure into freedom.

Now I’ve become a beacon of all the good things I’ve witnessed, all the transformations I’ve been part of, all the changes I now welcome.

My fingers brush against the cold scales of the snake—

And they turn back into stone.

Something in my heart ignites—a flame refusing to be snuffed out.

Part of my suppressed magic has broken free.

My hand reaches up toward the chandelier about to crush me.

The crystal turns into a swarm of butterflies that flit upward toward the top of the staircase.

Now, on to the knights. Their swords are cleaving toward my head, but I don’t reach for my own. I just reach out. I press my palms to the flat side of one of the knight’s blades—and it collapses into pieces that stumble down the stairs before being caught along the errant pieces of steps. I resume my sliding, palms out, skimming the knights’ metal with my fingers as I pass and watching them break apart and tumble.

Until there is only quiet.

No more gargoyles melt through the walls. There is a light in me suppressing them.

Hope in my heart and strength in my soul, I lean into the forward motion of the sliding stairs. I can almost feel Robin’s magic in the air, a heaviness to it that I couldn’t sense through her apparition in my room. Coppery instead of sweet. Shadowy instead of bright.

Fell magic.

I try to fan the flames within me, give them kindling, rally more of my own power in response… but the closer I get, the more that glimmer of fire begins to weaken. Even the pink glow of the shield and sword from my mother dim. Robin’s not only smothering my own power…

But her best friend’s.

There’s no turning back. My body slides down one final set of smooth stone steps—

Then comes to a stop.

I’m at the very bottom of the school, in its darkest underbelly, the old armory.

And there, floating at the very center of the metal weapons, is Robin.

Fate Isn’t Final

My breath freezes in my chest. Robin’s eyes are just blown-out pupils, dark as night, as if the shadows have bled into her mind. Her perfect hair whips around her in wild locks. She’s strung in the air by countless shadows, fell magic spilling out of her.

It’s the first time I’ve been in her presence—the real her, not her shadow—since I learned of all her deceit and treachery.

But for some reason… I’m not angry.

Robin lied to me about everything. She lied to all the people of Heartland. She’s put us in danger.

But when I see her…

I remember that little girl in the haunted house, cloaked in darkness. Alone and brokenhearted.