Perchance to Dream Read Free

right?!”
    “Y-yes!” And it was true; she’d suffered no ill effects, other than a near heart attack caused by Nate’s sudden and incomplete manifestation.
    “What were you thinking?” The air elemental looked her over as though cataloguing her limbs. He was as angry as she’d ever heard him, perhaps even more so than when she’d placed the collar around his neck; then he’d been livid and broken, now he was furious and free, floating nearly a foot aboveground with his hair whipping about his face and shoulders.
    But he had neither noticed Nate nor acknowledged him, and surely Ariel would have done so …
    If he could see him.
    The fairies flew through the pirate with only wing spasms and random commentary about the sudden chill to mark their spectral passage. Discomfited, Bertie twitched away from Ariel.
    “Kindly cease your attentions most solicitous, sir, I’m fine.”
    The glint of Nate’s earring was the reflection of candlelight on a dagger drawn. He and Ariel had never been friendly; their more recent history had been a duel of sharp words and warning looks. “She means keep yer hands to yerself, ye poxy smellsmock.”
    Bertie choked back a laugh at the insult, and when Nate grinned at her, the brilliant flash of his teeth caused Ariel’s breath to catch.
    “Did you see that?” The words contained a cool breeze, the sort that held the promise of snow as the air elemental scanned the night-painted landscape.
    Moth lifted his nose. “She must have managed something … there’s salt in the air.”
    Ariel took a step forward and Nate’s expression shifted from amused to feral, swifter than any of the scene changes at the theater. As his lip raised in an unmistakable snarl, Bertie hastened to say, “But it didn’t work, did it? No pirate to be seen here.”
    Turning back to her, Ariel’s features relaxed. “I’m sorry.”
    “You are?” She couldn’t help but sound surprised.
    “You should try something else.” When he trailed his fingers along her cheek, a gesture somehow more intimate than a kiss, Nate growled.
    “Maybe something to right the caravan?” Peaseblossom suggested.
    “No need for that.” Retracing his steps, Ariel moved to the opposite side of the sad conveyance. He squelched a bit, the ghostwater having settled into ruts and pooled in the grass. “All of you, keep clear of the wheels.” When he held out his arms, moonlight gathered in his silver hair. The winds collected in his palms, and he used them to lift both wagon and horses from the ground. Unperturbed, the horses’ glowing amber eyes blinked slowly, the light slanting down the length of their silver-metal muzzles.
    “Show-off,” Nate said as everything settled in its usual upright position.
    Indeed, Ariel rounded the caravan, checking the cart and horses for damage but flashing a triumphant smile at Bertie as he did so.
    “Now that’s taken care of,” said Mustardseed, “can’t someone conjure a few éclairs?”
    “Don’t be stupid,” Peaseblossom said. “If Bertie writes anything else, it should be something that’s actually useful, like kindling a fire.”
    Something in the distance howled. As one, the boys ceased their snack-clamoring, with Moth making the loudest demand of, “Yes, a fire, and make it a really big one, please.”
    Bertie tapped the tip of the fountain pen against the paper.
    “Careful wi’ that thing,” Nate whispered in her right ear, the words trickling in like raindrops, “or ye might accidentally scribble somethin’ that looks like a dragon attackin’ us.”
    “You shut up,” Bertie said with a flash of temper aimed at the pirate that missed and hit the air elemental.
    Ariel’s confusion manifested as a quirked eyebrow. “I didn’t say anything.”
    “A nice bit of lightning would get a fire going,” Cobweb said, oblivious to the pirate’s warning.
    “Yes,” Bertie said, desperately trying to suppress the urge to stick her finger in her ear, “and if I miss, we