Straight On Till Morning (Disney Twisted Tales) - Liz Braswell Page 0,58

we would have shaken on it. Or whatever it is dumb men do when they come to some dumb manly agreement.”

The fairy’s mouth tugged to the side in a snarky smile. She knew exactly what Wendy was talking about, the ridiculous gestures of a gender prone to extroversion.

“And then maybe you could have eventually introduced me to some fairy prince.…” Wendy said lightly, with a smile. “Just like my mother is always trying to get girls to introduce me to their brothers or cousins or whatever.”

At this Tinker Bell frowned and made a little gagging motion, sticking her finger on her tongue.

“No, I suppose there’s a reason you spend time with Peter and the Lost Boys, and not males of the fey kind,” Wendy said, laughing. “Perhaps they are as boring to you as London boys are to me. Anyway, without Peter—or you—I had to find my way here myself. I didn’t understand the cost or consequences. I’m getting my adventure finally, even if it’s not exactly the one I wanted. I just wish—I really, really wish—we could travel together more as friends. I’m not your enemy, Tinker Bell. If I had known about you, I would have been your greatest fan.”

Tinker Bell was silent. For once her face and body were unreadable, an enigma.

“Anyway, we should probably get going,” Wendy finished, a little lamely. She already felt like she had pulled a real Wendy, talking too much, revealing too much, feeling too much. All in the open.

But Tinker Bell still seemed frozen in thought. Almost as if once Wendy had got her thinking about things she had never considered before she couldn’t easily give them up, like a cat worrying a toy.

“You should probably lead,” Wendy added politely, “Since I have no idea where we are going.”

The fairy tipped her head back and took the human in, as if really looking at her for the first time. She paused for a moment in what appeared to be a new thought, judging by the spark in her eyes.

“What is it?” Wendy asked.

Tinker Bell opened her mouth. Widely. Very widely. Wider than it seemed should have been possible for such a tiny creature. Wendy couldn’t help noticing familiar, almost mermaid-ish rows of sharp, perfectly white teeth. Was every resident of Never Land equipped with such weapons? Such mouths? How dangerous was this place?

“I don’t know what you…”

Tinker Bell closed her mouth, then opened it again widely and pointed at Wendy.

“You want me to… ?” Wendy asked, opening her own mouth—but not quite as wide as Tinker Bell had. She was a little self-conscious. Mother and Father had always told her to chew with her mouth closed, of course, and ladies didn’t yawn or speak while eating, at least not without hiding behind a properly gloved set of fingers.

But she opened up a little wider, seeing the fairy’s growing impatience and fearing her retribution.

“Ike ish?” she asked.

In answer, the fairy shook her wings and spun—hurling a stream of fairy dust directly onto Wendy’s tongue.

What Wendy felt was a spray of something that could only be described as golden. Light, effervescent, slightly dry. Fizzy, like the horrible mineral waters Mother sometimes made Father take to aid his digestion. But not with the terrible metallic taste. For the brief moment she could taste anything at all, it was sweet—or no, maybe sour like lemons. No, not that, either—more like sparks from a fire.

All too soon it was gone, down her throat or up her nose or dissipated into her flesh and brain.

A wave crashed through her body starting in her sinuses. She was frozen all over, and then sweating and shuddering, but in the next moment felt like herself again.

“What was—thank you—why did you—”

Tinker Bell jingled.

Can you understand me?

“Yes, of course, but what did you just…Wait, what?”

Just like that, like nothing at all, everything the fairy said made sense. Like it had always made sense when taken all together: her jingles, her wing flutters, her eye movements…The human girl just hadn’t been able to understand it before.

“Your…dust,” Wendy said slowly. “Somehow it allows me to understand you. The way everyone else can.”

Tinker Bell shrugged and did a slow spiral in the air, apparently now bored with the conversation. She zoomed up to a palm leaf to examine a bug there: something like the unicorn beetles but with an iridescent rainbow mane that fluttered in the breeze. She jingled quietly and nuzzled it.

“Well, this will make things a lot easier,” Wendy said happily. Did the