Straight On Till Morning (Disney Twisted Tales) - Liz Braswell Page 0,72
off from the rest of Never Land, in what looked like an infinite desert.
Wendy carefully stepped back to the point she had mentally marked before, knowing full well it might be important later. Three red stones in increasing size were lined up like a fallen desert sandman. A scrubby little black and matte turquoise bush with two pom-pom-like appendages grew nearby. There were her footprints coming out of nowhere. Beginning the journey. She bent over, trying to feel a hint of moist air, of cool sea breeze, of pungent jungle funk.
But of course there was nothing.
Tinker Bell zipped around back and forth above Wendy, trying to see what she was seeing. Then she flew a little farther out, to the left and right and front and back with the neat, almost unnatural motions of a dragonfly hunting. Actually, she was hunting. For a way out.
“Anything?” Wendy asked, trying to keep the hope out of her voice.
Tinker Bell shrugged, shook her head, and jingled sadly.
“Maybe…Look, I know you don’t want to disrespect this place, but the First seem to have abandoned us to our fates. For now. Maybe it would be all right if you just flew up—really high—into the air? And looked around?”
Tinker Bell nodded reluctantly.
She took a big, dramatic breath and rose into the pale sky. Wendy had to shade her eyes with her hand to see the fairy at all against the brightness. High, higher still, higher than a kite. Eventually she disappeared.
While Wendy knew her friend’s invisibility was just a trick of distance and the limitation of her own eyesight, she couldn’t help fretting. She shuffled her feet and bit her lip until the fairy reappeared, falling down on the exact same path she had taken up with the inevitability and determination of an acorn freed from its twig. Wendy held out her hand, and the tiny girl landed on it with obvious gratitude.
“Anything?”
Tinker Bell shook her head, looking perplexed. She pointed: north, east, south, west, or whatever passed for them in this strange land. She put a hand to her head, much like Wendy had when watching for her, and mimed looking far out in each direction, frowning and squinting. Then she shrugged again.
“It just goes on and on, in every direction?”
Forever. Just that big muddy plateau in front of us—that is the only feature in any distance.
“But…we saw boundaries to it when we flew down,” Wendy protested, not arguing with her friend so much as with reality. “It wasn’t so big, this area. It only covered a tiny portion of the island.”
Tinker Bell gave her a look.
“All right, all right, I know we’re not dealing with normal forces here.” Wendy sighed. “After telling us that we need to save Never Land, and soon, the First abandoned and trapped us here. One can only assume they think we can find our way out. It’s some sort of test.
“So let’s think about this logically. Their demesne seems to continue forever. It’s all outside, beyond us. But where did the First go? I don’t see any of those monoliths—er, I guess you would see mud piles—in any direction far away from us. They are only in the middle distance. So perhaps…perhaps there is someplace inward they go. Or downward. Yes, that seems rather backward and Never Land-y. What do you think, Tinker Bell?”
The fairy shrugged and nodded, pursing her lips. Like: sure, sounds as good as anything at this point.
“All right then, let’s head over to those cliffs over there. Maybe there’s a secret canyon that burrows deep into their lair. Race you!” Wendy raised her arms to fly.
Nothing happened.
“Up now! Happy thoughts!”
Her feet remained firmly planted on the ground.
Tinker Bell frowned.
“Oh dear,” Wendy said.
The fairy spiraled up and down around the human girl, practically smothering her with fairy dust. Much of it was blown away on the harsh, hot breeze: thousands of sparkles spreading across the arid landscape in a cloud that grew taller and taller and more spread out as it dissipated into the air. “What a waste,” Wendy sighed.
She thought of all good things. Candy floss, the first scent of lilacs in the spring, a really nice day in the shade of the backyard tree with her notebook, Nana under her hand.
Still nothing happened.
“Either I’m terrified to the core of my soul by this place,” Wendy said thoughtfully, “or I can’t borrow your fairy magic here.”
Tinker Bell shook her head sorrowfully and patted her on the hand.