Chapter 8 Afraid and Doing It Anyway
Afraid and Doing It Anyway
The world is bleeding pink.
I’m hurtling through a waterfall of stars, galaxies that look like every shade of my closet, until finally, the boat gives a series of jolting lurches, almost like it’s trying to spit me out, and I’m catapulted forward, cartwheeling through the swirling vastness.
My scream echoes all around me as I plummet downward, my stomach dropping out, my body flipping wildly, until I crash against something hard—
Ground.
My bones jolt with the impact. It takes a few moments for me to move at all, and I’m lucky I didn’t break anything, though my limbs feel like they’ve all been pulled in different directions. I groan into a faceful of—
Flowers?
I lift my head, just in time to see the boat fade to a tiny dot of pink in the distance, off on its own adventure.
And then I see a pair of monstrous hooves thundering toward me.
Move! the voice in my head says, and yeah, good idea, I think, before I roll away, barely missing them.
I’m still on my back, panting, when a gigantic head fills my vision. My eyes widen. It’s a beast, it’s a monster, it’s a—
I scramble to my feet, only to see it’s a… horse?
I’ve only ever seen one illustrated in books. And this creature is far bigger than it appeared in those pages. It towers over me, its fur a deep, rich brown, with a streak of white between its brows. Braids drip down its side.
It leans down to huff in my face. Panic grips my bones.
Reading something and living it are two completely different things. My mind races, trying to remember… do horses’ diets happen to include a girl who recently graduated without a Fate and disobeyed every single rule she’s been taught since she was a kid?
Apparently, no—since after a long, unblinking moment, the horse just chuffs and turns away.
And a guy who looks to be around my age slips off the horse’s side.
He has tan skin with a warm glow and a dusting of freckles, like he spends a lot of time outside. He’s wearing jeans, a red-checkered shirt, and a wide-brimmed hat. He tilts his head at me and says, “Did you just fall out of the sky?”
I look to my left and right and am met with wave after wave of flowers in every shade of the sunset: red, orange, yellow, some with all the colors pooled together, as if painted in a coat of warm flames.
I swallow. Yes, I’m definitely not in Heartland anymore.
“I guess?”
All at once, I remember the danger, the fact that my mother died because of what sat beyond our borders. My muscles clench. I should have brought something to defend myself with—even if I don’t know how to use anything sharper than a pen.
But the guy just nods. “Cool.” He outstretches his hand. “I’m Ken.”
I look at his hand. Then at him. I’m still on the ground.
He doesn’t falter. He just keeps smiling at me.
Slowly, I lift one hand, wincing at the lingering ache from my fall. “I’m Barbie.”
He takes my hand, then gently pulls to help me up. I’m on my feet in a moment.
I stumble back, still looking at him warily. “Where am I?” I finally ask. “Is this… Dreamland?”
Ken shakes his head. “No. This is Summerland.”
Summerland? Like… the season? The weather is balmy. The sky is clear, giving the sun plenty of room to stretch its rays across the fields of flowers. A light breeze rustles them all around us, in a soothing swell.
It’s beautiful… but this isn’t where I’m supposed to be. Panic rises in me like a tide, poisoning my thoughts.
I took Robin’s necklace. I got in a flying boat and went through the mists. I didn’t stop, even when Robin begged me to. She must be furious.
And now… I’m in another land.
But it’s the wrong one.
The flying boat is long gone. How am I even going to get to Dreamland from Summerland?
This was a mistake. And Robin’s not here to fix it. I’m alone, in a strange world, without my friends. Why would I question my guardian?
All I’ve ever been is a student, and this is proof of how little I know outside school. The fearlessness I felt back in Heartland is long gone, just like my way out of here. If I could erase the last few moments—
“She looks upset,” Ken says. He’s talking to his horse, about me, like I’m not even here.
The horse just huffs in response.
“I don’t know what to say to her!” he exclaims. And again, I’m right here.
Another huff.
“Fine.” Ken shifts toward me. “Are you… having an existential crisis?”
I frown. “No,” I snap. Though… maybe. I shake my head. Panic isn’t going to get me anywhere. I need to find a solution. I take a deep breath and lift my chin, trying to look confident. “Is there someone in Summerland who might know how I can get to Dreamland?”
Ken purses his lips. He looks at his horse. His horse looks back at him. They both seem to have some sort of conversation, because finally, Ken turns to me and says, “The Archivist might be able to help.”
“Who?”
He points toward the horizon. All I see are endless flowers. “She lives on the beach, on the other side of Summerland. She collects everything strange that washes ashore. If anyone knows about another world… it’s her.” He motions up. “Jump on. Sandy and I will take you.”
I stare up at the horse—Sandy—who stares back at me with an expression that I can only describe as thoroughly unimpressed. “I’ve never ridden a horse before.”
Ken just shrugs a shoulder. “Now’s always a great time to start.”
I bite the inside of my mouth. Sandy still hasn’t blinked this entire time. The horse is staring me down, as if in challenge.
Ken sighs. “Don’t mind her. She’s just mad you ruined her favorite flowers.”
I turn, only to see a me-shaped imprint on a patch of pink tulips. “Oh… sorry…” I say to Sandy, who just harrumphs.
“Here,” Ken says, gesturing toward the saddle. “This is the stirrup. You’re going to put your foot here”—he demonstrates—“then swing yourself over.” He demonstrates that too, gracefully bringing one leg over the other side of the horse. He makes it look easy.
I look down at my outfit and frown.
One of my heels is broken. The bows in my hair are hanging down. My previously perfectly pressed dress is covered in dirt, and some of the threads are ripped up.
Clearly, I’m unprepared. I had no idea what an adventure like this might entail. The greatest journey I’ve been on before now was the short boat ride to the border canals to watch the Heart Races with Callie and Sunny.
These definitely aren’t the best clothes for horseback riding. Or for literally anything other than prancing around a school.
Then change, I think. But… I’m in the middle of a field of flowers. I don’t exactly have Wardrobe. Unfortunately.
I reach up to rub my necklace, the way I do when I need to settle myself, feeling the “R” necklace nestled alongside my own, and—
The pink glow they cast was definitely magic. How else would I have gotten through the mist?
Maybe the necklaces can help me now, too…
I won’t know until I try. And right now, I’m willing to try anything. I’m already Fateless and covered in dirt. I fell on my face in front of this horse. My self-consciousness is practically nonexistent.
Here goes probably nothing.
I clutch both charms in my fist, close my eyes, and think of Wardrobe, filled with rows and rows of clothes, and shelves of shoes, the outfits my mother made for me.
An outfit for every occasion.
“Whoa,” I hear, and open my eyes just as a flash of pink glitter cloaks me… before settling, revealing a completely new ensemble: pink jeans, a belt, a sparkling salmon jacket, and a rose-colored riding hat.
It actually worked.
I feel a heady rush that I was able to work a little magic—even if it’s, um, borrowed—just like I felt in the library, when I used Callie’s faeries.
My confidence comes crawling back. My spine straightens. I can use accessories. I deserve a Fate.
I just have to prove it to them.
“Cool,” Ken says, apparently his favorite word, seeming completely unfazed that I just used magic. Does magic exist here? Are there others in different lands who have powers like Robin?
Ken clears his throat and gestures toward the stirrup.
Fear flurries in my stomach as I look up at Sandy, because all of this is new. I’ve spent my entire life at Swancrest, and it’s been a great one, but most of my travels have happened in my mind. Through books. Studies.
I always avoided anything that made me feel afraid. Up until recently, I practically ran from anything that even hinted at negativity.
But now, I’m thinking fear has ruled me my whole life. Fear of failure, fear of letting Robin down, fear of never living up to my mother’s sacrifice. It made me obedient. It made me follow the rules of the box I was put in.
Now, for the first time…
I’m stepping out of it.
I’m not running away from discomfort, I’m running toward it.
I’m placing my foot into the metal of the stirrup. I’m pushing with all my might and swinging one jeans-clad leg over Sandy’s flank, even though my heart is racing and my mind is filled with all the ways this could end badly, and I’m still not sure where I’m supposed to grip the saddle.
I’m afraid… and I’m doing it anyway.
“Hold on!” Ken says, and we’re off.