Perchance to Dream Read Online Free PDF Page A

marveled at their dejected countenances. “But I washed them just for you! Do you not clean your food?”
    “No,” said Moth. “Most people don’t. At least not like that.”
    “To heck with most people, I sure don’t,” said Cobweb. “You want to dunk them in jam, fine. Frosting, you don’t even have to ask. But water?”
    “I don’t even like to drink water, much less soak my food in it,” Mustardseed said.
    “All right, then.” Waschbär selected two more buns. The boys accepted them and retreated to the other side of the fire to share out the spoils while the sneak-thief sat back on his haunches, his musk more pronounced as the fire warmed his variety of furs. “What would you like to eat, Beatrice? Rough bread? Sharp cheese? Joint of roast mutton?”
    “This is fine.” Not wanting to appear rude or ungrateful, Bertie picked up a rosy red apple and took a tiny bite as she crossed to the improvised bench. Nate leaned against the log, looking wholly disapproving when Ariel moved closer. Now that the situation wasn’t dire, Bertie could appreciate the unfamiliar scent of the countryside: hay and campfire smoke and what she assumed was a distant cow. Stars winked into existence overhead, as though eager to keep an eye on her. “And you can call me Bertie. Unexpected use of Beatrice makes me think I’m in trouble.”
    “As you like, Bertie.” Waschbär studied her across the fire while his nimble fingers cracked nuts with a rapidity that defied logic. “So what thing is wanted here?”
    “Paper.” The bit of fruit stuck halfway down her throat, and Bertie had sudden sympathy for Snow White. “But not your average sort—”
    With a gleeful noise, he turned his pack completely over. Bits of twine threaded with shiny beads spilled out alongside a gold ring that gleamed with opal-fire. A glass vial scattered colored sand into the grass.
    Peaseblossom peered over his shoulder. “The ring is lovely.”
    Waschbär nodded as he polished it on the front of his shirt. “From the jewel cask of a castle on the Lightning Ridge.”
    “What’s with the sand?” Moth wanted to know.
    The sneak-thief let a bit dribble through his nimble fingers. “The sands of time.”
    Bertie would have reached for that, drawn by the glittering flecks of stone, but Ariel’s words caught her wandering attention.
    “The lady asked you for paper.”
    “There’s paper, and then there’s paper.” With a wink and a nod of acknowledgment, Waschbär tossed aside a piece of ragged silk to reveal a journal. The leather cover was tooled in designs that shifted with the firelight, and the thong closure held an ebony fountain pen against the edge of the pages….
    Pages that glowed.
    Nate cursed under his breath, then added, “Just like Th’ Book.”
    “Oh, my.” Bertie leaned forward to get a better look. “How could that be ‘unwanted’?”
    “Ah, that’s a story. That’s a story for certain!” Waschbär chortled. “Mayhap a wizard left it lying on a stone bench near his tower. Mayhap it fell from the pack of a scribe journeying to his holy land. Mayhap it was locked away in the darkest recesses of a dimly lit sanctuary.” He stroked the cover, softly, so as not to scratch it. “The trick is knowing when something is wanted and when it is not.”
    Even across the fire, Bertie could sense its power. “It’s wanted.”
    “Oh, yes?” The two words held the suggestion of countless deals brokered in sun-warmed marketplaces.
    “I would trade for it.”
    “Of course you would,” the sneak-thief said.
    “I have nothing,” she said, “to equal the value of such a thing.”
    “There are the usual promises,” Waschbär said. “A kiss.”
    Caught between Nate and Ariel, Bertie’s cheeks flamed. “Kisses are nothing but trouble.”
    The fairies jeered. “I thought you said boys were nothing but trouble.”
    “Yes, and who do you think she’s kissing, stupid? Certainly not the fence posts!”
    “Your hand in