This time, Lacey knew she was dreaming, although she couldn’t tell how. Unlike the other dreams, she felt calm and safe while lying in a bed under a candy-cane quilted coverlet. In contrast to the coverlet, the rest of the room looked like an Earth-type hospital. White, with a monitor beeping somewhere above her head. It was a bit confusing, because she could still see a corner of the trunk Mathilda had under the bed sticking out on one side. Her foot ached, uncomfortably hot in the moonboot clamped around it.

  There was a knock on the door and it slid open. Oh, it’s Danji and them coming to chat, Lacey thought. But instead it was Cassie that walked through. She still looked exactly like the teenager Lacey remembered and somehow it wasn’t odd to see her at all.

  ‘Why did you do it, Cassie?’ she asked. ‘I just wanted to make Christmas come.’

  Cassie shrugged, looking around the room curiously, as if what had happened to Lacey had nothing to do with her.

  ‘So, this is where you went,’ she said. ‘I didn’t realise.’

  At her words, Lacey glanced around the room, but it just stayed a real-world hospital room. When she looked back, Cassie had disappeared and Peter stood in her place. He looked out of place with his red coat and black boots, against the clinical white backdrop of the room.

  He had his arms folded as he asked, ‘How long are you going to stay in here? You said we were going to walk the Ice Dove trail this afternoon.’

  ‘But Peter, I can’t,’ she responded. ‘See, I’m in hospital. Can we do it later?’

  He frowned. ‘Why did you choose this place? You’ll heal much faster in the Healing Hall.’

  Why had she chosen this place? She tried to think of a good-enough reason to explain her choice to Peter.

  ‘X-rays,’ was what she came up with. ‘We had to do an x-ray on my leg.’

  Her answer seemed to confuse him. ‘But didn’t you already know you were injured? Mathilda can heal it just as well.’

  She opened her mouth, but he turned away before she could speak.

  ‘I’d better go walk the trail,’ he said.

  ‘No, wait for me, I’m coming!’ she called out as he walked through the door.

  But the moonboot was so large that she struggled to get it out from underneath the blankets. It thumped onto the floor, so heavy that she could barely drag her leg behind her.

  ‘Off,’ she spoke to herself. ‘I need to take this off.’

  But she couldn’t, because she was injured and her foot needed the support. Fear of removing the too-heavy boot keeping her ankle safe clashed with the sight of Peter walking out the door without her.

  And then she woke up, the morning light shimmering through the curtains of her room in the Healing Hall. She had slept the rest of the afternoon through the whole of night.

  Propelled by the dream, she sat up and pushed the blankets off her leg. The moonboot was normal-sized. She lifted her leg experimentally. It had a bit of weight, but nothing that would prevent her from moving about.

  At that moment Mathilda came walking in, pushing the door open backwards before swivelling around with the tray in her hands. A little tinge of fear pinged in Lacey’s chest at the sight of her, still wrapped in the atmosphere of her dream. What did dream-Peter mean by saying Mathilda can heal it just as well? Her ankle was still as sore as when she twisted in during their escape from the abominable snowman, maybe even more so this morning. Although, Mathilda had stabilised it with the Earth moonboot after Peter had cut off the original boot when they’d arrived at the Healing Hall.

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  Seeing Lacey with her moonbooted-leg in the air, Mathilda ordered in her firmest Nurse Mathilda voice, ‘Put that leg back down on the bed, missy. You’ll go nowhere until I’m happy with your ankle.’

  ‘Yes Mathilda,’ Lacey meekly assented. She already knew not to argue when Mathilda was in mother-hen mode. Besides, the tray in Mathilda’s hands had her curious. It was laden with heaping bowls.

  Pulling the mistletoe-embroidered cloth that covered it all away with a flourish, she proudly announced, ‘Gingerbread porridge, with sides of cranberry sauce, along with smoked ham and turkey slices.’

  ‘That looks great! But it can’t all be for me – I’d never be able to finish it.’

  ‘Good thing I’m here then,’ Peter replied as he walked in with two mugs of steaming hot chocolate in his hands. ‘I asked Mathilda to help us with a good breakfast, while you and I square away a few last things about Jinxy’s mystery.’

  His sudden entrance caught her off guard, her heart briefly beating an anxious flutter in her chest. He seemed larger than life, the way he had in the Wasteland when he’d rescued her. It was like worlds clashing. They weren’t isolated all by themselves anymore.

  She didn’t know what to do. Did she treat him as she did Wasteland-Peter, or did she keep him at arms’ length she had before when they were both in the village, working safely on the mystery. If she embraced what they’d had in the Wasteland, everyone would know and everything would change. How would Mathilda see her? Cynthie’s remark on the Ice Dove trail would become justified. Would the elves think less of her? She’d become out of place, a round peg in the square holes she'd carefully carved. Claustrophobia pressed down on her as she forced a deep breath into her constricting chest.

  She forced a light smile onto her face, trying to act as normal as she could. ‘That’s a great idea. Let’s get to work then.’

  Mathilda gave her a knowing little grin before walking out. Feeling exposed, Lacey gave what she hoped looked like a small, natural nod. The door clicked closed behind her, leaving Lacey and Peter alone in the room.

  Peter pulled up a chair while she lifted the plates and began dishing for them, the smell of ginger from the porridge diffusing into the air.

  ‘This smells divine,’ she said, hoping he wouldn’t hear the edge in her voice.

  ‘After two days in the Wasteland on rations? You bet I got Mathilda to make us the best breakfast I could think of.’

  He speared a couple of ham and turkey slices, adding them to a side plate.

  ‘Oh yes, rations? You make a good point,’ Lacey said. ‘Although, the food was pretty good until my supply ran out.’

  Mentioning the origin of her food, her eyes widened. It had come from Mathilda’s pantry. How much had she taken? She hoped Mathilda wasn’t mad about it.

  ‘Worried about the food you liberated from Mathilda?’ Peter quietly asked, reaching forward straight through the barrier she’d created, to lay his hand open on the bed. An invitation to place her hand in his.

  She felt a spike of fear, as she realised what this reminded her off. It was Cassie. Cassie had invited her to be her best friend. And she had accepted with no reservations only to have the thing she valued most of all ripped away. But, of course, he was no Cassie. He would never intentionally do that to her.

  The knowledge didn’t stop the emotions warring within her, though. Still, she wanted to keep the safe, cosiness they had discovered out in the Wasteland. She craved what he was offering. Pressing back against the fear in her chest, she tried to reach for his hand, but it was too much.

  She pulled her hand away, before she even realised what she was doing, curling her fingers against her chest. Surprised, Peter looked at her. He drew his hand back as well, a flicker of hurt in his eyes.

  ‘Lacey?’ he asked.

  Her chest ached at the uncertainty in his voice. She wanted to tell him that nothing had changed, that she still felt exactly the same way she felt in the Wasteland. Because she did. But, everything, from Cassie to Mathilda to Peter pressed in on her, the moonboot around her leg suddenly unbearably tight.

  ‘About Jinxy,’ she said, grasping for an escape and finding it in the thing that had started it all. ‘We have to reveal what had happened to her. Everyone’s been so worried, they need to know.’

  Peter placed his bowl on the nightstand, the porridge inside uneaten. For a heartbeat it looked like he was going to say something else. Uncomfortable silence bloomed between them, separating her even further than she had wanted to be. He closed his eyes, before looking away, gazing over her at the ceiling, before shaking his head and leaning back while crossing his arms.

  ‘Do we know what happened to her?’ he asked. His gaze was suddenly hard, his voice false, like he knew this was a charade. But, he was the village guard and he needed to prioritise Jinxy’s plight above his own feelings.

  She couldn’t meet his eyes, so she stared down at the candy-cane coverlet instead. Fighting the urge to break down and confess all she was feeling, she kept her focus on Jinxy. Jinxy’s disappearance had to be resolved. And if it bought her a little processing time, she would make that bargain even though she could tell her actions had hurt him.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘We know. Could you call everyone together at the Reindeer Common room in a few hours once I’m steadier on my feet? It’s time to lay this mystery to rest.’

  ??????