EXCOLO

Hermia's shaking me. I crack an eye open and shut it again.

"'S early," I say fretfully. I can tell by the light in the room. I didn't get in until 2, and so I'm not in the mood for waking up right now... But Hermia persists, and I struggle into a sitting position.

"Yes, my dear?" I think I sound remarkably tolerant.

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"I know, darling, and I'm sorry to wake you up," I say, with earnest sympathy. I soften it with a kiss to his cheek, too, despite my worry. "But something very very strange is happening. Could you - er - could you stand up?"

And then I realize just how odd that will sound, so…oh dear, I will have to show him. Very carefully, I wriggle over to his side of the bed and ease off of it - and hover.

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"Stand up?" This is far too complicated a conversation to have before coffee. Then Hermia slides off the bed... and hovers above the floor.

"My dear," I say, startled, "that's very impressive, is that something you've learned with your magic?"

I turn and put my foot down on the floor to step out of bed... But it doesn't touch the carpet, just hovers there. I push down, and meet resistance.

"Oh," I say. "How... odd."

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Poor Valmont. He looks terribly confused and sleepy, and I do wish I could have let him sleep, but I just couldn't!

But seeing me floating wakes him up very quickly.

"My dear," I say, startled, "that's very impressive, is that something you've learned with your magic?"

"No! I didn't mean to do it, and i haven't been working on anything remotely similar to it. It - it just happened!"

And then…he floats too.

"Oh," I say. "How... odd."

"You see?" My mind races, trying to sort through what could have caused it. "I've already called Chester. It isn't anything to do with the floor, or with gravity - see, Nestor isn't floating, and neither is any of the furniture. And - " I reach over to grab a coin from the pile of change on Valmont's nightstand, and drop it. It falls with a clink. "You see? It's just us." I take a wobbly, hesitant step - and it's as if I'm stepping on a cushion several inches above the ground. "I haven't any idea how this could happen!"

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"This is very strange," I say, alarmed, and struggle to get up. I lose my balance and slip - but don't hit the ground. Which is a blessing, but trying to struggle to my feet with nothing to press down against is harder than I would think. Eventually I manage it, and I too am floating. "I wonder..." I lift my foot, and I rise higher, so I'm hovering a foot or so above the floor. I scratch my head.

"I should check on Alice," I say, and do my best to walk to the bedroom door and open it - and step through into a dark, chilly parlour that smells of coke burning.

"You," I say, with unreserved loathing, looking at the woman sitting in the chair by the fireplace, "what are you doing here?"

"C'est ma maison, n'est-ce pas?"

"I suppose it is," I murmur, then shout back through the bedroom door. "Hermia, my mother appears to be here."

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Valmont trips, and my hands fly out to catch him - but he hovers! He doesn't fall; he doesn't hit the ground. He just climbs higher. What is going on?

"I should check on Alice,"

"Of course," I agree quickly - but as soon as he opens the door, a rush of chilly air comes in, and a strange smell…and strange voices, too.

"Hermia, my mother appears to be here."

"Your what?"

I hardly think before I start to run. It's only a few steps - and no, I do not fall, but I do not touch the ground either - and my heart thumps when I step through the door.

It's cold and dark and cramped, and that choking smell in the air grows so strong that it nearly turns my stomach. This is not our house.

Dear gods, what is happening?

The woman sitting by the fireplace is remarkably young - how old was she when she had Valmont? And how cold she must have been, to look at her own son like that….and to make Valmont look at her like that, too?

What is this?

…is she a ghost? Are we ghosts?

I cannot be dead! Panic rises in me as the thought sinks in. We cannot leave Alice! This cannot be what being dead is like, and even if Valmont and I have somehow been carried off in the night, how can we be dead? And…

No.

If I am dead, how can I still be pregnant? The smell would not make me feel sick if I were not, and when my fingers brush over my belly they still feel the little roundness that has started to grow.

I reach up to take Valmont's hand - but to do that, I must climb higher, and oh dear, now I'm nearly a foot above the floor.

"Darling," I say, low and firm, squeezing his hand, "I don't know what this is, but we will fix it" And then I clear my throat, and say, "Bonjour, Madame?"

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I smile a little at Hermia, because she's still so polite. I step further into the dark room, though every part of me rebels against it - I left here so long ago, intending never to return - and find that I can now put my feet on the floor. Hermia is still hovering above me.

"Of course you married above your station," says my mother, "but I did not think you would be so literal," and she laughs, a hard sound. I reach up for Hermia's hand, and tug her back into the bedroom, shut the door firmly. As soon as I cross the threshold I float up again.

"This," I say, "is not good."

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Her voice is sharp, rough, vicious. No parent should ever talk to a child like that! I am nearly about to snap back at her when Valmont pulls me back.

The door closes on that strange dark room, and it is as if the world grows brighter when it does, and Valmont floats up to meet me again.

"No," I agree quietly. "And we'll fix it. We must. If we can't go out there, I'll see what spells I can do with the materials I have in here. I'll call Chester again, and tell him how urgent this is - perhaps he can find us another route around the sitting room? We have to see if Alice is all right!"

And then I add more gently, "Oh, my dearest, I'm sorry," as I wrap my arms around him. "Is that what she was really like?"

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"She was - is - much worse than that," I say grimly. "I have no idea if she's alive or dead," I add, "and if that woman in there is her, or a ghost, or a - figment of my imagination. Do you suppose we're dreaming again?" I say, startled, though if we are, even dealing with my mother is better than being lost in a wood. I kiss Hermia's hair gently, and then drift open to the window and push it open.

"I suppose if it comes to it, we can get out this way," I say.

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"She was - is - much worse than that,"

"I'm sorry," I whisper again, hugging Valmont fiercely tight. "You're away from her. You're safe. Even if it really is her, and not just a ghost or vision, you're safe now."

"I have no idea if she's alive or dead," I add, "and if that woman in there is her, or a ghost, or a - figment of my imagination. Do you suppose we're dreaming again?"

"We might be?" I venture slowly. "I've often had dreams where I'm floating or flying. And…people from our past do show up in dreams. But we are awake. And this is our room - we are not caught in the woods. And…" And there is Nestor in the corner, snarling and pawing in his sleep. In a dream.

If the world has become dreams - or dreams are coming into the world - then what are we to do? My heart thumps again with rising fear - but I have no time for fear. Only time to work. "I need to find Noma. Or someone else from the abbey." I'm already speaking by the time Valmont pushes open the window. Yes. We have to get out.

I start walking over to the window - how odd; I am moving but do not feel as if I am walking at all. Just like a dream, in fact.

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I nod at what Hermia says.

"That sounds like a good idea," and then I catch at Hermia's arm as she moves purposefully toward the window. "My dear?" I say. "Charming as you look now, perhaps we should get dressed?"

It's quite strange to dress when hovering, but I manage to get something on. I do hate leaving the house unshaven, but never mind...

"Come, then," I say. "I'll climb out first and help you down. Assuming we don't just float out there..."

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"Right," I agree, feeling my cheeks turn pink. If the rest of the town is not dreaming, then perhaps it would not do for us to be going about in our nightclothes.

I pull on clothes as quickly as possible - a dress that is starting to get a bit snug about the middle, but I have no time to go searching for what fits and what does not - and brush my hair into a little more order. My mind races as I dress. Noma. Nanse-kam. Someone at the abbey. Who else might be able to help? Lydia? Glass? What did Valmont tell me about the last time everyone was caught in a dream? And where is Chester?

"Come, then," I say. "I'll climb out first and help you down. Assuming we don't just float out there…"

"All right," I nod, as I hover near the window, waiting for Valmont to go first. "If we don't float, it will be easier for you to go first," I admit, with a little wrinkle of my nose.

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Woman with a mood like a mouthful of nettles takes it on herself to turn aside the idea of letting me in, and as I've something better to do than pick a fight with her I swallow what I'd care to say, excuse myself, and go 'round the Whitechapel. Come to their room as Valmont's coming out the window, which suppose given the shrike at the door has some sense to't.

"Morning," I say. "Is-- oh, Hermia. Need your help, 'm thinking, if you c'n spare it?"

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"Hello, Glass," I say. "Just a moment," and I slide out. I'm still hovering above the ground, though just a couple of inches now. What a strange sensation. "Just let me help Hermia through," and I help her step down to somewhere near the ground.

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"Glass!" I call out the window. "Are you all right?"

There is absolutely no possible way to climb out a window in a decorous manner, especially without one's feet on the ground. I wriggle out as best I can, leaning on Valmont for balance, until I'm out. I stand up - still a few inches above the ground! -and straighten my dress.

"I'll give whatever help you need, but if you're in difficulty too, I fear that these problems may be bigger than I had thought."

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Well, that's a new thing. Nod to Valmont as he helps Hermia out.

"My daughter turned into a... plant," I say. "Rooted on my grave, in the graveyard out aback of the Dormouse." Look to the two of them. "I ought take it you aren't meaning to float like that?"

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"A plant?" I repeat, astonished. "And - your grave? But - " And then I catch myself again, and draw a breath, and start over.

"Right. No, we aren't trying to - to do this," I motion down at our floating feet, worry sharpening my voice. "I haven't the faintest idea how or why we're doing it. But this, and…the other things that have been happening in this house," I say a little more carefully, glancing over at Valmont with worried sympathy, "seem to suggest that dreams are creeping into the real world. And yours fits, too - a nightmare that you were dead, and your daughter had turned into a plant…it seems the sort of thing that might be in a dream. And if that is the case, we should go to the Abbey. And I will do whatever I can to get your daughter back," I add, my voice lowering with sincerity. "Whatever I can, to keep her safe." I glance up to the windows of the upper floor, murmuring, "I wonder if I could get high enough into Alice's window?"

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I could hear Hermia's call but when I tried to go to her it was like there was somethin' sticky holdin' me back but then it breaks and I pop out on the ground near a cluster of feet. and look up to find Glass standin' nearby an' Hermia an' valmont are floatin' just above the ground.

"H'lo, folks"

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...Wednesdays. Right, then.

"I know," I say to her word on my daughter, and it's a relief to call it truth. Follow her gaze up to the windows and consider.

"Well," I say, "can you hurt yourself, if you fall?" Worth trying, if not.

"H'lo folks," someone says low to the ground, and I look down.

"Morning, Chester. You some mind for why dreams'd be tearing themselves up over to the waking world?"

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I can sense Chester's arrival even before he appears, and I'm already breathing out a sigh of relief when he says, "H'lo folks,"

I bend awkwardly down, half stooping and half kneeling, to reach my arms out to him. I feel as if I should wobble, but I do not - and yet I do not want to try to kneel on the air either for fear that I would fall. "Chester! Oh, I'm glad you're here! Yes - there seems to be something amiss with dreams," I agree to Glass. "Have you heard anything, seen anything, that might suggest what's happening?"

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Glass is the first to say somethin' an it takes me a moment to sort out what she's askin'. Then Hermia is bendin' down to reach out to me and I scoot on over to her.

Now that I'm here I c'n feel the way the dreams're bleedin' out into this realm. I shake my head in answer to Hermia's question. Things're fine over in the elemental planes. I look over to Glass.

"Someone mighta torn a hole 'tween the dreamrealm n'this one."

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"Have you heard anything, seen anything, that might suggest what's happening?"

"Nothing particular," I say, turning matters over to my mind. "Sets out why this," gesture to the feathers of my cloak, "isn't hiding me from sight, though." That was only ever something it did in the waking world. And, considering, sets out why it's warm as blood. That's what wove it up, after all (http://estdeus-innobis.livejournal.com/467504.html#t11724080).

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Come up and 'round, hurrying a little, and when I see my way clear to the back door I stop and blink a moment and then look back and around; and yes, for all I'm seeing, this is yet Excolo. It's only this small part of it that's taken itself to looking like Dunwich.

Well enough, and take myself up to knock on the door, and if it's Westin that opens I suppose next I'll take myself down to where he ought be, and see if Hermia's there instead...

Edited Date: 2013-03-17 11:48 pm (UTC)

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"Someone mighta torn a hole 'tween the dreamrealm n'this one." Oh, bloody perfect (http://estdeus-innobis.livejournal.com/467504.html#t11722032).

"Can you say if it's done by accident or intent?" I say. "As given the last time dreams had some particular weight," I say, "there was intent, and it wasn't bloody kind. And I'd care t'know if we're seeing that again." As last time I bloody died of it.

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Glass's daughter is a plant? I cast a worried look at Hermia, thinking of our child inside her... And then Chester appears. For once I'm pleased to see the furry fellow. He suggests someone has torn a hole between dream and reality.

"But how can dreams just walk around?" I say, running a hand through my hair. "That's quite different to when we were all dreaming - yes, the dreams were dangerous, but in reality we were still in our beds." I look at how I'm hovering. "This is very strange. The abbey seems like a good place to consult," I add. "Should we bring anything with us? Supplies? Weapons?" I'd prefer to be prepared for any eventualities.

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I scoop Chester up and hold him close to me, drawing comfort from his familiar weight in my arms, even if his words bring me no reassurance at all.

"Someone mighta torn a hole 'tween the dreamrealm n'this one."

"Can you say if it's done by accident or intent?" I say. "As given the last time dreams had some particular weight," I say, "there was intent, and it wasn't bloody kind. And I'd care t'know if we're seeing that again."

"That's one of the things that we can try to find out," I say to Glass. "And who did it, of course. Whether it was intended or not, there are very few people or creatures who have the power to do that." I glance over to the Tower, where it looms in the distance above the town. Very few creatures, and the thing in the Tower is at the top of the list.

Only when Glass gestures to her cloak does it catch my attention fully, and only then do I notice that there is something...odd about it. "The cloak is supposed to hide you? How? Where did you get it?" If magic is going wrong, then my options are going to be limited. I must talk to Noma. Nanshe. And all her people at the abbey...

"But how can dreams just walk around?" I say, running a hand through my hair. "That's quite different to when we were all dreaming - yes, the dreams were dangerous, but in reality we were still in our beds." I look at how I'm hovering.

"The dream realm is...a sort of place," I explain to Valmont. "Our minds go there when we dream, but our bodies stay here. Last time, our minds were trapped there and our bodies were trapped here. But this time, things are traveling the other way - bits of dream are coming here, because of the break in the barrier. Like the river overflowing its banks."

I can explain it all very well, as if it made perfect sense for dreams to go walking. Well, in Excolo, that actually makes more sense than some things.

"This is very strange. The abbey seems like a good place to consult," I add. "Should we bring anything with us? Supplies? Weapons?"

"Yes. I'll gather whatever magical supplies of mine that I can get to without going into the sitting room. And you can bring whatever weapons you can use well. Er," I hesitate, as another thought strikes me. "Blades rather than guns, perhaps? Fewer moving parts means fewer things that can be corrupted by whatever is happening. And, check on Alice when you go."

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Glass an Hermia discuss the matter of intent or accident an' even though Valmont is confused about how dreams can become physical he accepts Hermia's explanation with no argument, and so that discussion turns to how to a trip to the Abbey to find out more and what if anything should be brought with us.

As well there is is the matter of Glass' cloak. I draw a deep breath in and then gently reach out one paw to let my etheric hand brush the edge of the cloak. The only obvious thing about it is that it smells a bit of dreamstuff but not wholly made thereof. It feels quieted but not dead.

It's an interesting puzzle but not as important as the problem of dreamstuff pouring into this realm. I look around and try to see if I can feel where this rent between realms is. It feels stronger towards main street.

"Much as we might want the reach a gun could give us, I gotta agree with Hermia bout maybe simpler is better right now. It feels like the dreamstuff is flowin' from the same direction we're plannin' on headin'. Means we c'n expect things to get weirder."

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"The cloak is supposed to hide you? How? Where did you get it?"

"When we're all sleeping and I died, someone used their own hair to weave up the feathers I bled out, and gave it to--" Azrael, which I cannot say so light, not when I'm not setting out the truth of him-- "Death. To bring it out of the dream. In the waking world, it's some part of the cloak of mists, to break sight and keep one hidden. Now..." I shrug a little. "It's warm, is all."

Blink a little at Valmont's weight on where folk really were, but Hermia sorts it well enough, and we're to matter of setting out. I've my knife, as one does, and... "I've my bell-jar, you think it'd have weight or use," I offer. "Leave me know if I can help, going back in for aught particular." Gesture to my feet, which are still aground. Don't imagine we'll be here long, but don't mind helping for the moment afore we move.

Edited Date: 2013-03-18 10:54 pm (UTC)

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[cont here] (http://estdeus-innobis.livejournal.com/467504.html?thread=11732016#t11732016)

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I give Valmont's hand a quick squeeze before he floats off. I hate to see him go, but at least I can take comfort from the knowledge that he's going to see to Alice. I just hope that her dreams last night were not the ones that frighten her so...

I sense Chester reaching out to touch the cloak, and my head tilts as I study it more closely…and try to still the shivers that run through me when Glass says so casually that she died, there in the dream.

"If the cloak is a thing of the dreamworld, then perhaps it can help close the gap." I'm still astonished at how steady my voice sounds. But I don't have time to be afraid; I must concentrate on solving this problem. Time enough to be afraid later. "Or it might be useful in some other way. I don't know if the bell jar would be needed, but it can't hurt - certainly, if we need to keep other harmful things at bay, it will be good to have that. Especially if the dreamworld is going to get closer and stranger as we get near to the abbey," I add, nodding to Chester. "There's no telling what sorts of things we'll find there. Or whose dreams we'll find there."

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"...oh bloody hell," I say, as Hermia mentions who may yet be dreaming. Well, could be worse. Donner could still be around. "Aright. Well, minding that... Can't leave, I don't think. Well enough." Run my hand back through my hair and twist it up and back out of the way, down the back of my collar. I'd have none of this, given my choices, but plain enough my child is growing leaves, I'm not guessing Kate'd throw off town, and I don't even care to imagine what Dorian's gotten himself into. So (http://estdeus-innobis.livejournal.com/467504.html#t11734832).

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shards-of-alice.livejournal.com

I wake up. Except I don't.

"Get up!" and I'm on my feet and my feet aren't on the floor but that's okay, I think, because I'm standing and-- And I realize that the voice came from outside. Outside my head and right beside me.

She's standing beside me. I can see her, I can reach out and touch her and I do and she's real, flesh and bone and real, when she grabs my hand and pulls me away. That's when I see all the smoke hanging on the ceiling like clouds, and the fire on the bed that spreads so fast to where I was just sleeping. The heat makes the air go funny and my head is spinning so much, because I'm floating and I can't breathe and there's fear coming up from my belly to my throat to choke me.

She holds out her hand. She closes it into a fist. And when the fire's gone she looks at me. Her eyes are too big, dolls eyes that are bright and blue. "Run."

"No." I'm still scared and the fire's gone but the smoke's still here, in the air, with something else behind it. I see the colors, I see the shape, but I don't understand any of it at all. And none of that matters, because I won't run. Being scared's okay, if you keep your feet right firm on the ground.

Um... I close my eyes and it takes forever, trying to think when part of me maybe just wants to cry, but my brain is quiet too and that helps me concentrate so that I can push myself down. My feet touch the ground and I look at her again. "We gotta find Valmont and Hermia. We gotta make sure they're okay." Everything's gone wrong and that means you gotta find your family. She doesn't understand that, but she keeps hold of my hand anyway and we go to their room.

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"Blades rather than guns, perhaps? Fewer moving parts means fewer things that can be corrupted by whatever is happening. And, check on Alice when you go."

"Alright," I say, though I may put my pistol from the safety deposit box in my jacket, just in case. I go around to the front of the building and to the front desk. There is a carpet of flowers blooming here, and I smile a little. If someone's dreaming this, it's quite a nice dream, and I find that I can walk on the grass. Then I notice that I'm barefoot. Well, I suppose if you dream of grass and flowers, you don't want to wear shoes... I go into the office and find my gun, put it inside my jacket, and pick up a letter opener and a pocket knife. I go towards Alice's room, but she's not there. Alarmed, I go back downstairs, and see her outside of our bedroom door - with another girl who looks very like her, but has dead pale eyes. My skin creeps.

"Alice? Would you and your friend like to come with me?"

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shards-of-alice.livejournal.com

"Alice? Would you and your friend like to come with me?"

Valmont! I wanna run up and hug him -- he wasn't in his room and Hermia wasn't there either and I was scared -- but she's holding my hand tight so I don't. I just nod instead.

"Everybody's dreaming."

"Dreams are real."

I look at her and she's not looking at me. She's looking at Valmont. I don't like it, that look, but I swallow all the angry before it comes out.

"We gonna go fix it, Valmont?" I ask him instead, following along.

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The girl sounds like Alice, and looks a little like her, too. But those eyes...

"Does your friend have a name, Alice?" I ask.

"We gonna go fix it, Valmont?"

"I hope so. Hermia has some ideas," I say, leading them out to join the others (http://estdeus-innobis.livejournal.com/467504.html?replyto=11734832).

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Silk Road's less than pleasant, all told; there were noises drifting out from the woodworking shop that I didn't care for, when I came down. So from where we were (http://estdeus-innobis.livejournal.com/467504.html#t11726640), set out on the other way to the Abbey, up and aside and through; it's not exact less strange, but it's a little quieter.

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My feet hit the ground as soon as I step outside the gate of the Whitechapel's back garden, with one of those sharp jolts that I sometimes feel when I'm falling asleep, the kind that jerks me awake amid a dream of falling. Except that this time I do not wake, for I am already awake, and already as watchful as I can possibly be.

It's safer to go the back way, we decide - Glass says that Silk Road was full of unsettling noises, and I think that going through a less populated area will mean fewer potential dreams to pass through.

Even so, the trees are strange and shifting here - some stretching tall up to the sky and beyond like the beanstalk in the story; some hanging with heavy fruit; some with branches that almost seem to reach out towards us. The path is treacherous, too, with stones sticking up to trip us every few feet.

I have to keep one eye on the ground, but every few steps I glance behind me to see whether Valmont and Alice are coming yet. When I finally see them, my breath rushes out in relief.

"Alice!" I cry, as I see her come up with Valmont…along with…someone else? A girl who looks like Alice, but with strange, gray eyes, and a look on her face that sends a shiver through me.

Whoever this dream-girl is, the other is our Alice, and I hold my arms out to her. "Darling, I'm so glad that you're all right." But I glance over her head to Valmont, my eyes asking the silent worried question.

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It is decided that we'll take the side street in an attempt to cut down on problems from the stuff people have dreamed up. And for the most yeah, there is less stuff, but it ain't all the much easier, as there's less room overall, n' the dreamstuff ain't all the friendly. Trees reachin' for us n' rocks poppin' up under our feet. Well, their feet. i'm takin' advantage of my small size by ridin' safe in Hermia's arms. Though I jump down right quick when I see that along with Alice, Valmont's brought us her creepy lookin' twin.

When I get up close I realize that said twin is definitely creepy an' had got Alice' hand in hers. She don't look at all friendly neither. C'n feel my fur bristle a bit at the look she's givin' Hermia. "Hey Sweetheart," I greet Alice, "Wanna introduce us to your friend?"

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shards-of-alice.livejournal.com

Valmont asks me her name and my voice runs away because I'd never thought about that before, her having a name, being something that gets a name. I look at her and she's looking at me now. I can't hear you inside anymore, that's what I want to tell her, because there are words that want to tickle the back of my mind but that's all, just a feeling.

But then Valmont says we're gonna go fix it and her eyes are back on him and it's time to go.

It's gone funny outside and I have to blink the lights away when I see it because of all the dreaming. "Alice!" and then Hermia's there with her arms open wide, solid in a great big forest of barely there at all. "Darling, I'm so glad that you're all right."

My hand gets pulled back when I start to step forward, and she's looking at me funny and I don't know if it's because she don't want me to go or because she don't want me to leave her.

"Hey Sweetheart," Chester says and I'm spinning because I didn't know he was there. "Wanna introduce us to your friend?"

"Um... She-- She just came outta my head," which isn't lying, it's not. "She doesn't have a name."

"Carol." She's not looking at me, even though I'm staring now. She's looking at everybody else and her hand's squeezing mine and her head's up high. "My name. Carol."

Oh. I look back at everybody. "Her name's Carol," and I'm blinking again, but only cause my eyes are watery. "We should go." I don't know where we're going, but I don't wanna stand in this stupid forest anymore.

Edited Date: 2013-03-21 01:42 am (UTC)

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Oh. Well, she's... oddly plain, the other girl, knit up so common unstrange. Blind eyes, though she's not blind; but she's not like a dream, there's little enough of the floating lilac-furred dancing-trees twisting oddities about her to what I can see.

"Well enough," I say, to the introduction and to Alice's wanting to move on. "Mind where you step, aright? The Abbey's not far, but twisted ankles won't help anyone." Look curious to Hermia and Valmont, wondering if she's anyone from afore... but no, Alice said she didn't know her name, didn't she?

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The gray-eyed girl - Carol, she says her name is - pulls Alice away from me, and I stiffen warily. I can feel Chester bristle protectively, too, and I hug him a little closer, glancing down at him - does he sense something that I do not about the gray-eyed girl, or is he, like me, just unhappy about what she seems to be doing to Alice?

But I keep my hand out to Alice, for I will not leave her - seeing Alice's face fall only makes me want to hug her tighter, and want to keep her safe from this strange gray-eyed girl as well as the forest. I take a step closer to her, the worry sharpening in my eyes as I look up to Valmont again for another moment.

"Carol. It's nice to meet you," I say, as calm and even as I can manage. Whatever or whoever this other girl is, she is real right now, just as Valmont's mother was real, so I must treat her as such - and treat her with care, too, for Alice's sake. "Come with us. And be careful," I agree, nodding to Glass, "and stay close. We don't know what might be out there, and we all need to stay together. I don't want you to get hurt."

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