EXCOLO

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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chester-excolo.livejournal.com

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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chester-excolo.livejournal.com

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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