Robbin

45. Demon in the Mist

Terra felt ashamed for falling asleep while sitting frozen in her seat with Jake. And Robbin. She tried not to think of him. Or Hunt, dormension though he was. She peered distractedly to Jake. "Do you think they're doing okay out there?"

He nodded fervently, whether to assure her or himself. Inside the hut it was deadly quiet, though she was sure if she stepped outside she might hear the screams of the men at the border, shrill and distinct. Jake paced uneasily from shutter to shutter, peering out between cracks as if a wolf might run right up to their door after all. But it was a ghost town, streets empty, blinds shut, holing up people too terrified to even stand. Children. Siblings. Parents. Terrified like her.

All there was in that moment was a dimly lit table, a couple of chairs, a fireplace, and Jake. There was no second room. A straw bed was thrown in the corner of the kitchen. There was only one plant in the middle of the dining table Terra rested her cheek on. As Jake paced right by her chair, Song's dress ruffled at her feet.

She peered at it. Something was missing. Though heavy, the red material still seemed to drag a bit.

"Terra, are you okay?" Jake was looking at her oddly. "Your eyes were white again."

"It's this stupid vision. I keep getting it over and over again," she fussed.

He sat, finally distracted from his pacing. "What's it about?"

She eyed him appraisingly. What did it hurt to share it with him? It wasn't like her vision had any special kind of significance to it. "It's about this dress. It's stupid really, I mean, why would my necklace want me to see visions of a dress?"

"What did it look like?" he asked, evidently intrigued.

"A pastel red with baby blue ribbons all down the front." She felt silly talking to him about something so arbitrary as if it might be important.

"In your vision, it belonged to the witches, didn't it?"

She pursed her lips at the word witch. "One of them, yes."

He leaned back in his chair as if he had just solved all the world's problems. "Then that's why you're having visions of it. It's because it belonged to one of the witches."

That was a nice try, but all of her visions were about the witches. Why was this one so specific? "Yes, but—" she started. Another vision rudely interrupted her.

The farthingale accentuated the look. Madiera's handmaiden (she always forgot the name) was meticulous with her hair. She practically pissed herself at the words thank you as God knew her sister didn't say it enough. It was her castle, after all.

The pale blonde curls carved around her face, just enough hanging from the tall immaculate tower that was her hair..

Pale red, and pale blue, she marched toward the exit. Madiera hated waiting.

"Terra!"

Terra? No, that wasn't her name.

"Terra! You can't go outside!"

She immediately snapped out of it finding herself being forcefully restrained by Jake. The hut door before her stood ajar. As soon as she stopped struggling Jake hurriedly shut it once more.

"What was that about?!" he accused.

"I—I must have been sleepwalking... or rather, visionwalking... I opened that?"

He nodded solemnly, eying her as if she might spontaneously combust.

"I'm sorry, I, I—" No, not another one...

She stood at the threshold. A bronze doorman held one open. An older one held the other. Handsome, perhaps, though she would never look about, as her sister had done. What Madiera had done...

The wide porch steps awaited her. She stepped out, lifting her skirt as she sprinted haphazardly in her heels.

"It is unlady like to run, Antoinette." Madiera's eyes were haughty with dislike.

She frowned. There was a time, she knew, when Madiera would have run with her. She would have run—

"Terra?!" Her name was called once again. She wrapped her jacket tightly around her in the frigid air. Wait... She peered around the darkened night. She was outside.

"Why didn't you stop me?!" she exclaimed. She looked all about her in fright. The rows between huts, abandoned as they were now, reminded her of the alleyways of the towers. She could hear yelling in the distance, from the battlefield. She let out an involuntary squeal, running back the way she had come. Had she come from this way?

"You forced me back with your, your powers—Terra? Where are you going? Terra!" He grasped at her wrists to stop her. "Terra, our hut is this way."

He tried to drag her back but she couldn't move. She just stood frozen.

She had felt this way before. Who had stopped her that time? It had been Robbin. Robbin stopped you from running from him in the clearing with the—

Sleep, came a command in her head. It wasn't her command, she knew it, but she hadn't given herself enough time to react. She slowly sank to the ground, and rested her cheek on the dirt. She balled her feet underneath her dress.

"Terra? What are you—" but Jake looked up, seeing what was behind her suddenly lethargic body. If she had turned around, she would have seen its inky figure, too.

"Demons dream, but don't deny..." she began to whisper but the fatigue had already taken over. The last hazy thing she saw before closing her eyes was Jake surrounded by empty huts and a cluster of demons.

Had her visions led her outside, or had they? It wasn't them. She hated her necklace. It was supposed to lead her away from danger... It was her last thought, and her eyes closed with unwilling dreams.

a/n: Looks like the wolves aren't the only ones involved in this plot. Just the distraction.

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