Ali had fled the awkward scene with as much speed as she could, her froofy blue skirts twirling out like a sugary confection, her only stop one in which she grabbed another Dentis Cobbler. They were too tasty, and f she really was going to run all the way back to her dorm she would need the energy.

However, first she wanted to get herself in order. She really didn't want to wade through the masses of people and running children, and so began a search closer to her side of the room. There, in a darkened corner, was a servants hall. Wit a great sense of relief she slipped past some other participants and found herself relatively free.

Although unfamiliar with this corridor, Ali wandered down without fear, trying to keep her relative position in her head. When she found a likely door that ought to lead outside, she tried it and it opened. She got a whiff of night air and with a wan smile she slipped outside.

She found herself in a rather sheltered patio, one that she was certain was normally off-limits to students as servants quarters. It was a bit of a walk back to the dorms if she went on proper routes... she would be quick, and no one notice her flitting through. With a lightly determined expression, she began making her way through the area.

It was unusually quiet outside this night, everyone either celebrating inside or off on break. A light rain pattered outside, having died down from the torrential downpour earlier in the evening. A cool breeze stirred the girls pastel blue skirts and tugged lightly at her hair, almost like someone pulling gently towards the right. If Alisoina were to glance up, she would see a figure standing in the rain of the courtyard, so pale they appeared to glow. A whisper reached the girl's ears, but it was too soft to hear. The figure, unrecognizable as a man or a woman, blurred by the rain, reached out to her for a moment, before turning to walk, heading towards the ornate wall of the East Garden.

The wind pulled against her again and this time, a voice reached her ears.

"Catherine...my Catherine..."

Fred had been hanging off to the side of the hall. There were now groups with whom he could socialize, but he didn't feel up to it. Instead he was intent on watching his quarry from afar. Alisoina. He'd managed to muck things up all too well between her feelings, her rebelliousness and the ghosts. Guilt kept him from enjoying the Feast. It would eat at him until the situation was resolved, one way or another. So he hung to the sides, dressed rather plainly in a white shirt with blue vest and trousers.

He was just considering joining in when she bolted.
Not a good sign... Maybe I should have pushed Abe to have her examined officially.

He moved through the throng with considerably more ease than the younger galdor. He saw her grab another drink and he grimaced. Still, he kept some distance between them. Her choice of exits was quite the surprise and had him scurrying to follow, casting his senses forward to cling to the signature of her field when she left his direct sight. The corridor made things easy, until he lost her.

Wait. Not lost... she just left the hall about here I think...
There was a hint of moisture in the air near one door. It must lead to outside. The boy opened it a tiny crack to first make sure Ali wasn't waiting for him on the other side. But, no, she was headed out and away from the building. Into the night damp.

A shame I wore my good boots. Oh, well.

The rain was light enough that Ali wasn't bothered by it, however as her skirts became heavier, and the darker the sky became, the more she worried. The wind was insistent, somehow filling her with a sense of dread and anticipation that seemed to wait forever outside herself, and it was with a rather breathless sigh that she turned to look.

There was a pale shadow in the rain, and her bright eyes widened as her heart stopped. Couldin. The voice in the wind confirmed her hopes and fears, the name of his lover on the breeze enough to make the girl's heart surge with heartbreak and longing. As the figure vanished towards the garden, Ali gathered the many layers of her skirt and ran, uncaring that her shoes would wear blisters into her heel or that she was ruining her brand new stockings. Her world once again revolved around the elusive promise of adventure and romance. She didn't need the constant presence of her Ghost to be possessed, obsessed.

The wall was gorgeous, tall and latticed so that creeping ivy could cover the fine carvings, making it appear like a ruin. The drizzling was forgotten in her incessant need to find, to be with her Couldin. Pink of exertion and coolness emblazoning her cheeks, she gave chase to her Ghost until she found one of the many entrances to the ignored garden.

It felt like a mythic gateway, the rain misting around her, obscuring sight for more than a few feet in the warm garden. She could pass though, but nothing that mattered or meant something in this real world had any value beyond. A gateway to her dreams and nightmares. Pausing to catch her breathe, she waited, for some reminder that this wasn't a vision, that she was meant to be here. A sign.

As Alisoina entered the garden, a wind pushed through the bushes, she could feel it twist around her like a welcoming presence, but it didn't stir a single leaf. The figure glowed white against the night, standing in front of the pond, looking down into it. From across the garden, the thorn maze creaked and there seemed to be a presence there. A darkness, smoldering eternally.

Again, she heard the name, a soft almost voiceless sound.

"Catherine...My Catherine..." It came from the pond, from the white figure. It seemed to be calling to her alone. Calling her closer.

That was all she needed.

With a relieved sigh, she dropped the glass from her drink to the wet grass, and truly entered the garden. Walking forward, she tried to ignore the little voices of warning in her head, instead giving the figure by the waters few full attention.

Holding her breath, she closed the distance with hesitancy, still, always uncertain if the magic would last, if she would be left grasping for hat she wanted in a world of too much reality.

((sfsp))

Frederick, by now used to the ghosts' ploys, watched the exchange with growing alarm. He'd broken into a sprint at the first sign, but Ali had quite a star on him. Hopefully there was enough caution within her for him to catch up before something disastrous happened.

Then he realized where the ghost was leading her.

"Ali! Alisoina Denore!"

Hopefully her name would bring her back to her senses. Hunter ran fast, hoping to cut her off before she reached the water's edge and Catherine's reach.

The figure still seemed indistinct as the girl stepped closer, mostly just a white human shaped glow. As Alisoina got closer, a very faint sound came from the shape. It could have been night insects, but the sound resembled very very soft crying.

The red head would have only a moment to blink, when suddenly the figure turned and grabbed her by both arms with cold, wet hands. Staring Alisoina in the face with two white dead eyes, Catherine looked sad. Her mouth opened wide and water spilled from it. From the thorns, a deep inhuman cry rattled the girl through to her bones. Then suddenly...

She was standing at the pond, turning. Looking across the clearing. She could see Couldin, but the boys were hurting him. Beating him.

"No! Billy, stop them! Stop!"

To Fredrick, the girl was yelling at nothing, but to Alisoina, it was Billy Bryan. She was conscious, aware of the fact she wasn't alone in her body. And not in control. Catherine had dissolved into nothing the moment she touched Alisoina, as though a vapor.

"Billy! Please! Couldin!" She cried at her brother, pleading with him. Stepping forward, she reached out to him, but he pushed her. And she fell.

As Fredrick came closer, he would see Alisoina reach out to someone, then it was like she was thrown, lifting through the air and landing in the cold black pond, sinking slowly.

The red head would find herself released from Catherine's re-enactment, but she found she couldn't swim. She was being held down. A cold hand held her ankle, pulling on her. A voice came to her mind as her face slowly sank under the water.

"Help us..."

"No!"
That was Catherine and now she's in Ali. Taken her... and reenacting her death?
Frederick didn't need to see what happened next. He knew with terrible certainty.
Reaching the water's edge an instant too late, he spoke Levitation to give Ali lift and Pull to counteract the drag of the ghost.
Can't let her go. Can't let her drown.

Fred's Levitation spell failed before it had even begun. He was asking to suspend gravity around a target that was far too large and already suspended in a heavier medium than air. The mona did not express discontent, as Fred was working on borrowed time and clearly desperate to get Alisoina out of the water. It was like a finger running down his spine, nothing more, a hint that he needed to try something else. The Pull spell was far more successful, causing his field to press and flex with exertion as Alisoina's head broke the surface of the water again. It was slow going, very slow, but he managed to get her within reaching distance. His forehead was coated in sweat and his clothes felt cold from the quiet effort. His mouth seemed to taste of blood, something that only happened when he was reaching his limit with a spell. He was going to need to grab her.

Around the boy, the wind picked up, swirling and pushing at him. From the thornmaze a monstrous roar filled his ears. Around Alisoina's ankle, the hand released, a watery scream filling her own ears. She would be able to see Hunter, only inches from her through the water.

A sudden vision filled her mind then, blacking out everything else. It seemed out of place, as though through her unique connection to the Lover and the Gardener, she was tuning into something else. It was of a figure, standing on what appeared to be a cliff or some sort of outcrop. The vision changed, showing Alisoina things through the figures eyes. It was looking into a cave. The blackest cave the red head had ever seen.

Then it was gone, but the vision would remain seared in her mind. Around her ankle, cold fingers were creeping again. Fred had to act.

Deep in her heart, Ali knew she probably deserved this.

when she approached the pond, it was with a sinking feeling. The crying wasn't Couldin's, which meant this was Catherine. Perhaps, though, the girl would be less angry by her pool than in Hunter's study, perhaps she would sense the great lengths the small galdor had gone through in order to make contact with them, how hard she had fought to learn more about them...


Although it was Catherine who spoke, it was Ali's soul that cried out. Stop, you're hurting him! She felt the surges of Catherine's heart, her own pain at the sight. Whether she loved him or he was just a passive gardener, now that she knew him, she couldn't bear to see such cruelty.

"Billy! Please! Couldin!" Their words were the same, now that she recognized the figure, and though she knew her words were heard, she was ignored, then--

Cold, cold.

Chilling wetness, and water cresting over her face and in her mouth and nose and goddess I can't breathe-- the hand at her ankle was pulling her down, and though Alisoina heard the plea, she couldn't help the sardonicness of her own nature. Well, I'd help you, you moony bitch, if you'd only let me go. She was fighting, gasping for each breath, but somehow she expected to be rescued by a gardener with green eyes.

So when she was pulled, she fought Catherine's hold on her ankle, kicking and flailing, trying to move with the mona. She wasn't about to let a freaking Ghost kill her; killed by the dead, a far too ironic death for the as-yet unkissed Ali. Terror had yet to fully consume her, though it waited just outside of her consciousness, waiting for the first spark of uncertainty.

She saw what looked like Couldin's green, verdant eyes through the waters, and she reached her hand out, ready to be out of the water and away from the girl she was trying so hard to replace when suddenly--


She stopped, totally shocked by the image. What-- what was it? Where was it? Who was she? The questions were frightening her, and with a keening cry she felt the true surge of terror overwhelm her. She was going to die here. The Ghost girl was going to drag her down and then they'd both shriek and beg for help and goddess--

It was just like the crypts, when she froze.

But this time, Ali wasn't about to give in to terror. Athrym and Nauleth weren't here to hold her hand or carry her. She had to live.

"NO!" She fought her way to the surface, using the very last of her strength. "Not this time, goddess clocking dammit!"

There was no time to analyze the spell effects, no time to worry about the runoff. Fred's actions began with the spells and moved quickly into the physical realm. He leapt forward to catch at Ali before she was pulled under again.
"Alisoina!"
He hoped his voice would help her get her bearings.
"Take my hand."
He would dive after her if he needed to, but hopefully he could reach her while still anchored to the ground so that he could use leverage to get her out of the pond.

As Alisoina struggled to the surface, the hand around her ankle was like an ice cold vice, tugging harder this time. She was slowly being pulled down again, her lungs beginning to burn in protest. The red head needed air, soon. From the thorns, the Gardener let out an anguished cry, bashing his malformed pick-axe arm on the ground. The embers in his burnt out torso glowed brightly. The wind whipped around Fredrick like a desperate creature, almost urging him on.

As Fred reached out, his fingers found Alisoina's and they formed a firm grip, but the simple touch was like a trigger. No longer was the hand tugging on her ankle. It was pulling - hard - and at the same time, the ghostly girl began to pull herself up the drowning girls leg, jerkily clinging to her calf and her knee. It was a fight that Fredrick would feel he was beginning to loose. Catherine was either going to take Alisoina, or take them both. Already, if the black haired boy looked into the water, he would see the deathly white eyes of the dead girl staring at him from behind Alisoina's floating blue skirts. Even in her hunger, the ghostly red head looked so sad.

Suddenly, both the students could feel a field, gradually approaching from the other side of the pond. It was a strong one, radiating without malice or even aware the students were there, feeling very slightly like standing on the edge of a bottomless pit. Everything happened at once. Couldin vanished in a whisp of black smoke, not even his echo remaining. The hands released Alisoina's leg and Catherine sank rapidly into the deep, unknown depths of the pond. Fredrick, having nothing to pull against, lost his balance, causing Fred to fall back, half pulling the girl out of the cold water. Even the wind stilled in an instant.

It was completely silent, except for two frightened, wet students.

Fred couldn't see what was happening below the surface. But he felt the cold, icy grip as Catherine tried to drag them both under. His mistake was in thinking of her as having the mere mass of a girl. Clearly the ghost's body defied the normal physical rules. Despite his determination, he feared she would succeed at pulling both students under.
Can't let her go. Can I cast again before I go under? What-

Something, someone else intervened. The rolling force of the field washed over them. For a second, Frederick was overcome with a sensation akin to drowning, lost in the wave of ... whatever it was. He struggled to maintain enough control to keep hold of Ali. Caught off guard, he lost his balance and found himself falling. His buttocks cushioned the impact and he found a bedraggled girl's head practically in his lap.

"Alisoina?"

He held her hand in his and used his other to brush wet strands of hair from her face. The mysterious presence was tempting for someone with an explorer's spirit, but concern for the girl would not allow him to pursue that temptation. He would come back later. After he had seen to her safety.

"Ali?"

Professor Moore arrived breathless, only visible over the top of the rose bushes, only to see Frederick cradling Alisoina's head in his lap. He gasped.

The professor wordlessly created a pathway through the hedge with some variation of a Push spell, not putting a second's thought to the well-being of the roses (Fred could see a cleared path behind him, implying he had taken a rather unsportsmanlike shortcut through the hedge). He hurried forward.

"What in Vulker's name happened here?" he asked, baffled. He dropped to his knees next to Alisoina. "I feel something horrid in the air..."

Suddenly she was free-- with the sense of something bigger, grander, came the release of Catherine's hand on her legs. While she was fighting for breath, the panic had gone. Strangely it was easy to grab onto Couldin/Hunter, and even as they fell back to earth she was in a vague bubble of peace. It was a strange shock, but one that was perhaps better than hysterics.

Of course it had been terrifying, Catherine had almost won. Ali's legs would never forget the feel of the girl's ghostly ravenous arms, or the feeling like they would soon be twins below the surface of the waters. Yet it couldn't affect her. She had felt something stop them, both Ghosts, completely. Her vision of the cave too haunted her, and it was with curiosity that she tried to recall the dark figure. It had all felt so... vast. And unreal. Or perhaps super-real.

So she was blinking rapidly from her bed upon the wet grass, a strange warmth leaking from her eyes, blue lace and ribbons soaked and ruined. Cheeks flushed with exertion, she was slowly fading from the soft shock that had settled over her to hear a voice from beyond the veil of ghosts and water and her own strange revelations.


There was a touch at her face, and she could recognize Hunter's handsome, friendly countenance above hers. But he wasn't happy; why was he so upset? They were alive, weren't they? And she knew so much more! She smiled wanly at him, trying to make her befuddled mind work.


I'm fine, I need to tell you-- she thought the words, but they weren't coming out. She struggled to move but found it was more difficult than she'd anticipated. With tender tendrils, reality was coming back. Why was she in Hunter's lap? Oh yes, almost drowning, what a bother. Damn that Catherine, all she had been trying to do as help. It was only then that she noticed she'd been crying.


A professor was there suddenly (everything was happening so fast!), and it was all becoming too confusing to the half drowned redhead. With a heroic effort, she managed to half push herself out of Hunter's lap and look at up at the older student.

"I saw something down there...! I saw the entire scene with Billy and Catherine and Couldin It was--" She turned to Professor Moore and with too bright eyes pointed at him. "And you! You showed up-- was it you? Did you make them disappear?" She was chattering now, slowly pulling herself up into a sitting position. She could do so much more! They had learned so much! She had to tell Hunter!

Something was sticking to the back of her neck uncomfortably, and with a jerky flick, she pulled off the black ribbon from her hair and wound it around one wrist. Turning back to the pair with a vaguely deranged smile, she glanced at the pond. "It was... amazing!" She was shivering badly, but she didn't care. She had to tell them! They had to know!

Frederick had never been so happy to see anyone as he was at Harper's presence. The cold, the darkness and the wet all seemed slightly more tolerable now that help had arrived. And then Ali responded with a flood of words, clearly in shock. The boy did not forget his priorities.

"Professor, please help me get Miss Denore inside. She was pulled into the pond and - I'll explain it all, I promise. But we need to get her warm and away from the garden."

He stood and bent over Alisoina, rubbing her shoulders and trying to lift her into a standing position. This would be easier if she could walk.

"Shssh. Ali, let's get you inside and dried off a bit, shall we? You can tell me what you saw later."

Triston stumbled across the hedge, desperately trying to shake off a few stray vines that clung to the edge of her dress. She was very confused about what was going on, even more so then usual. There had been a scream, Harper's suicidal instincts kicked in, and off they were through the roses. She had to admit that there was something attractive about the way he rushed to help the two students, one of which she recognised as Fred/Hunter/aeroship kid. She didn't recognise the red head though.

Whats going on here? "Wha-"



Triston stopped short and approached wearily, wondering if she should offer assistance. Sometimes it was hard to tell what constituted as a 'passives should butt out' moment or not.

That girl should probably get somewhere warm, she looks wet.



...Why are my thoughts so generic everyone else keeps thinking them first?

With little else she could do, Triston made it her business to hold the umbrella over their heads. Sure they were already wet, but at that moment the small passive felt so useless, she had to do something, even if that something didn't really help at all.

Well, it did help her feel better.

"No! This is far too important to leave! Hunter, don't you understand? This is a chance to search the garden! They don't seem to like him!" Blast her shaking, it was interrupting her ability to form coherent words. Hunter was able to stand her up, but Ali was like a doll, her knees giving way when any real pressure was applied, arms something like limp noodles. Her dress too was getting in the way making it difficult to see her shivering legs.

Then there was a girl, a passive, and Ali looked around at Professor Moore, Hunter and now Triston. Where were all these people coming from? Were the rosebushes making it a habit to sprout people? She was getting frustrated that everything was moving out of her control and entirely too fast. Now they even wanted to take her out of the garden! That would not stand.

Squaring her shoulders, which appeared much more like a pathetic shrug, the redhead glowered at the assembled people. "Well, while I thank you for the assistance, if you're not going to help me you can continue your romantic walk," she looked from her teacher to Triston, rather oblivious to the faux pas she's made. "Or whatever. I have business to attend to." This was a rare opportunity to actually get inside the garden. Caressing the black ribbon at her wrist, Ali made the attempt to walk away from Hunter, wrestling out of his grip, reaching out for the stride--

Before falling back into him after not even a half a moment. Suddenly, the futility started to come back and her tears returned en masse. "You can't just take me away inside, I can't keep getting pushed in a corner because I know things now and I can help!" She hated crying in front of people, but she had lost control of such things the moment she'd entered the garden. "Hunter, you have to help me! You know better than anyone-- you've felt them-- I was so close to understanding something, I know it!" She couldn't be foiled by bodily weakness, it would be unbearable. She was trying so hard...!

Professor Moore felt as though he'd been slapped. Romantic walk?! Was that how students spoke to teachers these days - insinuating something as tasteless and immoral as all that? He frowned angrily, realizing that Alisoina was clearly still under the influence of some sort of strange goings-on, but nonetheless perturbed that she would say something so utterly uncouth. He was glad Triston could not see the look on his face. He knew that there were nasty rumors about him - but that?

"Young lady, you will come with me," he said firmly, dragging her up by the arm. Turning to Hunter, he motioned for him to help carry Alisoina. "She's hysterical. We need to get her to the infirmary straight away."

He tried to forget what the girl had said, reminding himself that she was talking nonsense, but it just served to remind him that each day he spent on this project was further destroying any hope he had once had of a normal life, of a worthy reputation, of a little respect. Annoyed though he was, he removed his overcoat and put it around Alisoina's shoulders. It wouldn't do for the little brat to catch pneumonia, he thought to himself bitterly.

While Harper was feeling like he'd been girlishly slapped, Triston felt as though she'd been punched in the face bye a burly man with a drinking problem and too much time to workout. Even after the initial shock of what Alisiona had said dissipated, there was still a big mental bruise. All they had been doing was talking, and it seemed so rude to insinuate a professor would have any kind of romance with her. If such an assumption became a rumor, how would Moore salvage what was left of his reputation?

She had a massive crush on Harper, this was undoubtedly true, but she also knew it was nothing but pure fantasy to pursue a relationship with him. Not only was there a racial divide, but there was a generation gap as well. All of that came together to form an impassible chasm, without a single bridge to cross it.
Even so, that wouldn't stop her from jeolously guarding Moore like he was hers, especially from evil healers.

Triston stayed silent, afraid that if she spoke she'd say something stupid and unnecessary. Like 'Its raining.' or 'Is she cold?'.

Fred considered his options. He had been just on the cusp of casting a spell to calm Alisoina, but was worried about the possible side effects given her already-jumbled sense of reality. He rolled up his sleeves and moved to take the girl's other side, confident that he and Moore could control Ali's movements - or carry her if need be.
"Ali. There's nothing to see."
He tried to use his voice to calm her instead of using magic. After all, it worked with animals, and with Horation.
"I've already explored the pertinent locations within the Maze. And whatever force it was that rescued us has clearly sent them into dormancy. Unless you plan on spending the entire break in the infirmary due to overexposure, I suggest you let us take you there now."

The sting of Ali's comment was apparent to varying degrees on both Moore and Triston. Fred winced at the implication. Then again, their presence together on St. Grumbles in the garden might be romantically linked. If so, Professor Moore had just jumped up several notches of weird by Hunter's estimation.

"Sorry Professor, Triston, she's disoriented from the ghost visions and from the dunk in the pond. I don't think she meant anything..."

Two Dentis cobblers, a near drowing, various visions and hauntings and one stupid comment later, Ali was not in the best of moods to be calmed. Perhaps if Hunter's voice had gotten to her before Professor Moore's, or maybe if they'd brushed it off as the shock induced stupidity that it was, Ali would not have taken things quite so hard.

But she was fourteen, reeling after a near death expirience and a few drinks, and gods above they were being clocking rude! "I'm not... not disoriented, and I didn't say anything wrong! You're all such-- such-- such clocking stop clockers! Let me go!" Her fighting was weak at best and futile at worst, though she managed a few good shin kicks. The Professors hold on her arm hurt, and she squirmed to rid herself of it, only managing to her herself worse.

Shivering badly, lips turing blue, she sneezed like an aeroship spluttering to life. However, it seemed like the weaker she became physically the more staid she became in her purpose. "Please-- Couldin and Catherine need me. And there was another one, another place..." She quieted, and as much as it killed her, she continued to cry. "I just wanted to help them. I just wanted to be important." Now it was more than her lips that were losing color; her cheeks had lost their overly rosey shine and become terribly pallid.

Professor Moore had to wonder: what was it that made young girls speak so brashly to him? Was it his easygoing manner, or his haircut? Was it the spectacles? Was it the fact that he didn't hand out demerits all the time like some of his colleagues? Was it that one test that consisted of only a joke question - what ever became of the mona particle that wandered into the celestial nova? Was it merely a matter of reputation?

Whatever it was, he had no more qualms about silencing a disruptive student when the situation called for it. His face showed a brief flash of concentration as he silently cast Sleep on the struggling Alisoina. It was a strong but simple spell, designed to knock her out for an hour or so; the garden seemed to hush around them, sensing the magic, and there was a ringing in their ears afterward.

"Sorry," he whispered to Hunter after the spell had been cast. "I thought it best if she got some rest while we carry her to the infirmary." He glanced over at Triston, feeling bad that he had not been able to talk to her about the subject he had on his mind, and hoping that she wasn't feeling too awkward.