Still panting and swearing—she didn't understand why—a feeling inside her told her not to look back. Something evil was there and she wasn't prepared to face it yet. Too many thoughts of fear drove her to run ahead, wishing to escape the forest. Her first step on the ground, she discovered she was barefoot. This Dreamory seemed not to like her at all.
Running, she wondered why the forest was so silent, except for the faint hissing of whatever she was running from. It was as if this dream had started in the middle of some event Fable didn't know about.
"Charmwill!" she yelled as she ran.
No one answered her. More trees curved and swirled around her. She wiped the sweat from her chest and saw her hand was smeared with blood. What the heck is this? Fable tried not to scream, but yelled again, "Wilhelm Carl Grimm!" Her hand reached her hair, and she found her pigtails were still there. At least the dream didn't change that. "I know your True Name. Please show me a sign that I'm on the right track."
Still no reply.
As she ran, one of the trees held out a shaking hand. Fable froze for a moment, then ran away, even faster, her bare feet hurting too much, and her poor eyesight not really helping in the dimmed forest—why didn't her glasses pass to the Dreamworld like the breadcrumbs? Dammit!
A faint light shone at the end of path, probably leading to somewhere out of the forest. She hurried toward it, thinking about how she would like to get her hands on some slippers before her feet started to bleed.
"Stop!" a girl's voice said, and a hand shone out of the dark.
"Who is talking to me?" Fable asked.
A girl, cloaked in black, smiled at her. She was standing a few feet away and holding a lantern. "I am—"
"Alice Grimm," Fable said. The description fit Shew's story about the last dream with Cerené.
"Yes, I am." Alice smiled. "Take this." She handed Fable slippers.
Fable took them reluctantly, not really comprehending the situation. "Why do you keep popping up in dreams?"
"I'm a descendant of Wilhelm," she said. "I'm the only one from the Waking World who can roam around in dreams as much as I am allowed to. Wilhelm showed me how. He was one of those who created it when he cursed the so-called fairy tale characters."
"Where is Charmwill, then?" Fable said. "I'm sorry, but I can't call him Wilhelm often. To me he will always be Charmwill Glimmer."
"After killing him, the Queen of Sorrow buried him in the Sands of Time. It will be really hard to get him out of it with the little time you have to accomplish your mission here," Alice said. "Let's say I can guide you the way he would have."
"How do you know about my mission?"
"We don't have time for such questions," Alice said. "You're hours away from the event that will grant you what you want."
"What event? I'm here to get Loki's Fleece."
"And you can only do it by witnessing a certain day in the Dreamworld."
"You mean the day when Loki and Shew fell in love?" Fable was only hoping, as she was curious to see that.
Alice shrugged, definitely hiding something. "Let's call it that for now: the day when the Huntsman and the Princess fell in love. In order to reach that moment, you have to make sure no one realizes you're from the Waking World."
"That goes without saying," Fable said. "So tell me where I should go."
"It's not that easy," Alice said. "You're not listening. In a few moments you will meet the Lost Seven."
Fable's eyes widened. She certainly didn't expect that. "Really? All of them?"
"Well, the dream might not want to show all of them to you," Alice said. "But you will certainly talk to all of them."
"I don't understand."
"The Dreamworld has its own soul. It might not allow a Dreamhunter to see all the truth before certain events happen," Alice said. "Don't worry about it. You will understand when you meet the Lost Seven. What should worry you is that you have to act like you've known them since long ago."
"Why would I do that? I haven't met any of them, not even Cerené. Why would they even talk to me?"
"You're wrong, Fable." Alice held her by the arms. "You do know them, and they know you back."
"That's impossible."
"I can't explain more." Alice sighed. "Just trust me. I'm like Charmwill. I want the best for you and the Lost Seven. You will soon understand what I mean. I just want you to understand that exposing yourself, being from the Waking World, could have undesired consequences. Whatever happens, whenever someone refers to something in the past you don't know about, just agree and don't ask much. You're only here for a brief time to accomplish a mission."
Fable thought Alice's life in the Dreamworld had really messed with her brain, so she didn't comment and just nodded. "So where do I start?"
"There!" Alice pointed at a fork in the road, tangent to a swamp. "Jack will appear in a few moments."
"Jack?"
"Jack from 'Jack and the Beanstalk,' remember? The one Cerené mentioned in the last dream when she said she saw him steal from the Queen of Sorrow's kitchen."
"Jack is a thief? I thought he stole gold from a giant only, according to the books."