Cygnet Children’s Hospital — a dreary memory dressed in the dream-guise of asylum, prison, panopticon, and stockade — loomed over the gardens and grounds like the visage of a sun-bleached skull. Dark windows like empty sockets stared unblinking at the verdant open lawns, the winding red brick pathways, and the pretty little flowerbeds. The building glowered down through every break in the leafy oaken canopy, as if searching for those who dared hide from the all-seeing injunction, of health and wellness through obedience and order. A rot-toothed maw hung wide in the front of the fleshless facade, with a desiccated tongue of concrete and gravel unrolling from between the glass front doors, slopping across the lawns and cutting through the grass, before finally terminating in a barred and barbed gate set into the black iron wall. A checkpoint, designed never to be crossed. Barriers and cones stood tall to ward off cars; squat, drab, grey guard huts squinted at the road through narrow windows; a pair of wrought-iron gates made a mockery of escape.

“No exit,” I muttered at the sight of that fortress. “That’s a very unsubtle metaphor indeed. No way out.”

“Car bomb’d do it,” Raine purred with relish. “Blow those gates right off their hinges.”

I sighed. “Yes, well, if you can find the resources to construct a car bomb — one that doesn’t involve blowing yourself up in the process — then feel free. But somehow I think we’d struggle to build an explosive device in the middle of a mental hospital. Even a dream of one.”

Raine chuckled. “You’d be surprised what you can make from common household items, sweet thing. The fruits of the industrial age.”

I swallowed a second sigh — even in a dream, Raine was so very Raine. I focused on the hospital.

Pale brick was crusted and stacked into the fluted forms and curling fancies of a gothic manor house, broken by vast dark windows and four stories of decorative embellishment in sculpted concrete. A ridiculous affectation, chosen to match the impossible landscape beyond the walls and the ostentatious ‘luxury’ of the gardens. The fiction of the isolated asylum, deep in the restorative countryside.

The illusion was rather undercut by the black and wrinkled sky which framed the hospital — the inside or underside of the Eye, the undeniable reality behind the dream.

Raine and I were lurking about a hundred meters away from the front entrance, concealed behind the trunk of a particularly old and gnarled oak tree, shaded by the thickly spreading canopy above our heads. We were poised right at the edge of the tree line, in a tentacle of low woodland which snaked out across the asylum lawns. A few meters ahead of us, the woods gave way to strictly manicured grass and well-tended flowerbeds.

Raine peered around the right of the tree trunk; I peered around the left, trying not to feel once again like I’d stumbled into a silly cartoon.

We’d spent the last ten minutes crossing the asylum grounds — an amount of time that seemed impossibly long for the short distance we’d covered. How could we have navigated by the sight of the hospital’s red brick facade if it was ten minutes’ walk away, across rolling hills, through a forest of oak? A very artificial forest full of widely-spaced trees, yes, tied up in ribbons of red brick pathway, the ground weirdly free of leaf-mulch carpet. But it was still the woods. We should have been lost from the first step.

Instead we’d crept between the swaying boughs, holding each other’s hands, alert to any sign of nurses or guards or supernatural shenanigans. We’d encountered nobody except a few solitary patients, wandering along the pathways by themselves, or sitting on benches to ‘appreciate nature’. Raine and I looked like hell — haggard and rough, one of us stained with blood, both of us filthy with sweat and worse — but nobody gave us a second look. The only time we attracted the slightest bit of attention is when we ran across a pair of girls snuggling on a bench. The couple had sprung apart when Raine and I stepped out from between the trees, as if embarrassed to be found in an intimate embrace. But then Raine had shot them a wink and showed off the fact that she was holding my hand. The pair had blushed and stuttered a “H-hello, good afternoon” — then turned back to each other after Raine and I had finished passing by.

I kept an eye out for any sliver of russet fur between the trees, but our surprise visitor did not show herself a second time. If the Saye Fox had somehow followed us into Wonderland, she’d made herself scarce once again.

Eventually Raine and I had reached the limit of the little woodland, pushing as far as we could down the extended tentacle of oaken cover. The hospital loomed ahead, protected by a No Man’s Land of open ground; any watchful nurses would spot us instantly if we just walked up the doors. So we waited and watched, peering out from behind a tree.

“Tch,” I tutted and huffed as I stared at the hospital, trying not to let the sight overwhelm me. My right palm was growing sweaty in Raine’s hand. “Absolutely ridiculous. Absurd place. Not even remotely real. Completely implausible.”

“Heather?” Raine murmured. She didn’t turn to look at me, eyes glued to the hospital’s front entrance and the massive side-doors which led out into the gardens. “What’s ridiculous?”

“Oh, nothing,” I said with a little sigh. “Or rather, everything.”

Raine eased back into our hiding place behind the oak tree and shot me a focused, unsmiling look. “Sweet thing, I need you to answer the question, for real.”

“A-ah? Raine? Sorry?”

Raine smiled and swept a hand through her greasy hair. The false sunlight filtered through the leaves, falling in dappled patterns on her shoulders and muscles, dancing down the front of her filthy tank-top as she shifted her footing. “If you notice something wrong, or out of place, or ridiculous, you gotta speak up, ‘cos you might be the only one who can recognise that shit’s getting weird. We’re all dreaming, right? But you’re the only one fully awake. You see something wrong, you gotta tell me.”

“Oh! Oh, right. Of course, um, yes.” I peered around the tree trunk again, squinting at Cygnet Hospital. But then I shook my head. “It’s the whole building, Raine. It’s completely unreal. It’s faux-gothic but built of brick and concrete. If you stare at it head-on it’s clearly got four floors, but if you look at it in your peripheral vision, it stretches up into the sky. From inside it had all these other wings, some of them built differently, like the prison, and the high tech part. But from out here, where are they? And it’s … it’s dead.”

“Dead?” Raine echoed.

I cleared my throat and pulled my yellow blanket tighter around my shoulders. My back was still damp with the cold water from the elevator floor. “Yes, dead. I know, I know it’s silly. How can a building be dead? I know—”

“I don’t know,” Raine said, totally serious, without the slightest hint of mockery. “Tell me.”

I could have kissed her for that, but we didn’t have time to rut in the woods. “Buildings often feel alive, because they’re inhabited by people. The walls and floors and spaces all get full of textures and meanings. Even awful McMansions have some life to them, even if it’s kind of sad. Sometimes you can just look at a place and see that it’s alive, or it used to be alive, even if it’s a ruin. But this … I don’t know how to explain. It’s a dead skull, full of lies.”

“Mmmmm,” Raine grunted. She leaned around the opposite side of the oak tree again, peering at the hospital. “That door there, the metal one, can you see it through the side entrance?”

I squinted across the brightly lit lawns and little pathways, into the shadows of the entrance hall, past the bustling nurses and drifting forms of other patients. Raine was correct — there was the steel security door I’d told her about. No handle. No window. Big black letters on the metal spelled out: V.I.P. VISITORS ROOM. The words were tiny from that far away.

“Just about,” I hissed, as if the nurses might overhear us, a hundred meters distant. “Your eyesight’s very good, Raine.”

“That would be all the pussy I eat.” She carried on before I had a chance to splutter. “That door, that’s the one? That’s where they’re keeping our Evee?”

“Well, probably. I don’t actually know what’s in there. It could be one room, or a whole complex. But yes, that’s where she was taken. That’s where I saw her ‘mother’.”

Raine went silent and still for a long moment, eyes flicking back and forth across the hospital’s main entrance. Eventually she murmured: “Two nurses at the reception desk. Half a dozen more in the entrance hall at any one time. Girls bustling back and forth. Two ways in and out, doors on both of them. I don’t like those odds.”

“You don’t think we can slip inside?”

Raine shook her head. “I think we’ll be spotted before we even reach the doors. I wouldn’t mind leading a bunch of orderlies on an afternoon’s chase around the grounds. Could even get the drop on a few, thin out their numbers. But that won’t help get us to Evee.”

“Tch,” I tutted. “That’s what I was worried about. And where did Lozzie go? Wasn’t she meant to be organising a distraction for us?”

“Give her time,” Raine said.

“Or maybe she failed and got caught,” I hissed, my stomach clenching up. “Oh, please stay safe, Lozzie.”

Raine pulled back into the cover of our convenient oak tree and shot me a grin. “Oh ye of little faith.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to take refuge in Raine’s joke. “How can you have faith in her? In this dream, you barely know her.”

Raine grinned wider. “Heather, Heather, Heather. I don’t have to know her to know she’s good at stirring things up. You can tell that from five minute’s conversation with the girl. I trust her to cause some serious mayhem, once she gets going.”

“I do hope you’re right, Raine, of course I do.” I gestured at the hospital’s front entrance again. “But where is she? We need a plan B. We need a way to get in there, which means we need a change of clothes first. And a proper weapon for you as well, right? I don’t even know where to start!”

Raine’s grin turned dark and mischievous. Warm brown eyes twinkled in the woodland shade. “That’s what you’ve got me for, sweet thing.”

“How?! We can’t get back inside, and even if we could, I don’t know where anything is stored. The only clothes I own are those on my body, right now.” I grabbed the stomach of my thin pajama top and held it out. “Do you just want me to give you this? I will, if that would work.”

Raine shook her head, then gestured at the asylum grounds — at the lawns, the little brick pathways, the benches and the flowerbeds and the occasional wandering patient. “Pick a mark.”

“Ah? What do you mean?”

Raine put on a ridiculous robotic voice: “I need your clothes, your boots, and your motorcycle.”

“ … Raine, sorry, what?”

Raine chuckled. “You don’t know that one, do you? Not much of a head for old action movies?”

“You have completely lost me, yes. What are you talking about?”

“If the only clothes are on people’s backs, that’s where we’ll get them from.” Raine pointed — once, twice, three times, indicating three different patients, three different girls, sitting on benches or walking along the nearby pathways. “Take your pick. Go for loners, not those in pairs. We need easy targets. Think of us like wolves in the forest, stalking the herd. Or maybe we could go see that couple we passed back in the woods. Maybe they’ll already be out of their kit and going at each other. Saves us the time.”

“Oh.” My eyes went wide as I realised she wasn’t joking. “Oh, Raine, you can’t be serious. You can’t. We can’t mug other patients for their clothes!”

“Why not?”

“Wh—” I boggled at her, then realised it was a serious question. “What would we even do with the person afterwards?! They’d go to the nurses straight away. What are we going to do, knock them out? This isn’t a video game, Raine. If you bash somebody on the head hard enough, they don’t drop down and sleep it off. They might get a concussion, or brain damage.” I poked her in the chest, though gently, to emphasise my point. “And before you ask, no, you are not allowed to kill any of the other patients. Not for stolen clothes, not for anything. The nurses and doctors, do whatever you like with them. I’m planning to feed one of them to Zheng, myself. But the patients? No. They’re us. They’re just like I was. I don’t care if this is a dream, that is a red line for both our souls.”

Raine nodded, just once. Total unhesitating acceptance. “Got it, sweet thing. No dead patients.”

A shudder of strange relief went through me. Even like this, Raine took my needs more seriously than her own. I could barely do justice to her. “T-thank you. Good girl. Raine, you’re such a … such a good girl. Thank you. I’m glad you understand.”

Raine grinned, purring between her teeth. “I know I am. But we still gotta get clothes. How about a willing donor?”

I shrugged, still vaguely uncomfortable at the notion. “That would be fine, I think. In principle. Maybe. But where would we find somebody for that?”

Raine eased back from the tree and cast her eyes out across the grounds again — over to our right, away from the hospital’s front entrance and the gravel driveway, where the gardens opened out into rolling lawns punctuated by solitary trees. Over there was far away enough from the hospital that Raine and I wouldn’t draw immediate attention from the nurses in the entrance hall. Many other girls seemed to have the same idea; friend groups had gathered on the grass, sitting in circles or pairs, dozing in the sunlight or playing little games, or picking at the ground in listless conversation.

Raine nodded toward the other patients. “Are they real? The other inmates, not just our group or whatever. The randoms.”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’ve been thinking about that since I woke up here, but I don’t have enough data to draw any conclusions. I … I think they must be ‘real’, somehow, in so far as they existed before this dream. But I don’t think they were human beings. That wouldn’t make any sense, the Eye wasn’t kidnapping hundreds and hundreds of young women. That’s not what it does.”

“Not a rubber monster from a 1950s movie, then,” Raine purred. “Mars didn’t need women, huh?”

I wasn’t quite sure what Raine meant by that, but I nodded along. “Exactly. It only ever took a few people, always twins, and it didn’t store them like this. Well, except Maisie. All these girls, they’re all modern, contemporary, like us. I … I think they might be a metaphor.”

Raine raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For, well, whatever inhabited Wonderland before I broke reality. We’re all here, in this dream asylum, so I think everything else in Wonderland must have gotten sucked in as well. And they’ve been … compressed, turned into a metaphor that I can comprehend. Made into something … observable … ”

I trailed off, running my tongue over my teeth. I felt like I was on to something with that concept, but I wasn’t sure what, not yet.

“But no killing them,” Raine said.

“Yes,” I said, snapping back to the moment. “No killing them. If this is all a metaphor for the inside of the Eye, built with hyperdimensional mathematics, then they’re all victims too. Victims of … that.” I waved a hand at the ridiculous facade of Cygnet Hospital, backed by the black and wrinkled sky.

Raine nodded. “No killing, no beating up, no hog-tying?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“No knife-point mugging? No veiled threats? No stealing clothes and locking one of them up, back in that concrete room, while we rescue Evee?”

I chewed on my lower lip. “Well … I don’t know … ”

“It might be the only way, Heather. You could give them your blanket, for protection.”

I sighed. “I suppose so. If it’s the only way, then … maybe. But no real violence, okay? You have to promise me.”

Raine nodded. “I’ll be a good girl, I promise. Now.” She raised her head and peered through the trees again, out into the bright sunlight beyond the woods. “If we’re gonna do this, we need to do it right first time. No slip ups, no mistakes, no second chances. We need to pick the best good-girl outfits we can.” She squinted and pointed. “How about those three? The ones in the ridiculous school uniforms. You think I’d look good in one of those?”

“Ah?” I went up on tiptoes. Raine held the back of my head and guided my sight-line. She was indicating a trio of girls sitting under a solitary oak tree, on a red-and-white checkered blanket half in the shade, as if they were having a picnic. At that distance the girls were indistinct grey blobs marring the verdant green of the lawns. But I recognised them.

“That’s Twil!” I said. “I spotted her and her friends from the windows, before I went down to break you out.”

“Ahhhhh, one of us, right. The werewolf, yeah?”

“Mmhmm!” I nodded. “Though she doesn’t need a full moon or anything, it’s just at will. Long story. The other two are … well, I don’t know who they are, but I think they’re part of whatever’s keeping her contained.”

“Hmmm,” Raine purred with amusement. “I think I can guess how. Playing out a Marimite fantasy with her dreams. Complete with uniforms and all.” Raine chuckled. “Wonder if she’s the neko or the tachi.”

I frowned at Raine. “The what or the what, sorry? A what fantasy?”

Raine raised her eyebrows in genuine surprise. “Not seen that show, sweet thing? Maria-sama ga miteru. Famous anime show about lesbians, sort of. Not my type, but you know. A friend got me to watch it, years ago. We … we … ”

Raine trailed off. Her eyes scrunched into a squint.

“With Evee?” I prompted; Evelyn was the only person likely to be showing Raine anime lesbians. “Raine, are your memories coming back?”

Raine tilted her head. “Nah. Don’t think so. I remember watching the show, with somebody. But I don’t remember who. Or when. Or why. Huh. Interesting sensation.”

“Hold onto that if you can!” I hissed, smiling with relief. “That’s a memory, it has to be!”

“Mmm,” Raine purred. “Sure thing, but right now we need to focus.” She pointed toward Twil and her two ‘friends’. “That’s two birds with one stone, see? If we can break our Twil out of her little wet dream over there, we’ve got a werewolf, and plan B doesn’t matter any more. We’ll go in the front doors ripping and tearing. But if we can’t do that, we can steal some uniforms, lock one or all of those girls up, and waltz back into the hospital dressed up like a pair of very sensible and upright young ladies. You with me?”

I nodded, squeezing her hand. “I am! But please be careful with Twil, she’s all timid and nervous. Nothing like she is in reality. Be gentle.”

Raine nodded. “She got a thing going on with any of us?”

“No. Well. With Evee, maybe. And she’s into Lozzie. And you and her had a thing, before you and I met, but I think it was just for a week. Something like that.”

Raine grinned and lowered her face toward mine. “Hey, sweet thing, be honest — was I kind of a slut before we met?”

“Tch! No! Of course not.” I cleared my throat. “Well. Apparently you did go through several girls.”

“And did I stop after I met you?”

“Y-yes. Yes, you did.”

Raine kissed me on the forehead, then on the lips; she kept it quick and smooth. “My little squid wife. Perfect in every way. Come on.” She nodded sideways, through the trees and across the asylum grounds. “Let’s go bother the puppy, see if we can make her snarl.”

Raine started to lead the way, pulling me along by one hand. I scurried to keep up.

“But what are we going to do, exactly?” I asked. “I don’t know how to snap her out of this, I don’t even know how to start. She wouldn’t really talk to me, earlier on, back in the dayroom. Her friends just hurried her away.”

Raine shrugged. “We’ll play it by ear. Force an opening. Bully without mercy. Mess with a trio of femmes, basically.”

We crossed beneath the cover of the outstretched tentacle of woodland, beyond sight of any curious watchers inside the front entrance, then emerged out onto the wide lawns of the hospital gardens.

Raine and I walked hand-in-hand — as much for safety as for comfort. We still had no idea what the dream was capable of conjuring to confound our path, and I trusted Raine’s sense for danger more than my own, without the benefit of my tentacles and my six other selves. If we needed to run, all Raine had to do was yank on my hand and I would follow without question. Like a faithful hound protecting her beloved mistress. But nobody paid us much attention, despite Raine’s bloodied knuckles and the gore splattered up her tank top. The other patients were too focused on each other, on staring up at the wrinkled underside of the Eye, or on their murmured conversations. We walked openly down a brick pathway, then alighted onto the bare grass, winding our way past a few lonely trees, deeper into the gardens.

Twil and her companions were gathered in a little circle on their picnic blanket, half in the cool shade of an oak tree. Three pairs of shiny black shoes stood on the grass nearby; how very civilised.

Twil still looked almost nothing like herself. Between the neatly straightened hair, the extra-thick glasses, the immaculate grey school uniform, and the lack of tight, toned, athletic muscle packed onto her compact frame, I wouldn’t have recognised her unless I’d already known. She was sitting on her knees with her lower legs out to one side, a pose of such exaggerated demure femininity which looked bizarre on her. She was reading out loud from an open book on the blanket, the same heavy hardback that she’d clutched to her chest when she’d chastised me earlier that morning.

Words drifted on the air, spoken by a high, gentle, delicate voice.

“—and when the divines had finished joining hand to hand, they gave their chosen maidens three rules by which to live. First, to never stray from faith in one’s own beloved. Second, to never allow jealousy into one’s heart. And third, to welcome all who wish a place alongside us—”

Her two companions were listening to Twil’s recital with looks of serene bliss on their faces. The first — a blonde girl built like a wasp, with perfectly straight hair down to her backside — was kneeling as if praying, eyes closed, taking deep and cleansing breaths. The second — a tomboyish redhead with freckles on her cheeks and athletic legs poking out from beneath her grey skirt — was lying on her back, half in the sunlight, hands folded over her chest.

All three were dressed identically. Grey, grey, grey, ties and blazers and skirts, with starched white shirts and thick black tights to complete the look, and not a single thread out of place.

Twil’s words suddenly cut off with little gasp; her head jerked up, amber eyes going wide with fear behind the thick wall of her glasses. She’d spotted our approach.

Her bodyguards stirred. The redhead sat up suddenly, blinking in the sunlight, squinting at Raine and me. The queen-bee blonde girl twisted to follow the source of Twil’s gasp, then crumpled her face into a furious scowl. She started to rise to her feet, but Twil put a panicked hand on her knee, holding her back. Twil hissed something to the other girl as well, bidding her not to confront us. All three remained seated, watching us approach like a trio of wary cats. The redhead crossed her arms over her chest and regarded us with open hostility. The blonde wore an expression of contemptuous disgust, like we were a pair of mangy dogs covered in our own faeces.

Twil quickly shut her book and pulled it into her lap.

Raine and I walked up to Twil’s open prison — though I tugged gently on Raine’s arm, encouraging her to stop well beyond lunging range. We had no idea what Twil’s bodyguards were capable of. Raine drew to a halt where I suggested, then carefully let go of my hand. She cocked her hips, raised her chin, and pulled the most insufferable sort of cheesy grin.

“Hello there you delightful creatures,” she purred at the trio. “You ladies having yourselves a lovely picnic in the sun? You come here often? Fancy some company?”

The blonde ignored Raine entirely and shot me a toxic sneer. “I thought I told you not to bother Twillamina again. Are you deaf as well as unschooled?”

Carrot-top was frowning at Raine. “Why … why are you covered in blood? Is that your blood?”

Raine shot her a wink. “All in a day’s work, sweetheart. Like what you see? Normally I’d have to charge for the hands-on experience, but you’re so pretty I’ll let you touch for free.”

The redhead blushed and squinted, one hand fluttering to her throat.

I sighed. “Hello again, you three. Yes, it’s me. Please just communicate like people, please. I’ve had enough of this for a hundred days, let alone one.”

The blonde said: “Don’t even talk to us. You don’t know us. Begone, foul stain.”

I made eye contact with Twil instead. She flinched, hands clutching at her hardbound book. “I know you, at least. Hello, Twil. Can you please tell your friends to stop doing this? It’s hard enough to figure out how to get through to you without the ambiguously amorous girl-squad here.”

“Ambiguously?!” the blonde girl hissed with razor-sharp outrage. “Ambiguously?! Are you trying to be vile and rude on purpose?”

The redhead spoke up again, voice husky with irritation. “It’s not ambiguous at all. Any fool can see. We’re in love.”

The blonde reached out to join hands with the other bodyguard — and then both of them reached back to touch Twil, though Twil was blushing beet-red, eyes downcast in girlish modesty. Both the bodyguards glared up at me and Raine, but mostly at me, brows scrunched, eyes narrowed, mouths set and stern and ready for a fight.

I just gaped at them, lost for words.

“Ahhhhhh,” Raine hummed with appreciation. “A classic trio, very nice, very retro. Hey, you’ve even got the three colours. Blonde, brunette, and redhead. A full set, perfect for the cover art. Lemme guess, one of you is sporty, one of you is posh, and one of you is bookish? Have you got a promotional photo where you’re all wearing wedding dresses?”

“Twil,” I said quickly, before either of her lovers could start to argue again. “Twil — this is your nightmare? This can’t be right. You’re not the slightest bit repressed in reality. What is going on here?”

The blonde hissed at me: “Don’t you dare address Twillamina like that! You keep those disgusting little pet names out of your mouth!”

Raine laughed, ignoring the fiction. She addressed Twil: “Hey there werewolf. Apparently you and I know each other, and I may or may not have gotten a taste of your cunt once before. And trust me, Heather’s right. You can be as much of a big lesbo in reality as you want. You need any help with that, you know who to call.” Raine shot Twil a wink, but Twil just blushed harder, lips hesitating over a mortified retort.

“No, no,” I said quickly, waving a hand at Raine. “It’s definitely not that. She could do this sort of thing in reality with incredible ease. Actually, I think she sort of already does. Or, did, past tense, at her school. Kind of.” I returned my attention to Twil. “Please, Twil, you can do this in reality. And you know for a fact that I approve of polyamorous relationships. I wouldn’t have a leg to stand on if I didn’t!” I huffed at myself. “Oh, look, I’m sorry, I know this isn’t your fault. It’s the dream doing all this. I’m just a bit … confused. I thought I was starting to understand this place. This is confounding me.”

Twil’s throat bobbed. She stared at me with a poison cocktail of pity and horror, blinking in fear behind the thick lenses of her glasses. “I-I’m sorry,” she said in that false voice, breathy and soft. “But I don’t know who you are. I’m not your sort of—”

“Yes, yes, yes!” I snapped, waving her down. “‘Not my sort of crazy’. Why do you all keep saying that, here? What does it mean?”

Twil looked utterly bewildered. “I … I’m really sorry. I know you must need help. But I’m not the one to give it. I can’t heal you. Please, please just go back to the nurses. Please take your medicine. Please leave me alone.”

I huffed and rolled my eyes. “Yes, bloody right I need help, Twil! Evee needs help! She’s trapped with her mother, or a dream memory of her mother, or something worse, and we have to get her out—”

Raine muttered: “Which means I’m here to steal your threads.”

“—of there, we have to break into that part of the hospital and save her! And Praem, too, she’s down in the prison, though she may have backup now, I’m not sure.” I carried on without addressing the core problem of Raine’s demand. “Twil, none of this is real. We’re in a dream, or an illusion, or something else. Look at the sky! It’s the underside or the inside of the Eye. This sunlight comes from nowhere. Look.”

Twil raised her eyes, amber glittering in the bright sunlight. She frowned delicately, eyes searching the corrupted firmament. “I … I don’t—”

“Point at the sun,” I said. “Point at the sun. Just point, vaguely. Point for me. You can’t, can you?”

Our conversation must have baffled her pair of dream-like lovers into brief silence, but goading Twil was apparently a step too far. Both of them suddenly burst into snapping, hissing, knife-tongued assault.

“Don’t you dare bully her like that—”

“—endured this from the likes of you her entire life-”

“Just shut up and go away. You’re not wanted here. You’re not appreciated here. You already have the rest of the world, we shan’t let you invade this corner of it!”

“—people always come after poor Twillamina, what has she done to you?”

“—not another word, not another—”

“—and she’s a complete innocent, the sweetest girl in the world—”

“—you acidic snake, you uncouth pagan, you compulsory—”

“—won’t let a single hair on her head come to harm, never again, never while we draw breath—”

I snapped: “Oh, do shut up!”

My voice rang out across the gardens. Several of the nearest groups of girls paused their conversations and glanced toward the commotion. Raine went tense and checked over her shoulder, staring at the distant front doors of the hospital for a few moments, watching for any nurses. I cleared my throat and tried to ignore all the attention. The curious looks drifted away again after they all realised there wasn’t a fight breaking out.

“Just … just stop this, please,” I said. “None of this is even real. And we’re not bullying Twil. We’re her friends. We’re trying to help her.”

The red-headed tomboy looked like she wanted to spit at my feet. She said: “Are you saying we’re not real? Our love isn’t real? Fuck you.”

“No,” I sighed. “That’s not what I … ”

I trailed off and examined Twil’s ‘friends’ again, making eye contact with both of them in turn, trying to figure out what I was dealing with here. Were these two simply figments of the dream, fantasies summoned to keep Twil placid and calm and distracted, to keep her claws and teeth locked up? Or were they real? Were they denizens of Wonderland, processed into a metaphor? Had Twil’s memories or desires made them real? Were they feeling real sensations, thinking real thoughts?

Maybe. Maybe not. But this might go smoother if I assumed they were people. What a silly oversight I’d been making.

“My name is Heather,” I said, forcing myself to sound gentle. “And this is Raine. She’s my girlfriend.”

Raine winked and clucked her tongue by way of proper greeting.

“And what are your names?” I asked.

The two girls shared a wary glance. The redhead answered first: “Lily.”

“Thank you, Lily,” I said with a nod, then turned to the other. “And you are?”

“Lily,” said the queen-bee blonde.

“Yes,” I said. “That’s what I just … ” I trailed off, then sighed. “You both have the same name. Of course you do.”

“We don’t,” said the redhead. “My name is spelled ‘L-i-l-l-y’.” She indicated the blonde girl. “Her’s is L-i-l-i-i. The difference is easy if you listen to how we pronounce them.”

“Lily,” said Lilii, dripping with scorn.

“Lily,” said Lilly, with a sigh and tut.

“See?” said Lilii. “It’s not hard, if you actually care. Which you don’t. As evidenced by your continued behaviour.”

Raine turned aside, dropped into a low squat, and put one hand over her eyes. Her shoulders shook with poorly contained laughter.

“Raine?” I said. “I mean, it’s silly, but … ”

“They’re both called ‘Lily’,” Raine hissed. “Oh yeah, this is prime bullshit.”

Lilii — the blonde — shot to her feet, eyes blazing at Raine. “I shan’t endure this mockery a single moment longer. I just won’t. If you refuse to leave, then I will make you leave. Do not mistake my choice of proper attire or my faith for weakness or lack of resolve. I will slap you so hard your head will spin.”

Raine snorted into her hand, but she didn’t bother to rise from a crouch. “Sure thing, my-name-is-a-metaphor-for-being-a-dyke.”

“Oh,” I said, frowning with realisation. “Oh! Oh, this might be Sevens’ influence! That would be a good thing, I think. If we could just—”

Lilii stepped off the picnic blanket and stamped into her smart black shoes, then marched up to Raine. Behind her, Lilly got to her feet as well, squaring her shoulders and preparing to back up her partner. Twil reached out with a futile gesture of peace, then scrambled to her feet, panting and wide eyed behind her glasses. She clutched her book to her chest like a shield over her heart, her face tiny and pale beneath the helmet of her too-straight hair.

Twil hissed: “Please please p-please d-don’t fight, don’t fight!”

Lilii sneered down at Raine. “Stand up.”

Raine finally stopped laughing. She uncoiled from her crouch, muscles rippling in legs and backside as she rose, turning to face her accuser. She rolled her shoulders back and raised her chin. A dangerous grin played across her lips. Raine and Lilii were about the same height, though Raine had the advantage of perhaps one single inch, and she milked that for all it was worth.

“You will leave,” Lilii hissed. “Both of you, right— eek!”

Lilii flinched as Raine took one step closer, so their faces were separated by less than twelve inches of air. She swallowed and shivered — but stood her ground.

“Don’t give her the satisfaction!” Lilly called. She reached out and grabbed Twil’s arm, steadying her. “It’s okay, darling, it’s okay. We’ll see them off. We will.”

Raine grinned wider, staring into Lilii’s blue eyes. “Or what? Come on, you walking caricature. We leave, or else what? You gonna break a nail on my skull?”

Lilii wrinkled her nose and looked Raine up and down, mouth curling with disgust. “Oh, God, you stink! When was the last time you had a bath?”

Raine rumbled in her throat, like a dog on a leash. She leaned even closer to Lilii, as if intending to kiss her — or bite her.

“Raine,” I hissed softly. “Remember what I said.”

Raine ignored me, eyes locked onto her opponent. “Don’t change the subject, doll-face,” she purred. “You threw down the glove, pissed on the tree, raised your antlers—”

“What are you blathering on about now?” Lilii said. “Ugh.”

“A challenge,” Raine hissed. “You made a challenge. You gotta put your fists where your mouth is now. Or my mouth. If you like. Wanna try? Or are you gonna roll over and let me wear you like a glove?”

Raine rolled her neck from side to side as she spoke, then flexed her fingers outward and curled her hands into fists. My heart lurched. I couldn’t tell if she was being serious or not. Was this just a display, or was she about to start a punch-up?

“Raine!” I hissed again. “Raine, if we start a fight here—”

“Ha!” Lilii barked in Raine’s face. “You think because I practice proper skincare and wash my hair every day, that you can just push me around? You think you’re big and strong because you smell like a barnyard and show off your arms? You’re not the only one of us who can lift weights.”

Raine dropped her eyes to look Lilii up and down, lingering on her grey skirt and smart blouse and matching grey tie. “Oh yeah? You got some muscles under there, stick insect?”

“Yes,” Lilii growled in her face. “And I would prefer that I not be forced to dirty them through use against you.”

Raine grinned a big shit-eating grin. “Aren’t you a little old for a school uniform? Or is that part of the fetish game you three are playing here?”

Lilii raised her chin, mimicking Raine’s pose. “I’m twenty,” she said, as if proud of the fact, eyes blazing with righteous fury. “I can dress however I please.”

I frowned. “In an asylum?”

The other Lilly glanced at me. “You get privileges for good behaviour, you know.”

“Well, I suppose,” I said with a sigh. “But that doesn’t explain—”

Raine lashed out with one bloody-knuckled hand.

Lilii flinched back, but she was too slow; Raine grabbed her grey tie, close to her throat, then pulled on it so the end slipped free of the smart grey blazer. Lilii squeaked in surprise, but Raine yanked on the tie like a leash; Lilii stumbled forward, arms wind-milling to catch her balance. Raine’s bloody knuckles left a dirty red smear down the front of her clean white shirt.

“Unhand me, you brute!” Lilii yelped. “How dare you!? You uncouth, low-bred—”

“You all bark and no bite, girl?” Raine purred in her face. “‘Cos if you keep yapping, I’m gonna ride you down to the ground.”

Raine snapped her teeth shut with a hard clack, inches from Lilii’s face.

I sighed and shook my head; we’d lost control of this situation. Our fault in the first place, we’d blundered into this with only the thinnest of plans. The other Lily — ‘Lilly’ — started to screech an outraged complaint. We had to retreat and try something else, we couldn’t afford a knock-down drag-out fistfight in the middle of the asylum grounds, we’d get spotted by the nurses, or—

Rrrrrrrrrr!

A growl split the air. Low and deep and dangerous, too canine, too hound-like, too animal for any human throat.

It was Twil.

Her lips were peeled back from clenched teeth. Her jaw was clamped tight, muscles and tendons bulging in her neck, amber eyes thrown wide, attention locked onto Raine. Her fancy hardback religious tome dropped from her hands and landed on the blanket with a dull thud. Her arms started to shake. Her growl got louder.

Lilly yelped in sudden panic: “Twillamina! No, girl, no! Down girl, down, down!”

The other Lily — Lilii — stuck one finger into the knot of her captured tie, yanked it forward to loosen the loop around her neck, and then ripped it off over her own head, freeing herself from Raine’s entrapment and sending a wave of platinum blonde hair crashing through the air. She twisted away from us without a second glance, leaping toward Twil to wrap her in a sudden tight embrace. Raine was left holding the rather floppy and sad grey tie.

“Twillamina! Twillamina, shhhhh, shhhh. Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Lilii whispered and crooned into Twil’s ear, hugging her even while Twil growled with raw aggression. Twil wouldn’t look away from Raine, so both Lilies worked together to block her view of her new rival.

“Twil!” I called. “Twil, that’s it, lose your temper! Come on, that’s you, that’s you in there! Twil, you—”

One of the Lillies — the redhead tomboy — whipped back around and glared daggers at me. “You’ve done enough damage! Shut up and let us handle her!” She didn’t wait for a reply, but turned back to Twil, focused completely on her lover.

“There we go,” Raine purred, grinning wide. “She really does sound the part, huh. She gonna grow teeth and claws and all that too?”

I could barely keep up. “Raine, we almost freed her! That’s her! Did you know that would happen?”

Raine shrugged and shot me a grin. “I was just doing what came naturally. Can’t blame me for acting the hound, can you?”

“Of course not!” I said. “Good girl!”

Over on the blanket, Twil had apparently begun to calm down. The growling trailed off. I caught a glimpse of her face, framed by her lovers’ grey blazers — red and sweaty, flushed with embarrassment, amber eyes blinking in confusion, glancing at Raine and me with bewildered horror.

Lilii said: “The nasty people are going to leave now, Twillamina. It’s okay. Everything is okay. Let’s all just sit down and hold hands. Here, everything is going to be okay.”

“Raine!” I snapped. “We can’t give up now, we almost had her!”

“Gotcha, sweet thing,” Raine said. “On it.” She unlooped the stolen grey tie with a flick of her wrist, then wrapped the free end in her other hand and snapped the fabric taut between two fists. “Ladies, ladies! Attention, please! Who wants to get hog-tied and donate a uniform? If you’re real good, I’ll throw in a five-minute fuck to sweeten the deal.”

Raine stepped forward. I hesitated, clutching my yellow blanket to my shoulders, ready to leap in or flee as required.

Twil’s dream-lovers moved as if to wall her off. The blonde raised her fists.

Twil’s eyes snapped wide again. Her lips peeled back. Another growl rose in her throat, drumming on the air, shaking my guts with the animal need to run from a large predator who was about to rip me open and—

A roaring scream sliced across the asylum grounds.

The scream acted like a bucket of cold water dumped on a pair of dogs in heat. Raine’s head whipped round, attention successfully redirected. Twil stopped growling, suddenly up on her tiptoes, eyes scrunched with concern. The pair of Lillies did likewise, peering past Raine and me, interrupted by the sudden commotion.

The scream had come from behind us — from back inside Cygnet Hospital.

And the scream was only the start; the noise was quickly followed by angry shouting, the words too far away to make out, then by the loud crack of something very hard and heavy hitting a wall. A chorus of intentional wailing broke out from inside the entrance hall, drifting out of the front door and across the grounds — not screams of fear or pain, but of defiance and protest and inarticulate outrage.

Girls were gathering around the steps up to the front doors, peering inside, rocking back as if to dodge passing combatants, darting away to fetch friends to come see the unfolding spectacle. A couple of patients emerged, waving their arms excitedly, then plunging back inside again. The rubber-neckers crowded around the entrances, then suddenly surged back as a nurse appeared and urged them to disperse — but she was quickly overwhelmed by the press of curious onlookers, swept back indoors.

The shouting and screaming and slamming noises did not abate. Girls started to stand up from on the lawns, drifting toward the doors to see what on earth was happening.

Raine’s face ripped into a triumphant grin. “Lozzers! She came through for us. A grade-A distraction.”

“Oh,” I said, eyes wide, mouth wider. “Oh, gosh. Oh dear. Um.” I glanced back and forth between the hospital’s front doors and our aborted confrontation with Twil’s dream-lovers. “Uh, we’ll need to, um—”

Raine grabbed my hand. “Executive decision. This is our cue, sweet thing.” She tossed the grey tie back toward its owner; Lilii caught it in one hand, blinking with surprise. Raine shot her a finger-gun and a wink. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten you, barbie-face.” She stuck out her tongue and wiggled it back and forth. “I’ll be back later to gobble you up, bones and all.”

“Sorry!” I yelped at the trio. “We’ll be back for Twil! I-if you want to help, you should come with us! Sorry, sorry!”

Raine laughed with wild abandon and led me on.

We picked up our feet and ran toward the hospital, to make the most of Lozzie’s distraction.