asdfwhut.

couldn't resist, plus this story was tugging at my mind. I decided I HAD to write it.

Disclaymore: I don't own Abarat, nor do I wish to. -points at Christopher- HE SHOULD OWN ABARAT, BUT CLIVE BARKER JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE IN THE WAY.

where the idea came from: Me not being satisfied with the lack of Candy/Carrion moments in Book two(days of magic, nights of war). This starts where she slides/falls off the ladder of the Dead Man's House, which is on Page 351 in case you want to check.

If I were candy, i would have totally showed Carrion my dreams. :3 -total fangirl-

Candy's arms flailed. She let out a shriek that died on the storm's icy wind before even Carrion could hear it.

Then she fell, face-up, blacking out.

She dimly felt Midnight's arm catch her; the girl tried to fight it, but was no match for his strength, possibly not even when at the peak of her own.

-.-

"Bat!"

"Yes, Prince?" A high, quavery voice greeted him instantly.

Christopher Carrion looked at the small waiflike form in front of him. She had a very circular face, with red eyes that took up most of the space in it. Pointed ears with the points ending in muted violet, and white hair that occasionally took on a golden glint. Some sort of corset and shimmering pinky gold skirt with ballet-esque slippers; everything she wore had a muted quality to it, except for her eyes. He had found her in the mines on Gorgossium; she had such a fetching voice he kept her around for the pleasures of listening to it.

However, the housekeeper of the Dead Man's House thought she would make more use as an assistant rather than a singer. Carrion took note that Bat, as he called her(her full name was too long to memorize properly, let alone pronounce), never wore the formal uniform his servants and butlers and even washing women wore of a navy blue suit with equally navy blue, highly polished shoes.

"You know of my...visitor, correct?"

"Aye, Prince."

"I wish for you to tend to her. Lay out another set of clothing next to her bed, on one of the small tables. Then notify me when she comes to."

"Anything else, my Prince?" Bat asked.

"That is all."

Bat quickly scampered off to do Midnight's bidding.

-.-.-

Candy had dreams.

Dreams of Mischief and his brothers and Malingo.

Dreams of some sort of soothing lullaby.

Dreams of a brown-skinned man with red dreadlocks, and frighteningly green eyes, but a warm and ready smile.

Candy also had nightmares.

Nightmares of Carrion's cool hand stroking her forehead.

Nightmares of Carrion's grotesquerie in all its naked glory.

Nightmares of Midnight himself.

Once, she had heard voices and felt something warm cocooning her in its embrace; maybe she had waken up on occasion?

Candy could feel herself awakening from a long slumber. She wanted to stay in the fog of sleep, but sleep wouldn't keep her any longer.

Candy didn't open her eyes; the bed she was in was so comfortable, maybe sleep would reclaim her. Wait. This bed felt similar to the one she had found herself in before, when Letheo had taken her to the Dead Man's House. She had fainted, and then found a new set of clothing next to her when she had waken up.

"I can tell you're awake, lady. Open your eyes." A childlike voice, soft and musical, greeted her ears.

Candy opened her eyes to find a strange girl staring at her with humongous red eyes and white hair in some sort of long skirt. But only for a moment. The girl had quickly darted off a few seconds after she opened her eyes. And then, a few moments later, a flickering light appeared on the wall behind her doorway.

No, she mentally cried.

She couldn't be in the Dead Man's House, could she?

All she remembered was being cold and snow and blacking out.

Carrion had managed to keep her from death, if only just.

But why, the question lingered.

All this zoomed through her mind as a tendril of black cloth, a glare of some reflective surface, and then the Lord of Midnight himself entered.