A/N: What? No comments on Mirana's unruly behavior towards Freddie? Come on, you're killin' me! :P

Hope this chapter doesn't get too confusing. It switches back and forth between Lizzie and Fred so you can see how things are playing out in real time.

"There are visions, there are memories.
there are echoes of thundering hooves.
There are fires, there is laughter,
there's the sound of a thousand doves..

Cascading stars on the slumbering hills -
they are dancing as far as the sea.
Riding o'er the land, you can feel its gentle hand
leading on to its destiny.

Ride on through the night,
Ride on.."

-Loreena McKennitt

Lizzie sat by the window, watching the falling snow. The sun would be setting soon and she could hardly keep her eyes open. She had slept only fitfully the night before, but was determined to stay awake until she heard from Freddie again. The worry that had visited her that morning had now settled in her guts.

She felt useless here, snuggled away in their cozy cabin, not knowing what was happening. Fleetingly, she thought of riding to Marmoreal herself, but she knew that was just foolishness – she didn't even know the way, and she was probably just overreacting.

Her head rested drowsily in the crook of her arm and she missed the purple smoke that began to swirl around the legs of the table and up around her head.

"You look as bad as he does," remarked Chess when he'd materialized.

Lizzie sat up with a start. "Chess! What the hell's going on? Freddie talked to me this morning and told me he was going to Marmoreal and I haven't heard from him since."

"That's probably because he's not wearing these." The cat tossed the chain down on the table in front of her.

She jumped up from the table and picked the chain up with shaking hands. On it were Freddie's wedding band and promise ring – just like hers had been before. "What are you telling me," she cried, "that he's dead?"

The cat seemed to waffle a bit, Freddie hadn't sworn him not to tell Lizzie, but he wasn't quite sure what it was he wasn't supposed to tell in the first place. "Um...no, not yet."

"What do you mean, 'not yet'?" she yelled. "Why did he give you his rings, what's he planning on doing?"

The cat flicked his tail irritably. "I don't know, he wouldn't tell me. He's been acting strange ever since he showed up with that bloody horn."

"The horn? He told me he was going to destroy it!"

"Destroy it?" Chess looked at her like she'd gone crazy. "He can't destroy it, he's bound to it. If he was to so much as let it go...he'd..." He suddenly realized he'd missed the entire point of his conversation with the man and that coming here to talk with Lizzie had been a catastrophic mistake, mind the pun. "I'm sorry, Lizzie, but if he plans on destroying the horn and the Army of the Dead, Underland will be forever in his debt." The cat vanished in a puff of purple smoke, leaving her alone.

Fred left the castle and wandered through the inner courtyard. His fingers brushed the trunk of one of the apple trees as he passed by it, feeling the roughness of the bark and remembering a night filled with light and blossoms. There were no lanterns lighting Marmoreal tonight and the branches were stark and bleak with winter. He didn't want to go through the main gate, didn't want to do what had to be done, but he knew it was unavoidable and his feet took him there before his mind had settled on a direction. The oil fires burning in the moat lit up the gray clouds above and reflected off the snow, bathing the area around Marmoreal in an eerie eternal daylight. The dead stood unmoving, like broken husks of grain, forgotten by the thresher.

He had to walk through them to get to the outside and as much as it terrified him, he forced himself to raise his eyes and look at the ones he so unenthusiastically now commanded. He'd called them an army - called them soldiers, but his heart ached for what they truly were. These men and women in ragged grave clothes were all that was left of his past, his family, his clan - their bodies called back for this macabre service while their souls, unaware, slumbered peacefully still. He was wretchedly afraid he would see someone he recognized. After the battle, he would do what must be done to set things right - not only with the instrument that called them from the grave – but for the dead of Iplam and Witzend as well.

Lizzie fingered the rings absently, wondering what she should do. Without their connection, she had no hope of finding him at all, no clue as to what he was doing or planned to do, but there was no way she was was going to sit here waiting for someone to come and tell her her husband was dead. No one in the village would be able to help her, in fact there was only one she knew might have the power to find him and show her the way. She slipped the chain around her neck and lay down on the bed. As exhausted as she was, an hour passed before her mind stopped it's anxious waiting and relaxed enough for sleep to come.

It was after midnight when they saw the first torches of the huntsmen burning brightly on the plains of Snud. They spread out across the horizon like a false sunrise or, to Fred, like a distant city with it's streetlights reflecting off the clouds in a warm glow. He took his place at the rear, his hands sweaty as they felt nervously for the horn around his neck.

Lizzie sank deeper into sleep and finally found herself where she wanted to be – running down the valley towards the only hope she had. It had always been peaceful in the dream, the crystal palace gleaming brightly. Now as she ran towards it, the sky seemed to reflect her own emotions. The clouds rolled in black waves obscuring the sun and the wind whipped her dress fitfully around her ankles. She crawled through the entrance, almost afraid the child would be gone, but he was there and his eyes met hers immediately. Something was wrong with him as well, and she realized that the storm around the palace was not reflecting her own distress, but his. He knew

.

Glass littered the translucent floor. Carefully, she picked her way around the shards until she knelt next to him. She took his hands, so small and cold, in hers.

"I have to find your father," she said, "but I can't. I don't have the gift that you and he share. Can you help me?"

[I can't find him, either.] The small voice in her mind sounded so defeated, so lost, it brought tears to her eyes.

"Is there any way at all?"

[Yes, but...] Tears rolled down his face. "I'm scared," he whispered. It was the first time she'd actually heard him speak.

She wrapped her arms around his little body and drew him close. "I know you must be. I wish there was some way I could help you."

"Will you stay with me? If you stay, it won't be so scary."

She smiled down at him. "I'll stay as long as you need me to."

He stood back from her, took her hands again and placed his forehead against hers. [Close your eyes.]

She closed her eyes and waited. The wind became stronger and stronger outside the palace until it keened through the crevices as though a cyclone bore down upon them. She tried to relax and concentrate on the child and felt his mind and hers touch. As they did, the sound of exploding glass erupted around them as the storm swallowed them – mother and child together. Lizzie held fast to their tenuous bond, never daring to open her eyes. She brought the cloak she was wearing up around his shoulders, sheltering them the best she could. The earth, the whole of Underland seemed to move underneath and above her and she suddenly felt it – the entire realm - join with their minds as though it were an encyclopedia to be used for it's knowledge. She felt the child searching for his father. She thought about Marmoreal where he should be and he took her cue and narrowed his search until finally, he found him.

Like a bird, soaring high overhead she saw the armies meet each other, the huntsmen toppling from their horses as the dead soldiers made they charged. The vision switched and swooped down upon a lone figure at dawn, trudging wearily through the snow towards what Lizzie could see was a door - and she knew it was a door to nowhere, a door to death. Behind Freddie followed the Army of the Dead.

[How do we find him?] she asked.

At once, as upon her command, the path raced backwards, away from her husband, past Marmoreal, through a door, through the desolate plains of Iplam, through another door and finally back to her cabin until she beheld herself, sleeping on her bed.

The connection broke then and she was back in the palace, which was once more as she had always remembered it. The sun shone through the crystals.

[We found him] said the child, smiling.

She kissed his cheek. [Thanks to you. I have to wake up now...]

The men of Snud, Marmoreal, and Queast fanned out in front of the Army of the Dead. The plan had been amended slightly and they would need to be there only as long as it took the Northern Army to charge- themselves retreating past the ranks of the dead to the safety of Marmoreal behind them as Fred sounded the order for dead to attack.

The glow became brighter and closer until he could see the individual torches, bobbing with the riders. Half a mile out, they stopped and Fred knew the order to charge would come any second. A restless shuffle passed through the men who waited. He could hear Tarrant calling them to wait and not run until he gave the order.

Far in the distance, a hunting horn sounded the order.

It was well after nightfall when Lizzie awoke. She dressed quickly in the warmest clothes she could find- most of which were Freddie's. Fortunately he had extra riding gear for when he had been running patrols so that he would always have a dry set. She threw the riding tunic over her head and pulled his leather pants on and cinched them as tightly as she could. Her own leather boots would do, but she put his leather gloves on as well. She threw her cloak around her shoulders, wishing she had a heavier one, and ran to the stables.

She was surprised to find the white mare, Llewyn, that Freddie usually rode was still there. "Freddie didn't ride you yesterday?"

The mare tossed her head and spoke with a voice surprisingly soft for such a large creature. "No, he was afraid the men wouldn't be able to keep up." A thread of pride wound through her answer. "He took Ulyngar instead. Are you in need of assistance?"

"Yes! I need to get to Marmoreal before dawn."

"Dear, I'm fast - but not that fast I'm afraid."

Lizzie grinned. "Don't worry, I know some shortcuts."

She saddled the mare and was about to leave when she noticed a white cloak hanging on the door, much heavier than her own. She hated to borrow without asking, but tonight was a special circumstance. She threw it around her shoulders and climbed onto the white mare. Together they raced towards the Outland Mountains.

The Army of the North barreled across the plain, the torches abandoned and instead the fire from Marmoreal's glinted off the swords they'd drawn. They raced closer and closer until at last Tarrant gave the order to retreat. The men from the front lines raced around the Army of the Dead, still standing motionless behind them. He heard the shouts from the huntsmen, who – seeing the men flee – thought they had won the day. Fred waited until their momentum and arrogance carried them through into the midst of the second army. He raised the horn to his lips and sounded the attack.

At first, Lizzie was worried she might forget the way, having only seen it once in a dream and that going backwards, but her mind emblazoned the path before her like a blue line of lightening, stretching out over the ground into the darkness. She had no idea how such magic could happen, but after the dreams she'd had over the past week, knew better than to question it. On and on through the darkness, the mare sped down the trail through the frozen woods. Eventually they came to the foothills of the mountains and Lizzie directed her towards where they would find the first door. It was strange, being so sure of something she had never seen before (or if she had, she couldn't remember). The blue line of light ended at a face of rock, just below the outline of a door. She climbed off Llewyn's back and almost disbelievingly turned the knob and pulled. The door swung open before her, revealing the flat, snow covered plains of Iplam.

The horse whinnied softly as Lizzie held the door open for her. "That's some shortcut..."

The door closed behind them and they were off again, traveling north to a door that would lead directly to Marmoreal. They were making good time until they came to the door that they needed to use in northern Iplam. The path ended at a point in the middle of nowhere, but there was no door in sight.

At the sound of the horn, the automatons that were the Army of the Dead sprang to life, and slashed viciously at the unsuspecting huntsmen in their midst. Man and beast alike fell beneath the onslaught, and Fred turned away, unwilling to watch the gruesome, one sided battle. The few huntsmen who had been able to fight their way free retreated into the darkness beyond. It was over well before the dawn. Freddie called the army to stop and climbed down from Ulyngar.

"I don't understand," said Lizzie. "There should be a door here."

"This land was ravaged many years ago, much that was here before is not."

"Yes, but..." Surely the vision wouldn't have given her a direction to a door that didn't exist anymore. She knelt down where the door should be and dug at the snow. Luckily the wind had swept most of it from the area and it wasn't more than a few inches deep. Her hands hit something hard beneath the snow and she pushed more of it aside, revealing part of what had to be the door. She hurriedly cleared the rest from the top of it. Crouching beside it, she turned the knob and pulled it up and open. The world inside it was skewed. If they were to drop through the door like this, they would surely break their legs.
"We're going to have to try and raise it."

"I would help if I could see it."

Lizzie tried to raise the top of the door, but could only manage about an inch off the ground. Whatever wood it was made of, it was solid. She looked up at the sky. It was still dark, but the stars were fading and she knew if they didn't raise the door soon, they wouldn't be there in time.

"I wish we'd brought some rope. Would you be able to pull it up if I wrapped the reins around the handle?"

"I can pull it if you can fasten it."

Lizzie took the reins and pulled them over Llewyn's head to the front. She wrapped them tightly around the knob.

"Wait," said the horse. "It won't matter much if I can raise it if we've nothing to brace it against."

"There's nothing here." The plain before them was bare as far as the eye could see.

"How about that drift over there? How deep is the snow?"

Lizzie ran over to the drift and dug into the snow. It was about two feet. "I think it will work if we can lean it up here against it."

The mare dragged the door slowly over to the drift and together, pushing, lifting, and pulling, the two managed to slide it into the trench dug in front. Lizzie packed as much snow behind it as she could until it leaned up precariously on its own. She opened it up just as the first pink clouds of dawn streaked across the gray sky.

A/N: A bit of a short chapter, the next one is short as well, but there's so much going on I didn't want to put the two together.

So...are ya' nervous, yet? Will Lizzie get there in time? (Well, of course she will, but that's not really the point of the next chapter...insert evil grin here...)