Amurehna

There was a dream before this one but I don't really remember it. I'm traversing the highest part of a vast, sprawling city in the quietest part of the night, swinging, leaping, running. I get so carried away that I forget where I'm going. I stop, thinking I've gone too far, and that now I'm a section of the city that I don't recognize.
I stare down at the street corner. It has a lonely, deserted feel. The building is curved to match the street corner, and there's a wide band of red neon flickering hectically. Just beyond that is an abandoned bank. The IBC sign hangs down over the street, it used to be a neon sign as well, all the letters overlap. The longer I look at it the more familiar it seems.
I drop down to the street and into another persona. I'm a cop, I've tracked two young men here. They've gone on a crime spree across every sector of the city. The last being the murder of a city official and taking the official's wife Becka as a hostage. They seemed frantic, terrified. Like birds startled into flight, they fled and settled here. I creep inside the building. It's tiny. Just a front desk hugging the right-hand wall and a couple of glass-walled offices. They have broken the last glass panel and are inside the office. The lights flicker. The walls are a warm cream color, the glass framing dark bronze.
For a second I think I see a fox-like red dog dusted with shattered glass, delicately stepping over the shards, trying not to damage her paws. She looks at me for a moment. Then It's Becka, the red-headed official's wife, looking at me. Like a moron she steals the element of surprise from me. She sees the gun in my hand and pleads loudly for me not to kill her.
I lower my weapon and approach the room. Inside two young men, brothers, are setting up a camera. They are both dark haired and blue eyed, wearing navy t-shirts. One is in the middle of a hysterical tirade. Neither of them seem to concerned about my presence.
"They're everywhere--we can't be certain who has been taken." He sets up a tripod and tosses a length of cable to his brother.
"I'm only concerned about your hostage..." I break in. They glance at me.
"She's not a hostage! Once we showed her her husbands true face, she came with us willingly."
I look at the tall red-headed woman trying to figure out of they're telling the truth, but I can only see her profile. I frown a little.
"What do you mean?"
"They've been staging a silent take over for a while now. Fae demons who wear the skins of men, ghosts possessing our families!" The young man says, I glance at his brother. His brother rolls his eyes, I know that the other brother is the only believer here. He notices me looking and schools his face into passivity. "We'll open the door, and show everyone their plan. Is the Key ready?"
"Yeah Bran--"
"Such fools." Becka says quietly. For a second I think she's talking about people in general. "Did you really think you'd get away with this?"
My realization is quick, how perfectly she infiltrated their little group. They go on their crime spree, seem to take a hostage, and all the while she's planning to murder them. Who would question a captive killing her captors? She wouldn't even have to break her cover as the Official's wife. As I look at her, her eyes change from dark brown to...glass filled with white mist and curlings of blue-gray smoke. Over Bran's shoulder I see that the portal is open. There's a dark green square of land with a group of tall fae women.

I'm standing in a weathered-wood pig pen. The gate is even open. On a raised platform to my back, the tall fae women sit on elegant stools and chairs. They lounge there, waiting. They're all dressed in long gowns with elaborate jewelry. They are not really concerned with restraining me. I walk through the open gate, feigning a casual stroll. I check the back of my belt for the small knife I usually keep there. It's missing, of course. One of them laughs derisively, "Humans."
"Becka" is standing all the way on the other side of the square of land, there's a fence and wheat reaching a few feet taller than even her. There's a stirring in the wheat. She frowns at it.
"Boys got away, did they?" I ask no one in particular.
"Not for long, I'm afraid." A woman answers.
Becka turns back toward, out of the corner of my eye I see someone duck under the fence next to me, into another patch of cultivated land. I walk slowly, very conspicuously, toward it.
"Look, she's trying to escape." Someone says mirthfully. It's probably a good thing that they underestimate me. I break for the fence, but I can't climb over the top. They've set up chicken wire in a cage over the area. Becka runs at me bears me to the ground. I struggle wildly, wiggle free enough to kick her hard in the shoulder. I scramble under the lowest bar of the fence and as I'm regaining my feet her hand swipes at my ankle. I dance away into a run. There isn't much room in here. There's only a foot and a half between the rows of a vine with dark glossy spear-head leaves and bright red flowers. They grow up into the chicken-wire cage and around, then down again into the earth. I can feel her right behind me, I dodge around a corner as she makes a grab for my shirt.
I can't believe how fast I'm moving, but she's keeping pace with me, I can't seem to shake her. I take a right, feeling leaves slap my face. I turn again, hitting the dividing rail hard, squeezing into the space between the last row of vines and a low wall with a galvanized metal planter with new plants in them.
I hear her curse behind me. I'm a small woman, I don't have trouble running here. Becka is built a lot larger, wide at the shoulders. I smile a little. I can see the corner of the plant cage from here. It's just a matter of finding a gap I can climb through. I run to the corner, I know she's moved back into the adjacent row. I'm turning right and see my way out. As I reach it she knocks me to the ground. She pulls my knife from behind her back, on her downward stab I somehow smack it from her hand. It hits the dirt. I scramble toward it. She grabs it before I can.
There's a sort of galvanized trap door. On the hood is the knife Denna from The Name of the Wind carries, a thin sharp blade with leather wrapped around one end. It glitters in the light. I wonder if Becka has noticed it. I dearly hope not, I would love to use it. I look at the knife hungrily, almost.
There's loud crash and she looks over her shoulder, startled. I use the distraction to crawl through the trap door.

I've lost my pursuers in a crowd. The building feels somewhere between a mall and a university. I insinuate myself into a group. I notice a weird shop, with a yellow neon sign. I hear a girl saying that she might need to stop in there to have her skin tightened.
"They sell skin tightening here?" I ask, intrigued.
We reach an arched ramp, and at the bottom I can see the last door that will take me to freedom. She tells me about it and I turn around to go look at the shop. Then I wonder what the hell I'm doing and why I would even need skin tightening. I turn back to the ramp. Near the door, standing guard is Brienne of Tarth, looking like the actress who plays her on Game of Thrones. She's sitting in a chair, one leg extended, arms crossed over her chest. Her bare arms, neck and side of her face have angular designs in faded woad. I hesitate. I know that she would joylessly take me in, since it was her duty to follow the orders of the Fae queen. Even if she didn't want to. She is looking away, now's my chance.
I hurry past her, my hands are on the bar of the glass door---
I wake up.