by Cameron Jace
“That’s not quite right,” I counter back. “Lewis gave me a key.”
“Lewis gave you the bullet Carolus wanted to use to kill him. It just happened to look like a key.”
I grimace. Things are twisting too much in my head. “How about the key I found in my stepsister’s house? The one the Pillar fooled me to get.”
“That was just a key you liked when you were a kid in that house,” the March says. “The Pillar played you to get it, but it’s nothing like the Six Keys.”
“How do you know this, March?”
“It’s all written on the walls, Alice. Patient 14 is very important. We need to know more about him. We need to know how all of this is possible and how he has the Six Keys.”
“That’s if he isn’t just an insane patient in an asylum,” I say, unable to guess who it could be.
55
White Hearts Hospital
Lewis Carroll had just told Fabiola about Patient 14. How he supposedly knew about the Keys, and how Waltraud and Ogier chased him for so long. But then the conversation stopped and he wouldn’t say more.
Instead, he insisted that Fabiola should work on finding her healing powers within her mind and so find a way to cure her wounds, so she could get up and help the Inklings.
“It’s not that easy,” Fabiola said. “Some of my wounds have healed, but not enough to get up and fight.”
“You have it in you, Fabiola,” Lewis insisted. “Be true to yourself. Free your mind and trust in what matters the most.”
“Power talk won’t work on me, Lewis. I’m not a child.”
“I know you aren’t. But my books don’t just influence children. Adults as well. Trust in your own self.”
“Even if I do,” she said. “I haven’t made up my mind about Alice.”
“You have to before it’s too late.”
“It’s hard to choose.”
“These are not times to stay in the grey, Fabiola. These are times of black and white. Black Chess and Inklings. Choose a side or drown in the current of the river in between.”
“If you tell me about Patient 14, I will choose a side.” Fabiola was left with no other choice but to bargain.
Lewis sat down and laced his hands. The rabbit ducked into his pocket, remaining silent as if it knew some secret and feared speaking would spoil it.
“You once asked me what the Wonderland War is about,” Lewis began.
“And you said ‘the most precious thing.’”
“Indeed. I’m not going to tell you what it is about right now because you may not understand. But I’m going to tell you that the Six Keys make or break it in winning this war.”
“That’s a given already.”
“The Six Keys were once in my possession.”
“I could imagine that too, though I was never sure.”
“I’ve always thought they were safe with me.”
“They should be.”
Lewis raised his head and met her eyes. “That’s not quite true,” he said. “At some point I feared I would misuse them.”
“Don’t be silly, Lewis. You? Misuse such a precious thing?”
“Not exactly me. But my other me.”
“Carolus?”
He nodded. “After Alice left to join Him and Black Chess, I lost it. I began to stutter. I missed her so much. And the migraines returned. This time severe and brutal. I was changing inside. Carolus was taking over. The evil side of me. He wanted to join Alice. Black Chess. I had to fool him. I needed to find a way to hide the Keys from the other me inside.”
“Oh, Lewis. I can’t imagine…” Fabiola stopped midway, her mind reeling with possibilities. “Did Carolus get them? Is that why he is working for the Queen of Hearts?”
The rabbit bobbed its head out of Lewis Carroll’s pocket. “The Queen of Hearts is dead!”
Lewis gently patted the rabbit back into his pocket. “No. The Keys aren’t with Carolus.”
“But you seem to know who has them, right?”
“I do,” he said, sounding embarrassed. “In a way.”
“Another puzzle?” Fabiola chuckled.
“I gave the Keys to someone.”
“You did? Who?”
“I can’t remember.”
“Really?” Fabiola was furious. “What’s with everyone not remembering? It’s such a cliché.”
“I had to make myself forget, deliberately.”
“You did what?”
“If Carolus knew about the new keeper of the Keys he would have told Black Chess.”
“I see.”
“I gave the Keys to someone while Carolus wasn’t present, then chewed a rare flower that helped me forget this particular memory.”
“Oh, Lewis. That’s foolish.”
“I know, but it seemed smart at the time.”
“So you have no idea to whom you have given them?”
“I don’t,” Lewis said. “But he does.” He pointed at the rabbit sticking its head out. “I’m not sure, but he claims he knows.”
Fabiola turned to the rabbit. And without asking, the rabbit said: “Patient 14.”
56
The Radcliffe Asylum
The March Hare guides me through the many writings on the wall throughout the asylum. It’s hard to grasp the corridors within the corridors in this place. He and the Mushroomers have discovered numerous doors leading to more cells. I could ask Tom about these secret places, but I’m assuming he will lie to me for one reason or another. What matters is to know more about Patient 14. And hope one of these doors has a way out.
“Alice?” Constance says on the walkie-talkie.
“Yes, Constance? Are you all right?”
“Shit really smells bad.”
The March giggles as we search the walls. I can already see him connected with Constance. Both, in a twisted way, are children after all.
“I know, sweetie,” I tell her. “You still can crawl back you know.”
“Don’t talk to me as if I’m a child. I’m tens of girls in one body. I’m much older than you.”
“Doesn’t mean you aren't a child anymore,” the March says over my shoulder, wanting to kiss the walkie-talkie.
“I will not address you as a child,” I promise her. “Tell me, are you seeing any exits?”
“Not yet. The problem is that I’ve come across many side tunnels and I’m not sure if I should have chosen one of them.”
“I’d stay in the main tunnel. This guarantees you can find your way back.”
“I’m not coming back before I save us all.”
Boy, the girl is a superhero. She makes me look like a second-hand imposter.
“I’ll buzz you when I find something,” she says and returns to silence.
Behind me the March is looking for more writing on the wall. The ones we come across now are repetitive, reciting the story about Him and me. A tiny portion of me wonders if the Pillar had a reason to kill my family. It’s absurd, but I can’t explain his effect on me. His morbid and dark charm.
Could it be that he didn’t kill them? Could it be that my family sent him to save me and he doesn’t want to expose them?
I don’t know, but any chance of him being my father has dissolved into thin air — unless there is a major twist I can’t see coming.
“Here,” the March says. “I found the jackpot.”
“Really?” I kneel next to him. “What does the writing say?”
“It actually says where the Six Keys are.” The March’s ears prick with enthusiasm.
“That’s too easy, March. It couldn't be.”
“It would be if it told about a certain place. This isn't so. It’s kind of a puzzle.”
“Let me see.” I take the flashlight and point it at the wall. The writing is curvy but readable:
Lewis Carroll had no choice but give the Six Keys away. This or his darker half, known as Carolus, would have found them. Carolus was loyal to Black Chess. He arose when Lewis had been occasionally weakened b
y his migraines.
“This is too straight forward, unlike his previous writings,” I say to the March. “Are you sure this is Patient 14’s writing?”
“It’s the same handwriting, I guarantee that.”
I turn back and keep reading:
Lewis had to find someone to pass the Keys to. Though I never understood why, he chose me. I’m far from being a hero, but I accepted the challenge because Lewis was in pain. I loved him and didn’t want to see him like that. I took the Keys willingly and watched him feed himself a flower that made him forget he gave them to me. He did it so Carolus would never find the Keys.
“A complicated story, that is,” I say. “But it’s believable.”
“Read on, Alice,” the March’s curiousness shone on his voice. “We need to know who Patient 14 is, and where we can find him.”
I read on:
The Keys were a burden like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Many, many years later I watched a movie called The Lord of the Rings where a hobbit named Frodo carried the same burden of a ring. I really felt for him.
“I love The Lord of the Rings.” The March’s eyes widened. “I’d like to watch it again now.”
“Not now, March. This is serious.” I elbow him and read on:
There is too much that happened since, but I can’t write it on this wall. All I can say, trapped in this asylum, tortured by the evil Tweedledum and Dee, is that I came to a conclusion like Lewis’. I’ve decided to forget about the Keys.
“That’s not good at all.” The March’s face dimmed.
I concentrate on reading the rest:
I didn’t need a flower to chew. In my situation, all I had to do was to give in to the warden’s torture. The Mush Room did for me what the flower did for Carroll. But now I realized I am so close to forgetting about the Keys, and I’ve managed to send Lewis a note. I did it through a Mushroomer who’d been pardoned by the court. The message was simple. ‘The Keys are with me. You gave them to me. I’m Patient 14.’
“So Lewis did know about this all this time,” I mumble.
“But he only knew about Patient 14. Never knew his real name or where to really find him.”
“Since a Mushroomer passed the note on, he would have guessed Patient 14 was in the asylum.”
“We don’t know that Lewis knew this was a Mushroomer, but anyways.” The March rubbed his chin, thinking. “Why didn’t Patient 14 just tell Lewis the whole story? Why the codes?”
I knew why, and I pointed at the rest of the writing:
I couldn’t bring myself to tell it to Lewis in the note. For one, I didn’t much trust this Mushroomer. Secondly, who knew in whose hand the note would end up? Thirdly, I feared that Carolus had taken over and would read the note instead of Lewis. I’m sorry I did that, but I needed to forget about the Keys. They were driving me crazy. I couldn't handle such a burden, especially when I knew what they were for. You cannot imagine what power the Keys hold.
“I’d really like to know,” I say.
The March nods agreeably. “Read that last part, Alice,” he says, chin on my shoulder, face like a cute bulldog. “That’s the part I was telling you about. The puzzle part.”
I read on:
As a last resort I’ve decided to tell you, whoever is reading this, and believes in it, where the Keys are. I’ve hidden them too, but in a place Black Chess would never find. I’ll tell you where they are. It’s sort of a puzzle. But if you’re meant to find it, you, and only you, will solve it.
I glance at the puzzle underneath. It doesn’t make sense, and I don’t think I’m the one to solve it, but it’s the first concrete clue toward the Six Keys since I’ve learned about them. It says:
I’ve hidden the Keys in plain sight.
A place so bright in the dark of the night.
Are you the one to get it right?
I’ve hidden the Keys in a (…) of light.
“I love it.” The March clapped his hands. “I love puzzles. All we have to do is find the missing word before of light.”
57
Some Creepy Castle in London
Mr. Jay’s face wasn’t visible in the dark, but his employees could glimpse his faint silhouette by the desk at the end of the room. They could also hear a hollow voice and the smoke that occasionally came out of whatever he smoked in there. His employees lowered their heads, narrowed their knees, and laced their hands in obedience, waiting for him to talk.
“He killed Nutty?” Mr. Jay’s voice came from the dark.
The employees hesitated, not sure what to say. One of them had the courage to ask, “Who’s Nutty?”
“Nutty!” Mr. Jay said. “Nutty Peanuts Coconut Nutcracker.”
Mr. Jay wasn’t one to crack jokes, nor did his voice imply mockery. He was dead serious. The situation was serious, too. The employees worried he’d end up burning one of them, like he always did when disappointed.
“Who is Nutty Peanuts Coconut Nutcracker?” one of the employees asked.
“The Queen of Hearts,” Mr. Jay roared and shot the man dead from the dark. A silencer, precise and efficient. Mr. Jay liked to kill calmly, as if saying hello to someone.
The rest of the employees narrowed their legs even more, suppressing a whole lot of laughter. The Queen of Hearts real name was Nutty?
“Yes, Mr. Jay,” one employee said. “Nutty—I mean the Queen of Hearts is dead.”
“Shot in the head,” another said.
“The Pillar shot her,” a third contributed, as if Mr. Jay hadn’t seen it on TV.
“I want the Pillar.” Mr. Jay rapped an unseen hand on the desk. “I want no excuses. I want him alive. I want him to beg for his life. I want to burn him alive.”
The employees promised they would find him, though none of them knew where the Pillar escaped to after shooting the Queen, Margaret, and Jack.
“What about Alice?” one employee asked.
“Alice will die. She can’t make it without the Pillar,” Mr. Jay said. “It’s still a mystery to me why the Pillar left without getting what he’s been after all along.”
“Maybe he did find it, Mr. Jay.”
“He didn’t. I know that for a fact. Today was supposed to be a new birthday for Black Chess, but the Pillar turned it into a funeral.”
The employees exchanged worried looks again. None of them wanted Mr. Jay’s anger to spark.
“So Black Chess’ plans failed?” an employees asked.
“I never fail,” Mr. Jay said. “I have a Plan B.”
“You do?”
“I always have. I had thought this to be my last card, but it seems like I’m going to lay it out sooner than I thought.”
“Would you mind sharing it, Mr. Jay?”
A long silence invaded the darkness. Then Mr. Jay said, “A war is coming. One that I’ve won before it’s even begun. It’s just that none of the Inklings gets it yet.”
58
The Radcliffe Asylum
“Only two hours left, Alice,” the March said, walking back and forth. “Constance hasn’t found a way out, and we haven’t solved the puzzle.”
“The Puzzle is too hard to solve,” I say. “Wherever Patient 14 hid the Keys, I don’t think I can find out.”
“Somewhere in a … of light,” the March said. “What could it be? A pool of light? Beam of light? I don't know.”
“See my point? We’re not going to spend two hours solving such a vague puzzle.”
“Remember when he said only he or she who’s supposed to solve the puzzle can do it? Maybe it’s none of us. We need to find the one who can interpret it.”
“Who, March? Tom Truckle? I doubt Patient 14 would tell him where the Keys are. The Mushroomers? That’d be a long shot.”
“Constance?” the March said.
“Unlikely, but I’ll satisfy your curiosity.” I call Constance on the walkie-talkie and ask her.
“Not me, Alice,” she replies. “I know nothing of this.”
“Then our lives are
really in your hands, Constance,” the March tells her.
“I hope so.”
“Did you find anything?” I say.
“There is this thin yellow light in the distance,” she says. “I’m not sure what it is.”
“Are you sure it’s light?” the March says.
“I’m not, but I’m on it. Will talk to you again soon,” Constance says and resumes her silence again.
The March approaches me cautiously and says, “I want to say something, but I don’t want you to be mad at me.”
“What is it?”
“I was wondering if we’re ever going to see the Pillar again?”
“Why? You miss him?”
“Call me childish, but he made me laugh.”
“It is childish, March. But you’re a child so I understand.”
“So he is gone forever, right?”
“Don’t count on that.” I spit on the floor. “I’ll find him wherever he is and kill him.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really!” I fire back at him. It’s the first time I’ve ever shouted at the March. My demeanor scares him enough to plaster his back and palms against the wall behind him. “What’s wrong with you? He killed my family. Didn’t you see him kill Jack, too?”
“Calm down, Alice. You’re scaring me.”
“Then stop asking about the Pillar,” I say and regret my anger. “Listen,” I calm down. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Anger is good, I think. It makes you do a few things right, things you wouldn't do otherwise.”
I smile at the sudden words of wisdom, and wonder which movie or game he’d heard them in.
“Which reminds me,” he says. “Would you want me to tell you about your real family’s names?”
The March’s offer is something I have been thinking about all the time since I knew about them. But other than my father being the dean of Oxford University, I don’t think I can take more information now. Learning about my biological family will get me emotional and weaken me. It’s a blunt way to deal with the situation, but I’m a student of Carter Pillar, who has the guts to shoot the Queen of England in cold blood.
