“Behold! The Grand Clock of All Time!” he said proudly, stepping onto a balcony overlooking the chamber.
TICKTOCK, boomed the room, which was itself the clock. Gears and cogs of all sizes covered the floor. In the center of it all, sparks of light surrounded a spinning white orb. Without knowing how she knew, Alice recognized it as the Chronosphere.
As she watched, several small mechanical men clambered among the wheels below. Dressed in similar overalls, with various tools hanging around their waists, they seemed interchangeable—except for one, whose spectacles twinkled as he looked up at them. That specific tinkerer tucked a clipboard under his arm, picked his way through the spare parts lying along a walkway, and hustled up the stairs to reach them.
Coming to a halt in front of Time, the man saluted crisply.
Time smiled at him. “Ah. And how is Time, Wilkins?”
“Would you like the long report or the short report, sir?” the foreman asked, glancing down at his clipboard.
“The short report, of course!” Time exclaimed.
“Time is, sir,” Wilkins said.
Time clapped his hands together. “Jolly good. Well done, Wilkins! Keep it up.”
If that was all there was to say, Alice didn’t see the point of asking the foreman to report in. Her gaze returned to the chamber below, where the Chronosphere crackled with energy.
Time noticed Alice looking but misinterpreted the direction of her gaze. He waved at the other men. “Oh, and these fine chaps with Wilkins here are my Seconds.”
As one, the mechanical men jerked toward Time and started bobbing their heads, calling, “Tick, tick, tick, tick.” It was rather like listening to an orchestra of cymbals, all clanging together.
Smiling, Time basked in the sound before turning to Alice. “Every Second counts. Never forget that,” he said.
Alice nodded, but Time was already moving toward the door. Lingering behind for a moment, she gazed over the Grand Clock, silently studying the Chronosphere. She had found it. Now Alice just had to persuade Time to let her borrow it for a while.
Weaving through a maze of corridors and stairways, she followed Time to a comfortable sitting room. It was the smallest space she’d seen yet in the castle, and the cheery flames in the fireplace and cushion-covered chairs made it also the most welcoming.
Time plopped down into the tallest armchair. “Now,” he said. “Ask your question. You have one minute exactly.”
Alice dove in. “It’s about the Hatter, Tarrant Hightopp. You see, the Jabberwocky killed—”
Time’s eyes began to glaze over. He opened his vest and wound the second hand of his heart clock forward. As he did so, Alice almost tripped over her words as they poured out of her.
“—hisfamily ontheHorunvendushDay. And I’dlikeyourpermission ifyouplease toborrowthe Chronosphere—”
Alice fell silent as Time tensed and held up a commanding hand.
“How do you know about the Chronosphere?” Time asked. His face grave, he leaned in toward her.
“That wasn’t a minute!” Alice protested.
“What do you know of the Chronosphere?” Time’s voice rose and his eyebrows drew together menacingly.
“I’d like to borrow it,” Alice said. She clasped her fingers together in front of her to keep her hands still…and to remind herself to stay polite.
“Borrow it? Borrow it?!” He leapt to his feet with a cry of outrage, and his moustache bristled, as though it, too, were offended. “The Chronosphere powers Time oneself! It is not something to be ‘borrowed,’ like a croquet mallet or a pair of hedge clippers!”
“But—” Alice began.
Time whirled and stalked to the door. He jerked it open and pointed imperiously to the hall.
“You are asking me to violate the logic of the Universe,” he hissed. “The answer is no.”
“But—” Alice tried again.
“You are not amusing,” Time said. “Good day.”
It was as useless as arguing with the bullheaded Hamish, yet Alice persisted. “But I need the Chronosphere, sir! I need to save my friend!” Couldn’t he see how important this was?
“Wilkins!” Time bellowed. The foreman hurried up. “Escort this trespasser out, if you’d be so kind.”
Alice pressed her lips together to hold back what she wanted to say. Instead, she bowed politely and said, “Yes, sir. Sorry to bother you.”
As she passed in front of him, Time addressed her once more. “Young lady.” She paused to look at him. “You cannot change the past,” he said in a gentler tone. “It always was. It always will be. Although, I daresay, you might learn something from it.”
“Thank you for your time, sir,” Alice said simply. Ducking her head, she turned to follow Wilkins before Time could see the spark of defiance in her eyes.
WILKINS CLANKED along the hallway in front of Alice, leading her through the maze of passageways. Alice stewed behind him, her mind churning. She was not ready to give up on her mission yet.
A shrill voice sang out from somewhere ahead, breaking into Alice’s thoughts. “Oh, tick-tock!”
Grinding to an abrupt halt, Wilkins turned to Alice, his face ashen and his eyes blinking rapidly. “Miss, would you mind seeing yourself out?” he asked, a quaver in his voice.
Before Alice had even finished nodding, the little foreman had disappeared into a side corridor. That was her chance! Alice spun and raced back into the castle, then hid behind a pillar when she heard footsteps approaching. They stopped just yards from her.
Peering around the edge of the column, she spotted Time fidgeting in front of a mirror. He was nervously patting his hair, trying to smooth it down. Then he cupped his hand in front of his mouth and exhaled into it, sniffing to check his breath. As he flicked imaginary dust off his cloak, a mournful note sounded through the castle, echoing off the walls.
Time rolled his eyes. “Ugh! Will this day never end?” He huffed in annoyance and turned on his heel.
Alice slipped quietly after him as he stalked into a room labeled UNDERLANDIANS LIVING.
The bright chamber was unlike anything Alice had ever seen. Countless pocket watches hung from chains, their combined ticking filling the space like the buzzing of bees.
Walking among them, Time turned his face upward. “Who’s stopped?” he asked. “Who has ticked their last tock? Tocked their last tick?”
He closed his eyes, his head cocked at an angle, as he listened carefully to the millions of pocket watches in his care.
“Ah,” he said, opening his eyes. “Brilliam Hinkle!”
Time held out his hand and a chain dropped from above, depositing a watch into his palm.
“Yes, Brilliam Hinkle,” Time confirmed as he glanced at the name engraved on the stopped watch. “Time’s up.” He snapped the watch closed without ceremony.
With a sympathetic frown, Alice imagined a man miles away, his heart abruptly giving out. How could Time be so cavalier about it? Had he been as heartless when he claimed the Hightopps? Her eyes narrowed as anger simmered inside her.
Oblivious to her glare, Time passed into a room labeled UNDERLANDIANS DECEASED. Cautiously, Alice poked her head around the door, wondering what she’d find. Unlike the last room, this one was deadly quiet. The sudden silence was almost as loud as a shout.
Time moved along an orderly row of pocket watches, reading out names from their backs as he went. “Higgens, Highbottom”—Time paused as he came to a gap in the watches, then shrugged and continued on—“Highview, Himmelby…ah, Hinkle.”
With more gentleness than Alice had seen in him before, Time carefully hung the stopped watch in his hand on an empty chain in the row. He ran his fingers around its face and said softly, “I hope you used your time well. Good night.”
Alice thawed slightly. Maybe he wasn’t as cruel as she’d thought. Then the clicking of heels in the stone hall behind her made Alice spin in alarm. Shrinking back behind a column, she glanced at the floor, where a shadow loomed, c
oming ever closer. It was an odd shadow, though. She cocked her head as she studied it, trying to pin down what was wrong with it.
A bolt of fear shot through her as she realized the head was abnormally large. Only the Red Queen had a dome that misshapen! What was she doing there? Surely that wasn’t who Time had been primping for, was it? Wasn’t Iracebeth living in exile with her lackey, Stayne?
Once the footsteps had passed, Alice peeked around the pillar, her eyes widening in surprise at what she saw. Iracebeth’s oversized head had, if anything, grown since Alice had last seen her. The Red Queen paraded down the hall as if she owned the place, Wilkins and a group of Seconds scuttling to keep up with her.
Turning a corner, the group left Alice alone once again. She frowned, her mind spinning. Where the Red Queen went, trouble was sure to follow. Alice raced for the Chamber of the Grand Clock. If she was going to steal time, it was now or never.
Time hurried into his sitting room and rifled through a drawer. He lifted out a bottle of cologne—the one his darling preferred—and splashed some on. The cloying scent clogged up his nose and he coughed as he recapped the bottle and tucked it away.
An insistent knock sounded at the door and Time jolted upright. She was there!
“Coming, my love!” Time called, rushing to let his visitor in.
The Red Queen sauntered into the room, lifting one hand toward Time without even glancing at him. With a deep bow, he planted a servile kiss on her delicate skin.
“Oh, my radiant and beautiful dial-face, bulbous of head and soft of heart,” he said lovingly. “You are my only beacon!”
Iracebeth smiled at him indulgently; it was so nice to be adored. Thanks to her horrible sister, she no longer had a court full of nobles to compliment her. But Time helped soothe that wound. As she watched, he shuffled across the room to pick up a small music box and carried it back to her.
“Here,” he said as he held it out gingerly. “A gift—nay, a tribute!”
Iracebeth’s face lit up and her fingers twitched in excitement as she reached for it. “How sweet! Dear old tick-tock,” she said. Who didn’t love a good present?
As she turned the crank, a soft melody emerged, but the music box held—instead of a dancing ballerina or a kissing couple—a grim scene. Crouching with his head upon a block, a small mechanical king looked up at her as an executioner loomed over him. The executioner’s ax swung down, neatly severing the king’s head, which plopped into a basket in front of the block. When the song came to an end, the ax and head both inched back to their starting places.
Time gazed at Iracebeth anxiously. “I know how you love tiny things,” he said, a hopeful note in his voice.
Clutching the music box to her chest, Iracebeth exclaimed, “I’ll treasure it forever!” But only a second later, she tossed it to the side. Time winced as it thunked against the floor.
With a melodramatic sigh, the Red Queen twirled away, rolling her eyes skyward.
“Something troubling you, my dear?” Time asked.
Iracebeth cast him an appraising look, then sidled up to him, leaning in close to run her finger along his arm. “You know what I desire,” she whispered. “With my big brain and your little Chronosphere, we could together rule the past, the present, and the future!”
At her words, Time’s shoulders drooped. “But my dear, dear Iracebeth,” he said. “I’ve told you time and again that’s out of the question. You ask the impossible! You cannot change the past.”
Iracebeth pulled away in disgust, the porcelain skin of her face turning a vibrant red. She would get her hands on that Chronosphere, no matter what it took. Then nobody—not her sister or any of Mirana’s cronies—could stand in her way. She could finally right all the wrongs of the past and make sure the future went the way she wanted.
All of time would belong to her.
Alice found the Chamber of the Grand Clock abandoned, Wilkins and the Seconds most likely tending to another part of the castle…or to a demanding Red Queen. From the balcony, she gazed down at the clock, plotting her course. Cogs of all sizes spun in layers, clicking other pieces into place, turning wheels, winding belts, and swinging pendulums. At the center of it all, the silver light pulsed.
“The Chronosphere,” Alice whispered, equal parts awe and determination in her voice.
She set off down the stairs and picked her way along a beam to her first challenge: a series of moving pendulums. She paused, and her eyes followed the closest one back and forth, back and forth as she judged the distance.
With a tremendous leap, she grasped hold of the pendulum. Wrapping her arms around the slippery metal, she let it carry her toward the next, then pushed off with her feet and spun in midair to catch the second pendulum. After a few more, she stopped to catch her breath.
The Chronosphere twinkled ahead, closer but still so far away. The sphere was spinning so fast its metal bands were a blur.
Creak. The door to the chamber opened and Time’s Seconds filed into the room.
Alice froze, hoping they hadn’t spotted her.
The Seconds whistled shrilly in alarm.
No such luck. In a clearly practiced maneuver, they clumped together, piling on top of one another in groups of sixty to form larger, more menacing figures.
“Seconds into Minutes,” Alice observed before stepping off the last pendulum to the edge of a spinning wheel. There was no time to waste: with every passing second, the Minutes were adding up. And the Minutes moved smoothly through the clock, scaling the gears in acrobatic leaps.
Alice grabbed hold of a chain and rode it to a higher plane in the clockwork. That next level was a series of cogs, spinning in alternating directions. Beyond them, she could see the glowing sphere she needed, its light much brighter from there.
As the Minutes caught up to her, Alice hopped onto a cog and ran against its rotation until she could jump to the next.
The Minutes were right behind her. A few hasty Minutes got ahead of themselves, the spinning cogs flinging them into the air. Alice stayed focused on her task, looking ahead at an enormous revolving tube that led to the Chronosphere. There were always more Minutes in the day to catch her.
She gathered her muscles and launched herself into the tube.
Whump! Alice’s feet slid out from under her. Like an out-of-control carousel, the tube whirled her around and around. As she tumbled upside down and then right side up again, she could see the Minutes converging on her—some from behind, some from ahead.
Trying to gain some traction, Alice spread her arms and legs wide, then somersaulted ahead of the tube’s rotation and landed on her feet. She began running right away, keeping pace with the tube.
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Minutes landed on the outer edge of the tube above her.
Alice picked up speed, but the Minutes ran just as fast as she did, only in the opposite direction. They were at an impasse. She could not get away; nor could they get any closer.
“This is absurd,” Alice muttered. She dug her feet in and stopped. Her abrupt shift in momentum threw the tube off. The Minutes flew into the air, shrieking in surprise.
Wiping her hands together, Alice calmly stepped out of the tube. She was close to her goal: she could see the Chronosphere glimmering ahead. But her heart sank as she saw the final obstacle.
Wham! A massive hammer slammed down in front of her, followed by several more. Somehow, she’d have to get through the pounding maze in one piece if she wanted to save her friend.
THE RED QUEEN’s temper was reaching a boiling point. What use was there in courting Time if he wouldn’t bend the rules for her? Time was immensely powerful. That was why she’d started dating him in the first place. The only reason, really, she thought as she surveyed his elongated nose and bushy facial hair.
Now desperate, Time flung open the doors to a cabinet in his sitting room. It held his favorite treasures—things he had accumulated over the millennia. Everything from magic beans to dodo birds cluttered the shelves.
Iracebeth huffed indignantly. She’d seen Time’s little treasures before and they meant nothing to her.
“But I cannot give you the Chronosphere!” Time exclaimed.
“You would if you loved me,” Iracebeth said sulkily.
“But I do love y—” Time’s voice cut off abruptly as a shiver ran through his body. Looking down at his chest, his eyes filled with horror.
“The Grand Clock,” he said. Without sparing a glance for Iracebeth, he raced from the room.
The Red Queen’s eyebrows shot upward in surprise. Nobody ran out on her, not even Time. She clicked her tongue testily and hurried after him.
As Alice wavered at the edge of the giant hammers, one of the Minutes caught up to her and leapt ahead to guard the Chronosphere. But apparently even units of time could be off, and this one mistimed his jump. The round end of a hammer crashed down, splintering the Minute into Seconds, who sprinkled down between the clock’s gears.
Alice shuddered. It was true: time would spare no man. Taking a deep breath, she danced forward, relying on her quick reflexes and memory of the hammers’ pattern.
One step, wait, two, three, four, leap, leap, pause, seven, eight, jump!
Crack! She could hear the hammers smashing more Minutes into tiny fragments behind her. Alice pivoted through the final hammers and grabbed a piece of metal framework to steady herself.
Squeezed into a small gap between the hammers and the circular frame cradling the Chronosphere, Alice swiftly patted herself over to make sure she was still in one piece. She let out a little sigh of relief, then faced the glowing orb.
Just then, Time rushed into the chamber, Iracebeth trailing him. Taking in the scene, he cried out in alarm and ran toward the Grand Clock.
Alice stretched up toward the shining Chronosphere. As her fingers drew near, it sparked and crackled fiercely. Biting her lip, she plunged her hand forward and clutched the Chronosphere. The small metal orb stopped spinning but continued to glow, its heat nearly burning her hand.
Alice in Wonderland- Through the Looking Glass Page 5
