Alice in Wonderland- Through the Looking Glass

by Kari Sutherland

  “Time! He’s slowing down!” Alice exclaimed. “He’s going to stop! I saw it. It’s why he wanted the Chronosphere.”

  “Hang on,” Hatter said. “If Time ends, we all end. He told me so himself.”

  Guilt swamped Alice. Because of her, the world might end. “This is my fault! I stole the Chronosphere. I should’ve been more careful with Time. I should have listened to him.”

  Hatter set his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to meet his eyes. Alice felt his confidence in her filling her with strength.

  “We’ve got to stop the big head!” Hatter said fiercely.

  “And get back the Chronosphere,” Alice added.

  The Bandersnatch smacked his lips loudly as though in agreement.

  After surveying the discarded pieces of Time’s vehicle lying on the floor, Alice turned to Hatter’s family. “Hightopps!” she called. “Gather the pieces of his time machine. We may have need of it yet.”

  THE RED QUEEN’s castle was eerily silent as Alice and Hatter crept down the stairs and into the main hall. Not even the leaves on the walls rustled.

  “Where is everyone?” Alice whispered.

  “Look!” Hatter pointed through a doorway to the garden, where what looked like an impromptu courtroom had been set up.

  In the center of the grass, Mirana stood tall and dignified, with a determined McTwisp at her side. Bordering the courtyard was a line of vegetable soldiers, including several who guarded the Tweedles, Thackery, Bayard, and Mallymkun. Before them all, on a raised platform, Iracebeth gleefully bounced on her toes in front of a throne of branches. Time was chained to a smaller, less decorated throne set next to Iracebeth’s. His face was haggard and he was clutching his heart. In her typical self-involved way, Iracebeth appeared oblivious to the fact that she was killing Time.

  “We’re too late,” Alice said, taking in Time’s condition.

  “He’s almost out of himself. We must hurry.” Hatter took her hand and squeezed it. They couldn’t give up yet.

  “Mirana of Marmoreal!” Iracebeth declared loudly, glaring down at her sister. “You are accused of treason. I hereby sentence you to—”

  “Wait!” McTwisp objected. “What about the verdict?”

  “Sentence first! Then verdict,” Iracebeth bellowed. Her gaze snapped back to Mirana. “You are banished to the Outlands,” Iracebeth continued. Her voice was now almost hushed, and it trembled slightly. “No one is to show you kindness or ever speak a word to you. You will not have a friend in the world.”

  Mirana faced her sister, her eyes wide.

  Taking a deep breath, Iracebeth lifted her chin defiantly. “You have lied. You have stolen. You are not the rightful queen of Underland,” she said.

  The White Rabbit bounded forward. “Objection! Where’s your proof?”

  “I don’t need proof,” Iracebeth spat. “I’ve got better. I shall have a confession!” She lifted the Chronosphere, its metal bands glinting brightly.

  Puzzled, Mirana drew her eyebrows together as Iracebeth descended toward her. The Red Queen threw the Chronosphere to the ground and it immediately expanded to its traveling-through-time size. As the bands spun and whirred, the lights along its edges glowed white. A jolt ran through Alice as she realized Iracebeth’s plan.

  “Wait!” Alice burst from hiding. “Stop! Wait!”

  Everyone turned to stare at her as she rushed across the courtyard.

  “You cannot change the past, Your Majesty,” Alice cried. “Believe me, I have tried.”

  Narrowing her eyes, Iracebeth huffed angrily—of course Alice would try to protect Mirana. But Iracebeth would have justice! Before anyone could stop her, she latched on to her sister’s arm and tugged her past the whizzing bands into the heart of the Chronosphere.

  Both Alice and Hatter raced forward, but it was too late. Iracebeth expertly steered the Chronosphere into the sky. Alice stared upward, watching the golden ball wink against the clouds before it disappeared completely.

  Frantic, Alice spun to face the crowd. “We’ve got to stop her!” she cried.

  Unfortunately, it was the vegetable soldiers who lurched into motion. They lowered their spears and advanced on Alice and Hatter.

  With a tremendous roar, the Bandersnatch leapt into the courtyard, the Hightopps on his back. The soldiers scattered left and right, terrified to their roots by the snarling beast, who growled happily as they fled.

  Clambering up on the stage, Alice and Hatter rushed to Time. The rust had spread across his body and he was slumped to the side.

  “You’ve got to take us back,” Alice told Time as she and Hatter untied him. “She’s going to change the past!”

  Time gazed blankly at Alice and then at the grass, where Zanik and the rest of the Hightopps were laying out the pieces of the Tempus Fugit. His eyes clouded over, his face weary.

  “I let my heart distract me from the schedule.” His voice was filled with remorse. “I’m a disgrace to the profession, the concept, myself.”

  His chin dropped to his chest and he let out a deep sigh.

  “C’mon, old chap,” Hatter said. “Don’t give yourself a hard time.”

  But Time just shook his head slowly. “I’m too weak,” he wheezed.

  “No, you’re not.” Alice poked his shoulder. “You’re Time. The Infinite…”

  “The Immortal!” Hatter cried.

  “I’m beginning to wonder about that last part,” Time muttered.

  “And besides,” Hatter continued, ignoring him, “you’re the only person who can rebuild that thing.” He pointed to the array of cogs, chains, wooden levers, and beams that were spread out like a jigsaw puzzle before them.

  As Time’s eyes finally focused on the pieces, a spark lit deep within him. It was his nature to march onward! After casting a quick smile at Hatter and Alice, he shuffled toward the parts. It was about time he got to work.

  Just a few ticks later—longer, admittedly, than it had taken the first time—the Tempus Fugit was ready. Time gave it one final inspection, then nodded to Alice and Hatter.

  The three of them climbed aboard and began pumping the levers to launch it skyward. Everyone else gathered to wish them good luck, waving as the Tempus Fugit vanished.

  Pulling at the machine’s levers with all her might, Alice glanced overboard. The Ocean of Time flickered below, various moments bubbling to the surface.

  There was a stunned Hatter beside the trunk of a tree, carefully lifting the rumpled blue paper hat and staring at it, dumbstruck.

  Next Alice herself appeared, battling the Jabberwocky during her last trip to Underland. On the Tempus Fugit, Alice felt a weird combination of nausea and pride, remembering that day.

  A tea party swam into view, but it wasn’t one Alice had attended. Time sat impatiently at the table as Hatter cavorted around him. Warmth filled Alice’s chest as she realized the Hatter below was delaying Time for her! And that was no easy task. Some might say impossible, but those someones didn’t know Hatter or Alice.

  Time also gazed below, but he saw something troubling. Every day was tinged with a smattering of reddish brown. Noticing his somber expression, Alice took a second look and her confidence sank.

  The rust was spreading. They didn’t have much time.

  H ATTER LEANED forward like the prow of a ship as they cut their way deeper into the past. His eagle eyes spotted a flicker of movement ahead.

  “There they are! Hurry!” he cried.

  Alice, Hatter, and Time flung themselves at the pumps and levers, eking out more speed from the Tempus Fugit.

  As the Chronosphere’s golden light bobbed closer, they could see the royal sisters within its spinning rings. Mirana’s face was pale and drawn, and she eyed Iracebeth warily. Ignoring her sister, Iracebeth had her eyes locked on the ocean. Her tongue peeked out from one side of her mouth, like that of a cat that’s cornered a mouse.

  Then Iracebeth yanked on a lever and the Chronosphere dove toward a specific day in the past. She stee
red the Chronosphere through a chilly gray sky. The town of Witzend appeared below, windows glowing as people lit lanterns and fires indoors.

  The Chronosphere squeezed through an opening in Witzend Castle and rolled to a stop in an abandoned corridor. New spiderwebs of rust traced down the stone walls and along the floor, but Iracebeth, intent on her goal, didn’t notice. Her fingers clutched her sister’s arm, and she pulled her from the Chronosphere, which began to shrink into a tiny ball.

  “Where are we?” Mirana asked.

  “You know where we are,” Iracebeth answered darkly.

  As Mirana looked around, she realized she did know: they were just outside their childhood bedroom. And she had a pretty good guess as to when they were. Her forehead creased and she hung back as Iracebeth cracked open the door.

  Queen Elsmere’s voice rang out from the room. “Why are these crusts under your bed?” Mirana’s shoulders stiffened.

  “She put them there!” Iracebeth’s young voice cried out.

  “Did you, Mirana?” Elsmere asked.

  In the hallway, the older Iracebeth rounded on her sister. “Did you, Mirana?” she whispered accusingly.

  From within the room, they could hear the younger Iracebeth becoming insistent. “You did! Tell her!”

  “Tell the truth, Mirana,” Queen Elsmere commanded sternly. “Did you eat the tarts and put the crusts there?”

  The sisters both tensed; they knew what came next. Iracebeth’s face flushed with anger, and Mirana’s eyes were full of regret.

  Bang! Alice, Hatter, and Time crashed into the corridor. Startled, the queens jumped, but Iracebeth quickly tugged her sister toward their bedroom door. She didn’t want Mirana to squirm away; this was what she had brought her there to see. This was the moment that proved it was all Mirana’s fault. At last, Mirana would have to tell their mother the truth and the past would be righted.

  “No,” Mirana’s younger self whispered.

  Gong! The clock tower in Witzend sang out, its toll carrying far through the wintry air. Scooping up the Chronosphere from the stone hallway, Alice hurried toward the queens, with Time and Hatter at her side.

  Years of betrayal, loneliness, and anger roared up in Iracebeth as she heard her sister deny the crime again, and she reached for the door, ready to fling it open.

  “Iracebeth, wait!” Mirana cried, grabbing her sister’s arm. “I…I lied.”

  Iracebeth blinked, taken aback.

  “I ate the tarts,” Mirana continued. “And I lied about it.” Tears welled in her deep brown eyes. “If I had just told the truth, none of this would have ever happened. I’m so sorry.”

  Alice and the others came to a halt a few feet away, caught up in the intensity of the moment.

  “Forgive me. Please. If you can,” Mirana finished.

  Looking into Mirana’s face, Iracebeth remembered when they used to be the best of friends.

  They would giggle together as they played hopscotch. At the beach, they had made the most amazing pink sand castle together. It had four tall crooked towers circling the main one. Hand in hand, Mirana and Iracebeth had combed the beach to find the prettiest shells to decorate it. Iracebeth hadn’t wanted to go back home that day. The sun had been bright in the sky, and the breeze from the ocean had been just enough to keep them cool on the sand. There had even been happy music emanating from a nearby lobster quadrille.

  Sometimes at night, the girls had curled up together to read. There had been an incredibly comfy window bench, and they had spent hours there, caught up in a story about a lion or a unicorn. Iracebeth had waited patiently for Mirana—the slower reader—to reach the end of the page before she turned to the next. Iracebeth’s hair, always more stubborn than Mirana’s, would fall into her eyes and Mirana would gently tuck it back behind her ears for her.

  Iracebeth felt a tear slide down her cheek at the memories.

  “That’s all I ever wanted to hear. Really it was,” she said, sniffing.

  Overcome with emotion, Mirana and Iracebeth collapsed into each other’s arms. For the first time in many years, Iracebeth felt warm from the inside out.

  Creak. The bedroom door opened fully. The younger Iracebeth ran out, and she crashed into Mirana’s and Iracebeth’s skirts and stumbled backward.

  “Oh, bother,” Iracebeth the older said.

  The child version of her looked directly into her older self’s oversized face. She paused in shock. Then she screamed and screamed until—

  Poof!

  Both Iracebeths froze, an orangey-red powder crusting over their skin.

  “Iracebeth!” Mirana cried.

  Like a firework going off, rust exploded from the two Iracebeths, then crawled along the carpet and up Elsmere and the younger Mirana until they, too, were statues.

  But the rust didn’t stop there.

  It kept spreading, corroding everything around them.

  “Oh, this can’t be good,” Hatter mumbled.

  “She has broken the past! We’ve got to get to the Grand Clock before it stops forever,” Time cried.

  The Grand Clock was not faring well. Wilkins frowned as he and the Seconds pumped levers and greased cogs.

  “Come on, chaps! Keep it swinging,” Wilkins called, his voice desperate. He looked around in dismay.

  Rust was spreading throughout the Grand Clock, making the gears grind slower and throwing off the delicate balance of the clockwork.

  The Seconds began to slow down, tiring. Wilkins knew they were running out of themselves. Where could Time be?

  Time was hunched inside the Chronosphere, holding his side in pain as Alice and the rest of their group crowded in next to him. Shooting Time a worried look, Alice steered the Chronosphere out of Witzend Castle and up into the snowy sky. Below them, a circle of rust rippled out from the castle, carpeting the streets, painting the buildings red, and halting people and animals mid-breath.

  Gon—

  The chime of the church’s clock cut off abruptly as rust covered the tower.

  Even the snowflakes froze in midair, the white specks turning into muddy dots of red and brown.

  Hatter’s mouth tugged down at the sight.

  “I still don’t understand why we had to bring her with us,” he muttered to Alice. He glanced at the rust-frozen figure stretched out on the bottom of the Chronosphere, taking up most of the floor space. Mirana had tears running down her cheeks as she cradled Iracebeth’s head in her lap. But Hatter couldn’t summon much sympathy for the Red Queen.

  Alice patted his shoulder with her free hand. She knew how hard it could be to forgive. But she was discovering that everyone had a past. Nobody was all good or all bad. Iracebeth had had her share of pain; she just hadn’t known how to handle it.

  The Chronosphere popped out into the flowing light above the Ocean of Time, and Alice spun them toward the present.

  Yet a troubling new wave had formed in the ocean below them. Like a row of toy soldiers falling down, one after another, the days began to crackle, each one’s moments infiltrated by rust.

  “It’s catching up!” Hatter cried worriedly.

  Sparing a glance over her shoulder, Alice saw the rust sweeping toward them. She gritted her teeth and tugged on a chain, demanding more speed from the Chronosphere. Come on, come on, she urged silently.

  They rocketed forward, flashing by familiar days. But the rust was right behind them, invading the scenes of their past. Finally, they burst into the present above Iracebeth’s castle.

  The Hightopps and Alice’s friends stared up as the Chronosphere zoomed by.

  “That crazy boy might actually pull this off—” Zanik was saying when a wave of rust slammed into him, freezing him with his mouth open.

  The rust swept over the others, catching Bayard, McTwisp, Mallymkun, and Thackery. The Tweedles backed up as far as they could, huddling together, but the wave washed over them, as well.

  As Hatter saw his family and friends suspended mid-motion, their eyes wide with alarm, he win
ced.

  “Hurry, Alice, please,” Hatter urged.

  Alice threw her weight against a lever, and the Chronosphere banged inside Iracebeth’s castle. Ricocheting off a column of vines, it rolled along a corridor. Leaves and roots peeled off the walls as metallic fragments weighed them down, and the ceiling began to crumble in patches.

  Behind them, the doors to the castle burst open, and a liquid wave of rust poured into the chamber. It splashed against the wall and split into two waves that bore down on the Chronosphere while Alice maneuvered it up the root staircase.

  With a loud creak, a section of ceiling gave way and crashed into the space where the Chronosphere had just been. Time groaned as he gazed through the new gap: the sky had turned a gritty red and brown as rust cascaded down on the land.

  Doing her best to concentrate, Alice tugged on a lever, and the Chronosphere pivoted, spinning into a room off the stairwell. Ahead of them, Iracebeth’s black grandfather clock loomed.

  Two waves of rust flooded into the room, racing along the curved walls toward the clock. Eyeing the distance and the waves, Hatter didn’t think they would make it.

  “Well, I’ve really enjoyed our time together, Alice,” Hatter said. A wistful smile crossed his face.

  Alice ignored him. She, too, was making calculations. Without warning, she slammed on the brakes, sending the Chronosphere into a tight spin. As it whirled in place, the two waves crashed into each other in front of the clock. Then they both receded for a moment, the force of their impact reversing their directions.

  Seeing their chance, Alice threw off the brakes and thrust the Chronosphere forward, straight toward the clock.

  Boom! The clock exploded as the Chronosphere crashed through it and plummeted into the dark space beyond, rust pouring through the gap behind it.

  Alice spotted Time’s castle in the distance and coaxed more speed from the Chronosphere. Almost there, she thought. She aimed for a stained glass window, and with a crash, bang, boom, the Chronosphere smashed through it and bounced along the floor of the Grand Clock’s chamber.