by R. L. Weeks
She nodded. ‘I agree. Make it for eleven.’
Lord Dain swooped into another bow and left. He would have his spies investigate Lord Gerard and present the findings tomorrow to the queen. This was his chance to get rid of the rabbit man forever.
♥♥♥
The hatter laid on the grass outside and looked at the town square. ‘Why are we here, Alice? I mean why are we even alive? What’s the point in this?’ He gestured at the sky quizzically. ‘Everyone seems to have it figured it out but me. I’m alone in this madness.’
Alice laughed. ‘Oh hatter, don’t you realise that nobody has it figured out. I see it every day. It doesn’t matter what world we’re in; nobody knows for certain why we’re here, and we spend our lives trying to figure it out. We are all alone, together.’
He sighed. ‘So there is no point?’
She frowned. ‘We are here, and that is the only thing that is certain. I think the point is invalid. If it were valid, we would know what it was. We are here, quite simply, to live and to live is what we should do.’ She leant in with a hint of a smile. ‘Life can be beautiful. You just have to look in the other direction.’ She moved his cheek, and he looked back. Three children were playing in the square, running after each other and playing tag.
The hatter frowned. ‘It’s late; it’s dangerous for them to be out. Someone will hurt them.’
‘If you wish to apply darkness to every light, then your world will always be dim, hatter.’
Wendy scurried over to them. ‘News, I have news,’ she said breathlessly. ‘The Rebels plan to make their move in three days. Apparently, Red’—she looked at Alice—‘the white queen’s first lady,’ she informed, ‘persuaded the queen to send an army over the water. They have managed to persuade enough of the mermen in the ocean to their side that they should be able to sail without many casualties.’
A smile spread across the hatter’s face. ‘You and I will meet with the Rebel leaders tonight.’
Wendy nodded enthusiastically. ‘Yes, we shall.’
Alice frowned. ‘Be careful; the place is covered with spies.’
‘We know,’ they replied.
She leaned down on the grass and looked at her sister. ‘Please, Wendy, be careful.’ She looked at the hatter, who was dancing on the grass, and looked back at Wendy, lowering her voice. ‘I hope that we will leave soon. Robin is going to steal the sword and kill the queen. If we can avoid a fight, then even better.’
Wendy pouted. ‘I will not leave my friends! I will stay and fight.’
Alice sighed. ‘I don’t want you to get hurt.’
‘I am not a child anymore, Alice. I’m a grown woman—well, mouse for now—but regardless, I know what I’m doing, so back off a little.’
Wendy walked over to the hatter and walked with him into the square.
Alice turned and walked back over to the house, feeling guilty. Did she baby Wendy too much? Should they stay and fight? Their friends were here. Alice walked through the door and sat in the armchair in front of the crackling fire. Stilt crawled over to her. ‘Troubled?’
Alice kicked her feet onto the table. ‘Wendy and Croon have gone to meet the rebel leaders. The fight will commence in three days.’
Stilt puffed out a circle of smoke. ‘And you are not happy about this?’
‘The queen’s spies are everywhere. If they are caught, they will be killed. I lost Wendy once; I can’t lose her again.’
‘She is old enough to make her own choices,’ he pointed out.
‘Guess so.’
The queen walked into the long, light room as the members of her council stood. She sat at the head of the table and gestured for her council to sit.
Lord Dain cleared his throat, holding several pieces of parchment in his aging hands. ‘Majesty, I would like to present the matter of Croon Gonore. He will be arrested and placed into Wonderland’s insane asylum as Her Majesty requested. His estate will be stripped of his possessions and auctioned.’
The queen nodded. ‘Very good. What of Alice? Have you found her?’
‘No, Majesty. Unfortunately, she has shown talent at staying hidden.’
The queen stood up and tucked a piece of her hair that had gotten loose behind her ear. ‘See to it that she is found. Put out a ransom for her, dead or alive, and see to it that any who aid her will be guilty of treason.’
‘Majesty,’ Lord Dain said and bowed his head. ‘Another matter I would like to bring to your attention is that of Lord Gerard.’'
Snow took a deep breath. ‘I have noticed his absence today.’
Three lords stood up, all matching in their emerald green waistcoats and protruding waistlines. ‘We believe him to be guilty of treason,’ Lord Dain said, and the three lords nodded in agreement. ‘We believe he has been secretly meeting with rebel leaders. Also, Wendy too.’
Snow pursed her lips. ‘Bring them in for questioning.’
Lord Dain bowed his head. ‘We already have Gerard; we have him in the tower …’
‘Without my permission?’ she screeched. ‘I suggest that you remember your station in the future, Lord Dain. No one has the right to arrest a member of my court or council for treason without my permission.’
‘Of course,’ he replied and tugged at his collar. ‘I apologise greatly, Your Majesty.’
‘This concludes today’s session. I appoint Lord Dain as Keeper of the Ruby while Gerard is under arrest. Lord Dain,’ she said, turning to face him, ‘I request you take a walk with me in the gardens.’
‘I’d be delighted to accompany Her Majesty on her afternoon walk.’
She nodded and left the room, followed by Lord Dain who hurried after her like a lost puppy.
♥♥♥
Croon walked down the sterile white corridors, panicked. How was he back? How could he be back? His shoes squeaked on the floor, and the lights flickered as he desperately tried to find an escape, any escape—even death—but they would never let him do it. The creaking from his mother swinging from the rafters scraped through him; why, Mama?
‘Hatter?’ a voice called, carried by the screams from the people kept prisoner behind heavy metal doors in the other rooms. ‘Hatterrrrr.’
Croon covered his ears, pressing his palms into his temples until his eyes felt as if they would shoot out of his sockets. ‘Stop!’ he shouted. It was too late. The pattering of footsteps filled the corridor, all coming for him.
He turned a corner and darted down another, but he found no end to the corridors, all led into another. He banged his fists on a door with a spark of hope that they could help him … Surely, someone could help him?
‘Hatter!’ The voice was sterner and was followed by a pinch on his arm. He jolted up in his bed and looked around frantically, sweat dripping down his pale face.
‘Alice …’ he breathed.
Alice furrowed her brows and tilted her head ever so slightly. ‘You wouldn’t answer. I called through your door twice … Are you okay?’
Croon looked out the window. The sun had risen, and the sun’s rays covered everything in a golden glow—the fields, the hills, and red brick buildings. Blossom petals coated the rich green grass, and the sky was bluer than the hatter’s eyes. ‘I’m okay, Alice.’
Alice frowned. He was not his usual happy, kooky self; he looked and sounded, well, normal. ‘You look very uh …’ Alice bit her lip. ‘Serious. I just want to make sure you’re okay.’
‘Enough!’ Croon turned, his expression darker, and slammed his fist down on his dresser, making a half-sewn hat fall onto the blue carpet. ‘Are you okay? Are you okay? Are you okay? It’s all I hear!’ he growled. ‘It’s all I ever hear!’
Alice backed against the wall. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Croon—beautiful Croon with eccentric taste, handsome bone structure, laugh lines, and piercing blue eyes, yet sadness etched his face, and his spirit was broken. ‘I’m going to leave. I know your fight is not with me.’ She leaned down to Croon who had slunk to the floor, bury
ing his head in his arms. He reached out and stroked his slick brown hair. ‘I hope that one day you defeat the demons that haunt you.’
He looked up, his gaze tracing over her. ‘You understand?’
She nodded. ‘My demon is failure; it haunts me every day.’
A smile played on his lips but vanished as if someone had blown out the candle that was the hatter. Alice walked over to the door and opened it, sighing deeply. Poor, poor hatter. ‘Oh, my!’ Alice fell backward. As she opened the door, she was faced with a group of soldiers, all dressed with their symbols as if they had been plucked from a pack of playing cards.
They said nothing and marched past her, the group separating and going into different rooms. Alice heard the hatter scream. ‘Croon!’ Alice ran into the bedroom, reaching the door just as they dragged him out screaming. ‘Why are you taking him?’
The guards stopped. ‘He is under arrest. Are you his wife?’
Alice looked around. She hadn’t seen these particular guards at court and prayed none of them recognised her from the description that was put out. ‘Yes,’ she lied.
‘Here are the charges.’ They handed her a piece of paper. Alice opened it, breaking the wax seal, and her hand shot to her mouth. ‘Oh, my god.’
‘Alice?’ The hatter’s gaze locked onto hers as the guards dragged him out of the house. ‘What will happen to me?’
A tear strolled down her cheek. ‘Treason,’ she mouthed.
His head lowered, and he almost went limp as he was taken out of the front door. Alice slid down the wall as she read the letter; Croon would not be put to death as the queen of hearts believed him to be insane.
I must help him.
Alice ran out the door and over to the table. ‘Wendy?’ she called out.
‘No point,’ a familiar voice said from behind her. She turned and saw it was Chess, and for once, he was not grinning. ‘They have all been arrested. Wendy was captured by the queen and has been taken to Willow Woods for execution for crimes against the crown. The hatter has been taken to a tower, Wonderland’s asylum, and Gerard is in the tower, and you, my dear, have a warrant out for your arrest.’
All color drained from her face. ‘Wendy’s been taken to the woods?’
Chess nodded slowly. He sat on top of the fence and floated over to the table. ‘I’m afraid so. There was nothing I could do, Alice. Believe me.’
Alice crossed her arms. ‘I don’t believe that. You are selfish.’
His grin reappeared. ‘I am … but I do care for my friends, and Croon was always my friend. If I could have helped him, I would have.’
Alice turned. ‘I must go and save her.’
Chess floated over to her until he was in front of her face. ‘She is to be executed at three.’
The dongs from the town clock shook Alice. Slowly and with a tear to each dong, she counted. One … two … three ...
‘No!’ she gasped then passed out.
♥♥♥
The hatter woke up trying to recall the events of the last twenty-four hours. Saliva pooled in his mouth, and his back ached as it pressed against the metal bed. He tried to move his hands and legs, but he could not move any part of himself without feeling the restriction of the straps. His heart pounded so loudly that he was surprised the room was not pulsating with it at a million miles an hour. He tried to calm himself down, yes, calm … Think of fresh polyester and silk, the smell of a newly made dress, the satisfaction of propping a custom-made hat onto a customer’s head, so it fitted so perfectly, and seeing the glee on their face.
Screaming.
Sobbing.
Pain.
The sounds crept under his door and over to his restricted self, and the panic came back tenfold. ‘Help!’ he screamed. ‘Please! Help me! Help me!’ He cried out with desperation until his voice became hoarse and finally his screams were silent and his tears had soaked his brown hair. His nose filled and throat closed. He desperately tried to take a breath in and swallow, but he could not. He found himself choking, spluttering over his crossed arms and white straitjacket. He wanted to scream out, but no sounds left his mouth, and a tear crept down his already water patterned cheek and toward his trembling lips. The need for oxygen was great, and his legs kicked with more force than ever before to free himself but nothing happened.
Croon heard someone walk past the door, and he desperately hoped they would come in, turn they key, and realise that his silence was not a symptom of insanity, but instead, see his grey face and blue lips and realise he was on the brink of death.
Then came the peace. No one came, and Croon’s life flashed in his mind as his eyes begrudgingly closed.
A second later, he awoke to what he thought to be an eternal peace to find that he was in the same room, and that he was no longer choking. He was alive, of course, as no one could die in Wonderland, but the hatter had hoped that would be untrue.
Like his mother, he had given up. She was branded as insane and then killed herself. He thought back to his life before Neverland and Wonderland, and the memories slowly slid into his mind. Memories he had pushed away and blocked for so long, but time spent in the straitjacket alone, staring at a grey ceiling, made him venture into his damaged mind.
His bright blue eyes filled with tears. He closed his eyes and drifted back to Earth, his home. He remembered her—not that he could ever say her name again for fear of the pain her name would bring to him, but she was beautiful and odd and perfectly imperfect. She was bullied for being overweight and awkward. They had gone to school together, and she always ate lunch alone.
He was at the top of his class with wealthy parents and a wide circle of friends yet found something alluring about her. He was fifteen, as she was, and he sat next to her during one lunch. ‘Hi.’
She looked at him and flushed red. ‘If you have come here to play a prank on me, then please leave.’
He frowned. ‘I’m not.’ He looked down at her trembling hands wrapped around a china teacup. ‘You like tea?’
She lifted a blond eyebrow. ‘You don’t?’
‘Never tried it.’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘Someone with your background surely would have tried tea.’
He shook his head. ‘May I?’
She handed him the cup and looked around as a group of boys sat atop a table near them all laughed. He ignored them and took a sip. ‘Why, it’s lovely.’
‘Told you.’
He pressed his lips together. ‘Why do you always sit alone?’
She glanced around; her eyes were as blue as his were, but they sparkled unlike anyone else he had met. ‘They think me odd and ugly.’
He laughed, and she pouted.
‘You think it funny?’
‘No,’ he said, still laughing. ‘I laugh because it’s preposterous. You’re not ugly at all.’
Her round cheeks tinted pink. ‘Oh. No one has ever said that to me before.’
‘That you’re not ugly?’ His expression dropped. ‘That’s sad.’
She shrugged. ‘I’m used to it.’ She looked around, and everyone’s eyes were on them. ‘You should get back to your friends before they think you weird for talking to me.’
He got up and hesitated but walked away.
Over the next few weeks, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She danced by the river in their village without fear of what anyone thought and drank tea in school and doodled the most abstract art he had ever seen. Not to mention her dress sense. She wore bright colors, all contrasting, yet she stuck out among the dreary grey that he had become accustomed to. One evening, he spotted her by the river. She was in a pink dress, her wavy blond hair danced on her back as she twirled in her bare feet on the grassy bank. The trickling of the river was her song and moonlight her spotlight. He crept up behind her and poked her side.
She jumped and turned. ‘Gosh! You scared me.’
He smiled. ‘Sorry.’ He looked around at the darkness. ‘Why are you not at home?’
She sat
down and buried her feet in the long grass. ‘My home is horrible,’ she admitted.
‘It is run-down?’
She shook her head. ‘No, my uncle …’
‘Yes,’ he said quickly. ‘I have heard of him. He’s wealthy. Is that why you go to school when so many girls do not?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, but …’ She paused and looked out at the horizon, lost in thought. ‘Never mind.’
Croon placed his hand on her shoulder. ‘But what? You can tell me. I won’t tell anyone else.’
She bit her lip. ‘I don’t know, Croon. I don’t know you well.’
He ran his finger up her neck and onto her cheek. ‘You could if you wanted to.’
She shuddered. ‘If you plan to rape me …’
His eyes widened. ‘No! Of course, not! I meant if you would let me, I would love to become your friend.’
‘Oh.’ She blushed. ‘Of course, I’m so sorry.’
He pressed his lips together. ‘What bothers you so much?’
She looked at him, her eyes sparkled with tears. ‘He forces himself onto me nightly. He tells me it’s his right. After my parents had died, he took me in, and he said this is repayment and that he is good to me, and I should appreciate that this is all he wants for I am not a girl of desire.’
Croon’s fists tightened. ‘He is a coward, a disgusting pig. A …’ He looked at her, and his expression darkened. ‘A rapist. He deserves death.’
‘They would not hang him, even if anyone did believe me. He is so wealthy and—’
‘Then I will confront him tonight. Come on.’
‘No,’ she begged, pulling at his arm. ‘Do not. He will strike you.’
Croon scoffed. ‘He could try.’
He walked off into the night toward the old house where he knew her uncle lived in. It did look pretty run-down, but as he walked up the long driveway, he realised it was grander than he had ever thought. The weathered stone steps led up to a set of mahogany double doors with a large knocker shaped like a lion.
She hid behind Croon as her uncle opened the door. He growled, making his many chins shake, and looked down at the pair with beady brown eyes. ‘I told you no friends back.’
