by Cameron Jace
“Consider it just a reminder. I promise to find your son if you help me kill my sister.”
“When do you want me to do that?”
“Not now, of course. I still need her. Just be ready.” The Queen turned and faced Margaret. “And be honest with me.”
“But I’m always honest with you.”
“So the messenger is real?”
“I’m not going to repeat myself,” Margaret said. “I told you he is real.”
“Then who is doing this?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s a brilliant plan. I assume this is why we’re driving to the asylum. You think whoever planned this might be there?”
“Could be, but I actually have another reason.” The Queen flashed a broad grin, pulling out a playing card from her pocket. An Ace.
“I’m not sure I understand,” Margaret said.
“Jack Diamonds.”
“What about him?”
“I’ve invited him and his girlfriend, Lorina, to come along. He is in the limo behind us.”
“Okay?” Margaret cocked her head with anticipation. She wondered what devious plan the Queen of Hearts had in mind.
“I want you to talk him into something when we arrive,” the Queen said.
“Me? What do you want me to tell him?”
“I was thinking, if Alice dies in the asylum today, it’d make it a bit more cinematic, theatrical; something tense like the ending of Scarface.”
“That’s a pretty old movie,” Margaret said. “I’m not sure I remember it.”
“Think of it as a messed up version of Romeo and Juliet.”
“Now I’m really confused.” But Margaret wasn’t. She instantly caught the connection. The Queen was asking for the most brutal of endings. “You don’t really want me to ask Jack to…”
“Kill Alice? Yes.” The Queen grinned, clapped her hands, then her feet, tried to jump off the backseat but failed due to her weight. If she could somersault to celebrate her ingenious idea, she would have. “I want Alice not only to die, but by the hands of the boy she loves the most. That’d be so Wondertastic.”
Chapter 21
The Radcliffe Asylum
Tom Truckle and I take our time staring at the Pillar’s corpse in the coffin. There is little or nothing that I can say. This must be the second strangest day in my life since I went to Mushroomland. I wonder what’s really going on. Nothing makes the slightest sense.
“I didn’t expect that,” Tom says. “So the Pillar is dead?”
I kneel down and check his pulse. “No,” I say. “He is either sleeping or someone sedated him.”
“Why would someone sedate him and send him over?”
“That’s the million-mushroom question. If it proves anything, we’re now sure the Pillar didn’t invite us here.”
Tom scratches his temples. “Then who did?”
“I say we wake the Pillar and ask him.”
The guards are taking care of this part, lifting the professor’s body and transporting it to his VIP cell. We follow their footsteps in silence, still thinking. No conclusions come to mind.
Once he is lying on his couch, I rummage through his pockets and pull out his phone.
“Checking sent messages?” Tom asks.
“Yes. Actually, I can’t find it.”
“So he didn’t send it. Someone managed to convince you it was his phone through some technology.”
“Why use the Pillar as bait?” I’m wondering.
“Because, as ironic as it sounds, you trust him the most,” Tom says bluntly.
“You’re right. I trust him, as puzzling at it seems,” I say. “I trust the man whom I joined to kill or something. I’m so confused.”
“Don’t be,” Tom suggests. “If he is your father, it’s understood. Emotions rule over logic.”
I take one long inquisitive look at the Pillar. Could he really be my father? We don’t even look anything alike.
“Ah-ha! Found it.” I hold the phone up in triumph after pulling it from a hidden pocket in his coat. I distract myself by scrolling through his phone for any clues. “Here,” I tell Truckle. “Proof the Pillar didn’t arrange this meeting.”
Truckle takes a look. “Wow. The Pillar received a message from you, Alice, to meet him at the Inklings Bar?”
“Our mysterious host must have invited him there and then sedated him.”
“It’s hard to believe the Pillar being so foolish.”
“Unless this mysterious host is someone he knows very well.”
“You’re suggesting our host is someone we know?” Truckle says. “One of us, to be precise.”
“Or how would he have sedated the Pillar?”
“Point taken,” Truckle says and points at the TV again. “Look, here is an explanation why the Pillar has been sent to join us.”
I raise my head and stare. This can’t be happening.
Chapter 22
The Radcliffe Asylum
Titling my head, I watch the host announce the Pillar being the mastermind behind the terrorist organization. Professor Carter Pillar, also known as Pilla da Killa, with twelve — or fourteen — people killed, proves to be an easy target. It’s really easy to fake a story about him being a terrorist.
Tom almost chuckles as he watches the Pillar’s profile, blood covered in Tibet, making fun of the Duchess in the Drury Lane Theatre, shooting people left and right, CCTV cameras showing him killing people inside parliament — my naive soul dragged along in a chair, of course — and last but not least, the Pillar’s bloodbath in Colombia.
“I do remember the BBC portraying him as a hero a few weeks back,” I comment. “They praised him for stopping the greatest drug lord in the world.”
“People forget, Alice,” Tom says. “The media can easily turn yesterday’s heroes into today’s villains. News is sometimes like bad remakes of remarkable movies. All jumbled up.”
I watch the Pillar’s footage of killing drug traffickers in Mushroomland, now portrayed as an insider war between drug lords. In truth, it’s hard to blame anyone. I, myself, don’t know what to think of this man.
However, something else puzzles me.
“If whoever invited us all had a chance to kill the Pillar, why didn’t he?” I ask Tom.
“I am assuming it’s someone in Black Chess,” Tom says. “For some reason the search for the Keys and the whole Inklings against them didn’t matter anymore. They know something we don’t. Something powerful.”
“Enough to want to ambush and kill us?”
“Why not? They don’t need us. Not even the Pillar. And because they’re not sure they can do it themselves — considering you and the Pillar always stand in the way — they decided to make you the public’s enemy number one.”
“I understand why we’re now terrorists, but I have a feeling I don’t understand what you’re implying.”
“Think of it, Alice.” Tom stares at the TV. “Don’t you see what’s going on? Our photos are being engraved in the minds of every British citizen in the world. We’re doomed. We’re the reason for every mother, father, and children’s pain in the last few years. This isn’t just about killing us.”
“Then what is it about?”
“It’s about labeling us. Even if we make it out of here, how can we ever persuade people we’re the good guys? By telling them we’re characters from Carroll’s book who just happened to be real? It’s some devious, and genius plan.”
Tom is right.
Having been concerned with the puzzle of my own family, I overlooked the fact that we’re deep in the mud right now. It’s going to be hard to even fight Wonderland Monsters anymore. I wonder if this is really our end.
My thoughts are interrupted by the Pillar’s moans. He raises his heavy head for a brief moment, glances at me with beady eyes, then falls back again.
This is when a slither of hope slices through the grayness of the situation. “What if the Pillar was sent here for another reason?” I challenge Tom.
“Who cares? We’re all mad corpses waiting for exile.”
“Don’t be like that,” I try to cheer him up. “It’s time you think of what’s happening, Dr. Truckle.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you remember why you’ve installed the surveillance cameras inside his cell?”
“Of course, I remember.” Tom was about to burst, but a soft breeze of epiphany cooled him down instantly. “Holy Lord of the Rings. You’re a genius, Alice. How did I forget about that? The Pillar knows how to escape from the asylum and return as he pleases.”
“See? There is hope after all.” I smile.
Chapter 23
The Queen’s Bentley State Limousine
Having arrived, the Queen got out of the limo to talk to the police. Everyone seemed surprised by her presence, but she was welcomed, especially by the press. But before she started babbling on national TV, she’d made sure to send Jack to talk to Margaret in the limousine. Margaret had blurted the words out as bluntly as she could. She’d asked Jack to kill Alice. And Jack said yes, so spontaneously that Margaret had to investigate.
“Just like that?” she wondered. “You’re ready to kill the girl whom you know loves you so much?”
“She doesn’t love me,” Jack said. “She used to stalk me.”
“You’re used to killing anyone who stalks you?”
“Not really, but Lorina, my girlfriend, really hates her guts.”
“Oh.” Margaret was about to slap him on the face, but figured she didn’t want to upset the Queen to get what she wanted. “Do you know how to shoot a gun?”
“Lorina and Edith taught me. They’ve asked me to kill Alice as well.”
“Some family,” Margaret mumbled. “So, I guess my work is done here.”
“All in the name of the Queen,” Jack said. The boy sounded as if brainwashed, but Margaret didn’t want to ask. “All in the name of Black Chess.”
“You know about Black Chess?”
“The Queen told me I should work for them. She promised they will pay my college fees and help me marry Lorina.”
“I see. Can I ask what you really like about Lorina?” Margaret refrained from saying more about the bratty girl with no empathy whatsoever.
“She likes me, so I like her back.”
“You sound so dumb,” Margaret said under her breath.
“What did you say?”
“I said you sound like my first boyfriend when I was in college.” She flashed a fake smile. Who was so dumb, she added in her mind. “So.” She clapped her hands. “I guess we wait here until the right moment comes so you can shoot Alice.”
“I thought I was going to enter the asylum to kill her.”
“No, darling,” Margaret said. “You will have to wait for the Queen’s orders. I’m not sure what exact plan she has in mind, but you will get your shot.”
Chapter 24
The Radcliffe Asylum
Waking up the Pillar is a daunting task.
At one point he opens his eyes and pulls me closer and starts to dance a Caucus Race dance, one I know he is fond of. But when I talk to him, I realize he is kind of sleep walking. I push him away, suddenly conflicted about being so close to him.
It’s hard to even think about him right now. Is he evil? Is he good? Is he my father, or is he my number one nightmare in life? All I know is that he knows how to escape the asylum. A glance at the timer on BBC News shows me we have only ten hours left before the police barge in — or before we have to shut ourselves inside.
“I’m worried he is playing games.” Tom points at the Pillar. “What if he is faking his sleep?”
“I don’t see the point of that,” I tell him. “We’ve already concluded he isn’t the one who’s invited us here.”
“It doesn’t prove he is on our side, though.”
“I know. Stop reminding me. If I search my soul, I may hate him more than you can imagine. Right now, he is our only hope escaping this place.”
Tom takes my words and leaves the cell. A minute later he arrives with his guards carrying buckets of ice cold water. “Time to give the professor a wakeup call.”
The guards repeatedly splash the Pillar with water. None of it wakes him up. The best result we get is the Pillar sneezing, a thin, frail, and cute sneeze, then he goes back to sleep.
“He is faking it,” Tom says. “Who doesn’t wake up from ice cold water?”
“I found something!” The March Hare arrives panting, interrupting our attempts to wake up the Pillar.
“On the walls?” I ask.
“Indeed,” the March says. “First of all, the scribbling is evident in almost every cell in the asylum. Same words, same gibberish, but it all tells the story about her, presumably you, Alice, and Him, and how you joined him to find his weakness.”
“We already know that, March,” I say. “Tell me something new.”
“All the writing was done by the same person,” the March says.
“That’s impossible,” Tom says. “I don’t know of a single patient who’s been to every cell in my asylum.”
“Maybe you don’t know much about your asylum,” I tell him. “The Pillar has proven that already. Who is that same person who wrote the message, March?”
“All the writing is signed by someone who calls himself Patient 14.”
“Oh, not again.” Tom waves a trembling hand in the air.
“You know who that is?” I ask.
“It’s all a myth, Alice,” Tom says. “Just like the writing. It’s some abracadabra nonsense written by the Mushroomers.”
“Tom!” I interrupt. “It’s time to tell me everything you know about this Patient 14.”
Chapter 25
“It all started with Waltraud Wagner and Thomas Ogier,” Tom begins.
“Who are they?” the March asks.
“The two wardens responsible for me when I was in the asylum,” I explain to him. “They enjoyed frying my brains out in the Mush Room. Do you know what the Mush Room is?”
“Of course I do.” The March’s eyes glaze with a bitter taste of a memory. “They repeatedly used it on me when I was in the Hole, the asylum underground where we first met. But that’s before they installed the light bulb in my head.”
“Good.” I face Tom. “So what’s Waltraud and Ogier’s relation to Patient 14?”
“First, you have to understand who Waltraud and Ogier really are,” Tom says.
“I don’t understand. Are they not who they pretended to be?”
“No.” Tom lowers his head, lacing his hands nervously. “I shouldn’t be telling you this. Lewis told me to keep the asylum’s secrets for myself.”
“It’s too late for that, Tom.”
“I agree,” he says and stares back. “Waltraud and Ogier are Wonderlanders.”
“That’s really a bad joke,” I comment. “I mean they never seemed to know about anything that was going on.”
“That’s because I made sure they didn’t remember,” Tom says. “They were Black Chess’ best assassins. They were brutal.”
“How did you make them forget?” The March is curious.
“Lullaby pills,” Tom says. “Lots of them.”
“Why did you want them to forget?” I ask.
“Lewis had always wanted to avoid the inevitable Wonderland War. One of his plans was to get Wonderland Monsters hooked on Lullaby pills. It worked with Waltraud and Ogier, but rarely with the rest.”
“So Waltraud walked the asylum in a haze, not knowing who she was, all this time?”
“Not in the beginning. The pills took some time to work.”
“So which Wonderlanders were they?”
“Tweedledum and Tweedledee.”
Chapter 26
I don’t comment. I’m not sure what to think of this.
“This doesn’t explain anything about Patient 14,” the March says, sounding overly interested. I think it’s because he can sympathize with every patient who’
s been to an asylum before.
“Patient 14 is a legendary patient, a myth like I said, one I’ve never met,” Tom says. “According to the legend he knew of a great secret every Wonderlander sought after. Somehow, when we Wonderlanders crossed over to this world, he ended up in an asylum in Austria where Waltraud and Ogier worked.”
“I’m assuming this was not a coincidence,” I say.
“Not it wasn’t. The Tweedles, or as some call them, the Dum brothers — I like to call them Dumb Brothers, but that’s another story — had been placed by Black Chess to interrogate this mysterious patient and find out the secret he kept. All of this happened in the 19th century when mental patients were still treated in violent ways.”
“And of course the Dum Brothers took turns in tormenting him.”
“Indeed. But Patient 14 was strong. He never spilled the secret. In fact, he influenced a lot of his mates to help him escape, but he failed,” Tom says. “Then later, he was sent to Britain where I was told by Lewis to catch any Wonderland Monsters I came across and feed them the Lullaby pills.”
“You don’t look like you’re capable of catching a Wonderland Monster,” the March says.
“That’s correct. So I lured them to work for me by claiming Patient 14 was hiding somewhere in my asylum.”
“Did it work?”
“It did, even better — and madder — than I’d anticipated.”
“How so?”
“They actually believed he was hiding among the other Mushroomers in here. This is how the Mush Room began.”
“This was the Dum Brothers idea?”
“It was, and I endorsed it. Anything to stop those annoying insane people from babbling all day long. It was driving me crazy.”
“I’d say the pills drove you crazy,” I tell him. “They also made you forget some details.”
“You could say so. But what matters is that the Dum Brothers fried every patient’s head, testing if they were Patient 14.”
“But you just said they’d forgotten who they were.”
