Malice in Wonderland Bundle 2

by Lotus Rose

  “I can’t make any promises. But maybe you should talk to your father about what you’re feeling.”

  “Ugh. He won’t listen. Maybe you should talk to the Jabberwock. When are you going to do that?”

  Malice crosses her arms. “Whenever I decide to. Besides even if I did appoint him to you, I wouldn’t know where to send him, since I don’t know where you are.”

  “If you appoint him, I’ll tell you.”

  “Fine.”

  “Thank you for considering it. And also thanks for thinking things over. I don’t want to keep you any longer from your regular dreams, so I’ll go. But if you ever have any storytelling requests, I’ll do what I can to address them. We’d make a great team.”

  “Mrrmph.”

  “Okay, goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.”

  Chapter 47

  The Storyteller arrives while Malice, the Hatter and Tweedledee are having breakfast in one of the courtyards. Malice offers him a plate.

  He accepts, then sits at the table that has an umbrella sticking out the middle. He grabs himself some scones.

  After a few bites he declares, “My, these are delicious. Now, I’m here to inform you about your next mission.”

  Malice says, “Before we get to that, I’d like to know more about Sleepy B’s biological parents. Were they murdered? As Queen—”

  The Storyteller interrupts, “You are much too curious. That is the past, and of no concern of yours. Sleeping Beauty is my daughter now, I love her as my own.”

  “Have you talked to her lately?”

  “We are going through a bit of a rough patch. She is strong-willed.”

  “She seems to think your style of storytelling is stuffy.”

  He waves his hand dismissively. “She is young and immature. All that ‘darkness’ and ‘atmosphere’ malarkey are mere gimmicks. She needs to realize that. But enough about that misbehaving child.” He takes some bites of a scone.

  “Okay. Do you happen to know where the Jabberwock is? I’ve heard he still lives.”

  He takes a sip of tea. “He still lives, in a sense. Just his head remains, kept animated by magic. He teamed up with the Headless Horseman, whose body he now controls.”

  “Poor chap,” Hatter says, but the Storyteller gives him a look to quiet him.

  Malice says, “They’re still in Wonderland?” Recently, the dozens of twisted fairy tales had been sent into the outside world, except the former Goody Two-shoes.

  The Storyteller says, “Yes, the Horseman was anchored to Wonderland by his attachment to the Jabberwock. In the game I set up, he was guarding one of the archways. But they have been relocated to Wonderland.” A magical snowglobe had contained Fairy Tale Land, as well as the game the Storyteller had subjected Malice and her team to.

  “Could you tell me where he is, then? I would like to talk to him.”

  “I shan’t,” the Storyteller answers.

  “As Queen, I have the right to know—”

  “I have no allegiance to any queen. My only loyalty is to the sanctity of story.”

  Malice crosses her arms and scowls. “Then perhaps Sleepy B shall tell me. She wants me to appoint him as her guard.”

  The Storyteller glares at her. “That would be extremely foolish and ill-advised.”

  “Why, do you think he’s dangerous?”

  “Quite the opposite. Due to Sleeping Beauty’s…history with jabberwocks, it’s best she stay away from any of them. Why, it’s an unnatural obsession.” He pounds on the table, causing poor Tweedledee’s filled-to-the-brim cup to wobble and dribble tea down the side. He lets out a little whimper.

  Malice sips from her apple juice. “When I asked if you think he’s dangerous, you said, ‘quite the opposite’. Our dear Jabberwock sure is special, isn’t he—so nice to little girls, whereas most jabberwocks love to kill them.”

  “Poppycock,” the Storyteller snarls.

  With a beaming grin, the Hatter says, “They have their little-girl’s-goodbyes songs!”

  Malice says, “But our Jabberwock is so sweet—”

  “Fiddle faddle!” the Storyteller proclaims. He pounds on the table. “He’s not sweet! The only reason he’s nice to little girls is because of a spell making him be!”

  The Hatter starts singing, “Twinkle twinkle, little girl, down the cliff—”

  The Storyteller glares and points at him. “You! Shut up, before I unleash irony on you!”

  The Hatter whimpers and whisper-sings the rest of the line: “—your corpse I’ll hurl.” Now he shuts up.

  Malice says, “What spell?”

  The Storyteller shouts, “You just keep the Jabberwock away from my daughter! I forbid it!”

  Malice huffs. “But Sleepy B wants to meet with him. You know, maybe I should team up with her after all. She’s willing to work with me, and she doesn’t yell and threaten people with irony.”

  Behind Tweedledee’s head, she sees the Cheshire Cat’s head appearing.

  The Storyteller sighs and uses a softer voice. “Please, just trust me. It’s best to keep those two apart. It can only go bad.”

  “Greetings,” the Cat says.

  Malice ignores him. “But she wants me to appoint him as her guard in exchange for her helping me out in my stories. So how about you? Are you willing to help me out some?”

  “Absolutely not,” the Storyteller says. “I have my integrity. And if my daughter were a good storyteller, she wouldn’t compromise the sanctity of the story either.”

  “Fine,” Malice says.

  “Ello there, Cat,” Hatter says. “Where’ve you been?”

  “Chasing a mouse.”

  The Storyteller says, “Now I shall prep you for your next mission, or I shall leave.”

  “Go on, then,” Malice says.

  The Hatter says to the Cat, “Care to join us for breakfast?”

  “No thanks, I just had a mouse.”

  The Storyteller pulls out the purple stake and a metal key from his bag. He sets the stake on an open part of the table. “Now, you shall be going up against the Knight, who was bitten by the Jabberwock’s head that was controlling the Headless Horseman’s body. The two items you shall be provided with are the stake and a key which has the ability to open any lock.”

  Malice says, “Can the stake punch through armor?”

  “Yes, my dear girl. It can go through like a hot knife through butter. You needn’t worry about that. Well, there you are. You’re all filled in. The meal was excellent. Ta-ra.”

  He disappears in a cloud of smoke.

  Chapter 48

  With the Cheshire Cat at her side, Malice travels to the area the Knight has taken up residence.

  She sees a humble cottage in a field with a few trees here and there. She doesn’t see the Knight.

  She says to the Cat, “Well what do you think? Shall we knock on the door?” she says jokingly.

  The Cat jokes back, “I think that might overly scare him. Probably best to shout out instead.” He’s referring to the fact that the Knight had developed parthenophobia, the fear of little girls, ever since he’d been killed by Alice—he’d since been horrified by Malice. Even though she is now 15, it still seems the Knight is afraid of her.

  “I think you may be right.” She cups her hands around her mouth and shouts, “Knight! Oh, Knight! It’s Malice!”

  The Knight’s voice calls out from the cottage, “Oh, Malice! You’re here! I’ll be out shortly!”

  The door opens. The Knight stands in the doorway with his back to them—she can see his chainmail armor. She is puzzled by the facts of him being backwards and the fact that he always used to wear black plate armor.

  She is standing a safe fifteen feet away, in case he charges her with a sword or something.

  The Knight walks backward out the door. He turns around.

  She sees the Knight now has a jabberwock head, with his old floppy white mustache above his mouth.

  “Crikey!” she exclaims.
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  The Knight (at least she assumes it’s the Knight) grins. “Sorry for the delay. I have to fiddle a bit with the door, due to my hands being bound behind my back.”

  It’s the same pompous voice she remembers him having. He isn’t wearing armor, though, like she’d first thought. He’s wearing dark trousers and a long coat and a chainmail cape. He’s holding his hands behind his back for some reason.

  The Cat exclaims, “Why, you’ve got the head of the Jabberwock, the clothes of the Headless Horseman, and the mustache of the Knight. You, sir, are a mutt.” He cackles gleefully.

  The Knight says, “Ah, there you are again, Cat. Always tagging along aren’t you? Just so you know, my cape is different. The Horseman’s was simple cloth, but mine is chainmail, with many blades along the bottom, allowing me to use it as a weapon, since I can’t carry a sword.”

  Malice says, “And why can’t you?”

  He answers. “I don’t mean to be rude, Queen, but are you daft?! Why, my hands are chained behind my back!”

  Malice snarls. “No need to be rude. My implication was, why, praytell, are your hands chained behind your back?”

  “Oh, that,” the Knight says. “Well, you see, my body below my neck is the same as before, and still imbued with a heroic and valiant spirit. And so I’ve had to bind my hands behind my back to keep my valiant knight portion from attacking and attempting to behead the jabberwock, Ebumar.”

  The Cat busts out in cackles. “Oh, that’s marvelous!”

  Malice almost grins at the concept, but the kindness program clamps down. “Ebumar?”

  “Yes, that’s my nemesis’s jabberwock name, that I came up with.”

  “Sounds like Ebugor,” Malice says, recalling the mispronunciation of Abigail aka Sleepy B’s name.

  His eyes go wide in outrage. “It most certainly does not! That’s a female’s name.”

  “Well, yes…”

  “And I am not a female! That’s why it’s Ebumar, not Ebugor.”

  “The ‘gor’ makes it female?”

  “Yes. Well, actually it means princess. ‘Mar’ means male warrior.”

  And does the ‘Ebu’ stand for anything?”

  “It means intelligent and imaginative.”

  Malice mulls his words. Could Sleepy B’s real name actually be a jabberwock name? If so, how did it happen, and what would it mean? “And are you intelligent and imaginative?”

  He huffs. “I most certainly am! Since I can’t use my arms, I created this cape weapon that I can use on my opponents, but cannot be used upon Ebumar, thus ensuring I don’t unwittingly attack myself.”

  “My, how clever.”

  He bows. “Thank you. And now, I know why you’re here. And so I challenge you, Queen Malice, to a duel…to the death!”

  Malice feels a tingly sensation and her hair lifts from her head. Numerous lightning bolts streak from the sky to the ground about twenty feet away in various directions around them.

  It causes a brilliant flash of light followed by loud booms of thunder.

  Malice’s hair resettles. “Knock it off, Sleepy B!” she shouts.

  Now she feels a cold sensation spreading in her chest and presses her hand there. She feels no ticking. She realizes the lightning must have shut her ticktock heart off somehow, meaning its kindness programming will no longer hold her back.

  Malice smirks and places her hand upon her hip. “Ha ha! You challenge me?! Are you sure you can do it without wetting your pants? I seem to recall you being terrified of little girls…” It feels strange referring to herself as a ‘little girl’, since she’s 15, but apparently she is one, as far as the Knight is concerned.

  “Bwahaha,” says the Cat. “You’re scared of little girls.”

  The Knight’s voice trembles slightly as he says, “Hardly, for you see, the jabberwock portion of my nature has counteracted my old self’s unfortunate…condition.”

  Malice smirks. “You mean your pants-wetting, thumb-sucking fear of little girls?”

  He nods. “But my fear was not exactly unfounded…”

  “Of course, it came from Alice snapping your neck,” she says with a crooked little grin.

  The Knight huffs. “Nonetheless, the jabberwock portion of me has negated it. For you see, the jabberwock species has a natural hatred of little girls. It’s built into them, an intrinsic part of the very fabric of their being, and so, ever since I grew my jabberwock head, the hatred for little girls has overcome the fear. I shall have no problem fighting you.”

  Malice feigns an innocent wide-eyed expression. “You would duel me? But I’m just a little girl.” She presses her finger to the side of her mouth. “I’m not a warrior, and all I have is this little wooden stake.”

  The Knight shrugs. “Well, that’s too bad for you. I shall relish killing you and removing the scourge of a little girl from the world.” He chortles.

  Malice doesn’t appreciate being chortled at, especially now that she’s (temporarily) heartless. She brings out the key and holds it up. “This key right here, has the magical ability to open any lock…”

  A worried look upon his face. “Even the one on my cuffs?”

  “Of course. Are you daft? It’s a lock isn’t it?”

  He winces and the worry grows deeper. He swallows. In a wavering voice, he says, “My…what a marvelous invention.”

  Malice grins mockingly. “Care to give it a try?”

  “No! We must duel, immediately! Prepare thyself to be vanquished, my foe!” He begins whirling in place, while ducking and rising—causing his deadly cape to spread out and weave through the air. “Witness with terror, my loathsome cape. Its woesome deadly blades shall cut you asunder and vanquish thee. Oh, expect no pity from my cape of doom, for it brings only the message of death. Prepare thyself for thy end. What say you in witness of its deadly majesty?” He stops spinning and the cape tinkles as it returns to rest.

  Malice shrugs. She tosses the key to his feet, causing his eyes to go wide in alarm. He begins to turn around. “What?! No!” With his back now to her, he begins to kneel. “Take it back! Hurry!”

  “Sorry, it’s out of my hands…”

  Awkwardly, he picks up the key.

  Malice says, “It’s in your hands now…” She giggles and the Cat chuckles too.

  Through the chainmail of the cape, she can see his hands fumbling about.

  “No!” he shouts. “Why do I continue engaging in this behavior?! I must heroically stop. I must show my valiant, legendary strong will.”

  Malice tuts. “Can you manage it? Need a hand?”

  “No!” he cries as his wrists are freed. He stands back up.

  As Malice steps around him so she can see the front of him, she smirks. “Wasn’t sure you could pull it off. I’ve really got to hand it to ya.”

  He looks at her with a mournful expression and wet eyes. “It’s like I can’t stop myself. The knight in me wants to heroically behead the jabberwock.”

  Malice smirks. Since her heart is off, she’s truly enjoying this. “Wish I could help, but my hands are tied. Wait…” She puts on an expression of mock surprise at what she just said.

  He takes his cape in his hands, holding it by the end, where the blades are. “Will I slay the jabberwock?”

  “Snicker-snack?” Malice says.

  “What’s that?”

  “Like the poem. Will your cape go snicker-snack? And there was some galumphing too, I think.” She tries to remember the lines.

  “Oh, hush, you loathsome little girl. I must slay the jabberwock! Die!” He slams a blade into the side of his neck and the razor sharp edge sinks in, causing blood to spray out.

  He sways, but remains standing.

  Malice pouts. “Aww…it didn’t go snicker-snack. Perhaps you should try—”

  He lets out a gurgly roar. Again he strikes his neck, sending the blade half way through. He loses consciousness and collapses to the ground.

  Malice completes her sentence. “—again. Yet still th
ere was no snicker-snack. Perhaps, because it was a cape and not a sword. What do you think?”

  The Cat answers, “I think it’s perhaps because the blade didn’t cut clean through?”

  “Perhaps. Oh well, let’s get the pathetic bloke revived, shall we?”

  “Let’s do.”

  Malice kneels and drives the stake into his heart. The Knight glows purple and transforms, he heals and his regular head returns—he’s back to his usual black-armored, non-helmeted, droopy mustached self.

  He opens his eyes.

  “Booga booga!” Malice shouts.

  The Knight screeches, shoots up onto his feet, and runs away.

  Malice says, “It seems his parthenophobia has returned.”

  “Quite,” says the Cat.

  Chapter 49

  As expected that night, Sleepy B once again visits her in her dreams. By this time, her heart has started working again.

  “Hey Queen Mali, I quite enjoyed the story of you and the Knight. It would’ve been more dramatic in the rain, though.”

  “You were already going overboard with the thunder and lightning.”

  “Yes, but I stopped when you asked me to.”

  “When I yelled at you to.”

  “Okay, when you yelled at me to. I’m sorry you didn’t appreciate how I was trying to help the story, but I was willing to work with you. I want us to get along. But I do love a good rainstorm. If you ever desire one…”

  Malice rolls her eyes. “Oh, sure, I’ll be so sure to call out to you. So I can get drenched.”

  Sleepy B grins her fangy grin. “See, that’s why we should be partners. My father would never do that for you.”

  “You’re right. He’s always putting up roadblocks, threatening people with irony.”

  “Pfft. Him and his irony.”

  “Yeah. And he wouldn’t even tell me where the Jabberwock is! I mean, I’m the queen!”

  “He’s so pigheaded! But I know where the Jabberwock is.” She provides brief directions. “Do you want to talk to him?” She arches a hopeful brow.