Shards Of The Glass Slipper: Queen Alice

by Roy A. Mauritsen

  As he worked his plan out in his head, Rabbit ripped off a piece of the dead soldier’s cloak, wrapping the dwarven dagger in it and tucking it back inside his grey padded fencing vest. Then he took a moment to pick some brush, dirt and soot from his vest.

  Taking his time, Rabbit searched the bodies. Stripping them of their cloaks and armor he found them to be a good fit for himself— an acceptable disguise that would allow him to travel without inviting a similar encounter. One of the recently dispatched guards had a small short bow, complete with a royal insignia engraved on the grip, and an empty royal quiver, which Rabbit resourcefully filled with arrows he found about the field that had royally colored fletching.

  As he plucked a final arrow and filled the quiver, Rabbit muttered aloud, “That grinning bastard of a cat will have to make a move at some point but I may only have one chance to kill Alice. If it’s up close with a dwarven dagger, or one of Marchenton’s arrows, that should tip the scales for our army to attack. Until then I will have to keep these hidden.”

  With the rest of the cloth he wrapped the bow and quiver and using some belts made a strap and slung it over his shoulder.

  “Now, to find a place to freshen up before I return to Alice, and perhaps some breakfast along the way. No need to rush back through a rabbit hole; taking the roads back should suffice.”

  CHAPTER 31

  MALDAME ARRIVES IN WONDERLAND

  Wonderland, Present Day.

  From the cold and dark of an early morning in Marchenton, just a few claustrophobic moments before death amidst the entangling Bloodthorns, the Maldame stepped through the Looking Glass into the elegance and opulence of Castling, the royal palace of Wonderland. The Cheshire Cat floated through after her.

  They had stepped through a large hallway mirror, one that showed its age with tarnish and fine crackling about the edges. The Maldame took in the grand lavishness of the hallway. It was decorated with fluted columns, gold wall sconces and all manner of adornments. The floor was polished white marble, while grand frescoes and stunningly carved reliefs, finely gold leafed and textured with detailed edges and moldings, hung on the large walls with elegantly framed portraits.

  “Magnificent!” The Maldame marveled aloud. To her left was a heavy curtain of deep red velvet that obscured the rest of the hallway. To her right at the intersection of several Hallways was a great fountain decorated with every manner of sculpted creature of Wonderland, many the Maldame did not recognize, which only heightened her marvel at the exquisite detail. Above the fountain was a dome of stained glass, its colors dancing from the bright sun shining through. Each panel depicted a scene of Alice and her adventures.

  “Do you like?” The Cheshire Cat purred.

  “This all makes the castle of Marchenton seem like a mud hut by comparison,” replied the Maldame. “This was the grandeur I’ve always thought was more fitting to rule from,” the Maldame gazed at the intricate stained glass dome above.

  “This will be my royal palace?” She murmured, still in disbelief. “We should change out the stained glass to something more appropriate, when I’m queen of your land.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Cheshire replied though he was more focused on the Maldame’s dirtied appearance. “We should get you cleaned up and a little more presentable.”

  The Maldame looked back at the mirror; her dress was muddied and torn, far from the elegance of the time of balls and galas for which the dress was designed. The smell of dirt, blood and other odors made her suddenly very aware of herself. The old witch’s hair was matted and disheveled with grime and blood. Her arms and chest had cuts and scrapes from the Bloodthorns and her face was covered in dried blood from gouges where the deadly thorns had dug deep into her flesh.

  The large form of the ethereal cat floated closer. He raised his ghostly paw above the Maldame’s head and slowly began to pull it down through her. She closed her eyes as she felt a cold breeze and slight tingle as the Cheshire Cat’s paw passed through her body.

  Then a moment later, Cheshire floated backward “—to admire my own handiwork if I do say so myself.” The cat gave an unnerving grin.

  The Maldame looked again at herself in the very mirror they had come through only moments prior. The blood was gone and all her wounds had healed and vanished. Her dress, which had been dirty and tattered from the blood thorns, was now restored to its former glory, as if newly created for a grand festival. Upon closer inspection, the Maldame even looked a little younger.

  “Such magic!” she exclaimed, barley able to maintain her conservative airs. “Will I be able to wield such power?” She asked, watching as the brown spots on her wrinkled hand faded and her elderly fingers regained a measure of youth to them. “Easily, once you become queen,” purred the Cheshire Cat.

  From behind them, the soft flutter of a red curtain parted, and from behind it emerged a tall, thin man with wild hair stuffed beneath a tall top hat, his dark patterned jacket and ruffled white shirt covered in a fine spray of blood.

  “I’m a little behind schedule, Chesh,” the man said, his attention on wiping a long bladed dagger clean of blood. “Not everyone drank the poisoned tea. I had to chase down the ones that tried to run way, and some of the duchesses had the audacity to fight back.”

  The Maldame peered past the man to an opening between the red curtains. She saw still bodies lying about what certainly looked like a grand throne room.

  The man noticed her gaze and very casually closed the gap in the curtain. “And who do we have here?” he asked the Cheshire Cat.

  “There’s been a slight change of plans, Hatta. This is the Maldame of Marchenton. And this,” Cheshire gestured with his large semi-transparent paw “is my dear friend Hatta.”

  Hatta gave a polite nod of acknowledgment. “Or Hatter on more formal occasions, or is it less formal occasions?” he said tipping his hat to the Maldame. “Either way is fine with me. I’ll know who you are talking about anyway.”

  “Rabbit went for another child again didn’t ‘e?” Hatter grumbled, sizing up the situation. Shaking his head, “well, I can’t say I’m not really all that surprised.”

  “Afraid so. I had to step in to keep us on track. I will sponsor her to the Caterpillar,” said the Cheshire Cat, floating at eye level with Hatter, various sections of his large body causally fading in and out of view. “The quicker we get the new queen in place the quicker we can neutralize Rabbit.”

  “Agreed,” said Hatter. “Tsk, pity Rabbit won’t be around anymore—at least he’ll be with ‘is girlfriend… if he doesn’t go through with killing her first!” He let out an odd laugh.

  The Maldame politely cleared her throat, “How is this plan to proceed then, Cheshire? How soon until I am queen?”

  Hatter offered an answer, “Ah, in all likelihood, tomorrow!” He thrust his long boney index finger in the air, offering a slightly crazed if somewhat sincere smile. “It will take me the rest of the day to get the throne room cleaned up and the bodies disposed of. Then there’s the matter of getting the Caterpillar to cooperate.”

  “In the meantime, we’ll get you settled, perhaps a bit of lunch and a tour of the grounds,” the Cheshire Cat added with a calmer tone, a purr tickling about his words. “The formal introduction to the Caterpillar will grant you the essence of Wonderland and Wonderland’s magic would be yours. We can discuss our plans and agendas tonight. But first, there’s the matter of paperwork. That will take up a better part of today I’m afraid. There’s always lot of paperwork with these sorts of things.”

  “After all,” Hatter said, “what is madness, if not bureaucracy?” Then Hatter excused himself, “Must get back to it,” he nodded toward the throne room on the other side of the heavy red curtain, “the blood of innocents is always harder to clean up after it has dried.”

  “Speaking of paperwork,” The Maldame’s tone shifted, catching Hatter before he left, “I have a small list of things I humbly request if there’s any way you can see acquiring them for me.”


  “Of course,” replied Hatter, “happy to accommodate the new Queen of Wonderland.” He searched and patted about his clothing, pulled a crumpled piece of paper from an inside pocket and plucked a nub of pencil from the band of his weathered brown hat.

  “A large stick or branch of native wood—“she started to list.

  “Tulgey wood of course, finest wood in the land!” Hatter replied with a wicked smile.

  The Maldame continued to list her requests as Hatter gave little comments on what they could get. “Not sure about a scale of a dragon, how about one from a Jabberwock? Eye of newt, right, right, um… does it have to be a black cauldron?”

  The Maldame finished her list and Hatter with a scratch of his head continued to look over the list of items.

  “Quite the shopping list. One last question, you requested the crushed petals and thorny stem of a rose. Well, in Wonderland, most of the flowers are living and sentient. Will that matter?”

  “Even better,” replied the Maldame with a smile. “I gather from the blood on your coat, you’ve no qualms against killing, much less trimming a few flowers then?”

  “Not at all, let’s just call it a mad case of curiosity. So, what are these items for?” he asked casually.

  The Maldame paused, and then with a smile said simply, “Just a few mementos I’d like to gather,”… then added, “for good luck, of course.”

  The Maldame was confident in her lie; they were in fact items to make a wand, but that was information she would not share with her new friends. Trust, especially in the face of such generosity was not something the Maldame was accustomed to and she felt a need to have her own ace up her sleeve. She reasoned that, should there be a need to control a situation, she would be comfortable with some added leverage on her part.

  ***

  It was almost evening now; the long day had left the Maldame’s head swimming. Trying to take in every detail she could had left her thoughts buzzing with all manner of royal information as she began to prepare to take over the rule of Wonderland. Her hand was still sore from the hours of paperwork the Cheshire Cat had warned her about; most of it seemingly pointless, and pointless in triplicate, no less. Still, there was a satisfying smile of power that crossed her younger looking face, knowing in the end, after all of the formalities, she would be queen. They would hand her keys to the land as long as she went along with their plan and whim on occasion. Such an easy arrangement, she mused. The Maldame was happy to bide her time patiently with these formalities. She stood at a window in one of the guest suites of the royal palace. Far grander than any room in the Marchenton castle and lavish in its décor, it was only a guest room. Her black metal cauldron hung within the fireplace of her room. A newly created wand, over a foot in length - almost humming with possibilities and brimming with magical power - was tucked into her robe. The Maldame reflected on her most unusual dinner, which she found to be rather silly with pointless conversations and bickering between Hatter, the Cheshire Cat and several other animals. She found these to be unclean with no business being around a dinner table, much less talking. Her disdain for the conversation was well masked by a request to retire early after a busy day. She was pleased to find that her wand-making ingredients had been delivered to her room.

  Now the Maldame sipped tea, which she made in her cauldron afterwards. She wore a long sleeping gown with her hair in a younger shade of gray draped in a simple braid that rested upon her shoulder. The wand was hidden under the folds of her nightgown, comfortably attached to her thigh with strip of ribbon. She could almost feel its magic pulse near her skin. A sensation she hand not felt in a long time, and this was even more powerful. A witch would always have her wand, never too far away and instantly available, if needed.

  From her window overlooking the royal garden she admired the brilliant colors of the Wonderland sunset view, as the glowing sun slid across the sky.

  “Knock, knock?” came the soft purring voice of the Cheshire Cat from the hallway. “I see your light is on. Just wanted to make sure you were okay after dinner.”

  “You may enter,” replied the Maldame as she gazed through the window a moment more.

  With ghostly grace, the cat walked through the unopened door, gliding across the polished marble floor towards the Maldame.

  “Can’t sleep?” he asked. “First night jitters are quite understandable.”

  The Maldame set her gold rimmed tea cup down upon a finely crafted, dark wood table.

  “I suppose I will get there eventually,” she replied dryly, feigning the polite exchange of idle conversation. “Cheshire, I noticed that the tour of the palace did not include the grounds. This evening I was curious about the tower there behind the gardens.”

  “Oh that ol’thing,” Cheshire grinned. “That is the Tower of Hearts. The last remaining vestige from the rule of the Queen of Hearts before Alice took over. She left that tower standing as a reminder of the past. It’s pretty old and somewhat ruined. No one goes in. That’s the official story. The real story is, Hatter and I, and Rabbit, used to meet in there all of the time to discuss... um... business plans if you will. The outcome of those plans are, in fact, you standing here about to be given rule over Wonderland. This is also where the Caterpillar is being forced to make his home, at least by our design, if you catch the meaning?”

  “Kidnapped?” The Maldame suggested.

  “More like... under house arrest,” Cheshire offered. “It’s far enough removed and forgotten that no one really bothers with that place anymore. I don’t know how the rumors got about that the ghost of the Queen of Hearts still wanders her tower looking to cut of the heads of anyone that trespasses,” Cheshire said sarcastically in mock spookiness. “Not that I had anything to do with that. But no one goes there.” He grinned and gave a wink. Then he added, “There are tunnels that lead from here at the palace to the tower. Most were sealed or destroyed. One or two remain though. We’ll be over there tomorrow. You will have to meet the Caterpillar before any coronation can ensue.”

  “Such a small little insect as a caterpillar? How necessary is this formality really? Isn’t he quite peevish about being under house arrest?”

  “Oh, my dear Maldame,” said the Cheshire Cat, his voice quivering with offense at the Maldame’s question, “this is not your garden variety caterpillar. He is a gargantuan force. He is the wisps of silk and smoke that intertwine the magic of Wonderland. He is one of the original few, older than time, and has overseen Wonderland from the beginning. If there was ever a God that lived among his people in the land of wonder, it is the Caterpillar of Wonderland that sits upon a mushroom.”

  “I am sorry if I offended, Cheshire. Don’t forget, this is all still new to me,” she offered. “So you have a god under house arrest?”

  “That was Hatter’s doing,” Cheshire said. “I cannot even begin to explain how he pulled that off. Hatter is a genius, and sometimes genius is mistaken for madness. But sometimes they go hand in hand. Who’s to say which hatched the plan, the genius or the maddened man?”

  “And what about that other structure in the field, in front of the tower?” She pointed out into the field before the tower of hearts, behind the walls and topiaries of the royal palace.

  “That is the Grand Looking Glass. The largest mirror in Wonderland! That’s what we use to send our army through to your world. Over the years there have been shards cut from it and polished into mirrors, left on other lands. But that Grand Looking Glass never leaves Wonderland. That is the true looking glass of Wonderland,” he gestured with his ghostly paw to the large construct of mirror in the field outside. “The one we came through from your world was just a reflection into our world. The mirror on the wall we stepped through was an actual shard from the grand looking glass you see out there. Any world that has a mirror, the looking glass can be aligned to receive that reflection thus opening a portal to travel by mirror. But so in tune to the magic of Wonderland is the Caterpillar, he can sense any alignment to an offlander
world.”

  “But would you need a comparable size mirror on the other side to receive the army?” asked the Maldame.

  “Yes, well back in the grander days Wonderland was more robust. We’d build temples in secluded areas of other lands with larger portals that we’d use to send armies through and conquer the land. Now most are destroyed, lost or forgotten. But what you speak of, well that’s offlander logic. You’ll find that in Wonderland how big or small something is, is all a matter of perspective, and perspective can be easily changed especially here in Wonderland. You want to know about magic?”

  Cheshire shifted his large ethereal body around, the transparency of his ever-shifting stripes flashing in opacity for a moment. “There’s a mushroom here that we’ve cultivated, the extract is mixed in water, when ingested or absorbed it will shrink whatever it is down to six inches. Those native to Wonderland have somewhat built up a tolerance, but it works well on offlanders. The Wonderland army has been victorious many a time by simply spraying the opposing army with it. Much easier to defeat an army when every enemy solider is only six inches tall. Alice’s army has taken barrels of that liquid over to your world, by the way. Also, that same mushroom can make something grow terribly tall, again affecting offlanders, and other things you might be familiar with, like a beanstalk.”

  “Or Giants, perhaps? Is that where Giants come from?” asked The Maldame.

  “Perhaps, but that was a long time ago if that ever happened at all,” replied Cheshire, somewhat coyly. “You are certainly one of the more intelligent queens we’ll be having in Wonderland. I’m excited to be working with you,” Cheshire grinned and began to fade away.