by Amy Sumida
“I was expecting you thirty-three minutes ago,” he chided me.
“Who are you?” I asked him as I stood. “And what are you doing in my house?”
“This isn't simply a house, my dear.” He grimaced. “It's a gateway.”
“A gateway to what?”
“To where,” he corrected me. “And I suppose that was inaccurate as well. The gate lies beneath the house. The building itself is merely a disguise. Subterfuge for the subterranean entrance to Wonderland.”
“I know jujitsu,” I warned him.
“Yes,” he drew out the word as he narrowed his eyes on me. “I assume that's some kind of warrior training that Theodore taught you.”
“You knew my uncle?” I gaped at him.
“Alice, dear,” he huffed. “I knew your whole family. I was present at your birth.”
“Well, how was I supposed to know that?” I nearly shrieked.
“Didn't Theodore tell you?” The man scowled. “That was remiss of him. Perhaps he left you a letter somewhere?”
“A letter? Telling me that a man was going to meet me after his funeral?” I rolled my eyes. “Sure, it must be here somewhere.”
“A letter telling you who you really are, Alice Wild,” the man said sternly.
“Wild?” I asked. “My last name is Turner.”
“By all that's bloody, it is not!” The man appeared deeply offended. “What an awful name. I suppose Theodore thought it was amusing–turning away from Wonderland or something silly like that. Turner is an action, not a name, and it is not yours. It belongs to an earther, one of those people.” He waved his hand toward my front door. “You are a Wild, the last Wild in all existence, and heir to the throne of Wonderland.”
“Oh, wow.” I blinked at him. “You're bonkers, completely mad. There's a crazy person in my house.”
“As if that has any bearing whatsoever,” he huffed. “Now, I assume that Theodore would have left something for you in his laboratory. Shall we?”
“How do you know about the laboratory?”
“Alice, do keep up,” he snapped. “I know you and your uncle. I've been here several times to check on you and receive progress reports for Their Majesties. The Card Kings of Wonderland are very concerned for your safety.”
“The Card Kings?” I asked as I followed him downstairs to the basement. “You just said that I was the heir. Maybe you should rethink your delusions.”
“Ugh.” He rolled his eyes. “I don't have the patience to explain all of this to you, just hurry up!”
“Where are we going?”
“To Wonderland!” He stopped and turned to stare at me in bafflement. “Are you a bit slow? Theodore never told me you were stupid.”
“I am not stupid!”
“All right then,” he growled, “let's go.”
“I'm not going anywhere with you! I don't even know your name.” I stopped midway down the stairs.
“I am Warren White.” He bowed. “At your service, Queen Alice.”
“Oh, now I'm a queen.” I chuckled. “I can't believe this day.”
“You must!” Warren declared. “If you do not believe, we are all lost, Your Majesty.”
“All right, easy now, Warren.” I held up my hands. “It was an exclamation. Although, I'm not too sure what you want me to believe in.”
“Why, in yourself, of course! And it would be foolish not to since so many others already believe in you. Truly; how much belief does one woman require?”
“Who believes in me?”
“Nearly all of Wonderland,” Warren growled. “Enough of this! Let's go, Alice! We're already late!”
“Okay, Warren.” I rolled my eyes and followed him down to the basement.
I know it sounds crazy, but I was just happy not to be alone. I didn't care if the man was a lunatic, at least I didn't have to think about Theodore lying dead in the ground while I laid in an empty house. Anything was better than that.
“Aha!” Warren was in my uncle's laboratory, at his desk, and had found an envelope in the drawer. “Here it is. I knew he'd leave word for you.”
Warren handed me the envelope, and I saw that it had my name scrawled across the front of it in my uncle's handwriting. I scowled at it a moment before I tore open the sealed envelope and read it aloud.
“Alice, my sweet girl, there is so much that I haven't told you, but I'm sure that Warren will explain; either him or Nicholas. You can trust them completely, as well as the Card Kings. They all have your best interests at heart because your best interests are also theirs. Things are about to get topsy-turvy for you, Alice. I wish that I could be there to help you, but if you're reading this, it means that time has come to an end for me. It runs here, not like over there, and I have lost track of it, it seems. But your time is now, Alice. I have done the best I could for you. I have given you the tools you'll need in the days to come. Fight, my sweet girl; fight for Wonderland and her people because both belong to you. You are the last of the Wilds, and Wonderland needs you. Remember what I've taught you; all the stories are true. Keep your heart and mind open; love is not always what we expect it to be. All my love, Uncle Ted. PS Follow the white rabbit.”
“Okay, are you ready now?” Warren asked impatiently.
“No, I'm not ready now,” I huffed. “What does this mean? Wonderland needs me? I'm the last of the Wilds? Follow a damn rabbit?”
“That last bit would be me,” Warren said. “But first, we need to make you small enough to follow me.”
“Will this start making sense soon?”
“Absolutely not,” he declared primly. “Sense is for earthers; wonderlanders know that the best sense is non. Ah, yes, here it is!” He took a crystal bottle down from a bookshelf and handed it to me. “Just one sip. Too much and you'll be the size of–”
“A pea,” I finished as I took the bottle.
“He did tell you! Excellent. Drink up.”
“This is absurd,” I said as I took the bottle. Then I noticed the label tied to it. Again, my uncle's handwriting. I read, “Drink me, Alice.” I grimaced at the bottle. “Well, that's to the point. Oh, why not?”
I uncorked the bottle and took a sip.
“Hurry; hand it over before you drop it,” Warren said as he snatched the bottle away from me and tucked it into his vest.
His voice seemed to echo around me as my world grew, or I shrunk, rather. I jolted in shock as I stared up at Warren's massive body. His legs were like redwoods.
“All right, in you go.” He waved his hand behind the same bookshelf that he had taken the bottle from. “Don't worry; I have the cake.” He patted his vest pocket.
I went to the edge of the bookshelf and peered around it. It was pulled out just enough for a small animal to crawl behind it, or a very small Alice. And there was a hole in the stone wall.
“Come on, Alice. I don't have all day,” Warren huffed.
Then Warren's body shimmered and shrank. I leapt back as he became a fluffy, white rabbit. All of his clothing disappeared except for his tapestry vest, which shrank along with him. Warren the White Rabbit hopped past me and into the hole.
“Follow the white rabbit,” I whispered to myself. “What the fuck is happening to me?”
“Hurry up, Alice!” The White Rabbit called.
So, I followed him into his hole. At the point, I really had no choice.
Chapter Two
A few feet into the hole, the ground dropped out from under me, and I started to fall. I screamed for awhile, and then I realized that I was floating more than I was falling. I opened my eyes warily and saw the root-veined earth slowly shift into raw stone, and then into polished marble. I ran my hand along the side of the tube I fell through and found myself slowly approaching it as my point of gravity altered. Everything turned around on me, and the walls of the tube became the bottom of a shaft until I was sliding down the slick stone and out into a circular room. My butt skidded across the marble floor, losing momentum, and then I came to a
squeaking stop.
Warren was still in his rabbit form, waiting for me near a curved wall, tapping his foot impatiently.
“Hurry up, Alice!” He hopped over to one of five doors that were spaced around the room and kicked it open.
The door Warren chose was the only rabbit-sized door in the place. The other doors were of a size more appropriate for the average human. Since I was still a miniature version of myself, I didn't concern myself with the other doors, but I did note that they each bore a symbol from a deck of playing cards; the heart and diamond were both red, and the spade and club were black. I hadn't caught the symbol on the back of the tiny door, or if there had been one at all, and I didn't think about looking for it until after I was through.
Then I had other things to concern myself with.
At first, I thought we were in a forest; then I realized that the monstrous trunks, slick and green, were actually flower stalks. I had stopped to stare up through the cover of their enormous leaves, at the vibrant petals above me, and Warren hadn't noticed. He just kept hopping ahead, all Little Bunny Foo Foo–until the flowers attacked me.
With a trumpeting sound, a daffodil knocked me off my feet. Then a tiger lily growled and undulated its stalk down to . . . well, stalk me. I shrieked and rolled into a fighting stance, ready to punch out some petunias, when Warren doubled back and placed himself before me protectively.
“This is the Wild Heir, you foolish flowers!” Warren shouted as he thumped his back leg. “Do you not know your queen?”
The flowers froze, then lowered their heads to brush me with inquisitive petals. I straightened out of my crouch, looking at the monstrous blooms warily. By the time they were done inspecting me, I was covered in pollen, but they seemed satisfied. The blossoms bent double as if they were bowing.
“Now, if you don't mind,” Warren said primly, “we're expected at tea. I swear, the hurrier I go, the behinder I get!”
The flowers eased back, properly chastised, and Warren and I continued up the path.
“Do not tarry, Your Majesty,” Warren snapped. “Tulgey Wood is full of many dangers, and we've only just entered it. We still need to pass by the Bandersnatch burrow before we reach our rendezvous point.”
“Who are we meeting?” I asked.
“The others,” he said. “You'll know them when you meet them.”
“Obviously,” I huffed and trudged after him. “Can't we get big now? Then we wouldn't have to worry about joining the War of the Roses. Also, I can't believe I just said that.”
“What have I said about belief, Alice?”
“To have some?” I was baffled.
“Absolutely,” he said approvingly. “We cannot grow right now. It's easier to get by the bandersnatch when you're small.”
“What's a bandersnatch?”
“A frumious creature with a long neck and snapping jaws,” Warren said gravely.
“What the hell does frumious mean?” I gave him my bewildered face.
“It is the concise word for the bandersnatch's fuming and furious character,” Warren instructed me. “Don't you have words that combine other words into one, much more simpler word?”
“Uh-huh sure.”
“The bandersnatch is very quick, but pays no mind to small creatures such as we are currently.”
“Why not?”
“Well, what sort of meal would we make?” Warren huffed. “We aren't worth the effort. If he paid us mind, he'd have nothing left to give the larger creatures.”
“Oh, I see.” I veered around a pebble the size of a boulder and scowled at my black dress. “Maybe I should have changed before we left. You might have warned me about the terrain.”
“You did change”–he glanced at me with a frown–“you're much smaller than you were.”
“I meant my clothes,” I snapped.
“Oh.” Warren stopped and looked me over. “Yes, I see. Nothing to be done for it now. Perhaps we can find you something more colorful at the tea party. Come on; we're late.”
“Yes, so you've said.” I rolled my eyes. “Colorful, indeed. Yes, that's the problem with my outfit; it's not colorful enough.”
Creepy cries echoed through the woods around us, and the underbrush we journeyed through shivered as if it were afraid. I was tense, searching this strange place as we walked through it, uncertain which direction trouble would come from, but sure that it would come. Through the swaying blades of grass, I could glimpse massive tree trunks looming above us. They seemed too large to exist and made horrendous creaking noises that hurt my ears. Beetles the size of a VW bug scampered up to us, startling me, but Warren just huffed at them, and they hurried away.
“How much farther?” I asked. “You realize that I'm wearing heels?”
“Heels?” Warren narrowed his beady rabbit eyes on my feet. “Now, why would you do that?”
“I just got home from my uncle's funeral!”
“Keep your voice down,” Warren hissed. “We've only just passed the bandersnatch.”
“You said that he wouldn't bother with us.”
“You don't seem like you'd be a bother,” a voice purred from above us. “No bother at all.”
“Cat!” Warren cried. “Well met.”
“Yes, well, indeed,” the voice intensified as a feline face parted the grass to peer at me. It was a dark gray tabby with green eyes that glowed. “You two are late.”
“I keep telling her that, but she doesn't seem to hear me.” Warren gave me an annoyed look.
“I can hear you just fine.” I rolled my eyes. “I just can't walk very well in these shoes.”
“Why did you put them on if you can't walk in them?” The cat asked.
“I didn't think I'd be walking through the woods today.”
“Hmm, not much of a planner, are you?” The cat sniffed me. “But you are a Wild, that much is certain.”
“Of course she's a Wild,” Warren snapped. “I fetched her myself. This is Alice.”
“Then I am at your service, Your Majesty,” the cat said.
“Who are you?” I asked it.
“Interesting question,” the cat murmured. “I knew who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have changed several times by then.”
“I don't need you to give me some esoteric bullshit on your inner you,” I huffed. “Just tell me who you are.”
“Do you want my name, rank, or affiliation?” The cat asked as its head turned in a complete circle.
I gaped at it until I realized that the cat was floating and his whole body had turned along with his head. Oh yes, a floating feline is so much easier to accept than a fully rotating head.
“This is insane,” I whispered. “Utter madness.”
“Don't worry about that,” the hovering cat said. “We're all mad here. I'm mad, you're mad, he's mad.”
“How do you that I'm mad?” I huffed. “We've only just met.
“You must be, or you wouldn't have come here.”
“Oh, fantastic,” I said dryly. “And to answer your earlier question; just a name will suffice.”
“That's no fun,” the cat pouted. “How can I show off my prowess to my new queen if she doesn't allow me to give her my rank and affiliation?”
“Then why did you even ask me?”
“I was being polite.”
“Would you just tell her who you are already so that we can get on with it?” Warren grumbled.
“I am Nicholas of the Order of Cheshire, Knight of Wilds,” the cat bowed. “And I shall see you safely to tea, Queen Alice.”
“I am seeing her safely to–oh, never mind.” Warren started hopping away. “We're late enough as it is. I can't find my damn gloves either,” he kept muttering as he went.
“My uncle told me to trust Nicholas,” I said. “Is that you?”
“Yes, I knew your mother's brother well. I knew all of your family. If you will climb onto my shoulders, Your Majesty?” Nicholas said as he lowered himself before me. “I shall carry
you to the rendezvous point faster than you can walk.”
“Thank you, Sir Nicholas.” I climbed onto his shoulders and took huge handfuls of fur.
“Call me Nick,” he said and shot through the air.
“Do not start the meeting without me!” Warren shouted after us.”
I clung to the flying cat as Tulgey Wood whizzed by, but soon, he was slowing down to circle a clearing. In the center of this clearing there was a little house, and in front of the house, there was a long table set haphazardly with all manner of porcelain plates, teacups, saucers, and eating implements. An enormous cake sat in the middle of the table, with smaller cakes surrounding it, and several teapots ranged down each end. Three individuals sat at around the table: a man, a brown rabbit, and a mouse.
“A mouse drinking tea,” I whispered, thinking of my uncle's stories. “The stories really are true.”
“I'm sure they are,” Nick said. “whatever you're speaking of. There's usually a grain of truth in every word uttered. It's just that sometimes you have to search harder to find it. Once you do, however, you can make some lovely bread.”
“You cannot make bread from grains of truth,” I said.
“Of course you can.” Nick smoothed his whiskers sagely. “Truth bread is the tastiest, but it can be hard to swallow.”
“Then you should eat cake!” The man at the table declared. “Where's the cake?”
“It's right in front of you, Hatter.” Nick rolled his eyes and himself, taking me along for the ride. “I prefer bread and butter.”
“Is that she?” The man asked as he stood so violently that his chair crashed back onto the Persian carpet that had been laid over the grass.
Hatter; well, he did have a large hat on, so his name seemed appropriate. It was a garish green hat, with a paisley band about it and a flat brim. A card tucked into the band read: In this style 10/6. Whatever the hell that meant.
“Yes, this is Queen Alice,” Nick said as he floated down to the table.
“You're awfully small for a wild queen,” Hatter noted. “I seem to remember the Wilds as being much more magnificent in stature. Much more muchier. Have you lost your muchness?”
