THE END.
EVERYTHING SEEMS TO BE QUITE SETTLED HERE NOW THAT THE WAR IS OVER. GO BACK TO THE BEGINNING AND START A NEW JOURNEY.
WARNING! You’re about to spoil a great story by not making a choice! Page back, then click one of the links to advance the story. Otherwise, the next section may not make any sense to you.
first to laugh, you remember. You don’t blame him; it was kind of funny. You just hope Mr. Hightopp won’t be too hard on his son.
You’re called away, still feeling unsettled about the turn of events.
“Happy Horunvendush Fair Day!” you say to the tall gentleman manning the This ’n’ That stall. He’s so thin and pale he resembles the shiny white ribbons you’re buying from him.
“And to you, Your Majesty,” he says, handing you the bag.
“Fine choice, excellent choice,” someone beside you says. You glance up and see a familiar face, though you can’t quite place it.
The man tips his extravagant hat. “Tarrant Hightopp,” he says.
“Of course!” This is the young fellow who assisted his father with the ill-fitting tiara on Toomalie Day.
You glance around for Iracebeth. You don’t blame him for laughing on that day, but Iracebeth has held a grudge against him and his family ever since. Luckily, she’s nowhere in sight. You sigh. She wouldn’t attend the fair, you realize. She can’t bear to be around happy people having fun. It makes you sad.
“Fine quality, those ribbons,” Tarrant tells you. Then he addresses the vendor. “I’ll have one half inch of every color.”
You stroll among the colorful stalls, the laughing crowds, and the delicious scents of open-air cooking. You stop to listen to the traveling troubadours and laugh at the antics of the acting troupe. You join in a rousing dance on the grass. It’s a day that practically sparkles with happiness.
Then you hear a terrifying sound. “What’s that shriek?” you gasp, stumbling into a stall selling chimes and mobiles.
“I’d know that howl anywhere,” the vendor says, fear making his voice shake. “It’s the Jabberwocky!”
As he says the word, you see the flames. The crowds scatter, screaming. Stalls are set on fire, and trees are blackened. The air is thick with heat and smoke.
You race to where you tethered your white horse. You climb into the saddle, feeling it trembling beneath you. A nearby blast of the Jabberwocky’s fiery breath makes your normally docile horse whinny, rear up, then dash crazily around the grounds. You lose your grip on the reins and cling to the horse’s mane.
You pat its neck, desperately trying to calm it, but it just gallops quicker. Coughing, you try to somehow get it to turn around and go away from the fair. The panicking, stampeding crowd only adds to its fear, and it skitters this way and that, getting closer and closer to the flames.
Out of the smoke a top hat appears. It’s Tarrant Hightopp. He grabs the reins and leads your skittish horse to safety on top of a low hill.
He hands you the reins. “How can I ever—” you begin.
But he cuts you off. “Sorry! I have to search for my family. They’re here somewhere.”
You grip the reins with shaking hands and he sprints off. You call after him, but he does not turn back. You watch him head back into the smoke, calling for his family.
Tarrant Hightopp lost his family that day, so you were determined to become—along with his friends—another kind of family for him. You long for family, too, as after your parents passed, your sister wrested away your crown, and you are forced to fight her.
It was never about the queendom to you. It’s just that she is so frightfully cruel to the Underlandians. You can’t stand by and allow it. The Hatter helps you and brings the wonderfully talented Alice Kingsleigh to Underland to defeat the Jabberwocky. You are so sad when you have to banish Iracebeth to the Outlands, but you really have no choice. And it makes you even more grateful to the Hatter and your other friends for the comfort and fun they provide.
But now the Hatter has changed. He has lost his muchness. You decide you must do something about it. He saved you all those years ago; it is time to return the favor.
But how?
SHOULD YOU CALL FOR HIS OLD FRIEND ALICE KINGSLEIGH? PERHAPS SHE CAN DO SOMETHING. GO HERE.
OR DO YOU STAGE AN INTERVENTION? GO HERE.
WARNING! You’re about to spoil a great story by not making a choice! Page back, then click one of the links to advance the story. Otherwise, the next section may not make any sense to you.
YOU AND your friends gather at the Hatter’s house to stage an intervention. “We are all here because we care about you,” you tell him. Reluctantly, he lets you inside.
“We’re quite concerned,” you begin, not exactly sure how an intervention is supposed to go. “You’ve become terribly…” You search for the proper word.
“Serious?” the Hatter says.
“Exactly!” Thackery Earwicket, the March Hare, bounds over to him and knocks the hat off his head. He grabs a few more hats and starts juggling. “So serious you wouldn’t want me to do this!”
The Hatter retrieves the hats and sets them back on their stands. “Is that any way for a full-grown hare to behave? You’re not a little bunny anymore.”
“I, er, um…” Thackery’s ears flop down and he slumps into a corner.
The White Rabbit, McTwisp, rushes in the door. “Oh, my ears and whiskers, I’m so sorry to be late.”
The Hatter frowns. “Being late all the time shows either a lack of organization or a lack of respect.”
McTwisp’s mouth opens, then shuts again.
The Hatter turns to the Tweedle twins. “I’ve always wondered: which of you is the original and which is the copy?”
“Why, I’m the original!” Tweedledee and Tweedledum say simultaneously. They start bickering, then grow silent.
This isn’t how this is supposed to go at all!
“Tell me, Chess,” the Hatter says to the barely materialized Cheshire Cat. “Do you disappear because you fear being seen for who you really are?”
Amazing. You’ve never seen Chess fade grin-first. He must be quite upset.
“Now then, Tarrant…” Bayard, the bloodhound, begins.
“Bayard, old friend,” the Hatter says. “You have a true talent with that nose of yours. But you’re squandering it wasting your time here.”
Bayard turns around in three circles, then lies down, resting his nose on his paw.
You need to get this intervention back on track. “We’re not here to talk about us,” you insist. “We’re here to talk about you.”
The Hatter sits back at his desk. “Your Majesty, surely you have more vital affairs to attend to. Don’t you think this is a bit frivolous?”
Chastened, you gaze at your feet.
“Now please,” the Hatter says, standing again, “I have
Go here to continue.
WARNING! You’re about to spoil a great story by not making a choice! Page back, then click one of the links to advance the story. Otherwise, the next section may not make any sense to you.
EVER THE brave and helpful friend, Alice arrives and agrees to go back in time to help the Hatter. Soon she returns to tell Hatter that it is true: his family really is alive! You are so thrilled for him! And for them! And you are extremely happy that you thought to bring Alice back to Underland.
The Hatter is determined to rescue his family. This means you and his other friends must go to Iracebeth’s stronghold in the Outlands and confront her.
Oh, Iracebeth, you think sadly as you ride through the woods on your white horse. Must we always be at odds? Must our relationship consist solely of one battle after another? You wish with all your heart that things could be different. After all, there once was a time when you actually got along! When you were friends, even.
The Bandersnatch has stopped at the top of a hill, so you tug on the reins. You dismount, then help Mctwisp down from the horse. The poor thing is shaking. That’s not surprising;
he doesn’t usually travel on horseback or at such speed. Mallymkun, the Dormouse, drops from Bayard’s back at your
Go here to continue.
WARNING! You’re about to spoil a great story by not making a choice! Page back, then click one of the links to advance the story. Otherwise, the next section may not make any sense to you.
work to do. There are some who take responsibility seriously.”
You all file out silently, heads bowed. Well, that didn’t go as planned. In fact, from now on, you are all as serious as the Hatter!
THE END
THIS IS FAR TOO SOMBER. TO RETURN TO YOUR DELIGHTFUL FRIVOLITY AND TRY ANOTHER PATH, GO BACK TO THE BEGINNING.
WARNING! You’re about to spoil a great story by not making a choice! Page back, then click one of the links to advance the story. Otherwise, the next section may not make any sense to you.
feet. Soon the horse-drawn cart carrying the March Hare and the twin Tweedles pulls up alongside the Bandersnatch, upon whom Alice and the Hatter still sit.
After a quick discussion, it is determined you will leave your mounts here, and then you separate at the castle, the better to search more efficiently.
“This way,” Tweedledum suggests, pointing at a corridor to the left.
“That way,” Tweedledee says, pointing in the opposite direction.
You chew your lip. This is a horrid place. It’s filled with rotting vegetation, roots and vines cling to everything, and your white gown is instantly mud-and-moss-spattered. But you must find the Hatter’s family, even if that means getting downright dirty.
“There are so many scents,” Bayard complains, sniffing and snuffling with his large nose.
Alice and the Hatter have gone upstairs, so it makes the most sense for you to spread out down on this lower level. “Let’s go in pairs. You two, take that corridor,” you tell the Tweedles, pointing to the hallway straight ahead. “Bayard, you follow your nose wherever it leads. Mally, go with him. You and I,” you say to Thackery, “will investigate—”
“You will investigate nothing!” someone interrupts.
You let out a little yelp as you are all surrounded by Iracebeth’s creepy vegetable footmen.
“You are now prisoners of the Red Queen!” the onion-headed footman next to you announces.
Oh, dear. This wasn’t part of the plan.
You force yourself to be brave as you stand accused, a prisoner in your sister’s kangaroo court. It’s all so crazy you’re surprised there aren’t actual kangaroos bouncing around.
“What are the charges against me?” you ask after she has already announced not only the verdict but the sentence as well.
Iracebeth looks outraged. “You have lied. You have stolen. You are not the rightful queen of Underland!”
McTwisp jumps up. “Objection! Where’s your proof?”
“I don’t need proof!” Iracebeth declares. “I’ve got better!” She holds up the Chronosphere. “I shall have a confession!” She smirks at you.
You feel faint. Is she really going to use the Chronosphere to go back in time to that terrible day you have regretted all your life? Is that what this is all about?
She throws the Chronosphere to the ground. It pops to full size, glowing, ready for travel. She grabs your arm and yanks you inside.
You’re about to find out.
The days roll out under you. You travel farther and farther back in your past, until you reach a time when you were little girls.
Your heart sinks. You know exactly where you are and why you’re here. She’s bringing you back to relive that moment when you did the worst thing you’ve ever done in your whole life—the moment you lied to your mother and betrayed Iracebeth at the same time—when you set the events in motion that brought you where you and your sister are today: she filled with irrational rage, and you never able to make up for the accident you caused.
You can’t bear the idea of having to watch that dreadful scene again. You’ve tried so hard to forget it, though it’s always nagged at you from that day forward, like a tiny ache that doesn’t ever quite go away. Tears cloud your vision as Iracebeth drags you to your childhood bedroom.
“Iracebeth, wait!” you blurt, inches from the door. “I…I lied!”
She seems surprised by your confession.
“I ate the tarts, and I lied about it,” you continue. “If I had just told the truth, none of this would have ever happened. I’m so sorry.”
You look up and meet your sister’s eye.
“Forgive me,” you plead. “Please. If you can…”
Iracebeth’s face softens. A tear trickles down her cheek. Your sister looks even more surprised as she says, “That’s all I ever wanted to hear. Really, it was.”
You embrace her, laughing and crying at the same time. You feel a weight lifted off your shoulders. You should have confessed ages ago. You and Racie have so much lost time to make up for. Then the door to your childhood bedroom opens. Little Iracebeth sees grown-up Iracebeth and shrieks.
And the two Iracebeths immediately turn into rust-covered statues.
Uh-oh.
Rust sweeps through everything! “Come on!” you hear Alice call. You have no idea when she arrived, but you’re awfully glad she did.
Weeping, you carry Iracebeth into the Chronosphere. Time sits slumped beside her, weak and sickly. The Hatter looks grim.
You clutch your rusted sister as Alice desperately races across the Ocean of Time before the rust overtakes you—and the whole world. She has to get the Chronosphere back where it belongs.
You bite your lip, watching the terrifying rust wave flooding everything in its path, swallowing people, creatures, all that you love. Then you remind yourself that this is Alice. She defeated the Jabberwocky! She can do not only the impossible, but the unpossible, too!
And she does! She gets that Chronosphere into place just in the nick of time—and saves Time himself.
As the rust slowly dissipates, your sister’s frozen form starts to thaw. She looks at you and blinks in surprise. You reach your hand out and touch her arm.
You have a question to ask that is long overdue. You gaze at her, tears welling in your eyes. “Can you ever forgive me, Racie?”
Iracebeth stares at you. She narrows her eyes. For a terrible moment, you’re afraid she will say no. But then something miraculous happens.
“I can,” she says matter-of-factly. She laughs, seeming to have surprised herself once more. “I can!” she cries emphatically.
The two of you embrace again, overjoyed.
You are so happy that you declare it a new national holiday.
So it all worked out all right in
THE END.
AT LAST YOU AND RACIE ARE ABLE TO BE HAPPY AGAIN. NOW YOU CAN GO BACK TO THE BEGINNING AND TRY YOUR LUCK AS SOMEONE ELSE!
“YOU CANNOT CHANGE THE PAST. IT ALWAYS WAS. IT ALWAYS WILL BE. ALTHOUGH I DARESAY, YOU MIGHT LEARN SOMETHING FROM IT.”
Through the Looking Glass Page 13
