Unbirthday

by Liz Braswell

  “Might as well be as fast as a sliggerdoo,” the Hatter said sadly. “Might as well be as slow as a Racing Lorikeet.”

  Alice didn’t say anything, afraid of getting her hopes up. But his words were silly and he had seemed to shrink a little. And his hat might have been just a touch bigger than before.

  The first inhabited hamlet they came to was a tiny farmstead. Only half of the orchards around seemed to have been set on fire, and these smoldered ineffectually anyway. The minuscule houses hunkered down and bowed out like animals against whatever attacked.

  “Hello?” Alice called, turning off the main road and onto a dusty path that had been only splattered a bit rather than painted. The dust shrugged off the liquid, as expected; it beaded up and dried in ugly pots and divots.

  “Hello?” she cried again. “It’s Alice. I’m here to help. The…recoveringly Mad Hatter is here. Hello? We’re not going to hurt you!”

  Eventually these constant and vaguely soothing words produced some result: several very strange furry creatures dressed in farmers’ duds poked their heads out of doorways, holes, and wells. They were sparklingly golden and almost perfectly round and didn’t seem to have any eyes at all. Their large, adorable noses tested the air rapidly like rabbits’.

  “GO AWAY!” one cried out, turning toward Alice, having apparently found her by scent or sound. “Leave us to mourn our family and farm in peace.”

  “There will be no peace for anyone,” Alice called back reasonably. “There will be no more anyone. Once the Queen of Hearts has a significant pile of toys, she plans on bringing about the End of Time and ending the world.”

  One of the golden moles howled at this and clutched its baby—which was the tiniest, roundest, cutest thing Alice had ever laid eyes on, and despite the urgency of her mission, her fingers actually itched to hold it.

  “No more no more no more,” another one cried. “Bring the bandersnatches and dovercoots, but let it be over finally.”

  “She’s speaking the truth,” the Hatter said, raising his voice. “She’s been to the Grunderound. She’s had messages from Mary Ann. In a sense, she was sent by Mary Ann.”

  “Mary Ann?” one of the creatures said softly.

  “I bring this,” Alice said, pulling the egg out of her pocket. A dozen noses, some whose owners she couldn’t even see the rest of, quested at and queried the air excitedly. She turned the club so it was facing them, though she had no idea if they could see it was there—or if they merely hungered for fresh egg. “We have an ally in the Queen of Clubs. If she sees that everyone is opposed to the Queen of Hearts, she will come with her armies and save us.”

  “And Mary Ann arranged all this?” a different mole—or perhaps one of the first ones, Alice honestly couldn’t tell—asked hopefully.

  “No, I did,” Alice said through gritted teeth. “But…because Mary Ann summoned me.”

  The Golden Moles whispered to each other and conferred in a snuffling, whustly way.

  “Mary Ann will bring the Queen of Clubs.”

  “Armies of cards will go to War and we shall be saved.”

  “We shall be saved and all our toys returned.”

  “And the End of Time shall not come earlier than usual!”

  “We hear,” a female mole spoke up. At least Alice assumed it was female; its voice was slightly higher and it had a bright blue kerchief knotted neatly around where its neck would have been had it not been such a delightfully round creature.

  (Of course, this was Wonderland, and one shouldn’t make assumptions.)

  “And we feel. We will tell.”

  “We will tell! Mary Ann and the Bringers of Hope!”

  And then, without another word, the creatures all went tail up—although they didn’t actually have tails—and snuffled down into whatever earth was closest to them. Alice watched with alarm as their shapes pushed up dirt and zoomed just below the surface faster than she felt was strictly acceptable for underground speed without a premade tunnel. If they hadn’t been so cute and furry in person they would have been terrifying.

  “Just imagine if they traveled like that in Mother’s garden and lawn back home,” she murmured.

  “That went well. I think,” she added more loudly.

  “In fact they were faster than sliggerdoos,” the Hatter mused. “But don’t expect everyone we meet to be so agreeable.”

  And of course no one else at all was like that, because no two people or groups of people in Wonderland were alike. The next thing they came to was a very tiny, very detailed castle, accurate down to all the loops and the garderobes. Alice walked around it grinning in delight, wishing she had something like it as a little girl. She could easily have crouched and hidden in the bailey—with a good book or two, or maybe a snack—and had her dolls man the battlements.

  Comfortably tucked inside the walls were several toddlers armed to the teeth, one with a crown on her head that seemed to be made out of hawthorn switches and paste gems.

  Alice tried to make her case as well as she could to such an audience but was cut off immediately.

  “WE CAN DEFEND OURSELVES! BE OFF WITH YOU!” one baby—whose nappy dipped precipitously—shrieked.

  “But you’re just wee little bairns,” Alice said, alarmed. “And I see there’s a dolly over there in the corner, and a stuffed bear. The Hearts army will seize it all immediately.”

  “WE ARE PROOF AGAINST THE QUEEN OF HEARTS!” the queen baby screamed. “NO ONE SHALL CONQUER US WHILE THE DOOKIE TOWER STANDS!”

  “The—oh, I see. But here, look.” Alice brought out the egg, wondering if it was perhaps a bad idea: if the Queen of Clubs saw these obstreperous babies, perhaps she would assume that more Heartlanders wanted no rescuing. “The Queen of Clubs shall come and save us and protect us if only you will resist, in word if not deed, the Queen of Hearts’ plan. You know she intends to destroy the world?”

  “WE DO NOT RELY ON FOREIGN ARMIES,” the little queen shrieked. “AND NEITHER SHOULD YOU IF YOU HAD ANY SENSE. SAVE YOURSELF, OR SAVE YOUR WORLD YOURSELF. OTHERS ARE FOR NAUGHT BUT CHANGING NAPPIES AND BUYING MILK.”

  “Well!” Alice said, putting her hands on her hips. “Aren’t you a naughty bunch of babies!”

  At this the quartet began to scream and cry and shriek louder and grow red in the face. Hurriedly Alice found a dummy in the eastern ramparts and stuck it into the queen’s round, howling mouth. The baby shut up immediately but continued to glare at Alice with large, beautiful eyes.

  “Told you,” the Hatter said as they wandered away.

  “Yes, but they were just babies,” Alice said, unsure what she meant. “In any case, in fairy tales these things always go in threes, so at our next place we should get a real idea of how things are going to go.”

  She was silent for a moment as they walked, still brooding on the interaction.

  “But really: ‘Other people are for changing nappies.’ How rude.”

  “Well, could you imagine a bunch of babies touting the benefits of self-reliance instead?” the Hatter asked. “At best it would be rather ironic, wouldn’t you say?”

  Alice honestly couldn’t tell if that was Nonsense or sense. She was beginning to lose track.

  Somewhat foolishly, Alice didn’t question how they were able to move so freely down the main road—which was dotted with signs specifically to intimidate people like them—without their actually being hunted or captured. She was Alice. This was Wonderland. And though every place and every person here was different, they were all gifted with a singular lack of an attention span. Alice had no doubts that the Queen, having had the road painted red, had promptly forgotten it.

  Instead her thoughts wandered. She wondered if Mary Ann had ever been on this very road before all the terrible things began. If she had, there was a chance that Alice’s shoes actually trod in the other girl’s footsteps! That was a strange thought. She shivered, imagining ghosts and ghostly tracks disappearing as she erased them with her own—presumably—same-sized
feet.

  An unexpected squeak came from inside the Hatter’s hat. In response to the Dormouse’s warning, the Hatter grabbed Alice and the three of them went tumbling off the side of the road together, rolling and imprinting themselves with the terrible paint as they did.

  Alice was about to indignantly protest this rough treatment and the ruining of her Land of Clubs outfit (which she was really growing to like) until she saw the cards marching down the road toward them.

  But it wasn’t just cards this time; there were all sorts of nasty-looking creatures alongside: angular and spined, tall and scrappy, pustule-covered and bulbous—all wearing shiny ruby-red armor that glittered in the sun. One, in a giant helmet sized for his deformed head, sat on the shoulders of a large sad creature with long hair and short tusks. This ox or yeti pulled a caged cart that was full of toys—and several hapless victims as well, who tried to claw their way out of piles of doll arms and miniature trebuchets and lead soldiers.

  The Hatter put a hand over Alice’s mouth before she could cry out in shock and anger.

  The Dormouse stayed awake long enough to lift up the edge of Hatter’s hat and give a low, sad whistle at the scene.

  One of the rear card guards whipped around, having heard the sound.

  The three friends froze.

  Alice tried very hard not to close her eyes: if death or capture was coming, she would meet it head-on and ready.

  It was difficult.

  A long, long moment passed as the entourage moved on down the road, disappearing, and this one clever card stayed behind, searching back and forth across the road, using his spear to prod the bushes.

  Seconds ticked by.

  The card drew close to where they hid.

  Finally he spat and spun around, marching after the rest of his comrades.

  Alice and the Hatter shuddered in relief—but the Dormouse was already asleep again.

  After recovering for a bit the three continued on—but more carefully now, keeping to the edge of the road and remaining much warier. The way soon split, a smaller road leading off to the right. Of course the fork was marked with signs.

  ORNITHSIVILLE THIS WAY—LOYALISTS ONLY!

  TOYS THAT WAY

  Each sign was stamped with the rabbit symbol, hastily and sloppily, so white ink ran down and mixed with the red paint on the wood. It made a rather pretty shade of pink, if you didn’t pay attention to the meaning.

  “All the way back round again,” the Hatter murmured in wonder.

  “Ornithsiville! Like from the Greek ornitho, meaning bird?” Alice cried. “Is that the village where we first saw everyone so craven and beholden to the White Rabbit?”

  “Yes,” the Hatter sighed, closing his eyes. “It would be madness to go back there, right into the hea—ah, belly of the sycophants and Queen loyalists.”

  “But that is precisely where we should go, to change people’s minds,” Alice pointed out. “If the Queen of Clubs saw that we rallied those cowardly birds, she would be sure to help us!”

  “Of course an Alice would say that sort of thing,” the Hatter muttered.

  But she felt with all her being that this was the right decision, especially since her companion said it was Madness. And that was also what he needed right now, more than anything else. Didn’t he seem to shrink just a smidgen further?

  Also there was the matter of the egg. Nothing in Wonderland made any sense, so perhaps there was no real connection—but it was extremely curious that the Queen of Clubs had chosen to send Alice with an egg, and here she had wound up back in a village of birds.

  “I suppose it could have been alligators,” Alice murmured to herself. “Or crocodiles.”

  There was something different about those eggs, of course; and of course right now she couldn’t remember what it was. Were they soft, unlike chicken eggs, or was it that they were inside out? Gooshy and yellow on the outside? They were opposite of birds’ eggs somehow….

  They took the way to Ornithsiville and followed it assiduously, even when it curled around itself and spat them out only a foot over from where they had entered the roundabout.

  (This was doubly odd because she was sure there had been no solid road into Ornithsiville when they had come through last time; it seemed to be just plopped in the middle of the country, like everything else in Wonderland.)

  In the market a woman was arguing with a man, quietly and furiously, in cheeps and whistles, as he shook a piece of paper at her and raised a Rabbit-stamp threateningly. She had two mewling chicks at her feet. One was mostly human, the other as fuzzy and large-beaked a fledgling as there ever was.

  “Here now, leave her alone,” Alice said, moving forward and making shooing motions with her hands. The bureau-grackle hopped back. “Can’t you see you are upsetting her children?”

  “If the Rabbit knew she was hiding a ball along with some extra fine alfalfa sprouts, he would come for her children, and her, too!”

  “Never mind that; I have an announcement to make that will change everything. Hatter, a hand?”

  She went to climb up on the birdbath, but of course the Hatter paid no attention and just began clapping: enthusiastically at no one and nothing in particular.

  “How droll,” Alice muttered. She was glad to see his Nonsense coming back so strongly, but did it have to be when she needed him? Setting her boot carefully against the marble, she managed to hoist herself up and then balance on the edge with only minimal swaying.

  “Good people of Ornithsiville! May I have your attention, please? Hello? Just a moment of your time, that’s all I ask! Hi! Over by the fountain here! I have an announcement to make!”

  Immediately the birds turned their bright eyes to the plaza center and began to flock toward her. Monocles flashed in the light; top hats were removed so others might see.

  “Oh, another bloody politician. I thought they had migrated already,” a swallow groaned.

  “I heard there is to be punch and pie afterward,” a grouse told him knowingly.

  Someone set up a stand to distribute flyers and buttons; Alice couldn’t make out the insignia or the slogans. Lemonade was served, which caused a bit of a row because there wound up being no pie at all.

  A hundred or more birds were now facing Alice, scratching the ground, preening, and impatiently waiting for her to begin. Although she was high up and out of their immediate reach, she couldn’t help being a little flustered by their sharp eyes and sharper beaks. Not a crowd to stick around in should the mood turn ugly. Some of the cocks had truly formidable spurs.

  “Ladybirds and game, and men,” she called out, “the time of being afraid is over. The time of hiding your toys and paying ridiculous tribute to those in charge is over. The reign of the Queen of Hearts itself is over! If you want it.

  “I come bearing great news: the Queen of Clubs will aid us with her forces and liberate—”

  “…liberate us from cards of the Heart, and return all our toys—yes, we’ve heard all that already,” a pinch-beaked goose squonked.

  Alice blinked in astonishment.

  “And we heard it from a Dodo,” a short, bushy ground owl said with a great burr of an accent. “Much more reliable source than a human girl, I might add.”

  “Hatter!” Alice cried out in delight. “They’ve already been through here, spreading the word! All of our friends!”

  “Didn’t I say they had gone ahead?” he replied a little peevishly. “Back at the train station when you were bullying that poor mantis?”

  “So you’re with me? And against the Queen of Hearts?” Alice called out.

  “We’ve been discussing the notion at our committee meetings. There’s some question of the seriousness of the claim,” a bird yelled back. “Some proof of the Queen of Clubs’ intentions would be helpful. Mostly we’re with the Dodo. And Mary Ann. Some of us, anyway. She is almost as good as a bird. You should hear her sing.”

  “But she’s…” Alice didn’t know what to do. This time it wasn’t eve
n irritation at the constant mention of Mary Ann. The poor girl was dead. Did she dare tell this crowd? Didn’t they know already? Would this dampen their spirits?

  “Mary Ann lives on,” she said, neither telling the truth nor acknowledging the comment. “But you must work to bring about your own salvation. I know it’s been hard having your, ah, toys confiscated, and watching your friends be imprisoned, sometimes tortured, sometimes killed. But no one—no Mary Ann—is going to leap in and save you if you don’t try to save yourselves.

  “Make your rebellion known and the Queen of Clubs will see and bring in her armies. She will fight the Queen of Hearts and win, freeing you all. But she needs to see you want to be liberated. She will not invade to take another queen’s domain without recourse.”

  “Fie on all your queens,” a brant spoke up, bobbing his head and trying not to squonk in the middle of his speech. “But if Mary Ann says we can save ourselves, we will do it. I’ve seen Mary Ann. Plain as that girl up there on the fountain. Actually, that girl looks ever so much like her, in fact. Never seen no Queen of Clubs. But if she speaks for Mary Ann, I know we’re saved.”

  There were murmurs in the crowd, birds nodding and looking toward Alice and commenting on the similarities. Alice’s head spun. They were agreeing to do what she asked only because they thought a dead girl was still alive and asking? Or because Alice somewhat resembled this girl? None of it made any sense. It was all, of course, Nonsense. What was real were treaties and pacts and armies and weapons.

  It took someone from the real world to see that. Someone with real-world perspective.

  “This is ridiculous,” Alice complained down to the Hatter.

  “You still don’t get it, do you?” the Hatter said with a sigh. “This whole plan is ridiculous. It’s not about armies—it’s about you. It’s always been about you, Alice.”

  “Seems like it’s more about Mary Ann,” Alice muttered. But she carefully took the egg out of her pocket and held it up. That caught the crowd’s attention.