Page 16 of Wondrous

No wonder the White Rabbit looks so exhausted, I thought. How many rabbit holes had he burrowed over the years, to open doors for this many Alices?

“Naturally,” the general continued, “not all of them came, and some of the ones who did either died through some misfortune or went mad afterward—not the good kind of mad. You are all the candidates who remain. Now we have come to our hour of need, and we must find out which of you is the prophesied Alice. To reward their courage and daring, the person who slays the dragons will be named the Alice in Wonderland and honored throughout the realm. The rest of you will be returned to your world and the rabbit holes sealed behind you.”

The murmuring was louder this time. “What?” a few of the girls cried while another exclaimed, “All the rabbit holes? Even the one in Central Park?”

“Oh dear,” the Queen of Hearts said, grinning wickedly at us. “I heard several questions just now. That means you forfeit your remaining question. And I’ll have your heads off, you disrespectful brats.”

“Yes, my dear,” the King said over the din, shaking his head disapprovingly. “As soon as they’ve slain the mock dragons. No sense putting the effort in now—the dragons may do it for us, after all.”

The Queen gave a dark chuckle. “True, true!” she said, and even through my dismay, I couldn’t help marveling at the King’s shrewdness. He knew as well as I did that the Queen would forget all about her threat in an hour, if not less.

“Oh, and no growing,” the Queen added, sweeping her glare over all of us in turn—it barely missed me, as I sank down in my seat just in time. “Anyone who tries to defeat the mock dragons by turning themselves into a hideous giant will be banished forthwith.”

I sank even lower. This rule had been added, I was certain, because of me and the scene I had made in the Queen’s courtroom when I was a child. Naturally, the Queen hated the idea of anyone making her feel small, as I had briefly done, but her prohibition was also a practical one, though any practicality on the Queen’s part could only be accidental. I wouldn’t have considered using Wonderland’s enchanted food to fight a dragon, and as a general rule avoided most food that hadn’t been made in the Hare’s house. Mainly because it was entirely unpredictable—even if you bit the correct side of the mushroom (which wasn’t always obvious), the magic often lasted no more than a handful of seconds, which would be long enough to alert a dragon to my presence but likely nothing more than that, which made the magic rather worse than useless.

“Now, my love,” the Queen said, rising and holding her hand out to the King, “let us return to our tournament. I intend to beat you by at least a hundred points this time—just try and stop me!”

The King only sighed in response and allowed the Queen to help him up from his throne, which was amply cushioned, unlike the Queen’s. Though he seemed to spend much of his life in the Queen’s shadow, I had never had the impression that the King was uncomfortable there. Indeed, he seemed to find it a pleasant bit of real estate.

“The Queen has spoken,” the general called. Despite our collective terror of the Queen of Hearts, the muttering and protests had swelled and had an edge of hysteria to them now. “You will all rise and show your respect.”

Somehow, we did—most of us, anyway—and curtsied clumsily as the Queen and King glided from the room. On their way out, I heard the Queen declare that all the Alices who had remained seated—some of whom, it seemed, had only done so because they had fainted—would lose their heads, though I couldn’t make out the King’s murmured reply. The White Rabbit trailed after them, followed by the general, who ignored the questions shouted in her wake, and two soldiers slammed the doors shut behind them.

Chapter 9

I stumbled outside. None of the soldiers moved to stop me—probably they thought I was already charging off after the dragons.

Most of the Alices remained in the hall, and a cacophony of protests, confused shouts, and general agitation followed me through the door. I was relieved when it closed behind me and all I could hear was the rustle of wind in the trees.

I didn’t go far, because I didn’t think my legs would support me for very long. But I managed to find my way to a stone bench in the Queen’s gardens, still visible from the castle but shaded by a red birch tree. Ordinarily the tree was a favorite of mine; there was something charmingly ghoulish about those bone-colored limbs crowned with leaves the color of blood. But I could take no pleasure in it now.

All I wanted was to run into the Tulgey Wood and find my way back to the Hare’s house. But that wouldn’t help me—I would only upset the Hatter and the Hare, and anyway I needed to get to those dragons before the other Alices.

Of course, what did it matter if I got to them first? Was I that desperate to be the first Alice burnt to a crisp? Perhaps I could beg for an audience with the Queen of Hearts. Clearly, the entire premise of the prophecy was ridiculous. And yet I had as much chance of reasoning with the Queen of Hearts as I did slaying a dragon, let alone three.

Round and round my thoughts tumbled, like hedgehogs escaping downhill.

A shuffling sound behind me made me jump, but it was only Alistair, looking about as ashen as I probably did. He gestured to the bench, and I nodded.

“You’re going home, then,” I said as he sat down heavily beside me. “Surely you don’t care if you never see Wonderland again.”

He shook his head, but it seemed more an expression of confusion than an answer. “What if the Queen finds out I’m running away and punishes me? What will she do?” He swallowed. “Will she make me like them?”

“Oh.” A cold, clammy sort of realization settled over me. Now I knew why Alistair was so troubled by the card soldiers. “I—I doubt it. The soldiers are all grown men. I don’t know where they come from.”

He didn’t look reassured. “Nobody knows where they come from. Nobody knows anything about this place, or how it came to be—all these uncanny people and monsters. Well, the Cat might, but he’d never tell.”

“Of course not. He’d have nothing to gloat over and act mysterious about,” I said, hoping the Cat was listening. “Look, the Queen doesn’t need to know you went home. When you don’t return to the castle, she’ll just think one of the dragons did you in. I can tell her that, if you like.”

He nodded slowly. “Yes. I—I suppose that would be best.”

He made no move to stand, though. I studied him, my confusion growing.

“Do you not actually want to leave?” I said. “Even after all those things you said?”

“I want to leave,” he said quickly. Then he rubbed his hands through his hair. “Part of me does, anyway. But when I started seeing the rabbit hole again, I found myself wondering about Nightingale—that was the jubjub bird I rescued when I came here as a boy. Jubjub birds aren’t all bad, you know. She was injured from fighting with her sisters, and I fed her mushroom milk until she was well again. I couldn’t stop wondering if she was still alive, and if she ever learned her scales well enough to sing with the real nightingales—that was always her dream.” A smile played on his mouth. “She was such a terrible singer!”

He sat for a moment, lost in the memory of his long-ago adventure, and then he blinked, seeming to remember I was there. “You don’t seem afraid,” he said. “Are you actually going to go after those mock dragons?”