 
## **Contents**

Title Page

PART ONE Malice in Wonderland Prequel

Chapter 1 The Eighth Square

Chapter 2 The Jabberwock

Chapter 3 The Black Butterfly

Chapter 4 The Red Queen

Chapter 5 Black Rose

Chapter 6 Birthday Party

Chapter 7 Stolen Tarts

Chapter 8 The Knight

Chapter 9 Humpty Dumpty

Chapter 10 Tweedle Twins

Chapter 11 The Witch Doctor

Chapter 12 Mad Hatter

PART TWO Malice in Wonderland #1

Chapter 13 The Thirteen of Hearts

Chapter 14 Unhappy Unbirthday!

Chapter 15 The Cheshire Cat

Chapter 16 Tweedledum and Tweedledee

Chapter 17 Humpty Dumpty

Chapter 18 Malice

Chapter 19 Return to the Tweedles

Chapter 20 The Caterpillar

Chapter 21 What Alice Sees

Chapter 22 A Tea Party

Chapter 23 Shadow

Chapter 24 Malice and the Cat

Chapter 25 The Queen of Hearts

Chapter 26 Alice and Her Shadow

Chapter 27 Jabberwocky

Chapter 28 Showdown

PART THREE Malice in Wonderland #2

Chapter 29 Night Night

Chapter 30 Groundhog Day

Chapter 31 Behind the Eight Ball

Chapter 32 Roly-Poly Vengeance

Chapter 33 Knight Knight

Chapter 34 Humpty Dumpty

Chapter 35 Grave Robbing

Chapter 36 The Caterpillar

Chapter 37 Our Lady of Pain

Chapter 38 Meet The Queen

Chapter 39 The Tweedles

Chapter 40 A Sad Tea Party

Chapter 41 The March Hare

Chapter 42 The Tinkerer

Chapter 43 The Garden of Live Flowers

Chapter 44 Showdown

PART FOUR Malice in Wonderland #3

Chapter 45 Going to the Ball

Chapter 46 The Ball

Chapter 47 What's Beneath the Platter?

Chapter 48 Start

Chapter 49 The Troll's Riddle

Chapter 50 A Grimm Game

Chapter 51 The Groundhog

Chapter 52 She Chooses . . .

Chapter 53 The Flamingo

Chapter 54 The Ticktock Heart

Chapter 55 A Flamingo Analysis

Chapter 56 A Cyber Tea Party

Chapter 57 Russian Roulette

Chapter 58 The Wingless Butterfly

Chapter 59 Humpty Dumpty

Chapter 60 Holding His Heart in Her Hand

Chapter 61 The Tweedles

Chapter 62 Back to Start

Chapter 63 Shadow

Chapter 64 Game Over

Chapter 65 Finale

About the Author

Copyright Page
Books by Lotus Rose

More info at loteyrose.com

The Corruption of Innocence, The Doll Queen, Poniworld Chronicles

Twisted Holiday Specials

SinEaster

Merry XXXmas, Charlee Frown

BlackHearts Day

Gothic Lolita Series

Gothic Lolita

Gothic Lolita 2: Heirloom

Gothic Lolita 3: Pageant

Malice in Wonderland Saga

Malice in Wonderland Prequel

Malice in Wonderland #1: Alice the Assassin

Malice in Wonderland #2: Alice the Angel of Death

Malice In Wonderland #3: Alice the Girl Who Will Tear Your Heart Out and Show It To You Before You Die

Malice Hates Fairy Trilogy

Jabberwocky Trilogy

Dorothy vs. Alice: Crucify the Scarecrow

Faerie Brace-Face Trilogy

Faerie Brace-Face

Revenge of the Faebots

The Return of Mackenzie

PART ONE

Malice in Wonderland Prequel

Chapter 1 The Eighth Square

When Alice was 7

Alice made her way to the Eighth Square. She'd had quite enough of Wonderland for one day, and it was time to go through the Looking Glass back to her own world.

However, there was a problem. Standing there in the grass, in front of the square around the Looking Glass House, was a quite tall monster, with claws and fangs and wings and huge eyes.

"Halt little girl!" the creature commanded.

Alice looked up timidly at the creature. She was trembling all over. "Excuse me, I'm Alice and I would like to go to the Looking Glass and go through it. I don't belong here, you see, and I must be getting home."

"Yes Alice, I was told you'd be coming. I'm the Jabberwock, and I am guarding the Looking Glass House. None may enter it, unless the Queen of Hearts allows it. And she specifically told me not to allow you to."

"But, but, I must return home! They'll be missing me."

"That is unfortunate, but the Queen will not allow it."

Alice burst into tears. "Why not?!"

He pointed a clawed finger at her eyes. "That's why. The Queen has learned of the magical properties of your tears. She would like you to pay visits to her and cry upon her face, at Her Majesty's convenience."

"What?"

"Yes, and there are others who require your tears as well. You are to make daily rounds, visiting each person or creature. Those are to be your new duties. When you are not performing them, you shall be kept chained to your desk in your own hut."

Alice couldn't believe what she was hearing. "No! She can't do that! It's a crime and she shall surely be punished! Now I say, to avoid any trouble, I shall pass. Forget all that silliness you spoke of."

The monstrous face of the Jabberwock took on a mournful expression. "I'm afraid not, Miss Alice. I must obey the Queen's orders."

Alice's lower lip wobbled. "But when can I go home?"

"I'm afraid Wonderland is your home now, dear Alice, unless the Queen changes her mind, and even so, she's more likely to have you beheaded than to let you go back."

Alice formed her hands into tight fists at her side. "No! She can't do that! I am a citizen of England. I shan't be kept here!" She made a break for it, running toward the Looking Glass House.

She had only taken three steps when she felt herself forcefully pulled back. The Jabberwock had caught her in his claws, lifted her up, and now cradled her in his arms as if she were a mere baby, rather than a girl of 7!

"Release me this instant you brute!"

"I shan't do that. You must return to the hut they have made for you." He sounded a little sad.

"No!" She slapped at his arms. She felt the rage she usually tried to hold back surge through her. "I'll kill you, Jabberwock! Snicker-snack!"

"Ah, that's a reference to that horrid poem. But it's about my father, not me."

Alice squirmed with fury within his arms. "With his head, he went galumphing back!"

"Yes, the poem is a lie, you must know..."

Alice righted herself in the Jabberwock's cradling arms. She lunged for his face. "I'll kill you!" But the Jabberwock held her off, holding his hand around her midsection. Alice struggled and kicked and clawed. "I shall tear out your eyes and eat them!"

The Jabberwock chuckled. "I like girls with a little fire. But I'm afraid you are no match for me."

"I will behead you like the poem! Do not sleep, for my vengeance shall rain upon you like hellfire! I am death! I will come for you, be certain of that!"

The Jabberwock chuckled. "Do you have a vorpal blade? It is the only weapon that can easily cut the flesh of a Jabberwock."

"I will get one, and then I shall... I shall..." She suddenly broke into sobs again. "Oh I'm sorry, Jabberwock. I let my anger get the best of me. You are only doing your job."

"Oh that's quite all right. I can understand the desire to go home. I often wish I could do so myself."

She stopped struggling. "And why don't you?"

"I have been banished from my tribe because I foolishly lost my vorpal blade, and also I am indebted to the Queen."

"Ah, so she controls your fate, much as she seems to have taken control of mine." She sighed.

He sighed too. "Yes, my dear. We are similar in that respect."

"I am so so sorry if I hurt your feelings. I don't know what came over me. Sometimes I get these bad thoughts."

"Well, it is quite understandable young miss. I would probably act the same if I were in your shoes."

"They say I have two of them. Goody ones."

"Pardon?"

"They say I have goody two-shoes."

"Oh, so you've attained them?"

"Huh?"

"The Goody Two-Shoes of Legend."

"I don't know what you speak of."

"Never mind, luv. Ah, there is your escort now." He pointed with his chin.

Alice looked to see one of the Queen of Heart's guard cards approaching. He looked like a human-sized card holding a spear, with legs and arms and a flattish sort of head.

"I will take her now!" the card called out.

The Jabberwock said, "You must go with him. He shall take you to your hut, where you shall await your orders." He set her gently upon the ground, then patted her head.

Alice sighed. She lowered her head and walked toward the awaiting guard card.

She turned toward the Jabberwock. "Be well, Jabberwock. I'm sorry about what I said."

"Think nothing of it." Then he looked away.

And Alice walked toward the guard card and the fate that awaited her.

Chapter 2 The Jabberwock

When Alice was 12

The Jabberwock burst through the door of the small hut, causing it to swing and bang against the wall as it jolted open.

The guard card wasn't there. Alice was there, as he expected her to be at this time of day. Her eyes met his. As she read the sheer panic within them, she momentarily forgot herself and her arm was jerked back against the chain confining her to her desk, and she grunted.

At long last, after having dragged the girl's corpse all that way, the Jabberwock felt a little hope.

For there stands Alice, he thought, the teary-eyed savior.

But oh, she does not realize the great power her tiny tears hold.

...And I am forbidden to tell her.

Alice's eyes shifted to the body in his clawed hand. Her eyes widened as she took in all that red—it filled the small hut with its scent. "What happened?!" she shrieked. "Did you kill her?!"

He was dragging the little girl's corpse into the room, being careful not to be too rough. He regretted he couldn't carry her, but his right arm had been severely damaged during the fight. He said, "I didn't have a choice. She attacked me." He shook his head. "Honour dictated." He dragged the body to the desk.

He let go of Laricia's arm.

He felt feeble in front of young Alice, for she held the only chance of fixing this, in those eyes. "Please, you must try to..." He'd almost said "revive", but the Queen of Hearts had given strict orders that Alice mustn't be informed of the power of her tears. He floundered a moment for another word. "...help her," he stammered.

She shrank away from the body before she composed herself. "Help? How can I help? I'm not a doctor! Why didn't you go to the Queen?"

And he searched his mind for a deception of some sort—he couldn't tell her that if she cried on the dead girl it just might bring her back to life. He had to come up with a lie.

The girl had approached him, holding the trombone case, with a huge smile on her face.

The Jabberwock was at his post, guarding the Eighth Square, sitting in the grass, as usual. He usually only left to attend Alice's unbirthday parties every day.

"Jabberwock!" she shouted.

She was a girl of about 10, wearing a tunic and trousers. The girl's blond hair reminded him of how Alice's used to look before she started wearing it black.

He stood rigidly and crinkled his clawed fingers. The girl didn't look dangerous, but one could never be quite sure. The Looking Glass House in the square was, of course, where the Looking Glass was, and sometimes people or creatures tried to pass through it into the outside world, although as far as anyone knew, only Alice herself could actually do so.

The girl waved with a huge smile on her face and the Jabberwock cautiously waved back.

As she approached, the girl called out, "I am a musician! I wish to play for you!"

"Oh? What is your name girl? And why do you want to play for me?"

The girl was standing in front of him now. "Why, to thank you for all your good service. I apologize for putting you on the spot. I do so love to play for an audience. I practice my trombone constantly. I'm not the greatest, but I'm improving." She looked down shyly. "I look forward to someday maybe being good enough to knock 'em dead, with my music, so to speak. And...we are connected through a common acquaintance. I wanted to meet you in person." She looked up and met his eyes again.

He peered at her. Something about her was unsettling him—her smile was wide, but something was off. "You do look vaguely familiar, but I can't remember exactly how. I apologize. What is your name? You said we had a common acquaintance?"

"Yes, and no need to apologize. I'm sure us humans must all look the same to you, anyway." And she gave him a playful smirk.

He grinned back, while trying to maintain his cool. "Oh no no," he said. "For even though I'm a jabberwock, I can tell you're a prettier human than most."

The fact was that human girls weren't pretty to him and seeing one only brought back memories of his mother singing to him "little-girl's-goodbyes" to lull him to sleep with the soothing lyrics of dismembering little girls. Alice was also a little girl he wanted to dismember, but it was forbidden to kill her...but this girl... But he quickly banished the thought from his mind, for it would be dishonourable to attack without being provoked.

The girl was reacting to his compliment, saying, "Awww, that's so sweet! Well I'll tell you who our common acquaintance—hey wait! I just noticed something! How come you don't have a vorpal blade? Aren't all you jabberwock guys supposed to carry one?"

His shoulders slumped. "Yes, well the vorpal blade that was to be passed on to me was stolen."

"Stolen? Oh my! Did you ever find out who took it?"

"Yes I did. And I killed him, but I was unable to recover the sword."

"Oh wow! You killed him! But he was a human. Humans can usually only fight a jabberwock with a vorpal blade. It's the only material able to pierce their hide, right?"

He nodded. "Yes, but we didn't battle because I found out he had used deception to gain the sword, and he killed my father dishonourably as well." Something nagged at his mind. "Wait, did I ever tell you he was a human?" he asked, referring to the man who'd killed his father.

Her smile lessened. "Do you have any idea where your father's vorpal blade might be?" She kneeled beside the case.

"Wait, you're not telling me..." He watched her trembling fingers unlatch the case. She brought out the sword and took it in her hand, held it beside her face as she fixed him with a mockingly sweet smile.

"I recognize it," he said quietly.

Her voice took on a sinister tone. "Yes, this is your father's sword right here. You see, that man who slayed your father, who you then cowardly killed in cold blood when he was unarmed—that man was my father. My name is Laricia, daughter of Herbert the Jabberwock Slayer. I have been training for years with this vorpal blade and I am here to avenge my father. Prepare to die."

The Jabberwock's eyes pinged side to side as his mind desperately searched for a lie. He had to tug at Alice's heartstrings somehow, and immediately. Ah, he knew something guaranteed to make the waterworks flow: "She said she had to see you, even if it was her last act. Alice, she is your sister..."

Her chain clattered as she jerked, then her eyes were desperately roving the dead girl's face. "But she is the wrong age! She's not my older sister, for sure, but she's too old to be my younger sister."

She looked to the Jabberwock with pleading, desperate eyes that were already growing moist.

Excellent, he thought. Now I need only push her...and those tears...over the edge. It shouldn't be too hard—the girl is so pathetically gullible.

He said, "Yes, well the flow of time works differently between this world and the outside. Perhaps she's not completely gone and can yet be saved. Perhaps if you spoke to her, she might still hear?"

"Sister?" she said it as a whisper and her whole body was shaking. "My little sis?" She looked down at the corpse's face. "Why, the last time I saw her...saw you, she was just a baby. I don't even recognize her...I mean you. Sister, can you hear me? Oh, my little sis! Please say you're okay!" She awkwardly caressed the corpse's bloody cheek with her unchained hand, and here it happened. Alice burst into tears!

A huge grin stretched the Jabberwock's face before he remembered himself and struggled to suppress it.

She was sobbing and hyperventilating. "Please, my little sis! You can't be dead! Can you hear me?! Talk to me!" she shrieked. Many of her tears dropped into the red blood, mixing into pinkened dribbles.

Alice in her misery pressed her face down against the corpse's, their noses pressed together while she held her chained arm out to the side. "Please! Did you come here to meet me?! Well, then speak! As your big sister, I demand it!"

I mustn't let her know the power of her tears. He began to move toward the body.

Alice rose up on her knees. "Quit acting! Wake up. I command you!"

The Jabberwock gently clasped the dead girl's wrist. "I'm sorry. It's too late. She's gone." He began pulling the body away.

"No, don't take her!" Alice shouted in her anguish. "Where are you taking her?!"

And the Jabberwock felt that pesky emotion of guilt come over him again. He felt burdened by the things he couldn't tell her. He gave her his lame excuse—"I'm sorry, but it's too late. It's not good for her to stay here. I must take her away."

He looked to the corpse's face for any sign of movement, the chest for any rising. If her eyes opened before he dragged her out of the room, it would be a disaster, because the Queen would surely have his head for letting Alice find out the power of her tears.

Alice strained at her chain like a rabid dog. "No, you can't take her! I must say my goodbye! She must have a funeral!"

But the Jabberwock didn't reply or meet her eyes, merely kept dragging that body. As he pulled it through the door, Alice screeched, "Where are you taking her?! No!"

He pulled the body away from the hut and into a nearby forest. None of the windows of the hut faced this direction, so Alice wouldn't be able to see any of this.

Partway into the forest, it began to happen. He felt the pulse begin in her wrist. Then she took a few shallow breaths.

He dropped her wrist. He'd carried her far enough.

From the girl's pocket, he brought out the scrawny human-sized quill pen and notepad he'd stolen from Alice's desk and began writing his note—he had no ink, so he used blood.

He saw her eyelids begin to flutter, and felt relief. Here was the secret revealing itself—Alice's tears could revive the dead.

The girl named Laricia swayed the vorpal sword back and forth.

He raised his hands. "Please, there was no wrong in the way I killed your father. You don't know all the circumstances." And in fact he deserved to die like a dog, he wanted to add.

"I know all I need to know. You killed him in cold blood when he wasn't even armed."

She swung at him and the blade swooshed through the air. He had to jerk backward to avoid being hit.

He said, "Please, according to the rules of honour, I was obligated to avenge my father in that manner." He couldn't understand why he didn't want to fight her. Shouldn't he be happy for the opportunity?

She swung again and he just barely avoided being hit. "By striking down an unarmed human?!" she snarled.

"Yes, because he stole the vorpal blade by dishonest means."

She unleashed a savage flurry of attacks. It took extreme effort and luck to avoid her blows—she was highly skilled.

"I heard of the coin toss!" she said while she paused to catch her breath. The blade lowered slightly in her hands. "He won this sword that way, fair and square!" She raised her sword back up.

He shook his head. "No, he cheated. He used a double-headed coin."

"Liar!" she shouted, then began attacking again.

He wasn't entirely successful avoiding the swings this time—one blow stuck hard against his right arm, cutting deep, rendering it useless.

The blood ran down his arm as they stood staring at each other. "It's true. And he killed my father dishonourably, when his eyes were closed."

"What kind of idiot closes his eyes on an armed foe?"

"It was when my father handed the sword over to him. My father was bound by my dishonourable bet. I had lost the coin toss, and so he was obligated to honour the terms—he handed over the sword, but he was so overwhelmed with sorrow and shame, that he lowered his head and closed his eyes. While he was lost in his shame at my behavior, your father took advantage and beheaded him."

Her stance wavered. "No, he killed him in a great battle."

The Jabberwock huffed. "Because he said so? Because they made a poem about it that said it was so? But I was there. I saw it with my own eyes."

She made a half-hearted jab that he easily dodged. "I should believe a filthy lying jabberwock? If you saw it, why didn't you stop it?"

"I was chained to a pole because I couldn't be trusted to watch without doing anything. I was very impulsive in those days."

She stood watching him, her face showed confusion as she tried to process her thoughts. She smirked. "So you watched your father lose the fight, watched him get beheaded?" She gave another half-hearted swing at him that he dodged, but then he stumbled—his arm was still bleeding profusely and he felt dizzy from the blood loss.

He said, "They didn't fight. I guess your father went back to his village and said he fought a heroic battle, which is why they wrote that poem about him."

"My father wouldn't do that. You're the liar."

No, everything the Jabberwock said was true, but could he convince her?

"Please believe me—it's why I killed him the way I did, because he dishonourably murdered my father, and he cheated in order to attain the vorpal blade."

"Ha! Cheated how?"

"When he made the bet with me."

"Yes, tell me more about the bet." She took a step back, momentarily halting the battle. "I don't know much about it."

So the Jabberwock began to tell the tale, despite how ashamed he was of it. "Back then, as I said, I was impulsive. I had a gambling...problem that he took advantage of. He had a coin with his own portrait on it. He said if he flipped it and it landed on heads, he'd win the vorpal blade, which still belonged to my father, but I was almost to the age when he would give it to me."

"Oh, what was your prize?" she asked still holding her sword up, but it looked as if it was growing heavy in her arms despite how light vorpal blades were.

"Hmmm?"

"I've never known what you might have won in the coin toss..."

"Oh, a magical lute that could be played without having to practice on it."

"Okay, so you wanted to be a musician without having to work for it and he took advantage of your gambling problem, and you lost your bet. So what?"

"He cheated."

"According to you."

"I have proof."

She looked on blankly and lowered the sword tip onto the ground, resting her arms. "What proof?"

"I still have the coin."

"Ha! You have a coin. So what?"

"I'll bring out the coin." He slowly bent toward a chest on the ground and she tensed. "Don't worry. Let's say that we are on a temporary truce, okay? It would be dishonourable for me to attack you now. Jabberwock's honour, I just want to get the coin."

"Yes, you jabberwocks and your honour." She rolled her eyes, but she kept her arms down in an undefended position.

After some rummaging, he brought out the coin—it was a novelty coin, with the head of Herbert the so-called Jabberwock Slayer etched in it and it even had a date, of five years earlier, the year that it had all occurred.

He offered to toss it to her, but she shook her head, so all he could do was explain, once more telling the truth. "I'll tell you how I got it. See, after he beheaded my father, he walked up to me. I wanted to attack him right then, but the chains prevented me. He brought out this coin. He said he would flip it and if it landed on tails, he would cut the chains and we would have an honourable battle."

"And if it landed heads?"

"He would leave me there."

"That's ridiculous. Why would anyone make such a wager?"

"You'll see... He told me it was the same coin he'd used when he won the sword. He flipped it and it came up heads. He left the coin on the ground to mock me, then with my father's head, he went galumphing back."

"Did you ever escape?" she said with a sneer.

"Yes, I was found a few hours later and freed. And that's when I picked up the coin and discovered he had cheated."

"Oh?" she said with a smirk, but she seemed less certain now.

"Yes, because the coin is double-headed. He cheated to gain that sword you hold."

"I don't believe you."

"It is the truth. I swear to it."

"Toss it to the ground here." She pointed down with the sword and he tossed it down.

She bent to look at it. "It is my father's face, and that year, is the year of his death." She flipped the coin over with the tip of her sword. "No, no, this is a fake."

"Why would I go through the trouble of that? No, it is the coin he used. That's why, according to our code, he did not deserve an honourable death. I hunted him down and killed him, though he was unarmed, but I was unable to recover my vorpal blade. He didn't have it upon his person."

She chuckled morosely. "That's because he had it stored away. I, as his only child, inherited it. I have been training all these years, studying the art of sword wielding, studying the ways of you...jabberwocks...and your code of honour."

The Jabberwock didn't like the sound of where this was going. "Please, I believe you are an honourable warrior seeking to preserve the reputation of your father. But all I have told you is the truth. You have fulfilled your duties as a daughter. Let us go our separate ways."

"And what about the sword?"

"I respectfully ask that you return it to me, its rightful owner, for it was stolen from me by trickery."

"Well it seems we have a bit of a problem. Are you willing to let me walk out of here, taking your precious vorpal blade with me?"

For several moments, the Jabberwock thought upon it. He sighed. "If you choose to. I tell you again, all I've said has been true, and I'd like you to return my blade to me, but I respect your decision, and I truly don't wish to fight you. I...respect you." The Jabberwock was surprised himself to hear himself say that.

"Ha! So you are both a liar and a coward!"

"I did not lie."

"Well I admit, maybe I don't know the whole story, and perhaps my father wasn't perfect. But he was my father, and you took him from me. The blood debt must be repayed."

"I will not fight you. What can I do—"

"Oh shut up, won't you?! We will do battle, because I have been studying your jabberwock code. And I invoke my right of child's retribution. You killed my father so I challenge you to duel to the death."

The Jabberwock tried to hide his surprise that a human would know the ways of the jabberwock code. He tried not to be patronizing as he said, "Do you realize what you're saying?"

She met his eyes with a cold intense stare. "Yes, the debt shall not be settled until one of us is dead." She raised her sword—it was her sword for now, but if he defeated her, it would become his—and she said, "Prepare to die."

She charged toward him with a yell and swung at his leg.

The Jabberwock no longer had a choice. He was now bound by the code to fight her to the death. He could no longer show her any mercy.

They squared off. The girl swung again, lightly cutting his left arm. She was highly skilled—a worthy opponent, especially with the vorpal blade, comprised of a charmed metal that easily sliced jabberwock flesh.

But she was growing fatigued. The vorpal blade wasn't very heavy but she was just a little girl...

He feinted to her right. When she moved her blade to parry the blow, he moved inside and slashed her arm to the bone, severing tendons and rendering her left hand useless. As she struggled to readjust to a one-handed grip, he smacked the blade out of her hand.

She met his gaze with a wide-eyed look of terror.

Then with a twinge of sorrow, he impaled her with his claws and drew upward. Her torso became drenched in red.

He withdraw his claws, and watched her, wary of any desperate last attack she might launch.

She began to cough up blood. A look of confusion came over her face, then she looked down at her mangled body.

Then she collapsed and was still.

And the Jabberwock became filled with guilt. He didn't know why he felt that way, but it was overwhelming.

"Oh god," he mumbled, then launched into action. He had to act fast. He felt for her pulse—there was none, and she wasn't breathing. They had fought to the death, honourably, and the blood debt had been settled, so she was no longer his enemy.

In a panic he tried to lift her, but his injured arm was still useless. "Oh god oh god."

He began dragging the girl along the ground, toward Alice's hut.

Laricia, daughter of Herbert the Jabberwock Slayer, opened her eyes, thinking she was awakening from her nightly sleep.

Then she grew confused—it was bright and warm here, the middle of the day.

She looked around and saw trees. She was in a forest, lying on a curious substance. She felt with her hands and realized she was lying on leaves.

Then she remembered she'd fought the Jabberwock and lost. She took in a sharp gasp of breath and felt the panic surge within her.

She felt dizzy. She touched her belly and when she pulled her hand away, her fingertips came away coated in blood.

She sat up.

"I should be dead," she muttered to herself. She looked at something lying on the ground.

It was a notepad with a message written upon it—she saw the feather quill pen a short distance away, the tip of it pointing out from the leaves.

She had a hard time reaching the notepad without falling over—she was still tipsy.

She had trouble focusing her eyes—the words were written in blood, she now saw.

Written on the paper were these words: "You fulfilled your duty, for you gave your life defending his honour. Let us not fight anymore."

She grunted in disgust, and looked around for the vorpal sword. Of course the disgusting beast had taken it. She screamed and tore the note in half, then she shouted at the top of her lungs, hoping he was still close enough to hear: "One day, Jabberwock!...I will come for you!"

Her voice echoed throughout the forest.

A short distance away, the Jabberwock heard her—heard that hatred in her voice and stopped in his tracks. He lowered his head, staring at the ground, then continued walking toward his post outside the Eighth Square.

Alice heard the voice of a young girl and raised her head. She stared out the window for a long time, remembering her little sister, who she hadn't last seen alive since she was still a baby.

Chapter 3 The Black Butterfly

When Alice was 7

Alice was going about her daily rounds. The next stop was a visit to the Caterpillar.

He liked to sit atop his mushroom with a hookah and smoke various spices. He liked to try numerous and new varieties, which he often tested on Alice first. Sometimes the spices were fun and sometimes they were horrifying or made her sick.

Since the Caterpillar was an ordinary-sized insect, she had to shrink down to his size to interact with him. That's why she carried a piece of his mushroom. It had magical properties so that it could shrink or enlarge Alice.

On that particular day, as she looked down, she could see that the Caterpillar had a visitor—a black butterfly who was resting on the ground in front of him. They seemed to be talking, but as large as Alice was, their voices just sounded like tiny insect murmurs that she couldn't make out.

She nibbled on the mushroom piece, then began to shrink.

She was behind the Caterpillar and he didn't even seem to notice her presence.

The Black Butterfly noticed Alice but didn't acknowledge her. There were a couple of peculiar things about the butterfly. She seemed to be wearing two tiny shoes upon two of her legs—they looked like Mary Janes. And the butterfly seemed to be glowing with a kind of aura...of goody goodiness.

"Ahahah!" said the Black Butterfly. "Look at you, still sitting up there like a grub on a log. Still too afraid to metamorphosize?"

"Quit bullying me! I've already told you I'm not afraid! I just like being a caterpillar."

"No, you're just too scared of growing up! All the other caterpillars from our egg batch have gone on to be butterflies. Except you. What's wrong with you, that your progress is so...delayed? Hmm? Maybe you're too dumb to figure it out."

"I'll transform someday, when I feel like it. What does it matter to you? None of the other butterflies give me a hard time about it."

"Awah. I'm just trying to help you not be such a loser. They all talk behind your back, but I'm the only one nice enough to say it to your face."

"No, you're just a vicious harlot. With wings of black."

"Yes, I definitely stand apart. I'm not ordinary, like all the others." She sneered.

Alice continued watching silently, not knowing what to make of it all. She couldn't understand the goody aura around the butterfly, since she didn't seem so very goody at all. The Caterpillar still hadn't noticed her standing behind him.

"One day," the Caterpillar said, in a whiny voice, "the other butterflies will banish you just like they banished the black rose that transformed you."

She chuckled. "Pish posh. I am more powerful, and much more vicious than any of them will ever be. They are too afraid to ever do anything against me. But even as pathetic as they all are, they are still above you, you lowly grub!"

The Caterpillar drew back and whimpered. Alice felt sorry for him, and for a moment thought about stepping in and saying something, but then she thought that might be too humiliating for him. The Black Butterfly winked at her—she seemed to be putting on a cruel show for Alice's benefit.

The Black Butterfly cackled. "Well, I have other things to do than stare at you, pathetic grub. So I just dropped by to hear you say it before I go back to my tree. So are you pathetic?"

The Caterpillar didn't respond.

"Say it! Or I'll beat you up and take whatever stupid spices you're smoking!"

"I'm pathetic," the Caterpillar muttered.

Alice watched on with her eyes brimming with tears of rage. How dare that Black Butterfly be so mean to my Caterpillar!

The Black Butterfly cackled loudly then took flight, swooshing through the air and fluttering briefly over the Caterpillar's head, where she stroked against his face with some of her legs.

"Ow! Stop it!" he whined.

"I'll see you later, grub," the Black Butterfly mocked, then flew off. As she passed over, she gave Alice a vicious smile, then she was gone.

"Oh why won't she just leave me alone!?" the Caterpillar called out.

Alice had never seen the Caterpillar like this, so vulnerable. She knew that he could be mean sometimes, but now she had a better understanding as to the reason why. Maybe he only picked on others because he himself had been picked on so much. She felt sorry for him, and she yearned to go to him and comfort him, but still, she thought it might be best to respect his dignity. She didn't want him to feel ashamed.

And so she quietly backed away to a distance where he couldn't see her, then enlarged herself once again.

She was furious. Alice was determined to go have a "discussion" with her. The Black Butterfly needed to learn that it was really mean to pick on others like that! Why, how would she like it if she was being picked on?

Alice looked in the direction the butterfly had flown. She was surprised that she could see a glowing kind of trail floating in the air. It was the goody goody energy that she was sensing, she realized, leaving a trail like a scent for a bloodhound. She giggled at that thought.

And so, like a bloodhound on a trail, she followed it, not knowing what would happen when she got there, but she felt like more than a match for a little butterfly. Why, she could rip off her stupid wings if she wanted. But no, that would be mean. It wouldn't solve anything. Maybe she could reason with the Black Butterfly—explain how she had hurt the Caterpillar's feelings...

And so she followed the glowing trail and soon it led her to a tree and a little nook inside the tree.

She knew she should perhaps be more cautious, but she was still absolutely furious at the Butterfly for treating her friend, the Caterpillar, like that—okay, so maybe he wasn't exactly her friend—he was more like her tormentor, but he was her tormentor, and she was possessive.

She grabbed a hold of the tree trunk and clasped on, then she ate a bit of the mushroom to shrink herself. She began to shrink in comparison to the tree and scrambled to keep a grip upon the bark. She managed a fair job of it. She stopped shrinking, holding onto the tree just below the nook entrance.

She hooked her hands onto the edge, then kicked up and hooked her foot and pulled herself up and over.

She peered at what was inside.

It was a cozy little abode indeed. The inside reminded Alice of a cave. She saw the Black Butterfly standing in the nook, asleep. Behind her were two most-peculiar objects—they were two human-sized Mary Jane shoes that looked quite enormous compared to the Butterfly. The two shoes glowed with that same "goody" energy Alice had seen before, but the glow was very strong emanating from the shoes, and she deduced that that is perhaps where the "goody" energy had originated from.

She paused for a moment, steeling herself for what she would have to do next, because she wasn't normally a very mean person, but this butterfly had been bullying the Caterpillar. So the Butterfly had to be taught a lesson, and unfortunately that might mean being a little cruel, but it was for a good cause against a mean insect, she told herself, which justified it somewhat.

Her black dress contained many secret pockets capable of holding much more than seemed possible.

She reached into her pocket and crept silently as a cat up to the sleeping Black Butterfly.

She pulled out the little baggy of spice that she had secretly stolen when the Caterpillar wasn't looking. She didn't feel all that bad about stealing it, since the Caterpillar had judged the spice to be inferior and had essentially thrown it away.

It was the Spice of Paralyzing Terror and Nightmares.

Alice knew firsthand its effects, because the Caterpillar had tested it on her.

Alice stepped up to the dozing Butterfly. She reared back and smacked the insect across the face, hard!

The Black Butterfly startled awake! "What?" her wild, bug eyes, struggled to focus on Alice as she poured the powdered spice into her hand, then she leaned forward and blew a cloud of spice into the bug's face.

The paralysis it caused was instant. It caused all body movements and functions to freeze except for things like blinking, breathing, and curiously, talking.

If the same thing happened as happened to Alice herself, the waking nightmares would soon be coming on. That was what had happened to Alice the three times the Caterpillar had tested it on her. It had been torturous, but informative.

The Black Butterfly was twerking her mouth, testing her ability to move it. "You! You were standing behind the Caterpillar! His guinea pig," she said with a sneer.

Alice clucked. "Maybe I am, but the thing is, the Caterpillar may be a bit mean at times, but he is my Caterpillar, and I don't appreciate insects who mistreat him." She glared.

The Black Butterfly eerily screamed in terror—it was eery because only her mouth moved.

Alice assumed that the Butterfly had begun hallucinating.

It was Alice's plan to terrorize her into never bullying the Caterpillar again.

But first, she was curious. By her estimation, the drug would last ten minutes, so she still had some time. She nudged with her chin behind the Butterfly.

"What are those shoes?" Alice asked.

"Bug off." She sneered.

Alice stuck her fingers to the edges of her mouth and pulled her mouth wide while making glicky noises with her flapping tongue and rolling her eyes about.

The Butterfly shrieked. "You're a demon!"

Alice could only imagine what she was hallucinating, but it must've been horrific.

"Grrr," Alice said through her stretched mouth. "I am the demon spawn from hell, here to avenge the girl you stole the shoes from."

The Butterfly was blubbering. "I didn't steal them. Her stepsisters did."

"Whose stepsisters?"

"You don't know?"

"Tell me, or I'll make the face again!"

"Ack! Okay, they're Cinderella's shoes. Before she got the slippers, she wore the goody two-shoes, but she left them behind. Her stepsisters hid them away in this tree, because they hated her. I would've done the same."

Alice peered at those shoes, wondering why they seemed to glow with a magical aura that had apparently transferred to the Butterfly.

Alice said, "And what magic do these goody-shoes possess?"

"What are you, dense? Everybody knows what goody two-shoes do. They make the one wearing them follow the rules and perform good deeds and always do the right thing, and bleh, they're quite disgusting, really."

"Then what do you want with them?" She sneered. "Are you guarding them?"

"I wish I could quit them, but ever since I discovered them here in this tree, it's like I'm addicted to them. I long to wear them, even though they are quite oversized and I don't really want to be a goody-goody girl. I guess I'm lucky I can't actually wear them, but I...I like to rub up against them."

"Ah, so that would explain why you wear those ridiculous little insect shoes that you do."

"Don't mock me. I think they're cute."

"But you know what's not cute?!" She got up in the Black Butterfly's face. "Bullying my friend!" Alice performed a trick she had learned wherein she rolled her eyeballs upwards so that her eyes seemed to have turned completely white.

The Butterfly shrieked, but then she protested, "But he's a loser. He's afraid to grow up."

"That is not your concern!" She thumped the Butterfly hard in the forehead with a flick of her finger.

"Ow! That hurt!"

Alice wanted to use the hallucinations to bring up terror in the Butterfly's mind whenever she even thought of bullying the Caterpillar. "Listen up, you wench! From now on, you're gonna leave the Caterpillar alone, got it? For I am a demon, I am Satan incarnate, I shall hunt you down and defile you!" Alice didn't actually understand what any of those words meant, but she'd read a story once where they were used to great effect.

"But he's a loser," she muttered, her voice trembling with fright.

"I don't care! He's my friend! And from now on, you stay far away from him! You don't speak to him, you don't look at him, you got it?!"

"Okay, okay," she whimpered.

"And if you do, I'll cut you...and...I'll tear your soul apart!" She made guttural demonic noises while sticking two fingers up behind her head like devil's horns. "Blehhhahaha I am a demon from hell... Leave him alone! Got it?!"

"Ye-yes... I shall never even talk to him again! Please don't tear my soul apart," she whimpered.

Alice knew the spice would be wearing off soon. She looked longingly at the Mary Janes behind the Black Butterfly. "Do you mind if I take the goody two-shoes? They don't fit you anyway."

"Mind? Heck no! Please take them! They have a hold on me, a magical hold, that causes me to obsess over them! Oh, it shall be a good day if you take them away. Let their goody goody power infest you."

Alice arched a brow. "You don't like goody goodiness?"

"Absolutely not. So if you want them, please take them."

"Thank you. I shall."

It was a bit tricky getting the shoes out of the tree nook. She had to nibble just a tiny bit of mushroom to grow a little bit so she could pick the shoes up and toss them out to the ground below. She scurried out of the nook, then nibbled some more to grow even larger, then climbed down the tree.

The shoes were adult-sized, whereas she was only 7, so she used a little trick to make the shoes fit—she nibbled enough mushroom to make herself slightly large than usual, so the shoes would fit, then she put them on and shrunk herself to normal sized again. The shoes shrunk along with her.

Voila! Now she had two goody two-shoes to wear.

She looked forward to following rules and being a right and proper little girl who always did the appropriate thing. The shoes glowed bright for a while then their glow disappeared, but she could still feel their magical goody energy going up her through her toesies.

She caught the Black Butterfly cautiously peeking out the nook. Alice scowled and used two fingers to point at her own eyes, then the Butterfly's.

She left her old shoes behind, then in order to break in her new goody two-shoes, she skipped all the way to the Caterpillar's mushroom.

"You're late!" boomed the Caterpillar after she had shrunk down to his size.

She couldn't stop smiling. "I'm sorry. I had a matter to attend to."

"What are you grinning about?"

Alice began climbing up the mushroom.

The Caterpillar said, "I've got a bunch of new spices I'd like to try on you."

Alice was next to him now. She admired the scowl on his face. This was her Caterpillar, and he wouldn't be bullied anymore.

"Why are you looking at me like that, silly girl?"

"I'm just glad that you're you!" She wrapped her arms around him and planted a big kiss on his cheek.

He squirmed. "Ugh! Get off of me! We've got to test these spices."

So Alice let go of him and stared at him with a big dopey grin until he asked her to stop.

Chapter 4 The Red Queen

When Alice was 10

The Red Queen hovered in the air inside the small dungeon room. As usual, her legs were racing back and forth as she ran, but she remained in the same place. She'd supposedly been "captured" by the Tweedle twins, but the fact of the matter was that she herself had called out to them, asking them to take her to the Queen of Heart's dungeons.

The Queen of Hearts was about to visit, she'd been told. There was a knock upon the iron door, then the Queen of Hearts voice announcing her own presence: "Her Highness is coming in." The door opened and there was the Queen of Hearts, with an unreadable expression upon her face.

The Red Queen called, "Welcome, Your Highness, to my humble abode. I'm afraid I can't speak long, as I've got to go somewhere." Then suddenly remembering, the Red Queen said, "Sorry, force of habit."

"Yes," said the Queen of Hearts as she stepped into the room. She left the door open. There were guard cards stationed outside. But the Red Queen had little to fear, because after all, she had chosen to be imprisoned.

The Queen of Hearts looked pointedly at the stone walls of the small cell. "I daresay, if you get to going where your legs seem to want, you shall run right smack into that wall."

"True. Even so, I quite enjoy focusing upon my running, despite what folly it might seem to you."

The Queen of Hearts said, "Well I thought it would be remiss of me not to at least welcome you to my dungeon. I know we have not always been on the best of terms."

"Yes. We were mortal enemies, but those days are no longer. Now I wish solely to focus upon my running. You may go about the business of your running, running the kingdom that is."

A wicked grin formed on the Queen of Heart's face. "So you relinquish your crown?"

"I concede to your authority. You may go ahead and be the Queen of all of Wonderland. It's all quite a bother, anyway."

The Queen of Hearts scowled. "That's it? How anticlimactic."

"Well I don't wish to fight you, if that's what you mean. No, I'm perfectly content to stay here in your dungeon. In fact, it will be good for me. I daresay I much prefer it."

The Queen of Hearts huffed in frustration. "We have a long rivalry, you and I, so I can't pretend I'm not disappointed that I won't get to behead you. You know, I know it's not your fault, but I've grown quite irritated over the years over the fact that some citizens of Wonderland have come to think of you and I as the same person!"

The Red Queen chuckled politely, while still running. Always running. "Yes, it is quite irritating." She laughed at a thought in her head.

"What is it?" said the Queen of Hearts.

"It's just that once I heard of someone asking, 'have you ever seen them in the same room together'? And now here we are, finally, in the same room."

"But no one can see."

The Red Queen said, "So perhaps the rumors shall persist."

"Perhaps," agreed the Queen of Hearts. "But I don't see how they could confuse us. After all, I am not the one who continually runs in place. I've always wondered why you do that. Don't you know you'll get places faster, if you actually move forward?"

"Of course I know that," the Red Queen snapped. "You just don't know where I'm coming from."

"Where you're coming from?! My dear, you're always in the same place!"

"It hasn't always been thus. You don't know my situation."

The Queen of Hearts smirked. "Should I run a mile in your shoes then?" She laughed a little at the pout that formed upon the Red Queen's face. "Oh, don't be such a priss. Why don't you just tell me, then?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"I shan't leave until you tell me."

The Red Queen sighed. "Very well! I have had much time to think about things, and the inner workings of my own mind and my reasons. I'll tell you succinctly: I am running from the past."

"The past? Is it so terrible?"

The Red Queen said, "Yes, for I betrayed the man I loved."

The Queen of Hearts laughed. "The man you loved? You mean that little pawn you had a fling with?"

"No, that was a grave mistake on my part. The man I loved is my husband and I might someday break his heart because I cheated on him."

Another chuckle from the Queen of Hearts. "Someday? You mean it hasn't happened yet?"

"No, because he is currently sleeping, but I felt that if I ran fast enough, perhaps it all might not catch up with him, and me."

The Queen of Hearts laughed. "All of that drama over a silly little pawn! My dear, they are your playthings! You shouldn't be ashamed to use them however you desire."

The Red Queen shook her head. "No. They don't deserve that sort of treatment. You forget, I was a pawn once, before the Red King came to love me."

Another laugh. "That's pathetic! You should be ashamed of the fact you were once a pawn, yes, but embrace your future, where you use the pawns! That's what I'd do! Even better now that he's asleep! When the cat sleeps, the mice play!"

The Red Queen sighed. "You just don't understand love. Perhaps no one has ever loved you."

The Queen of Hearts scowled. "Watch yourself. I have been nice by allowing you this cell. I could have you beheaded."

"Well I have known love, by the most honourable, respectful man in Wonderland. But I threw it all away for a meaningless tryst. The shock of it threw him into a sleep from which he has not awakened all these years. In fact, I am afraid of what would happen if he does. Perhaps I am merely his own dream, and I shall disappear entirely, or perhaps the past shall finally catch up with me..." She sighed forlornly.

"Well, forget the past then, I say. What's wrong with the future?"

"I don't want a future that doesn't include him."

"Crikey, you're pathetic! I tell you what, I shall rouse him..."

"No! I just want to run here, in my own private purgatory. Perhaps, in this way, he still loves me."

"You never seem to get anywhere. Why is that?"

"I don't know."

The Queen of Hearts scowled. "You shall tell me, or I shan't leave."

The Red Queen sighed. "Very well. Much as I hate to admit it to myself, the future frightens me, just as the past does, so I run just enough to stay in the same place. Oh, but I try to not even admit that to myself. Much better to fool myself into thinking I want to go somewhere."

"I see," said the Queen of Hearts, considering her, rubbing her chin as if the Red Queen were an intriguing specimen.

"Are you happy now?! Can I be left alone to run in peace?"

The Queen of Hearts held up her finger. "Well, I shall certainly leave you alone in this dungeon."

She sighed in relief. "Thanks."

"But there is just one last thing."

"Yes?"

"It's just that the guards have informed me that they have overheard you reciting a poem to yourself from time to time. Do you know of what I speak?"

The Red Queen swallowed. "Yes."

"Could you recite it to me? Then I promise that I shall leave you to your...running."

"Promise?"

"Yes. After all, I've grown quite bored with you actually. Just this one more thing..."

"Very well.

And the Red Queen recited her poem that she would normally only recite to herself, when she was alone:

Sometimes, you wish out loud to scream,

To awaken yourself from someone else's dream,

Where the way that you are isn't the way that you seem.

But then, the man who loved you might no longer care,

So you keep your past behind you, to keep him unaware,

And run and run away from it, while going to nowhere.

To let his dream of you go unharassed,

You mustn't reach a future, and you cannot face the past,

For if right now's forever, his love will always last.

After the Queen of Hearts heard the poem, her face turned pale. She nodded, then turned and exited the room.

The door slammed shut behind her.

Chapter 5 Black Rose

When Alice was 7

The encounter with the Black Butterfly had inspired Alice. She'd inquired discreetly about the Black Rose, then waited until the right opportunity presented itself. When it did, she marched in her magic goody two-shoes up to the Garden of Live Flowers.

It was a flower-bed of talking flowers who seemed to think that Alice herself was a flower. Alice had never corrected them of the notion, because she quite enjoyed the feeling of fitting in.

She always had to talk first. "Wake up, flowers!"

The Tiger-lily said, "Greetings flower Alice."

Alice enjoyed their company, but only in small doses, since they had certain notions that would grate on her nerves. For one thing, they thought she wasn't colorful enough, because she always wore a black dress (which they considered her petals). She cut right to the chase. "I've heard tell that there was once a black rose who inhabited your garden. Can you tell me any more about her?"

The Tiger-lily gasped. "The Black Rose?!"

And here all the other flowers gasped (though they did not breath like people did) then they grew silent, which was puzzling, because they'd always been a bunch of chatterboxes.

"That's right," Alice said. "What's wrong?"

"Where did you hear of the Black Rose?!" the Tiger-lily demanded.

"I've been asking around. There was a butterfly who was said to feast upon its nectar in order to turn black..."

"Yes, there was a rose who let blackness overtake her, and she was banished from the garden."

Alice felt sorrow rise up within her. She thought that a black rose might actually be quite pretty. Perhaps the Black Rose was simply a misunderstood outcast much like Alice herself. Maybe the Black Rose could use a friend to help her. "Where was she banished to?"

"Well, before we speak any further, you shall remove those wretched shoes. We despise them."

"What do you mean?"

"The shoes..."

Alice tended to be most agreeable, so she removed her shoes. "Now please tell me more."

"Figure it out yourself."

Alice completely lost her temper. With an outraged shriek, she reached out and grasped the Tiger-lily's stem. "Tell me, or I shall begin plucking your petals!"

The other flowers gasped. One yelled, "Let her go!" The Tiger-lily said, "You wouldn't dare." But Alice could feel that the flower was trembling ever-so-slightly, as much as a plant could reasonably be expected to, at least.

Alice reached out and pulled a petal off. "He loves me..."

The Tiger-lily shrieked in pain.

Alice dropped the petal then reached out, touched another one. "He loves me not..."

"Stop! I'll tell you! For the love of god, stop!"

And that was how Alice learned where the Black Rose had been relocated to by a mysterious cloaked flower tender they had summoned. Alice felt bad about being so cruel to get her way. She was usually such a good girl, but sometimes she just snapped, and they had made her take off her goody two-shoes, after all. Awkwardly, she left the garden, not wanting to make a bad situation worse. She'd have to make it up to the flowers somehow later.

They'd told her there was a stone archway set in the side of a hill a short distance away. Soon she saw it, tucked away discreetly in the middle of a forest. They said to look for a button on the archway to press to open the door.

She looked upon the edges of the gray-stoned archway. It was lined with carved runes that she couldn't read. Then she saw the button, but it seemed to be at the height of an adult. She was just a little girl, and she almost couldn't reach it. She had to stand on her tippy-toes and stretch. "Errrgh." Then she struggled to press the button in hard enough, but, then "Ahah!" she exclaimed as she pressed it in.

A blade of metal suddenly slid out above Alice. She could see that it was at just the right height to have decapitated any adult who pressed the button. She had been spared death on account of being short. She wondered if maybe she should turn back.

After a few seconds, the blade retracted, then the door slid upward.

She peered inside to see a square medium-sized room cut from gray stone.

In the middle of the room was a skeleton wearing a royal gown and crown sitting in a golden throne. Next to the throne was a pedestal atop of which rested a black rose within a flower pot. A glass dome rested over the flower and a note was attached to the inner surface of the dome, with hand written words upon it, but she couldn't read the note from her distance.

Alice briefly considered turning back, because this might be a rather precarious situation. But then she thought maybe the Black Rose was extremely lonely, and her heart filled with such sorrow for the rose's possible distress.

"Black Rose!" she called out. "Can you hear me?"

She thought she heard the flower give a muffled cry, but she couldn't make out the words through the glass.

"Fear not!" she proclaimed, "For I am here to rescue you from your predicament!" She stepped through the door then rolled on the ground into a crouch where she listened intently and peered around for any threat.

The door slammed shut behind her and she gasped and looked around. She was trapped.

"Oh bother," she muttered to herself.

Then she heard a kind of gurgling sound. Clear liquid began trickling from the edges of the room from little round holes. With dread, Alice assumed it was acid, because of course it would be!

The only way to avoid the acid was to stand atop the throne, so she performed three expert cartwheels toward it, then hopped atop the arms of the throne, balancing precariously. She didn't want to touch the icky skeleton.

The clear liquid reached the bottom of the throne and the fabric of the gown. A hissing bubbling sound issued forth as the acid began to dissolve cloth and bone and a pungent smoke rose up.

"Oh, this will not do!" Alice proclaimed, feeling sorry for herself. The acid level was slowly rising.

"Oh, what should I do, Black Rose?"

Again, the Black Rose seemed to speak, but again, she couldn't make out the words.

Alice hugged herself in terror, as the liquid of burning death approached. She looked around. There was nowhere else to stand. The ceiling was lined with rows of round holes and a larger hole above the Black Rose, but the ceiling was twenty feet above her, so she couldn't reach them.

While trembling with fear, she watched the level of acid rise, burning the skeleton and its dress, leaving the throne untouched, perhaps because it was made of gold, she thought.

"Help! Won't someone please help?!"

But there was no response. And then her tears began to flow. She flicked them from her face in frustration. The acid continued to rise, but now, the sizzling and smoke seemed to lessen.

My tears! A few of them dropped in the acid! Perhaps their magic negates it.

So she leaned forward and allowed as many of her tears to drip down into the acid as she could. Soon the sizzling and dissolving stopped and Alice laughed out loud in relief. The level of the liquid continued to rise though, and soon it rose over the throne and Alice could no longer avoid being immersed.

Soon she was drenched in it and had to tread water to stay afloat in the former acid. She suspected the liquid had been transformed into tears.

It continued rising.

I shall drown in my own tears, she thought morosely.

But then thankfully, the liquid began to drain from the room. While it was doing so, and Alice was busy treading in place, she took the time to read the note on the inside of the (apparently waterproof) glass dome over the flower. It read: "Smell me."

"Black Rose, can you hear me? I need you to just hold on for me, okay? We're gonna get you out."

The Black Rose shook a little. It seemed kind of like a nod, Alice thought.

The liquid had all drained. "Well, then. Now that that's done with, let's smell what all the fuss is about, shall we?"

That's when she heard a loud clamor of clanks from the ceiling. She looked up to see rows of steel spikes burst from the holes in the ceiling, then a creaking sound issued forth as the ceiling began lowering!

Panic came over Alice. Frantically, her mind searched for a way out of this predicament.

The mushroom!

She carried a piece of the Caterpillar's mushroom, so that she would be able to shrink down to his size whenever she needed to visit him. She reached into one of the inner pockets of her sopping dress, and pulled out the piece of mushroom. It was regrettably soggy, but now was not the time to be finicky, was it?

She nibbled and began shrinking, with the descending spikes following closely behind. She hoped she would be able to shrink fast enough. The ceiling was crushing the throne, the black rose's dome safely slipped into a hole in the ceiling, and Alice kept shrinking.

She reassured herself that there were no holes in the ground that would allow the spikes to slide in, so there would be space next to the spikes...

That was her only hope—to stand in one of the spaces between the spikes to avoid being skewered.

She looked up to the ceiling. The spikes had completely crushed the throne and the tips had almost reached the ground. She took a step to the side as the spikes clanked into the ground all around her.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

Then a dreadful, long moment passed.

Then a clanking sound as of chains being retracted, and creaking noises as the ceiling rose back up to its original position. The spikes retracted.

"Crikey, but that was close!" she yelled. She nibbled some mushroom to grow again.

She walked up to the pedestal. It was a bit tall for her, so she nibbled a little extra mushroom.

"Finally! Now I know from fairy tales that these things go in threes. Since I survived the three challenges, there shan't be any more." And with that proclamation, she lifted the glass dome off the Black Rose. "Black Rose, can you speak?"

Not all flowers could speak, and not all flowers that could speak spoke alike, and the words came from the flower as a whispery hiss. "Smelll meeeee."

Alice shrugged. "As you wish. You are a most beautiful flower. I'm sure your scent is just as much so."

She leaned over and inhaled.

And was transported—into a world unknown to her. Darkness and naughtiness and adult secrets swirled about. She experienced the delicious dessert of revenge served unexpected, and the malicious candy of destroying what others cherished. She felt and smelled the allure of seduction employed solely to betray. The corruption of innocence was this flower's scent. These were the shadows of unadmitted desires and sensations. She shuddered with the delicious chill.

She could feel the power of her goody two-shoes negating the corrupting influence, and debated whether to take them off.

But then she swooned and fell to the floor, lost in an unblinking daze. She was conscious, but unable to move.

She was unaware of how much time passed—it could have been seconds, it could have been centuries, when she felt someone or something grab a hold of her arms and drag her out of the room to the forest outside.

She was unable to blink and her eyes stung as they stared into the clouds above.

She saw a cloaked arm pass over, holding a glass tube, then something was held beneath her nose. She smelled the aroma of a pungent chemical. She instantly jolted and was able to move again.

She shifted her eyes to see a mysterious hooded cloaked figure holding the Black Rose in its pot.

Alice said, "Who are you? What happened?"

Alice could only see the glowing twinkle of two red eyes beneath the hood. "Shhh." The mysterious being lifted a bony gray finger to its mouth. "Your kind is not yet ready for the beauty of the Black Rose."

"You mean humans?"

"No, I mean little girls."

"I'm not so little. I'm almost 8."

"Yes...little girl. You went too far from home, young one."

Alice got the sense that it was speaking figuratively. "I just wanted to help. I'm sorry."

"One day perhaps, you will be ready. But this is not the day. Go back to your former life now. I am putting the Black Rose in a different place, to await those who are ready. As for this place..." It pointed to the stone doorway. "It will explode in ten seconds. I suggest you run."

When Alice shifted her eyes from the doorway back to the figure, it was suddenly gone and she couldn't be entirely sure it had even ever been there in the first place. Then her eyes went wide in alarm as she hurried to stand and run as fast as she could away from the doomed place.

The sound of a huge explosion erupted behind her then heat licked at her back and threw her ten feet through the air. Her head landed just a few inches from the trunk of a tree. Debris and ash rained down upon her from the sky.

She realized her blond hair was on fire and shrieked and rolled about to put out the flame—she hoped her hair hadn't been blackened.

Then she dusted herself off and returned to her hut. She snuck back into her chains. The guard card was still taking a nap.

When he awoke, he seemed puzzled by Alice's singed hair and the burn holes in her dress, but the guard card wasn't very bright, so the matter was quickly forgotten by him.

As she sat there, her thoughts were quite different than usual. She ruminated upon the delectable pleasures of torture. She wondered at the allure of licking the tears of others' pain and humiliation. And she thought, uncharacteristically for her, of how delicious revenge must be.

How great it must be to thoroughly vanquish and humiliate one's enemies? To plant death's kiss upon their cheeks, while raining your unrelenting revenge upon them? And upon their graves, to place...a single black rose...

Chapter 6 Birthday Party

When Alice was 8

Calloo Callay! What a frabjuous day!

It was an splendid day, indeed, for today was Alice's 8th birthday!

In the short time she'd been here, the citizens of Wonderland had grown so fond of using the girl for the sake of their own pleasure, and today was their chance to celebrate that!

Everybody who was anybody was gathered in the Queen of Heart's ballroom, which was filled with the dancing revelers and an assortment of cakes, snacks and foods. There was even a table of tarts that only the Queen was allowed to eat (heavily guarded of course, to prevent any further thefts).

"Welcome!" the Queen called out to the crowd of assembled revelers, as she held a glass of sparkling apple juice. "I'm so glad you all could attend." She gazed out at the crowd, searching. She saw the Tweedles, Humpty Dumpty, the Mad Hatter, March Hare, Dormouse, even the Jabberwock was there, looking awkward and shy. And there even was the grinning floating head of the Cheshire Cat, whom she hadn't even invited. "Now, we just have to wait for the birthday girl herself to get here!"

That brought up a round of polite laughter from the crowd.

The Queen said, "But I'm sure she'll be along shortly. So, eat, be merry and dance, and when she gets here, the party shall truly begin and we shall unleash all our planned festivities!"

That brought a cheer, and the Queen left the crowd to it and began mingling.

Meanwhile, Alice sat at her desk she was chained to, inside her humble, sparse hut. Today was her 8th birthday, but since she was stuck in this horrendous, stifling world, she didn't expect anyone to throw her a party, and just as she'd expected, no one had invited her to one. She sighed and pouted miserably. She supposed there was always the possibility that they would throw her a surprise party, just like they surprised her with unhappy unbirthday parties every day. And the day wasn't over, so she still held out hope.

So Alice was now spending her birthday at her desk, drawing upon a sheet of paper. She was drawing a picture of a girl who was chained to a desk. There was a huge cake in front of the drawn girl and she was holding her hand out toward it, but the chain wasn't long enough to reach. There was a big frown upon the girl's face. Alice felt like she wanted to draw tears, but that might be a difficult thing to draw.

The guard card who watched over her was no good company at all. He was seated in his chair, dozing.

She heard the sound of the door opening and grinned. Here comes my surprise birthday party! Oh, this just has to be it!

But when the door swung open, there before her eyes, was a girl she couldn't recall ever having seen before.

The girl was wearing a white lace veil over her face. She looked to be a teenager, wearing a long, fluffy black dress much like Alice's own. There were splotches of what looked like dried blood splattering her dress. The girl's right hand donned a black metal gauntlet like from a suit of armor, adorned with ornamental engravings and an odd, repeating symbol. She held a box with a handle atop it in her other hand.

Alice gasped and called out to the guard.

"Eh?" the guard said as he lazily opened his eyes. He saw the older girl and began to stand, as the girl calmly walked up to him and punched him so hard he knocked back into the chair and toppled backward into it with a crash. He lay unconscious upon the ground.

"Oh no!" Alice cried.

The girl was kneeling. She took the gauntlet off, then began rummaging through the metal box. "Don't worry," she said. "I won't harm you. I'm here to warn you."

At the Queen of Heart's ballroom, Humpty Dumpty was throwing a hissy fit. "Where is Alice!? I have a bucket of paint I had prepared especially to pour over her head!"

"Yes," said Tweedledum. "It's quite rude for her to show up late for her own birthday party!" "Yes, quite!" said Tweedledee. They crossed their arms.

"Yes," added the March Hare. "Doesn't she know how to tell time? She knows what time the party starts correct?" He was peering at the large oversized clock he wore around his neck.

The Queen of Hearts tried to control her irritation. "Yes, of course she does. It was right on her invitation, just like with all of yours."

"Well, then it's quite inconsiderate of her," said the March Hare.

The Queen of Hearts said, "Well, she's still not too late. Perhaps she'll be along shortly. But in the meantime, let's have some of her cake, shall we?"

"Warn me of what?" asked Alice. She watched as the veiled girl brought out two handcuffs from her metal box and put them on the card's wrists.

"I am from the future," said the girl. She began putting the other pair of cuffs around the guard card's ankles. She stood, kicked the card's spear away, then looked at Alice, said, "I am here to warn you not to let your heart grow black."

Alice chuckled at the very idea. "Well of course I won't, but why exactly did you want to tell me that?"

The girl sighed. "Listen. You're still new here. But I know...from personal experience. This place, the creatures and people here can be very cruel, and over time, it can, I mean it will really tear you down, make you start thinking negative thoughts. You might start thinking about getting revenge, hurting those who hurt you..."

Alice giggled. "Oh, that's silly! You can only get negative thoughts if you allow yourself to. That won't happen to me, because I always stay positive."

"I'm sorry, but all their cruelty, over time, it can get to anyone. It happened to me."

Alice frowned. "Well did you think positive thoughts?"

"I did for a long time, until I didn't."

She frowned more. "But did you look on the bright side?"

"I did, but then after all those years, the bright side disappeared, and it became all dark side."

Her smile wavered a bit, then reasserted itself. "But did you tell yourself everything was going to be okay?"

"Yes, I did everything you do, but still, over time, I let my heart grow black. And now I regret it."

Alice's mouth was twerking as she thought. "Well if you did all that, then I don't know how you could possibly let your heart grow black. You must have done something wrong. Did you try turning your frown upside down?"

"Yes, but after so many years of people being mean to me, the dark side took me by surprise. That's why I came here. I want to tell you, that over time, all the ways you keep the dark thoughts away might not be enough. Don't always assume you can keep away the darkness on your own."

Alice frowned, but then smiled. "Aww, don't worry. Everything will be okay."

"No! Listen to me! Things might not all be okay! They could turn out very very bad! I was once like you! I didn't take the darkness seriously, and now..." She pointed at the splotches of reddish-brown on her dress. "This is the blood of boys whose hearts I ripped out after causing them to love me."

Alice frowned, but this time her smile did not reappear. "That sounds mean."

"It was mean! Because I let my heart grow black! Listen, you must promise me, to do whatever you can. You must fight it, don't you understand? You must fight the darkness! Never let your guard down!"

Alice nodded and her lower lip began to tremble. She felt like she was going to cry, because this lady was scaring her.

The girl said, "Good. I've got your attention. I know the citizens of Wonderland can be cruel, but never let their cruelty wear off on you. Never give in to hatred, never let them get you down."

In a whisper, Alice said, "I won't. They just don't know any better. I will teach them to be kind."

The girl laughed sadly. "Just promise me you'll never let your heart grow black. You gotta do whatever it takes."

Alice's eyes went wide. "I promise. And those guys don't get to me. The meaner they get, the nicer I get! I'll kill them with kindness!"

Again the girl laughed sadly. "That's the spirit. I wish I could do more than just warn you, like provide you magic protection or something, but all I can do is use my own words and experience."

"Aw, don't feel bad," said Alice.

The girl softly shook her head. Meanwhile the guard card was regaining consciousness and slowly figuring out his condition.

The girl said, "Now I know it's your birthday, because I had to wait till today to speak to you, because of how the timelines interact, so I brought you this." She reached into her iron box and pulled out a chocolate cupcake with a candle stuck in the top.

"Ooh, is that for me?" said Alice. "I thought everyone had forgotten my birthday."

"I could never forget," said the girl just before she struck a match and lit the candle.

The guard card struggled and shouted, "Who are you? Let me out!"

Alice watched as the girl set the birthday cupcake upon her desk, and then Alice lost control and burst into tears. "Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome sweetie." She set two keys next to the cupcake.

"Halt! Surrender yourself!" called the guard card.

"Blow out your candle," said the girl gently.

Alice closed her eyes, made her wish, then blew out the candle. She expected it to go out, but then relight, just like the candles the citizens of Wonderland tormented her with during her unhappy unbirthday parties.

But when she opened her eyes again, the candle was extinguished and unleashing gray smoke.

The girl was walking away.

"It's your birthday?" said the guard card. He sounded remorseful.

"Where are you going?" said Alice.

The girl's voice sounded choked up. "I'm sorry. I can't stay." She picked up her things, put the gauntlet back on. "Happy birthday." She began walking toward the door.

"Lady?" Alice said.

She turned her head to look backward. "Yes?"

"I'm real sorry your heart turned black."

"Thank you," and as she turned away, Alice thought she could see tears brimming in her eyes.

And then the mysterious veiled woman was gone.

In the ballroom, all of Alice's birthday cake had been eaten. A near riot was on the Queen of Heart's hands because of the crowd's outrage. Numerous humiliations and indignities of Alice had been planned for her party, and now with her nonarrival, those plans were ruined.

Alice was now extremely late, and it seemed likely that the devious urchin was intentionally choosing not to show up.

The Queen of Hearts had put on a smiling face earlier, but now she could no longer hide her rage. She was supremely offended. "How dare she ignore my invitation!" she said to no one in particular. "I even went out of my way to make her a very special card, quite separate from all the ordinary unexciting kind I gave to all the other little people."

Next to her, Humpty Dumpty huffed. "Well, I never." He crossed his stubby arms and turned away from her.

The Queen felt the need to defend herself. "Well, her card was special. Not boring like the kind for the plebeians like you! I went through a lot of trouble making that card!"

Humpty huffed louder and turn away even further.

The Queen once again felt the need to defend herself. "Well, I did! It was lined with real gold and covered in purple glitter, in the shape of a heart. I had my court's best calligrapher write the note upon it with all sorts of swirly doodads."

"Like this?" said the March Hare.

The Queen turned to see that he was holding Alice's invitation card in his hand. He explained, "It was setting atop a table next to some escargot."

The Queen snapped her fingers. "Ooh! Now I remember setting the card there. Why, I must have forgotten to send the card off...but errr," in a loud voice she proclaimed, "But I did it on purpose, for if a girl can't be bothered to inquire about and find out when her own birthday party is, then she doesn't deserve to attend hers at all. So, Her Majesty doth declare she is greatly offended by this Alice's non-attendance, and for this offense, Her Majesty declares that Alice shan't be allowed to any more of her birthday parties!"

"Hear hear!" the call rose up from the crowd.

Of the two keys the mysterious veiled girl had left upon Alice's desk, one was the key to her own chains, which the guard card usually carried. The other key turned out to be for the handcuffs bounding the guard card.

The guard card was quite distraught after Alice unlocked him.

He whimpered, "If the Queen of Hearts finds out I was sleeping on my post, she'll have me beheaded for sure!"

He sounded so miserable that Alice took pity on him. "Don't worry. I shan't tell."

"Oh thank you, thank you!"

"Yes," Alice said, as she used the key to rechain herself to her desk. "As a matter of fact, let's not mention anything about this incident to anyone, shall we?"

"Oh, absolutely not. It shall be our little secret."

Alice tossed the key to the guard. "I only ask one thing of you..."

"Yes, what, Miss Alice?"

"Eat half of my birthday cupcake? It's lonely to celebrate one's birthday alone. Everyone else seems to have forgotten."

"Certainly, Miss Alice. It's the least I can do."

The crowd was gathered outside the Queen of Heart's ballroom. In front of them was a scarecrow that someone had placed a blond wig on.

The Queen of Hearts stood beside the scarecrow as the crowd shouted, "Burn the witch! Burn the witch!"

The Queen of Hearts was holding a blazing torch. "That's right!" she called out to the crowd. "This is what we think of stuck up girls who are so conceited that they can't even show up to their own birthday party! But we are no longer gonna put up with little stuck up Alice anymore! This is what we do to girls like you!" She pressed the torch to the mannequin and it caught aflame. "We burn you in effigy! Damn you, Alice! Damn you straight to hell!"

Chapter 7 Stolen Tarts

When Alice was 7 (before she arrived in Wonderland)

The Queen of Hearts was walking through the hallway feeling quite puzzled and annoyed. She'd gotten a message about an "urgent matter" but when she'd rushed to the throne room, no one seemed to know who sent the message or what it was about, so the Queen decided to go back to her ballroom.

"Someone's head shall roll for this screw up, that's for certain," she muttered to herself. She had been quite enjoying herself before she had been called away. This distraction was the second thing that had gone wrong with the party so far—the other thing was that the Jabberwock had misread his invitation and showed up an hour early, then left before the ball even began!

It was a masquerade ball and she was wearing a mask. Of course, everyone knew it was her, due to her elaborate dress. No one was allowed to have a better dress than her, after all. The only dress splendid enough to be comparable to this one was...the original version of this dress. She'd unfortunately torn it along the sleeve and so she'd had a duplicate made, which she was wearing now.

Come to think of that torn dress, she'd seemed to have misplaced it earlier this morning, but what did it matter, really.

She was approaching the doors to the ballroom, besides which stood two frog guards wearing powdered wigs.

"Welcome back, Your Majesty," said one of them.

"Shush!" she said. "I'm supposed to be in disguise, remember?"

"Of course My Queen."

That's when the door suddenly flung open to reveal someone wearing the Queen's duplicate dress running out of the ballroom. Since the person wore a mask, it was impossible to tell who it was.

Behind the person came the yell, "Stop! Thief!"

The person was looking behind him or herself as they ran, not looking where they were going. They turned their head forward just in time for the Queen of Hearts to land a solid punch across the person's face, knocking him or her flat on their back and seemingly unconscious.

One of the guard cards ran up to the prone person and pointed a spear at him/her.

The Queen said, "What is going on here?"

The card said, "That impostor stole Your Highness's tarts!"

Other guards arrived on the scene and handcuffed the thief. Behind them, the crowd of partygoers watched, whilst whispering amongst themselves.

"Who is it!?" demanded the Queen.

A guard lowered the mask to reveal that it was the Knave of Hearts! He began to come to.

She said, "Did he eat any of my tarts? Guard, check his breath!"

A guard squeezed the Knave's cheeks and sniffed his breath. "I don't smell any tarts, Your Highness."

"Thank goodness! Search him!"

Now the Knave spoke. "I didn't steal the tarts. They were already gone when I lifted the lid!"

As the guards searched him, the Queen furiously said, "Are you telling me that your defense is that you tried to steal my tarts, but someone else beat you to it?"

"Yes Your Highness. It is the truth!"

The guard cards had found no tarts. "They're not here, Your Highness."

She had been looking forward to eating those delectable tarts in front of the crowd while everyone watched with envy. She'd set the tarts upon a table in the middle of the ballroom beneath a metal dome with a sign next to it that read: "These tarts are the Queen of Heart's and you shan't have none, or ye shall be executed." The fact that they'd been stolen was a tragedy. With overwhelming sadness, the Queen looked to the guard. "Are my tarts truly gone? All of them?"

"I'm afraid so, Your Highness."

She turned red with fury and pointed at the Knave. "Off with his head!"

"But I didn't take them!" the Knave said.

"But you tried! You dressed up like me and you caused the distraction, yes? You sent a false urgent message?"

"Yes, but if you think upon it with Your Highness's obviously superior intellect, you will realize that I actually committed no crime."

"Yes, I'm much more highly intelligent than all the plebeians." She thought for several long moments. "Then you shall be given a trial. I am still not convinced you didn't steal them. But if 'tweren't you, then who?" She glared angrily at the crowd, which visibly cringed.

She stepped up to one of the guests who seemed particularly afraid and trembling with fear—a man wearing a mask. She pressed her nose to his. "Did you steal my tarts?"

"N—no, Your High-highness." He swallowed hard.

"I daresay you are much too nervous to not be guilty of something! Guards, off with his head! Take him away!"

Two guard cards dragged him, screaming, away.

The Queen of Hearts addressed the crowd. "Now, I shall ask each of you one by one, and have each of you executed until someone confesses!"

This caused a great deal of alarm, then everyone in the crowd began running away.

The Queen of Hearts watched and sighed. There were too many guests to be captured by her guards.

She looked down, lost in her misery. She had truly looked forward to eating those delectable tarts, but now that they were gone, it would take nearly an hour for the Cook to make her new ones.

She motioned toward the Knave. "Take him away to await his trial. And leave me alone." Her footsteps echoed through the large room as she walked to the table where her beautiful tarts had formerly been. The dome lay on the ground. The plate was empty. There were only a few crumbs.

She took off her mask and looked about to make sure she wasn't being watched. Sadly, she lifted the plate to her mouth.

And sadly she licked the crumbs.

Chapter 8 The Knight

When Alice was 8

Alice was in her usual place when she wasn't running her rounds—in her hut, chained to her desk. At that particular moment, she was doodling on a piece of paper a picture of her punching the Cheshire Cat's floating head, when the door flung open with such a jolt against the wall that Alice shrieked and jumped. And even the guard card, who was usually such a sound sleeper, startled up from his nap. He did so with so much enthusiasm that the chair he sat in toppled over backward.

Alice looked in the doorway to see a knight in gleaming white armor holding a sword.

"White Knight?" she said, recognizing the armor from a previous encounter.

Meanwhile, the guard card was rolling on the floor and moaning. "Owey owey, I banged my head."

The knight pointed his sword and with his voice muffled behind the armor of his helmet, shouted, "Off with that!" or at least that's what Alice thought he might have said, muffled as his utterance was.

If the knight had indeed said "off with that!" she could only surmise that he meant the guard card's head. Perhaps that's how he hoped to cure the headache!

The guard card's eyes bugged out as he saw the sword pointed at him. "Uh oh!" He seemed to be looking around for his spear, which had rolled quite a distance away.

As the knight set his sword point down into the ground, Alice was hoping there wouldn't be a fight, because then she'd be forced to free herself from her chain and reveal her secret lock pick she'd made from one of her hairpins.

The knight took off his helmet. It was indeed the same White Knight Alice had encountered when she'd first come to this magical realm several months ago.

He was an older man with a white floppy mustache. He repeated himself, "I said, 'sorry about that'. I should have warned you before I made my dramatic entrance, good ol' chap."

"Who are you?" the guard card said as he was getting up.

"It's the White Knight!" Alice said, delighted.

The Knight looked at her. "I much prefer the term Light Knight now. It's much less limiting, don't you think?"

"If you say so, Light Knight. So what brings you here? Have you come to rescue me?"

The card had retrieved his weapon at this point. He pointed it at the Knight, but seemed hesitant to interrupt their conversation.

The Light Knight chuckled. "Ah, I would love to rescue you, my little damsel in distress. But rescue you from what?"

Alice lifted the chain in her hands, shrugged her shoulders and bugged her eyes. "Do you not see I am being kept captive? I am a damsel in distress, as you have said, being kept against my will here in Wonderland."

"Oh, balderdash," said the Knight. "What little girl wouldn't want to be in Wonderland? Why it is a magical world of fantasy and imagination!"

Alice scowled. She rattled her chains feebly.

The card meanwhile, shook his spear. "Pardon me. Excuse me. Hate to interrupt..."

The Knight looked at him. "Yes, my good man?"

"May I inquire as to whether you come here with good will or bad?"

"Ah, my apologies my good card! But I am here on the Queen's business. I have secured the young Alice's services for the accompaniment of me upon an important quest! She is to be my squire."

"Squire!?" said the card. He lowered his spear.

"That is correct. A most noble position indeed, in this most perilous, and heroic undertaking. Forsooth."

"What's a squire?" said Alice. "What is forsooth?"

"I'll tell you what a squire is. A squire is the knight's most valuable servant. The carrier of his weapons, the carer for his heart, who keeps his stomach full and his mind pure. Only the most specifically chosen can aspire to the greatness of the station. And..." The Knight took about a dozen clanking steps toward Alice. Unfortunately he tripped and fell, but managed to get up quickly enough. He lifted his sword in the air. "And...I choose you!" He brought the sword down with a vicious strike as Alice winced, but the sword struck on the chain links resting on the ground, severing them with a loud clank.

"Behold!" he proclaimed. "You have now been temporarily freed to be my servant!"

"Blimey," Alice muttered to herself as she lifted her arm that was still cuffed, with about four feet of dangling chains still connected.

The Knight pointed his sword at the dangling bits of chain, nearly gashing Alice's cheek in the process. "Oh that will not do." He whirled around ferociously upon his heel and barked at the card, "Do you have the key? My squire must be unlocked this instant!"

The guard card had suddenly grown meek. "Of course my liege." He set about putting his spear down so that he could pick up the keys.

Alice crinkled her eyes at him. "What makes you think I want to be your squire? Hmm?"

She held her wrist out as the card unlocked her.

"What? Praytell why wouldn't you want to? Honor! Heroism! Adventure! It's all there! Did I not mention we are going on a quest?"

Alice was rubbing her newly-unchained wrist. "A quest for what, then?"

The Knight sniffed. "A dragon. I wish to slay a dragon."

Both Alice and the guard card exclaimed simultaneously, "A dragon?!"

The Knight nodded solemnly. "A rival most vulgar and vicious. A dragon like no other. This dragon I daresay is a menace. The ultimate menace."

Alice pouted. "But I'm just a little girl. I fail to see why I should be called upon to battle menaces, ultimate or otherwise."

"Well, er." He fidgeted. "Maybe the dragon menace isn't quite as ultimate as all of that, then. The point of it is that you are exactly sufficiently capable of assisting me in my heroic aim."

Alice placed her fist upon her hip. "Again, I ask you, why exactly I would want to put myself in harm's way?"

"Well, because you're a good girl, correct?"

"Yes, I even have the two shoes to prove it." And here she showed him her shoes. He espied them with overmuch delight, she felt.

He said, "And dragons are ferocious and bad, and must be put a stop to, so of course you'd want to help, being the good little girl that you are."

Alice fidgeted and twerked her mouth from side to side, still not convinced.

"Besides, according to the script, you shall get to play the damsel in distress! Think of all the sympathy that will elicit!"

"Wait, what script?"

"Well, er, I mean to say, these quests tend to follow a particular sort of order. We wouldn't want to disrupt the natural progression?"

Alice huffed and stomped her foot. "So just because I'm a little girl, I have to be the damsel in distress?"

"Well," said the Knight, "you don't expect I should be her, do you?"

"Why can't you take someone else?"

"Because I need both a damsel and a squire, so who better than you? So have you decided to come?"

"I'm still thinking..." She tapped her chin. "What if I wanted to slay the dragon.?"

"Ha, you couldn't harm a fly, even if you tried. We all know how meek and innocent you are. But enough of this piffle. We haven't the time for this. Why, right at this moment, the horrendous bloodthirsty dragon could be descending upon the village to pillage it and set fire to the fields and ravage the buildings with its vicious talons!" He was making clawy hands and had his eyes bugged out while making a scary face.

Alice drew back. "Oh my, that's awful!"

"Yes, so you shall accompany me so that I may successfully vanquish this threat in such a heroic manner that the bards shall sing of me? I've already composed a poem praising me. Would you like to hear it?"

"Oh no no," said Alice. "Save it for after you complete the vanquishing. That's when it'd be most appropriate."

He nodded. "Quite. Well, let's not dilly dally. Off we go on our quest. I'm afraid I can't allow any more time for you to decide. Are you coming?"

Alice rolled her eyes. "Well let's go then! Quit your dawdling!"

The guard card bowed at her. "I shall cancel your rounds for the day, milady."

"Thank you guard."

The Knight said, "My bag of weaponry and inventions is outside, but oh, one more thing, are there any extra chains about?"

"Why yes," said the guard card. "Why?"

The Knight answered, "They may come in quite handy when Alice plays the role of the Damsel."

Soon they were on their way. The Knight said they were traveling to a village that would be ravaged by the dragon, after which they would set out to the creature's lair to slay it.

"That's the natural order of such quests," he said.

Alice was huffing as she struggled to carry the clanking sack.

The flimsy sack ripped, spilling its contents onto the ground. She saw that the sack was merely a bedsheet. She looked woefully at the spilled supplies. She saw the extra pair of chains with lock and key, an odd cone-shaped device with a handle, a small pouch, a sword, a bottle of red liquid labeled "tomato catsup", a compass, a pair of goggles, what looked to be a cookie mold of a clawy creature's footprint, a box of matchsticks, bottle of rubbing alcohol, and a canteen."

"Here, I shall help you," said the Knight as he kneeled and his armor clanked. "Just retie the sheet, leaving out the part with the rip. It's the sword that seemed to have ripped it. Perhaps I should carry that."

"You think?! Why didn't you bring your horse? How far is this village anyway?"

"Well er, my horse and I recently had a spat. I'm sure he'll get over it. Of course I would have loved to have him with me for the trip to the faraway village, but seeing how I only have you, we shall go to a closer village."

Alice considered questioning him as to the logic of that, but thought better of it as she realized that a closer village would mean less walking and carrying for her.

They retied the sack and soon they were walking again. The Knight stopped answering Alice's questions or letting her in on any more information. He said that squires should be seen and not heard. At one point, the Knight realized that he'd left his helmet at the hut, but it was too late to go back. Alice giggled about that.

Soon they approached the "tea party" tree, beneath which was a table, where sat the three characters who sat there drinking tea all day. They were there as usual—the Mad Hatter, the Dormouse, and the March Hare.

"Ah," said the Knight. "There is the village that is to be attacked."

"Why that's no village. That's just the March Hare's tea table!"

"You should learn to complain less! I thought you wanted a village that was closer!"

"Yes. I apologize."

"Remember, seen and not heard."

The Knight clanked his way forward and Alice dragged the clanking sack/sheet of supplies upon the ground. She feared it would split again at any moment.

The Mad Hatter giggled and pointed. "Why it's the White Knight and Alice! Where's your horse, White Knight!?" The March Hare watched on quietly. Meanwhile the Dormouse had lain the side of his head upon the table, apparently taking a nap.

"Hello Mad Hatter, March Hare, Dormouse." He raised his sword dramatically into the air. "I have come—"

"Fancy a spot of tea?" interrupted the Mad Hatter.

"Perhaps in a bit," said the Knight. He wobbled the sword. "I hear his sepulchral wings beating upon the heavens. Hark, for here he comes!"

"Alice?" said the Mad Hatter. "Tea?"

"No thank you. I'm on a bit of a quest at the moment. Apologies."

"Quite all right," said the Hatter with a wave of his hand and a giggle. "Perhaps later."

The Knight shouted to be heard. "I have come to encounter the dragon that has been terrorizing this village, and then to track it back to its lair and slay it!"

The Hatter and March Hare looked around. Alice looked too.

"Dragon?" said the March Hare.

The Hatter said, "Village?"

"Yes!" said the Knight as he walked heroically up to the table with Alice following. "The horrible dragon that has been terrorizing this village. Do try to keep up shall you?"

Alice giggled at the puzzled expressions upon the Hare and Hatter's face. The Dormouse snored.

The Hatter said, "I say, my man, I thought I was the only mad one here."

The Knight proclaimed, "Oh, but I am the only one with the ears keen enough to hear the beating of the dragon's wings! Harken! He approaches! Soon he shall be here. Hand me my bag, won't you dear?" After she did so, he rummaged through it.

The March Hare began trembling. "Is a dragon truly coming to our village? To eat us?!"

The Hatter said, "As I said before, we are not a village. And a dragon has never attacked our village before. Why here? Why now?"

The Knight was adjusting the clear goggles upon his head now. He'd taken out the small pouch. "Ah, these goggles let me see into far distances." He shielded his eyes with his hand. "Ahah! There, off in the distance. I see it. Don't you?"

They all looked, except the Dormouse, who was still sleeping, but no longer snoring.

After they'd told him they saw nothing, the Knight sighed. "Very well, I see I shall have to point the vile bloodthirsty creature out. Soon he'll be close enough for all to see. Come, come everyone. Gather round. Come Alice, stand next to the Hare. There's a girl."

Alice didn't understand why they had to all huddle together in such a particular manner, but she went along with it. The Knight stood behind the three huddled voyeurs, then said, "Now look, just a little to the right of the sun."

They did so, but of course, the sun temporarily blinded them. The fierce brightness of it tinged all of Alice's vision with yellow. She heard the Hatter and Hare grunt and yelp as they too, apparently were similarly accosted by blinding light.

She heard a sifting sound behind her, like sand shifting through the air, then felt a pinging on her eyes, like irritating particles of dust. Then the bright blinding light in her vision suddenly shifted into pitch black darkness.

Behind them, the Knight shouted, "Oh no! The dragon has belched forth a blinding cloud!"

Alice heard the Hatter shriek and the March Hare called out, "I can't see!"

She rubbed at her eyes, but her vision remained pure black.

"Oh no!" called out the Knight. "The dragon is here! His claws, extended! He is about to rend you all limb from limb and roast you in his sulphurous dragon's breath of flame! And perhaps he shall eat you! He is fond of rabbit meat, I can tell!"

She heard the sounds of crashing china breaking upon the ground so she shrieked and instinctively covered her head with her arms and crouched, not knowing what else to do.

The March Hare called out, "Tell him I'm a hare, not a rabbit!"

While the Hatter yelled, "I can't see a thing! This is not desirable!"

To her left, she heard the Knight's voice call out, "Oh vile beast, leave this humble village alone, or suffer my wrath!"

Then a second voice from the left boomed forth in a deep voice, "Oh no, noble Knight, for I know you are the greatest knight of this land, and I shall burn you alive with my flaming dragon's breath, because you are so legendary and majestic, and then I shall burn this village to the ground!"

This caused issuances of lament from the Hatter and Hare. And Alice, in complete shock, could only utter, "No! Oh, no no no." The tears of her terror and helplessness began to well up within her blind eyes, then trembled over the edge of her eyes' boundaries and tumbled downward.

The Knight called out, "No, you shan't burn the little girl with your demonic breath's flame. She is my damsel in distress, so I shan't allow it!" And then she felt the tiny lick of flame upon her cheek. Alice shrieked and drew away from the heat. She could have run, but she was still blind, so how effective would such an action be?

The Knight called out, "I am swinging my sword at you, wretched dragon! Ow, you struck me in the eye! Now I attempt to strike you down, though I know I'll miss. Yes, that's right, retreat beneath my superior combat skills. Oh no! Now you are breathing your fire flame breath upon the table, immediately before you retreat back to your lair that I shall track you to. Oh no!"

Alice's sight suddenly returned—she realized it must have been the magic of her tears. She tried to get her bearings. The Knight had taken his goggles off and now had a black eye. She watched as he set a lit matchstick to the table, causing it to light on fire.

Alice's eyes bugged wide, but when the Knight possibly suspected and looked her way, she managed to shut her eyes once again and pretend to be still blind.

Alice still had her eyes closed. The Knight called out, "Ah, now the dastardly dragon has flown away, which signals the next stage of the quest. Everyone, I shall rinse your eyes out with water so that you may be able to see again. Ladies first." He guided her head back and she pretended to still be blind as he rinsed her eyes out with the canteen. She didn't want to embarrass the Knight by calling him out as a faker—she felt sorry for the old chap. It must be hard being a knight with a lack of suitable adventures to be had.

"I can see now!" Alice proclaimed. She looked at the Knight to see that now he had a bunch of blood upon his right cheek! Where had that come from if there was no dragon?! "You're hurt," she said.

"Pish posh. 'Tis but a scratch," he said courageously, and he went about reviving the sight of the others.

While he was rinsing out the Hare's eyes, the Dormouse rose up from the ground and yawned. Blandly, he said, "How did I get on the ground? Why is the table on fire?" He yawned.

Everyone ignored him.

The Hatter was furious. "My good knight, you must seek this dragon out and slay him so that he never visits our village again!"

"Hear hear!" said the Hare.

The Knight said, "Yes yes, that is exactly the next step I was about to undertake. My trusty squire and I must track the foul beast down!" He looked to the ground and knelt. "Look here! There are tracks here in the ground. I can use them to calibrate the dragon compass! Squire! Bring me the compass!"

Alice rummaged through the sack as all the others gathered around to look at the tracks. She noticed the cookie molds now had dirt clinging to them. On a whim she checked the catsup bottle to see that it had been opened. Alice pulled out the compass that looked like a normal compass that always pointed north. It even had the words of all the directions printed upon its face.

She handed the compass to the Knight then looked down at the tracks. They were identical to the cookie mold ones. She was no Sherlock Holmes, but she easily put two and two together.

The Knight put on a show for his audience. "Ah, now this compass is my own invention. All I have to do is calibrate it to the foul beast's tracks, and voila! It shall lead me and my squire right to the dragon's lair, where I shall heroically slay it. I've even written a poem to sing the praises of the event. Would you all like to hear it?"

They shook their heads. The Hatter said, "Perhaps later. After the actual slaying."

"Yes that would be the appropriate time," the March Hare said.

The Knight sniffed and looked disappointed. "Very well then. Squire! Follow me! Tallyho!" He began walking north, with Alice following.

"Is it far?" Alice whined as she lugged the heavy sack.

"Eh? Well no, it's not far. I know the perfect spot."

Inwardly, Alice was debating whether to call the Knight out. Because frankly he was lying and since she wore the goody two-shoes, Alice was very much opposed to lying. But she also didn't want to hurt the Knight's feelings. Perhaps it was one of those white lies she'd heard of. White lies from a white knight.

Soon they came upon a cave in the side of a hill.

"The compass points to that cave. That is where the ferocious dragon lives. I shall heroically enter the cave and impressively vanquish the beast despite our vastly different sizes. Then I shall recite my poem to you."

Alice rolled her eyes. "Shall I enter the cave as well, then?"

"Oh, no no. It is much too dangerous. You must stay outside, and listen as I wage battle with him." He was rummaging through the bag and brought out the bottle of catsup.

"Very well. You are so brave."

"I know." He raised his sword and called out to the cave. "Dragon! Prepare to be slain, for I, the Light Knight am here!"

He stumbled as he walked and dropped his catsup bottle, but then got up without comment and entered the cave. What ensued was the clanging of a most ferocious battle. Clanks and thuds issued forth. "Ow! You hit me hard that time! But now, look how I strike you! Oh, this battle has grown most feverish! How heroic I am to fight you! Ow! You struck me again! But look, I have struck you now. See how your blood drips upon my blade?"

"Oh for goodness sakes," Alice muttered to herself. "I have had quite enough of this foolishness."

Alice crept up to the entrance and peeked in, hiding as much as she could behind the edge.

She saw the Knight punching himself in the face inside a small cave that was filled with pots and pans. "Ow!" shouted the Knight. "You struck me a good blow that time. But you shan't be victorious!" He clanked his blood-covered sword onto a pot, making a loud clank noise. "There, take that blow!" He then punched himself in the face again. It was a solid blow, too, because he fell over unconscious onto the ground.

"Oh my!" Alice shouted. She rushed over to him. She would have hated for the Knight to have seriously harmed himself while fighting his imaginary dragon.

But she also knew she couldn't allow this charade to go on any further.

He didn't seem horribly harmed. After chaining his hands and feet together, she checked the blood on the sword. She tasted it. It was catsup. She roused him by softly slapping his face. "Wake up!"

"What? Where am I?"

"You managed to knock yourself out."

"Eh? You mean the dragon did."

"No, not at all. I know you were faking. It's bad to lie, you know! It's very unchivalrous."

"What? I did not! Where is the dragon? Did it flee?" He looked around.

Alice finally lost her temper and screamed in outrage and punched the Knight on the side of his face, but since she was only 8, it wasn't very forceful.

"Ow! I'm tender there!"

Alice immediately regretted her outburst. "Oh, I'm sorry dear!" She kissed his cheek. She looked at him. "It's just that it is not nice to lie. I can't allow you to keep up this charade."

The Knight looked back and sighed. "I know. It's just that...I wanted so bad to be a hero. I needed a monster to slay. I can't slay the Jabberwock, because we're friends, after all. There's just not enough monsters around here."

"What of the Bandersnatch?"

A frightened look came over his face. "You want me to be killed?!"

"No, I'm sorry. Of course not."

"Will you unchain me?"

"First you have to tell me how you tricked us. What inventions did you use?"

So he told her about the voice-distorting megaphone he'd used to disguise his voice and the blinding dust he'd blown into their eyes that would blind people for about ten minutes.

He tried to get up. "Now will you unchain me, please?"

"Not until you promise to confess to everyone."

"Confess?! That would be humiliating."

Alice nodded. She felt sorry for him. Then she had an idea. "Well, how about you give me that blinding dust and megaphone of yours so you can't use them on others, and we can both agree to never mention this thing with the dragon again."

"What? But I made a poem and everything!"

"Yes, I'm sorry, but you see, you didn't actually slay a dragon. You shouldn't brag about things you didn't do. Just say you couldn't find the dragon. It'll be a white lie."

"Oh very well then, you goody two-shoes! Can I at least tell you my poem?"

"That sounds pleasant." She unchained him—as she did so, she apparently wasn't paying enough attention, since she stumbled—why, her feet almost fell out from beneath her!

Then she had a change of heart as she fixed him with a look with her fist to her side. She was thinking about using the dust and megaphone for a little payback. "Now about the blinding powder..."

"Oh yes yes, you may have it. I have no further use for it."

"How long does the blindness last? It wouldn't be permanent would it?"

"No, it lasts ten minutes at the most. Now will you let me go?"

Alice agreed.

Before they left to go back to their respective abodes, the Knight recited the poem he had written about himself, which went thusly:

Oh, hear the tale of this brave knight,

Who smote the dragon in its lair.

The fearsome creature he did fight,

While others would have felt despair!

The dragon was so dangerous,

More fearsome than a bandersnatch,

And vicious and so devious,

But this day it had met its match!

To save the damsel in distress,

The knight faced claws and searing fire!

He is so brave, all must confess,

This lightning rod of girls' desire!

He smote it with a skillful strike,

He chopped it all to bits of gore,

This handsome knight who all girls like,

Then chopped it more and more.

So no, its head he hasn't brought,

But please to him, don't nag.

He's still the stud all girls have sought,

Although I hate to brag.

After the recitation, they went their separate ways. A few hours later, she discovered that the shoes she now wore weren't the goody two-shoes. The Knight must have switched them out unbeknownst to her. It seemed he was capable of some cleverness after all. But she hardly missed them, for she was very focused on paying a "special" visit to Humpty Dumpty.

Chapter 9 Humpty Dumpty

When Alice was 8

She snuck up on him carefully, from behind, in the cloak of night. At this time, Humpty Dumpty wouldn't be expecting her, and she was armed with just the right weapon. A non-fatal one: the blinding dust.

Payback time would soon come.

In one hand she held the voice-altering megaphone, with the other, she reached into a pocket of her ninja outfit for the pouch that contained the blinding dust. She wore goggles to protect herself for its effects. She'd also brought a small bag filled with the quick-rising cupcake mix she'd gotten from the Cook.

She was behind him now, kneeling just at the base of the low wall he liked to sit on top of. It really wasn't much of a wall, not very tall and not very wide—the Queen of Hearts had taken his other, bigger wall away. He seemed to be talking to himself. He said, "Oh woe is me! Why did I do that to her, when I shall come to love her?! Oh, I hate having to be mean to her!"

Alice listened, with a puzzled expression beneath her mask. Who was he talking about? Surely, he couldn't be talking about she herself? But then again, he had earlier been mean to her by kicking her after she called him an egghead. He was sensitive about the fact he looked like a large egg with a face on it.

Now Humpty Dumpty moaned and whimpered and rocked back and forth. Alice had never seen this side of him—and she meant it literally, too, because he seemed on the verge of toppling over and landing on her, and then she would see the inside of him too! But no, that's silly, she thought. Humpty is too experienced with sitting atop that wall of his to fall off so clumsily.

With a woeful voice, he called out:

"I'm Humpty Dumpty, here on my wall!

I'm Humpty Dumpty and I cannot fall!

...into love, that is, for it will bring pain,

So I'll just stay heartless and full of disdain."

Alice was growing more and more confused. What was he going on about? Humpty Dumpty had never been the whiny lovesick sort. But here he was moaning privately about not wanting to fall in love? Well frankly, who would be the girl he fell in love with, and for that matter, who could possibly love that vicious jerk back?

"Oh I wish my dear Alice could just hurry up and kill me, so that I might love her again..."

This stopped Alice cold. He had just made an unintended confession to her. She almost wanted to call out to him, to ask him what he was going on about, but no, that would be humiliating for him, and she could never be that cruel to him. Because I am Alice and through-and-through nice, although perhaps too nice.

And that is why she could never bring herself to kill him, especially after seeing this sensitive, vulnerable side of Humpty.

Oh, she had started out wanting to kill him, to get her revenge, but she knew she would never be able to bring herself to go through with it.

She would have to settle for a cruel prank. That's why she'd liked the idea of the blinding dust. It wouldn't be permanent, so her conscience would hopefully be clear? Maybe? She felt such guilt for what she was about to do. And yet, she knew he deserved it.

And now he was whimpering while rocking and muttering. "Oh my Alice, someday, maybe someday. Someday..."

She was struck by a panic that he knew she was there. But as she listened, it seemed he was just talking to a hypothetical Alice. She was confused, but she decided she wouldn't waste anymore time trying to understand.

She waited for a good opportunity. Soon his mutterings dissolved and she saw that he was covering his eyes with his hands, completely lost in his misery.

Now was the time. She crept around the wall as Humpty said to himself, "But why? Why would I even want love when it brings so much pain?!"

She didn't stop to ponder the words.

She was up against the wall, right beneath him, so close, but he couldn't see her with his hands over his eyes. She lowered part of her mask, then brought a handful of the dust into the palm of her hand. She rose up with a handful of the powder and blew—whoof!—a cloud of dust into his face, then backed away a few feet.

She'd brought the megaphone in preparation for this moment and would have to remember to use it every time she spoke. As the cloud drifted over him, she uttered the words she had planned—her voice came out raw, guttural, and unrecognizable. "Someone you wronged sends their regards."

Humpty Dumpty yelped in surprise and drew back, but always the skilled wall-balancer, of course he didn't topple over. She had expected that.

He'd lowered his hands and the cloud had done its work. "I can't see!" he shouted out, obviously, because that was the whole point. He rubbed at his eyes, as she went about the second part of her plan.

As she brought out the small bag, she called up to him in her raspy megaphone voice, "And you never shall again." It was a lie, because the blinding dust would wear off within ten minutes.

"Who are you?" he called out, in anguish as he rubbed his eyes. "What do you want?"

As she sprinkled the chocolate-tinged quick-rising cupcake mix around the base of the wall, she couldn't help herself. Playing with her false voice augmented by the megaphone, she became ever-so-dramatic. "I am justice, here to right what you have wronged. I will break you!"

"What? How have I wronged you?!"

"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall." She said it in her scariest voice. In combination with the megaphone's effects, she sounded outright demonic.

"No, please!" he shouted. "Look, why don't we talk about this? I can give you something maybe? Maybe we can work something out."

Alice cackled. "There is nothing to work out. What goes up must come down. Cupcake arise!" The cupcake mix rose up instantly, forming a large cupcake surrounding the egghead's wall. The cupcake was topped with icing and was a couple of feet shorter than the wall, which stuck out from the middle.

"What is this under my feet?"

She ignored the question. "Why do you sit on that narrow lame wall anyway?"

Despite his obvious terror, he sneered. "None of your business!"

"Tell me or die!" she shouted in her voice that sounded outright demonic.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"Are you afraid to fall?"

"What? Of course! Love is scary!"

"No, not fall in love." She huffed in frustration. Yet, her curiousity got the best of her. "What can you offer me to not push you off your wall?"

"Do you like Alice? I can give you a lock of blond hair I just this morning tore off her head."

And that's when Alice lost control, screaming like a banshee. "Awooo! I'll tell you, since you are as blind as a bat...I am about to push you off your lame pathetic wall! You won't survive, I fear. Oh well."

"What?"

"This is for Alice," she said.

She jumped and with both hands pushed him off the wall. He tumbled over while screaming in terror, and plopped into the sticky icing covering the plumpy cupcake.

She could hear him flailing and screaming for several seconds, but couldn't see him behind his wall.

"What?" he said. "Am I still alive?"

"Yes. You'll be okay if you just lie still. I just wanted to scare you. You're on a bed made of moist pastry."

"I can smell it," he said. "Chocolate."

"That's right. Be grateful I didn't kill you."

"And my blindness?" he said.

"Oh, that shall be permanent," she lied. "That's your punishment for being such a meanie head!"

"No!"

"Goodbye," she said, and with that she took off walking back to her hut.

"No! Come back! You mustn't leave me like this!"

She didn't respond.

"At least tell someone I'm stuck here!"

She stopped walking. She didn't feel as good inside as she thought she would. In fact, she felt quite yucky. She turned around and walked back to him. Unfortunately, she still had to use the megaphone, so her voice sounded soothingly demonic. "I'm sorry Humpty. You won't actually be blind forever. The powder will wear off in a few minutes."

Then she walked off, paying no heed to his calls asking who she was or his orders to inform others to help him.

She had stowed her usual black dress outside her hut and changed into it. She peeked into her hut to see that the guard card was still there in his chair snoozing away, and it was a simple matter to sneak back to her desk and fasten the chain back to her wrist using the lockpick she'd made from a hairpin.

It was just in time too, because just then the guard card woke up and stretched his arms.

Alice didn't wish to appear suspicious, so she rolled her eyes at him.

"Have a nice nap?" she said.

Chapter 10 Tweedle Twins

When Alice was 11

The Queen of Hearts was in the middle of a perfectly winning game of croquet, using that fool, obnoxious blowhard of a pink flamingo named Morley as her mallet, when in burst an interrupting guard card to break her concentration just as she was lining up her shot!

"My Queen! I have urgent news!" He prostrated himself face down upon the ground before her.

"Well now my shot is ruined!" she said, trying not to lose her temper. Nobody seemed to respect just how good a job she was doing of keeping it together, lately. She hadn't had anyone beheaded in three days.

"My apologies, Your Highness," the pathetic card whimpered into the ground.

"Well, now that you've interrupted my shot, tell me what the big emergency is then!"

"Yes, My Queen. It's just that the Tweedle twins—they're at each others' throats. They are going through a disagreement and are seeking a divorce of sorts, a divorce of brothers, you see."

"And so? What has that got to do with me?"

"It's just that they say you promised to be their judge if such a thing happened."

"Argh! So I did!" She set the pink flamingo Morley upon his feet. He all of a sudden, now chose to begin trembling. Shaking like a leaf, he was. "You're pathetic," she sneered to him, "just like your so-called 'poetry'."

Morley merely ducked his long neck and wobblingly exited the game field.

"Well, where are they then?" demanded the Queen.

The guard card said, "They await you in your throne room, along with the Cheshire Cat."

"Oh, that cat! Tell him I shall have him beheaded if he doesn't leave!"

She made her way to the throne room. There stood the chubby Tweedle twins, staring each other down while shaking their fist at each other.

"I'm so sick of you!" said one of the brothers. "Likewise!" shouted the other brother.

The Cheshire Cat's head was swirling around them in the air. The Cat had a habit of only materializing his head without his body, a tendency which severely irritated the Queen.

The twins were so engrossed in their argument that they failed to notice her entrance, which she found quite disrespectful. She considered having them executed on the spot.

Instead she shouted, "Your Highness is here, you nitwits!"

The Tweedle twins bowed. The Cheshire Cat sneered then went on displaying that creepily large grin of his. He was a most exceedingly rude feline. She would have to figure out a way to have him beheaded.

One of the twins said, "There's the Queen. Now you shall get yours." "Contrariwise! You shall get yours!"

The Cheshire Cat giggled. "Are you gonna let him talk to you like that?"

The Queen couldn't tell which twin he was speaking to.

She groaned. She desperately wanted to get back to her croquet. "You wish for Your Highness to preside over the proceedings?"

The Tweedle twins looked at her with a puzzled expression. The Queen felt that the boys just weren't all that smart.

The Cat said sarcastically, "Well that was some alliteration." The opposite of the twins, the Cat was too much of a smart ass.

The Queen groaned. "Why am I always surrounded by imbeciles? Tell me quick. What do you want me to decide? You want me as a judge?"

"Yes," said a Tweedle, "because I wish to get a divorce from him." He pointed at his brother. "No, pay him no nevermind," said the other. "It is I who wish to be divorced from him."

The Queen huffed. "A divorce? You're not married. But I think I know what you mean. But why now? You've always had your little tiffs before, but it's never come to this."

Tweedledee said, "The Cat informed me I shouldn't put up with this." Tweedledum said, "Nor I with that."

The Queen sneered at the Cat.

In his bored-sounding voice, the Cat said, "Yes, I helped them see the hopelessness of their arrangement."

The Queen said, "Perhaps you shouldn't pay heed to the meddling of that horrid pussy cat. But okay, as I've got to get back to my game...your divorce is granted. Off with both your heads. Is that all?"

The twins' eyes went wide with alarm.

The Cat giggled and said, "Oh that sounds delightfully bloody!"

Tweedledum said, "No no, this is not a matter that involves execution." Quoth Tweedledee: "What he said."

"Oh fine then! You are both pardoned. Now I shall go back to my game." She began to walk away.

Behind her, one of the twins said, "Wait. We want you to divide our property." "Yes," said the other, "give part to one, part to the other."

The Queen was by this time fuming. She had a short temper, and these two bumbling fools were trying her patience, not to mention that obnoxious cat rubbing his non-executed status in her face with his floating head.

"What property? You have no property."

They pointed to the ground where rested their child's rattle. It was the very same rattle the Queen had given them a year earlier for bringing the Red Queen in.

She said, "Fine then! What is the grounds of your divorce? Your Highness must determine who is at greater fault."

Tweedledee explained, "We had an agreement that I should lick the tears from Alice's right eye and he from the left."

"'Tweren't neither! Her left is oftimes not my left!"

"Are you to tell me," she said, her cheeks turning red, "that this is all over you two not being able to tell which way is left and which way right?"

The Cat was chuckling.

Tweedledee said, "Sometimes my right is not your right." Tweedledum said, "And sometimes her left is not my left."

The Cat said, "So who gets the rattle?" with an obnoxious arch of his brow.

The Queen said to him, "I don't like how smug you are. I hereby sentence you to death. Off with your head!"

"Good luck since I have no body, therefore I can't be beheaded."

"Argh! I am quite tired of all of you! Now I have the solution. Here is my judgment..."

The twins leaned forward, listening.

The Queen said, "The rattle shall be divided in half. You each shall get a piece. There, your divorce settlement is resolved."

The boys burst into tears. "But we love our rattle!" "I love it more than him!"

The Cat helped, "Why not divide the twins in half instead."

"That's something worth considering," the Queen said to him.

"I take it back!" wailed Tweedledum. "Likewise," said Tweedledee. "I wish to have the divorce annulled!" "As do I!" "I want to more than him!" "No, I do!" They glared at each other. Their hands formed into fists.

The Queen rolled her eyes. "Very well then! The divorce is annulled. Your precious rattle shall remain intact. Now that you have wasted my time, I order you not to do so again. From now on, you shall settle your disputes amongst yourselves, or I shall have you executed. Understand?"

"Yes, quite." "I daresay I understand more than him."

The Queen nodded slowly, then burst into a fit of action—while screaming, she rushed toward the floating Cat's head and tried to punch him with all her might.

But he swooped out of the way. "You'll have to be faster than that," he said with a chuckle.

The Queen, furious, shouted, "Oh get out of my sight, the obnoxious lot of you!" She turned and walked back to the croquet grounds, hoping that the flamingo named Morley hadn't slinked too far away.

Chapter 11 The Witch Doctor

When Alice was 9

When Alice was 9-years-old, she went through a particularly dark and mournful period. She was woeful of the horrible treatment from all the creatures of Wonderland and resentful that she was being held captive there. She grew so woeful that she slept most of the day and went about her rounds slowly and unsmiling. She hardly seemed to react to things at all, and for that reason, the citizens of Wonderland began to find her a bore.

It was harder to make her cry, to shriek and show fear. Utterly boring, she was. And inside, she was consumed with dark thoughts, of sadness, hate, loneliness, and particularly troubling, a desire for revenge. But all those dark emotions were so overwhelming that she just ended up, ironically, feeling numb and hopeless.

At that particular moment, she was standing beside the Queen of Hearts in her game room, beside one of her newest toys, a billiards table. Since Alice was 9 and short, she had to stand upon a crate to be able to reach. She woefully held a pool cue in her hand, staring at her feet.

Next to her, the Queen of Hearts said, "You're not paying attention to me, my girl!"

Alice woefully raised her head, with its precious blond locks. "Sorry," she muttered. The Queen had already taught her much of the game, with the understanding that once she learned how to play, Alice would be expected to either lose every time or lose her head. Since she was only 9, she thought it would be easy to lose.

This day, they had an unusual guest—a man known as the Witch Doctor, who had come from a foreign land in a foreign continent or island or somesuch. He was completely bald and had a bone going through the middle of the inside of his nose, which Alice found quite curious.

The Queen said, "Now, what do we call this again?" She pointed at the white ball.

"A cute ball," Alice said, then sighed.

"No, no! It's called a cue ball! Now watch carefully. I have already showed you how to jump the ball."

"Light a fire under its bum," Alice said. That's how the Queen had described it—according to her, she liked to imagine the cue ball was an enemy whom she was sneaking behind and lighting a fire to. The Queen seemed to have many violent thoughts associated with what was merely a game. When she referred to the act of knocking the other balls into the pockets, she likened it to "pushing enemies into their graves".

"That's right," said the Queen. "Now for your next lesson, I'd like to teach you how to apply english to the cue ball."

"If she can manage to do it properly..." muttered the Witch Doctor quietly, just loud enough to be heard.

The Queen turned to him. "What was that?"

"Nothing, Queeny, I was just saying you can do it most properly."

She glared at him for a few moments as if deciding whether to believe him, then finally said, "Quite."

The whole exchange caused Alice to give forth a slight giggle, a rare occurrence these past few melancholy weeks.

The Queen looked back to Alice with an expression on her face that seemed to indicate she was sick of looking at the Witch Doctor.

Alice said, "Apply English to it? Do you mean to give a stern talking to it?"

The Queen tutted condescendingly. "No, my silly girl. Although, I can understand your confusion. No, it is an entirely different use of the word than you're thinking of. Some people refer to it as 'applying spin'." She leaned and edged the tip of her pool stick toward the cue ball and prepared to make her shot. "What it refers to is hitting the cue ball at an angle so that, as it moves forward, it spins. You tap it hard with the stick—boom!—and give it a twist. I like to think of it this way: it's much like the cue ball is the head of someone you despise, and bam!!! You snap their neck with a twist and send their head rolling to knock the other persons, I mean balls, into their graves, I mean pockets."

Alice had jumped when the Queen had loudly shouted, "Bam!!!"

"Yikes," the Witch Doctor muttered, again just barely decipherable.

"What was that?" the Queen snapped as she again jerked her head to him.

"I meant yikes, you are astounding in the degree that you have mastered this game."

Alice once again tittered despite herself. She thought the Witch Doctor was a bit too feisty and sarcastic for his own good. Didn't he realize that the Queen regularly beheaded people and creatures for much less?

The Queen waggled her finger at him. "Watch yourself. You've got a mouth on you."

"I shall," he said, but it looked more like he shan't.

The Queen huffed and turned back toward Alice. "Now after enough practice, when you apply your english to the ball, you can do all sorts of wondrous things. For example, you can cause the cue ball to curve in its path. Or, by using the proper amount of spin, you can cause the other heads, I mean balls, to twist in a certain way once they are struck. It's most marvelously complicated, don't you think, my girl?"

"Yes, Your Highness," Alice answered automatically, but the words felt empty. Her whole life had seemed to be a vacuous exercise in futility, she thought morosely.

The Queen continued, "I like to imagine that these balls are all heads that I have myself all ordered to be decapitated. Now watch." She applied some chalk to the tip, then with her pool cue, she struck the cue ball at an angle so that it curved, going around a striped ball and curving around to strike a green solid-colored ball which then sailed into a corner pocket.

"Aha!" shouted the Queen victoriously. "When heads shall roll, the Queen of Hearts is always in control!"

"Congratulations," Alice said glumly. Her thoughts briefly reflected on the cue ball—if the Queen considered it a head upon a neck being snapped, how could it then also be a bum beneath which a flame was lit? That seemed biologically impossible, but she failed to mention the discrepancy, because her melancholy discouraged it.

The Queen seemed to notice her lack of talkativeness. "Is that all you have to say? No clever quips?"

"No, My Queen," she said then clamped her mouth.

"Why my girl, I say, you're no fun at all anymore. So I have appointed this Witch Doctor here to fix you."

She waited for Alice to give the appropriate response of saying, "Fix me?" but Alice merely remained woefully silent.

The Queen said, "The Witch Doctor here is quite clever himself, though he lets his mouth get away from him at times. He shall be your mental aid, like a psychiatrist. Ha! A veritable head shrinker!" She began to laugh out loud and the Witch Doctor began tittering along with her.

Puzzled, Alice queried, "Your Majesty?"

The Queen said, "Well I made a bit of a joke there. You see, the magic wielders of his tribe have acquired the ability to shrink decapitated heads down to quite small sizes. It is really quite amazing. I have been asking him to teach me how to do it."

"I doubt you could do it right," he muttered, again under his breath.

"What was that?!"

"I mean, at first, Your Majesty. It is a most difficult procedure, but I'm sure, given enough time, even you could learn how to do it properly."

She scowled at him for a moment. "You should watch yourself—you're not as cute as this girl here. She is allowed to say things that you are not. But lately she has been as silent as a mouse, and so she is failing to entertain Your Highness sufficiently. So, Alice, I'm sending him home with you, my girl, to fix you with his primitive magic." She turned to him and growled. "And you best fix her or it's off with your head."

"I highly doubt that," he muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, Your Highness."

"Oh, be off with you two. I've had enough of you for one day, Witch Doctor. You irritate me."

And so Alice and the Witch Doctor returned to Alice's hut. Alice dutifully chained herself to her desk, since the guard card who usually did it was away.

It started out rather awkwardly. Alice sat at her desk staring at this strange bald man.

"How did you do that?" she asked as she pointed at the bone through his nose.

He told her the painful process, which included pressing a sterilized needle through the tissue inside the nose, and Alice pulled faces and winced.

But afterword, she said, "It looks quite fetching though, in a primitive manner."

"Why thank you, young miss. I've heard of you. Young Alice the girl from the outside world with the magical tears. I have quite a propensity for magic myself. I make potions and perform spells."

And here he filled Alice in on all he could do. He told her how he could cast curses, could perform spells for good luck, bad luck and love, he even knew the formula for a potion that would convert a person into a will-less slave known as a zombie.

At the look of Alice's horror, he reassured, "But don't worry, I wouldn't zombiefy such a pretty young girl such as yourself."

At this she nodded and sighed, lost once more to her melancholy.

He observed her. "Ah yes, a dark cloud has passed over your spirit, stealing you of your mojo, yes?"

She sighed. "I don't know what mojo is, but I think I might be lacking it, yes, kind sir Witch Doctor."

"Ah, well I have been summoned here to help you, sweet child, but to do so, I must know more. Can you tell me what is wrong?"

"I'll tell you what it is. I am a bad girl."

He arched a brow. "How so?"

"I have dark thoughts, I am ashamed to say. I used to be able to push them aside, but lately they've been overwhelming. Why, these thoughts are horrifying..."

"Are you going to cry?"

"What? No, I don't think so."

"So tell me about these thoughts."

"Well, the other creatures of Wonderland are so cruel to me, and though I try to stay a nice good girl and still keep love in my heart for them, sometimes, I just...have these visions in my head, of getting revenge, even though I know it is wrong to seek it."

"I see. What kind of visions?"

"Oh Witch Doctor, they're horrible! Why, I want to punch them and kick them and beat them and flay them and cut them and choke them!"

"Choke them?"

With wide eyes she said, "Oh yes, and cut them and disembowel them and strangle them and—"

"Well you already said cut them."

"And bust their kneecaps and snap their necks and pull their hearts out of their chests and show it to them before they die."

"Before or after you snap their necks?"

"I would perform those acts separately to two different individuals."

"Oh I see. Those are indeed dark thoughts."

She looked at him with eyes wide with sincerity. "Oh yes, Witch Doctor, they most certainly are! The thoughts have brought this black cloud over me, as you call it, and everyday the darkness rains upon me and enshrouds me in the sickly trickles of melancholy."

"Oh my, dear child, that is quite poetic."

"Thank you. I actually did even comprise a poem about it:

Oh, dark cloud of melancholy,

I feel you descend, and now embracing me.

I breath in deep your tempting wisps,

And feel you tingle upon my lips.

I mingle with your tendriled tongue,

Forgetting that I'm still too young,

For dark desires, of vengeance brought

To those who only their own pleasure, sought.

I yearn to fill their souls with fears,

To feast upon their trembling tears,

To serve at hatred's beck and call,

To bring their broken neck and fall.

"That was the poem revealed to me in a dream. What do you think it all means?"

"I think it means you are a very disturbed little girl. But I know how to help."

She almost smiled. "Oh? That would be delightful."

"Yes, I anticipated your problem, so I made sure to bring this." He reached into a leather satchel at his side. He brought out a cloth rag doll in a black dress, with X's instead of eyes, and her mouth hand-stitched. The doll was lacking hair, though. It had a corruptagram pendant around its neck. The corruptagram is a symbol of a broken heart inside a circle with devil horns on top.

Alice said, "Ooh, I must say that's a rather ugly doll."

"It's a hate doll."

"Oh my, it reminds me of a thing I read of in the penny dreadfuls referred to as a voodoo doll."

"Well my girl, they are similar but not quite the same. They both make use of pins, though." He brought out a pin cushion shaped like a miniature head.

Alice gasped.

"Oh don't worry, this shrunken head is fake."

"Is it true that you know how to shrink a head down to such a small size?"

"Oh yes, but it requires preparation—first you must remove all the bones inside, then you have to apply heat to the head until it shrinks."

She wrinkled her nose. "That seems outright ghastly, but I should like to try it upon some of these vile Wonderland creatures." She scowled, then raised her fist and shook it. Then she sighed. "Those dark thoughts again. This hate doll can help me?"

"Yes, listen up. What you can do is take all of those hateful thoughts of revenge and maiming and transfer them to your hate doll by sticking the pins in it. You will then move your hatred from within yourself and pin it to your doll. The doll will wear your hate for you, so you won't have to carry it inside, you see? Then you will go on being that sweet girl you were before. Show me that smile."

Alice made an effort to smile.

"Ah there we are. All those bad feelings will no longer plague you and your dark cloud will blow away, poof! But there is one condition."

"Yes?"

"Well in order for the magic to work, I shall need to strip you of your hair and fasten it to the doll's head, in order for it to be your magic representative."

She clasped her long blond hair reflexively. "My beautiful hair? Is that truly necessary? I do so love my hair!" She felt on the verge of tears.

"Oh, there we are," he said as he glanced at those brimming potential droplets.

He began rummaging through his satchel again.

She grew indignant and sniffled. "You're supposed to tell me, 'don't cry' then try to console me!"

He brought out a little hollow glass tube with a cork sealing it. "Oh, my apologies. I don't know how to console you though. There is no other way. But you'll feel much better after you get rid of your hate. And your hair will grow back, of course."

Alice sighed. She now felt too emotionally numb even to cry. "Fine. Whatever."

"Very well. I have a kind of lotion that I will rub on your scalp. After a few moments, all your hair will fall out and you shall be as bald as, well, me, or a cue ball."

Alice merely nodded meekly, and peered forlornly at the top of her desk as he rummaged. Soon, he had brought up a little container, which he unscrewed then began slathering the noxious goo into her scalp like shampoo, while she sat with her hands resting in her lap, no emotion upon her face.

It began to tingle and feel warm amongst her follicles. The Witch Doctor snarled and grabbed a hold of her hair and twisted, but it hadn't yet detached from her head and she yowled. "Ouch! That hurts!"

"Oops, sorry." He looked into her eyes, which had wettened from the sudden pain. "Go ahead, cry. I shall collect your tears."

Then with a fizz and snap, her hair broke free. He chuckled. Alice shrieked. "You bastard! I'll kill you!"

He was standing in front of her, smugly holding her golden locks. "If you say so, baldy."

Alice scowled, then she shook her head. "No, it is wrong to want to harm others. That is why you must help me!"

"If I do, will you please muster up a few tears, my girl? For my potions. If you do, I'll even cast a temporary skill-increasing spell that will allow you to beat the Queen in billiards. Okay?"

"Ha! I would love to see her face when I beat her. No, I mean, it would make her oh-so-sad to lose. That would be mean, and it'd be like cheating."

He arched his brow while staring at her.

Self-consciously, Alice raised her hand and ran it over the top of her head—yes, it was bald and smooth, it almost felt like it was waxed. She pulled a face.

"Well, okay, my girl, if you do not wish me to cast the spell, then I shan't..."

Alice nodded. But then she felt them coming on again—the dark thoughts. She tried to fight them off, but they were too strong. "No! Do it, before I change my mind! Ha! I want her to suffer humiliating defeat! I promise I'll cry for you!"

"As you wish, milady." He rummaged, brought out another liquid-filled tube. He grinned. "I managed to obtain some of the Queen of Heart's sweat while she was playing billiards with me." He opened it with his mouth, since he still held her hair in his other hand. "I shall now sprinkle her sweat upon your cue ball head...there we are. And now I shall place my hand upon your smooth head. Now don't squirm, my dear. And now I shall recite some words in my native tongue." He launched into a guttural chant in a language unfamiliar to Alice. "And voila!" He removed his hand. "Now, whenever you play billiards during the next few days, you shall be highly skilled and able to make the most astounding shots! It will be near impossible for you to lose! And now that that's done, let us move on to the matter of you unburdening your dark thoughts, shall we?"

Alice nodded. "Quite right."

After some more rummaging, the Witch Doctor produced a band to tie Alice's former hair with, then he brought out a jar of glue he used to stick the hair onto the doll. As they waited for the glue to dry, the Witch Doctor handed the bone pins to her. "Now listen up, my girl. What you shall do is, you shall place one hand to your heart and hold a pin with the other. Then you shall bring up all those dark hateful thoughts of revenge and cruelty. With my aid, those dark thoughts shall transfer to the pin, which you shall then stick to the doll version of you."

"Where shall I stick it?"

"Why, to the doll's heart of course. There, you see?" He pointed to the doll's chest, where there was a red heart painted. "You shall empty your heart of your hatred and transfer it to the doll's heart, where it shall be kept. Then you shall be free from those thoughts!"

"Oh my! Such strange magic indeed! What would happen if the pins were removed from the doll?"

"Well, then those dark thoughts would be freed, so I suggest you don't let that happen. Even so, the effect won't last forever, for you are capable of growing new hateful thoughts to replace the old ones."

"Oh no no. I learned my lesson. I shall once again strive hard to remain a good little girl, who bears no ill thoughts toward anyone! I won't even let such notions begin!"

"Er, if you say so. All I care about is getting ahold of a of some of those precious tears of yours. We have a deal, right?"

"Oh, yes yes." She waved her hand. "Let's get on with it, then."

And so Alice did as instructed. As she was about to stick the first pin in, the Witch Doctor encouraged her: "Now focus on your thoughts of revenge. What would you like to do to the Queen of Hearts, and the Tweedle Twins, and all the other rascals who torment you every day? Hmm?"

Alice closed her eyes and brought the hatred up from her heart. "I would love to stab them and cut them, then maim then barbecue them then behead them then feed them their own barbecued heads!"

"That's it! Gorge on your hate! I love it." He made some chants and hand movements, then Alice felt some of the hateful feelings shoot from her heart up her chest, then down her arm and into the pin. "Now stick the needle in!"

Alice stuck it into the doll heart, then felt some of her hatred lessen. She repeated the procedure four more times, and each time the dark thoughts lessened until they were gone completely and each time the heart on the doll darkened until it was black.

Alice took a contented sigh and grinned big. "Ah, now I feel most lovely. I am my old self again. I harbor no ill thoughts towards anyone anymore!"

He peered at her. "Well, that's great. But there is still the matter of my tears you promised me." He stared at her eyes, but there were no tears brimming there.

"Oh yes," Alice said. "I remember, but I'm just so dang gummed happy, I have no tears right now." She hugged herself and squeezed while squealing with delight. Then she pounced on the Witch Doctor and hugged him. "Oh, you're my hero!" she shouted.

He pushed her off. "Oh that's enough of that, my girl! Now I must make you cry. You promised me!"

He glared at her. She shrunk back and said, "You like making little girls cry?"

He grinned menacingly. "I, my dear, love it." He slapped her hard across the face.

She screeched at that and pressed her hand to her face. "Ow! That hurt!"

"It was meant to," he sneered.

"That wasn't nice!"

"I know. But I don't fear you at all. I know you won't do anything about it. All your dark thoughts were stored away in that doll. Don't you miss them?"

"No," she said, with her eyes brimming with tears, but she didn't cry, "for I know I am pure of heart. I don't know what is going on with you. We all make mistakes, after all. I forgive you."

The Witch Doctor just stared at her for a moment, then rolled his eyes. "My, what a virtuous girl you are. But I don't have time for this nonsense. I must get back to the Queen to inform her that I have fixed you." He took a moment to take in her bald head. "Why, you used to be such a pretty little girl." He made a tsk sound with his mouth. "But now, I daresay, your appearance is...below par." He began rummaging in his bag again. Pulled out a hand-held looking glass, then held it up so she could see her reflection.

Alice stared in horror at the bald-headed version of herself.

Softly, he said, "Think of it. All your beautiful golden hair is gone. Think how long it will take to grow it back. The situation is utterly dismal, I'm afraid."

Alice's lower lip began to tremble.

The Witch Doctor said, "The leaves have fallen from the tree. The chicken has been plucked of its feathers. I hate to say the word, 'ugly', so I shall refrain from doing so. Your hair, your beautiful hair, is gone."

And that, as they say, is the straw that broke the camel's back. The levee broke and the tears were unleashed.

And in an instant, he was there to encapsulate and enslave a few of those sacrificial tears to the glass cages of his cork-topped tube.

Once he had scooped up the tears he wanted, and given her the bone she asked for, he made a quick exit. Leaving Alice all alone, but at least her heart was no longer burdened by dark thoughts, and she began to hum and sing, just an angelic sweet little girl once again.

The next day, she went to visit the Queen of Hearts at her billiards table once again. The Witch Doctor was absent this day.

As Alice approached, the Queen of Hearts pulled a face, and said, "Yick! What happened to you?!" for Alice looked quite different from yesterday.

Her head was still bald, but also, during the night, she'd grown curious and had used the Witch Doctor's lessons to stick a bone through the inside middle of her nose.

"Good morning, Your Highness!" She beamed.

"Why you look like that Witch Doctor, except much shorter."

"Yes, I've never had a bone in my nose before. Speaking of the Witch Doctor, where is he?"

"Oh, he shall be along shortly. Yesterday he annoyed me quite too much, and I got so angry that I couldn't tolerate him anymore, but I cut him down to size. He shall no longer speak to me in such a rude manner. But he told me that he had fixed you?"

"Oh yes!" she said with a giggle. "I took all those bad thoughts and stored them away!"

"Ah yes, on the doll, correct?"

"Yes. It is a most ugly, yet glorious doll."

"I shall be wanting that doll. Where is it?"

She pouted. "It's at my hut. But what use do you have for a doll? You're a grown up."

She folded her arms. "Because I want it, and I get what I want."

Alice pouted again, but then she tried to think of why the Queen would want it. Maybe the Queen was sad because she had no toys! "Well, I hope it makes you happy, Your Highness!"

The Queen chuckled. "I daresay you have been cured, my child."

"Thanks!"

The Queen rolled her eyes. "But I'm afraid that non-hairdo of yours shan't do. I shall have someone whip up a special potion that will speed-grow your hair, but it shall come in black..."

"Ooh, pretty."

"Quite. Now, let us play a game shall we? There is your crate. But first, I don't think I can bear to look at your bare noggin' a second longer! Why I can see my reflection in it!"

"You can?" Alice pressed her hand self-consciously to her head.

"Not literally. I was just mocking you."

"Ohhh."

"Now, I have come up with a solution for your ugliness until your hair grows out again. Guard!" One of the guard cards stepped forward, holding a wig of long black silky hair, which he handed to the Queen. "Ah, here we are. Now stand up on your crate so I can put it on you."

After a few moments, the wig was adjusted upon Alice's head.

The Queen handed her a pool cue. "Now let us begin the game, shall we? I shall break."

Alice tried to remember the rules. What the Queen was doing was called racking the balls. All the balls started out in a triangle. She removed the rack. Next, the Queen would hit them with the cue ball, which Alice didn't see on the table.

Reading her mind, the Queen said, "Ah, I have it right here. We shall play a slightly different game today." She was reaching down at the side of the table. "I told you the Witch Doctor would be joining us, and here he is..." She brought up an object in her hand and set it on the table.

Alice squinted down, trying to make sense of it. It looked a most curious ball. It was not completely smooth and round.

She gasped. "Crikey! It's the Witch Doctor's head!" She stared in horror at it—the eyes were sewn shut, and it looked slightly more wrinkly than it had been when it had been normal-sized, but there was the bone in his nose, just like the one she wore.

The Queen sniffed. "It seems to be, yes. I'm glad he taught me the whole head-shrinking business. It was a bit tricky, but I managed well enough."

"Why did you do that?"

"Because he mouthed off to me." She hit the shrunken head with her pool cue, and it rolled wobbily and hit the side of the triangle of balls with a thud. It obviously hadn't struck where the Queen had intended.

"Oh bollocks," the Queen of Hearts said as the balls lazily separated. "I'm afraid his head doesn't make a very good ball. I had to put lead on the inside to give him some heft." None of the balls had gone into a pocket. "But do the best you can my dear."

"Oh I shan't! He was my friend! He helped me!"

"He was a rude obnoxious jerk! Now you shall play, or you shall rue your disobedience. Now it is your turn! You must hit the cue ball."

Alice struggled to hold back her tears and calm her frantic breathing. "Yes, My Queen." She repositioned her crate then stood upon it again.

"Do you remember my lessons?" said the Queen.

Alice nodded meekly. Her lower lip trembled. She was thinking about the poor poor Witch Doctor.

"Go ahead, then, make your shot."

Alice looked down at the head, then looked away. She couldn't bear it.

The Queen encouraged while she pointed. "See that ball? You have a straight shot. Remember the poem?"

Alice nodded. Quietly she muttered:

"Strike it straight on when you're making your shot,

To make it roll in a path that's direct,

Or strike at an angle at just the right spot,

To make it twist just like you're snapping a neck!"

"That's right. Go on then..."

Alice closed her eyes and wildly poked the cue sticky thingy out. It struck the cue head and then she heard a ball roll into a pocket.

She opened her eyes. She'd hit the ball in!

"Wow, you did it! With your eyes closed and everything! It must be beginner's luck."

"Can I stop now, Your Highness? I don't like striking my former-friend's head. It seems somehow disrespectful."

"No, we can't let your lucky shot be the last of it, can we? I want to see you miss one. Why you're just an amateur. And here we'll see it proven." She pointed to the balls. "Now look where your cue ball head is positioned. Since you are now stripes, you must hit another stripe in, but look, the cue ball is against the edge there, see, and its way is blocked by all those solid balls. If you are to hit the stripe in, you must make the cue ball curve. Do you remember how?"

"Yes'm."

"Very well. Now move your crate. There is no way you shall make this shot. You haven't got the skill. But we must fail in order to eventually succeed, yeah?"

Alice set the crate down and stood on it. "Yes, My Queen." She positioned the pool stick.

"Remember from the rhyme?"

"Yes. Strike at an angle at just the right spot, to make it twist just like you're snapping a neck!" She closed her eyes and struck out wildly with her pool stick.

The stick connected with the miniature head—she heard a bunch of balls clacking and bouncing and dropping into baskets.

The Queen exclaimed, "Impossible!"

Alice opened her eyes to see that she had sunk every single striped ball into a pocket. The shrunken head was in the middle of the table upside down and facing away from Alice.

Alice giggled. "Wow, that was easy."

The Queen scowled and tromped over to Alice. "Give me that," she said as she yanked the pool cue from Alice's hand.

Alice yelped, "What?" in surprise.

"Your Highness does not wish to play this game anymore. Now begone with you. I'm tired of looking at your boney face!" In a huff, she grabbed up the shrunken head and stormed out of the room.

Alice sighed. She hoped she hadn't hurt the Queen's feelings by playing so well. She shrugged, then prepared to go about the rest of her rounds. She had a certain amount of creatures and people she had to visit each day. She hoped she could put a smile upon their faces, now that her dark thoughts had been stowed away.

Chapter 12 Mad Hatter

When Alice was 11

Alice was going about her daily rounds of ridicule and humiliation. She had just come from her session with the Tweedle twins. She had to keep telling herself the twins didn't know any better. It was a good thing that a couple years ago she'd stored all her hateful thoughts away in a voodoo doll, but slowly she'd been growing more dark thoughts, so she often had to remind herself to be nice to others.

Next up on her agenda was a visit with the Mad Hatter. He wasn't as cruel as many of the other citizens of Wonderland. Most of the time he merely liked to stare at her creepily. He'd requested that today she meet him at his hat workshop.

Alice had a bit of a soft spot for him. He was actually quite handsome and dashing in his exquisite hats, but he was also quite mad, from all the chemicals he used to make his hats, it was rumored.

She watched as the door of his workshop opened and the Mad Hatter came out, not wearing a hat on his head, but holding one in his hands, though. He looked more off his rocker than usual, in fact he looked outright raving mad. His eyes rolled about and his head lolled from side to side.

"Aaaliiicccee," he said. "I've been awaiting anxiously." He staggered toward her—he nearly stumbled.

"I say, Hatter, are you alright? You seem out of sorts."

He was standing in front of her now, blinking rapidly while twitching. She could see now that his face glistened with a heavy sweat. "My apologies for being quite more mad than usual, milady, but I've been working on a very special hat. It required such precise calculations, exotic techniques, and such concoctions and chemicals, why...they seem to have really affected me!" He waved his free hand and twitched.

She looked down into the top hat—she was staring at the inside of it, lined with soft felt. "Is that the hat?"

"Yes!" he shouted louder than necessary. "If I don't die, you shall wear it."

She thought he might be joking, but when she looked in his eyes, he seemed serious. "Oh no, Hatter. Really?"

He nodded gravely and twitched.

Tears welled up in Alice's eyes. "Oh, I don't want you to die!"

"I want you to cry into it!" he screamed, sounding terrified.

"What?"

"Now!" Roughly he grabbed the back of her head and slammed her face into the hat. Granted it was soft, but still she gasped. Some of her tears were flicked into it. "There, there," he said. "Yes, it shall all work now. I mustn't panic." Then he looked at her and his eyes went wide. "Ahhhh!!"

"What?!" She felt her face with her fingertips. "What is it?!"

He drew back and began looking madly about. "No! It's all in my mind!" He sobbed and whimpered. He was so out of sorts that he dropped the hat.

Alice rushed over to him. "Calm down. It'll be alright."

The Hatter's face was contorted in fear and he was shuddering all over. "Help me," he whimpered. His legs gave out and he fell and sat upon the ground.

Alice felt so horribly sorry for him. She placed a steadying hand upon his shoulder as she kneeled. "It's just the chemicals affecting your mind. Don't worry. You're safe."

"It's terrible! I don't think I can stand it! Please...please...help me." He looked at her with pitiful pleading eyes.

"How can I help?"

"Please," he said, sounding like a small child. "Please just hold me..."

So she wrapped her arms around him and held him close. "There there," she said softly. She cradled his head. "Shh, it'll be okay, sweetie."

He wrapped his arms around her and whimpered as the shudders shook through his frail body.

And she held him tighter.

She rocked him from side to side as his shudders and sobs lessened.

The Hatter was quiet now, breathing evenly as she held him.

Alice said, "I love you, Hatter."

He grunted.

"Do you love me?" she asked, feeling vulnerable.

"I think you're very pretty."

"But do you love me?"

He drew back and scowled. "Don't ask silly questions."

Alice's shoulders drooped and she pouted at him.

He said, "Sorry about my temporary attack of madness. I'm much better now." He was looking at the ground. "Now where's my hat?"

Alice put one fist on her hip. "So what's so special about that hat?"

He was dusting it off and grinning. "This hat, my girl, is a very special, magical hat specifically designed for you!"

Alice squealed. "Ooh! Is it a gift for me?!"

"I made it just for you!" He held it out to her. "Put it on, why don't you!"

Alice slipped the hat on, but it was much too big for her 11-year-old noggin and slipped down to cover her eyes. Yet she didn't want to hurt the Hatter's feelings, so she made no mention of it, though she couldn't see a thing. "Thank you!" she exclaimed as chipperly as she could muster.

She felt the Hatter tapping the top of the hat, which only further pushed it down upon her face—why, the tip was resting on the end of her nose!

"Hey!" she exclaimed. I shall soon have to mention the discrepancy of this hat's size! she thought.

"There," said the Hatter, muttering more to himself than to anyone, it seemed. "The magic has been activated and focused on you. Your tears activated the magic."

"What do you mean?" said Alice. "I'm sorry, but I can't see a thing."

"Oh yes, I apologize. The hat is obviously much too big for you. I regret that you shall have to give it back. I shall wear it instead."

"Give it back?!" She lifted the hat so that she could see, and so that she could glare at him. "But you only just now gifted it to me!"

"Yes, my apologies, but what are you to do with an oversized hat? No, you must give it back. And as you do so, I would like you to recite something. A little poem."

"What poem?" she said suspiciously.

"Listen carefully so that you can recite it. It must be repeated exactly. I would like you to say these words:

"I give you this, my tuned in hat,

Encharmed with what my tears begat,

By carrying this gift, heartfelt and true,

You carry part of me with you."

Alice's jaws dropped slightly as she heard the words. "I daresay, those words are quite specific! Why, they almost sound like a spell!"

"A spell?" He laughed unconvincingly. "Ridiculous! I, um... Oh, don't make such trouble for me! Can't you just do this one thing for me, since I went to all the trouble to make this special hat for you?!"

"But you're taking it back!"

Suddenly Alice was regretting having been given the hat at all!

"Please?" said the Hatter, and Alice felt a surge of what? Power? Opportunity? For she rarely heard the Hatter say the P word, so he must really want her to say his little poem.

She thought for a way she could take advantage of the situation. "I want another hug," she said.

"Pardon?"

"If I say those words, I want you to give me another hug."

The Hatter raised his finger and opened his mouth to protest, then shut his mouth. "Is that all?"

"Quite."

"Very well," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Promise?"

"Yes."

"And not a short hug, but one of a reasonable length of time."

"Fine!"

"Very well then," said Alice. She took the hat off. "I'm afraid I didn't memorize the little speech. You'll have to lead me along."

So the Hatter fed the lines to her as she handed the hat to him. They were both holding onto it as they recited the lines.

The Hatter broke into a big grin. "Ah, there we are!" He set the hat atop his head. "It's all sorted then!"

"Yes," said Alice. "All except..." She tilted her head and fixed him with a leering grin. "You're too tall, so get on your knees, too."

He muttered, "Fine." He went down on his knees then he opened his arms and then they were embracing each other.

Alice held on tight. She smushed her cheek against his as he squirmed uncomfortably.

"This is nice," she said. "Isn't this nice? Mmmmm."

"It's better than being poked with a hot stick," he agreed.

Alice rocked him a little, reveling in the sensation of him in her arms. "Tell me..." she ventured, "Do you love me?"

"Why do you keep asking me that?"

"Because you never truly answer."

"Am I required to tell you so?"

Alice said, "I don't want you to say it if you don't mean it."

"Very well."

"Do you love me, Hatter?"

"I am...not repulsed by you."

Alice grinned big and kissed his cheek. He squirmed some more. She held him tight, hoping to hold on to this moment as long as she could.

PART TWO

Malice in Wonderland #1

Chapter 13 The Thirteen of Hearts

Alice peers woefully out the window into the black-and-white squares of Wonderland. When she first arrived here, Wonderland followed the rules of chess, but things changed over the years to a confusing mish mash of broken rules with nonsensical rules piled on top.

It's one of the quiet parts of her days, when the guard card leaves her chained to her writing desk in her hut.

She turns over a card, sets it down onto one of the other cards.

Mumbling to herself, "I will lose again. Like always." Solitaire is a game one rarely wins, she thinks, just like life.

From the edge of her vision, she sees something in the window, causing her to raise her head. One of the male playing cards waves at her next to a scraggly tree in the distance. There are two kinds of cards in Wonderland—the small kind she plays games with and the person-sized ones with arms and legs and mouths. At first she assumes the card is the Queen of Heart's guard coming to unchain her before her unhappy unbirthday party, but no, it's a different card, one that seems to have holes in it. "Curious," she mumbles to herself, that being one of her favorite one word sentences.

Alice waves back from her desk while smiling huge, though she doesn't recognize the card. He seems to have two vertical lines of holes where symbols should be. She's never before seen a holey card. ( "Holey" as in "with holes" not as in "holy cow".)

Though she doesn't recognize him, she assumes it's best to pretend, because she doesn't want to risk offending him, because the citizens of Wonderland can get very cruel when offended.

Alice sighs and returns to her game as the strange card approaches. She hopes he's nice, or at least the amusements he seeks are not too vicious.

Soon, there is a knock at the door.

She shouts, "Come in! I'm a bit chained to my desk at the moment!"

The door opens, and there stands the large card, ogling her from the doorway.

She ogles back, for he is a most curious card, unlike any she's ever seen before. Because the light behind him shoots beams of light through the heart-shaped holes in his body that are lined up in two columns like an ordinary playing card. But there, centered above the columns is another cut-out heart, which is quite abnormal.

Quickly she counts the cut-out hearts. Six on the left, six on the right, plus the one on top...

The answer comes as a shout from the card, as if it's a playful race. "Thirteen!" he proclaims, raising his short arms up in the air and flourishing with a little hop. "I am the Thirteen of Hearts. Or, the twelvety-one of them, if you prefer."

Alice makes a wrinkly face. "How can you fit so many wrong things in such a short utterance?"

"Is that a riddle?" He clasps his hands together in front of him in a mocking sort of delight. "Here's one!" His eyes ping to the wooden seat she's chained to. "Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

She rolls her eyes, despite the fact she doesn't yet know how easily offended, and just how cruel he can be. Note, she doesn't wonder if he is cruel, but how much of that quality he possesses, for it has been her experience that most of the creatures of Wonderland are cruel now. They started out as pleasant or tolerable, but they've grown downright malicious over the past six years. They've quite forgotten the rules of civility, and even the rules of Wonderland, what little there were to begin with, it seems to her. One of the few exceptions iss the Jabberwock, who seems nice, but shy.

After she rolls her eyes, she says, "Yes I've heard that riddle before so many times, and I have so many answers, depending on the situation, because I've had so much time to think on it, chained here, you see. But let's not go to that right now. Let's go back to what you said. So many things are wrong with it, it makes me quite see red." She looks at him hopefully, hoping he will appreciate her flight of poetry. She's acquired a habit of rhyming whenever she can, being after all a (unwilling) citizen of Wonderland.

The card takes two steps into the hut, with its bed, and books laid page down on the ground, its stove in the far corner, its small dining table where they set her cakes during her unhappy unbirthday parties, its painting on the wall of Alice's parents.

The card takes two more steps, looks around, now at her, and says, "What's the second thing you dislike about what I said?"

Alice doesn't even bother to groan out loud and huff. All the creatures of Wonderland are just like this—so clever, whimsical, full of mischief. "The second thing," she says, "is that there is no such number as 'twelvety-one'. But the first thing is that you are quite lacking in hearts, so it is wrong to say you're the Thirteen of Hearts, because you have holes where hearts would be. You're actually heartless."

He says, "And who do you say you are?"

"I'm Alice. I don't believe we have met." She holds out her unchained hand—her left one. She happens to be left-handed.

The card shakes hands, then bows. "Nice to meet you. Yes, this is my first day of existence. I'm an entirely new card. Depending on which card game you're playing, if you were to draw me, why, I'd completely change the game! I am a surprise card you see. A wild card! More wild than the joker! I see that you are playing solitaire. Why, if you were to draw me, do you know what the rule would be?"

"Why no. As you say, you're new. I've never encountered a card such as you in a deck."

The card stands up straight and regally, and proclaims,

"If solitaire's the game that you draw me in,

Up into the air, toss five darts!

If one of them sticks in the ceiling, you win!

For I am the Thirteen of Hearts!"

In annoyance, she shouts, "Less!"

The card, looking somewhat deflated at Alice's lack of being impressed, says, "No, I assure you, I'm thirteen exactly. No more. No less."

"Well I'm thirteen too, more or less."

Now he peers at her body, as if she is the curious creature!

Alice, ignoring his rude eyes, says, "What I meant is you're not the Thirteen of Hearts, for you only have empty spaces where hearts would go! So as I said before, it's more accurate to say you're heartless!"

"Yes!" he shouts, with a big grin. Now another bow, this time with a twirly whirl of his arm as he bends downward.

"If me you are dealt when poker's the game,

Your opponents must fold then confess,

The one thing they feel is their own greatest shame,

Because I'm the Thirteen of Hearts...LESS!"

He twirls in a little circle, coming back around to face her.

Alice says, "No. No. Heartless. That's the proper way of pronouncing it."

The card rolls his eyes, crosses his arms. "That's not how you said it before. And why are you such an expert anyway? What exactly are you the thirteen of?" He leans forward slightly, staring at her body and black dress. "I see no marks on you. No spades, no diamonds, clubs...or hearts! No heartlesses either, I might add."

"Well," says Alice, "I'm not a card, I'm a girl, twelve years old you see, almost thirteen."

The card says, "Today's your birthday."

Alice gasps. "Why so it is! I had totally forgotten. Imagine that! How did you know it was my birthday?"

"Well, I was at the party. Weren't you invited?"

Alice pouts. "No, I wasn't. Who hosted it?"

"Why the Queen of Hearts, of course. She's the one who took all my hearts!"

"Ah, I see. I'm so sorry."

The card frowns. "Me too. Did she take your hearts too? I see none on you."

"Well, I don't have one on me."

"So you're a one of heartlesses?"

"No, I have a heart, but it's inside, so you can't see it right now. And I'm not sure your saying 'heartlesses' is correct, for heartlessness is not a thing but an absence of a thing, so I can't see how it can be plural."

The card makes big eyes and points to himself while waving his arm up and down. "You're obviously wrong, for look, I have thirteen heartlesses."

Alice rubs her chin. "Why, I see you do. Perhaps I'm incorrect. I wonder, if I got rid of my own heart, which has caused me so much pain, would I be a 'one of heartless'?"

"Heartless!" the card proclaims. "Why..."

Now he starts to dance a little, bending up and down, pumping an imaginary bicycle pump with his arms.

"Let's say you're dealt me, when it's blackjack you play,

And your age is before drinking starts, yes?

Well, you'll be 21 for exactly one day.

The power of Thirteen of Heartless!"

Alice scowls. "But what's that got to do with the game? Would I win or lose?"

"Why, what does it matter? You wouldn't care either way if it was the first time you imbibed. Have you ever gotten drunk?"

Alice narrows her eyes disapprovingly. She does her best to cross her arms, though they don't quite cross all the way due to her right arm still being chained to her desk. "I'm thirteen." She rolls her eyes.

The card mimics her posture, right down to the awkwardly angled right arm. "Of?..."

She sighs in frustration. "Nothing! I'm just a girl. I'm not a card like you."

He lowers his arms, looking genuinely perplexed. "But I recall you saying you were a one of hearts. Red or black?"

She thinks for a moment of correcting him once again, but instead ponders a bit, says woefully, "Black. I have a black heart. From living in this horrible place, all these years."

Now the card, taking his cue from her, seems woeful as well. "I'm sorry. But I doubt you have a black heart. You seem too nice. It must be terrible to be the 'one' of anything. I didn't even know the numbers went so low."

She lowers her arms. "Well, it is the average number of hearts to have for my sort, which is human girls. But let me tell you, this one heart of mine has been the source of such great misery, for it forces me to feel all that happens to me, and provides me only yearning and loneliness and sadness."

"Those are three things."

"Pardon?"

"You said 'only' then you listed three things."

Alice sighs. "You wouldn't understand. You're only a card. I say 'only' because they are empty things, you see. Oh, I wish I could be heartless like you."

The card hops, then twirls in midair. "Well, why don't you be? How hard can it be to get rid of your heart?" He does a little dance. "Why, you only have one, after all!"

Alice pouts. "But us girls need our hearts! We couldn't live without them."

"Ah, but this is Wonderland! Why, look at me! I am the Thirteen of Heartless! You should be like me! I break all the rules. I'm a renegade. I was created to make Wonderland more interesting, to shake things up, for I'm a wild card! Why, I can even show up anywhere in the deck I want to!"

"Isn't that cheating?"

"Absolutely!"

Alice bites her lip in frustration. She's heard of players of cards cheating, but not the actual cards themselves. "So who created you?"

"Why no one did! I'm your birthday present! I popped out of a big cake at your birthday party!"

"But that makes no sense. Who put you in the cake?"

"Why, no one did!"

"But you can't pop out of a cake unless you first go in!"

"Well that sounds like a rule, and I don't follow rules!"

Alice sighs. "Did the Queen have fun at my party?" Usually whenever anyone says, "the Queen", they are referring to the Queen of Hearts, because the Red Queen doesn't get mentioned as much, due to the fact that she's currently locked up in the Queen of Heart's dungeon.

The card says, "Yes, unfortunately. I'd just like to say it was rather rude for you not to show up for your own birthday party. Oh, but Queen had fun beheading people and creatures. 'Off with their heads!' she kept saying." He's scowling now.

Alice hates the Queen of Hearts, because she's responsible for so much of the misery in Alice's life. It is the Queen's guard who keeps Alice chained up, who forces her to go on her daily rounds—rounds in which the Tweedle twins like to make her cry so they can lick her tears, the Caterpillar makes her smoke from his hookah, and the Queen herself uses Alice's tears to make herself more beautiful. Alice says, "And what happened to your hearts?"

"I had to give them to the Queen, because she collects them. She's a thief who stole my hearts! I wish I could get back at her. But I must admit, it's so much more fun being heartless. Why, I can be ruthless and vicious, a cad, a renegade! And not care a whit, for I have not even one heart!"

"I envy you. My only one heart is quite a burden. I would like to try being heartless, but just for a little while. Can you help me?"

"Why certainly my dear! I'd love to make another heartless being like me, to help me get revenge on the Queen! And I think you may grow to like it, though you say only 'a little while'." He winks. "I shall simply make a rule!"

"But I thought you liked to break rules!"

He waves his hand dismissively. "Pish posh. Why my dear, whenever I make a new rule, I break the old rules. It's all the same."

Alice thinks about this. "Yes, I suppose that's true."

"So I shall simply make a rule that lets you take out your heart, and put it back in if you want!" He beams as if supremely proud of himself.

"You can simply make up rules? Pull them out of thin air?"

"Yes, like pulling a rabbit from a hat! Magic!" He makes razzle dazzle jazz hands.

The joy at possibly achieving her goal causes Alice to beam, herself. "So what's the rule?"

Now the card is waggling a finger. "Oh, no. There can be no rule unless the game is known. What card game do you propose?"

"Solitaire."

"There's already a rule for that, silly. I just recited it to you a few moments ago."

"Can't there be another one?"

"No! Only one rule per game. I thought that was obvious."

"Well it wasn't obvious to me, so no it wasn't. But how about Old Maid?"

"Already a rule. Would you like to hear it?"

"No thank you. How about Go Fish? Hearts? Um..."

"No there are already rules for those. I've been thinking of rules all day, and none of them have to do with you getting rid of your heart."

Alice is annoyed. "So why don't you tell me a game you don't have a rule for yet."

"Well, that would be difficult, for you see, I've made a rule for every card game I can think of, so in order to suggest one, I'd have to think of one I can't think of, which would be most difficult."

Alice thinks the creatures of Wonderland can be so very irritating, but she rarely does anything, because she is so nice. And she would definitely never do anything to hurt them, though she's often felt that if she could bring herself to harm some of her tormentors she might make a better life for herself, but then again, they might strike back, making things worse than before, so maybe not. Even so, she wants to try being heartless just a little while, but this card is not making things easy. Frustrated, she says, "Well, I say, this hat that you've been pulling rules out of seems to be quite empty!"

Now what she just said stirs something in her mind. She says, "What about the game of 'Tossing Cards in a Hat'?" She doesn't know if it counts as a card game, since it is more of a throwing game, and also, she doesn't have a hat, but even so, it would be a minor victory to think of something that the Thirteen of Heartless had not.

"Aha!" he says, lifting a finger in the air. "I had not thought of that."

"So there's no rule?"

"Of course not! But come now I shall make one.

"If you play someone who also may win,

And you toss me in a hat far away,

You can take out your heart, or put it back in.

For I'm the Thirteen of Heartless, I say!"

Alice is excited, tries to clap, but she is still chained. So now she kind of taps her right hand with her left. Now she remembers though—"But I haven't got a hat!"

"Well you need one to play."

"How about a different card game? One I can play now?"

"Oh, no, I won't waste all those rules just for you. You'll just have to find a hat."

And now they hear, coming through the walls on the right side of Alice, a bunch of yowling and hooting. They are coming, as they do every day at noon. They must have forgotten it's her birthday too. To the card she explains, "It's my surprise unhappy unbirthday party."

"You don't look very surprised."

"Well the surprise part comes in the various ways they torment me during each party. They try something new every day."

"Well why do you let them do that? Why, if it were me, I'd show them a thing or two."

"Because I'm not really a mean person. They say I wouldn't hurt a fly. They said that a month ago, when to prove it, they taped my wrists, covered me in glue and put a piece of raw meat on top of my head. You can imagine the result." She shudders.

The card laughs. "Yes, very funny! So shall we play toss me in a hat?"

"No, I haven't got a hat...but the Mad Hatter does. He'll be one of my guests. But I must say, you're a bit big for me to toss anyhow. You wouldn't fit in his hat."

"So I'll shrink!"

And with that, the card leaps and shrinks in midair to the size of one of Alice's hand-sized playing cards. It balances precariously on the edge of the desk for a second before she grabs it, gathers all the cards together, then slips the deck into a pocket of her black dress. Many dresses don't have pockets, but hers does, and the pockets have the amazing ability to hold huge amounts without causing a bulge.

She slips the deck in as her first guest appears in her doorway, without having to open it, for the door has remained open this whole time.

Chapter 14 Unhappy Unbirthday!

The first of them to walk in is Tweedledum, carrying the chocolate unbirthday cake—it's always the same flavor—with always twelve candles that could not be blown out, though they always made her try, while they laughed. Tweedledum says, "Unhappy unbirthday."

Tweedledee comes in next. He says, "Ditto." He's carrying a large rolled up piece of paper. Tweedledum and Tweedledee look like two chubby twin boys.

Humpty Dumpty enters next, as they all begin to sing. He has his razorblade he likes to cut Alice with. But thankfully he's not carrying the tape. She hates when he brings the tape.

"Unhappy unbirthday to you!" they all sing.

The March Hare comes in next while they sing, carrying the Dormouse, who is sound asleep, in his arms. The Dormouse looks kind of like a mouse with a furry tail, and he always seems to be sleeping.

"Unhappy unbirthday to you!"

Next through the door is the Mad Hatter, carrying two custard pies—one in each hand.

"Unhappy unirthday, pathetic Alice!"

Next comes the Three of Hearts. It's his job to unchain Alice every day so she can go on her appointed rounds. He doesn't follow her throughout the day though—she's allowed to go on her rounds by herself, because everyone knows Alice is trustworthy to a fault.

Behind the guard, squeezing through the doorway, galumphs the Jabberwock, the only one of them not singing. He has to stoop so as not to hit the ceiling—either he's somewhat too big for the room, or the room is somewhat too small. He's holding his vorpal sword in one of his clawed hands. She's heard that he guards one of the eighth squares where the Looking Glass House is located, and he only leaves to attend her parties every day.

"Unhappy unbirthday to you!"

The guard card uses his key to unlock her as Tweedledum sets the cake on the table. They never let her eat any of the cake. They always eat it themselves.

As Alice approaches the table, they all clap, except for the Jabberwock, who is standing apart at the end of the room. Watching. He always just watches. He's never mean, like the others. She often feels sorry for him, because she suspects he's forced to tag along due to peer pressure. And she suspects that, despite the rumors, he never stole the Queen of Heart's tarts—he just seems too nice to do a thing like that.

Humpty says, "Blow out the candles, or I'll cut you!" He slashes the blade through the air, almost striking the March Hare, who yelps. "Careful with that thing. You almost woke him," he says, referring to the Dormouse.

"Well you shouldn't stand in the way!" Humpty explains.

The Tweedle twins are now shouting, "Blow out the candles!" They snicker.

It is a tradition and expected of her, and she hates to disappoint. So she does what she does every single day and blows out the candles. There is a pause while the creatures watch, then the flames pop back up.

They all laugh at her.

Alice smiles and tries to appear gracious.

Tweedledee says, "Are you ready for your prize?" He unfurls a large paper cut-out replica of Alice. "Ta da!" He heads for one of the walls.

Alice announces, "However, today is not my unbirthday."

Humpty Dumpty shakes his head gravely. "You shouldn't start a sentence with 'however' unless you have a sentence stating something appropriate before, which would be the thing you're howevering. It's not grammatical. I should cut you."

"Sorry," Alice says, curtsying. "I mean to say, today is actually my birthday, so it's the wrong day for this party."

Various of the creatures say things, after gasping, such as:

"Is it true?"

"Whose fault is this?"

"How can it be?"

And, "How rude!"

"Inappropriate!"

"I'm very sorry," says Alice, but "I'm sure tomorrow will be my unbirthday again. We could have a surprise party then!"

The Mad Hatter puts on a most pitiful face, it brings such guilt to Alice. Woefully, he says, "But I was going to smash these pies in your face."

From the end of the room, Tweedledee says, "And we were going to play pin the tail on the Alice." He had set the paper replica of Alice on the wall without her noticing. "And everywhere we pinned the tail, we would actually stick you with a pin." He sighs. "It would have been so funny."

Next to him, Tweedledum says, "Ditto" in a sad sad voice.

Alice says, "Do you have a blindfold?"

Tweedledum says, "Of course not! How would we be able to see where we stick the pins?" He crosses his arms.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

The March Hare says to Alice, "Why didn't you say anything before?"

The Dormouse lifts his head, says, "I'm sorry, but I was taking a nap." He lowers his head again and closes his eyes.

Alice opens her mouth to speak, but the Mad Hatter interrupts her by saying, "Well, I suppose we should be leaving then! I take it you will be going on your usual rounds?"

Alice nods. "Yes, I expect so."

They all turn to leave, all except the guard, who must stay to inform her of her duties for the day.

Alice suddenly remembers a custom that may help her get access to the Mad Hatter's hat, though.

She shouts, "No, wait! My birthday wish! I'd like to ask it of you, Hatter."

They all turn back around again. The Hatter looks quite put out—he is still holding the two pies in his hands—they look rather precariously balanced and heavy after being held for so long.

Alice says, "But I want to let you win at a game!"

She's hoping the Hatter won't start asking too many questions.

Thankfully, his eyebrow twerks up. "Oh? I enjoy winning games. What kind of game?"

"Toss the Card in the Hat. As I said, I'll let you win and the winner, well, the winner gets to smash those pies in the loser's face. Please play wif me?" She gives her best big doe-eyed pathetic expression.

A predatory grin comes across his face. "Yes, that expression! Wear exactly that expression when I smash the pies in your face, won't you?"

She nods with a cute pout.

But some of the others are grumbling.

Tweedledum says, "Hey, how about us?"

Tweedledee says, "Don't we get to play?"

The Hatter shouts, "Silence! She's the birthday girl, and it is her wish to play with just me, because I'm special, right?"

Alice says, "Yes. Just the Hatter."

There is more groaning.

The Hatter says, "So what are the rules?" He sets the pies down. "Oh, my arms! I held those things this whole time!"

"Well, the rules are that the winner is the person who doesn't toss the card in the hat after the other player does. Do you think you can win at such a game?"

The Hatter stands thinking for several long moments, his eyes rolled toward the ceiling. He seems to be mouthing many of the words of the rules she'd stated. "Ah, I believe I have devised a brilliant strategy to win this game! Let us begin."

"Okay. I have a special card to play with. It has holes in it so it can fly through the air."

The Dormouse shouts, "Aerodynamic!" then promptly goes back to sleep.

"That's right," Alice says. "Who goes first?"

"Ladies first, because I am a gentleman," says the Hatter. He removes his top hat.

So Alice tries her best to toss the card into the hat. It barely misses.

The Hatter gives the card a meager fling then laughs. "I am the most clever hatter in Wonderland!" he proclaims. He is also the maddest. They say he's gone mad from all the mercury and chemicals he uses to make his hats—all the noxious substances make beautiful hats, but are quite toxic.

It takes several tries, but finally Alice manages to toss the card in the hat. "Well, guess I lose!" she says, before lifting the card from the hat.

The Hatter puts his own hat on, with a tap on the top.

Alice looks down discreetly to see that the card is glowing. Should I take my heart out now? But how?

"I've a surprise!" she shouts. "Everyone close your eyes! Keep them closed!"

While everyone closes their eyes, she presses her hand into her chest, which is a strange thing to do, and pulls out her heart. It looks like a cartoonish heart, colored bright red. There is no blood or pain, but that seems perfectly normal in Wonderland. "Wait, wait! I've almost got it ready. Don't open your eyes!" She quickly runs and puts the heart inside a wooden jewelry box. While she is doing so, she feels like Humpty Dumpty is peeking at her, but when she glances at him, his eyes are closed.

She goes back to stand by the table. In a panic she lifts the two pies and holds them toward the Mad Hatter. "Okay! Open your eyes! Ta da!"

The reactions are mixed. Some cheer and applaud, some boo and express disapproval. She admits, it's not much of a surprise, but it's the best she could think of.

What a bunch of decrepit characters, she thinks.

"Shall I pie you now?" says the Hatter.

Alice nods. Even though she doesn't want to, she thinks it would be best not to arouse suspicion, so she puts on her doe-eyed pathetic expression and she stands still and willing as the Hatter smashes not one, but two pies in her face.

Everyone laughs but her.

I wonder how the bastard would like a pie smashed in his face?

As she's wiping the custard from her face, the Hatter informs her that he has more pies waiting to use on her when next she visits him at the tea table.

They all begin leaving, except for the card guard. Alice waves. She doesn't say goodbye, because many of them expect her to visit them sometime during the day. The Tweedle twins wish her an "Unhappy birthday," which makes her want to strangle them, but she just grins and bears it.

Finally it is just her and the guard card in the room. It's the same card guard card as usual. He stays after each party to provide her list of scheduled duties, and he is a total idiot. She thinks it's maybe because he's only the number three, or maybe it's because he's so flat, and not much brain matter can be fit in such a flat surface. He has been the source of much of her sorrow, and she wants to get revenge.

The cake is still there, flickering with its candles, forgotten.

"Guard card," she says, cooingly. "It's my birthday, so I'd like you to do the customary thing and blow my candles out." She feels a thrill go through her. Never before has she been able to engage in the level of deception she intends in the next few moments.

"What? Why would I blow the candles out? It's your unhappy unbirthday!"

"Idiot! It's my birthday. Haven't you been paying attention? The rules are the opposite today. I don't blow the candles out, you do."

"I do? The Queen didn't mention anything about that. Besides, the candles are blowproof—they can't be blown out."

"Wow, how dumb are you? Must the Queen tell you everything? Everything is the opposite today. The candles are the opposite of unblowable, because it's my birthday, not my unbirthday. Wow, just how dumb are you?" Alice had never been so deceptive before. It's a good skill to have, she thinks.

The card says, "But I just saw you try to blow them out a while ago. They went out and came back again."

"Moron! That was a few moments ago! And that was me, not you. The candles can only be blown out by you, not me, because this is my birthday, and not my unbirthday! How dumb are you?" She hopes she is being sufficiently confusing. She fights the urge to chuckle.

She watches the card ponder what she said, or at least try to. He nods. "Okay." He leans down and blows the candles out. He grins at her.

The candles spring back into flame.

Alice shouts, "Idiot! You have to lean closer!"

"Closer? But—"

"Closer! Moron! Imbecile! Buffoon! Do it!"

The card leans closer than before, blows the candles out. He grins at her.

The candles burst back into flame.

"Closer closer closer! Do you not know the meaning of the word? Don't make me tell you again!"

This time the card leans very close indeed, but before he even has the chance to blow, he catches fire, and begins flailing about while screaming, but the flails only make the flames grow higher.

Alice merely watches while laughing and pointing at him.

The card now lies as an ashy burnt smoking remnant of the card, now quite dead.

She digs the keys to her chains from the ashes then slips the chains and keys in her pocket.

When she goes to the jewelry box, she finds that her heart is missing.

Someone has stolen it!

Her thoughts turn dark, filled with ideas of revenge.

No one steals something from me, unpunished! I'll find out who did it, and I will make their life, or death, pure hell!

And first on her list of suspects is Humpty Dumpty. Her mind fills with the delicious fantasy of chaining Humpty Dumpty and torturing him to punish him for stealing her heart.

Chapter 15 The Cheshire Cat

Tra la la la la la la.

She hops and skips wickedly.

Things are definitely different with me.

Why, just yesterday, my black dress symbolized my brooding melancholy and now it shows my malevolence and duplicity.

She's smugly satisfied with the words she had chosen—they were quite impressive in their number of syllables.

They show how much smarter I am than the average girl.

She stops when she hears the familiar purr in her right ear.

The Cheshire Cat.

"Kill yourself," he whispers, as usual. He swoops out to face her, floating in front of her.

He's a floating, grinning cat head with no body.

Alice tries her best not to glare him down evilly. She puts on the meek face she usually greets him with.

The Cheshire Cat says, "You've thought of my offer, I can tell."

Yes, his offer. His offer is this: he will provide her with a pistol, if only she agrees to shoot herself in the head with it.

She never accepted though and the cat knows if she ever did accept she would follow through, for all the creatures of Wonderland know she is incapable of lying.

That is, I was until today.

The pistol pops into view, floating, glowing in the air next to the cat's head. It is a single shot, flintlock pistol, with an ivory handle and a single lead ball bullet inside—a dueling pistol. "Why not take it?" he says.

She ignores his offer, offers instead, "I'm searching for something that was just stolen from me. Have you heard anything about it?"

"No, I've heard nothing. What was stolen?"

It's best for others to still think she's sweet and caring she thinks, so she says, "I don't want to say exactly what. I just want to know if you know anything about it? Do you know who might have it?"

He just grins that stupid grin. "You're teasing me. But I forgive you because you're so pretty."

Her shoulders slump. "Thank you."

"Awww. If I help you get this thing back, will you kill yourself as my reward?"

"Yes." She nods and nods eagerly. She'd never really lied before today. It feels somehow thrilling. Had she been missing this feeling all her life?

"Such a pretty girl, so pretty on the inside too. I would love to see your brains."

"Thank you." She decides to lie even more. "I tell you what, if you let me have the pistol, I promise I'll shoot myself very soon if I can't find the object I'm looking for. But if I do get the object back, I'll be so happy that I'll kill myself so I can die happy. So can I have the gun, pleeeeaaase?"

The cat looks at her suspiciously. "Well...why do you need it? I'll just give it to you when the time comes."

"Awwww Mister Puss Puss. Don't you trust me?"

Everyone trusts Alice, or the old one with her heart intact.

"Well, everyone knows you can't lie. It's a weakness of yours. As long as you promise me..."

She looks at him innocently and protrudes her bottom lip. "I pwomise, cross my heart and hope to die, I'll kill myself very soon, if you just give me the pistol."

He relaxes and his grin edges up again. "Okay, but promise not to do it without letting me watch okay?"

She gives him thumbs up. "Promise!"

The cat giggles. "I'm so glad you finally decided to give in. Here's the pistol. It's a single shot dueling pistol, so aim carefully so you don't miss." He laughs. "That's a little joke. I'm implying you have a tiny brain."

Alice smiles to keep from scowling. "Very funny."

"Yes, it was. Well, here you go."

He mouths her the pistol. "Now, I must be off, because I'm bored with talking to you. Oh, I get bored so easily."

He vanishes.

She slips the pistol into her dress. It could come in very handy for her mission.

Chapter 16 Tweedledum and Tweedledee

Alice is headed for Humpty's place, but the Tweedles' place is along the way. Even from quite a distance, she hears them bickering. She rolls her eyes

Hmmm, only one bullet in the gun. Perhaps if I lined them up properly...

She grins at the wicked thought. Before, whenever she thought of killing them, she would mentally scold herself. But now she enjoys the thought.

It might be easy to line them up, since they are so often mirroring each other's movements.

She'll take a slight detour, she decides, to visit the twins.

They're standing in a clearing beneath the shade of an oak tree.

As usual, they're circling a toy rattle on the ground, grimacing and taunting each other. The squabble has gone on for quite a number of years, ever since the Queen of Hearts rewarded them a brand new rattle for helping her defeat the Red Queen.

Tweedledum glares at his brother and proclaims, "Mine!"

"Nohow!" says Tweedledee.

They continue circling and seem not to notice Alice as she takes the pistol out from her dress.

She takes a stance in the way she remembers from detective stories as a younger child.

She braces one hand with the other and does her best to aim with the little shark fin thingy on the edge of the bullet tube part.

But she encounters several problems. For one, she is not tall enough to get a clear head shot of either one of them, and her lack of height makes a double head shot impossible, due to the working of angles. She has studied angles a great deal, and knows that out of all of them, none of them would work, at least not without a ricochet.

Also, they are moving so rapidly, round and round in a circle, that it's difficult to get any kind of clear shot, inexperienced as she is.

Perhaps she could aim for one of their hearts. As far as she knows, even though they are both vicious and cruel to her, they both have hearts. But pulling that kind of shot off seems difficult indeed. And maybe they don't even have hearts after all.

She begins to realize her situation is dire and dreadful. Even if she manages to kill one of them, she would afterward be unarmed and suffer the wrath of the other, and that would not be a fair fight—she's just a little girl.

She thinks she'll put the gun away. Perhaps she can slip away without being noticed. They haven't noticed her this whole time standing here, pointing a gun at them, after all.

She begins to lower the gun. She notices her hands are trembling from fear. It appears being heartless doesn't mean you don't get afraid.

But Tweedledum notices her, stops circling, points. "Well look at that! It's Alice!"

Now Tweedledee stops and turns to look at her. "Well, ditto! It is! And she has a toy pistol!"

Thank goodness he thinks it's a toy. "Yes..." She musters up a grin on her face. "A toy! I brought you a new toy!"

Tweedledum says, "Well give it over. I know how to use it. Better than him."

Alice doubts that statement. They both seem generally bumbling and incompetent to her.

Tweedledee protests, "Nohow! I'm a cowboy I am!" He grabs his belt and does the side to side cowboy hop. "Yee haw!"

Tweedledum grunts. "Yeehaw! He's no cowboy, nohow, no way. Why I'm a sharpshooter. Cool and professional. A sharpshooter you see, remains calm and collected and never says yeehaw...unless it's to mock, which I just did right then. So give the gun to me and ignore this yahoo."

"Nohow!" Tweedledee protests.

Alice does her best to steady her nerves.

She doesn't know how she is going to get out of this most troubling predicament. She opts to distract them for a few moments. "Patience! First thing's first, I'm searching for something that got stolen from me. By Humpty Dumpty, I suspect."

Now they are nodding at her, both saying "Ditto. We saw the idiot doing it."

"Well why didn't you stop him?"

Tweedledum shrugs. "Why would we? He was only stealing from you."

Alice fights back the urge to put a bullet right into the middle of his pudgy, scrunchy face.

Tweedledee says, "Ditto on that. You're so unimportant, it doesn't matter. What did he steal anyway? We didn't see."

Tweedledum says, "Ditto to not seeing."

Her voice quivers with rage. "He stole my heart!"

They both stand looking a bit perplexed, then dumbfounded, then at exactly the same time, they burst out laughing. "Is that all? So you're heartless now, is that it?"

With a look of indignation, she nods.

Tweedledum says, "So are you no longer the goody two shoes?"

"Yeah, no longer a doormat? Are you going to get revenge on us, is that it?"

She shrugs.

"Ditto! Revenge of the little girl!" More laughter.

Their faces suddenly turn mean. "Just know, that if you try anything, it's..." At the same time, they both make the gesture of slicing the throat with the accompanying sound.

"If you're lucky we'll kill you. If not, we'll torture you, or tell the Queen and she'll torture you and she's much more imaginative than us."

"Ditto. She's like an artist of torture."

They glare at her and cross their arms, daring her to speak.

"You already torture me."

She's referring to the twins' playtime she's forced to engage in. They have set times each day when she must visit them. They like to make her kneel and then either slap her or tickle her until she cries. Before she came to Wonderland, she never knew that tickling could be a source of such misery. And while they do these things to her, she has to remain as still as possible, until the tears come. Then the twins like to lick her tears, each one licking from one of her eyes. The twins think they're delicious and also believe the rumor that her tears are magical, as does the Queen, who likes to spritz her face with them as a beauty treatment.

Tweedledum says, "We merely have a little fun. We haven't really tried to hurt you."

"Ditto. So don't get any ideas in your head."

Alice swallows nervously. She's starting to realize that maybe it hadn't been the best idea to tell them her heart had been stolen. But she is so unused to being deceptive. If she had just acted like she was the usual Alice, maybe this conversation wouldn't be happening.

She decides to play it meek. "Okay, I'm not going to try anything. I'll be good." She doesn't want to draw the wrath of the Queen or the twins.

"Very good. A well behaved girl is something to treasure. So let's test how obedient you are."

Alice sounds resigned. "Shall it be tickling or slapping this time?"

"Neither nohow. This time we'll do a little hair-tugging and shaking."

"Yes, we'll put your hair in pigtails and tug them until you cry!"

"Okay," Alice says, "just please show a little mercy, and I'll do whatever you want."

Tweedledee says, "You better, or suffer a spanking."

"Whap whap!" says Tweedledum.

She lowers her head meekly. "But before that, if I may ask a quick question. When Humpty Dumpty left the party, I didn't see the heart on him. Did he take it with him? I'd very much like to get it back, you see."

They both shrug. "We don't know, maybe he put it inside himself!"

The other brother laughs at the idea. "Why, he could make a heartegg omelet! Get it? It's like 'heartache'!"

"There's not much to get," says the other brother.

Alice says, "What is inside of Humpty Dumpty in actuality? He always claims he is most definitely not an egg." She has never before given the idea serious thought, because in the past, whenever she would think of Humpty's insides, it would be accompanied by fantasies of him falling off his wall and dying so he would no longer be able to torment her. But the thoughts troubled her so, that she tried to put them out of her mind. Until now.

Tweedledee says, "Well whether he is or is not an egg is a subject of debate, but inside, if you were ever to actually look, you would not find any egg material."

Alice says, "What a curious answer. What do you mean? Do you know for certain what's inside him?"

Tweedledee says, "We do now. See I used to assume that there were eggs inside him as well, but you can't always judge someone's insides by what you see on the exterior."

Tweedledum says, "Yes, yes, sometimes when you look too hard inside others, you only end up seeing yourself."

Alice was having a hard time understanding these puzzling statements. "Are we still talking about Humpty Dumpty? So he doesn't have egg inside?"

"No, of course not. Didn't I already say that?" Tweedledee says. "I know because I found out first hand."

Alice's eyes go wide in wonder. "How come you never told me?"

"You never asked. Have you never heard our poem? It is a wonderful poem. You should have asked earlier."

She shakes her head. "Yes, well before, I found it too unpleasant to think about!"

"Okay, in any case, here's the poem.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

But it turns out that fall, it was more of a shove,

To make a cheese omelet, a dish we both love.

Beware though, if from him, a meal you will make,

You must check the yolk. There is so much at stake!

For if you just rush, and don't stop for a minute,

You'll end up with too much of your own self within it.

See, Tweedle him and Tweedle me,

We learned this lesson personally,

And had to sort and glue what the one had broken,

While the other one had not yet woken.

And just as the poem comes to a close, she feels the other brother grab her arm from behind. She hadn't been paying attention and he had snuck up behind her.

He puts pulls her arm while making a grab for the pistol. But Alice squirms away. "Keep away!" she shouts. She runs a few steps, stops.

"I want that pistol!" Tweedledum shouts as he comes toward her.

Tweedledee shouts, "Ditto!"

Alice shouts, "Well, then fetch!" She tosses the pistol to the ground, in what she judges to be an equal distance between either twin.

The twins look at each other, then at the same time, run toward the gun.

They manage to each knock the other over, in front of the pistol. Then they begin taunting and grimacing again, circling the pistol.

"Mine!" shouts Tweedledee.

"Quite to the contrary! It is mine." Tweedledum shouts back.

As the two squabble over the pistol, circling it now while snarling at each other, with their hands crinkled out like they're about to start a wrestling match, Alice grabs the rattle and slips it into her dress pocket.

Wretched thing! If they can't decide between themselves who shall play with it then it shall be neither! For shame, it is but a child's toy anyhow!

They don't seem to notice as she slips away.

Chapter 17 Humpty Dumpty

Alice holds the rattle to her ear, and gives it a shake with a demoniacal grin.

Perhaps it might have amused me a while when I first got here at the tender age of seven, but it'is nothing to me now that I'm thirteen. It's hardly a trifle worthy of fighting over, but the Tweedles have always been rather simple. Perhaps one will end up shooting the other with the pistol. Good riddance. I would have found it most difficult to kill them both at once, and if I killed only one, the other would surely seek revenge.

Her next stop is Humpty Dumpty's wall. It isn't far from where the Tweedles dwell.

As she approaches, she can hear him singing to himself, over and over to himself.

"I'm Humpty Dumpty, here on my wall!

I'm Humpty Dumpty, and I cannot fall!"

Soon, she is standing in front of him.

There he is sitting on his very narrow, really quite low wall. (It's only three bricks thick, three feet wide, and only a few inches taller than Alice herself.) He used to have a higher and wider one, but the Queen took it away and gave him this one after he offended her in some way a few years ago.

Alice waves hyperactively at him, with a goofy grin on her face. "Hello egghead!"

She'd only ever called him that once, as a sort of joke when she was eight. He'd laughed along with her, asked her to come closer, then surprised her with a kick to her face that bloodied her nose and knocked her backward onto her rear.

Do you remember, Humpty-so-grumpy?

"What is this?" he asks, then chuckles a little. Now he laughs, now he outright guffaws with thundering belly laughs, teetering back and forth precariously on his very narrow wall. And for a moment Alice is filled with hope that he will fall, but of course he never does. "That's funny!" he shouts. "But you know what's even funnier? Come closer, child, and I shall tell you!"

Alice puts on a darling girl smile, sweet as can be, with dimples and all. She twirls and curtsies, raising the bottom edge of her black dress. "No thank you. No offense, right? I'm just joking with you."

But Humpty Dumpty, she knows, is a very non-joking sort. He's quite vicious and cruel. The great curve of his smile turns immediately to an upside-down frown.

"Ptooey!" He spits a piece of gum at her, but she dodges aside. If she had not, it would have gone in her hair, just like the unhappy unbirthday party a few months ago, when some one had spit a piece of gum in the back of her head. When she'd turned around they'd all denied it, laughing. She'd always suspected it had been Humpty.

But she has more pressing matters to attend to rather than bringing that up again.

He shakes his fist at her while scowling. "Why you little brat! I should spank you! Get onto my lap and take your punishment!"

He only wants me to go up there because he won't come down here. He only ever leaves that wall to attend my unhappy unbirthday parties.

She shouts, "Only if you give my heart back!" She isn't sure he took it, because the Tweedles might have lied about it, but perhaps she can trick him into confessing.

He chuckles, smiling big again. "Why, my dear brat, I haven't got it on me. Can't you see?" He spreads wide his arms. "You know everything I have I either carry with me or set against my wall..."

It's true. Humpty requires few possessions. Indeed, he can't have too many because he spends all his time on his wall and can only carry so much on him. He also sets a few possessions at the base of his wall, but those possessions are very few indeed. But she can't see the other side of the wall right now...

Again, Alice tries pretending to know more than she actually does. "But I saw you take it!"

"Did you now? Well, if I did, maybe I gave it away!"

"To who?"

"To whom. Mind your grammar."

"To whom?"

"None of your business."

Alice scowls and puts one arm akimbo. "It certainly is my business! It was my heart!"

"Finders keepers."

"You didn't find it. You stole it."

"You seem to be doing fine without it. Why it's like an appendix! Completely unnecessary!"

She narrows her eyes. "Do you have one?"

"An appendix? Of course not. I'm not a book!"

"No, a heart."

"Your heart? No, I told you already."

She argghs in frustration. "No, a heart inside you."

"What do you think?"

She thinks maybe he doesn't have a heart at all—maybe none of the citizens of Wonderland do—that's what makes them so vicious. And now that I'm like them, I can use that to my advantage.

She says, "How do I know you're not lying about my heart? Maybe it's around here somewhere." She peers around and starts to circle the little wall. It's indeed little, barely wide enough to fit Humpty's bottom. It's a wall that blocks or guards nothing at all.

As she walks, he mockingly laughs at her. He laughs so hard that his huge saucer eyes begin to tear up.

"Look all you want, little girl! Why would I even bother lying to you! Why, you wouldn't do anything about it no matter what I do. You wouldn't hurt a fly!" He's mocking her, reminding her of the prank he had played on her—with the meat and flies.

Her eyes go wide as on the other side of the wall, she sees the roll of tape resting at the base—the tape he uses to bind her wrists while tormenting her.

"Ah, so you remember the tape? Why it's only one of the two world possessions I need. I only need toys to play with you with. I have no use for your heart! But perhaps if you're good and play with me, I'll help you get it back."

She shoots hatred at him with her eyes. "Why would you want that?" Meanwhile, she's thinking, He mentioned another possession but I don't see it anywhere...

He says, "Those with hearts suffer more. More fun to play with. And I must say, ever since you've lost yours, you seem much more disobedient. In need of some punishment. Oh, how I love to punish you!"

At this point, Alice has circled back around where she began, facing up at the egg-shaped man sitting atop his perch.

She says, defiantly, "Now that I have no heart, perhaps you should be afraid. I might strike back now, be ruthless."

"Poppycock, brat! I'm still stronger than you and the weak succumb to the mighty." And here he raises his arms in the air like a victorious gladiator—and a glint of metal flashes in his hand—she focuses her eyes and realizes it's the razorblade.

"Yes!" he says. "This is the second possession. It is the very same one. The same one I cut you with at your unhappy unbirthday party, do you remember?"

"I remember. I had the sniffles, so you offered to help me by bleeding me. That was kind of you. It cured me. It made me think perhaps you weren't so bad."

He laughs. "You idiot! Bloodletting doesn't do anything for a cold. I tricked you! Are you really so dense? You willingly let me slice you! All the other fellows and I had a great laugh at that behind your back. We were just waiting for the perfect moment to reveal it to you. It's all about timing don't you know."

Her face shows shock and outrage, but before she realizes and tries to hide it, it's already too late—he's seen.

He laughs at her. "A priceless expression. Worthy of a portrait. So what are you going to do, now that you're heartless? Are you thinking you'll topple me? Is that it?" He quickly slices the blade through the air then calls out:

"I'm Humpty Dumpty, here on my wall!

I'm Humpty Dumpty, and I cannot fall!

I'll kick you and slice you and kill you and more!

And when it all ends, you'll be covered in gore!"

Alice feels such hatred come over her towards him—she had felt it before, when she had a heart, but she had never acted on it—because she couldn't bring herself to harm another. It was much nobler, she had felt, to suffer in humility. She felt she would be rewarded in the end, for there was the saying—the meek shall inherit the earth. And she had been as meek as she could possibly manage. And she used to try to be so trusting of others.

But now that she is heartless, she is much less naive and she almost expects everyone to be deceitful, for she now realizes there is so much advantage in it. Why should she believe a word this egghead says? Perhaps he had grown curious and taken the heart as his own. She wouldn't put it past him. She wouldn't put anything past anyone. And she now marvels at her old self—how could I have been so naive before, thinking perhaps everyone had good motives, that everyone has a good side to them, even though it may perhaps be buried deep. When the truth is there is much to be gained from being heartless, immoral.

She says to him, "You know, when I asked if you had a heart inside you, you asked, 'What do you think?' You never said no."

He waves his razorblade brandishing hand. "Technicalities. Pish posh. Haberdash."

"So I'll tell you what I think. I think I don't know what to think. I know you say you're not an egg, but you sure look like an egg. And whatever you are, you could certainly fit a lot of things inside you. And just a short while ago, the Tweedles recited to me a most curious poem. About when one of them broke you open. Do you know it?"

The egg-shaped man grimaces. "That I do."

"There is a particular couplet I find most intriguing. Do you know the one?"

He grins ferociously. "Why don't you tell me, earless girl." He points with the razorblade.

With a fright, she lifts her hands to her ears, feels them still there. She scowls at him, sure her face must be scrunching up severely.

Humpty says, "Sorry. Just practicing calling you that. You were speaking of the poem."

She nods, lowers her hands that form fists. "'If you just rush, and don't stop for a minute, you'll end up with too much of your own self within it.' They wouldn't explain. It seems to imply that if someone like me broke you open and tried to cook the insides, I'd 'put too much of my own self in it.' It might be a play on words, or perhaps you literally have a part of myself inside you. Like my heart." She glares at him suspiciously.

He glares at her. "Is that what you think?"

She decides to taunt him, before her next planned move, which is to topple him. It looks like it would barely take a nudge. "Which one pushed you over? Tweedle dee or dum? It only took one? Did the other sit and watch and laugh and point?"

Indignantly, "Why, the other one wasn't there yet!"

Alice fights to keep from grinning. She had tricked him into revealing more than he had intended. She could get used to this being deceptive without a heart thing. But no! I have to get my heart back! I mustn't lose sight of that fact, even if I start forgetting the reasons why...

She looks at him in a pitying expression, "And yet, still, it only took one? Is it because you're egg shaped?"

"He just caught me off guard is all! But that was a long time ago. I've been practicing my balance. It would take a hurricane to knock me off now. A hurricane! And you, little girl, though you blow hot air, are not one." And he crosses his arms.

Alice decides to lie again, just to see if she can tease more information out of him. "So they said, that after they both broke you, they made a scrumptious omelet. Bacon, cheese, and ham! Yummy!"

His cheeks flare red. Why if he were an egg, he might be hard boiling himself right now, she thinks with a giggle.

"Lies! I cannot stand a liar! I hope those two do end up killing each other over that rattle!" He crosses his arms, harumphs.

"Oh I bet you can't name one lie in what they said. I think they're quite honest."

He scooches his head slightly to the side, disdainful. "First of all, I am not an egg! So they made no omelet! That's a bald faced lie! And second, it wasn't the both of them that broke me. Why the other one had not even been born yet!"

"What do you mean, not born yet?

He clamps his mouth. "You ask too many questions!"

"So it only took one of them to topple you!" Mocking laugh.

"It's not like that! I was caught off guard from my usual superb balance. There was a snake."

"A snake?"

"Yes, I'm deathly afraid of snakes. Snakes like to eat eggs you see, even though I'm not one. An egg, that is. The snake gave me such a fright that I lost my superb balance a bit, and Tweedledee nudged me over, and well, I had a great fall."

"Boom! Crash!" She jumps to add drama, making clawing hands.

Humpty Dumpty leans back in surprise, teetering a little, but doesn't quite completely lose balance.

She sneers. "So did you land sunnyside up?"

"I tell you I'm not an egg!"

"So what was inside?"

"You've irritated me so much, now I won't tell."

She peers at him. "It seems maybe you could store things inside, to hide things away."

"We all hide things away."

"So what is inside you?"

"You want to know what's inside? I'll tell you:

Oh, I am just like you within,

Just like a heartless Alice.

Just like your dark and hateful twin,

Who's brought to birth by malice.

That dark and hateful twin who shows

Inside the glass reflection.

Who with time only stronger grows,

From all your imperfection.

We all have that dark twin of us,

Who gazes from the mirror,

Who threatens to replace us,

As darkness edges nearer.

'Where's my old self?' one day you'll say,

As you gaze into the glass.

The dark twin now is here to stay,

And your old self's gone and past.

Maybe he's hiding my heart inside him, maybe he's not. Either way, he deserves to die.

She charges him—as she runs, the rattle sounds—she slams her palm under Humpty's mouth. As she pushes with all her might, the rattle sounds again.

Humpty sways backward precariously but doesn't fall—he slashes out with the razorblade and Alice instinctively jumps back.

Humpty is looking around with worried eyes. "What was that sound? Did you hear it?"

Alice doesn't know what he's talking about. Now she feels the trickle of liquid rolling down her cheek. She touches her face. She sees red blood on her fingertips. She won't know how bad she's cut until she can get to a mirror.

Humpty's glaring at her. "You've got a little boo boo." He licks the side of the razorblade.

Alice doesn't want to risk any more injury. If I leave him there, he won't follow me. He never leaves that wall except for my unhappy unbirthday parties, but I'll have to worry about that later.

Now something nags at the back of her brain. The rattle. Could it be he'd thought it was a snake?

She gasps and points at the base of the wall. "What was that? I thought I saw a rattlesnake!" She hopes her acting is convincing enough.

In a shrill voice he says, "What, a snake? You lie! Where?"

Alice approaches the wall with a look of grave concern, with her hand crinkled against her mouth. "I—I think it slithered to the other side, behind you!"

"What?"

Alice watches Humpty's eyes. He turns slightly to look and when he's no longer watching her, she reaches into her dress pocket and gives the rattle a jostle.

Humpty shrieks, panic on his face. He quickly turns to face Alice, begins swiveling, looking around. "Where is it? Kill it!"

"There!" She points to her left, where he's not looking. As he turns to look he seems very careless in his balance and teeters quite dangerously.

While he's looking she runs to the other side of the wall and shakes the rattle.

"Eeek!" he shrieks and lurches around to look, wobbles precariously and almost topples forward. He barely saves himself by windmilling his arms.

Alice briefly considers pulling him forward to topple him but she still fears getting cut.

She shrieks, points. "There behind you!" She doesn't explain how unlikely it would be for a snake to be floating in midair, which is where she is pointing.

Humpty roars while twirling, lashing out with his blade. He's quite off balance now, he almost fell just then.

And now Alice roars as she shoves him with both hands and he screams as he falls off. She hears a cracking crunch sound from the other side of the wall, then the sound of eggshell parts settling.

She proclaimes:

"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.

Humpty Dumpty said, "I can't fall!"

But he got so afraid from just a toy's sound,

That he lost his safe seat, and slammed into the ground!"

Chapter 18 Malice

She rushes to look. She sees no yolk or egg white, though she sees many bits of broken egg shells on the ground, and here and there are different parts of Humpty's facial features. And she sees a young girl, partially covered in egg shell bits. The girl's in an odd position—she's upside down balancing on the back of her neck, her body bent with her legs flung over and bent so that her feet rest on the ground.

Alice gasps. "Oh, dear! Are you okay?"

"I don't know. It's kind of hard to tell in this odd position. Are you gonna just stand there?" She wiggles her hand a little bit.

"Oh, I'm sorry! Where are my manners?" Alice helps the girl right herself.

The girl sits on the ground amongst the debris, patting eggshells off herself. The girl looks just like Alice!

Alice shouts, "Why you look just like me!"

"Do I?"

"Why yes, with the very same clothing! And..." Here she points at the clean straight slash upon the girl's left cheek, which had left a small streak of blood. "You have a cut on your cheek, just like me! Only yours is on your left cheek!"

The girl lifts her hand up to her cheek and gasps when she sees the blood on her fingers.

Alice notices that the girl uses her right hand, so she asks, "Are you right handed? I'm left."

The girl says, "Well, I suppose I am, right handed that is."

"Why it's like you're the mirror image of me! I'm Alice. What's your name?"

"I am..." She ponders for a moment, her eyes moving to gaze upward. Her mouth switches between rising on one side then the other. Alice recognizes it as something she does herself. The girl says, "I don't know!"

"Where did you come from? Do you remember being inside the egg?"

"I don't know, and no!"

Alice asks, "Remember being cut with a razorblade?"

"No, I remember nothing! All I know is the past few moments."

"Oh, dear. Well you're the only person I know who was born from out an egg! But, first thing first, you need a name I should think, so we can be told apart!"

"Okay," says the girl. "I want your name."

Alice tries to take on a patient tone, as if she were lecturing someone. "Oh no, I had it first. But...I have an idea. You came from an egg-shaped man who claimed not to be an egg. But that's beside the point. He recited a poem to me before he fell. His poem spoke of a twin 'brought to birth by malice'. I'm not quite sure if you have much malice, but it rhymes with Alice in any case and seems a fine name to me! What do you say? Do you like it?"

"Yes," says the girl with a smile that Alice finds both alluring and creepy at the same time, "that suits me just fine."

Alice helps Malice to stand.

During the next moments, they talk and Alice gathers the tape, razorblade and rattle up and puts the items in her pockets. Alice does her best to explain things to Malice in a brief manner. Alice is sure she must have forgotten to mention at least one important detail, but she wants to continue with her mission to regain her heart. She has no intention whatsoever of trying to put Humpty Dumpty together again, because the guy was a sadist and she's glad he's broken, even though the old Alice with a heart might have felt much guilt.

When the subject turns to hearts, it's soon found that Malice is heartless as well, for none beats in her chest.

"Oh dear," says Alice. "Why, whenever we do regain my heart, there will be only one of them between us! Perhaps if we shared?"

But Malice waves that off. "Let's not worry about that right now. Besides, from what you told me, having a heart seems like such a burden. I would think it might be better to go without one!"

Alice doesn't have a good answer to that, because she feels the same, but the fact of the matter is that some of her property has been stolen from her, and she can not abide the insult. She will do whatever is necessary to recover her rightful property. And who knows, maybe afterwards, she'll realize how great having a heart can be.

"Come," Alice says, "Let us now go back to the Tweedles. I'm hoping by now, one has killed the other. If they're still alive, though, don't give them too much information. And for that matter, don't let anyone know that we're heartless, for we can use their ignorance to our advantage. I realize that now."

A few minutes later, they stop walking as they see, appearing above the ground in front of them, a feline grin.

Alice says, "It's the Cheshire Cat. Watch, and soon his head will appear."

Moments later, the cat's eyes appear, then the rest of his head. To Alice, he says, "Not only are you not dead, but you've doubled since before."

Alice says, "I'm so sorry. It's just that I haven't had time to kill myself. It's just that I have odds and ends to take care of, you see."

"Well, I can be patient, but I can't wait all my last life!" He chuckles, now he shifts attention to Malice. "Greetings. Who might you be?"

"Malice." She looks confused for a moment before curtseying with her black dress.

The cat says, "Well you two are like mirror images of each other." He speaks even as he grins that huge grin of his. "Twice the fun. Imagine. A double suicide! Wonderland's first!"

Malice opens her mouth to speak, but Alice cuts her off, saying, "Yes, Malice wants to kill herself too. In fact we've signed a suicide pact. It'll be very soon and you can watch!"

The cat says, "Yessss...I want to watch. Will you cry first? Yummy yummy." He licks his lips. Everyone thinks Alice's tears are magical and delicious, but she wonders if that's still true now that she's heartless.

Alice uses a cooing, purring. "Yes, we'll cry our delicious tears. We'll even let you lick them, because you're going to help us both escape this horrible world."

"Yessss." The cat purrs. "Lick your sweet innocent faces, taste the tears of your sweet sorrow mmmm."

Alice cocks her head to the side flirtatiously. "Yes, there's only one problem, though. The gun you gave me only has one shot. It's a dueling pistol. We need another one if we're going to both blow our brains out."

"Yesss, yesss. I see. And you both promise to kill yourselves and let me watch? Soon?" His voice sounds whiny, pouty.

Everyone in Wonderland knows that Alice would rather die than break a promise. That was the old Alice with a heart, though. But so long as he didn't know that she and Malice were heartless, she'd use the deception to her advantage.

Alice says, "I pwomise." Ending with a cutesy pout. She looks over at Malice.

"And I pwomise too, Mister Cat!" She places her finger to the edge of her mouth then shifts her eyes to look upward and to the side.

The cat says, "Okay, just so long as you don't go shooting yourselves without me. But the most I can manage is the other dueling pistol in the set. These things don't grow on trees you know. So don't become triplets. Hold on while I fetch it, and I must insist that afterward you refrain from speaking, as I have a lunch date I must attend to. Hold on..." and the cat begins to disappear, in this order: outside, then eyes, then mouth, then reappears in the opposite order, but this time, his grinning mouth holds an ivory handled pistol. When his head again fully appears, (He, as usual, neglects his body.) He gives the pistol to Malice

"Sorry," he says, "no time to waste. Remember, no shooting without me, my doppletwinners! But I must go capture lunch!" He begins to disappear.

Alice sees this as a wonderful opportunity to shoot the cat a question by surprise before he has time to think. She must hurry, because if she shouts after his ears disappear he won't hear her. She shouts, "Just curious. If one of us became heartless, how would our tears taste?"

The outer edge of the cat's head vanishes, but his mouth says, "Why they'd taste like burning because they'd be acid! Why do you—" But now he's disappeared.

What Alice had suspected is true, it seems.

Malice is testing the heft of the pistol. "Instead of killing ourselves, why don't we kill that stupid cat? Pow! Right between the eyes! I wonder if he'll stop grinning before he dies."

Alice smiles at the thought but then shakes her head. "He'd probably just disappear before we could shoot him. The Queen of Hearts keeps trying to kill him. She's succeeded several times already. But that's why, now, he only shows his head, because if he has no body, he can't be beheaded."

Malice says, "Well that's a shame. So what are we to do with this pistol?"

"You haven't met the Tweedles yet. I have an idea. Just follow my lead, okay?"

"You got it, twin!"

Chapter 19 Return to the Tweedles

Soon, they arrive at the the Tweedles' tree.

Alice curses silently to herself as she sees that the two brothers are still alive, circling around the pistol on the ground, glaring at each other.

"Mine!" says Tweedledee.

"Contrariwise!" shouts the other.

They are so engrossed in their spat that they fail to notice Alice and Malice.

How can they not see us? Alice thinks. What a bunch of morons. If they can't help me get my heart back, then they will both die for what they did to me. Good thing I have Malice as my backup.

She motions Malice over, and together they sneak into position. They stand and wait for the Tweedles to circle around. Malice takes out her pistol, and Alice lifts her chain. She's worried that hitting a Tweedle with it might not do enough harm, though. When they are each behind one of the Tweedles, Alice nods.

Alice's chain makes a clinky sound as she shifts it, about to strike.

With seemingly impossible speed, the Tweedles both twirl and kick. Alice is knocked to the ground, dazed. She struggles to recover but within moments she is being sat upon by Tweedledee. She looks over to see that Malice is held down as well.

Tweedledee rummages through her pockets and empties the contents onto the ground. He says, "Aha! Humpty's tape!" He tapes Alice's arms behind her back before tossing the tape to his brother, who tapes Malice up. The Tweedle twins get off of them, then pull them up so they're sitting on the ground.

Tweedledum proclaims, "Why there are two of you now, just like us!"

"Contrariwise!" Tweedledee shouts. "They're not like us! They're taped up!"

"That's not what I meant," Tweedledum says. He wiggles the pistol in his hand. "Why I oughta shoot you dead right now!"

"No way, no how! That's an unfair contest! Foul!" Tweedledee shakes the rattle viciously at his brother.

"No how back! You can't call a foul, if I haven't done the thing yet. Forfeit!"

Now Alice decides to cut in, while trying to put some of her newfound art of deception into good use. "Boys, boys, the gun is not real. It's merely a cap gun. A toy!"

They look down at her.

Tweedledee holds the razorblade underneath Alice's chin, pressed against the skin. "But this razorblade is real, I can tell. I think it would be a good tool for making you cry. What do you think brother?"

"Ditto. Twice the eyes, twice the tears. Delicious!" He rubs his tummy.

"Ditto to your ditto." Tweedledee addresses Alice now. "So since there are two of you, we take it you cracked open Humpty? Excellent. We always hated that blowhard."

"Yes," Alice says. "We had a bit of a break up."

Tweedledee says, "Excellent! But we have a bit of a confession. Humpty didn't have your heart."

"I know that now."

Tweedledum says, "Yes, we thought it would be grand fun to have you go after Humpty. But the truth is that after he took your heart at the party, in exchange for a future favor, he handed it off to the Mad Hatter, who snuck it out under his hat."

Tweedledee says, "Yes, we played a bit of a practical joke on you. And now there are two of you! And we shall have twice as much fun making you cry!"

Alice knows that she and Malice are not in a good position to stop them, but she has an idea. "But before that, I have an idea! A way for you to settle your differences and decide who shall have the rattle!"

"I have the rattle!" Tweedledee proclaims, and to prove it, he gives it a little shake.

Alice says, "Well I have a nice idea, regardless. It'll be a fun game. Since you two are always feuding and dueling..."

"Yes?" the brothers both say at the same time. They are leaning forward on tippy toes, in anticipation.

Alice says, "Why not have a duel? A pretend duel? Why it will be fun. And then you can both pretend to die. Isn't it such grand fun to pretend to be shot?"

The Tweedles are nodding eagerly with big grins on their faces as they say, "Ditto!"

One of them even gives a preview of his performance, clutching his chest, and sticking his tongue out the side of his mouth.

But, "Not yet!" Malice scolds.

Alice looks over at Malice who is grinning huge before she nods, now letting Alice do all the talking.

Alice says, "Malice and I can judge who dies the best, and the winner, hrmmm..." She pretends to think. "What shall the prize be?"

Now the brothers put their hands to their chins, repeating, "Prize prize prize." And they seem to be thinking hard.

Alice knows that anything they come up with will only lead to another round of arguing. So Alice jumps in, saying, "First one to lick our tears?"

The brothers consider that a moment, then nod. "Ditto!" they proclaim.

Each of the brothers grabs a pistol and soon they are standing back to back.

Tweedledum says, "Can we get on with this, please?"

"Yes, of course," Alice says. "Now, no pussyfooting you two. You have to actually aim and everything. You must convince us of your performance! And no cheating. You don't fire until I say. Now, as I count you shall take your steps until 20, then turn when I say fire."

One of them says "Nohow" while the other says "Contrariwise," then the both of them: "Too far!"

"Fine then, 19 steps."

"18!" Tweedledee shouts, while the other shouts, "2!"

Alice says, "10."

"17!" Tweedledee shouts, while the other shouts, "5!"

Alice says, "At this rate, we'll never agree! I say 3, and that's final! Now..." She begins to count to three—like mirror images of each other, the twins take their steps, then Alice shouts, "Fire!"

They turn at the same time, lift their pistols at the same rate and fire simultaneously. Blooms of red sprout in identical areas of their chests and they each raise a hand to their chests, drop their pistols at the same time.

Malice shouts, "Yay!" She claps a little with her bound hands.

The Tweedles' hands clutched to their chests are growing red with blood, the red on their shirts growing wider.

Tweedledum shouts, "Real bullets, I daresay!" He groans in pain.

Tweedledee says, "Ditto! Shot through our hearts we are!" in a sorrowful tone.

They stagger at the same time.

Like looking at mirror images, Alice thinks.

Malice is mocking them, "Ahah! A couple of buffoons. I rename you DumDum and DumDummerer!"

Their faces flash anger before returning to their pained expressions.

Tweedledee glances at the razorblade he had set down. "Revenge I daresay, is warranted brother. Let's cut their throats!"

"Contrariwise! Let's shoot them with the guns."

"Splendid thinking brother! Ditto!"

The brothers take their bloodied hands from off their chests to stoop and pick up the guns.

Malice's expression takes on a look of fear.

Alice doesn't know much about guns, but could it be possible that the Cheshire Cat had lied about them being single shot?

The Tweedle twins begin staggering toward their targets. Every once in a while they must stop and shout in pain, and their hands tremble, but they make their way.

Malice shouts, "No! Back off! Go away!"

Alice sneers, says to Tweedledee. "I'm surprised. I guess you have hearts after all."

He answers, "Yes, but they're black."

Alice says nothing. Merely locks eyes with Tweedledee as he approaches—she doesn't move her eyes from his, holds a cold unblinking stare. He had been responsible for so much torment and she had taken it, but now, she's determined to stare into his eyes as the life leaves him. She wants to see the very moment he dies.

Closer he comes.

Tweedledee stands before Alice. Tweedledum is in front of Malice. As one, the twins lift the pistols, never breaking eye contact with the girl in front of them. They point the pistols at the girls' forehead and pull the triggers.

And the pistols go click.

"No boom boom," Alice says with a glare, looking into his eyes, and then, as she'd hoped, she sees the life leave him, as his eyeballs roll up into his head, and he topples over on top of her, causing her to be pushed over and having her cheek pressed into the dirt.

She hears Malice screaming, "Ahhh! Get this fat whale off of me!"

It takes a few moments for Alice to wiggle out from under the corpse. Malice is already free. The boys seemed to have died at the same time, like twins to the very end.

As Alice struggles to free herself, she watches as Malice goes over to the razorblade and awkwardly uses it to cut at her tape bonds. Alice offers to help, but for some reason, Malice absolutely refuses. Malice's efforts are awkward but seem to be working. Meanwhile, Alice gets out from under the dead body.

Alice feels a sharp pain in her wrist and yells out. Malice yells out at the same time.

Malice shouts, "I cut myself!"

Alice's hands are behind her, so she doesn't know what the cause of her pain was.

Her hands growing bloody from her wound, Malice continues to saw away. She pulls her hands apart, the tape finally cut away.

Malice approaches Alice with a wicked grin on her face. "And now, to take care of you."

Alice says, "Thank you so much. I need to get some circulation back." She chuckles, glad to have her helper and teammate on her side, to help her get her heart back.

Malice crouches down behind her. "What is this? You have a slice on your wrist too? How did that happen?"

"I don't know, it was at the same time as you cut yourself." Alice feels her hair pulled violently back and held there, feels the razorblade pressed to her neck.

From behind, Malice whispers in her ear, "Don't move and this will go quickly. Don't speak. I remember what you told me. The problem is, there is only one heart between the two of us. One of us must go."

"If you cut me, you cut yourself!"

"What?" The pressure of the blade lessens slightly.

"My wrist! Your cheek! We're mirror images. If I die, you die!"

There is a long pause, then the blade leaves Alice's neck.

Quietly, Malice says, "Damn." She raises her voice to address Alice, but remains behind her, out of sight. "Well that certainly complicates things. So I suppose you are my rival. Good luck to you. But remember, finders keepers."

"It doesn't have to be like that. Maybe we can share somehow. This is Wonderland after all. We can still work together. Getting back my...I mean our heart is the most important thing. Then we can compromise." She waits for a response. "Just release me, okay?"

No response. Malice is gone.

Alice is able to stand, and looks around. Malice has taken the razorblade and chains and one pistol. The other pistol remains, but it's useless and heavy. Her dress pockets may be able to hold a lot, but holding too much would get clunky and heavy. The tape remains, which Alice awkwardly slips into her dress, and thankfully she still has her deck of cards. When she gets her hands free she'll have to look through it to see if the Thirteen of Heartless is still in there, but she suspects it is, because she realizes she forgot to tell Malice that she'd need the card in order to put the heart back in.

And of course, the two corpses of the Tweedles remain, lying in the blood-soaked dirt. The rattle is lying on the ground a few feet away from them, forgotten.

She says, "Who wants the rattle, then?" She looks over at Tweedledum, who is lying face down in the dirt. "You? Hey, look at me when I'm talking to you. Fine then." She walks to the rattle and after struggling a bit, picks it up, carries it over to Tweedledee, who is lying face up, and tosses it onto his chest. "There, now you have your precious rattle. Ga ga goo goo, you little baby." She stares at his unmoving face, frozen in a contorted expression of pain. "Where's my thank you? Well fine, guess I'll go."

After a few moments thought, she decides to visit the Caterpillar, who lives a short distance away, to get untaped. She begins walking.

After a few moments, she stops, turns to look at you, and recites this poem:

Tweedledum and Tweedledee,

Were each given a fake toy gun,

So that Tweedledum and Tweedledee,

Could pretend duel and die just for fun.

So they tried to see who best could act,

As if they were shot by a gun,

But real shots rang out, and their ribs both were cracked,

And they died without saying who won!

Chapter 20 The Caterpillar

Soon she comes to it, a spot to the side of the path where there is a particular mushroom atop which sits a particular three inch long caterpillar smoking from a hookah.

She awkwardly positions herself to take a tiny bite of the mushroom, as the little caterpillar watches tinily and quietly.

She was required to visit the caterpillar every other day, but that was before her heart got stolen. Biting from the left side of the mushroom always makes her shrink.

And shrink she does. Just as she suspected, everything shrinks at a different rate—her clothes always shrink a bit slower than her body, causing her dress to temporarily be too big for her, and what she was counting on is also true—her arms and wrists shrink faster than the tape wrapped around them, so soon she is easily able to pull her hands free.

She sits now, on the ground, a respectable size for conversing with the atrocious insect. She doesn't like him at all. He's immature, literally—he refuses to grow up and become a butterfly. But she'd always been too polite to protest with any more than a level of meekly.

The Caterpillar watches her with detached interest from his differently spectacled eyes—a year ago, he took to wearing a monocle on one eye to appear more distinguished. He lifts the hookah from his insectoid mouth and shoots smoke rings in her direction. "You snuck up on me! Usually I have to put up with your distracting shadow over me before you shrink. Why I say girl! Do you know you're not casting a shadow?"

Alice looks down to see that it's true. But she shrugs it off. Weird things happen all the time in Wonderland.

Alice brings out her deck of cards and begins looking through it, quickly finding that the Thirteen of Heartless is still there.

Now the Caterpillar says, "Cards? What's the meaning, girl? And why did you put tape around your wrists?"

Alice is grateful for the freedom to fold her arms, which she does now. "I didn't do it. It was the Tweedle twins. They—they were trying to make me cry." Since she had so recently acquired the skill of deception, she decides to put it to use now, and pretend she's the same Alice as usual—and she won't mention the twins' demise.

The Caterpillar takes a small puff from his hookah, exhales smoke. "Boys will be boys."

"Brats will be brats. They will get what's coming to them someday."

"Perhaps, but not from the likes of you. Why, you are just a weak, little...meek, uninspiring, unimpressive, tiny little little girl."

"You should be glad I am. That way, I can talk to you."

"Yes, I'm glad to make you test for me, but I know you. You would goof off if you could. Won't stay on task. You're lucky to have me to provide you with guidance." He tuts and adjusts his monocle with one of his many many thin caterpillar legs.

Alice tries to stifle her anger. Her goal here is not to give in to her anger, despite all the horrible things the Caterpillar has done to her in the past. Her goal is to get to the bottom of where her heart is. I must keep reminding myself of that.

Alice says, "I'm grateful for your tutelage. You've taught me so much of the effects of so many varied spices. Why, recount with me—spices that have made my hair turned red, spices that have made all the food I ate taste like strawberries and one that made me feel dizzy as if I'd been spinning in place for minutes at a time. And one that shot me full of so much pleasure I lay still for three days straight. Once you gave me a spice that made rainbows shoot from my mouth each time I spoke. Do you remember?"

He chuckles. "Yes, I remember that one. You are lucky to know someone with such a refined taste and such access to numerous spices as I have. Do you realize how exquisite of a hookah smoker I am?"

Alice fights to keep from rolling her eyes. How can I forget? You mention it every single time. But she thinks perhaps it's wise to stroke his ego a bit before she tries to tease any information out of him. So she says, "How exquisite?"

"Glad you asked! Why my girl, I am so skilled a hookaher, that no matter the spice, no matter if I have ever smoked it or not, I can inhale precisely and exactly up to the very moment just before an overdose would occur. It is a simply uncanny skill I have and a testament to my skills and abilities. And so I am able to reach the pinnacle of pleasure that each spice offers, for it is right on that line just before you get too much that you get the most you can get without getting too much, you see?"

Alice nods eagerly. Even while, for so long, and right now even, she has wished that the Caterpillar would make a mistake some day and inhale just a little too long and die and be rid of himself. Because frankly, she doesn't appreciate being the test subject for his tinkering.

Now the Caterpillar adjusts his monocle and launches into his favorite poem, which he recites often, and which so happens to be about himself.

I'm an insect hookaher of distinction and taste,

Who smokes the most exquisite spices!

And I know when to quit with the utmost of haste,

So as not to be killed by my vices!

Since I inhale right up to the point that I die,

I reach the highest point of pleasure,

And since my timing's so precise, so clever am I,

Why I daresay that I am a treasure!

Alice claps at his recitation. She's quite convincing, she thinks.

"Very good, my girl. Thank you for your support. I have a new spice for you..."

The Caterpillar likes to test all his newly acquired spices on her. He calls her his "guinea pig". It has resulted in so much misery and recoveries over the years, she has grown to despise him. Yet she could never refuse him, because he threatened to tell the Queen, who would order guards to have her beaten or whipped if she made trouble.

She says, meekly, "I'd rather not try it. More for you, don't you think?"

"Oh, no, my little girl. I'm unfamiliar with this particular spice. I need you to test it so I can watch you and know how much to take without overdosing. You know that. Must we go through this again?"

Alice sighs. So many times she's wished the Caterpillar would overdose so he wouldn't be able to torment her anymore. She'd fantasized about maybe "helping" him get a little too much over the edge, but she could never before bring herself to do it. But she has more things to worry about than revenge, she reminds herself.

"Okay," she says smiling. "But before I toke, there's something I'd like to discuss."

He adjusts his monocle, blows some smoke. "Yes?"

"See, during my unhappy unbirthday party today...I know you weren't there, but perhaps you might have heard something. I had something stolen. A very important item. Have you heard anything about it?"

"I've heard nothing, and why should I care? What was stolen? Don't you take care of your possessions, silly girl?"

"Well it's quite embarrassing. I'll just say it was a body part. Are you sure you've heard nothing? You don't happen to know where it might be, do you?"

"A body part? What body part?" He looks around theatrically. "Well it's certainly not around here. Why, depending on which part, it would probably be quite huge compared to me. Have you not forgotten that you're usually overly large? And your body parts would be overly large?" His tone of speaking suggests he thinks Alice is stupid.

"And you don't happen to know—"

He waves four arms, dismissively. "No no, no one tells me anything. They consider me too tiny too speak to. When really it is they who are overly large! Now enough of your missing property. You look just fine to me! I'm so anxious to try my new spice. Now get up here girl! You wouldn't want me to tell the Queen would you?"

Alice believes the Caterpillar knows nothing about her lost heart. If the Tweedle twins hadn't been lying, the Mad Hatter had taken it, so he's next on her list to visit.

The Caterpillar causes her to startle from her thoughts when he shouts, "Girl! Get up here, get up here now! I'll tell the Queen if you don't come this instant! I shall have you whipped, beaten, beheaded! A trivial missing body part will be the least of your worries when you're missing your head! Now!" His face has grown crimson from rage and his monocle drops carelessly from his eye and swings from the angry jerking motions of his head.

A grin creeps up Alice's face as she locks eyes with him. "Certainly." She curtsies.

Come, we shall have some fun now. And perhaps when I toke, the high of the spice will be a jolly good time besides. I always felt such guilt at the pleasure before, but that was the old me.

The Caterpillar says, "I'm glad to see some obedience for a change." As Alice begins to climb the mushroom, he says, "That's a good girl." Now that she's on top of it, he says, "Come sit in my lap."

The Caterpillar doesn't actually have a lap in the human sense, but Alice snuggles in front of the Caterpillar, huggled by dozens of his waving arms.

The Caterpillar begins to put the spice into his hookah. The spice looks like dried green leaves. "Now this spice," the Caterpillar says, "is supposed to cause imaginations in the mind, colors and tastes to fill your head. It's quite powerful." The new spice begins to burn. "Here now." He holds the mouthpiece part up to her lips. "Just like always, with the two breaths."

The usual routine is for Alice to take two tokes while the Caterpillar watches. He has an uncanny ability to judge how powerful any spice is just by watching, so that he knows exactly how long to inhale himself, right up to the exact moment before an overdose—that way, he can achieve the highest high possible.

Eagerly, Alice takes the mouthpiece into her mouth, inhales warm rough smoke, fills her lungs, does it again. She coughs up smoke. Now she feels a tingling in her head and a sensation as if her head is expanding.

"Ooh, I can't wait," the Caterpillar says. His voice sounds deeper than usual, and slower. He takes the pipe from her hand, lifts it to his mouth, and inhales.

Alice acts as quickly as she can, though she's a little clumsy from the spice. She grabs the tape from her pocket. The Caterpillar is inhaling deeply, eyes closed, not noticing her.

Alice peels the tape, sticks one end to the back of the Caterpillar's head then wraps the tape around, taping the hookah in place in the Caterpillar's mouth.

The Caterpillar still has his eyes closed. Perhaps the spice has numbed his sense of touch.

Alice makes sure to tape over the Caterpillar's nose holes.

She shouts, "Take that!"

The Caterpillar is slow to react, but his eyes dreamily open. He seems confused as he sees Alice staring deeply into his eyes. He looks around, then his eyes go wide in surprise as he realizes.

"Do you know what body part I lost?" Alice says as the Caterpillar tries to rip the tape off, but his arms are too weak and caterpillary. "My heart." The whites of the Caterpillar's eyes show quite a bit more as he glances at her. She glares back, and takes the tube in her hand, because she figures that's what he'll try next.

And he does—he tries to pull the tubing from the hookah. Alice slaps his hands away with her free hand. It's easy to do, because his movements are clumsy and slow.

The Caterpillar yells a muffled scream of rage and terror from behind the tape. Alice figures the Caterpillar had been holding his breath, so screaming would lead to...

The Caterpillar takes a deep breath. He blinks and shakes his head, his eyes go wide, he begins to twitch.

Alice watches.

The Caterpillar begins to shake all over. His eyes roll up into the top of his head. He lurches to the side and drops off the mushroom, and Alice is yanked and falls too, because she is too clumsy from the spice.

The Caterpillar thuds heavily onto the ground on his backside. Alice lands on top of him. She hears the hookah land somewhere to her left.

She feels groggy and dazed and for a few long seconds, they lie that way. She feels the Caterpillar's chest rise as he takes in another deep breath.

Several long seconds pass. Alice looks around, trying to plan her mode of getting off the bastard. Should she just roll off and trust she'll land okay?

But now the Caterpillar's body starts convulsing, causing her to slide off. She sits up and watches.

The Caterpillar's body is rippling spasmodically, his many dozens of legs twitching while moving, as if he is trying to run somewhere. His eyes are open wide, staring into space, the hose is still taped to his mouth, but the hose part is broken away from the rest of the hookah.

The Caterpillar flails and convulses and shudders, rolls to his right side on top of the hookah and then he is still.

Alice approaches him to see his face. His eyes are still open wide in terror, but the life seems to have left them. She places her hand over the open end of the hose so that he won't be able to take any more breaths of fresh air, and watches for several minutes.

The Caterpillar doesn't take any breaths, his eyes remain open the whole time.

Finally, she says to him, "Watch out for the spice. That stuff'll kill you."

She searches around a few minutes. The Caterpillar never kept any other possessions than his hookah, and he didn't wear clothes, so he has no pockets to search. Her heart is not here. So she supposes she'll go see the Hatter next.

Chapter 21 What Alice Sees

Alice feels as if someone is toying with her as she stumbles about—it's as if someone is shifting the ground beneath her feet.

She blinks as she looks at the mushroom. "That can't be right," she mumbles, as she stares at it in alarm, for it now seems to be floating in the air upside down. She remembers that often when you invert things, it causes them to become evil. "So is that an evil mushroom?"

She glances at the Caterpillar, then does a double-take, because where the Caterpillar once was, there is now a cocoon. The hookah hose is slithering away like a snake, pulling part of the hookah with it.

She notes that there's much too much bright blue and red in the things she sees, and everything seems to blur and shift.

"Why, this must be a...a...uh...hallucination! Well, time for me to return to my regular size."

She grabs a piece of the right side of the mushroom, taking a guess, because she doesn't know if it being upside down causes its left to become right, and vice versa.

She begins nibbling. She feels her head begin to expand first.

The cocoon is wriggling. It cracks open while Alice is growing. A black butterfly unfurls its wings then flutters off.

"Finally! He seemed to have been stuck in perpetual adolescence! But he grew up way too fast." She giggles. "As am I!" She stops nibbling because she is normal size now.

She stares wide-eyed, because standing in front of her is Humpty Dumpty, but he looks cracked all over like a boiled egg that's been tapped all about by a spoon. She notices he's wonkily-shaped now, not very round, almost cubicle.

Alice says, "Weren't you just a round—"

He scowls. "I've been around, yes, no thanks to you! You stay away from me! The king and his men put me together again, and I'm starting all over again. I'm building a brand new wall I am, in an entirely different spot I am, away from you!"

"But I'm right here! You really couldn't have chosen a worse spot."

"Technicalities. Don't bother me with them." He produces a brick in one hand. "I shall build my wall brick by brick." He sets the brick on the ground then stands on top of it, which proves quite difficult as demonstrated by his teetering and waving and whirling of his arms.

"Whoooa...I'm...whoa...I'm Humpty dum...whoa...Dumpty here on my wall... Ack!...I'm Humpty...whoa...Dumpty and I cannot fall!"

"Why that's not a proper wall. That's just a brick." She suddenly notices that the brick is set on a railroad track. Why hadn't she noticed that before?

"I shall...whoa...build...ack...the wall...higher later."

"And wider too, I should think. By the way, did you know you are standing on railroad tracks? That really is quite a bad location for your wall. What if a train comes?"

"Hush. I'm balancing!"

Suddenly she notices that some distance away, behind Humpty Dumpty, the March Hare and the White Rabbit stand several yards away from each other, facing each other—each is holding a large carrot in their arms.

The White Rabbit shouts at the hare, "I've had enough of you! There's only room for one rabbit in Wonderland!"

The Hare shouts back, "I'm not a rabbit, I'm a hare, you scoundrel!"

They begin hopping toward each other, holding the carrots out like javelins. Both carrots strike true, impaling them both.

Alice cheers, shouts, "Eat your veggies!"

The rabbit and hare, still impaled and bleeding, are shaking hands and bowing after their respectable duel.

Humpty Dumpty says, "What's all that ruckus? Please...whoa...be quiet. I'm trying to balance here."

Alice looks at Humpty Dumpty just in time to see the black butterfly land on the tip of Humpty's nose and rest there.

Humpty's face takes on a comical look of alarm. "Shoo! You!" He is looking down, cross-eyed at the butterfly, which isn't moving.

Alice hears the sound of the train's horn.

She turns to see it in the distance, but it is rapidly approaching, much faster than seems possible.

The March Hare and the White Rabbit are hugging awkwardly, despite the huge carrots stuck in their bodies.

I must knock Humpty Dumpty from the wall so he doesn't get hit by the train! Because I want to be the one who breaks him...again!

The train has almost arrived. The butterfly finally flits off.

Humpty doesn't appear to see the train in his side vision, because of how he has to stand on the brick. "What is that racket? Distracting. I must concentrate on my...whoa...balance!"

"I will break you!" With a howl, Alice runs, jumps up with both feet in front of her, sailing through the air like she is sitting in a chair, knocking Humpty from the wall. He explodes into shimmering swirling confetti sparkles.

She turns her head in midair to see the train slamming right into her.

All of a sudden, she's lying on the ground on her back as if none of that happened. She looks around. She sees the little mushroom, right side up, and the little dead caterpillar next to his hookah.

She stands, dusts herself off, then staggers toward the Mad Hatter's table.

Chapter 22 A Tea Party

So, Alice makes her way to the tree, where the March Hare, the Hatter and the Dormouse spend much of their time Tea-Partying.

When she is almost there, she yelps in pain from a stinging pain on her arm. She looks down to see several scratch marks along her right arm. They look like the claw marks from some sort of animal.

In panic she crouches, looks all around, but sees nothing. Now she realizes something must have scratched Malice. Alice watches her wounds begin to ooze blood.

She brings a handkerchief out from her pocket and does her best to attend to her wounds. At least they're shallow.

She can think of nothing other to do than to continue on her way.

After about half an hour, she can see it. There is a table set out under a tree in front of a house, and the Hatter is having tea at it. The Dormouse is sitting next to him. The Dormouse is as usual, fast asleep, but Alice doesn't see the March Hare, who usually sits to the the other side of the Dormouse.

The Hatter seems to be steadying himself with one hand resting on the Dormouse while he holds a cup of tea in the other. He is blinking rapidly and bugging his eyes out in a most peculiar way.

Alice, still feeling the effects of the spice, giggles at him.

The Hatter says, "Oh, no! Not again. It is quite rude to attend a Tea Party twice! Rude to all the other attendants, you see! Perhaps come back some time when we have some seats available?"

Alice looks around mockingly at the long table which has quite a number of empty chairs. She sees two custard pies just like the ones the Hatter had brought to the party resting on the table amongst all the fine china. She also notices that one of the chairs has been overturned, some of the cups knocked over, the table cloth seems crinkled and ruffled.

Malice must have been here!

Alice takes a seat across from the Hatter, knowing that it might be rude, but she is having a hard time balancing and focusing her eyes on the Hatter at the same time. He always looks mad, but he now appears madder than usual, and he has a long bleeding slash on his forehead.

The Hatter proclaims, "I gave the heart to you like you wanted. It's rude to only pretend to leave, don't you think?" He turns to where the March Hare usually sits. "Oh, yes, that's right," he mutters.

"What's right?"

"He ran off after you tussled with him, of course."

"I'm sorry, but that wasn't me. You see, my reflection got separated from me, and well, she looks just like me, only my left side is on her right side, and vice versa. You know what I mean?"

"Like the Tweedles? Great. Just what we need. More twins!"

"Yes, so you gave her the heart?"

"Yes, but she said she doesn't know how to put it back in, whatever that means."

Because she doesn't have the card.

He sets down his tea cup. "Excuse me." He slaps his face. "Get yourself together, man!" He's talking to himself. "Have you gone mad?"

Alice laughs. "I daresay you seem madder than usual."

"Well, of course, you—I mean she made me eat my hat! I have a question."

"Yes?"

"Are you sure you weren't just here? Maybe it's some sort of double vision I'm having. Why, I see two of you right now. So if I saw you before is that quadruple vision? Or triple?"

Alice is not about to try to figure out what that might mean. "I'm afraid that must just be your eyes. What do you mean, she made you eat your hat?"

"Yes, she rudely burst into our private tea party and started making demands that we hand over the heart I legitimately got from Humpty. She fought with the March Hare, who ran off and she forced me to lick my hat. I protested. The wearing of my hats is no problem, but the licking of them is not at all good. Well, she said she would cut me if I didn't do it. She had a razorblade. And well, what could I do? I'm not a fighter. I prefer to watch the action, rather than dirty my hands with it. Filthy stuff, that action is. Then she took off with the heart, and now I'm probably going to die." He looks mournful.

A bit of sweat rolls down his forehead, mixing with the blood of his wound. He seems to be sweating quite heavily.

Alice says, "Just from licking your hat?"

"Yes, well, she made me lick quite a lot, a lot more than usual. Usually I just bite the brim while I'm shaping my hats, and a wee bit of mercury and chemicals gets in, making me a wee bit mad. It's quite inadvertent. I mean I don't go around licking hats for no reason. Why that would be positively mad, don't you think?" He's trembling now.

Alice says, "You don't look well." She can't help but smile a little, but she has no burning desire to see the Hatter die out of revenge. The Hatter might have been rude at times, but he was more of a nuisance who never engaged in the completely horrible things that the others in Wonderland used to.

The Hatter looks kind of swirly...like a pineapple cactus or something. No, wait, there isn't such a thing. Or maybe there is, in Wonderland. It had been such a long time since she'd lived in the ordinary world where reality followed proper rules. Who knows, maybe if a gardener—

The Hatter clears his throat.

Mary realizes she has been kind of staring vacantly at him.

He says, "May I ask you a question?"

"Okay."

"Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

She rolls her eyes. "I'll tell you later."

"It shouldn't be too much later, as I will be inconveniently indisposed being deceased."

Alice can believe that. The Hatter is outright shuddering now.

The Hatter says, "So whose heart was it, anyway?"

Alice shrugs. "I'll tell you, if you tell me what's so special about your hat." He'd always referred to it as his "very special hat", but never said why.

The Hatter sighs. "Very well. There's no point in keeping the secret anymore. And besides, I'm just dying to tell you." He chuckles. "Sorry, a little bit of gallows humor. Yes, this my dear, is my voyeur hat. Why, I'm proud to say, I designed it expertly myself! It is exquisite for what it does! All I have to do is tap the top to make it work. Its only limitation is it can only be used three times a day. I can see your expression. What does it do, you wonder."

Alice nods with an encouraging grin.

"Why I use it to watch you, my dear. Though, since I can only use it for short amounts of time, I try to get the timing right so I can view you when you are suffering."

Her smile falters. "Suffering?"

"Yes, all the creative and delicious torments the creatures of Wonderland subject you to. Oh, how I love to watch! To see the exquisite agony on your face, to watch the tears roll down your cheeks, to hear you sob. Oh, you are so exquisitely beautiful in your suffering my dear. And that's why this is the only hat I wear." He gazes into her eyes. "Why you are the most beautifully suffering creature I've ever seen. Why I wish someone would torture you right now so I could witness your beautiful pain one more time before I die." He wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead.

Alice says, "Well, what if I were to wear that hat?"

"Well, it's tuned to you, but it would be silly to see yourself, don't you think? Perhaps you would see your twin. Perhaps you could use the hat to get revenge on her? I mean, for my sake. Venge my death, won't you, my dear?"

Alice's grin grows huge. Why, the Hatter looks absolutely wretched at this moment. Why, it seems as if he'll keel over at any instant. There are bits of sparkly pops of light in her vision, but she thinks that must be the lingering effects of the spice.

She waits for him to ask...

"So," he says, "you said you'd tell me." He coughs for several seconds. "So, who's heart was it?" His voice sounds raspy.

"It was mine." As his face registers fear, she nods. "Yes, I'm heartless now."

He nudges the Dormouse. "I say, my man, wake up. There's a little girl you must maul." The Dormouse doesn't respond.

Alice doesn't break her gaze with him. "You're close now, aren't you? You look terrible."

"Yes. But we all go sometime, right?"

She nods. "Fancy a riddle?"

Mournfully he says, "Sure."

"Why is a raven like my writing desk?" Alice asks.

"Are you going to tell me? I haven't much time."

"Because they both belong to the past and refer to what will be nevermore. A bit of a stretch I admit, but we both know you never intended the poem to have an answer."

He nods sagely. "Ahhh..." His eyes begin to roll to the back of his head. "I do believe I'll be dying now."

"No wait! One more thing?"

"Yes? Go on then."

She picks up a custard pie, lifts the hat off his head, and smushes the pie into his face. The timing is perfect and he slumps over face down on the table, his face still in the pie tin. He doesn't move, so she assumes he's dead.

She stares at him for several long seconds, then nudges the Dormouse. "Whaddya think of that, aye?"

The Dormouse doesn't respond at all. Usually, he responds a little, in his sleep, then goes on sleeping.

Unsteadily, Alice stands up. She's still quite out of it. She grabs the Dormouse by the back of the head (She misses the first time she tries, but gets it the second), then yanks his head up.

The Dormouse's throat has been slit. Red blood has poured out over his body, but she hadn't seen it till now.

She says, "Well that's a problem, isn't it?" She chuckles. She lets go of the Dormouse's head and it plonks onto the table. She takes the Hatter's hat and sets it atop her own head.

And even though she knows she's inebriated and not thinking straight, she just gives in to the sudden impulse because, why not? After all, she's been wanting to do this for so long, but never had the heartlessness to actually go through with it.

So she pushes the dead Dormouse and Hatter out of their chairs onto the ground. She puts her hands under the edge, then she flips the table, shouting at the top of her lungs, sending china flying.

Chapter 23 Shadow

Underneath her chin, Alice hears a female voice say, "Sickening! Why you ought to be ashamed!"

Alice's eyes bug out comically. She can't see her own eyes, but she can imagine, and the thought makes her giggle. She tries to look under her chin, but peers instead at her chest.

"No dummy!" says the voice. "Down here. On the ground."

Alice looks but only sees...

"Yes," says the voice. "I'm your shadow!"

"Well well well, has my shadow come out to play?"

"I want to speak to you, because I'm outraged by your recent behavior—separating from your reflection and running around. Why it's just not proper!"

Alice blinks. She realizes that the shadow's voice sounds similar to her own, only flatter and less colorful. She stammers, "Well I. Um. I'd like to change that."

"You better! How am I supposed to decide which of you two to be the shadow for? Why, I've been hopping back and forth between you two! I'm so tired!"

Alice and her shadow wipe her brow.

Alice scowls. "Well, pick one! Aren't shadows supposed to be silent? I don't need your attitude."

Alice and her shadow put their arms akimbo and say, "No! This can't go on much longer! Unless you two get back together, I'm leaving you both! Then you'll have no reflection and no shadow either! I don't think you'll like that, will you?"

Alice's and the shadow's shoulders slump. "I wish I could recombine with Malice, but I don't know how."

Alice and her shadow raise a finger in the air. "I know how. You must both go to the Looking Glass and be reflected by it at the same time. That will undo all of this separateness silliness."

Alice knows where the Looking Glass is. It was the entrance she went through when she first arrived in Wonderland, and she's always dreamed of going back out of Wonderland through it. It's inside a house on an eighth square of the chessboard, guarded by the Jabberwock. She wonders if Malice would voluntarily meet her there just to become a reflection again. "But—"

Alice and her shadow put a fingertip to her lips to quiet her. "Shhh. You're wondering, why would Malice agree to that? Well don't worry. I will convince her. I'll even lie if I have to. I am so sick of this hopping about! So, here's my plan. You make your way to the Eighth Square where the Looking Glass is, and I'll persuade or deceive Malice into doing the same. And hopefully we'll go back to being one big happy family again, and I can go back to being your silent shadow. Agreed?"

Alice and the shadow nod. Now Alice and the shadow each takes one of their hands in the other and makes a hand shake.

"Okay, then," says the shadow. "Let's see what Malice is up to right now. Hold on."

Alice's shadow disappears. It's quite an unnerving occurrence.

Alice doesn't have much time to "reflect" on it though, as it were, before her shadow pops back—for a brief moment, it appears to have kitten ears.

The shadow says, "Oh, you shan't believe this! Malice is going to try to summon the Cheshire Cat. If that hat works, now would definitely be a good time to use it."

Alice and her shadow point to the hat on the ground.

Alice and her shadow put it on and tap the top.

Chapter 24 Malice and the Cat

The vision before Alice's eyes shimmers, then suddenly she is gazing at a girl wearing a cat suit. It's as if Alice is hovering slightly above and a short distance away from the girl. The girl is sitting on the ground, in what looks to be an outside area with wooden plank floors. There is a wall made of cobblestones to the right. There are two guillotines behind the girl. It looks a lot like the Queen's execution area where she sends creatures off to be beheaded.

Alice gasps. "Oh! Why, it's as if I'm floating above! Can she see me?"

The shadow answers, "No, she can't. You are watching from afar. I can see all that you see, as well."

"Is that Malice? At the Queen's execution area?"

"Yes, she got the cat suit from the Queen of Heart's tailor. It's glamored to summon and charm the Cheshire Cat. And she's going to use the catnip too. But I'm afraid I must go now, lest he suspect."

"Lest who suspects?"

Alice sees the shadow appear next to Malice on the ground.

Catnip? They say it makes cats really amorous.

Alice observes Malice more. On the ground, next to scurrying rats, is a jar, a ball of yarn, and the pistol. The rats are surrounded by a circle of white chalky substance. Alice assumes it's some of the Queen's special rat poison—the rats, sensing it, would be forced to stay inside the circle.

Malice opens the jar, dips her hand into it, then smears some goopy substance onto her lips through the mask before shouting,

"Here kitty kitty!

Won't you come out and play?

I've got some rats, I've got some yarn,

For you to swat today!"

Malice looks around hopefully for a few moments, but now her shoulders slump.

"Kitty kitty come out and play!

I've decided to shoot myself today!"

The head of the Cheshire Cat materializes in front of Malice. Just the head, as usual. Alice can only see the back of his head from her viewpoint.

Alice feels fright go through her. If Malice shoots herself, I'll die too! She shouts "No!" but they don't respond. "Shadow? Shadow stop her! Shadow come back!" None of it works, the shadow remains at Malice's side, so all Alice can do is watch.

"Hello Alice," the cat says to Malice. "My, that is a fetching outfit you have on today. You'd make such a pretty kitty. And what is that? Rats and yarn? Gifts for me?"

"Yes, to thank you for all your help."

"My pleasure, kitten."

Malice takes a deep breath. "Well, here goes." She lifts the pistol, presses it to her temple. "Oh, but first, I'd like to request my customary kiss of death."

The cat grunts in frustration. "What?"

"My kiss of death. Why it's...customary! It's only the polite thing to do."

"Yes, yes," says the cat. "I'm sorry, where are my manners? I daresay it sounds a proper right and fitting thing to do. Well, here goes." The hovering cat head floats to shift to kiss her cheek.

Malice shouts, "Rudeness!"

"I'm sorry, am I doing it wrong?"

"Of course you are. Have you never given a kiss of death before?"

"I'm afraid I haven't."

"Well it's got to be on the mouth! Well?" She shakes the pistol as if to say, "I can't hold this here all day."

"Very well." The cat floats and as far as Alice can tell from her viewpoint, they kiss for several seconds, before the cat head floats back.

The cat says, "Why, your lips are delicious."

"Thank you. Well, here goes."

Alice hopes she isn't about to die as she watches.

Malice pulls the trigger. Alice winces.

But there is no bang. Only the click of the hammer.

Malice pouts cutely. "Gun no go boom."

The cat shouts, "Outrageous! Is the gun broken? Did you fire its shot already?"

Malice shrugs. "Go ask Alice." She points and it looks as if she's pointing right at Alice.

Alice feels a twinge of fright, though her heart, of course, doesn't begin to race.

The cat turns his head, and now Alice can see his face. He's looking without focusing his eyes, his smile is gone. He now looks a bit sleepy, as if too tired to smile. "I don't see her," he says. While he's looking, Malice goes onto all fours. The Cheshire Cat turns back around. "Alice?"

"No, sorry, she left. I'm just an itty bitty kitty, won't you come out and play?"

"You are? You look like—"

"No! I'm an itty bitty kitty!" She purrs. Licks the back of her hand. "Who are you?"

"I'm the Cheshire Cat. I—I feel strange."

"Won't you come frolic with me? I've got yarn, pretty yarn, I've got rats for you today, so won't you come out to play?"

Malice slaps sloppily with her "paw" at the scattering rats. She isn't being serious she seems to be saying, as she grins big at him, tilts her head to the side. She pouts. "Why, where are your paws? Won't you bring them out so we can play?"

Alice can no longer see the Cheshire Cat's face, but his voice sounds slurry and slow. Was it from the catnip? He says, "I—I can't. I—I can't bring my body out, because the Queen wants to behead me. So I don't want to pop my body onto my head, because if I don't have a body I can't be beheaded. I must be careful."

Malice looks around. "I don't see the Queenie Weenie. Come onnnn. Play with the yarn wif me." She begins swatting the yarn back and forth.

"Ooh, I absolutely adore yarn!" He groans in exasperation. "It's just that I only have one life left. The Queen took the other eight away. I can never let down my guard! She can be so sneaky."

"Oh, poo!" She gives a megapout. "She's not here. It's just me, the rats, and a scaredy cat."

"Awww come on. Don't tease..."

"Here, just hold the yarn in your mouth then, if you aren't gonna bring your claws out."

She stoops and takes the ball of yarn in her mouth as if she's a cat, then sashays up, offering to transfer the yarn to his mouth.

The Cheshire Cat's head flits lightly forward, but Malice bounds a short distance away and sets the yarn down. "Nuh uh. If you want the yarn, you must give me a kiss."

"Another kiss, didn't I just give you one? Or didn't I? I feel so confused."

"You didn't give me a kiss. Maybe you just wished you did."

"I feel so strange, like I'm drunk. I'm forgetting things even from moment to moment. I'm sorry to be rude, but who are you again?"

"I'm a little kitty kitty.

Tell me, do you think I'm pretty?"

"Yes, very much so."

"Would you like to kiss me? Don't be shy."

"Well—"

"I'll only let you play with my yarn if you give me a kiss," she says in a flirtatious, mock demanding voice.

"Ha ha! Very well! I shall do as the lady kitty commands."

Malice lowers her head slightly as the Cheshire Cat approaches and gently kisses her.

"I say!" he exclaims. "Your lips are as sweet as catnip."

Malice merely smiles then nudges the ball of yarn over to him with her nose.

"Oh my, that is most delectable yarn, the fibers, the most lustrous color. I can tell the craftsmanship in the weaving—it is most exquisite. Rarely have I seen such yarn."

Malice purrs. "Let's play with it together. Let me see your paws, my darling."

"Oh, I can't resist you, my darling kitty! Here! Here are my paws." The rest of his body materializes. He sits on the ground, like a normal cat, as opposed to floating.

They begin to frolic and play. They bat the ball of yarn between them. Then the Cheshire Cat kills a few of the rats, while Malice pretends to swat at some of them—the Cheshire Cat offers the bloody rats to Malice as a gift and she accepts them while taking the opportunity to coax him into two more kisses.

Alice figures that if each kiss was laced with catnip, why the Cheshire Cat must be quite inebriated at this point.

Malice coaxes the Cheshire Cat in for another kiss, but just at the last second, she turns away, teasing, then bounds away.

From a distance away, she shouts, "I would very much like to marry you, Cheshire Cat. Do you think I'm being too forward?"

Alice notices that Malice is standing (in the way a four-legged cat stands) behind a block of wood with a semicircular indentation. Above the wood is suspended a silver blade. It's a guillotine, she realizes.

The Cheshire Cat says, slurring a great deal, "No, no, my darling. No, I mean, yes. I've been wanting so much to say that. I mean, marry me, please. I've wanted to say it! Too afraid before. I was, I mean."

"Come then," Malice says, with an enchanting smile. "Prove you mean it. Seal it with a kiss."

"I—I don't know. Something doesn't feel right..."

"What? Do I have to pout?" She pouts. "Super Megapout? How about this? I call it my death pout." And she unleashes a very grand example of an extreme form of pouting.

"Awww. I could never resist you, my darling Lenore. Yes, I want us to marry you. I mean, marry me." He walks drunkenly toward her.

"Yes, come my darling."

Unsteadily he approaches. She encourages, saying, "Yes, seal it with a kiss." She puckers her lips.

He stops in front of the wooden block and stretches his neck over to kiss her.

While they kiss, Malice's hands move, seeming to pull something—moments later, the blade of the guillotine falls, slicing the Cheshire Cat's head off.

Arterial spray shoots out from his neck, drenching Malice as her lips are still puckered in a kissy face, and the Cheshire Cat's head drops out of view.

Malice wipes the blood from her face while she grins. Her teeth are red with blood.

Now Alice's view of the scene shuts off.

Chapter 25 The Queen of Hearts

Alice decides to trust her shadow, and walks toward the Eighth Square, hoping Malice will meet her there.

While walking, she feels a headache come on, and realizes she is no longer under the influence of the spice.

After some time, she hears her shadow again, going pssst.

Alice looks down. "Yes?"

"Malice is about to meet with the Queen! She has it all planned! She's going to use pepper in her eyes. Oh, you won't want to miss this! Oh, I've got to go!"

The shadow again disappears.

Alice taps the top of the hat. Once again, she sees Malice as if she is floating slightly above and a short distance away from her.

Malice is standing where Alice has been many times before, in the Queen's makeup room.

The Queen, though she ruled over the cards, was not a card herself—she was human, though she looked very much like a drawing of a Queen on a card. And she loved to be done-up.

It is one of Alice's scheduled rounds to attend to the Queen and do her makeup. See, the Queen, a few years ago, heard how magical everyone considered Alice's tears to be. Well, the Queen figured her tears could be used to make her appear beautiful. Alice never could tell much difference between before and after the tears spritz, but the Queen always claimed it made her face feel tingly and was absolutely convinced it worked.

Alice watches Malice curtsy. She has shed the catsuit, and is wearing her normal black dress, with no hint of the Cheshire Cat's blood. Things are different than usual. The Queen is sitting in the makeup chair facing away from the mirror rather than looking into it. Also, the Queen is wearing a necklace of hearts, dark red colored and black around the edges. Alice is unable to count how many there are, but it looks like there very well could be thirteen.

"Thank you," says the Queen, "for killing that accursed cat! I'm so glad to have him out of the way. Why, it's one of the few things you've managed to get right."

"You're welcome Your Highness."

"Yes, that's why I've decided to invite you to the ball, just this once. Don't get used to it. But why am I facing this way? Turn me around, you halfwit!"

Malice smiles. "Please. I have something very special in mind. I think it would be so grand if you wait for the surprise!"

The Queen sighs. "Oh very well. I love surprises. Like your surprise birthday party today! Why, I had a grand time at it! But now I have a ball to attend, so I want to look my best. But I want to try something different—exotic, yet elegant, yet splendid, yet inspiring gentle awe, yet inspiring fear of being beheaded. Can you do that?"

Malice claps. "Absolutely, why I'll give you a makeover! And when I'm through, with my special ingredient, I'll give you a brand new face!"

The enthusiasm is contagious and the Queen squeals along. "Ah, it's your tears that make you such a good makeup artist. Without them you'd be subpar. But let's have you work your magic, eh! And if I don't like it, I'll have you beheaded."

(The Queen would always threaten Alice with beheading her, but never went through with it, because then where would she get the magic tears?)

So the Queen sits in the makeup chair and Malice gets to work, applying tinctures and powders, drawing with pencils and brushes. She is like an artist who apparently possesses all the same skills as Alice herself.

Malice says, "Done!"

"Ah, now for the finishing touch."

Malice nods, grabs the bottle from the makeup table. The Queen stands, then approaches Malice.

Malice nods, wincing. The Queen slaps her hard across the face then begins launching into her typical insults. "You're a stupid, incompetent, ugly, worthless..." It goes on for several minutes.

Usually, Alice would begin crying now. But that was the old version of Alice with a heart. Malice didn't have one. (Well, at least not an internal one.)

Malice rubs her eyes. Immediately after, Malice's eyes begin to tear up, then the tears begin to roll, copious amounts of tears.

"Boo hoo!" Malice shouts. "Boo hoo! Woe is me!" Alice doesn't think Malice sounds very convincing, but that was to be expected since after all, she has no heart.

The Queen now does what she usually does—she holds the spray bottle to Malice's face to try to capture as many tears in the bottle as she can.

"Excellent!" the Queen proclaims as she screws the cap on.

The usual next events were for Alice to spritz the Queen's face with her tears.

Malice points the bottle nozzle at the Queen's face. "Okay, are you ready to complete your makeover?"

"Oh, yes. I can't wait. Everyone will be so jealous at the ball."

"Are you ready for your brand new face?" Malice says in a teasing voice.

"Oh, hurry up, stupid! Don't make me behead you!" She closes her eyes.

"Okay, here goes." Malice spritzes, applying a fine mist all over the Queen's face. Swivels the chair around. "Okay, open your eyes!"

"Hey, how come you don't have a reflection? Oh, I can feel the tingling. It's warm, warmer than usual. Hey, it's hot!"

The skin of her face begins to bubble and smoke. "What? It burns! It ahhh!"

She stands, begins clawing at her face. Her face is smoking quite a bit now, and the Queen seems to be tearing at the flesh of her face. She falls to the ground and curls in a ball, sobbing.

Malice laughs. "Have fun at the ball! Somehow I suspect I'm no longer invited." She exits the room.

Alice's view of the scene shuts off.

Chapter 26 Alice and Her Shadow

Her shadow once again garners her attention as she's walking, giving forth a pssst, then "So I did my part."

Alice looks down, says, "Did Malice kill the Queen?"

"Hmm? No, of course not! She's just horribly disfigured. Malice didn't want to kill the Queen—she wanted her to suffer for her crimes."

"So, what? She has a sense of justice now?"

"Hmm? No, just a sense of humor. But I want to tell you I'm fed up with you two being separate, so I'm here to tell you I'm staying away until you get re-smushed-together."

"So is Malice going to meet me at the Looking Glass House?"

"Yes, I told you I did my part. She said to tell you she's looking forward to being recombined."

"Yeah, but the Eighth Square is guarded by the Jabberwock, and they say he kills all intruders with his vorpal blade."

"Yes, but remember, you have the card."

"The card? How will that help me with a jabberwock?"

"Remember his gambling addiction..."

"Of course, everyone knows about it. They say that's why he stole the Queen of Heart's tarts all that time ago—to pay off some debts. So what of it?"

Alice and her shadow tap the side of her head in a come on, think mocking motion. "And you still have the Thirteen of Heartless card..."

"That's right," says Alice. "And..."

"Annnd...did the Jabberwock ever confess to stealing the tarts?"

Alice rolls her eyes. "Of course not. I used to naively think he was innocent, but everybody knows he did it, but he never confessed and they've never been able to prove it. They convicted the Knave of Hearts instead."

"Yeah, so..."

"Yeah?" Alice still didn't get it.

The shadow says, "All the jabberwocks come from a proud warrior culture. Don't they say they live by the sword, die by the sword?"

"Yes. So you want me to kill the Jabberwock with his vorpal blade?"

The shadow sighs. "In a way. Tell me, what is the punishment for every crime in jabberwock society?"

Alice thinks for a moment. "Hara kari by their own vorpal blade! It's an honor thing. If they don't do it, they would be disgraced! Hari kari is where they take their own vorpal blade and cut through their stomach to kill themselves."

"I know what it is! I'm your shadow, remember?"

Alice and her shadow cross their arms. Alice says, sounding a bit hurt, "So you want me to prove he stole the tarts?"

"Yes, well, I want you to make the Jabberwock confess to stealing the tarts, which is even better because a jabberwock is bound by honor never to lie."

"Well that's a dumb plan, because he's never confessed before."

"Arggh!" the shadow cries out. They put their hands to the sides of their heads in exasperation. "That's why you gotta use the card! Do you remember its rule for poker?"

Alice tries to think, her mouth shifting from side to side. "Not really. I remember it was a strange rule."

"Ugh! Am I the only one who's been paying attention around here?"

Alice and her shadow shrug.

"Fine!" says the shadow. "Here's the rule:

If him you are dealt when poker's the game,

Your opponents must fold then confess,

The one thing they feel is their own greatest shame,

Because he's the Thirteen of Heartless!

"Now I leave it up to you two from here. I'm sick of you both! Oh, how I long to go back to being just a simple, silent shadow of a single Alice!"

The shadow disappears just as Alice is saying, "Where are you going?"

Alice is thinking that next, she will take the card from her pocket and try to rouse it into speaking again. But when she takes him out and shakes him, he merely giggles—nothing more.

She taps the top of her hat and sees Malice again, but Malice is just walking, so it's not very interesting.

So Alice continues onward, and soon she sees the Jabberwock ahead and approaches him.

Chapter 27 Jabberwocky

"Hidy ho", he says. He smiles a fanginous grin.

I don't know if you know, but jabberwocks are quite frightening creatures, two times taller than the average thirteen-year-old girl, with veiny wings and sharp dripping fangs and long razor-sharp claws. Plus a barbed tail to boot. Horrible, nightmarish monsters, they are.

Alice curtsies. "Hello."

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Alice."

"Well, um, thank you."

"You're welcome. So how would you like to die? Vorpal blade?" He wiggles it in his claw. "Claws?" He crinkles his free claw. "Jaws?" He clacks his teeth together twice. "You know, by the way, that's a very lovely hat."

"Oh," she says flirtatiously. "Fancy a game of poker over it?"

"A game of poker? Why you're just a little girl."

She puts the tip of her finger to the side of her mouth. "Yes, just a little bitty girly compared to you. Why, you aren't gonna kill me are you? It hardly seems fair."

"Awww." He sets the blade down. "I was just trying to scare you a little. Really, as long as you don't try to cross the line of the Eighth Square, we can be nice and friendly."

"But if I try?"

"I'd have to kill you. It's my job. You know..." He sighs. "Us jabberwocks have really been given a bad rap, always portrayed as rampaging monsters who go around killing for no reason. It all has to do with that silly poem. But we are really a proud and honorable species. We don't go around killing innocent creatures." He makes a creepy funny attempt at a smile. "Or innocent little girls. For no good reason, that is."

Alice grins at him angelically and looks cute. "I'm innocent. Are you?"

His creepy grin falters some. "Pardon?"

"No pardon, that's the point. You say you're honorable, but you've never confessed to stealing the tarts. But if you confessed, would you do the honorable thing?"

"Of course. I'd perform seppuku with my own vorpal sword."

"Hari kari?! So let me get this straight. If I can get you to confess today, you will kill yourself? You wouldn't just kill me?"

"No. Absolutely not. That would be dishonorable."

"You wouldn't wait for your day at trial? They never filed charges right?"

"I wouldn't wait, because we all know what the verdict'd be. My confession would be irrefutable evidence, for jabberwocks are sooo honorable that they are incapable of lying. And the Queen's court doesn't allow 'hari kari' as you so inaccurately call it—they'd want to behead me by guillotine. And dying that way would be...dishonorable."

"Well, if jabberwocks are soooo honorable, well, help me understand. Why would one of them commit the crime of stealing the tarts, hypothetically speaking?"

"Well, hypothetically maybe a jabberwock might have debts and didn't realize taking the tarts was such a serious offense and thought the tarts were free for the taking. But he should have known better than to think that bitch of a queen could be so generous."

"I see," Alice says. "So did you steal the tarts?"

The Jabberwock sighs. "I assert my right to remain silent on that matter."

She decides to use her newfound skill of lying. Despite the fact that the old version of herself always thought he was a secret sweetheart, she says, "Well I must confess, you certainly seem more pleasant than I imagined. I always see you at my unbirthday parties, but I've always been intimidated by you and your blade."

"Oh, I'm not so bad, am I?"

"Well you're not like the others. You always stand back. Never participate."

"Oh I like to watch them torment you. They come up with such creative ways!"

"Isn't that dishonorable?"

"Hey, as long as I'm not the one doing it, what's the harm?" He shrugs.

Alice shrugs too, now grins. "Okay, one last question before we get down to playing cards. Why do you guard the Eighth Square?"

"Well no one in Wonderland wants you to escape or become a queen. That would ruin all the fun. So I guard it to keep you out."

"Become a queen?"

"Yes, if you ever were to enter an eighth square, you'd become a queen. Hey, you know, I think I'd really like a game of poker right now."

Alice nods, reaches into her dress for the pack of cards. "Shall we play?"

"Oh, let's! I do so love playing cards!"

Alice sits cross-legged in the grass and begins to shuffle. She hopes she is dealt the Thirteen of Heartless, but she doesn't know how to cheat, so she just shuffles the way she normally would. She remembers the Thirteen of Heartless saying something about how he could show up in a deck anywhere he wanted to.

Let's hope so.

The Jabberwock sets his blade down and mimics sitting cross-legged in front of her.

She can't help but giggle and make a mocking wriggle at him. "Why, you look so dainty sitting that way!"

Alice doesn't know if jabberwocks can blush, but she thinks he almost does. He says, "Well, anything for a bit of a game."

Something occurs as she shuffles. "You know, I heard that when one commits hari kari, there is someone with a sword who beheads them right after they slice their tummy. Is that true?"

"Yes, they're called the 'second'. They do it to relieve the suffering, because the pain can be excruciating."

"My, that's a big word! But isn't it cheating?"

The Jabberwock looks outraged and offended. "It most definitely is not! It is completely honorable. Why, a jabberwock would never cheat! Why cheating is...why it's a terrible thing to do! I'm offended you should even think that!"

"Okay, okay. Sorry! Let's play shall we? Put the pot in." She sets her hat on the ground between them. "What you got?"

The Jabberwock digs in a pouch on a strap at his side. "Three, four, five gold coins? Is that satisfactory?"

Alice nods, then the Jabberwock adds it to the pot.

Alice says, "Now, cut the deck." She holds the deck out to him. "I'm sorry that the cards are so small compared to your, you know, humongous razor sharp claws."

"Oh, it's okay. I'm quite dexterous. It's just my eyes that are the problem. You'll see when you get my age."

"You use big words." (She really doesn't think the words are that big, but she's practicing her deception skills.)

Amazingly, he manages to use the tips of his claws to cut the deck.

As she deals five cards to each of them, Alice makes small talk. "So, if I crossed the line to the Eighth Square, would you enjoy killing me?"

"Oh, very much so. Little girls have so much red inside of them. You don't notice until you bring it out of them."

"Ah, I never really thought about it that way."

"That's because you're a prissy, innocent little girl." He takes the five cards in his claws. The cards are rather tiny in comparison to his claws. It's amazing that he can manage to hold them so well. "Hold on a second." He rummages again in his pouch, brings out a pair of spectacles and puts them on. "It's the eyes that are the problem, you see."

Alice nods supportively.

She looks at her own hand. She has four jokers and the Ace of Spades. There isn't a Thirteen of Heartless, which is what she wants, so she turns in four cards, so she'll get four back.

The Jabberwock turns in zero cards. She peers at him, but his poker face is inscrutable. Despite the fact it doesn't help her game, she likes his poker face, because it doesn't reveal his scary fangs.

Alice looks at the four cards she's been dealt back. The Thirteen of Heartless is amongst them, the others are two jokers and the Ace of Spades. So it turns out the Thirteen of Heartless is capable of cheating after all, not that she minds.

She shouts, "I have the Thirteen of Heartless! That means you have to fold and confess!"

She isn't sure what's supposed to happen next, but what does happen is that the Thirteen of Heartless begins to glow.

In a dazed voice, the Jabberwock says, "I fold. I had five jokers. But what's this about confessing?"

As she gathers the cards up, she says, "Yes, is there something you'd like to tell me?"

A look of exquisite perturbation comes over the Jabberwock's face. He tries to fight it for several more seconds, but finally he blurts, "Okay, I stole the Queen's tarts, okay? I confess!"

With a condescending pout, Alice says, "Well, you know what happens now. You must do the honorable thing."

"Yes," he says. He bows his head. He scooches his glasses up, now picks up the vorpal blade.

Does he not realize he doesn't need the glasses anymore? Perhaps I should tell him, she thinks, but she doesn't want to break his momentum. She slips the deck into her pocket.

The Jabberwock meanwhile kneels in the grass, with the vorpal blade laid out in front of him. Alice stands in front of him, watching the ceremony with a big grin on her face.

The Jabberwock begins to recite his poem.

The Jabberwocky code has made,

Us conduct ourselves with honor.

We live and die by our own blade,

So soon, I shall be a goner.

I kneel today in loathsome shame.

I'm fully confessing my crime.

And for this dishonour to my name,

It's hari kari time.

The Jabberwocky creed, it is firm,

Every sentence the same, there's just one:

To wriggle my guts like a worm,

For soon with my blade they'll be spun!

I stole the tarts, it now is clear,

Beyond any and all disavowal.

So with my vorpal blade, I fear,

It's time to disembowel!

One two! One two! Now a fatal boo boo,

By my own vorpal blade has been done!

And now with a stir that's so fast it's a blur.

Ow, see how my entrails are spun!

I feel so much pain as I'm dying,

I ask of you, behead me please!

I see now that you are not crying,

But I beg of you here on my knees!

Delicately, the Jabberwock transfers the sword by its bloody handle to Alice. It is dripping all over red.

Now Alice decides to make up some poetry, recalling the old Jabberwocky poem and mimicking a stanza.

"And will I slay the Jabberwock?

Death by my hands, a coocoolicious girl!

O frabjuous day! Callooh! Callay!

I chortle as I whirl!"

Alice spins in order to give force to her blow. The Jabberwock is upright, exposing his neck for her. When she whirls completely back around, blade out, there is no one two—there is only one, as the vorpal blade slices cleanly through the Jabberwock's neck. His head flings off to the side and the neck stump gushes with blood.

Alice is quite satisfied with herself. She is after all, not a skilled swordsman. She watches the body twitch until it is still. She looks to the Jabberwock's head—its eyes are still open, but staring dead.

She throws the blade to the ground, then inspects her hands, covered in blood.

"Ooh icky!" she proclaims with wrinkled nose.

She does her best to clean her hands, puts the hat back on.

She hears a crunching sound and looks down to see that she has stepped on the Jabberwock's glasses. "Oopsy! You'll have to schedule an appointment with the optimist or you shan't be able to read!"

She looks over at the Jabberwock's head.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. If you didn't want them stepped on, you shouldn't have left them lying about."

The Jabberwock doesn't respond.

Alice walks toward the outer edge of the Eight Square. Just before she enters, she tries again, saying, "Shadow? Shadow are you there?" But the shadow doesn't appear. She shrugs, then steps over.

Chapter 28 Showdown

Alice crosses the outer line of the Eighth Square. As she does, she feels a sudden weight atop her head. She discovers that there is a crown underneath her top hat. "Of all the curious headgear!" she exclaims. "Imagine wearing two hats at once, when one of them would do! It's unfitting for a queen, if that's what I am now."

She taps the top of her hat but has no vision of Malice. "This thing doesn't work, anyway."

So she takes off the hat and holds it in her hand and is satisfied with just the crown on her head. And now she enters the Looking Glass House and looks around. It's been so long since she's been in here, but it's like she last left it, except much dustier.

Perhaps I should dust it as I wait. I do hope I don't have to wait too long.

When she walks into the room where the looking glass is, the room looks like an ordinary room, with the looking glass on the wall. There's the clock on the mantelpiece. There's the table with the chess board on it and its pieces.

She almost doesn't want to, but she looks into the mirror. She has no reflection. She first came to Wonderland through the mirror, and she wonders if she can leave through it as well. But when she presses her fingertip to its surface, she finds it's just a solid, regular mirror. Perhaps when she had a heart, that might have made her cry, but the tears don't come. All she knows is that she must get her reflection and her heart back, but she can't really remember why.

She sighs. "This place is a mess! Is there a duster about?"

There is a cabinet set against one of the walls—as she's opening it and peering inside, she sees there are a couple of books and an old stopwatch. She is just about to investigate these curious relics when she hears someone call out behind her, "I hope I'm not too late...for your unhappy birthday party."

Alice turns around to see Malice standing in the doorway. Malice is also wearing a crown, holding the bloody vorpal sword in one hand and a large blue cloth sack in the other.

Alice says, "Malice. Welcome. What's in the sack?"

"It's a surprise for later, for your unhappy birthday party."

"You mean our happy birthday party."

"Oh yeah, right."

"So my shadow told me you've decided to recombine with me in the mirror?"

Malice nods. "Absolutely. And I brought our heart too. The Mad Hatter had it, the jerk. But I gave him a little justice."

Alice nods. She points. "The magic Looking Glass is over there. If we get reflected by it at the same time, we'll come together again, just like before."

Malice looks. "Yes, I can't wait. I just want things to be the same as before. Less complicated that way. But first, we have to deal with the heart."

"Hmm? Why not recombine first and then deal with the heart?"

Malice rolls her eyes. "Are you stupid? You need to play the game using the card to get your heart back, right? You can't play by yourself. That wouldn't work, right?"

"Wouldn't it?" Alice isn't sure.

"Well, of course not. You need someone else to play with. Our shadow explained it to me. The order of events has to be, put the heart in first, then recombine in the Looking Glass."

"But only one of us can win the heart. How will that work?"

"Well, my dumb twin, that's how games work right? There's a winner and a loser." She rolls her eyes. "Trust me, it'll work. Just one of us needs to win the heart, then in the looking glass mirror, it'll make us the same again...it'll make us mirror reflections."

"Are you sure?" Alice asks.

Malice nods. "Absolutely. Trust me?"

"Well, sure. You're me, kind of. Gotta trust myself, right?"

Malice nods. "Right."

Alice sets the top hat open end up on the table next to the chess board. "So the game will be—"

Malice interrupts. "Yeah yeah our shadow told me all about it. If one of us tosses the Thirteen of Heartless in the hat, that person will be able to put our heart back in. Let's play! It's only a matter of time before someone makes it."

Malice reaches into her sack and pulls out a wooden heart-shaped box. There are still objects inside the sack. Malice opens the box to show the heart to Alice.

It looks like a cartoon version of a red heart, but around the edges, it's turning black.

Malice, seeing her expression, explains, "It gets blacker the longer it's left out. But don't worry. It will probably recover once it's in the proper place inside one of our chests!"

Alice says, "Yes, that's where it has to go. I'm sure there must be a good reason to have a heart. After all, many had to die to recover it, so I suppose we should get to it."

Malice grins, says, "Exactly."

So they get to work taking turns tossing the Thirteen of Heartless at the hat. After half a dozen times or so, Alice finally makes it. "Ha! You lose."

Malice just sticks her tongue out playfully.

Alice picks the heart up out of its box. She's still holding the card, which begins to glow with a white light. Not quite knowing what to do, she presses the hand holding her heart onto her chest.

Her hand begins to go into her chest, as if she's pressing it into a reflection of herself on top of water. She feels no pain, only a soothing warmth.

"It's working!" Alice shouts.

"Wonderful!" Malice shouts.

When Alice's hand reaches the point in her chest she thinks a heart should be, she lets go. She feels the heart twist, shift inside her, settle into place. She pulls her hand out. She places her hand atop her chest and she smiles big as she feels her heart beating.

She raises her head to look at Malice, but before she entirely lifts her chin, she feels a hard blow to the side of her head, almost knocking her off her feet. She shouts in surprise.

She stands dazed for a few seconds, dizzy. She feels her hand jerked down and she falls to the ground. Before she can get her bearings, she feels another blow to her head.

Now she feels as if her hands are being held behind her, hears clanking sounds. She can offer no resistance, stunned as she is. "What?—" She raises her head to see Malice grinning down at her, holding keys in front of her.

Malice says, "I bet you're wondering what's going on."

Alice just stares stupidly, still dazed.

Malice says, "Well, I just knocked your head about a couple of times, then while you were out of it, I chained your hands to the table leg there."

Alice pulls at her wrists, but they're bound behind her. She hears the tinkle of metal chains. "Why?"

"Why? I'll tell you why. First, as to this card." She holds it up for Alice to see, then rips it in half—the card shrieks pitifully. Malice tosses the two halves of the card in opposite directions.

"Why did you do that? He did you no harm!" Alice feels tears well up in her eyes and begin to roll down her cheeks. At the same time, she kind of feels that the card was funny when it shrieked like that.

Malice looks down at her disdainfully. "Eww. That's gross. I had to make myself cry recently. Had to use peppers in my eyes. Never again. But you, with your heart. Why you seem to cry on a dime! If only I had a dime!" She rolls her eyes.

Alice tries to discreetly test her chains, but they tinkle.

Malice says, "I wouldn't try." She tosses the keys on the ground, then lifts the vorpal blade from the table top. "I'll kill you with no remorse if you try to escape. I'm quite heartless, unlike you. But then again, your heart is partially blackened, so that should prove interesting."

Alice doesn't know whether to risk trying to fight her way out or not, but then she remembers. "But if you cut me, you cut yourself. We're mirror images."

"Dummy! When I knocked you upside your head, did I knock me on the noggin too?" At Alice's blank expression, Malice answers, "No, I didn't. Once you got the heart, we ceased being mirror images. Why, I could kill you if I wanted, and it wouldn't affect me. And you know what? I planned this all along. That's why I let you win on purpose in the hat tossing game. I'm more clever than you, you see. Besides, who would actually want a heart anyway? So inconvenient." She's beaming with pride. "And maybe having a black heart is worse than having no heart at all!"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing. Oh, well I guess you'll see, won't you? I might just let you live to watch it torment you. They poison the soul."

Alice starts trembling. She definitely doesn't want to die. Meekly she says, "What do you want?"

"You mean, why am I not killing you right now? I'll tell you in a sec. But first, I have prezzies for your unhappy birthday party!" She does her best to clap while holding the vorpal blade. She backs away, kneels, reaches her free hand into the sack.

Meanwhile, Alice is wondering if she might slip the chain off the table leg, then rush Malice, but she has that blade. Or maybe she could reason with her, or maybe Malice has some reason to keep her alive...

Malice pulls the Jabberwock's head out of the sack. "Behold! Scary monster! You did this!"

Alice feels remorse wash over her. "I—that wasn't me. I mean, I was heartless then." She recalls stepping on the Jabberwock's glasses and stifles a giggle. That's so wrong to think like that. What's wrong with me? Remorse comes over her again.

"Wo ho ho! I wouldn't have believed it! But having a heart really makes you all sorry and regretful and stuff? Wow! I mean, whoa! I just had to see it with my own eyes, before I kill you. Oh, but I have another gift."

Alice feels more tears rolling down her face. Did she just say she was going to kill me? Should I make a last ditch effort to try to save my life?

Malice pulls another head from the sack. She is holding it by the top, presenting it to Alice. It's the Cheshire Cat's head.

The cat's head yawns, but Malice can't see. Malice says, "Now this is a grand trophy. I want to make a collection of heads."

The cat's head opens its eyes, sees Alice and the grin widens on its face.

Meanwhile, Malice says, "Before I kill you, I want you to realize just how clever I was in killing this guy. And I did kill him. He only had one of his nine lives left. And me and the Queen of Hearts—"

The body of the Cheshire Cat materializes beneath his head, then twists in a blur. Alice sees red claw marks sprout on Malice's face, going from her temple to across her eyes. She shrieks, drawing back, striking out with the blade that connects solidly with the front shoulder of the cat. The cat crashes to the ground and lies bleeding. He stands and hisses at Malice.

Malice, her face now bleeding profusely, still holding the blade, seems to consider for several long moments what to do next, before she flees out through the door of the hut. She shouts, "This isn't over!"

The cat says, "I think she's gone."

Alice says, "I thought you used up your nine lives."

"Well, I suppose I must have miscounted. Did it take me long to come back to life?"

"Nah. I think you chose the right moment."

"Thanks I think. It's been a strange day. I met a hot kitty today. And next thing I know, I'm here."

With a crazy laugh, Alice says, "Strange?! Why yes, I'll say it's strange! Imagine a world where one's own reflection tries to kill you, and cats actually have nine lives! Why it is a world that could only exist in a dream!" She shuts her eyes tightly. "Why this must all be a dream!"

She opens her eyes to see the Cheshire Cat's head floating woefully in front of her. "I'm afraid not, my Queen."

Alice wipes a tear from her cheek. "Maybe I can go back through the Looking Glass?"

"Maybe."

"Even though I don't have a reflection."

The cat shakes his floating head. "Well, no, you can't go through the mirror if you don't have a reflection, my Queen. But the good news is that now you are a queen."

Alice sighs, now it suddenly strikes her—the realization of what she has done, the characters she killed, when she didn't have a heart. She feels overwhelmed with sorrow and guilt and the tears well up and flow down her face, dripping on the ground.

But despite the sorrow, she is so grateful to have her heart back, and a part of her feels it really was pretty funny the various ways she killed all those characters.

But no, I mustn't think that way.

She spies the keys lying on the ground. She rattles her chains. "Can you help me get out of these things?"

"Yes, Queen Alice."

PART THREE

Malice in Wonderland #2

Chapter 29 Night Night

"What will I do now?" Alice asks, half to herself, half to the floating, maniacally-grinning cat head in front of her.

"Get some rest, My Queen. It has been a long day."

"Indeed it has." She sits down upon her bed, glances at the ashes of the guard card a short distance away. Her unhappy unbirthday cake still rests atop the table, covered in the wax of twelve melted candles. "I started the morning in my hut, and here I am again. I suppose I'm a creature of habit. I couldn't figure out where else to go."

She definitely needs rest. Her eyelids are drooping.

The Cheshire Cat is gazing at her pityingly. "Don't be too hard on yourself My Queen. We all prefer our own beds to rest our heads on." He yawns now, as if reminded of his own fatigue.

She feels the need to confess to someone, to anyone, and the Cheshire Cat is the only one around. Well, there's the Thirteen of Heartless in her pocket, but he seems to be in a lamentable state indeed, torn in half as he is, and seems preoccupied by his own woeful state. She thinks tape might fix him, tomorrow that is, when she's not so tired. And so she confesses to the Cheshire Cat, trying to convey her earnestness with her eyes. "I'm so sorry for killing Humpty Dumpty, and the Caterpillar, and causing the death of the Tweedle twins. Have I left anyone out? If so, I'm sorry. But that wasn't me. That was the heartless me. And now that I have my heart again, I wish I could undo all the murders. I truly do."

The Cat's eyes roll upward toward his forehead as he thinks. "There might be a way, but it must be done quickly, before your heart grows too black."

Alice had her heart stolen early in the day, then regained it later, but during those hours, it had blackened along the edges from being outside her body. But surely it will return to its normal state now that it's back, beating inside her chest!

Her face screws up in anger. "Do not say that, even as a joke! My heart will heal."

The Cheshire Cat looks taken aback. Indeed, his floating head even flies backward a few inches. "Of course, My Queen. I meant only to say, that the sooner it is done, the better, especially in these trying times."

She huffs. "We should not just try, we should do."

"Yes, My Queen."

"But why should I believe you anyhow, when just earlier today, you wanted me to shoot myself in the head for your entertainment?"

"Well, things were different then. That was before I was bound to serve you. You are My Queen now. Of course, Malice isn't. I would still love to see her blow her brains out, no offense."

"No offense taken." She yawns quite dramatically and her head nods a little.

"Yes, I don't appreciate her taking one of my nine lives. I believe I now have only one left, if my counting is right."

Alice, too tired to speak, intends to nod, but her nod only completes the halfway downward part, which rests her chin upon her chest and she falls asleep for a few seconds.

The Cheshire Cat says, "Oh, you look so tired. Get some rest. I'm not quite as tired as you. I will gather some information while you sleep. Report it to you tomorrow morning, okay?"

"O...kay." Yawn.

Groggily, she takes her crown and top hat off, sheds her dress, leans back into bed. The Cat's floating head bites the edges of the blanket to pull it over her and tuck her in. She feels him kiss her forehead, whisper into her ear, "Goodnight My Queen." Purrs in her ear.

"G'night kitty."

Chapter 30 Groundhog Day

The day had been long and troubling, and Alice is consumed by guilt as she sleeps and tosses and turns. She relives her murderous deeds of the day, but this time, she feels remorse. Her dream ends with her slamming against the inside of a stagecoach with Malice laughing beside her. While Alice groans after the accident, Malice pushes her backward into the seat, punches her fist into Alice's chest and pulls out her partially blackened heart.

She startles awake, eyes popping open. In a panic, her hand goes to her chest. She is relieved to feel the racing heartbeat.

She takes a moment to sort out in her head what is real, what is dream.

She often dreams that she is back in the outside world, but now as she looks around, she realizes she is still in Wonderland.

Another disappointing start of a day.

She picks the torn-in-half card up in her hands. "Thirteen of Heartless?" she inquires timidly. He's called that because he has thirteen heart-shaped holes.

The card moans, says, "Yes, what is it?"

"You're torn in half. Would you like me to fix you?"

He sighs. "Yes. I suppose it's not proper for a card to be in two pieces like this, for one might be confused as to whether I'm a Thirteen of Heartless or whether I'm actually two half-cards of 6 1/2... Wouldn't one?" The face which has appeared on the top half of him, fixes Alice with a look.

"You mean me?"

"Yes you. You're a One of Hearts again."

She sighs. "Not that again. I'm just a girl, not a card. Come, I'll fix you with tape."

As she carries him over to her writing desk, the card mumbles, "Yes, fix me just like I helped fix you. You owe me so much, little girl."

(The card had made up a rule that made it possible for Alice to take her heart out, or put it back in. Alice had been lucky to recover her heart, and use the card to put it back in, unlike her twin and former mirror-reflection Malice, who started out heartless and remains so.)

Alice lines up the pieces of the card on her desk. After a quick taping, she slips the tape and scissors in the pockets of her black dress, which have the amazing ability to hold numerous objects without it being visible from the outside. "There you go! It's not the prettiest mend, but at least you're together again."

The card sniffs. "Sort of."

Alice frowns. "Yes. Sort of. I'm sorry I couldn't do better."

"Harrumph!" He scowls. He doesn't have any arms right now (he did before he shrunk) but she imagines that if he had them, he'd be crossing them.

"Hey," she says, frowning slightly from the icky feeling of being rebuked. "Twasn't I who tore you."

"Yes, it was your twin, Malice. We should get her back. You should definitely stop talking to me and get your day started, get moving toward that task."

"But I just barely woke up. I don't even know what I'm going to do with the day."

"Well, I suggest you get revenge on Malice for me. Kill her maybe. Call me when you need me." His little mouth sets firm.

"Well, I don't know how I would accomplish that all before the day ends. But...call you, you say? Do you still work, even though you were torn up?"

"Yes, I still work, though I quite stand out in a deck, which is unacceptable. You should tape all the rest of the cards in the deck to match me. But why are we still talking? You must attend to your morning chores before your adventure and eventual killing of Malice. Or maiming. I'll settle for maiming."

Alice says, "Chores?"

"Ack! Why, I'm referring to making yourself presentable for the day's adventures, won't you my girl? Your hair wants a comb, your teeth a brushing, your eyes an unbagging under em. Time's a-wastin'. Tut tut! I'm done talking." His mouth sets firm again.

"Yes you're quite right. No matter what this day holds, it is no day for dilly dallying. Let's get on with it."

Alice sets about getting ready, which is difficult now that she no longer has a reflection. She breaks her fast with a small meal of crumpets and scones.

Now she sits upon her bed with wet hair, at a loss as to what to do next. The Cheshire Cat has still not arrived, despite her calling out to him. She would very much like his guidance and insight.

She glances at the Mad Hatter's top hat, set upon the nightstand.

She thinks, That hat can be used three times a day, and it is a brand new day.

She sets her Queen's crown atop her head, underneath the Mad Hatter's "special hat". Before he died, the Hatter used it to spy on Alice, but when Alice uses it, she can spy on her twin, Malice.

She taps the top of the magic top hat.

Her vision shifts and she is now gazing upon a scene as if she is floating slightly above and a short distance away. She sees Malice, who is sitting in her throne in the throne room of the Queen of Heart's castle. She is wearing her cat suit, and a mask which conceals the upper half of her face, probably to hide the wicked scratch the Cheshire Cat gave her from her temple to across her eyes. It's a wonder she wasn't blinded. She isn't wearing her crown. Various person-sized cards with hands and legs stand about holding spears, and the Duchess's cook is also there, without a spear.

Malice in midsentence continues..."Kill Alice as soon as possible. They tell me she has returned to her hut. Go there. Tell me as soon as it's done."

Alice's eyes go wide in alarm.

Malice continues speaking. "And as to the scientist who came through the mirror, I must say I'm pleased. Her knowledge will serve us well. I want to shift my focus onto her. See what we can get out of her. I do believe we may transform all of Wonderland and may even be able to cross over into the realm from which she came. Imagine the possibilities! The power! Oh, I do so love wielding power! I don't want her abused. Not yet. We must approach this opportunity carefully. We may want to bring many more over through the Looking Glass. We shall have to see. And bring me that book of poetry she brought. I want to look at it, and quit standing around!"

The cards scamper off, leaving Malice and the cook behind.

Malice says, "I hope to get rid of this Alice nuisance before I breakfast. Now, cook, I want black pudding, and scones and—"

At this point, Alice takes the top hat off. Her view of the scene leaves off, before she can get a notion of what Malice would desire beyond scones.

Alice gasps. Oh, dear me, why does Malice wish to kill me? Why, we should be like sisters! Alice feels saddened that her twin hates her so, and begins to cry. Perhaps we can work something out. Her thoughts turn dark. Or perhaps I might have to kill Malice, to be safe. She's basically forcing me! Oh dear, the guards might be here any moment to kill me!

She calls out, "Cat! Mister Cheshire Cat!"

His grin appears in the air before her, just the grin, and the cat's mouth says, "Yes, My Queen, I'm here." The rest of his head begins to appear. He typically chooses to make only his head appear to eliminate the risk of being beheaded (because many believe that one can't be beheaded if one doesn't have a body).

She hears a sound outside, and rushes to the window. Something is churning the grass outside. It looks as if a creature is burrowing up from the ground!

She feels her slightly-blackened heart begin to race in her chest. Is it her executioners arriving to kill her? But why would they travel underground like that?

Alice turns back to the Cheshire Cat, whose head has fully formed now. He's grinning as usual. She shouts, "Cat, we've got to flee. The Queen has sent someone or something to kill me!"

The Cat nudges his chin to over her shoulder, says, "Oh, you mean him? He's not here to kill you, but he is your way to flee before Malice's guards get here. He's a bit early, but that's lucky for us. Come, let's speak to him."

The Cat's head whizzes toward the door as Alice looks warily out the window. She sees the snout of some brown-furred creature poke out from the ground and sniff the air.

She bites her lip in worry. When she looks back at the Cheshire Cat, he says, "You're going to have to trust me. I know that yesterday I wanted you dead, but that's all water under the bridge. I serve you now as My Queen."

Yesterday had been Alice's birthday, an unhappy one. So she is now 13 and one day old, and it's beginning to look like today might be another unhappy unbirthday for her.

But her mouth sets in determination. "Very well," she says. "Let us greet our visitor, shall we then? But first I must get rid of this crown. It's heavy and if Malice doesn't wear hers, I shan't either." She sets the crown down and puts the top hat back atop her head.

Soon they are outside in the yard, staring down at a creature's head popping up from the ground. Alice can't quite make out what kind of creature it is as her head tilts from side to side in perusal. A rat perhaps.

The Cat says, "He's a groundhog."

"One of those American creatures that predict winter?"

"Indeed."

The head of the creature fully emerges from the ground, sending clods of moist soil rolling off his head. But he quickly retreats back into the hole. "Greetings," he says in an American accent from inside the hole.

Alice royally waves at him, while trying to look regal. "We welcome you." She knows queens wave this way in parades, holding their hands in the air with their fingers held together and slowly rotating their hand back and forth.

The Groundhog says, "Thank ya kindly. I have come to dig a grave for the body, by order of Her Majesty, Queen Malice." His whiskers twitch so dramatically that Alice feels they betray a profound nervousness on the Groundhog's part.

Alice thinks perhaps she has missed something. She shouts, "What body?" whilst looking all about, all in alarm.

The Cheshire Cat says, "Relax, My Queen. He's come early is all. He's come to dig a grave for you, but he arrived before the guards, so you're not yet dead."

Now the Groundhog is scrutinizing her. "You're Alice? Why, you're still alive! Oh that's what I get for being such an efficient digger! Queen Malice ordered me to dig graves."

Alice does her best to stay calm. "Yes, Malice wants to kill me, but she hasn't done so yet, and I daresay, I'm the better Queen, out of the two of us."

The Groundhog looks left and right as if afraid of being overheard, now he looks up at Alice. "Truth be told, if you will simply leave me alone, you're the better one as far as I'm concerned. I have no interest in digging graves for the victims of some serial killer making his way through Wonderland. I'd much rather be minding my own business digging humble burrows or hibernating. Too much excitement quite unsettles me, you see." The Groundhog looks about timidly. "I apologize, Alice, that you're still alive. It seems I'm too early. Perhaps I should go and come back later." His voice is quite nasal, distractingly so.

The Cat says, "No, please, come out and speak to us. We have desperate need of your tunnels."

"My tunnels? Oh dear, this is quite unexpected."

The Cat says, "Yes, Alice must use them to escape, and perhaps fix things with her tears."

Alice looks questioningly at the Cat, but he ignores her.

"Fix," says the Groundhog, twitching his nose. "I would very much like things fixed! Oh I hate digging graves. There's been too much death all of a sudden."

"Well," says the Cat. "Alice must use your tunnels if she has any hope of reviving the characters that died and of defeating Malice. Please come out. Hurry, we haven't much time."

"Yes," Alice says, "Malice has sent guards to kill me."

The Groundhog sounds and appears anxious. "Just so long as you don't go casting any shadows. I'm deathly afraid of shadows."

Alice says, "I haven't got one. My shadow left me because she was tired of switching back and forth between my reflection and I."

"Very well, then." The Groundhog rises up from the hole. He's quite large, which is quite fortunate, because otherwise, Alice wouldn't be able to fit in his burrow, if she chose to do so, that is.

The Cat says, "Now, I must ask of you—" But he doesn't get to complete his sentence because the Groundhog shrieks. "You're casting a shadow! Back to my hole I must go!" He begins to turn, but the Cat says, "No, wait. I'll go." And with that he begins to disappear, until his grin is left in the air, then that disappears too.

The Groundhog is trembling. He's also casting a shadow, but it's behind him, where he can't see.

Alice gazes down at him in concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I think so. Oh, this is what I get for arriving early! Oh, I'm sorry. It's not your fault. I apologize if I'm inconveniencing you."

"Oh, don't fret about that. It is I who should apologize. But it turns out, I might very well be dead quite soon." Her eyes begin to fill with tears as she begins to feel sorry for herself. "The Cheshire Cat seems to think I should go into your burrow if I am to escape. Tell me, please, where does it go?"

"Well, it's unpleasant to say, but it leads to all the bodies of those recently departed, from one to the next. See, Queen Malice appointed me to dig their graves, so I've been traveling from body to body. I prefer to travel underground."

"Oh that is dreadful! The tunnel leads to bodies! Oh, I feel so terrible about my, um, part in it all. I don't know how I could stand to see them again!" Now tears begin to flow down her face.

"I'm sorry. Yes, all this death is terrible."

"Yes, but the Cat said something about reviving them, so perhaps some good will come of it. But you referred to Queen Malice. What of the Queen of Hearts?"

"Queen Malice overthrew her yesterday. So now Queen Malice is in charge."

"Oh what a dreadful predicament! So she commands all the guard cards? How am I to survive the day? And shall I tumble about in your tunnels like a billiard ball rolling about in its chutes! Oh, I'll be so claustrophobic!" She is taking big sobbing breaths now, the tears rolling down her face and dripping onto the ground. "Oh, why must everything always go wrong for me! I am to be like a billiard ball, but it's like I'm always behind the eight ball!" She bends over to peer inside the hole to see how deep it is—it's at most five feet deep.

"Oh, I'm so sorry to see you in such a dreadful state."

"I'm sorry. I'm crying in your burrow. But—" She sees something move from the bottom of the hole, something dark. She gasps. "What's that?"

"What?" says the Groundhog.

Something propels itself up through the hole. Alice draws back with a shriek. A black ball rolls out from the hole, then rolls menacingly toward Alice. She backs away, and now it's resting just on the outside edge of the burrow.

It's a black ball with a white circle with a black number.

"Why, it's an eight ball!" Alice exclaims.

Indeed, it is, a quite large one—it would reach to the bottom of her chin, if she stood right in front of it.

Chapter 31 Behind the Eight Ball

The Groundhog, shuddering violently, stammers, "Where'd that come from? It wasn't there before." He looks as if he might flee at any moment.

Alice peers at it. It's just sitting quietly like an ordinary ball. It has none of the eyes or mouths or arms that many of the animated objects of Wonderland have. "Can you speak?"

It doesn't move or speak. Her hand goes to her chin. "How curious! Why, when I was looking down the hole, I happened to think how it was like a chute for billiard balls, then I thought of an eight ball! It seems unlikely to be a coincidence."

Sulkily the Groundhog chimes in, "Yes, and whilst doing your peering you cried all over the inside of my burrow. My lovely burrow!"

"Yes, well, sorry about that. Wait, my tears! Maybe they brought this eight ball into being. Why, I never believed all that mumbo jumbo about my tears being magical, put perhaps it is so!"

Whilst peering intently at the ball, without looking at Alice, the Groundhog says, "Yes, I never quite believed it either. I heard that the Tweedle twins liked to lick them because they were so delicious, that the Queen of Hearts used them on her face to make her more beautiful. Why, I wonder what else they could do..."

Alice is only halfway paying attention to the Groundhog. She stares at the Eight Ball. She takes a step to her left. The Eight Ball shifts slightly in the same direction.

Alice turns to the right, takes a few steps forward, and the ball moves too, around the outside of the burrow hole.

Alice exclaims, "Why it seems to be protecting the hole!"

The Groundhog whimpers. "Protecting? Oh, how shall I ever get back into my burrow? My beautiful burrow!"

"Well, I daresay if you try to enter that one, the ball may very well roll you over. Perhaps start a new one?"

"Oh, poor little me! I suppose I could, if I must, but I do so grow attached to my burrows! It's just the way us groundhogs are! But tell me, what would it take for me to make you cry?"

"Huh?" Alice says. She begins to run around in a circle, and the Eight Ball goes around too, matching her movement.

Alice stops running and stands with her hands on her hips, trying to figure the situation. "It's blocking my way into the burrow. I am literally behind the eight ball!"

"So," the Groundhog says, "if I were to get some of your magic tears on me, what do you think they'd do?"

"Huh?" Alice turns absently toward the Groundhog.

"Would they give me super burrowing abilities? It seems like they would, don't you think?"

Alice fixes him with a look of disgust. "What are you talking about?"

Just then a movement in the forest area surrounding the yard catches her eye.

She turns to see a small group of cards moving through the forest, holding spears in their hands. One of them shouts, "Halt, Queen Alice. We're here to take you into custody!"

"They're here!" she shouts.

"Oh, dear!" shouts the Groundhog. He takes a few steps toward his burrow, but the Eight Ball rolls around and threateningly toward him. "Oh dear! What shall I do?" Now he seems to be muttering to himself. "I must make her cry, yes, use her magic tears. Give myself powers with 'em."

Alice watches in terror as the group of cards approaches.

She fights the urge to panic. What can I do? The Eight Ball blocks the burrow. The cards have orders to kill me on sight, I'm sure of it.

She feels a sharp pain on her right calf. She looks down to see the Groundhog biting her. In reflex, she punches him on the top of his head, causing him to back off.

The Groundhog shouts, "Ow! Why aren't you crying? Don't you want to cry on me, you little urchin?"

Alice looks around in a panic to see cards approaching from all sides now. There's only a little more time until they arrive.

The Groundhog looks around too, shrieks. "The shadows! They're all casting shadows. Stupid wench. Cry, little wench!"

Despite the welling panic inside, Alice tries to consider her options. Maybe if she cries on the Groundhog it might do something magical and he might help her fight off the cards. But she thinks there are too many of the cards.

And the only way to escape is through the Groundhog's burrow.

But the Eight Ball won't let them past.

It seems she's behind the eight ball once again.

She watches the circle of cards approach, thinking, perhaps this is it. Just get it over with.

But now a thought pops into her head. Eight Ball. I'm like the cue ball. What happens in billiards when the eight ball is in the way?

You jump it.

She doesn't have any time to waste. She says to the Groundhog. "We must stand and fight! But my magic tears will make you a superbeing. It's our only chance. You must make me cry."

"Bite you again?"

"No, insult me. Straight to my face. Look directly into my eyes. And tell me true. You gotta tell your true feelings so it'll hurt more." Alice says this because she wants to know what the Groundhog really thinks of her.

He nods okay.

Their eyes lock.

The Groundhog says, "You're stupid and ugly. No one in Wonderland likes you. They just use you. You are, and always will be, an outsider."

She meets his gaze. "Yes, like that. I can feel the tears coming on. Like that. Lower your head a little." And she does indeed feel the tears welling. Hearing his thoughts might relieve her conscience afterward. "More."

"You're a worthless pathetic doormat. Why would anyone give a shilling about you when you don't give a shilling about yourself? If I could, I would slice your throat right now, if I could save myself."

Alice nods eagerly. "Yes, that's it. The tears are almost here. Just meet my gaze. Keep your chin on the ground."

Their eyes relock.

Alice says, "Now just back up a little, and stay very still."

The Groundhog seems briefly confused, but does so.

She runs at him, onto his head and pushes up with her legs and springs up into the air. She soars up, one hand reaching out in front her, the other holding her top hat on. She's afraid she'll slam her head into the Eight Ball, but she feels her stomach press against the top of the ball—now she's sliding—she slides over, now she's falling head first into the Groundhog's burrow.

She has no time to scream.

She lands upside down, curling up into a ball to try to protect herself. She feels the jolt through her body and the wallop on her arms and back.

Her heart is pounding in her ears as she struggles to get right side up.

The panicked voice of the Groundhog comes down to her as if from far away. "Curse you, Alice! You can't just leave me! I only said those things to make you cry. I didn't mean them."

She can't answer for a few seconds as she struggles to right herself. But now she cups her hand over her mouth. She yells, "I'm not an urchin. And you're nothing but a rodent!"

The Groundhog shouts, "Alice, the cards! They're almost upon me! Talk to them! You're a Queen!"

Alice doesn't respond. She wishes she could help, really she does, but it's either him or her, there's nothing to be done about it.

She feels a sudden spasm in her chest where her heart is, then a strange cold sensation beneath the ribs. She touches her chest. This excitement must be getting to me.

She watches the Eight Ball shift, hears the sound of the heavy ball rolling on the grass.

The Groundhog shouts, "The Eight Ball is blocking me! Do something! Please!"

The Groundhog begins to shriek and sob. "No! Ah, please stop! " And now his voice has grown silent.

She tries not to feel sorry for him, but she still does.

Now she only hears shuffling noises of what she imagines are the cards' feet.

Why don't they speak? Ah, now I remember. They are quite simple things, these cards. Apparently, not much brain can fit in such a flat surface. But the Thirteen of Heartless seems to be an exception. I wonder how he manages that.

Alice looks around. A long tunnel extends from one side of the burrow.

An unfamiliar male voice calls down to her. "Alice are you there? Please come out so we can kill you! We have orders from the Queen!"

She calls up, "I am a queen!"

"Not our Queen. So, until you are, we needs must kill you."

"Did you kill the Groundhog?"

"Why not come up and see? Might as well give up right now. Your, um, fate, it's inn, um, eligible?"

She shouts up, "Evitable! It's inevitable!"

"Ah, thank you. I was close."

Alice rolls her eyes, but the gesture is lost on the dirt walls.

The male voice takes on a reasonable tone. "If you don't come up here to be killed, we'll only have to go there to kill you. It's illegible."

Alice keeps from rolling her eyes, shouts, "If you want me, come and get me!"

She watches as a few card legs poke over the edge of the hole, and Alice begins to panic as she fears that soon she will be rained down upon by vicious spear-wielding cards.

The Eight Ball whirls into a crushing spin along the inner edge of the hole before bouncing out, as the cards scream.

Why, it's just like when that happens in billiards! Oh, how I hate that!

She pushes the amputated leg parts off herself, calls up in a mocking voice, "Anyone up there?"

"Yes, come up here this instant, so we can kill you! Queen's orders!"

"Her Majesty denies your request! Why don't you come down here!"

"We will, if you call your eight ball off. It's been quite maloperative!"

Alice's brow furrows, but she is quite clever, and after a few moments thought, she shouts, "Uncooperative?"

"Yes, yes, you know what I meant!"

She shouts, "Look, if you think I'm going to go up there just to get killed, you're dumber than you seem. Tell your Queen we can work together, if we're partners. Perhaps we can even get recombined together in the Looking Glass. But I must go now. You'll forgive me if I don't wish to be killed. Chow."

Chapter 32 Roly-Poly Vengeance

Alice timidly crawls on all fours into the tunnel. It is claustrophobic and dark.

"Oh dear. How will I see where I'm going? How can I do this?" But she really has nowhere else to go, so she continues crawling.

The panic grows, for she has no idea how long she will have to be in this tunnel, or even if she'll ever make it out. She bites her lip in worry.

Everything is pitch black.

She feels something small crawl into her ear canal. It of course, creeps her out, and she is about to freak out, when she hears a tiny whisper in her ear saying, "Don't flick me! I can help you!"

The feeling of the insect in her ear makes her shudder with ticklish sensations. She stops crawling, and says, "Please do, I would be ever so grateful!"

The voice says, in a high-pitched, squeaky voice, "Okay, we will help you. We hope you can help us get revenge."

"You say 'we'. Who—"

"Roly-polies. We are roly-polies, the insects. I'm Colonel Roly Rodney, and my regiment is prepared to aid you, Alice."

At that cue, a chorus of little insect voices in front of her shout out, "Huzzah!"

Alice knows that roly-polies are insects that roll up into tight little balls to protect themselves when they're threatened. She didn't realize they were so well organized, though.

Timidly, she says, "You know who I am?"

"Yes, we remember how kindly you treated us, unlike the others, so we want to help you on your mission."

"Yes, I always tried to leave roly-polies alone. I'd hold the door open for them, if I wasn't chained to my desk, to let them go outside."

"Yes," says the insect leader, "we remember your acts of kindness. Others in Wonderland always like to scare us or tap us to make us roll into balls, because they think we're so amazing and cute! Then they roll us around like little toys! Why, the Tweedles would even play silly games with us, because they were always competing, those two."

"The Tweedles are dead."

"Yes, we know. You killed them. You never did the sorts of things they did. That's why we want to help you."

What the insect leader said is true. Alice used to be so nice, that she wouldn't even hurt an insect. She always tried to consider how it would feel if she were an insect. But now she's thinking, why was she such a goody two-shoes? After all, they're just insects, and besides, if they had the chance they would surely roll her up too—the only reason they don't is because they're too tiny to do it. In any case, these insects remember the old, sweet innocent and naive Alice, and as soon as her heart recovers from its black edges, she's sure she'll return to being that.

She says to the insect leader, "How will you help me?"

"We can transfer to you temporary roly-polying abilities, so that whenever you enter the gravedigger's tunnels you can curl up and become a roly-poly, a human-sized one. And you can become a person when it's time to exit. That way you can roll about and accomplish your mission."

Puzzled, she admits, "I don't have a mission. I'm just escaping the cards."

"Ah, we think you do have a mission, you just don't know it. In any case, we ask that you lie on your back—make sure not to crush us, so we can transfer our roly, roly-poly energy to you."

"Sure," she says, fumbling in the dark to lie down, careful not to crush any of her new insect assistants. "If I may ask, do you live down here, or were you waiting here, or what?"

"The Cheshire Cat alerted us, so we came as soon as we could. Are you ready?"

"Yes, what do I do?"

"Just lie still so we can crawl on you."

"Okay. I hope this works. It will be a relief to get out of this darkness."

"Darkness!" the insect in her ear proclaims. "Yes, me and my roly-poly minions are like an army of Darkness! And Vengeance!"

She feels hundreds of little insect legs crawling over her body, it makes her want to squirm, to rise up and shake them off, but she manages to lie with only the slightest of trembling.

She can feel them all over her body now, writhing, but can't see them. Her breathing becomes shallow. She dares not speak.

The insect's voice becomes shrill as he shouts, "An army of Vengeance! A mighty Roly-Poly Army of Destruction! Rolling like boulders to crush our enemies under ball. For Balls of Doom, we are!"

Alice almost giggles despite the panic. This situation is ludicrous.

But it only temporarily takes her mind off the gross sensations of creepy insects crawling over her, and she quickly returns to being terrified.

He shouts, "Transfer the roly-polyness!" And at that command she feels hundreds of pinpricks bloom against her skin. They don't so much as hurt as—well—

It feels like the pins and needle sensation when a body part falls asleep, just before it really starts hurting.

She doesn't know if they are sticking her with their claws or biting her or something else...

Despite those unpleasant possibilities, she remains still. She is no longer shivering, but only because she realizes that, just like a body part being on pins and needles, her body is numbed and slow to move.

Perhaps these stupid insects have poisoned me! The tricky little things. I should squish them all. But no, I must trust them. I have no other choice.

The insect leader says, "Now we have a vengeance poem, that doesn't apply to you, but to all the other hateful, non-goody-two-shoed creatures in Wonderland. It goes like this..."

Now in unison, the chorus of insects begin to chant this poem:

~*Roly-Poly Vengeance*~

Oh yes, you loved to flick us,

To laugh at our distress!

But your grins shall soon turn rictus,

And your flicks turn powerless!

No more, your flicking teasing,

No more, your hateful joy.

To crush you will be pleasing.

Your pain shall be our toy!

Our roly-poly vengeance,

Shall crush you under balls.

You flicked away your last chance,

And soon, your kingdom falls!

A roly-poly avalanche,

Is rolling now your way.

So give it up, you have no chance.

This is the final day!

A roly-poly rockslide,

Oh, hear its mighty boom!

You cannot run, you can't hide,

From roly-poly doom!

The insect leader says, "From now on, whenever you enter the gravedigger's tunnels, you'll be able to scrunch up like a ball and roll, as an honorary roly-poly. And you'll be able to apply sharp twists so you can curve and spin as you travel, just like any other roly-poly. And now, we send you on your journey. Tallyho!" He hops out of her ear.

Chapter 33 Knight Knight

I'm a roly-poly,

Rolling who knows where?

I hope to fix the things I broke,

And show them all I care.

I did such wretched things then,

But when I did, tweren't me.

That was the heartless version.

And when I'm done, they'll see.

A itty bitty roly,

Curled up so tight in fright.

I hope they will not hurt me,

Or flick me out of sight!

Alice is amazed that she's rolling through the tunnel, scrunched up in a tight ball, all by merely wishing it. She feels like a cue ball. She is able to curve as she rolls and she is somehow able to sense what's around her. There are several side passages and she has no idea where she's going, but after a few minutes she senses a hole coming up ahead in the top of the tunnel. An opening!

She causes herself to stop rolling by issuing a sharp jerk that causes a backspin. This causes her to spin backward as she continues sliding forward, until she comes to a complete stop directly below the opening.

She uncurls, so that she is once again an ordinary little girl, not globular at all, but instead higher than she is wide.

She stands and peers around at what's outside.

She sees a helmetless knight with a big mustache in armor that's all black except for yellowish brass arms. Behind him is a mechanical horse made of what looks like brass—it has what looks to be a huge windup key sticking out the side. The knight's kneeling in a dirt field with his elbow on his knee and his fist beneath his chin. In front of him is another helmetless knight in steel armor in a sitting position with a lance stuck in his chest—his head is slumped and he's not moving. Another lance is lying on the ground a short distance away.

Alice gasps. The black-armored knight turns his head and smiles at her. "Queen Alice? Please, don't be shy." He beckons. He gestures at a hole in the ground a few feet from the body. "You may help me bury the body, if I may be so bold as to inquire that of a queen." He stands and bows.

Alice is hesitant, but the Knight called her Queen, which Alice is quite unused to, but which she quite likes the idea of.

Also, she's curious as to what went on here. And things of a curious nature have always tickled her fancy.

So Alice hoists herself up out of the groundhog hole as the Knight approaches clankily. He falls down as he does, so she has to help him up. "Greetings," he says. "I am the Black Knight, formerly the Light Knight." He stands in front of her now and he bows.

Alice would normally curtsy at this point, but she doesn't think queens do that, so instead she smiles, gives the twisty hand-in-the-air royal wave. "Um, We are pleased to meet ye, knight. Um, should I knight you now? I'm afraid I haven't a sword."

"Oh, no Your Highness. Queens only do that once. I've already been knighted. Besides, I haven't a sword on me, and his wouldn't work on my armor, anyway."

"Oh, yes, well. Is he dead?"

The Knight looks to the body. "Why I daresay he is! They call him the Good Knight, if you ever heard of him. I smote him, in a joust! He needs to be buried. But I don't want to risk getting stuck to him. Do you think you could drag him to that grave over there that the Groundhog was so kind to dig?"

She crinkles her hand into a fist, presses it to her side. "Me? Why I'm just a little girl! Why can't you? Is it because you're so clumsy?"

He harrumphs and stiffens up in his outrage. "I'll have you know that I am not so clumsy. I merely fall because I want to. And as to why I can't move him, I said already. I don't want to stick to him."

Alice looks down at the dead knight. He is grasping a black-metaled sword in one hand and a black-metaled axe in the other. She finds the black metal strange, but one thing the dead knight did not appear to be was sticky. "Stick to him, why?"

"Why, because of my armor of course. It is my own invention. I have so very many inventions. I'm quite cunning you see." He begins walking toward the metal horse.

Alice follows, asking, "What does your suit do? I mean to say, what is the nature of its invention. I mean to say—"

But the Knight is rummaging in one of the horse's saddlebags.

"Hello milady," the horse says. "Are you my new owner?"

Alice says, "It's a pleasure to meet you. Don't you have an owner?"

The Knight says, "Oh, pay him no mind. He's not the brightest machine. Why, I have one of my splendid inventions somewhere in this bag. I invent weaponry, you see. Clever ways of killing one's enemies. I'm much cleverer than this Tinkerer everyone is talking about. Aha! Here it is!" He pulls out a cup, which has been sealed with waxed paper.

He holds the cup out to her. "Do you know what's inside here?"

"No. Of course not. Why would I?"

"Quite. Well, inside here are powerful weapons of my own invention. A bunch of ice cubes which I have super-heated to such a high temperature, that if one were to put them in a drink, like, say, lemonade... Do you like lemonade?"

Alice nods. "The pink kind."

"Okay, if one were to put these super-heated ice cubes in pink lemonade, they would make the lemonade so extremely hot, that drinking it would so severely scald the drinker's throat that they would die. All one would have to do is slip the super-hot cubes amongst the regular kind. Brilliant!"

Alice frowns. "But isn't that a bit of an unchivalrous method?"

"My dear, all's fair in love and war, haven't you heard? In any case, I present to you, my own glorious invention, the super-heated ice cubes!"

He pulls the waxed paper away. Alice peers in. Inside the cup is a clear liquid.

The Knight frowns. "Well, the ice cubes melted when I super-heated them. I'm still working out the kinks. But they are still remarkably clever. My own invention!"

Alice licks her parched lips. "So these ice cubes were made of water before you super-heated them?"

"Yes, frozen using the latest technology of refrigeration. What else would they be made of?"

"I mean, pure, ordinary water?"

"Yes, it's the super-heating that makes them deadly. Otherwise they'd just be ordinary ice cubes. Why?"

"When did you heat them?"

"Just yesterday. Why?"

"It's just that I'm so thirsty." She takes the cup and lifts it to her mouth, and drinks all of the water. "Oh, thank you. I was so thirsty. I hope I wasn't rude to drink your super-heated ice cubes, but I am a Queen after all. By the way, why did you change into a black knight?"

The Knight is staring at her with a stricken expression, his fluffy mustache worbling as if he is about to start sniffling. He snaps out of it, mutters, "My new suit's made of magnets, but, if you don't like the ice cubes, I have another invention. Weaponized glasses. Oh, where did I put them?" He goes to a saddlebag. "Ah, this bag I think." He rummages through, pulls out a pair of sunglasses, and shows them to her. The glasses have sharp metal spikes pointing out from the middle of the inside of each lens. The Knight explains, "Now these lenses you would give to your enemy and get him...or her to put them on. Note these spikes I have affixed to the inside. When your opponent fully puts them on, firmly, the spikes are long enough to pierce through both eyes and then into the brain, killing him, or her instantly!"

Alice says, "But why would someone put on glasses when you can clearly see the spikes, and why press the glasses all the way on, no less! Wouldn't the first sensation of pain make them stop?"

The Knight looks at her with a puzzled expression. "Well, I haven't worked that part out yet. Perhaps clever trickery of some sort would be in order. Why don't you try the glasses on and tell me what it's like?"

"I will not!"

The Knight mutters to himself. "Confound it. It would have made it so much easier."

"What's that?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

"If you want to test the glasses, you should do so yourself. You're the inventor after all. Go on then."

"Fine, then." He begins to raise the glasses to his head, but stops. "Ah, you almost got me. But I have another fine invention that I'm sure you've noticed. This mechanical windup horse made of brass so no magnets will stick to it."

"Magnets don't stick to brass?"

"They sure don't. You see, I wind him up using this key. He has gears inside that make him trot forward when I pull this lever." He pulls it. The horse begins trotting in a jerky, mechanical motion.

The Knight runs after it, but falls down in the process. He calls out for the horse to stop, but it keeps going. He returns to Alice with a bothered expression.

"Is it coming back?" Alice asks.

He sniffs. "I expect that it very well might. It is designed to follow its owner, lest it gets lost, you see. Much better than a real horse that way. Not like his, which ran away after our battle."

Alice smirks. "Yes, much better. Any more inventions?"

"Well, all my gear was on the horse, but I do have one more I can show you. My best one yet. But what do you think of my inventions so far?" He's looking at her with a needy sort of expression.

"I think they're wretched and awful. I think you're not an inventor at all. More like a bungler." She crosses her arms.

Indignantly, "What? Why I'm the greatest inventor in all of Wonderland! Greater even than that silly Tinkerer everyone's so smitten with." He's attained an offended demeanor.

Malice feels instant remorse. Where had this mean streak of hers come from? She'd never used to have a mean bone in her body. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. But who's the Tinkerer you're referring to?"

He waves his hand dismissively. "Oh, only somebody Queen Malice brought through the Looking Glass to make inventions."

"What kind of inventions?"

"Oh, I don't know. They can't be as good as mine. Why, it was because of my inventions that I won the duel."

"Is the Tinkerer a man or woman?"

"A human lady. But I grow weary already of talking about her. We must talk of my inventions."

"How did Malice bring her through?"

"Look, I don't know anything at all about her. And she probably doesn't want to know about me. Can't stand the competition. She must be really jealous of me and my inventions." He looks down at his chest, obviously trying to signal to Alice.

To be polite, she says, "Magnets."

"Yes, one of my greatest inventions. A suit of armor made of magnets!" He bows as if hearing applause.

"I can't say I quite understand. For one thing, the arms of your suit are made of brass, I notice—"

He sniffs. "So they won't stick to my chest."

"And for another, I'm quite sure that magnets attract metal."

"Quite so."

"So wouldn't having magnet armor make it more likely for you to be hit by metal weapons?"

"Well, yes, that's not the point."

"Please explain."

"Very well. You see, I convinced the Good Knight to use the weapons I provided him in our duel." He points to the axe and sword still grasped tightly in the dead man's hands. "Those are made of magnets too. Of course I didn't inform him of that."

Alice struggles to understand.

The Knight thus begins to explain. "Have you ever played with magnets, my dear?"

"Well, I have had little opportunity, but I did a few times a long time ago."

"Well, have you ever observed how, if you take two magnets, you can stick them together, but, if you turn one magnet around and try to stick them together, they repel each other?"

"Why, yes! So I have! Are you saying...?"

"Yes, I have made it so that my magnet armor repels his magnet weapons, and the tip of his lance. I convinced him to use a lance I provided him with, the tip of which has a magnet. When we rode toward each other, his lance veered away, leaving me untouched while my own lance stuck him a solid blow to the chest. And you know why?"

"Because you had put a magnet on the tip?"

"Yes, so my lance was drawn to his metal armor! See how clever I am! Much more so than the Tinkerer, I'm sure." He begins walking toward the body.

"But isn't that cheating? You had to lie to him."

"Eh? Yes, but t'was his fault for believing." He kneels next to the body, and takes the black axe and sword into his own hands.

"What are you doing?"

The Knight rises suddenly and twirls, glares at her. "Did you know there is a bounty on your life? Five tarts if I bring you to Queen Malice alive, ten tarts, if dead."

"So you intend to kill me?"

"Yes, just like I did the Good Knight, well, not just like him. I won't snap your neck."

"I thought you ran him through with your unfairly advantaged lance."

"Yes, and that knocked him off the horse, but he still came after me. Of course his weapons kept getting repelled by my armor."

"Of course," Alice agrees. Tentatively, she looks behind her.

"Wouldn't try running. I have very good aim with an axe. So back to my story. Where was I?"

"You'd just knocked your enemy off the horse by cheating and he was trying to hit you."

"Ah yes, well as clever as I am, I saw my opportunity. I ran toward him, with my arms held out, like an invitation for him to strike. Well he tried to hit me, and both his weapons were repulsed, his arms went wide, leaving his head wide open, so I reached up like this," he raises his arms, "and I snapped his neck." He makes a motion with his hands, indicating neck snapping and makes a cracking noise with his mouth, but since he is still holding the weapons, his reenactment is quite inaccurate.

So Alice offers, "Like this?" She makes a twisting motion with her hands and is surprised by how quick and forceful it is. She realizes that it felt just like when she had applied spin to herself in the groundhog tunnel! Why, the twisting motion is just like the jolt applied to make backspin! And now I have this newfound ability! She shouts, "Oh!"

And the Knight notices too. "I say little girl, where did you learn to move so fast?"

"Um, from playing billiards."

He looks at her quizzically.

Alice says, "Look, why don't you just look the other way, and let me go back into my hole. I'm a queen after all, and when this is all over, I'll be sure to reward you in a royal fashion."

He shakes his head. "You're a queen, but you're nothing like Queen Malice. Why, she is a queen I can follow. She's harsh and strong, and cruel. Not like you. Why you're just a little angel, aren't you? So pure and good and...weak. You'll go nowhere as a queen, I tell you. So I might as well kill you for the reward. Besides which, do you know why the Good Knight and I were fighting?"

"No," she whimpers.

"He made fun of my inventions." He scowls.

Alice swallows hard. Her mind races. She recalls learning in her studies about the principle of "fight or flight". She realizes she has to make that decision now, because there is no way she'll talk her way out of this.

If she runs, he could throw his weapons at her. She knows he's clumsy, but oddly, she knows from past experience that he's a highly skilled warrior. The other choice is "fight" and a dark place inside her emerges, because she doesn't want to simply run away, like a little girl.

I want to make him pay.

She says, "Wait, before you kill me. I have something I can give you." She rummages through the contents of her dress pocket, pulls out the scissors.

He laughs. "Are you gonna attack me with those? Your hands are shaking. Looks more like you're about to run away! Didn't anyone ever tell you not to run with scissors?" He chuckles.

Alice feels a malevolent darkness come over her. She notes that he's holding his weapons wide due to the magnetic repulsion. She narrows her eyes and shakes her head. The voice she uses sounds almost like a different person as she says, "Oh, no. I plan to run without scissors."

"Huh?" the Knight says as she throws the scissors at him, aiming at his chest. She recalls the numerous times she has been mocked by the creatures of Wonderland saying she "throws like a girl", and she does. The scissors soar toward a few inches above the Knight's left shoulder.

Alice immediately starts running toward the Knight. The scissors curve in the air, pulled by magnetic force and clank into the shoulder area of the Knight's armor and stick there. The Knight turns his head and looks down at them, letting down his guard—his weapons are held arms length from his body, because of the magnetic repulsion, making it easier for her to do this. While he's distracted she runs and hops—by the time he sees her, it's too late—Alice has wrapped her legs around his stomach, holding on to him for dear life—she's screaming at the top of her lungs. The Knight shouts in alarm, his eyes wide—he twists, trying to shake her off, and Alice is almost flung loose as she struggles to hold onto his shoulders. The Knight stumbles, still clumsy, almost falling but not quite. He stops spinning. He tries to strike her hard with his axe and sword, trying with all his might but the magnets bounce the weapons away—but he still manages to hit her—she feels slashes through her dress and sharp pains in her skin.

He's trying to kill me! I can't allow him the time to figure out that he should drop his weapons if he wants to hit me.

She scurries up higher on his body, meets his eyes and smiles angelically.

The Knight's face is contorted in a grimace as he still struggles to stab her. She feels another slash on her back and flinches from it, but keeps staring in his eyes, still smiling. Sweetly, she asks, "Like this?"

"What?" he says.

She reaches up, grabs his head and twists hard and fast, snapping his neck with such force that his head turns all the way backwards.

The body goes limp, Alice hops off. The body crashes in what would normally be called face-first fashion into the ground, but as the body lies there chest-first, the puzzled face of the Knight stares with open unblinking eyes at an area slightly below his chin on his back.

Alice looks down at him, now she begins giggling in an insane manner over what she's done. I killed a knight! Me, a little girl!

She shouts at him, "Stupid idiot! That's what you get! Give me my scissors back!"

She kneels and tries to pull them away, struggles, but can't get them loose. But then she tries using the same twisting motion she used to snap his neck and is delighted to see them fling free. And now she nearly stumbles from a sharp pain in her chest, and again there's that cold sensation, slightly stronger now. I mustn't overexert myself like this! Why do these things keep happening?!

She begins to sob. She stands up and looks at his face, feeling the sudden pity and rage filling her. She shouts, "Why did you do that? You made me kill you! I had no choice. Why did you do that?!" Then, though she knows it sounds ridiculous, she shouts, "Why wouldn't you love me? Why won't anyone love me?" With the tears streaming down her face, she bends and kisses his forehead tenderly.

"Goodnight, dear knight. I'm sorry I made fun of your inventions. I wish I could bring you back and mend your neck even though you really did kind of deserve to have your neck twisted."

And she can't bear to stay here another moment. She picks up the scissors, then runs to the groundhog hole and lowers herself in. She takes one last look at him. For just an instant she imagines he moves slightly, as if she could wish him back to life, as if he could survive having his head snapped all the way backwards, but no, and filled with remorse, she prepares to leave. Puzzled, she shifts her eyes to the distance, as the brass horse turns around and starts trotting toward her. But she can't wait around for it. She ducks all the way into the hole.

Chapter 34 Humpty Dumpty

Alice rolls to the next opening in the tunnel, after which she uncurls herself, pops her head out of the groundhog hole and peers about, squinting from the light.

About ten feet away, she sees Humpty Dumpty sitting in a baby chair that's too big for him. It's one of those chairs on wheels with a table in front. Humpty is in the seat suspended a couple of inches above the top of his narrow, low wall. He used to sit on top of that wall, but now it's like he's hovering over it.

Humpty looks like an egg with a face that's cracked all over, with bits missing here and there, and seems badly lopsided.

He is scowling and sighs pitifully as Alice watches him.

Alice looks around more. She sees a shallow grave dug about ten feet away on her left.

Why is Humpty still alive? Did someone put him together again?

Now he's reciting one of his poems, slightly different this time~

I'm Humpty Dumpty here above my wall.

I'm Humpty Dumpty and I cannot fall!

Though I wish that I could, because then I would jump,

Because, I admit, that my life's hit a slump.

He rolls his eyes in a bit of a swoon, and this is when his eyes meet with Alice's, and grow wide with fright. It would be funny if the situation weren't so dire—and Alice stifles a titter.

Alice wants to yell out, "Why are you alive?" but before she has a chance, Humpty shouts, "Queen Malice? Please don't hurt me any more! Just end my life now!"

Alice briefly considers pretending to be Malice. But no, I can't lie, everybody knows that. Although, I wonder now what used to be so hard about it. I feel I could lie easily if I tried. She shouts, "No, it's Alice."

"Alice? Oh, I'm so relieved. Well come out, come out my sweet girl, from out that hole!"

"Okay." Warily, she hoists herself up, prepared to hop back in the case of any trouble. She looks up, feels awkward. "Hello Humpty. You're alive...again?" She peers closer at what's holding him. He seems to be hoisted in an elastic baby seat designed to let the baby's feet touch the floor in order to roll around, but it's of little use for Humpty, because now with a shock she realizes that Humpty is missing his arms and legs. Also the chair's much too big—it would fit the baby of a giant, maybe.

He grins at her in a way that creeps her out, looking quite unhinged, says, "Yes, my darling girl. I'm alive again. And you're back, to rescue me. They told me you got your heart back?"

"Oh yes." She points at her chest. "It's right here, thumping away."

"It hasn't turned black has it?"

"Oh, no. Well, it's just a little black around the edges, but I'm sure it will heal up soon, just fine."

"Oh dear." Worry comes across his face and he is lost in thought for a few moments. But now he puts on that creepy smile again. It's painful to watch. "I'm sure it's not grown too black. Not like the Tweedles. Those two, well you know how they turned out. Blackhearted people are wrecks of emotion—jealousy and revenge and sorrow. I don't know which are worse, the blackhearted or the heartless."

She swallows. "What's the difference?"

"The difference?! Those with blackened hearts are driven by their sorrow and loneliness. The merely heartless are different—yes, they may torture and maim and kill, but in the end they are empty, with no soul. But the blackhearted—well, they feel such pain that they want to give pain to others, they truly revel in torture, in revenge. And another thing is that the heartless, well, they can't cry, but the blackhearted will cry tears of bitterness and rage and revenge."

"How can tears be of revenge?"

"Oh, believe me, they can be. Perhaps you will see."

Alice swallows hard. "Yes, well that sounds awful. But it has nothing to do with me. Why, my heart is only a little black at the moment. I'm sure it'll go right back to the same as before...right?" She looks at him with her eyes as big as she can make them, pleading.

"Oh, yes, yes, my dear Alice, I'm quite sure of it. I didn't mean to imply you were one of them. In fact, I'm sure you're not. And I'm sure—I hope that you can help me."

"Help how?"

He fixes her with a stare, apparently to show how serious he is. "I want you to provide me a mercy killing, to end my torture."

Alice is appalled and speechless, though a part inside her chuckles silently, and thinks, But didn't I already kill you a couple times? How funny it is that you didn't stay dead and now your asking me to kill you.

She shakes her head violently to clear the thought.

No, I mustn't think like that.

"Alice," says Humpty, "Are you okay? I know it's a bit much to ask, but I'm quite serious."

"No, no," she says, feeling ill, reaching out her hand. "Let's go through this, step by step. How did you get..." She wants to say "resurrected" but changes her mind. "Put back together again?"

"Malice. She ordered that all the King's horses and all the King's men put me back together again. But she ordered them to leave off my arms and legs, just to mock me. She told them to do a sloppy job too, which is why I look so warped. And now I can hardly move. Just wobble. I've looked as much as I can, but can't see my arms or legs. Do you see them anywhere?"

She looks around. "No, sorry."

He sighs and frowns, contemplating his woeful state.

Alice frowns and feels such pity for him that her eyes begin to grow moist and she must will herself to keep from crying. "But how did you get in that chair?"

"The Tinkerer. She used some enlarging potion on one of the Duchess's baby's chairs. The Tinkerer is really quite clever—a bit obsessive though. She's been working all night tinkering with things. When I saw her she hadn't slept at all yet."

"I've only heard a little about her. Who is she, exactly?"

"I'm not quite sure. She's a little girl. Some one Queen Malice brought from the outside world. As to why, I don't know. All I know is that she's clever—she made the chair grow just enough so I can't even properly sit upon my wall, just sit suspended here slightly above it."

"Why'd she do that?"

"Why, to mock me! Malice told her to. Malice herself wasn't here, but her guards said she'd come today or tomorrow to throw an egg-smashing party. They will tear down my wall and stone me to death with the pieces! I am to be killed! The Groundhog has even dug a grave for me." He shifts his eyes to indicate the grave.

"Oh dear. Why does she want you dead again?"

"Not just dead! Tortured to death in public! All because I stole her, I mean your heart."

Alice scowls. "Why she didn't even want it!"

"It matters not to her. She can abide stealing but not stealing from her."

"But you stole it from me."

He sighs. "I wish you could convince her of that."

"Well, I am on a mission to right what has gone wrong. I will see that Malice is punished."

"I hope you do. But first, please...put me out of my misery." And now he lets out a yowl of pain, and tears stream down his face.

"Oh, my! Are you okay?"

"Not at all, I am in such pain, from the incompetent manner they put me together. Please, finish me! I cannot abide being stoned to death!"

"Oh, don't say that. Perhaps you can convince her to let you go, and give you your arms and legs back. It's not hopeless."

He fixes her with a look. "Don't patronize me you dumb little..."

"The Knight called me an angel," she says in scolding tone.

"Angel. Yeah, that's what you are, an angel. I'm sorry, you're not dumb. I'm just in such pain, you see."

"Yes, you look dreadful!" She's pondering.

"So you'll help me? I can't live like this. Why imagine if you had no arms or legs!"

"Well, do you have any ideas where yours might be?"

"They told me they have hidden them away. Oh, woe, it is me! Please, I beg of you." And he favors her with such a pitiful expression, that she can't help but consider it.

Of course, in the past, she used to be so goody goody, that the very thought of killing him would have horrified her and she would have never been able to go through with it. But wouldn't it be more cruel to leave him here, without limbs, only to possibly be tortured to death?

Why, if I kill him, I will be showing him mercy. Besides, after all he's done to me in the past, he deserves to die, and a part of me would almost enjoy it.

"Very well, my poor, dear, Humpty Dumpty. I will try to end your life out of mercy. But it will not be a pleasure. I only do it because you ask me. I have a heart now, and I will be no cold-hearted killer. Why, I've already killed one today, and I don't want to make a habit of it. So how shall I kill you? Push you out of your seat?"

"Yes, I think that would do."

So Alice attempts to climb up the chair, so that she can push Humpty out of his seat to end his miserable existence. But the wheels keep rolling when she tries and she can't get a good grip.

For a moment her attempts are defeated and they take a few moments to think some more.

Humpty says, "You said you killed someone earlier today. Who did you kill?"

"The Knight."

"The one always inventing things?"

"Yes, but you see it was self defense. He—"

"I'm glad to hear it. He was an imbecile and bloodthirsty too. Always trying to kill people to prove what a great warrior he was."

"Yes, well, I had no choice. He came at me—"

"How'd you do it?"

"Hmmm?"

"Kill him..." His expression looks hopeful.

"Oh, I snapped his neck." She peers at Humpty's body—he looks like a large egg with a face on it, though he claims not to be an egg.

Humpty's expression collapses. "Oh, you couldn't do that to me, for I have no neck."

Alice nods sadly. "Yeah. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. No fault of yours."

Alice however, can't fight the urge to explain herself. "But the Knight, you see... Sorry to go back to it. He was going to kill me for a reward. I feel terrible about the whole incident of course."

"Well of course. You're not blackhearted. You're kind and merciful. I wonder...in your dress, do you have anything you might stab me with?"

"Hmm. I only have scissors. I don't think they'd do a good job."

"Oh bother! There has to be some way to end my life!"

Alice's expression brightens. "Ah! Tell me, are those strings holding your seat up elastic? I know some of those chairs are stretchy to let the baby bounce around for fun."

"I believe they are. Why?"

"I believe that's our solution! I will roll you away from that wall, then I shall go underneath you and pull you down, then if I release you, maybe you will fling up out of that seat and crash into the ground."

"Oh, you are an angel! I never knew you were so smart! Smarter than you look!"

Sudden bitterness comes over her. "Yes, as a matter of fact you always used to call me stupid, and a moron. But I just can't abide to see you suffer, so let's see if I can roll your chair over..."

"Let's!"

Alice nods. She pushes against one of the legs of the rolly chair and puts all her weight into it. She's able to move it. Soon, she has pushed the chair away from the wall.

"Wonderful!" Humpty exclaims.

Alice says, "Now, I will jump and grab a hold of your seat." After a couple of attempts, she catches hold, pulling Humpty down. "I have you!" She is dangling in the air—she can't hang like this forever. "Any last words?"

"Hmm. I shall have to think upon it."

"Bah. Did you ever even like me?"

"Sure. You were fun."

"Indeed." She tries to sway her body so that Humpty will be flung toward his grave. She has to time it just right. She swings her body, lets go at what she feels is the right moment, drops to the ground roughly onto her stomach. She looks up to see Humpty shooting up out of his seat, tumbling end over end while he shouts out, "Yeaaah!!!"

She watches as he lands perfectly into his grave, she hears the crackling thud as he slams into the ground, immediately shutting off his yelling.

She can't immediately get up—her breath has been knocked out of her. She feels as if there is a hand gripping her heart, and her stomach muscles are rippling from the pain of her rough landing. A strange cold sensation radiates through her chest.

She takes a few moments to recover.

Chapter 35 Grave Robbing

Oh, I'm dreading going over there to look. The last time I killed him, he ended up releasing my evil reflection Malice into Wonderland. I do hope there isn't another twin of me in that grave. Or something worse...

Unsteadily she stands, pats her dress. She winces from a pain in her left calf. She limps over to the grave, starts to peer over the edge with her hands balled into fists.

She looks real quick, then looks away. She saw the shattered egg shell remains of Humpty, but no yolk or egg, or any twins or creatures for that matter—it is as if he were empty.

Sadly, she peers down at her feet. She can't bring herself to look again.

He called me an angel, but I feel I betrayed him. Oh, no one should have to die that way, flung from a baby seat! He couldn't help the way he was. He was without a heart!

She knows she shouldn't really feel so sorry for him, because of how cruel he used to be, but, a life is a life.

And then the shudder rises up from her abdomen into her chest as she begins to sob. She can no longer hold back the tears. And she owes this to him—she must mourn him and she must gaze full on at his remains. Her tears drip from her face, into the dirt, some drip onto her shoes.

I will pay him his respects, say a few last words.

She moves a bit closer to the edge. She kneels, thinking of some appropriate words to say. She begins moving a little more forward, scared of what she will see.

She hears a male voice shouting on her left. "Nooooo!"

She lifts her head to look, sees the Cheshire Cat's floating head—he's grimacing so severely he almost looks like he's smiling, and his head is zipping through the air straight toward her face. His body materializes—Alice flinches but it's too late and the cat plows his belly into her face, knocking her head back. Her hat flings off.

She screams, lifts her hands and pries the cat off her face. Holding it now in her hands, she glares down at him. "What are you doing?"

The Cat looks up at her. "My apologies, My Queen, but I had to keep you from shedding any tears on Humpty's remains."

"Bah. What ever on earth for? Oh, I'm tired of holding you, you...creature!" In disgust she drops him, however, before he hits the ground he makes his body disappear, so that he is once again represented as a floating, grinning cat head.

He floats through the air to face her, looking truly sorry for his actions. "Your tears, I believe, would have revived Humpty, just like they did the Knight."

"Wait, what do you mean 'revived'?"

"I mean your tears brought the Knight back to life. I saw him just a few moments ago. Your tears are truly magical. And they were about to drop on Humpty. I'm sorry. I had no time to explain."

"You mean the Knight is okay? I'm so glad to hear it!" Quickly she picks her hat up and sets it back on her head.

"Well, he's alive, there's just the matter that he doesn't have his head on straight."

"Well, yes I know he can be a little addle-brained—"

"No, I mean his head isn't screwed on right. It's facing the wrong direction: backward."

She giggles. "Well, it serves the silly billy right! He tried to kill me! No, I mean, that's horrible! Oh, why did I think that?"

"I believe it is because your heart is partially blackened. That's why your tears didn't completely heal the Knight. The blackness in your heart caused him to be revived...but with a tinge of cruelty and irony. Black humour, in a sense."

"Oh dear. It is a little funny, isn't it?"

The Cat giggles and nods. "Everyone always said he didn't have his head on straight. You just made it literally true!"

She grins, but catches herself and forces herself to frown. "I don't want to have a black heart. I don't want to be amused by others' misery."

"You killed Humpty Dumpty."

She looks sheepish. "Yes, but I took no pleasure in it. I killed him as an act of kindness, of mercy."

"If I know anything about black hearts, each time more that you kill, the more black your heart will grow and the harder it will be for it to go back to red."

"Oh, dear. That will have been the last time then, I promise!"

He bows his floating head. "And I'm sure you want him to stay dead. Your tears would have revived him, and depending on just how black your heart has grown, it would have been a little or a lot ironic and hateful."

"Oh, dear! Then I am glad you stopped me. I shall make sure not to cry into his grave, but I wanted to say a few last words."

"As you wish, My Queen." He yawns. "I hope you don't mind, but I find funerals boring and I never did like the chap anyway. I found him pompous and bloated. Do you mind if I leave?"

"Very well," Alice says. "Quick question though," she asks as the outside of his head begins to disappear.

"Yes?"

"Why was there no one inside him this time?"

"Because you didn't kill him with malice. Remember the poem?" Only his floating grin remains in the air, now that disappears too.

Alice nods.

I must get on with my mission, but I shall say some final words.

She looks around. Looks up at the big rolling chair. She sighs. Still, she can't quite bring herself to peer into the grave.

She starts to speak some words in his honour. This time she manages not to cry, she only tears up. "We had our differences. You liked to torture me, and be cruel, but I knew you couldn't help it. And today at least, before you died, you were nice. You called me an angel, and you had—" A thought occurs to her and a little tickly feeling rises up in her—a little titter, she smiles wickedly. "Oh, to hell with it. You know, I am an angel." She raises her arms in the air. "Behold, for I am the Angel of Death!

"He was Humpty Dumpty, sitting in his baby chair.

He was Humpty Dumpty, who flung into the air!

He didn't wait to hatch, no, in order to grow wings.

And so he had a short flight, and learned the truth that stings.

"And the truth is: You can't fly moron!... Ohhh ho ho, but you know who can fly? Angels, that's right. And I am an angel...an angel of death! Oh wait, I already said that."

She feels a spasm in her heart, now a feeling as if an ice cold fist is pressing down firmly on it. She grips her chest.

And this is when she really starts to lose it, can feel the madness coming over her, with her not being able to do anything about it—a crazy giggling is rising up like a froth from her stomach into her chest.

And now she wants to see the carcass, wants to stare at it.

Let's take a look at the angel of death's handiwork!

So she peers over the edge while gathering saliva in her mouth, preparing to spit in the grave.

But she doesn't do it, because she's taken by surprise. Could it be? Eggshell pieces and bits of Humpty's face are scattered along the bottom of the shallow grave. But there are also four objects she didn't notice before. They look like branches—each is about the size of a child's arms.

Is there a tree around here?

She looks more closely and gasps out an "Oh!" as she realizes what the objects are—they're Humpty's arms and legs! She chuckles.

"Blimey! Those blooming idiots! All the king's horses and all the king's men, incompetently put Humpty together again! They put Humpty's arms inside his body!" She's laughing. "Or maybe they did it on purpose."

In a spurt of ecstatic exuberance, she lifts her arms up at her sides and starts spinning while shouting, "I'm the Angel of Death!" She stops. Presses a finger to her lips. Thinks. "Hmm. All I need is wings. Wings!"

She giggles some more as she lowers herself into the shallow grave. She picks up the two Humpty arms and tosses them out. She lifts herself back out of the grave, and picks up her two treasures—they are stiff and don't bend.

"Rigor mortis!" she exclaims. "Yes, they will make good stiff wings. Wings of rigor mortis for the Angel of Death!" More giggling.

She ruffles through her dress pocket, pulls out the roll of tape.

"Every time an egg dies, an angel gets its wings!"

She peels the tape, unleashing that familiar ripping sound.

Since no one is watching, she briefly removes her dress in order to tape the arms to the back. When she puts her dress back on, the two arms stick up behind her shoulders with curled crinkly hands on top.

She shouts, "The Angel of Death has wings, soaring in the shadows!" while holding her arms out and running around, pretending to soar.

She hears a voice that makes her stop whooshing. The voice says, "Do you mean it?"

Alice looks down to see her shadow.

Now for most people, this is a rather boring occurrence, but Alice recently got broken up with by her shadow.

Alice and her shadow shrug.

Alice says, "Mean what?"

"You called my name."

"I did? Well, okay. Have you decided to be my shadow again? It's just not proper for a girl not to have one."

Malice and her shadow cross their arms. The shadow says, "Well the truth is, I missed you a little."

"Oh, shadow! I missed you too! Won't you stay with me?"

"Well..." Alice and her shadow raise their hand to their chin, and look to the left and right over their shoulders, "not with these sorry excuses for wings. Why, it's quite obvious that they're arms—you can even see the fingers and everything. But if you gave me proper wings, I'd seriously think of staying."

Alice says, "Well, I know they're arms. I was just pretending."

"Well you should pretend better if you want me to stay."

"Well, yes, I don't know where I'd get real angel wings. And I don't think they'd really work, either."

"That's okay. Just so long as they look good."

"But where would I get angel wings?"

Alice and her shadow hold their tummy as they chuckle. The shadow says, "Silly, they don't have to be real wings. They just need the right shape."

"Really?"

"Yes, silly. I'm a shadow. Watch." Alice and her shadow lift a finger of each hand in the air and hold them behind their heads. "See, now I have devil horns!"

Alice laughs. "So you're saying I should be evil and kill an angel?"

"No, no. You don't get it? Watch." Alice and her shadow put their hands together and move their fingers to make a shadow puppet of a flapping bird on the ground.

Alice exclaims, "Oh, now I get it! You want Humpty to use his hands to make you shadow puppet wings?" She sticks her tongue out the side of her mouth playfully.

"Ha ha. Very funny."

"Yeah. Sorry, I'm so used to being in color and three-dimensional, I didn't think how it is for you. You just want something that will cast a good shadow of wings."

"That's right."

"So what if later I made some nice ones out of paper or cloth or something? Would you stay and be my shadow?"

"Maybe. If you were nice to me. I'd very much like having wings..."

"Okay, I'll make you some then. I've missed you so much!"

"Aww I missed you too!"

"But what about Malice?"

"What about her?" Alice and her shadow cross their arms, the Shadow says, "She was mean to me."

"Okay forget her then. From now on, it's just you and me."

"I'll be going now..."

"Wait. Won't you stay?"

"Not until you give me wings."

The shadow vanishes.

Alice sighs, and walks toward the groundhog hole.

Chapter 36 The Caterpillar

I'm a roly-poly,

Who rolls full of regret.

I had to kill with mercy.

My murders weren't done yet.

I did such wretched things before,

But this time wasn't one.

To let him live, would hurt him more,

I did it, not for fun.

I'm just a frightened insect,

Whose bad deeds now are past.

As murders go, I do suspect,

That this time was the last.

Alice backspins to a halt beneath another opening. This time when she pops up and peers around, she finds she's next to the little dead caterpillar with the tape still wrapped around his nose and mouth, his eyes wide open in terror. He's lying beside his hookah, close to the mushroom he used to always sit on. A short distance away is another grave that's smaller than the other ones but still quite too large for such a tiny insect.

I guess they haven't gotten around to burying the little guy. Lucky for me, I guess.

She lifts herself up out of the hole.

The Cat said that if I shed tears on someone, it will bring them back to life. Come on, Alice, let's give it a try. Can the Angel of Death also give the gift of life?

So she nibbles some of the mushroom to cause her to shrink, then stows the rest of the portion in her dress.

She kneels in front of the Caterpillar. She had murdered him, back when she'd been missing her heart. But the Caterpillar really had kind of deserved it. She feels anger surge as she stares at the corpse. But she shrugs it off and begins to peel the tape off his head.

After she's done, she stares at him, trying to muster up sympathy.

He was just an insect who didn't know any better. A caterpillar, which is literally a baby butterfly, so he was still immature, she tries to convince herself. And maybe he never really meant all that much harm—yes, he'd made her smoke some of his spices to test them before he smoked them, but he'd never wanted her to die or anything. And maybe, in his own weird way, that was his way of showing affection—by giving her joy in the only way he knew how, by sharing his spices with her. Yes, he has shared—they had shared—so much together, and she would miss their time together, and maybe he did love her, deep down inside, in his own way, and she had killed him! He was dead and he died in a way that no one should have to.

She feels the tears well up, roll down her face. She isn't sobbing, but at least she's got a good amount of liquid flowing. She just hopes she's made enough, because she doesn't know how much longer she can make herself feel sorry for that...that...insect who was so overwhelmed with his love for her, that he was mean to her to keep her at a distance so he wouldn't get hurt.

Oh brother, not even the old fully red-hearted goody two-shoed me would believe that.

Quickly, before her tears dry up, she leans and kisses the side of the Caterpillar's face in order to arouse more sympathy, and a few of her tears drop onto his face.

She sits up and watches expectantly.

I hope those were enough tears...

She watches.

She looks over at the hookah.

If he doesn't wake up, I could take his hookah, maybe—the spice might take away some of my misery. But no, the spice is bad. I should empty the spice left in the hookah for his own good. If he revives, he can start a brand new spice-free life.

She continues to watch the Caterpillar as she scoops the spice out and removes the little wooden box on the side that the Caterpillar kept his stash in. The Caterpillar still isn't moving, but he does seem to be glowing.

Even if he doesn't come back to life, no big loss. I've quite stopped feeling sorry for the lazy blowhard.

She tosses the box into the groundhog hole. She goes back to staring at the glowing Caterpillar with her chin resting on her fist.

She sighs.

Well this is getting boring. Maybe I should just go.

She nudges the body with her foot.

A few seconds of nothing noteworthy pass. But now, the corpse begins glowing more, with a white light. She watches in awe as the Caterpillar begins to breathe.

She says, "Caterpillar, are you alive?"

But he doesn't respond. He closes his eyes and keeps them closed, as if asleep.

She kicks him. "Wake up."

But he doesn't. Instead, he begins to transform. Into what, she doesn't know, but now after several seconds she sees he's growing a cocoon around himself. The cocoon forms rapidly.

She lifts her hand to her chin. "Hmmm. I hope he goes through this metamorphosis quickly, or I shall have to leave. I have other places to go, and misdeeds to make undone."

She stares at the cocoon hard, with furrowed brow, as if her thoughts alone can make him emerge, and who knows, perhaps they can, because the being that used to be the Caterpillar is fidgeting inside the cocoon now, causing little bulges to pop out then go back in on the cocoon surface.

Alice, in a giggly inspiration, raises forth her hands and proclaims, "Come! Come forth to me from betwixt the maw of death and let thee flutter, oh, revived lowly insect, transformed by mine own tears to glorious butterfly. Oh, rise and show thyself to me!"

On cue, two orange and black wings poke out of the cocoon and unfurl. The rest of the butterfly has some trouble getting out. "Please help," he says.

"Okay, hold on." Alice helps by grabbing parts of the cocoon and pulling. The cocoon makes all manner of cracking noises as it's pulled apart. It smells quite musty and dusty, Alice thinks. "Almost there."

At last, the Butterfly frees himself. "Ah, thank you so much! Wait, you? Didn't you kill me?"

"Yes, I'm sorry about that. But I felt such remorse, that I cried on you and my magic tears not only revived you, but transformed you into a butterfly! So, forgive me?"

The Butterfly scrutinizes her with the aid of his monocle. "Well, maybe I'll forgive you. But right now, I think we should celebrate my revivement with a nice partakement of my spice. Join me, won't you? Just like old times..."

Alice decides to lie. "Oh, I'm sorry, but the Queen of Hearts took your spice. Didn't think you would use it, seeing as how you were dead."

"What? No matter. I shall simply have to ask her to deliver me more spice. She is my supplier, you see."

Alice rolls her eyes. "Yes, I know." But a naughty notion takes hold of her—she decides to lie again. "But she liked your spice so much, that she decided to stop supplying it to anyone else. She intends, from now on, to keep all the spice to herself."

Now, this statement seems to make the Butterfly quite indignant—one is inclined to say that it "ruffles his feathers" but since his wings don't have feathers, let us instead say it ruffles his wings. "Well, I must have my spice, or I will feel quite unwell. I shall simply have to fly to the Garden of Live Flowers myself."

"Why there?"

"That's where the spice comes from. Each specific spice comes from the inside of a particular flower. I must go there at once! I feel much too sober. Oh, it is dreadful!" He ponders her a moment. "May I ask you a quick question?"

"Yes?"

"Why do you have arms sticking out of your back?"

"Oh, these. They're my wings. My angel wings, um, my pretend wings." She feels herself blushing.

"Little girl, those aren't wings. These are wings. And now that I have these I can easily fly to the Garden of Live Flowers and get all the spice I'll ever need. Now, if you'll excuse me," he begins walking toward his hookah, "I must be off to the garden." He picks up the hookah. "I bid you adieu."

Alice smiles at him, but she realizes her smile probably has a menacing appearance to it. The dark thoughts keep intruding~I wish those wings of yours wouldn't work, you jerk. Wouldn't that be ironic?

The Butterfly strains, but if he's trying to flap his wings, he's failed, since they don't move at all, and he doesn't even lift an inch. "What?"

Alice stifles a laugh.

The Butterfly begins hopping and running, but his wings don't flap, and his wings make him so top heavy that he falls down a few times. His face screws up and turns red. "Ack, now I'm too tired! I can't do it anymore!" He stops and stands with a sad expression.

Alice giggles, points to his wings. "They're very pretty you know."

"Oh, shut up, idiot. Poor me! My wings don't work. I can't flap them at all! How will I get to the garden? I'll have to walk, and if I do, having wings would be worse than not having them at all. Look how they unbalance me! I can't walk with these huge things wobbling me over all the time!" And as if to illustrate the point, he flops over.

Alice shakes her head and tssks. "Well that's certainly ironic. Wings are good for flying, but not good for walking, it seems."

Now he puts on a charming smile. "My girl! Could you take me to the garden? If you enlarge yourself you can easily walk there, then we can smoke the spice together!"

"Sorry. Can't." She sniffs.

"Why not?!"

"Have things to do. You're going to have to walk yourself." She peers at her nails.

"But I can't walk like this! My wings will make me fall over all the time!"

She squinches one eye at him. "I tell you what. I'll do you a favor before I go."

"Yes?"

She reaches into her dress and rummages through her dress pocket, pulls out the scissors.

The Butterfly says, "What?!"

"You said yourself that they're only getting in the way."

"Oh my. Perhaps you could go do your chores or whatnot, and come back and take me to the garden? I guarantee we'll have a jolly old time!"

She shakes her head. "Can't guarantee that. Not even sure if I want to or not. So maybe, maybe not."

"Oh, dear! What happened to that sweet little Alice?"

"Sorry, my heart's become partially black lately. But who knows, maybe it will go back to red? Then you can take advantage of me again like you used to."

"Oh, I do hope so! Oh, dear, I must have some spice. I'm already shaking from my lack of it. I can't wait around for you maybe to return. I must begin walking at once!" He takes a few steps before tipping over. He looks at her with a pitiful expression.

Alice opens and closes the scissors a few times with a crooked smile on her face.

He sighs. "Oh crikey. Let's just get on with it."

So Alice begins cutting off the Butterfly's wings with the scissors. Surprisingly, he says he feels no pain, or any sensation at all, and there is no blood.

Soon the wings are lying on the ground.

The Caterpillar says, "Thank you. Now I must be going. Please, if you get done with your tasks before I arrive, won't you please consider catching up with me and carrying me the rest of the way? We'll have fun together, I promise. But for now, goodbye, and I wish you the best on your trip."

"Bye bye."

He begins to walk away, awkwardly carrying his hookah, while Alice watches with a grin.

Alice feels the spasm in her chest. She presses her hand to her chest to feel the emanating cold sensation.

Alice ignores it and diverts her thoughts to her previous discussion with the shadow.

You wanted a proper pair of wings, eh?

She picks up the wings, goes to stand by the side of the mushroom where the Butterfly won't see her if he looks her way.

She takes her dress off and tapes the wings to Humpty's arms, puts her dress back on.

"Hey shadow...look what I've got for you..."

She realizes she's standing under the shade of the mushroom so she steps out into the open. "Shadow?"

Her shadow appears and squeals. "Oh, I adore them!"

"Thank you," says Alice. She and her shadow twist to show them off. The shadow truly looks like a fairy with wings. Alice on the other hand surely looks like she has butterfly wings taped to two arms coming out her back. It's a good thing she can't see herself.

"So," Alice says, "will you stay and be my shadow?"

"Yes, I will, so long as you're nice to me. Now I will go on being an ordinary, silent shadow just like the days of old."

"Why? I quite enjoy your company. Shadow?"

Alice waits, but her shadow doesn't respond.

So Alice and her shadow shrug then walk over to the groundhog hole. But before entering the hole, she decides to check up on Malice.

Chapter 37 Our Lady of Pain

Alice taps the top of her hat and her vision shifts. Once again, she's watching Malice from a vantage point slightly above and a short distance away.

Malice sits in the Queen of Heart's throne, in her throne room. Malice is holding one of the guard card spears in her hand. She's changed back into her black dress, but she still wears the mask. Alice wonders where the Queen of Hearts is right now.

Alice doesn't have a clear view of the entire room, but she can see a few guard cards standing about and she sees one of the pink flamingos standing in front of Malice. Alice views the flamingo from behind so she can't positively identify the bird, but the red velvet hat with the burgundy feather sticking out is a good tip off. It's probably Morley, a very pretentious flamingo poet. Alice had heard some of his poems before, but they used such strange, big words that she couldn't understand them, but she does think they tend to rhyme quite nicely.

Malice has an almost creepy malevolent grin on her face. Alice wonders if that's her natural expression or if she's putting on a show.

The flamingo seems to be standing in front of a podium. His body blocks much of what Alice sees on it, but she thinks she sees paper with typed words on it.

Malice says to the flamingo, "Time? Why more time? I've given you a whole hour to look through it. Now recite something."

The Flamingo says, "Your Highness, I only wish to please you. The Tinkerer's book is a book of poems by the English poet Algernon Swinburne."

"I know that!"

"Begging your royal pardon." He bows his long pink neck.

"So, this Swinburne isn't one of those dead old time poets is he?"

"No, he is modern. A Decadent, they call themselves."

"So is this guy any good? Apparently, our Tinkerer thinks so."

"Yes, he has a variable grasp of the nuances of poetical speech, though at times it is subpar, not quite at the level of my own of course, but he at times demonstrates a palatable perspicuity."

Malice actually snarls. "What did you just say?"

"Yes, I apologize, My Queen if I committed any malfeasance. I forget that others find the more refined use of language to be a perplexity. I shall attempt to pontificate more on your level."

Her eyes ping from side to side, and Alice realizes she is doing it too.

Malice says, "Are you calling me stupid?"

He bows again. "Oh no, My Queen. Your uncouthness is due merely to the lack of refinement of your undeveloped taste. I can help you. If you make me your royal poet of the court, I can elevate your tastes to acceptable levels. You may even surpass expectations..."

Malice scowls, thinks for a moment, smiles. "So you're saying my tastes are uncouth, but you can help me make them somewhat less so?"

"Yes, My Queen." His voice sounds delighted. "Why, my own poetry can elevate what strengths you may have. Unlike this, this Swinburne, this, scornful apostle of a crushing iron-shod despair."

"Ah, I see. Well I should very much like you to compose poetry about me. I want to hear just how well your poetry can glorify me. But for now, this is a test. You've had an hour to study. So recite to me something of Swinburne I'll like."

"Very well. If you insist. His writing is adequate, but does not quite rise to the lofty level of his ideas. He does try though. I did find one passage which reminds me of you, from his poem, Dolores. I have made a slightly different version, using your own name. I shall recite it to you now, if you please."

Malice nods. "Proceed."

The Flamingo recites with much pomp and circumstance, more like a peacock than a flamingo, the following verse:

Ah beautiful passionate body

That never has ached with a heart!

On thy mouth though the kisses are bloody,

Though they sting till it shudder and smart,

Less tricky than love's poisoned chalice,

They hurt not the heart or the brain,

O bitter and tender Queen Malice,

Our Lady of Pain.

Malice nods, touches fingertips to her lips. "Our Lady of Pain. Perhaps that's what I am. I've never had a heart. I like it."

"I knew you would. I believe I know your tastes better than you yourself. It is a skill I have."

Malice nods and nods and "Mmm hmm"s. She seems to consider him. "I like the bit about bloody kisses too." She peers at him uncomfortably for a moment. "My what lovely long necks you flamingos have. They must be able to hold a lot of kisses...and hickies! Is that what's meant by 'bloody kisses'?"

"My Queen, that is an inappropriate thing for a little girl to say."

She pouts. "Why, would you not welcome my kisses? My love bite?"

"It's not that. Of course I would. It's just. Bah, never mind. Have you considered my offer? I'm quite sure you'll see I'm right. Assuming you meet my demand, the only issue is when I should start."

Malice nods. "Yes, of course you are correct, as usual. Yes, I would like to appoint you as the court poet, to write poems about me, glorifying me." She giggles. "But I must first test you. I'm putting you on the spot, great poet. Compose four lines, now."

"Yes, My Queen, I would dutifully do so, and in verbiage that you can understand at your current level as well, but there is just the small matter of your submitting to my demand."

Malice arches a brow. "Which one?"

"Well, there is the reprehensible matter of us flamingos being used as mallets in games of croquet. The Queen of Hearts used to do that, but now that she is serendipitously out of the way, I should like the practice discontinued or at the least, as court poet, I should be exempt. It contemptibly hurts my head to be used as a mallet, you see."

Malice smiles. "Do not worry. If appointed as court poet, you shall never have to live through that again. Good?"

The flamingo nods.

"Now will you compose a poem for me?"

"I would be honored Your Highness. I shall work all day and deliver you such beautiful poetry when you wake in the morning."

Malice shakes her head with a pitying look. "Oh, no no no, little poet boy. Start now, give me four lines. I cannot wait another minute! And step out from behind that podium."

As he does so, he says, "But—But, Your Highness. Great poetry takes time. I must ruminate, and pontificate!"

"No! I demand you give me a poem, this instance, or I'll throw you in the dungeon with the Red Queen. Begin!"

"Well, what shall be the subject of the poem?"

She twerks her mouth to the side to think for a moment. "Write about my poisonous tears. And my viciousness and how I'm not some pure little girl. I'm vicious, and I like it, and everyone wants my kiss, because I'm a bad girl—poeticize about that."

Her tears are a beautiful poison.

Her pouts, they can lead to your death,

But we yearn to be one of her chosen,

And to feel on our necks her warm breath.

So sweet, her corrupted allure is.

Her heart, she does not even miss,

And of her, the only thing pure is,

Her poisonous kiss.

She squeals in delight, scrunches her shoulders and clappy clappy's in delight. "Excellent! Congrats, you're now the court poet. And as court poet you shall write poetry about me for as long as you live. Now do it again! Do it again! Talk about my bloody kisses and my pink lipstick and how I'm the Lady of Pain. And begin!"

The Flamingo is stammering. "But you're not wearing lipstick, and oh, if I compose poetry so fast, it may not be my best."

"Am I not wearing lipstick?" Malice licks her lips. "Why, so I'm not. I can't see my reflection in the mirror, you know, so it's hard to check. But here's the fix..."

After setting the spear down, she rummages in the pockets of her black dress. Malice's dress pockets are like Alice's—they can hold an awfully large amount without it showing on the outside. Malice pulls out two little tubes of lipstick.

The Flamingo audibly gasps. "Your Highness! You are much too young to wear makeup!"

Malice squints her eyes. "You have a lot of attitude for just the court poet. I suggest you keep such opinions to yourself."

"But I really must insist..."

"No! You are really annoying me now. But I'll let you choose. Black lipstick," She shifts forward one of the tubes. "Or pink?"...She gestures with the other.

"Neither. I much prefer red."

"That's not one of the choices."

The Flamingo, sounding stubborn, mutters, "I can't decide."

Malice mutters, "Indecisive too. Well, then I shall decide. Pink lipstick for your pink neck." She smears the pink lipstick on, now smacks her lips. "In fact, make that the subject of the next poem. Go."

"Go?"

"Yes! Are you a dolt? Are you a dodo or a flamingo? Talk about my bloody kisses, and how much like an angel I am, and how I'm the Lady of Pain. Begin my poem now, or you shall live to rue the day."

She sits glaring in the throne, with her pink lips, tapping her foot impatiently, and she looks quite menacing.

"Yes my Queen, um, just give me a short moment to think, um yes, here:

An angel's pure face she displayed us,

With a smile that could tear you apart,

But now that sweet smile she's forbade us,

For her lips are now pink like a tart!

Her kisses are slutty and pink now.

Her excess, she cannot restrain.

She wants to draw blood and red drink now,

Our Lady of Pain.

She smiles angelically at him. "Ah, message received. No more pink lipstick. I know you much prefer my lips be red." She wipes the lipstick away. "As you wish..."

"Ah, now you look like a proper young lady."

"Very good. The Queen shall bestow her kisses upon thee."

She walks up to him—as she does, she brings her hand to her mouth as she coughs nervously.

She kisses the side of his neck gently, then kisses again. She jerks her head to the side, as pulsing jolts of blood spray from the bird's neck, then it flails and sags, and the body topples over onto the ground.

She grins with bloody teeth and lips, she is holding something thin clenched between her teeth. She drops it into her hand. Now Alice realizes it's a razorblade.

Malice says, "What an annoying little bird! His poems were fun but not worth the aggravation. Well, Morley, my lips are now red, as you prefer. I do venture I shall have fun playing croquet with your dead body. Guards, organize a game!"

Alice's view of the scene cuts off.

Chapter 38 Meet The Queen

Alice enters the groundhog hole. She decides to leave the box of spice behind, because spice gives a false sense of happiness, and she wants to experience things as they are. This time as she rolls, she feels like she's lost her way. She's not used to traveling through underground tunnels, and she's pretty sure she took a wrong turn back there.

She spins to a halt under an opening and feels like she's been here before. Is this the hole by Humpty Dumpty? If so, she can maybe get her bearings straight again. She pops her head out.

She sees the Queen of Hearts and a guard card standing next to the rolling baby chair looking up at it. At least, Alice thinks that's the Queen of Hearts—she's wearing a veil, probably to hide her acid-burned face that Malice caused before overthrowing her. She notices that the Queen of Hearts is holding a hand mirror.

The Queen and card are a safe distance away—Alice knows she can duck back into the hole and not be followed, so on a whim, she shouts, "Hey! I think the chair's a bit big for you!"

They turn around. Alice royally waves from her hole—she feels like it'd be less silly to wave in a common person's fashion, but is she even allowed to do so, as a Queen?

The Queen of Heart's eyes linger on Alice's wings. She shouts, "Alice? We've been looking for you! We want to form an alliance. Us against Malice!"

Alice does her best to speak royally. "We doth approve of going against Malice. She is an utter rapscallion!"

"Yes, I am assembling an army of loyal subjects to oppose her forces. I want to coup d'etat her just like she coup d'etated me yesterday!"

"Sounds like a swimmingly good plan!"

"So will you join us in our battle for justice?" She and the card begin walking toward her.

Alice is ready to flee at any moment, but she holds her ground. "I don't know. I still have a few tasks to attend to. I'm not sure when I'll be free. When were you planning to attack?"

"Later today. Won't you please join us?"

"Sorry, I can't right now." Alice eyes her warily.

"Don't worry. We're on the same side now. Us against Malice. I understand if you must go about doing other things, but I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you. One that I would surely reward you for."

The Queen and guard card are standing at the edge of the hole looking down at her now—both seem to be trying hard not to stare at her wings. The Queen of Hearts says, "I've heard reports of your tears healing people. They say you're going around trying to fix those you killed..."

"That's right."

"Well, I was wondering... See, Malice burned my face rather badly. They tell me it will never heal and I'll be horribly scarred, but perhaps your tears might heal me. I know you're not the one who hurt me, but as long as you're going around performing good deeds, do you think you could possibly cry on me? I'd be so grateful. I'll reward you when I regain the throne. What would you like?"

Alice sighs. "Just promise that when my heart goes back to red, and I'm the goody two-shoed Alice again, that you will treat me fairly, and won't make me travel from character to character to get abused."

She nods. "Very well. It's a deal. Won't you come on out? It won't take long. Then you can go about your business."

Alice considers a bit, and says, "Okay." She lifts herself up out of the hole.

The Queen says, "Oh, I'm so glad." To the guard card she says, "Turn around. I don't want you seeing this."

The card complies.

"So," Alice says, "how shall we do this?"

"Perhaps if I kneel," the Queen suggests.

"Okay."

The Queen of Hearts kneels. Alice positions herself standing over her, so any tears she sheds will fall down on the Queen of Hearts.

Alice says, "So now, remove your veil so I can see and feel sorry for you. Then I'll cry, I'm sure."

But really, she isn't sure at all, because a part of her is thinking, I'm not sure I'll cry at all, because I think you deserved to have your face disfigured because of the way you treated me! I only regret that I didn't get to do it myself! And who wants to look at your acid-burned face? Not me.

The Queen of Hearts nods, and removes her veil, revealing her horrific face, the skin burned off to reveal bloody flesh, the wounds still fresh.

Alice finds it quite revolting and gross.

She doesn't feel pity and the tears do not come. Instead she feels anger and hurt, as she remembers how the Queen of Hearts used to treat her.

The Queen of Hearts asks, "Where are the tears?"

This feels quite awkward. "I'm sorry," Alice says. "Maybe if you did the usual thing to make me cry?" The "usual thing" refers to how, every few days, the Queen of Hearts used to have Alice visit her to do her makeup. The Queen of Heart's secret makeup ingredient used to be Alice's tears, which she would cause to spring from Alice's eyes by insulting and slapping her. The Queen of Hearts used to think the tears were magic and made her more beautiful.

The Queen of Hearts nods. "Okay, you're a worthless idiot."

Feelings of hatred begin to emerge inside Alice. I wish my tears turned to acid and melted your face, but that's already been done. Perhaps a more subtle approach would be in order. She says to the Queen, "More, give me more."

The Queen of Hearts says, "You're useless, worthless. Like a human emu. Pathetic. I hate you."

Oh, and I hate you! You wench! Wouldn't it be funny if my tears transformed your face into a laughingstock? What if my tears smeared your makeup and eyeliner and lipstick, how would you like that? It's not as bad as you actually deserve! Imagine being humiliated in your precious royal balls. "More," Alice says.

"Half-witted baboon marmoset arm-backed clod! Two-footed beet-eating possum fowl reject! You're not fit to lick my shoes!"

And Alice feels the tears well up in her eyes now. Tears of rage and sorrow. Why had the Queen of Hearts always been so mean? Was Alice really so unlovable? Would she always be alone? Oh, I'll make you pay for not loving me the way I deserve to be!

A few tears well up in her eyes and roll down her cheeks, plopping on the Queen's horribly mangled face. The Queen raises the mirror to her face, which begins to glow with a white light, then begins to heal right in front of her eyes.

The Queen of Hearts exclaims, "I can feel it tingling!"

They both watch the transformation. New skin patches sprout on parts of her face, and begin growing until they touch each other. Soon, the Queen's face is back to the way it was before. They watch in amazement as eyeliner appears as if it's being drawn under her eyes by invisible hands, red lipstick appears as if being smeared on, rouge appears as if brushed on her cheeks.

The Queen dutifully keeps her face still while squealing in delight.

A superb miraculous makeover is now displayed—the Queen looks beautiful and made up to attend a ballroom dance.

"Excellent," exclaims the Queen. "I'm even better than new!" She lowers the mirror and smiles at Alice. "See, you can accomplish things right sometimes!"

"Thank you," Alice mutters.

Alice's eyes go wide a little because the invisible makeup artist hasn't stopped working on the Queen of Heart's face. Her eyeliner is being drawn on thicker, the lipstick is extending to the skin outside her lips, the rouge on her cheeks widened and made redder, her nose begins to glow with a reddish light.

Uh oh, are we about to have a Pinnochio moment?

The Queen of Hearts says, "What is it?" She looks in the mirror again. "Still spectacular." She primps her hair. Her hair is changing too—it's starting to curl and is becoming a lighter color. The Queen doesn't seem to notice any of the changes though.

The Queen lowers the mirror again. "Card, you can turn back around again." She looks into Alice's eyes. "Thank you for making me fabulous again." A little red ball has appeared on the Queen's nose. Her eyeliner has grown to raccoon-like proportions, her hair is auburn, and her lipstick is clown-like.

Alice cackles inwardly. Oh, this shall be good...

The card gasps. "Your face! I mean, Your Highness, your face!"

She says, "Yes, marvelous aren't I?" Her face is whitening. She is looking more clown-like—the red ball on her nose is growing. She looks in the mirror and shoots a clown-lipped kiss at herself. "After the coup d'etat, I shall have to throw a party to celebrate and show off my makeover."

The makeup stops. The Queen is now in full clown makeup.

I wonder if that's permanent.

The Queen looks at Alice. "I do hope you'll attend my coup d'etat, but either way you're invited to the afterparty. Now I shall let you attend to your business. I really must be going as well."

"Just a quick question. When you looked in the mirror, you didn't notice anything, um, different about your hair and makeup did you?"

"Why what do you mean? It's splendid, if that's what you mean."

"It's not clown-like?"

"Why of course not child." She narrows her eyes. "Are you trying to insult me?"

"No, no. I think you'll make quite an impression when they see you."

The Queen gives her an appraising look. "Quite. You should watch your jealousy. Also you have arms and wings taped to your back. You look a little ridiculous. So shall we see you later?"

"Yes, Your Highness, We shall see you."

Alice bows, royal waves, and heads back to the groundhog hole, while her heart clenches and she feels that familiar cold sensation. Why? I didn't even kill anyone this time!

Chapter 39 The Tweedles

No more behind the eight ball,

So now it's time for roll call.

So who's head next shall roll?

I'll take no lip, none at all.

The first to slip shall first fall,

And mercy on their soul!

Alice again rolls through the tunnels. This time when she pops her head up, she finds herself at Tweedledum and Tweedledee's oak tree. The Tweedle twins are lying dead, just where she left them. She sees that two graves have been dug in the dirt clearing beneath the tree. Tweedledum is lying on his back with a toy rattle on his bloodied chest. Tweedledee is lying face down a short distance away. They'd both shot and killed each other during a duel.

One of the pistols is lying on the ground, but it's out of bullets since it's a single shot dueling pistol. That's why Alice had left it there the last time she'd been here.

Back when she'd tricked the twins into shooting each other, she'd been heartless, and she'd wanted them dead. But now that she's had time to think about it, maybe sometimes living is a worse punishment than death.

She'd seen what her tears had done to the Caterpillar and the Queen of Hearts and now, well...

Let's see what fun we can have.

She picks the rattle up and slips it in her pocket. She grabs Tweedledum and drags him toward his twin brother so they'll be close enough for her to cry on at the same time. She turns Tweedledee over and now they're lying side by side.

She'd found out before they died that they both had black hearts. Is that what had made them so cruel? She's worried they might attack her if she revives them, so she takes a moment to tape their hands behind their backs.

There, now to summon up some tears. I wonder what cruel irony my tears'll inflict on these two pieces of trash.

She scrunches her eyes, but no tears come. She feels she has done so much killing and cruel acts today, that she's becoming cold inside.

But at least I'm not heartless eh? Just a little blackhearted.

I must summon up some tears!

I have to make myself feel sorry for them.

She starts talking to herself. "Maybe they weren't such bad guys deep down inside. They loved each other, in their way. Despite all their bickering they still stayed together. So there was a part deep down inside capable of love—it was just their black hearts that corrupted them. Maybe they couldn't stop themselves no matter how hard they tried, because I realize now how the dark thoughts take over as your heart grows darker and darker—you almost can't control it. Maybe that's why they were so cruel, why they didn't show love to me. Why they couldn't care less for me! But ohhh, they sure focused on each other, always fighting but never separating, keeping each other company—loving each other in the only way their black hearts would allow."

She feels the jealousy surge up inside her, jealousy of their love for each other.

"But why wouldn't you love me? I did everything you wanted, I obeyed your every command. I let you hurt me. Shouldn't that have at least made you fond of me? But no, it never worked. You wouldn't ever love me. And I never showed you how much that hurt, never told you how wrong you treated me. But I did everything you wanted. Why wouldn't you love me? Why won't anyone love me?!"

She feels the tears of rage and loneliness well up.

"Well, you'll miss me when I'm gone. You love each other's company so much, you can have each other, because I won't be here for you to push around anymore. And I want you to come back to life so I can leave you, and show you...I don't need you, I don't need anybody! I hope you're happy sticking together and leaving me out!"

Some of her tears roll down her cheeks now. As she sobs, she tries to move her head so some of them drop onto both of the twins.

She wipes her face, stands as she looks down at them, ready for any sort of attack.

They begin to glow.

With her hands formed into fists, she yells down at them, "That's right, you jerks! Come back to life! Come back to life so you can see how you hurt me!"

The flesh of their bodies begin to shift. It appears as if they're melding together.

"That's right you big tough guys who abused an innocent little girl. It took two of you to do it? You're a couple of weaklings."

She watches as before her eyes, they are becoming Siamese twins, joined side by side through the chest and stomach. She wonders what organs they'll share.

"Ha!" she shouts. "You wanted to stick together so much, well look, now it's come true, all because of me! Alice, The little girl you abused!

"And though, no, my name isn't Malice,

My actions have grown more malicious.

As I've become a more blackhearted Alice,

Inflicting pain has grown delicious!"

The Siamese twins have stopped melding. They are now fused—it looks like they have three legs, because the two legs in the middle have combined. There are two heads with two necks, and a melded chest and torso.

The Siamese twins' eyes pop open.

Alice can't tell which is Tweedledee and which is Tweedledum. She knows that one was on the left and the other on the right, but she's quite forgotten, and now that they're mushed together, she can't tell them apart.

"What is going on here?" says one twin.

"Ditto," says the other.

From a safe distance, Alice says, "I've brought you back to life."

The Siamese twins sit up.

"What is going on?" one says.

They sit up, look down at their melded body, then turn their heads to look at each other.

"You!" they shout at each other. Their arms, which still seem bound behind their backs, struggle but don't break free.

"I'll pound you!" shouts a twin.

"Likewise!" shouts the other.

"Why can't I punch?" says a twin.

"Ditto," says the other.

Alice says, "You've just been brought from the dead to find you're now Siamese twins, and you want to punch each other?"

They nod in unison. Both say, "Quite."

Alice rolls her eyes. "Well, then it will be my pleasure to help you two up. You seem to have three legs between you. I do hope you can cooperate enough to stand?"

They nod at the same time, say, "So long as he does it right" while tilting their heads toward each other.

"Very well, then." As she walks toward their backs, she sees that their arms have transformed in a quite peculiar and disturbing way, causing her to gasp aloud. The arms have fused so that the twins' inner arms have formed a single, deformed arm-like limb sticking out their back—their outer arms are still intact, that is until the hand area. There, their hands have fused into a mass of flesh and tape. Here and there a finger or thumb is poking out from the lump. There is little hope of their arms being freed for punching now.

Alice gulps back the nausea as she helps lift the twins up.

They stand awkwardly, swaying somewhat.

Alice decides to break the news to them. She's facing them again. "I'm afraid your hands cannot be freed to punch each other. There is a matter of your hands having fused together. Terribly sorry."

"What?!" shouts one twin, while the other shouts, "Outrageous!"

They crane their necks but are unable to see their backside. They strain and pull their arms to no avail, while yelping in pain.

One of them glares at her. "Are you sure you haven't stolen them?" He motions at her wings.

"Stolen what?"

"Our arms! You've got two on your back." "Quite right!"

"Silly billy, do they look like yours? They're Humpty Dumpty's. And the wings are the Caterpillar's. He's a butterfly now."

"Oh, begging your pardon." "No, offense meant for what he said."

"Eh? You were the more offensive one!"

"Contrariwise."

They seem to struggle anew to punch each other.

Alice looks on, waiting for a moment to interject. Now she says, "I think it should be much harder to harm each other now..."

"Oh this is terrible!" one twin shouts.

"Ditto!" shouts the other.

As if scolding a child, she says, "You shall have to learn how to live together."

"Contrariwise, we can't live like this! Would rather die, we would." "Ditto!"

"Hmm!" Alice taps her chin, pretending. "What if..." She rummages through her dress, pulls out the scissors, opening and closing them. "I cut you two apart!" She smirks.

One twin narrows his eyes at her. "You're a mean little girl." "Ditto. Never did like you."

Alice explodes in rage. "That's putting it mildly! You treated me like dirt! Don't you know how much you hurt me? And now you're getting what you deserve. You will suffer for what you did to me!"

The twins look taken aback, turn their heads to look at each other, now burst into tears.

One twin says, "But we can't live like this! Put us out of our misery! Have mercy!"

She crosses her arms and scowls. "You never showed me any mercy."

"Why are you acting like this? You used to be so sweet." "Ditto."

She says, "My heart has been blackened and it becomes blacker with each cruel act that I do."

"Oh, once it gets too far it's hard to fight it. You can't. Just give in like we did." "Ditto."

Alice feels worry. "What happened to you two? How did you get your black hearts?"

They take turns speaking the following: "A girl. Broke both our hearts. The girl didn't tell either of us that she was also dating the other. And because we were hurt, we wanted to hurt others, and our hearts grew black."

"What happened to the girl?"

"She left Wonderland to become a wicked witch in another land." They look mournful. "Please, your heart's not completely black yet. Have mercy on us." They look utterly pitiful, what with their three legs and fused chests.

She briefly considers snapping their necks as an act of kindness, but before she can mention her newfound neck-snapping ability, one twin says, "I've an idea. Why not use that pistol there, to shoot us in the head? It shouldn't take more than one bullet, what with our heads so close together. I volunteer to be the one closest to the muzzle."

"Contrariwise! I shall be closest!"

Alice sees a smile appear in the air above the twins' heads, as the other shouts, "Nohow!"

The cat mouth says, "Did someone mention shooting heads? Can I watch?"

"Greetings Cat!" Alice says.

The rest of the Cat's head appears. "Greetings blackhearted Queen Alice."

"Don't call me that."

The floating cat head zooms down to hover in the air in a more convenient location for conversation. "I love to see brains spattered from gunshots. It's a thing of beauty."

Alice says, "But I was just about to tell these two that the gun is out of bullets."

The Cheshire Cat nods as the twins make sounds of disappointment. The Cat says, "However! I have recently procured a box of supplies that will allow you to reload the pistol. I shall provide instructions."

The twins are relieved at the news, Alice agrees, and the Cheshire Cat disappears briefly, now reappears with a small wooden box. As promised, it contains reloading supplies such as a round bullet, gunpowder container and a rod for poking things. The Cheshire Cat instructs Alice, and now the pistol gun is loaded once again. The Cheshire Cat excuses himself briefly to return the box from whence it came, and comes back.

"Ooh!" exclaims the Cat. "I do so look forward to watching!"

Alice cocks the the hammer of the flintlock pistol. "So you truly want me to kill you?"

"What you said." "I concur!"

She approaches them, points the gun at one of the twins' forehead. "Kneel," she shouts. Her hand trembles, but they obey and bend their legs to lower themselves—they are unable to actually kneel. She's never shot anyone point blank before: she's just a little girl. But a part of her revels in the dark thrill of holding the power over life and death.

The twin not in front of the gun says, "No fair. You must surely shoot us both at the same time. On the side of the head."

The other twin sighs and says, "I concur."

She lowers the gun. "Ah, so you agree on something. You must either live or die together. It wouldn't do for only one of you to die, now would it?"

They shake their heads.

She leans forward, invading his personal space. "Why, it would be quite cruel for me to do that. Don't you think? All for revenge?"

She hears the Cheshire Cat snicker beside her.

The twins' eyes go wide. "Yes quite cruel."

"Ditto," says the other. "You're not that blackhearted, surely."

Alice says, "Surely? I don't know. My heart seems to be getting blacker and blacker. But I have a few questions before I decide whether to shoot you."

"Yes?" they say.

"Are you sorry for the way you treated me?"

They turn to look at each other, then turn back to her, and one says, "Oh, yes, so sorry." "I'm sorrier."

"No, I am." "Contrariwise!"

Alice sighs. She feels tired of all the same behaviors, tired of the bad emotions they bring up. She interrupts, "During all the time you treated me so horribly, did you ever feel bad? Did you ever even like me? Did you—" She shakes her head. "Oh, never mind. It's silly to think you would love me. I was nothing to you. A plaything."

The twins stand in stunned silence for a few moments, now one says, "Of course we loved you. Just didn't show it." "Yes, ditto."

"Really?" She smiles, but now tears begin to well up in her eyes. She shakes her head with two sharp twists. "No. You're lying." She slips the pistol into her dress pocket. She digs through her pocket, pulls out the rattle and drops it on the ground.

She turns and begins walking toward the groundhog hole. "I've decided to let you live." She wipes her tears away.

"You can't!" shouts a twin. "Don't leave us like this!"

Alice keeps walking, not looking back.

She can hear the twins shuffling unsuccessfully toward her with their three legs. She doubts they can walk as fast as her. One shouts, "Please don't go!" "Ditto!" shouts the other.

"My Queen, I must protest!" says the Cat. "I find this quite unfair. I provided the bullet..."

She says, "Hush, Cat. We are Queen, and this is what We wish. I promised you nothing." She wipes her tears away. Almost at the groundhog hole.

The Twins shout, "Have mercy!" "You can't be this cruel."

She stands at the edge of the hole now, still not looking back. Her hands form fists at her side. She is no longer crying.

She says, "I want you to suffer, just like you made me suffer." She feels the sharp pain that makes her clutch her chest and bite her lip to keep from crying out—her fingers feel that cold sensation again. But she must continue.

She jumps into the hole while one twin shouts, "No!" while the other shouts, "Please!"

Chapter 40 A Sad Tea Party

Tweedledum and Tweedledee,

Both bickered so much that you'd hate them.

And the solution, you'd think, would be plain to see,

And that would be, separate them.

But I'm not you, and you're not me,

And when choosing between mercy or whether

To let them both share in their paired misery,

I said, "Hey you two, stick together!"

This time rolling through the tunnels, Alice is getting a better sense of direction. She wants to go to the Tea Party tree, not necessarily to fix things but out of curiousity, so she rolls toward that area and lo and behold comes to a stop beneath another opening, exactly where she expected it to be.

She uncurls, pops her head up and takes a peek. There is the overturned tea table beneath the shade of the oak tree. The Dormouse lies dead, face-down on the ground. She doesn't see the Mad Hatter's body. The March Hare's house is nearby, a house with chimneys shaped like ears and the roof thatched with fur.

Two graves have been dug about ten feet from the table, and there is the Mad Hatter's hatless decapitated head lying next to one of the graves!

Who decapitated him while she was gone?

She sees no one but the dead Dormouse and the Mad Hatter's head, which seems to be scowling. Alice tries to peer into the windows of the March Hare's house facing her, but they are curtained, so she can't see inside.

She peers at the Mad Hatter's head again. It seems to be moving.

The head is lying on what looks to be freshly dug dirt.

Did someone bury the Mad Hatter's body and set his head atop his grave? And if so, why? Is he a vampire or something? I must get to the bottom of this.

She lifts herself out of the hole, and on the spur of the moment, tumbles forward then rises to her feet while lifting her hand up, shouts at the Mad Hatter head, "Ta da!"

He turns to his left (he seems to have some difficulty doing so), proclaims, "Malice or Alice? With wings? And are those arms coming out your back?"

She hops forward dramatically. "It is I, Queen Alice! Ignore the arms. They merely hold up the wings!"

Woefully, the Mad Hatter says, "Are you a fairy or a demon?"

Alice walks toward him. "Neither. I'm an angel."

He says, "Quite. I always thought the same. So angelic, so beautiful to see such a pure girl in pain."

Alice stands looking down at him now. "I say, you're not decapitated at all."

Woefully he says, "Quite right. I'm buried up to my neck in my grave. T'was Malice who did it. Well, her guards, to be accurate. I say, Alice, might you lower yourself while speaking to me? I'm having a dastardly time straining my neck up to see you."

"Very well," Alice answers. She lowers herself to lie flat on her stomach to speak to the Hatter. "Better?"

He nods, or attempts to nod, but his chin is impeded by the dirt below. "Ack. I do hope you'll help me out of this predicament."

"Pray tell. What predicament is that?"

"Yes, it is that Queen Malice has buried me alive. She wishes to return later to play croquet using my head as a goal. I find the notion quite unacceptable."

Alice rests her chin in her hands and kicks her legs back and forth. "Buried you alive? But I thought you were dead?"

"Ah, yes, I construe your meaning. When you last saw me, you must have thought me dead, from the poisoning."

"Indeed, I did."

"I did not die though, I merely thought I did. I came to, a few hours later, with custard pie on my face."

"You don't say?"

But I was quite out of sorts. I couldn't even walk. I was delirious and confused. I must say, it wasn't one of my finer moments."

"Oh, I can imagine!"

"But then Queen Malice arrived. Her guards manhandled me, but still I struggled against them, even uncoordinated as I was. She devised the plan of partially burying me and using my head as a goal. So she used her scorpion on me."

"Scorpion?"

"Yes, she was carrying a scorpion, which she set on me. It stung me, and its venom immediately paralyzed me. She wanted to do that so they could bury me without resistance, but I experienced it all! I could see and feel everything, but I couldn't move at all! It was horrible!"

"Well you're moving now..."

"Yes, the March Hare. He tried some of the Dormouse's antidote on me. And it worked. Now I can move, but the crux of the matter is that my body is so firmly packed and buried that I can't rightly move. I admit that I'm trapped."

Alice says, "Quite a predicament."

"Indeed it is." He lets forth a little moan.

Alice makes a mocky pout. "So what would you have me do?"

"Could you fetch the March Hare for me? He should be in his house. Then you two could help dig me out? I'd be forever indebted."

Alice scrunches her face. "Why should I help you?"

He looks confused. "Well, because you're Alice. You're sweet and kind and," he glances at her wings. "An angel. An angel sent to rescue me."

Alice coos. "You know, I got my heart back. Heart. Hat. Say, would you like your hat back?"

"Oh yes, if you please. I'd very much like that."

"So you can watch my suffering?"

"Oh, yes I do so love to watch. Speaking of which, the March Hare went to fetch it. He was supposed to be back by now."

"Fetch what?"

"Watch."

"Watch what?"

"His watch stopped."

"Stop watch?"

"Okay..." He blinks at her.

Alice stares at him but he doesn't say any more, so she says, "What are you doing?"

"Watching."

Alice groans. "Just take the hat." She lifts the hat and plops it on his head, grins.

"Oh, thank you kindly."

"You told me you used to watch me with your hat, watch my suffering and pain others used to inflict on me. That's called voyeurism."

"A big and true word."

"If I dug you out, would you watch me again, as I was in pain?"

He seems to have difficulty nodding. He says, "In a heartbeat."

Alice pouts. "My heart's gone black."

"What's that?" His voice is edged with concern.

"All those times I was being tortured. You were watching it. Enjoying it." She scowls.

"Now, now. I never did it to you. I just—"

"Watched! You enjoyed seeing me in pain! Did you ever feel any sympathy for me? Did you ever try to help me?"

"I—well, yes."

"Liar! You never cared for me!" She reaches out and gently caresses his cheek.

He flinches "I say, little girl, what are you doing?"

Alice feels a part of her grow cold as she looks into his eyes, while still caressing. "Are you capable of compassion? Of love?" Her voice sounds odd—monotone and emotionless.

Alice sees the fear in the Hatter's face as he reads her expression. "Go away. I no longer require your assistance. I'll manage, really."

Alice reaches out with her other hand to caress his other cheek at the same time—the Hatter flinches once again. "What—what are you doing?"

Alice gazes into his eyes with a dreamy, faraway expression. "I once was a sweet innocent angel, but I've fallen. Now I'm a different kind. An angel of death."

"What?" To the house, he yells, "I say, March Hare come out here quick! There is a little girl you must maul!"

She presses her fingertip to his mouth, "Shhhh. It won't hurt. See I can still show mercy."

The Hatter strains to get free, but of course he can't. "Whatever it is you want to do, don't do it. I can do things for you. Make you hats. You like hats right?"

"I want you to know that what I'm about to do is because of what you did, because you got pleasure from watching my pain. You see, that's why you now have to pay."

"I can't pay. I haven't any money." He attempts to chuckle.

"Ooh, I've thought up a rhyme. I shall recite it lest I forget.

"My angel lips seek yours, to kiss.

I taste your fear, your quickened breath.

My blackened heart has made me this:

An angel fallen, and of death."

He begins shuddering and crying.

"Awww." She presses her hands firmly to the sides of his cheeks as he watches, trembling, his tear-filled eyes wide in terror. Alice scooches forward and kisses him full on the lips for several seconds. When she is done, she licks softly at some of the tears on his face. "Mmm. I can taste your fear."

"Please," he begs in a terrified whisper. She lifts the hat off his head, sets it on the ground. "You won't be needing this."

Alice goes back to caressing up and down the sides of his face and under his chin. "You never loved me," she murmurs.

Another whimpering whisper from him. "Let me. I can."

"That...was your kiss of death." She firmly grabs hold of the spots on top of his head and under his chin, and snaps his neck.

His head doesn't twist all the way around like with the Knight, though. His head slumps, eyes still open, his chin rests on the ground. He's dead.

"You never loved me," she mumbles, but the rage is gone. There is only an emptiness and sadness, as she rises and turns away so she doesn't have to meet his eyes, which are glistening with his tears.

And she realizes, there are no tears in her own eyes.

She picks up her hat. This time the pain in her heart is hardly noticeable and there is no spasming. The pain leaves quickly and now there is just the numbing sensation of coldness.

Chapter 41 The March Hare

She lifts her gaze as she sees the March Hare rounding the corner of his house. He waves, shouts, "Your Highness!" while smiling.

Alice considers running back to the groundhog hole, but the Hare seems friendly.

She waits while he hops over, causing the large watch on a chain around his neck to jostle about—the watch has never run for as long as she's known him. He's also holding some sort of brass object in his other hand.

He stands before her now. "Queen Malice. I waited, just as you said. I wish to be a loyal subject." But now he peers at her face. And her wings. "Wait—"

She decides to just own up to it. "No, I'm Alice. In a costume."

"Ah, I see that now. Don't let Malice catch you here. She wants you dead."

"So I've heard." She looks down at the instrument in his hand. "Why, is that what they call a syringe?"

He holds it up. "Why yes, I have it filled with a few doses of the reviver."

"Do those things really work?" She'd heard of syringes before, but they were a relatively new device that not every doctor used or trusted—at least not since the last she'd heard of them, in the outside world.

"They work quite well if you know the proper way about it. I've used it so much on the Dormouse, I've become a pro." He peers at the Dormouse. "He needs to be revived. I already revived the Hatter." He glances at the Hatter curiously, after which he looks at Alice. "I do hope you'll overthrow Queen Malice. She's an obnoxious brat!"

"But when you thought I was her, you were smiling!"

"Just trying to stay on her good side. But that's just between you and me, right?"

She nods. "Okay. So what's—"

"I do hope you'll excuse me, as I must inject my stupid friend here." He points his chin at the Dormouse lying face first on the ground. "I do believe he's overindulged again."

"Oh, certainly. I should like to see this device in work."

"Thank you." The March Hare kneels beside the Dormouse's body. She doesn't think all this talk of a "reviver" is strange at all. After all, if her tears can bring creatures back to life, why can't a liquid in a syringe?

The March Hare searches the Dormouse's arm. "You might want to look away."

"No, I want to see."

He doesn't reply. Merely sticks the sharp metal into the Dormouse's arm and presses on top of the device, removes it, then slips the safety cap back on.

He stands. "There, he should revive shortly. Usually it takes a few minutes."

"Usually? Does he die often?"

"Oh, he's not dead. He's just overdosed. I mean...he's just asleep." He turns his attention to the Mad Hatter. "I say, what's the matter with the Hatter? Did Malice accost him with a scorpion again?"

Alice shrugs. Apparently the March Hare doesn't know the Dormouse is dead—with his throat having been slashed. She debates whether to inform him, decides against it. Instead she wants to pry into the curious statements of the Hare. She says, "So does the Dormouse overdose often?"

He turns his attention away from the Mad Hatter. "Eh? You shouldn't concern yourself with such things. You're just a little girl."

"But I know about overdosing, from the Caterpillar. He would smoke special spices. When you smoke too much, it's called overdosing."

The March Hare peers at her, says, "Yes, but enough talk. You're just—"

She interrupts, "I'm just a little girl! But my heart has been blackening since yesterday. Now I daresay, it's gone completely black. So I'm not sweet and innocent anymore. So you can tell me."

He sighs. "Very well. I used to keep it secret from you before, but if it's true you're blackhearted..."

She nods. "It's true."

"Well, the Dormouse used to inject himself with a well, think of it as a special kind of spice. And this spice would make him fall asleep off and on."

"Oh, I never knew it was because of that."

"Yes, well, sometimes he would take a bit too much and pass out, and I would have to revive him with a substance that counteracts the spice to wake him up. You'll see. He should be coming around any moment now. Aw, my poor dear friend. He's got a problem, you know." He looks sad.

Alice doesn't have the heart to tell him the Dormouse is dead beyond the hope of being revived by the concoction.

She says, "The Hatter told me you used an antidote on him."

"Yes, yes. I injected him with this." He lifts the syringe. "I had good reason to believe the reviver would work on the scorpion's venom, and so it did, although perhaps it wore off. After you spoke to him, did he pass out or something?"

"Or something."

"Hmm?" He looks back at the Dormouse. "Come on. Wake up, old friend. You'll be okay. Just overdid it again."

"He's dead."

She meets his eyes as he says, "No, he'll be okay. It's like he's asleep."

A wicked smile stretches the skin of her face. "He's dead. His throat has been slit, by Malice."

She watches in delight as he checks the Dormouse's body, sees the blood and the cut flesh, as he screams out an anguished, "Noooo! She killed him! My friend!" The syringe drops from his hand and he breaks down into sobs.

And Alice watches, taking pleasure in his pain.

Well, well, turns out I did have the heart to tell him after all...a black heart.

She feels the oddly pleasurable sensation of coldness grow in her chest.

Chapter 42 The Tinkerer

Sneakily, Alice kneels and slips the syringe in her pocket—it feels as if there are some doses left. Sure, it's stealing but people had stolen from her, so it's only fair for her to do it too. The March Hare is too preoccupied with his grief to notice. As Alice is gleefully watching the March Hare sob in misery, she hears a little girl's voice call out, "Queen Alice!" from the direction of the March Hare's house.

Alice and the March Hare turn to see a young girl, perhaps eight years old, dressed in a blue dress, accompanied by four guard cards. The little girl calls, "Do not flee! I wish merely to speak to you!"

Alice turns to look at the groundhog hole.

"Yes!" the girl calls. "Stay safe in your hole while we talk. We'll keep our distance! Please don't fly away!"

Alice does as suggested, hopping into the hole as the girl and cards approach. She peers out, her chest above ground, knowing she can duck inside in case of any trouble. She says, "Before you ask, I have Humpty Dumpty's arms taped to my back to hold up the Caterpillar's wings."

The girl is smiling now as she stands before the March Hare. She says to Alice, "Oh, I see. We came to speak to the March Hare. But I'm so glad you're here. I've wanted so much to meet you. It's a pleasure."

"Well thank you. But I've never seen you in Wonderland. Who are you?"

"Well, I have a prim, proper name in England, but here in Wonderland, you may refer to me as the Tinkerer."

Alice's eyes go wide. "You're the Tinkerer? The one Malice brought over from the other world?"

"Oh, no, she didn't bring me. I crossed over."

"How?"

She shrugs. "I've been monitoring Wonderland for quite some time. I've been waiting for any instance of weakened boundaries between the two worlds. That instance was when you and your reflection separated..."

Alice is having a hard time processing all of this. "How?"

She waves her hand. "Through the Looking Glass. Look, before we continue, you should know that I'm a highly intelligent girl. I have a genius level intelligence. And as I can tell that you're wondering, I am eight years old."

"But why would you choose to come here?"

"Well, I find your world quite interesting. Different from my own. I might stay and tinker around, create inventions. I like to challenge myself, you see."

"Are those Malice's guards?"

"Yes, she's given me full command of these guards for my little trip. I've decided to work with Malice for the moment, due to the interesting puzzle she presented me with."

"What puzzle?"

"She wanted me to devise a way for her to cross through the Looking Glass into the other world."

"What? Why would you help her do that?"

A shrug. "Well, I find the concept quite intriguing. And I believe I have devised a way for her to do it, assuming my theories of Wonderland's time progression are correct."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, sorry. I'll try to explain it on your level. I've been studying Wonderland's timeline. I believe I may be able to send Malice through the Looking Glass by creating a reflection for her, because she needs one to go through, and currently she doesn't have one. But in order to do so, I must speed up time in Wonderland."

The March Hare gasps.

"Guards!" the Tinkerer says, and the guards grab a firm hold of the March Hare. To Alice she says, "Now this is vastly simplified, but, 'place time' has frozen in Wonderland, due to the Red Queen. The creatures of Wonderland continue forward in time, but Wonderland stays the same. This is because the Red Queen keeps running and staying in the same place. She doesn't want Wonderland to go through the changes that time brings."

"You're going to make the Red Queen stop running?"

"Yes, then I shall speed up Wonderland's 'place time' using the March Hare's watch and that will cause all of Wonderland's technology to advance. Once that's done it will take mere minutes for me to use the technology to create what the Looking Glass will consider a 'reflection'. And voila, Malice'll be able to go through. It's quite fascinating."

"I really think you should reconsider."

"Tut tut. Don't bore me with efforts to dissuade me. If she wants to dominate and rule in that world, so be it. I'm glad you're here, so you can watch what happens next, assuming my theories are correct. I shall be adjusting your watch, March Hare. Kneel."

"No!" He struggles against the guards to no avail.

The girl says, "Au contraire mon frere March Hare. Guard." One of the guard nods, punches the March Hare in the stomach. He cries out in pain and sobs. He drops to his knees.

The Tinkerer gestures at the watch. "The March Hare's watch is a very special one, tied into the flow of time in Wonderland. He's been using it for his own selfish purposes to keep his personal time frozen. I don't want to get into the complicated explanations. But basically, he's called the March Hare because for him, it's always March. His watch tells the month and day but not the hours. As long as he kept the watch stopped, his personal time stayed the same, and he never aged."

The March Hare is sobbing. "I—you don't understand!"

"If my theory is correct, if I turn the hands of the watch forward, it will cause the March Hare's personal time to move forward..."

"No!" the March Hare shouts. "Don't do that! Please!"

"Punch him." The guard punches.

The March Hare struggles to recover.

"So," says the Tinkerer, "the Hare's personal time will move forward, but the 'place' time of Wonderland shouldn't change, because the Red Queen is still running. Now let's see if my theory is correct." She turns to face the March Hare.

The Hare whimpers, "Please..."

The Tinkerer begins turning the hands of the watch. Alice has done it before herself, to clocks—as one turns the minute hand clockwise, the hour hand will turn as well. But the Hare's watch has a month hand and a day hand.

As the Tinkerer turns the hands of the watch, the March Hare begins to visibly age before their eyes, with a terrified expression.

The Tinkerer says, "Interesting. The accelerated aging is much faster than I had predicted, though."

Decades have passed for the March Hare. He looks old and frail, his fur is completely gray.

The Tinkerer is mumbling to herself, "I shall have to review my calculations."

The head of the extremely old March Hare slumps and his body goes limp. He seems to have died of old age.

The Tinkerer lifts the watch from around his neck, then slips the chain around her own. "Guards, toss him in his grave."

As they go about doing so, she turns to Alice, who is standing in shocked silence.

The Tinkerer says, "Well, I'm glad to have met you. My business here is done, so til we meet again." She curtsies. "If you come up with any interesting puzzles for me, don't hesitate to get in touch."

In stunned silence, Alice royally waves.

The guards toss the body in the grave. The Tinkerer and guard cards begin walking away.

Chapter 43 The Garden of Live Flowers

I'm a roly-poly,

A rolled up ball of hate!

Just like a fist, I'm rolled up tight,

And like a fist, I wait.

I've done such wretched things before,

That caused such misery.

They got what they were asking for,

T'was either them or me.

I'm just a little pill bug,

Who learned I can fight back.

So now I'll never give hugs.

Instead, I'll just attack!

Alice rolls toward the hole by the former-Caterpillar's mushroom.

She wants to get spiced up. To take away this sadness and emptiness she feels. She's a cold-hearted killer and no one will ever love her. If she was heartless she wouldn't care, but her black heart makes her hate herself and she wants it to stop.

And so, she will catch up with the Wingless Butterfly and take his hookah...

When she arrives, she discovers that the box of spice she'd thrown in the hole is gone.

She comes out of the groundhog hole near the mushroom. Immediately she sees the Knight's windup horse trotting through the grass, headed her way. She laughs at the ridiculousness of it, and of life in Wonderland, and the hopelessness of it all.

Did you follow me, tinkertoy horse? How did you reckon I'd be here? Am I your new owner then?

The horse is still quite a distance away, so Alice turns her attention to her original task, locating the Wingless Butterfly. She squints her eyes, staring at the ground, scanning. The Garden of Live Flowers isn't very far away, but the Wingless Butterfly is a tiny insect, so he can't have gone very far.

Alice starts walking while staring at the ground. "Butterfly?" she calls. As she walks, the windup horse shifts its path to continue toward her.

After a while a tiny voice answers, "Here!"

Soon she is looking down at the small insect. She takes some nibbles of mushroom, to shrink herself down to his size.

I wonder if that horse will continue in this direction or wander off, now that he can't see me anymore.

She is standing next to the Wingless Butterfly, who grasps the prized hookah in his two front legs.

He smiles. "Have you come to carry me the rest of the way?"

Alice nods and nods while walking toward him, but she quickly pounces and pulls the hookah from his feeble insect appendages and runs off with it.

"Hey!" he shouts. "What are you doing?" He tries to run after her, but apparently, butterflies can't run very fast.

"It's mine now!" she shouts. She laughs in a way that reminds her of the cackle of a witch. She never used to laugh that way before.

She takes a bite of mushroom to enlarge herself. The windup horse is just a short distance away. Alice is holding the hookah, which has grown in size just like she has.

The little insect calls up to her. "No, you thief! Give it back!"

"Who are you to order me about?" She lifts her foot, holds it above the butterfly.

"No, wait!"

"I oughta squash you!"

"No! Please don't! Take it!"

"Okay, I will." She playfully taps him a few times with her foot as he squeals and tries to scurry away.

She takes her foot away and stands on two feet again. She sighs. "What's wrong with me? I don't want to be like this."

The Wingless Butterfly tries to slink away quietly. She pays him no more attention. Instead she runs toward the horse.

The Garden of Live Flowers and their spices will end this misery. I shall smoke them until I no longer remember I'm in Wonderland.

She pats the side of the metal horse, hoists herself up. She feels the saddle shift to allow her to sit in the sidesaddle fashion, so she won't have to ride in an indecent manner while wearing her dress.

She doesn't know quite how to go about managing a windup horse. She sees no reins. So she says, "Um, horsey, that away, to your left, that's it. Onward! Tallyho! But not too fast."

"Yes, milady." The horse does as directed. Soon they are heading toward the Garden of Live Flowers at a decent clip.

She'd always tried to visit the Garden of Live Flowers at least once a month. She liked going there, because the flowers always accepted her as one of their own. Literally. They always thought she was another flower for some reason. But she always loved the attention so much, she couldn't bear to tell them the truth.

Soon, she and the horse are in front of the garden, which is a large flower-bed, with a border of daisies.

She always had to talk first. "I say flowers, wake up!"

"Who's that?" says a rose.

Now the others begin to awaken and murmur.

"It's me Alice!"

The Tiger-lily exclaims, "Effrontery! You are not Alice. Alice is a well-behaved, prim flower, like us! You are a butterfly! Have you come to rob our nectar? And why are you on a horse?"

"Oh no, it's me Alice. I have just taped wings to my back. And the horse is not mine. It followed me. It's a long story."

There is much murmuring amongst the flowers, but the Tiger-lily shouts, "Hush you all. We can't all speak at once." The Tiger-lily is a bit bossy and tends to take control a lot, even though there is no real leader in the garden. "Now, I don't believe you're Alice. I believe you're an intruder and I think you should leave!"

Alice feels the pain of rejection. "Don't you recognize me? Don't you know me by this time?" Alice always knew the flowers really didn't accept her for who she really was—they thought she was floral. So she always used to pretend so they'd be nice to her. But how could they not recognize her just because she has wings? It hurts to think about it.

"Alice would never pretend to be a butterfly. She knows how angry that would make us."

Alice is beyond tears. She just accepts the truth. No one will ever love me as I am. And those flowers only want me to do what they decide, act like they act. Well, to hell with them.

Alice sighs. "I don't want your precious nectar. I just want some spice, to take away the wretchedness of my black black heart."

Shouts and murmurings of outrage amongst the flowers follow.

The Tiger-lily shouts, "Go away! You can't have any of our spice!"

"Well you can't stop me! You're just flowers, you can't even move."

"Curses to you, butterfly!"

The other flowers join in, insulting her and ordering her to leave.

She screeches, "I am not a butterfly! I'm Alice." She reaches behind her and yanks violently at the wings, pulling them free enough that they hang behind her back, out of sight.

More shouts of outrage from the flowers. The Tiger-lily shouts, "Alice, how could you do that? That's not appropriate behavior for a flower."

"I'm not a flower! I'm a human!"

There are gasps of shock.

"That's right, and though I know that ruins everything and you will never accept a human, you never knew the real me anyway. It was all nothing. Fake! And I shall take your spice and smoke it and forget all about you and forget everything, and I hope you all get mowed down!"

And she does hope that. If they won't accept her, they can all die. She only regrets that she has no easy way to kill them all right now.

The flowers shout insults and express outrage, but since they're flowers, they can't do anything else.

She and her shadow cross their arms.

Over the flowers' screaming her shadow shouts, "I'm leaving if you don't put my wings back right now."

Alice looks down and shouts, "Fine! Leave then! You can't boss me around."

"Fine!" And the shadow disappears.

Alice chooses to become angry so she won't have to feel sad. She never wants to feel sad. She will go into the garden and take the spice, whether they like it or not. And if she tramples or uproots a few of them in the process, so be it!

But she stops. Sits unmoving, still seated on the horse. The flowers go silent.

She's feeling a strange sensation through her body, like static electricity. The horse begins glowing with a white light, as does the ground around her.

She snarls. Oh crikey! What now? I don't need this nonsense.

Some of the flowers are murmuring, asking things like, "What's going on?" and "Do you feel that?"

She shouts, "Shut up, shut up! I can't stand your stupid voices!" That's when the horse starts shifting beneath her bottom, interrupting her a moment, but she manages to tack on, "I hate you!"

She turns her attention to the glowing horse. "Horsey, what are you doing?" The horse transforms before she has a chance to jump off—she suddenly finds herself sitting on a bench inside what seems to be a stagecoach.

In amazement, she watches as a steering wheel sprouts in front of her.

The former horse says, "I have become a steam-powered horseless carriage, milady."

"Horseless carriage? How did you manage that?"

"Wonderland's time is speeding forward, milady."

Now she remembers how the Tinkerer wanted to use the March Hare's watch to speed up the "place time" of Wonderland. If she understood everything correctly, her own age would stay the same.

Beneath her bottom, the carriage continues shifting, the seat becomes softer, the whole machine becomes lower. Outside, she sees dirt paths appear in the fields.

The flowers appear the same.

"What are you now?" she asks.

"A car, a more modern kind of horseless carriage."

"Curious." Alice feels dread come over her. The Tinkerer said that once she sped up the "place" time in Wonderland, she would make a reflection for Malice so she could go through the mirror. Alice really doesn't want that to happen, and she desperately wants to do something to stop it.

Meanwhile the car and outside area continues shifting. The dirt paths seem to grow cobblestones and the car she's in keeps changing, shifting.

The flowers are making a racket again.

Dials and numbers seem to grow before her eyes. Alice's black dress transforms to a less fluffy skirt and top.

"Car, how long will this continue?"

"I don't know milady. I'm not the one doing it."

"What are all these dials, on your, place."

"It's called my dashboard. The dials are so the driver can tell how fast they're going or how much fuel they have left. Things like that."

"So you're becoming a more advanced car?"

"Yes."

"What can you do?"

Outside, the paths transform into paved roads with yellow and white lines painted on them. Signs announcing the speed limit spring up. Alice's black dress transforms to a plain, tighter fitting version.

Alice shouts, "Shut up, stupid flowers."

That quiets them for the moment, but she has no doubt they'll start up with their jabbering soon.

"I can drive up to speeds of almost 100 miles per hour, though that would surpass the speed limit, and can get 23 miles per gallon."

"Gallons of what?"

"Gasoline."

"Gasoline?"

"It's a form of fuel, like coal."

"Ohh." Outside, the paved roads transform into some sort of white material.

Alice says, "You have glowing numbers all over your dashboard."

"Yes. Digital numbers. I'm computerized now."

Still things continue shifting.

The car says, "I have acquired weaponry."

"Pray tell. What kind?"

"A computer-fired machine gun mounted on top of me. It's a kind of gun that shoots a lot of bullets very fast."

The flowers begin shrieking and yammering again.

"Can you blast the stupid flowers with it?"

"I could try, but bullets don't work the best on flowers."

Before she can reply, she is jolted upward in her seat, something lifts her up and forces her into a standing position. Something covers her eyes and now she is looking down at the garden from ten feet up.

The flowers begin shrieking in terror.

"What now?"

"I am now a combat mech."

"What?"

The white glow around her and outside suddenly ends.

"I am like a mechanical suit of armor that is shaped like a human being, about twenty feet tall. There are sensors surrounding your body, so that any movements you make are copied by the machine."

"Ah, so that is why those backstabbing flowers are so afraid of me?"

"Yes, and I have acquired a new form of weaponry that may be more useful against flowers."

"Yes?"

"A flamethrower."

"What's that?"

"Basically, it's like a gun that sends out a big long flame to set things on fire. There are goggles over your eyes, that make it seem like you're looking out the head of the machine. Look in your hand."

Alice turns her head to stare at the metal hand of the machine, holding a sort of gun with a long tube. "Perfect. Can I speak to them from inside this thing?"

"I can turn on the speakers so they can hear anything you say."

"Please do. I'd be ever so grateful."

"They're on."

Alice addresses them. "Hello. This is Alice, speaking from inside this machine. You didn't want me unless I was a flower. But I'm not. So I guess we can't be friends. I want you to know I hate you, and since you rejected me, I'm rejecting you. I have a weapon that shoots out flames and I am going to use it on you."

She lifts her arm and squeezes her finger like firing a gun. She watches a long tendril of flame shoot harmlessly into the air out from the suit's gun.

The flowers erupt into screams and shouts of terror.

"I'm tending the garden by...burning you all!" She lowers her arm, sending the whooshing flame into the garden and moving it back and forth. As the flowers shriek, Alice yells, "Burn in helllll!"

It takes only a few seconds to transform the garden into a blackened crumbling garden of ashen flowers.

The screams of the flowers' are no more, there is only the sound of the flame and Alice's scream of rage.

She shuts the flame off, panting heavily, but she sheds no tears. They deserved to die.

Too late, she realizes that now she can't smoke their spice. "Oh bother. Say, combat mechy? Do you happen to have the hookah still?"

"Yes, m'lady."

"Is it changed? It hasn't become a hookah mechy has it?"

"No, milady. Some technology can't be improved upon."

She sees the thick plume of smoke, and with sudden inspiration, she leans forward and inhales deep. She smells nothing except the peculiar smell of the goggles and mechanical parts.

"Oh, sorry, milady, you are sealed off from the outside air."

"Well, unseal me! I need to inhale the smoke before it floats off!"

"Milady I do not advise—"

"That's an order!"

Alice hears the sound of something solid sliding up in front of her, though she sees nothing do so. Then the whoosh of smoke enters her lungs, so thick that she starts to cough, but she hopes the lungful of smoke will soon start having its effect. She feels a tingling sensation slam into the top of her head and expand over her skull. At the same time, something is nagging at the back of her mind, something she must attend to, but she can't remember what.

She suddenly stumbles, hears the sound of the large machine plowing into grass and dirt followed by the patter of rocks and dirt falling back to the ground.

"I am disengaging control of the mech suit, for your own safety."

She giggles. "Sounds like a good idea."

Her eyelids begin to droop. She's feeling good now. She struggles to figure out what she's supposed to remember, concentrating through her hazy thoughts.

It comes in a flash. "The Tinkerer! She said that only few minutes later, after time go fast—would make reflection. Go through mirror!"

Despite the fact she is swaying, the mech suit is frozen, as is the scene before her eyes—it's as if she's looking at a picture. It's quite disconcerting.

"Begging your pardon, milady?"

"Ahhh! Can I take these goggles off?"

"Yes milady."

She does so, finds herself in a compartment in the stomach area of the suit. The compartment is open in front of her, revealing a different perspective of the burnt garden and smoke, which has mostly floated off now.

She fumbles to get out of the sensors on her body, mumbles, "Must stop Malice, from...leaving..." She falls, stumbles clumsily against the the back of the small compartment.

Sitting against it, she sees the hookah and her hat resting in front of her, slightly to the right. She laughs as she points at them and pretends to flick them with her fingers held in front of her eyes.

Clumsily, she recovers the hat, places it atop her head and taps it.

She is favored with a curious scene.

It truly looks like a mad scientist's laboratory.

Malice and the Tinkerer are standing on either side of a baby in a crib.

The Tinkerer is hunched over the baby, touching something on the baby's chest.

Malice, still wearing her mask says, "I can't believe it's working."

The Tinkerer says, "Yes, my theories were correct. By focusing the March Hare's watch on 'personal time' I can make anyone age or grow young, it seems. What a fascinating world you have."

"Yes, fascinating. Just keep turning those hands. That stupid Queen of Hearts won't find us in time. Soon, we'll cross over."

Alice catches a glimpse of the March Hare's watch around the baby's neck.

Alice's view of the scene shuts off this time because she so clumsily flops about that her hat falls off.

And she just wants to enjoy this feeling, and forget about everything else. She doesn't care anymore, even though she knows she should. She'll worry about it later. For now, there is only the feeling of the spice to be felt while sitting inside this compartment of a giant mechanical suit of armor.

The thought makes her laugh and laugh.

Then with a slack jaw, she simply stares into The Garden of Ashen Flowers, and thinks nothing at all.

She doesn't know how long she sits there, perhaps a few hours, but after a while, she begins to come out of it. She rubs her face, spends another few minutes looking around. Finally, she says, "Combat mechy?"

"Yes, milady?"

"How long have I been sitting here?"

"Approximately 48 minutes, milady."

She sighs. "Well, back to real life." She thinks for a moment. There was something she was supposed to remember. About Malice. "What the heck have I been doing this whole time?"

"I've just received a message from the Queen of Hearts."

"What kind of message?"

"A massive email—it's kind of like a telegram. She has declared herself Queen of Wonderland due to her coup d'etat. The message also says that the former Queen Malice has fled and there is a bounty on her head."

"She's going to the Looking Glass House, I just know it! If she gets there, she'll be able to cross through the Looking Glass if the Tinkerer accomplished what she said she would! Tell the Queen of Hearts to send her guards to the Looking Glass House!"

"The message has been sent."

"Oh, dear, I don't know if they'll get there in time. Combat mechy, how fast can this thing go?"

"45 miles per hour."

"Do you know if it would be faster to get to the Looking Glass House using this suit or if I rolled through the groundhog tunnels?"

"I have a map of Wonderland. According to my calculations it would be faster if you rolled through the groundhog tunnels."

"Oh, dear, Malice might almost be there. If it's not too late already, I may be the only one able to get there in time! I must stop her! Quick, take me to that groundhog hole over there."

The combat mech hops and bounds. During the short trip, Alice realizes that after she burned the flowers she felt no heart spasming or chilling effect. She doesn't know whether to feel good or bad about that. She spends the short journey staring ahead in mute silence.

Minutes later, the combat mech releases her and she hops into the hole, scrunches up and rolls toward the hole that must be near the Looking Glass house, because she assumes the Groundhog must have gone there to dig a grave for the Jabberwock, who used to guard the Looking Glass House.

Chapter 44 Showdown

Alice uncurls and pops her head out of the groundhog hole. Her sense of direction was correct. She sees the Jabberwock's decapitated body and a grave next to it. Behind the body is the Eighth Square where the house that contains the Looking Glass is. It was through it that she first entered Wonderland, and perhaps someday she'll leave through there, if she can ever get her reflection back.

She wastes no time running over and entering the house.

Quickly, she makes her way to the room where the Looking Glass is.

She peers around. The Jabberwock's decapitated head still rests on the ground next to the sack. And there is the Looking Glass.

She steps up to it to look in, wishing she could go through it into the outside world. But Alice can only go through the mirror if she and her reflection are reflected in the mirror at the same time. She'd learned that Malice was no longer her perfect reflection because Malice had no heart, so Alice couldn't use Malice to go through the mirror.

I hope I'm not too late, she thinks as she peers into the mirror. As she expected, she doesn't see herself reflected back to her, sees only the objects of the room behind her.

If I'm not too late, I should cover the mirror, so Malice won't be able to go through it.

She looks around and quickly fixes her eyes on the tablecloth, grabs it—it has a chessboard and cup and a vase on it. She yanks quickly and the trick works and she pulls the cloth out from under them causing the objects to merely wobble.

"Voila!" she shouts, and bows. She drapes the cloth over the mirror, tucking the top inside the edges. Only a sliver of mirror on the lower left edge still shows.

She pulls out the dueling pistol, but discovers it has transformed into a black blocky gun, at least she assumes it's a gun. It has a trigger, at least, but she's confused about various knobs and levers on it. She hides beside the doorway and waits.

A dozen or so minutes later, she hears a female voice call through the door, "I'm here!"

Alice watches as Malice rushes into the room in her mask and catsuit, holding a spear, rushing over to the covered mirror.

Alice comes out from her hiding spot. "Hello, Malice." She points the pistol at her twin. She notes that the spear is not the wooden-handled kind she's used to—it's all made of some kind of black material, even the tip.

Malice turns around, looks at the gun, then at Alice's face. "You! What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question. I'd set that spear down if I were you, or I'll shoot you where you stand."

Malice crinkles her eyes as she meets Alice's own. "You couldn't. You have a heart..." She takes a step.

Alice meets her twin's stare with a stare twice as cold. "My heart, has grown black."

With grim satisfaction, Alice watches her halt her steps, take on the demeanor of hesitation. "Really?" Malice says.

Alice gives a sickly sweet smile. "Now, would I lie? Oh, right, yes I would. But in this case I'm quite telling the truth. I've committed murder and cruel acts several times today, and with each time, my heart grew blacker, until now, I doubt there's any red left still in it. Now drop the spear."

Malice drops it. "Are you to kill me, then?"

"You mean shoot you right here? Oh, no, that would be too easy. I want you to stand trial for what you've done. The Queen of Hearts is back in power. She can hold your trial. Once you're found guilty, I want to see you punished, and I want to play my part in your punishment. Oh, that will satisfy my black heart. The pain you endure shall be exquisite." She licks her lips.

"We can not allow that. We would rather be shot dead."

Alice laughs. "What is with your 'We'? Don't you understand? You are no longer a Queen, to refer yourself in the royal We. Now, the chains you used on me yesterday are still here. I say you chain yourself up, lock the lock then toss me the key, then we wait for the guards to arrive. They should be here shortly. What say ye, peasant?"

"I say, I'd rather be shot dead and die as a queen, than live as a commoner! I'm sorry, shoot me if you must, I blow you my goodbye kiss!" She takes a couple steps, raises her palm in front of her mouth and blows—while flinging something from her palm—Alice watches a small black object lift off from Malice's palm, flying into the air into Alice's cheek.

She flinches back and pulls the trigger, but no shot fires.

Alice hears herself scream, as she feels a sharp piercing pain on her cheek. Alice drops the pistol, reaches to grab the thing on her cheek and pulls it off her. She sees that it's a scorpion, quickly flings it away.

The syringe.

In her peripheral vision she sees the scorpion slam into the wall with a clicking sound and shout out, "Ow!"

Alice's legs are already failing her. She must act quickly.

Which pocket did I put the syringe in, left or right? The right, I think.

Alice turns away from the laughing Malice, while reaching her hand in the pocket. She feels through the various objects, grabs the syringe, slips the safety cap off. She presses the needle through the fabric into the skin of her thigh.

No time to find a vein.

She injects the full dose. She has to take her hand out of her pocket now, because she is falling face first onto the ground. She manages to break her fall, but her arms aren't working the way they should.

Now she tries to get up, but none of her muscles respond. She's breathing and blinking but they're operating on reflex—she can can barely move her eyes.

She feels Malice grabbing her and rolling her over. Alice is on her back now, with Malice looking down into her face.

Malice looks down at Alice with a mock-pitying look, and tssks. "Aww, look at you. You're all paralyzed."

The Scorpion shouts, "I wanna see!"

Malice looks behind herself. If Alice could move, she would attack, but alas, she can't. Malice says, "Yes, little one. I want you to watch." Malice disappears from Alice's view for a moment, now reappears. Malice motions her head toward her shoulder where the little scorpion now rests. Malice says, "This little one's poison is quite powerful. It can paralyze a girl our size for a couple of hours, though it empties her wittle tail. It'd take a day for her to regenerate her poison."

"Untrue!" shouts the Scorpion. "I can do it in 20 hours."

"Oh, hush. Quit being so technical. You're interrupting my speech. You do want to watch, right?"

"I'm sorry. Go on."

"Yes, as I was saying," Malice says, "In nature, the Scorpion uses the venom to freeze its host."

Alice's eyes go wide—at least she can still move her eyes somewhat.

Malice chuckles. "That's right. This particular breed of scorpion paralyzes its host, then lays its legs in it. The scorpion keeps reinjecting the host to keep it paralyzed. When the eggs hatch, the cute little baby scorpions eat the host for food. And the host stays alive the whole time. Doesn't that just sound horrible? Well, eventually, the host dies of course. They must welcome it, don't you think?" She pretends to wait for an answer. She pouts. "Oh, I notice you've stopped blinking. The venom must have taken full effect. Don't worry, you'll keep breathing."

Alice realizes that what Malice said is true. She can feel her eyes beginning to dry out.

The little scorpion is chuckling.

Malice says, "Don't worry. We're gonna skip the whole egg laying part and jump right to the end. We don't have the time. Soon we'll go through the Looking Glass and out into the outside world, to rule over their world. So I'll have to end this quick."

Alice feels tears well up in her eyes and roll down the side of her face.

Malice, seeing, says, "Ah, that will happen. Your eyes tear up to try to wet your eyes from their not blinking. It's a reflex." She looks down. She lifts a shiny metal object and holds it for Alice to see. "Remember this razorblade? It's the same one Humpty cut you with. The same one my twin used to slice the Dormouse's neck. I'm gonna use it to slice yours."

Twin? What was Malice talking about?

Alice realizes now that she is able to move her fingers slightly. She thinks she might be able to move her eyes too. But she struggles to keep from blinking in order to hide it from Malice.

Is the anti-venom finally kicking in?

Malice moves closer, presses the edge of the razorblade against Alice's neck. Alice is reminded of how Malice did the same thing just yesterday.

Malice says, "We're a lot alike, you and I, it's just that you have a heart. But yours I've heard, has turned black. So you'll forgive me if I don't lick your poisoned tears. However..."

A shout comes from outside. A male voice. "Alice? Are you there? We've arrived!"

Malice looks about. Alice takes the opportunity to blink. Malice says, "No! Who? We can't go through the mirror unless we're together!"

The Scorpion shouts, "We must escape. The guards come!"

"Hush!" Malice snarls.

Alice is able to move more, but is still mostly paralyzed. She can only watch helplessly.

"Maybe we both lose. But you shall not win. I offer you a kiss. A kiss goodbye, a kiss of death." Malice leans down and kisses Alice's lips. She raises her head. Now a look of surprise flashes her face. "You blinked?"

Alice reaches up and snaps Malice's neck. As the body slumps on top of her, Alice looks to see the Scorpion still on Malice's shoulder, tail raised as if to strike.

Alice flicks the insect away. It plonks into the wall with a scream.

She hears a rustling noise behind her, but when she turns to look, she sees no one.

Alice smirks, and backs away from under Malice's body. She's wiping her tears, being careful not to shed any on Malice. She doesn't want to accidentally bring the pest back to life.

She calls out, "I'm in here!"

She looks around and spies the Scorpion, quietly scurrying toward the door.

"Ahah!" She bounds over to it.

The Scorpion halts and lifts her tail. "Try anything and I'll sting you!"

"So what if you do? I know you used up all your poison."

"Ha! I built it up. Now you—"

Her sentence is cut short because Alice steps on her while shouting, "Squish!" and she is crushed, with a popping and crunching noise. Alice grinds her foot into the floor. She looks down at the smeared remains. "Consider yourself exterminated, insect."

Some of the guard cards rush into the room now. One shouts, "Queen Alice! Are you okay?"

Alice nods. "I will be."

Guard cards have filled the room now. Some of them are inspecting Malice's corpse.

"It's Malice!" one of them exclaims.

Alice says, "Yes I—"

One of the cards kneeling beside Malice shouts, "No, it's the other one. Because, look she doesn't have a scratch." They've removed her mask. He's pointing at her face.

Alice says, "Scratch?"

The card looks at her. "Yes. Malice has a fresh wound. Across her face. From yesterday, when the Cheshire Cat clawed her face. This," he says, pointing at the dead girl, "must be the other one. The uh, what's the word? You know..."

Alice shrugs. "I have no idea. Tell me!"

One of the other cards says, "Clone."

Alice says, "What? A copy? How?"

The kneeling card says, "We just learned about it. Malice needed a reflection to go through the Looking Glass, so she had the Tinkerer speed up time, then use her science to create something called a 'clone' which is like a twin, that the mirror would consider to be her reflection. But the clone started out as a baby. The Tinkerer used the March Hare's watch to make the clone grow to the age of 13 real fast, and well, this is her." He points at the dead girl.

Alice says, "So Malice is still alive?"

The card shrugs. "Yes. We saw a masked girl a short time ago, running from the house carrying a vorpal blade. She killed one of the guards. I think that was her."

"She escaped?" Alice asks.

"Yes. I'm afraid so."

"Confound it! I can't seem to be rid of her! I used to believe that Wonderland was all a dream, but now I daresay I've grown to consider it a nightmare I can't awaken. But that ends now! I'm choosing to awaken from this horrible bad dream." She closes her eyes and wishes with all her might to awaken.

After a few moments she opens her eyes to see the guard card still there in front of her.

"Um?" he says.

"Oh, bollocks! So what is this horrible nonsense about speeding time?"

"Oh, I believe Wonderland is due for many changes. Time has sped forward, and the thing called science grows more powerful. The clone is just the beginning, I'm afraid."

"Well, what else?"

"I don't really know. I'm just a dumb card, but this science and technology almost seems weirder than all the nonsense of Wonderland before. I predict no good will come of this."

Alice sighs. "We'll see..."

"One more thing."

"Yes?"

The card stands. He hands her a card. "The Queen of Hearts requests your presence at the coup d'etat afterparty."

Alice looks down at the card. It is printed in red ink on black paper, in the shape of a heart.

PART FOUR

Malice in Wonderland #3

Chapter 45 Going to the Ball

Alice walks toward the two wooden doors at the entrance to the Queen of Heart's ballroom. They are currently closed.

Two guards in powdered wigs holding black polymer spears stand on each side of the door. One of them has a fish-head, the other has a frog-head. Curiously, they're both wearing what look like leather chokers sparkling with red jewels, though it looks unfortunate on the fish guy, since he has no neck to speak of.

Alice is teetering precariously on her high heels as she walks, careful not to trip in the dark. The grinning Cheshire Cat's head is whizzing circles around her, which is making Alice dizzy, and not helping her walking at all.

She shouts, "You're like a gnat! Quit your buzzing. You shall cause me to fall."

His wide grin widens. "My Queen, I daresay your dress is so poofy and wide, it would be impossible for you to fall over, and if you did, it would be like rolling into a fountain of pillows." The black, frilly dress is wider than the kind she usually wears. However, like all her dresses, it has pockets hidden away that are capable of carrying a large number of things—like the Thirteen of Heartless card she carries now. It's a card that can be used to take hearts out or put them in, with the use of a hat. She left her own top hat at her hut, though.

She says, "Are you making fun of me? Are you...taking the piss?"

The Cat gasps. "My Queen! You shouldn't talk that way!"

"Why not? My heart is black now. I shall do as I please!" She stops and squinches her eyes at him, staring him down, daring him to contradict her.

He looks down. "Yes, My Queen. I meant no offense. You look quite stunning in that dress."

Alice smiles big. "Well thank you Mr. Cheshire Puss. I'm sure my dress will wow everyone in the Queen's coup d'etat party." A coup d'etat, Alice recently learned, is a French phrase for a violent overthrow of a government by a small group.

Alice nods at the two guards, whom she now stands before and who both seem to be waiting for an appropriate time to break into the conversation.

The Cat's head is hovering in front of the seam of the two doors. He says, "Afterparty."

"Pardon?" says Alice.

"It's technically the coup d'etat afterparty. She has already overthrown Malice, who is still at large by the way."

Alice rolls her eyes. "I suppose I stand corrected. By the way, you are picking nits, and informing me of things I already know, as if I were some sort of idiot."

"Yes, well you are hardly that. My apologies, My Queen." The Cat bows in that most peculiar way of his, floating in midair and dropping down a few inches while looking down.

The two guards are concentrating on looking off to the sides, minding their own business, but Alice notices them both simultaneously glance at her, then quickly away.

Cor blimey! Minding their own business, my foot! Or even...even...my ass!

In irritation, she huffs, and says to the guards, "Oh, what? What is it, then?"

The guards straighten up to adjust their posture more rigidly. They lower their spears together so that they cross in front of the door.

The Cat swerves out of the way and glides to hover behind Alice like a scaredy cat.

As one, the guards proclaim, "Halt! Who goes there?"

Alice rolls her eyes. "I'm Alice. Everyone knows who I am. The Queen of Hearts invited me here. Here, take a look see."

And she reaches into one of the hidden pockets of her dress. She pulls out her invitation card which is written in red ink upon a heart-shaped card cut from black paper.

The fish guard leans and stares with his fish eyes at it. Alice wonders how he can see properly, since his eyes seem poorly situated on the top of his head and even as he reads, he doesn't quite seem to be looking in the right direction.

Finally the guard gives a fish-grin and says, "Ah, so I see! Begging your pardon for any inconvenience, Queen Alice, for you see, we must take pains to keep out the riffraff."

Alice says, "Oh, I completely understand, for riffraff are humbugs." She gives a royal wave to accentuate her point.

"Yes, quite," the guards both say at the same time.

"We shan't keep you longer," says the froggy one.

"Yes, we welcome you, Queen, and feline guest." That was the fishy one.

They put their arm or fin to the door handle and tug in such a regal fashion, and with such majesty, that Alice almost expects choral majestic sounds of awaaa ah ah, and a brilliant shining light from betwixt the widening entrance, like the shining light of a promenading angel.

The doors creakily open wider—there's no awaaa ah, but at least the light's there, making her squint from the sudden brightness since her eyes were surprised after being in the dark so long. And there is soothing orchestra music for dancing.

The doors are completely open now as Alice gazes at the scene, and the two powder-headed buffoons bow deep and sweep their arms (or fins) in that gesture for Alice to enter, in that way that doormen do.

It is quite awe-inspiring for her, for she had always previously been specifically uninvited to the Queen of Heart's events.

Not being invited to a party is depressing enough, but to be specifically uninvited, by being handed an unvitation card that bursts into flames after having read it—well, that was always particularly disheartening. Well, mayhaps I shouldn't use words referring to hearts when thinking to myself, seeing as how mine has recently turned completely black.

So, it's taking a few moments for Alice's eyes to adjust to the light, but now she gazes—her eyes go wide.

The ball room is a large room filled with various guests and courtiers holding wine and plates of hors d'oeuvres. Their necks all seem to sparkle with some sort of jewelled neck collars. There are pillars here and there, chairs to the left and right sides of the room, there's a table to the right with food and drink. In the back is the dancing area and a winding staircase and to the side of that is the orchestra area. Except now she sees that the orchestra isn't there. That area is empty! And now looking up at the chandeliers, she sees that there are no flames or candles, but there are odd glassy bulbs making light. It's odd, but then, there have been a lot of technological advances in the past few days.

Alice hears herself saying, "Oooh and ahhh," as she gazes.

Next to her, the floating head of the Cheshire Cat states, "My, what a grand party."

Alice says, "Quite," with a nod. Now she begins to compose herself. Back straight, maintain your royal posture, girl. She smooths her hands over the top of her dress. There we go.

She steps into the ballroom trying to look regal. As she hears the creak of the doors closing behind her, her nostrils fill with the scent of strawberry perfume and chalky wig powder.

It makes her want to sneeze. She suddenly notices someone standing on her right and she jolts from the sudden awareness. She turns her head to see one of the guard cards standing there, with a tiara on his head, holding a black polymer spear. He's one of the diamonds, probably an eight or nine, but she's not interested in summing them, since she is too busy at the moment staring at his tiara.

The card pipes up: "Welcome, Your Majesty, and esteemed kittenous chauffeur."

"Me...ow," says the Cheshire Cate, in a bored, mocking voice.

The card bows deep, and Alice almost raises her hand to hold the card's tiara in place, but it stays quite in place atop his head.

It's a wonder it doesn't fall off.

Alice doesn't know quite how to respond to the card's deep bow. Normally, she might curtsy, but now that she's a queen (technically) such an act might be embarrassing. So, at a loss as to what to do, she falls back on the trustworthy royal wave. She lifts her arm, cocking her elbow at a royally 38 degree angle at the elbow—she holds her hand up, fingers extended, she slowly rotates her wrist, twisting back and forth.

This is mine royal wave, beneath which thou dost withereth, plebians.

The card says, "May you enjoy the afterparty." He bows again and steps aside.

Chapter 46 The Ball

I'm so glad to finally be invited to one of these parties. Seems I'm finally part of the in crowd.

Her eyes scan the room. It's such a large room filled with cards and creatures, flamingos and characters. She begins to feel self-conscious about her own naked neck, because all of them seem to be wearing the twinkling collars, all except for the guard cards, who wear tiaras. A few of the attendees she could have sworn she had killed already. For example she sees off in the far end of the room, the Mad Hatter talking to the Queen of Hearts. He's wearing a top hat like usual, though it's obviously different from the one Alice left at her hut.

I wonder if I should kill him again, and maybe this time he'll stay dead, she thinks as she scowls. But no, perhaps that would cause a scene. She might have felt fond of him before, perhaps even a little infatuated with him, but that was before her heart turned completely black.

The Queen of Hearts, grinning at the Hatter while he talks, still has her face done up in clown makeup, complete with wild red hair and a ball on her nose—and she too wears a twinkling leather choker.

Alice squints at her because she's far away.

The Queen's face had been transformed by Alice's very own tears a few days ago. I wonder if anyone has informed her of her facial...situation. Perhaps they are afraid to, lest they be beheaded. Or perhaps she wouldn't even believe them, because when she looked in the mirror before, she hadn't seemed to be aware she looked like a clown.

The Queen now turns her head to look at Alice. The Queen of Hearts clownishly grins and royal waves at Alice, who royal waves back. Now the Queen begins walking toward Alice, so Alice begins walking too. If they keep walking, they'll meet in the middle of the room. In the middle of the room, there seem to be two people sitting amongst the dancing ballgoers who are blocking her view but Alice sees...

"Cat," Alice says, "is that the Duchess and the Cook?" She points at them. They seem to be sitting on stools across from each other, peering down at a small red table-clothed table in front of them. The Duchess is wearing the striped black and white suit that prisoners wear (and a twinkling collar). She has a black ball chained to her foot, which looks oddly plain in contrast to her dazzling neck adornment. She's never dressed that way before. The Cook looks as he usually does, except with a collar.

The Cat answers, "Yes, My Queen. I do believe it is them. Haven't a clue what they're doing, sitting there whilst everyone dances, though it seems the Duchess would have a hard time dancing with that heavy thing chained to her."

"I quite agree," Alice says with a nod. "Do you think the magistrate finally arrested her?" She chuckles.

"Perhaps so. He always said he would, but had not enough evidence."

The Duchess had always been suspected of child abuse of her were-pig child. Alice had witnessed the abuse first hand. She says, "What do you fathom they're doing? Playing chess?" At this point, the Cook picks something up, shakes his fist and tosses what look to be dice.

"I haven't a clue My Queen. Would you like me to teleport over there to find out?"

"To that, Your Queen says nay. I think it might be bad manners. We shall simply walk."

Alice looks and sees that the Queen of Hearts has stopped to chat with a white flamingo wearing a red hat with a feather in it, with a bandage around his neck in addition to his collar.

It looks a lot like the flamingo Morley, whom she thought Malice had killed. He's looking rather pale, in fact he looks nearly white as opposed to his usual pink hue, but then she expected him to be dead. Perhaps the paleness comes from having his throat sliced just four days ago. Is his neck wounded? Should he be wearing that collar?

She shakes her head to clear it.

In any case, the Queen is stopping to schmooze as she makes her way toward me. Ah, I shall have to do the same.

"Cat, with whom shall I schmooze?" She looks about. To her left, with his back against the wall, she sees a giant wingless butterfly who looks a lot like the former-caterpillar-who-smoked-a-hookah, but of course, it can't be him, because he's much too big! Upon closer inspection, he looks odd in another way—he looks one dimensional, like a shadow, except he's in color. Alice keeps looking about.

The Cat begins looking too, saying, "Whom is worthy of talking to, do you think?"

"I don't know." She casts her glance about. In front of her, a little to her right, she sees the Tweedle twins, who recently became melded together to form Siamese twins. "Oops," she mutters, as she quickly looks away to avoid eye contact. She turns to her left. "Let's walk this way, shall we?" Now she sees the knight who likes to invent things, in his black suit of armor with no helmet on—he is talking to a walrus and a man whom she knows to be a carpenter. She is looking at the side of the Knight's body, which is facing toward those he's talking to, and now Alice gazes at the side of his face, which is quite disturbing, since his face is facing the opposite direction from his body and thus facing away from the creature he's talking to. She had been the one who had twisted his head all the way around so that it's now backwards. The lower part of his body is doing fine though, holding a glass of wine and gesturing as he talks to the walrus. The Knight seems to be wearing peculiar glasses with little round pieces of metal held out on the sides. She wonders if his neck is tender from being twisted, for he is wearing a collar too. And come to mention it, so is the Walrus.

"Confound it," Alice mutters.

"What is it?" says the Cat. He turns around and exclaims, "Oh, the Knight! He still doesn't have his head screwed on right!" He chuckles. "I say, what form of spectacles are those?"

"Does no one," says Alice, "in this blasted world, ever stay dead? It's a common courtesy to do so."

"Ah, My Queen, I'm guilty as well of not staying dead. Just pray the Knight doesn't ask you to dance. Can you imagine?" He chuckles and Alice giggles.

She says, "I don't imagine you've seen Humpty Dumpty walking about? I wouldn't be surprised. It seems every one else I thought I'd killed is at this party!" She pouts severely.

Alice steals a glance at the Queen of Hearts, who is now once again walking toward the Duchess and the Cook and their game.

"I must admit I'm feeling quite out of place," Alice says to the Cat. "I mean, have you noticed that everyone here except for the cards is wearing a glittering collar?"

As she awaits for a response, she is suddenly startled by an unexpected tapping on her shoulder and gasps as she sees the Tweedle Siamese twins, each with a collar.

The Cat says, "Greetings Tweedles."

"Greetings," says one of the twins, "Ditto," says the other. They turn their attention back to Alice. "Pardon us for frightening you, but would you favor us with a dance?"

Alice stares for a moment at these twins, joined at the chest, with their two heads poking out, two arms at each side. Last she checked, they had a melded arm behind their backs, comprised of two of their arms fused together. In front, they have a leg made of two of their legs combined, so that they seem to be three-legged. And she had been the one who made them that way. She almost laughs at them, but thinks that might be bad manners that would come back to haunt her. Instead she says, "Well I am indeed honoured by your request, but aren't you upset with me, for my role in your...condition?"

"Oh, this?" says one of the twins with a dismissive wave of his hand. "'Tis nothing." "Pish posh," says the other.

"Yes, well of course," the Tweedle continues, "we would love to kill you..." The other twin says, "Agreed." "...but the Queen of Hearts has quite forbid it, so we figure we should at least like to get a dance..." "A shuffling of feet," the other twin says. "...out of it."

One twin says, "So...please?" The other one says, "Yes, what he said." They bow deeply.

Alice thinks they are putting her on the spot and she doesn't appreciate it, but she can't kill them and disrupt the party, but there is no way in the Queen's reign she'll dance with these two buffoons. A sudden bout of wickedness comes over her, so she blurts, "Dance with you?! Well, look at you. They say of bad dancers, 'Oh, they have two left feet.' But do you have two left feet or two right? I can't tell?" She raises a brow.

One twin says, "Why you little." He raises a fist. "Stop," says the other, as he grabs the fist, "it's forbidden to harm her."

But now the Cheshire Cat clears his throat in that dramatic manner that one does (despite currently having no neck). "My Queen, the Queen of Hearts beckons."

Alice turns her head to see the Queen of Hearts motioning with her hand, standing behind the Duchess and Cook. At her side is the Mad Hatter and the Knight.

"Ah, my apologies tripodic gentlemen, but the Queen of Hearts beckons me."

"Cretin," one of the Tweedle twins mutters. "Urchin," mutters the other.

Alice hrmphs and with nose raised in the air begins walking to the Queen. As she does, out in the crowd she thinks she sees the Groundhog talking to a unicorn. The Groundhog looks a bit roughed up with a swollen jaw, and black eye, but he is definitely more alive than she assumed.

"Isn't that the Groundhog?" she says.

"Yes, I do believe it is," the Cat says.

"Pity he's alive."

The Cheshire Cat doesn't say anything.

The last Alice had seen him had been at the entrance to his burrow, where she'd left him for dead.

As they continue walking, the Knight glances at her and hastily departs. Alice now sees that the Duchess and the Cook are seated at some sort of board game—there is a square board with littler squares along the edges. They are keeping their places with little pewter playing pieces that look person-shaped though she is still too far to make everything out.

The Queen watches Alice approach. Next to her stands the Mad Hatter with a scowl on his face. The Queen calls to a guard card who wheels a cart covered with a table cloth atop of which is a large dome cake cover with a mirror surface.

Alice scowls as she reaches the table, remembering all the cruel parties she'd been subjected to before turning 13 a few days ago. "That wouldn't happen to be an unhappy unbirthday cake for me, now would it, for I would find it quite unsettling."

The Queen of Hearts looks aghast. "Oh, my dear uncouth girl, must you be so self-centered? Not everything is about you. Why wouldn't it be my cake? I've a cake to be expecting as well, haven't I Tinkerer-poo?"

The eight-year-old girl answers, "That's right Queeny. It's coming later...when I unleash...the festivities."

Alice hadn't seen her before, because she's so short, and had been hidden by the Queen's skirts. The little girl is the Tinkerer, a genius inventor from the outside world who only a few days ago tried to help Malice cross through the Looking Glass into the outside world.

The girl's voice sounded a bit menacing, Alice thinks, but perhaps she's just playing the role of bratty child.

The Queen of Hearts beams at Alice. "Isn't she a marvelous little girl? Why, just in the past few days, she's fixed so many things, invented so many contraptions, even revived a few of the characters you killed." She tsks.

The Mad Hatter nods next to her. "Revived..." he says.

Alice raises a finger, glares at the Hatter, says, "Yes, about that..."

But the Queen doesn't heed the finger, as she continues, "She even invented this game the Duchess and Cook are playing. It's based on our very own Wonderland. She's always working on something."

Now the Duchess says, "Yes, and you're interrupting. I happen to be winning. Shhh..."

The Queen of Heart's eyes go wide. "Shhh?! Tinkerer, hit that mute button of yours."

The Tinkerer is holding a rectangular device. "Indubitably," she says, pressing a button on it.

The orchestra music suddenly shuts off, making it seem eerily quiet in the aftermath. The crowd of dancing ballgoers groans disappointedly. That device must be one of her many inventions. A few days ago she had used the March Hare's watch to speed up the "place time" of Wonderland, causing technology to advance at an astounding rate.

The Queen glares at the Duchess. "I've made it quieter so you can hear me loud and clear. I've no intention of shhhing. You are just a Duchess—you don't shush me. You're lucky I didn't have you beheaded rather than merely shackled, jail bird."

The Duchess gulps and nods, looking meek.

The Queen says, "Now resume your game, whilst We chat with Alice here."

So the Duchess picks up the dice and rolls them with her hands shaking, and moves the little pewter piece that looks like her, complete with ball and chain.

Alice is peering at the board. "What is this game called? Why, looky, Hatter!" She points. "There is a square labeled "Grimm Game!" What happens when you land on it?"

The Hatter rolls his eyes, says, "Yes, I am quite capable of reading. As to what happens, ask the Tinkerer."

The Tinkerer says, "The game is something I created in order to meet my goal. I call it The Hunting of the Snark."

At the mention of the word, the Mad Hatter straightens up and looks about with mad eyes. "Snark?" He hisses through clenched teeth. "Where?!"

"Do you see it?" the Queen teases with a little laugh. "I know you keep looking."

The Hatter looks about for a few more seconds, even doing a little twirl, before giving up. "Yes, ever since I was resurrected I've been determined to find the Snark myself. I've studied up on it, trying to get inside its head, you see. Maybe a little too much, as some of the snarkiness seems to have rubbed off on me."

Alice intends to get to the bottom of how the Hatter was resurrected and what exactly a snark is and what is "snarkiness", but she only manages to utter, "How—" before the Tinkerer cuts her off, impatient at having the attention drawn from her.

She says, "Yes, the Hatter inspired me in the fashioning of my brilliant and endlessly entertaining game. It should become a household staple."

Alice leans over and peers down at the board with her fingertip pressed to her lips to be respectful to the Tinkerer. "What use is a household staple if there is only one? You could only staple one thing and then the game, as it were, would be over?" She reads some of the squares— Humpty, Tweedles, Tea Party, Troll's Riddle, Knight, Duchess & Cook. Duchess and Cook?!

"Yes," says the Tinkerer, "I construe the meaning of your joke. It's a pun, isn't it?" Her voice sounds as if she had just rolled her eyes prior to her utterance.

"Looky," Alice says while pointing. "Wait, joke what joke?"

The Tinkerer sighs. "Perhaps I give you too much credit. But I must be more forgiving if I am to think of you as a sister, as I might."

"Hmmm?" Alice says while still pointing, "Why, Hatter, that square has Tea Party on it. That's what you're known for. Pray tell, what happens when you land on it, do you know?"

The Hatter shrugs. "Perhaps I finally end the game by finding the Snark? I've been looking for it." Now he too peers down at the board. "Is there a square marked Snark?"

The Tinkerer says, "The nature of each square is top secret, known only to me. When one lands on the square, or any square, one will be given the directions and abide to the challenge of the square."

Alice, sounding puzzled says, "But once anyone lands on a square, the secret will be known. How can it be a staple in every household once all the secrets are known?"

The Queen of Hearts now says, sounding miffed, "Yes, and more importantly, why is there no square marked Queen of Hearts? Perhaps I should demand a square?"

The Tinkerer says, "Do not doubt me, for I am the Tinkerer. I anticipate all. I control all. Why, look at all the people at this ball wearing my cat collars, all the cards wearing my tiaras. I'm what is called a person of influence." She leans toward the Queen of Hearts and stage whispers, "And perhaps it's best you shan't go wanting for a square. Might be more trouble than it's worth, if you know what I mean."

"Very well," the Queen says, in an almost meek way.

Almost meek! What strange power does this Tinkerer have? I am awed and a bit afraid myself!

The Tinkerer says, "In the short time I've been here, my accomplishments have been great, my resurrections numerous, my influence unprecedented. Why, it was because of my fashion sense that everyone in the court now requires one of my glittering cat collars to be in fashion." She nudges her head at the Queen and Hatter. "Lest, one should come to be out of fashion." And here, she nudges her head at Alice, now the Cheshire Cat. "I mean, ewww. How could you even wear one of my cat collars, despite being a cat, since obviously you refuse to don a neck? I mean, what is that? How rude!"

The Cat says, "You'll forgive me I hope, for lately whenever I attach my body, it ends up being forcibly removed. And am I rude? I've looked over your board game, and I see no square marked Cheshire Cat. Why is that?"

The Tinkerer waves her hand dismissively. "Oh you shall find out soon enough. But first, I need to fill you in on my numerous accomplishments and inventions, so that you all may be suitably impressed. There are so many, I don't know where to begin." To Alice, she says, "Have you any ideas?"

"Yes," says Alice. "Did you revive the Hatter? This is the second time I've thought him dead when he wasn't." She pouts.

The Hatter crosses his arms and hrrmphs. With nose raised in air he says, "You might want to worry more about reviving your hair. It wants a cutting and conditioning."

The Queen of Hearts chuckles. "Good one."

The Tinkerer and Alice both roll their eyes at the same time.

The Tinkerer says, "Yes, after you paralyzed him from the neck down, I was able to figure a way to get him up and moving about, though the solution was less than ideal. However, it was less of a challenge than the Knight. Why, you snapped his neck as well, correct?"

"Yes," Alice says, "but he was asking for it. I saw him earlier, wearing some contraption on his head."

"Yes, he's out there somewhere. Well, after you turned his head completely around, I gave him a set of glasses with mirrors on the side so that he can see behind him, you see. It's just a temporary solution. Speaking of mirrors, I've invented a special coating that makes one-way mirrors, as well. That's what the cake dome is covered with."

Alice says, "It just looks like a regular cake cover."

"With a mirror surface..." says the Tinkerer.

"Yes..." Alice says, her brow crinkling. "And?"

"And with a one-way mirror, someone on one side can see through it as if it's glass, while someone on the other side only sees a mirrored surface."

"Oh! Is there someone tiny inside there, watching us, then? The Butterfly perhaps."

"No, silly, the Butterfly is over there." She points. "Surely, you can see him, as large as he is." The group turns to look at the large wingless butterfly against the far end of the room. Many of them gasp, Alice included, as the insect suddenly swells to twice its size!

The Tinkerer giggles. "Sorry, couldn't resist. I pressed the magnify button on my invention I call a remote control." She's holding up the rectangular box with all the buttons.

"How did you make him grow like that?" Alice asks.

"Yes, how?" says the Cat.

The Tinkerer says, "My dear, it is merely a visual trick. I developed a camera for the Caterpillar that magnifies his image and projects it against the wall there, so that he could participate in the ball, kind of, without feeling so tiny. Not the best solution, but it'll have to do. After all, I'm more interested in fixing his wingless problem."

Angrily, Alice says, "You'll give him wings?! But I cut his off!"

"Well, I will soon equip him with the ability to fly better than he would have with wings, but giving him a wing transplant is a possibility . Hmmm..." Her eyes roll up to the top of her head for several long seconds.

They watch her expectantly. The moment goes a little longer than comfortable.

The Tinkerer says, "Oh, I was thinking of the Knight and his neck, wondering if I could give him a neck transplant. No, I do much prefer my original regimen for his neck problem."

"Yes, well you never said what that was," Alice says.

"Oh? Didn't I? Well tomorrow he shall start his treatment. I've developed braces for his neck!"

"Like ones for teeth?" Alice says.

"Yes, quite like that actually. The brace will be connected to his neck, and slowly it will be turned a little bit, so that eventually, his head will be turned all the way back around again! Isn't it brilliant? And speaking of the devil, there he is. Hey Knighty poo!"

About twenty feet away, the Knight turns and looks afraid as his eyes rest upon Alice. He shakes his head.

The Tinkerer says to Alice, "Why don't you wave at him and see what happens."

Alice snarls. "I wouldn't like him to be around me again. I'm likely to snap his neck again for good measure."

"Oh, he won't come. He's quite terrified of you. Come on, wave. It might be funny..."

So Alice raises her arm up in the air and at the Knight, royal waves, which is a way of waving she has in which she holds her open hand pointing up while slowly rotating it back and forth.

The Knight shrieks and covers his eyes. His body, which is facing the other way, runs awkwardly away, to disappear amongst the crowd. Here and there his presence is made known by the jostled shoulders of those he's run into and the clanking of his armor.

"You see," says the Tinkerer, "ever since you snapped his neck, the poor chap has developed parthenophobia."

"Which is?"

"A paralyzing fear of little girls!" She raises her hands to cover her mouth as she unleashes a giggle explosion (figuratively).

Alice smirks and laughs, as do a few of the others.

The Hatter says, "And to think, some people are afraid of snakes. Bloke doesn't have his head screwed on right."

Alice says, "He right well should be afraid of me. And to think, he thought his piddly 'inventions' were better than yours!"

"Hardly," the Tinkerer says, with no doubt whatsoever. "I can do anything ten times better than him. I always succeed and never fail!" Her face screws up in utter little-girl determination.

"Well," mutters the Queen of Hearts, "there is the matter of..."

"Of what?" the Tinkerer says, barely managing to control her rage.

"Of Malice. You said you would bring her to me."

"Yes, well, I shall of course, I just haven't gotten around to it. I think you should increase your gratefulness and decrease your impatience. I mean, look at all I did for your rinky-dinky ballroom. I wired it so it could use electricity, thanks to the Red Queen," she gestures upward at the odd chandeliers without candles, "invented the light bulb and put them up there, hooked up the sound system to play phonograph records of music." She presses one of the buttons on her remote control. The sound of the orchestra blares for a few seconds before she mutes it again. "And this is how you thank me?!" Her face is turning red.

The Queen of Hearts looks thoroughly rebuked, hanging her clown face in shame. "My apologies, Your Royal Inventor, it's just that I so wish to behead Malice, because she coup d'etated me."

Malice, who is Alice's heartless twin/reflection and nemesis, had taken charge of Wonderland for a while, before the Queen of Hearts regained her throne. Alice isn't sure who of the two is worse.

The Tinkerer waves her hands. "Yes, yes, I know, I will get to it. I've had so many things to do, but I'll get to it."

The Queen of Hearts merely keeps her mouth shut and does the whirly hand motion with a bow that means Please, by all means, commence with what you were saying.

The Tinkerer commences, "Yes, where was I? So, I invented so many things. Fixed so many of the characters—the Knight, Flamingo, former-Caterpillar, Hatter of course, am I forgetting anyone?"

"Humpty Dumpty," Alice offers.

The Tinkerer's mouth turns down slightly in a smidgeon of a frown. "Oh, yes, him. Well, I've been working on a solution to that puzzle. An algorithm. But that shall wait till later. Anyone else?"

The Cat says, "The Jabberwock."

"Ah!" The Tinkerer squeals and claps in delight. "His fate shall remain a surprise to be revealed later! Speaking of surprises, I think it's time to reveal what is beneath this cover!"

The Queen now squeals. "My cake!"

With a grin, the Tinkerer says, "Mayhaps, mayhaps." She presses her palm to the handle of the cover. "Come, gather around, so that we shall all see." And with a dramatic lift she reveals what's beneath the cover.

Chapter 47 What's Beneath the Platter?

Underneath, is the severed head of a Jabberwock with blue and red wires sticking out of it here and there and leading through holes down into the lower part of the cart. He's wearing a leather headband adorned with sparkling red jewels. The decapitated head bulges its eyes, opens its mouth, and proclaims, "Ta da! I'm baaaack."

Alice lets loose a little eek of surprise. "He's alive! But I thought I killed him!"

"You did," says the Jabberwock. He wriggles his muzzle as if he wants to nod, but since he has no neck to nod with, he has to be content with just the muzzle wriggling.

"You did," the Tinkerer says, "but it turns out Jabberwock heads are remarkably resistant, and they take a long time to rot too. So since the Jabberwock's head was still fresh, I was delighted by the results of some experiments I tried. I was testing theories I had read about electro-stimulation. I hooked some wires into some key areas of his brain and zapped them using electricity I had stored in a battery, thanks to the Red Queen, and voila! He started blinking and talking, just as if he had never died in the first place. Unfortunately, his body didn't respond to the electro-stimulation. Well, it flopped around a bit like a headless chicken, but was really quite useless. But it doesn't matter, as I've been working on a replacement body for him."

Alice says, "But you fixed the Hatter when he was paralyzed. Could you not use the same method with perhaps a bit more stitching?"

"Oh, pish posh. What do you know? I'm a genius and you are not. Keep that in mind. So, in any case, now you see the usefulness of the one-way mirror coating I invented. Was it a good view, Jabberhead?"

He says, rolling his eyes toward her at the edge because he can't move his head, (no neck)—"Oh yes, quite. Like looking through clear glass, it was."

"Excellent. Good to know my test case was successful. But let us move on to the next festivities. I have a hard time sticking to one thing, in case you haven't noticed. We shall soon let her eat cake," with a side nudge of her head at the Queen of Hearts. "Are there any other of my amazing inventions and revivals I have left out?" She ponders a few moments.

Helpfully, Alice offers, "Humpty Dumpty. He even has his own square in your board game, I see. But I haven't seen him out and about around here. Surely you haven't put him together again...have you?" Both of her eyebrows she feels rising dramatically.

"Oh, no, he's still all broken up, the poor little guy. But it's on my to do list. I've been perfecting the algorithm."

Alice's face scrunches up in annoyed puzzlement. "Although...rhythm?"

"No no, algorithm. But let's save that for later. It's one of the many surprises I have planned, and segue!...speaking of surprises, the Queen of Hearts shall soon have her unbirthday cake, but first, pardon me for...elongating the suspense..."

Alice mutters to herself during the pause, "You use such big words for such a little girl."

The Tinkerer sniffs. "Well, yes, I'm only a genius. But you are the beautiful Queen Alice. I look up to you. You should not go bare necked during the rest of this ball so..." she tries to snap but fails. "Sorry, I need to practice my snapping." She claps. "Chop chop. Guard cards."

"Yes," the Queen of Hearts shouts. "Off with their heads!" She looks around, looking a bit dazed.

"Oh, no no, Queen. I was merely trying to get the cards to present her with—oh never mind..." She presses a button on her remote control. She says, "Guards, bring forth two cat collars of marvelousness." A guard card comes forth presenting sparkling collars.

The Tinkerer takes a collar in her hand and says, "These collars are so fashionable it hurts." She smirks, which Alice finds odd. "I present it to you Alice, so that you may not stand out from the crowd."

Alice squeals and claps in a blur, so excited to be a part of the cool crowd. She lifts the collar up, turns, and lets the guard card lock the clasp.

Everyone else in the little group who have hands clap as Alice preens.

"And now," says the Tinkerer, "I'm going to ask, though I can already predict the answer. Mr. Cheshire Cat, will you materialize your body so you may have a neck on which to don a cat collar?"

He says, "My apologies, little one, but bad things happen when I have a body. I respectfully decline."

The Tinkerer says, "Isn't it ironic that you're the only cat, and yet the only one not wearing a cat collar or head band?"

"I suppose it's ironic, yes."

"Never mind. As I said, I anticipated your response, and so I have prepared another honour for you. Guard card!" She snaps—this time she actually succeeds in snapping her fingers, though it could be louder. She looks pleased with herself for snapping.

A guard card rolls forth a trolley with a plate of shredded plant material on it.

The Cheshire Cat sniffs the air and proclaims, "Catnip!"

"That's right," says the Tinkerer, "Yes, please, help yourself! Partake in its exquisiteness!"

The Cheshire Cat merely says, "Yes," then the floating cat head seems to lunge at the plate, his tongue happily lapping at the curious confection known as catnip.

The Tinkerer says, "So now that you all have been sorted, let's commence with the rest shall we?"

Alice watches the Tinkerer press two buttons on her remote control.

Alice looks at her and is instantly wracked with searing pain through her whole body—the pain is most intense in the area around the collar. She screams, but that only makes the pain worse and within seconds, she realizes that any movements she makes will bring more pain, and so she does her best to remain perfectly still.

Alice hears and watches as all the others in the room shriek and seem to reach the same conclusion, including the Hatter, including the Queen of Hearts. The exceptions are the guard cards, who simply watch it all happen.

It's like a game of freeze tag, if freeze tag was enforced by a pain collar!

Out of the corner of her eye she is aware of the Cheshire Cat who now seems surrounded by a semi-transparent green dome of light. He is butting his head against it quite perturbedly, proclaiming, "I say, what is the meaning of this! It's witchcraft!"

The Tinkerer says, "No, Mr. Puss Puss, it's merely a little something I developed called a containment field. If my calculations were correct, you shall find yourself unable to pop in and out of places in that annoying manner you have."

The Cat smirks. "We'll see about that." But he doesn't disappear. Now he's scrunching his face up and grunting with effort. Still doesn't disappear.

The Tinkerer giggles. "See?"

"You little brat! Let me go this instant!"

"Oh, no no, you don't get to order me around. I need you contained in the field—it is a most astounding creation of mine, it keeps you from bending space in that manner you do. I figured out how you do it, and utilizing energy particles that spin in the opposite direction, I was able—"

The Queen of Hearts shouts, "Nerd! Shut up! You can't coup d'etat me!"

"Au contraire. You see, I just did."

The Queen of Heart's face screws up in rage. "Guard cards, seize her! Off with her head!" Her arm moves a little, but that causes her to scream in pain. She is panting, making sure to stay still.

The Tinkerer makes a condescending pout at the Queen of Hearts, now says, "They will no longer follow your orders. You see this button here?" She holds the remote control out. "When I press it, it activates the control tiaras."

"The tiaras control them?" the Queen says.

"Not exactly. See the guard cards have very simple brains. I was able to invent a device that controls the loyalty center of their brains. I disguised it in the tiaras. When I press this button, they all will follow my orders, and only mine."

There are gasps and muttering.

The Queen of Hearts says, "So you're taking over, is that it?"

"Well, I needed you all controlled, for the sake of the game."

"What game?" shouts Alice.

The Tinkerer glances at her. "Why, The Hunting of the Snark. Everything depends on what happens during it. But you shall see soon enough. But now it's time for a treat. I do believe I promised the Queen of Hearts cake?"

The Queen's eyes widen, her mouth twists. "I don't think I want my cake. Haven't had supper yet. Wouldn't be proper."

Again with the condescending pout. "But I promised. I feel I've promised you so many things that I haven't delivered. For example, I promised to bring you Malice and so I shall." She attempts to snap, but fails this time. A mild look of annoyance, then she says, "Bring on the cake!"

The tablecloth flutters and a lanky, thin girl rises up from under the table, and shouts, "Smushy in your face!" as the child, who looks exactly how Alice would look in a cat suit and mask, pushes a piece of chocolate cake into the shocked Queen of Heart's clown face. The girl smears it all about the white clown queen's face as she has to stand there and just take it.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Alice can't help but giggle a little.

The girl says, "Surprise! Unhappy unbirthday! The Tinkerer snuck me in under the table just for this moment. And now, with her help, I, Malice, shall be the new ruler of Wonderland! Ah, it's good to be Queen."

Alice watches as the Tinkerer pulls a tube from her dress pocket, presses it to her mouth and blows a dart into Malice's bottom.

"Eeek!" Malice shouts as she swats the dart away. She turns to look at the Tinkerer, glares, then her eyes roll upward, her head tilts backward and she collapses unconscious to the ground.

"Ha!" shouts the Queen of Hearts. "She gets what she deserves."

The Mad Hatter sniffs. "She had a short reign."

Alice sighs. "So why'd you go and do that, then?"

"Well, I needed her subdued for the sake of the game, which will commence shortly. You and Malice are to be opponents."

"Why? It's just a game, right?"

"Oh, no, Alice. It is everything. But you need only wait and you will see, but as of right now you can't. See, that is." She snaps, and grins proudly. "Now that was a proper snap! Guard cards! Blindfold Alice."

And one of the guard cards covers her eyes from behind, while a cloth slips over her mouth and she smells the all-too-familiar scent of formaldehyde.

Chapter 48 Start

Alice stretches and yawns. It is just another day—she must prepare herself for the long hours of being humiliated and hurt by the citizens of Wonderland. But wait, didn't I kill them all, or was that all a dream?

Blearily she opens her eyes.

Hey, this isn't my bed.

Now she remembers the Queen of Heart's ball. Or was that a dream too? Probably not, since I'm wearing my poofy black dress and high heels. She checks her neck—no collar there.

In a daze, she gazes around. She is lying on the hard ground—beneath her is a floor made of what looks to be pure blackness. Malice is lying a short distance away in her cat suit, either dead or asleep. She doesn't have a collar on either.

A pair of oversized dice lies in front of Alice. Beyond that she sees a perfectly straight line of glowing green in the floor, and beyond that, she sees the Tinkerer standing, watching her. On one side of her is the Cheshire Cat's head, floating unhappily in the floating semitransparent green sphere of the containment field. On the Tinkerer's other side is the Red Queen. (Who, by the way is not the Queen of Hearts and they would each be offended to ever be considered to be the other.) The Red Queen is doing her usual routine of constantly running in place, except there is now something different beneath her feet. It is some sort of contraption—it is as if the ground beneath her is moving, allowing her to stay in place—and the contraption has steel bars rising up to provide handlebars for the Red Queen to hold onto as she runs. A red beam of light shoots out from the bottom of the contraption into a clear crystal block on the ground.

And the Tinkerer and Cat and Red Queen are all standing (or running) on a floor of utter blackety black, that stretches forever. The surroundings are all black except...she looks around, except the glowing green lines that form a perfect square of about 15 feet by 15 feet around her. Alice notices there is a word on the ground in red lettering, but she can't read it from here.

The Tinkerer's voice booms, louder than Alice would have thought possible, as if her voice is amplified somehow, saying, "Do rouse Malice, won't you dear? You've been knocked out for a few hours from your perspective, but I've been using the March Hare's watch and it's literally been days and days for me. Of course, I've been inventing lots of things, but now, I've waited long enough."

"Why should I rouse her?" says Alice defiantly.

"Well, because let's get on with it, that's why. You know the containment field I used on your cat? Well, the green lines of the square you're in operate on a similar principle. The green lines mark the boundary for you. They mark where the force field is. It may look clear, but it is like clear glass, only much much more powerful, so you cannot cross the green lines. And Malice will either wake now or later. Let's not make this more difficult than it needs to be..."

Although there's a chance the Tinkerer is lying, Alice very much doubts it—the Tinkerer has created so many astounding inventions that she seems now quite in control of things.

I suppose I'll rouse Malice, because at least misery loves company, aye?

She crawls over and prods Malice with her fingertip. Now she notices the letters on the ground next to Malice spell, "tart".

Poke me again, and I'll snap your neck, Malice thinks. She hears Alice's voice saying, "Wake up, Malice, we've a predicament on our hands," and so Malice opens her eyes. She sees the black square with green edges, sees the dice, and the Tinkerer and Cat and running Red Queen outside the square.

Wobbily she stands and stretches and yawns. "Well, this is different."

Alice now sees the word on ground is actually "Start".

The voice of the Tinkerer booms, seeming to come from every direction at once. "So good of you to join us, Malice. Oops, let me adjust the volume. Okay, Malice, you'll be groggy for a while from the knockout juice, but that shall soon wear off. Another one of my inventions I created in my spare time. Now the blowgun on the other hand, wasn't my invention. I got the idea from adventure periodicals. It's rather simple for my tastes. But it's effective."

Malice shouts, "You knocked me out with a blowgun?"

The Tinkerer rolls her eyes. "You're sharp. About as sharp as a butterknife."

Malice makes a fist. "You know what else is sharp? My razorblade." She feels along the outside of her thigh.

The Tinkerer says, "It's not there. All your weapons have been taken away. I did let Alice keep the Thirteen of Heartless card, though. It may come in handy later."

Malice scowls. "How about I come over there and punch you in the face, you little squirt! Come on Alice, we can take turns punching her." She cracks her knuckles and begins walking toward the Tinkerer.

Behind her, Alice says, "Sounds like a jolly good show!" She too cracks her knuckles and follows behind.

But as Malice tries to step over the green line, she grunts as she slams into something solid, her masked face smushes against it as if it is glass and with a staticy sound a wall of green, semi-transparent energy flashes. It disappears as instantly as it appeared when Malice steps back. "Ah!" She rubs her nose. "What was that?"

The Tinkerer begins giggling. "Why it's like you just walked into a glass door! Ha! But, unluckily for you, you wouldn't be able to break through. It's a force field, similar to the one around the Cat—it's to keep you in your squares as you play the game."

"What game?" Alice shouts.

The Tinkerer seems preoccupied by something. "Hmm? Oh, The Hunting of the Snark, of course. You're on the start square. I say, that knuckle cracking noise you two made. Does it hurt?"

"Sometimes." Malice and Alice both say at the same time. They look at each other and scowl at each other.

While staring each other down.

Malice says out the side of her mouth while still staring at Alice, "But it never really hurts that much."

"Yes," Alice says, glaring deep into Malice's eyes, "the pain's over quick. Like a snapping of a neck." She narrows her eyes at Malice. "You probably wouldn't feel it at all."

"Now now," says the Tinkerer, "no killing your opponent. You'd forfeit the game. You wouldn't want that. Trust me." Her eyes roll up and her face scrunches up a bit as she seems to think. "You know, I think I shall try."

"Try what?" Malice says with a snarl.

The Tinkerer doesn't reply. Gingerly, she presses her fist into her other hand and tentatively presses.

Alice rolls her eyes. "You've got to do it quite harder than that."

Malice says, "Yes, much harder."

The Tinkerer presses her fist harder, but there is no sound. She tries her other fist. Still no sound. Her hands drop to her side and she frowns a little and looks at them with big sad eyes.

Malice suggests, "Perhaps if you punched yourself in the face, your knuckles might crack, then."

The Tinkerer lifts her hand and snaps her fingers. She beams proudly. "Can you do it?"

"What?" Malice says. "Punch you in the face?"

"No, snap your fingers."

Malice says, "Yes, but I would very much prefer to punch you repeatedly in the face, until you're bloody."

Alice adds, "And I would like to make a game of it and see if I could break every single bone in your face."

The Cheshire Cat joins in. "And I would like to chop off your head and stick it in this containment field."

The Tinkerer huffs and turns her head to the Red Queen. "How about you, Queen?"

"Don't interrupt me! Can't you see I'm running?!"

Malice says, "Can we just get on with this, then?"

Alice says, "Quite right. Tell us about this game of yours."

The Tinkerer's face screws up and she folds her arms. "Fine then. But you needn't be rude to the gamemaster, which is what I am. After all, I designed this whole game just for you two. You could at least be grateful."

Malice folds her arms in a mocking mimick. "Well, what, pray tell is the prize in this wonderful game of yours?"

Self-consciously, the Tinkerer lowers her arms. "That's a surprise. But it's a well and proper prize indeed. Would you like me to explain the game to you?"

Malice says, "Okay, but first might you explain why the Red Queen is running and the Cat is contained beside you?"

The Tinkerer giggles. "The Red Queen is running and running and staying in the same place. I designed a treadmill for her."

Malice scrunches her nose. "Treadmill?"

"It's a machine for exercising," the Tinkerer explains.

"And she must exercise here, pray tell why?"

Alice chimes in, "And where exactly are we anyway? Is this still Wonderland?"

The Tinkerer answers, "I need her here, because it's her running that makes all of this possible."

"How?" Alice asks.

"I've devised a means of transferring her kinetic energy into electric energy. I originally stored the electricity in batteries, but now I found out I can do much more. Now I convert her energy into a laser beam, which is a concentrated beam of light, and shoot it into the special prism. The light that comes out, I then reflect into the Looking Glass."

She points to the bottom front of the treadmill, where a red beam of light is shooting out into a small clear object about five feet away. The Looking Glass is nowhere to be seen.

She continues, "In other words, her running keeps all the lights on. Of course, I must be careful with the laser and make sure not to walk through it, or let your shadows fall upon it. Since you're Alice and Malice, your shadow is special and would disrupt the laser. Oh, why am I even bringing this up? Your shadow left you, anyway. So, you asked where we are. We are in Wonderland, yes, but we might as well be in an entirely different world of dreams, where reality can be shaped by the will of a creator, me. Watch." She presses a button and suddenly the black of the square transforms into an oversized replica of the Start square of the board game that the Duchess and Cook were playing in the middle of the ballroom. The floor is even now made of cardboard.

Malice and Alice gasp and look around, struck speechless. The green lines are still there on the edge and the area outside them is still pitch black.

The Tinkerer explains, "The square around you is like a square on the board game. Using a system that combines electricity and technology with the dream-energy of hosts, and the special reflection characteristics of the Looking Glass, I have been able to create what I like to call 'virtual reality'—it is an illusion really, but unlike an illusion, you can feel, hold, even smell the objects inside the square. The process taps into the same method the Cat uses of warping space using the form of physics peculiar to Wonderland. I like to call it nonsense energy. The Cheshire Cat didn't realize that's what he was doing. He merely wished to teleport himself, and poof!—he did. Of course, I couldn't have him popping in and out everywhere as he pleases. That would quite ruin the game don't you think? So I had to contain him." She tilts her head toward him.

The Cheshire Cat head looks woeful as he says, "I am imprisoned, having been charged of no crime."

The Tinkerer tsks. "He's quite a charming kitty. I thought I would borrow him for a while, as my little pet. It's too bad I can't pet him or anything, and he's a bit odd, because he refuses to show his body, but at least he can't scratch me. And he is absolutely, most definitely required to stay by my side."

He mutters, "Young miss, if it meant I could scratch your eyes out, I would gladly reveal my paws."

The Tinkerer shrugs in delight. "See? Isn't he most clever? Won't you purr for me, my kitty kitty?"

The Cat snarls. "Go to hell, brat."

"Now now, my pet. Sticks and stones..."

"You're just lucky I'm in this containment field."

The Tinkerer rolls her eyes. "Anyway, let me explain the game to you..."

Malice clasps her hands together in mock delight. "Oh, shall you?"

Alice laughs derisively in support, but her attention is taken away as she ponders the Red Queen, who continues to run and run atop her treadmill, whatever that is. Does she never grow tired? And why does she always insist on running? Some sort of compulsion perhaps? Or is it anorexia? A need to be skinny?

The Tinkerer says, "So the game is called, The Hunting of the Snark. The goal is to find the Snark, but I can't tell you how to do so. The board which you are on is comprised of squares. You will roll the dice to decide which square you land upon. Each square presents its own challenge, created by me. It shall be a marvelous contest, don't you agree, pitting one blackhearted girl against her heartless mirror reflection and seeing who is best suited and adaptable? There are prizes on the squares or you may also be rewarded with a certain amount of points—let's call them 'quids' for the sake of understanding, because you may have the opportunity to buy things with your points. I have personally designed each square and challenge. Using the virtual reality, all the settings and objects will be indistinguishable from reality. However, I can only use the virtual reality to create inanimate objects. So let me assure you, that everyone you meet shall be quite real. I have used various methods to persuade them to...participate. And that is all the instruction I shall provide. And I shall entertain no further questions."

Malice raises a finger and says, "I've a question..."

"Okay, fine. But this best be the last."

"Fine back at you. I can't help but wondering, seeing as how I'm about to become a playing piece in a board game...what, pray tell, exactly is the point of this?"

The Tinkerer answers, "It will all become clear in the end." She claps. "Now let the game commence! You shall each pick up a die and roll it, to see who goes first."

Malice and Alice both realize they have little choice, and they both realize the folly of attacking each other, but Malice the Heartless and Alice the Blackhearted can't resist taking verbal jabs at each other as they each pick up an oversized six-sided die.

"You," says Malice as she shakes the die, "are going to lose, and lose horribly."

Alice says, "I don't think so, cat girl."

"Nice outfit," Malice says sarcastically. "It would make a good funeral gown."

The Cat shouts, "Catfight!"

Alice rolls her eyes. "Whatever, heartless hussy."

"Blackhearted harlot."

"At least I have a heart."

Malice pouts a little. "You're not so great, you think you're so great."

The Tinkerer says, "Okay. Roll the dice already! And make sure it's a proper roll or I shall disqualify it. I'm the referee, savvy?"

Malice and Alice shoot hate-filled glares at each other, before Malice lifts the die above her head and with a shout hurls it with all her might towards the Tinkerer's head.

With a soft thud, the die hits the force field which flickers green with a staticy sound before going invisible again. The die bounces off and rolls along the ground.

The Tinkerer grins. They all peer at the die to see that it has landed on 4.

The Tinkerer says, "I like your enthusiasm. Okay, your turn Alice."

Alice sighs. "Come on, six!" She launches the die into the air by pushing it away from her chest. It hits the force field, rolls, lands on 5. She gnaws her lip. "So I shall go first. I don't know whether that's good or bad. How does this work? I see no other squares."

The Tinkerer, with a smile intones, "It works like this." She presses a button and Malice and the start square disappear.

Now Alice is standing on a small black square, outlined in green. A bunch of plain black squares lie ahead of her. They all have plain words on them—they are laid out in a big square like the board game. The Tinkerer and Cat and running queen are still there a short distance away.

"Roll the dice if you please," the Tinkerer says. The dice have shrunk to regular size.

Alice picks them up and rolls a 2, a snake eyes. That's usually bad luck.

The Tinkerer says, "Now simply hop forward two times. You see that square marked Troll's Riddle?"

"Like hopscotch?"

"Quite. When you land on the square you'll be able to see the virtual reality inside of it."

Alice prepares to ask where Malice is, but as she gestures with her arms, her hand hits a force field at the edge of the small square.

The Tinkerer explains, "I shrunk the square so you can hop. It's open on the front so that you can hop to the next square."

"Ah, I see. But where is Malice?"

"She's still here, but you just can't see her. And she can't see you. Neither of you will know what the other is up to unless you land on the same square. Now, won't you take your turn?"

"I doubt I have much choice." She mumbles, "But first," she removes her heels, puts them in her dress pocket. "I shall go barefoot. Well, here goes," and she hops forward past the square marked Humpty, onto the one marked Troll's Riddle. Ahead is a square marked Tea Party.

When she lands on the square marked Troll's Riddle it grows to a size of about 20 feet by 20 feet.

The virtual reality begins to kick in, sprouting and growing.

Chapter 49 The Troll's Riddle

The scene begins to fill in, inside the 20 foot by 20 foot square. First the outlines of objects appear, followed by the colors being filled in, as if this virtual proclivity, or whatever it's called, is one big colouring book.

So now she is standing on a square that shows a portion of grass-covered ground—of course it is just a small portion that fits in the square, outside of which the Tinkerer, Red Queen and Cheshire Cat are watching.

She sees the outline of a large man standing on her right. Next to its feet is a freshly dug grave with a wooden cross sticking out. She can't tell whose grave it is, though, since so many had recently died.

Why, he must be 20 feet tall. She takes a closer look as the details begin to fill in.

Why that looks like the combat mech I was in a few days ago!

Indeed it does—it's like a giant suit of armor made of metal and material called plastic. It holds a large pistol in one hand and a flamethrower in the other. But it has a deformed head, different than how she remembered.

Just a few days ago, Alice had been inside one that had looked just like this one from the neck down. She had stood inside the cockpit, which was in the stomach area of the combat mech. She'd worn a helmet that let her see from the combat mech's eyes, and she'd been connected by wires and sensors, so that each movement she made was copied by the machine. She'd used its flamethrower to tend a garden.

I wonder if this is the same one, and if someone's inside, she thinks as she glances at the stomach area, but the cockpit is closed and she can't see inside.

The combat mech isn't moving, and perhaps it would be best if it didn't.

The Tinkerer says, "It's your combat mech!" Once again her voice sounds amplified.

Alice keeps her eyes on the looming machine, wary for any signs of movement. Now that all the details have filled in, she can see that the head of the machine is in the form of an ugly troll's head—a metal one. She finds herself crouching down, despite herself. "Pray tell, what is the meaning?"

"I have designed each square to pose a challenge. And getting past the combat mech is your challenge. You must pass the test to get your prize." She points, and Alice now sees that behind the combat mech, resting on the ground in the grass, there is a treasure chest, just like the kind that gets sunken in pirate ships.

How silly!

Alice says, "What's in that, then?"

"Catnip!" the Cat shouts.

The Tinkerer says, "It's a secret my dear. First you have to pass the challenge."

Alice makes a show of looking dramatically about. "I say, is all of this real? Or is it the illusion...or...virtuousity?"

"Virtual reality," the Tinkerer corrects.

"Is the grave real? And whose is it?"

"It's a copy of the actual grave with the body of someone who I shan't reveal right now."

"Yes, or is it the...that...is the suit real?"

"You are not actually at the actual location. That is not actually the grave or the actual combat mech. They're both a fact simile."

"Fact simile?"

"Fat smilie!" the Cat shouts. The Tinkerer glowers at him and he cringes.

The Tinkerer says, "No, no. A facsimile. It's a copy. Like I said, all the inanimate objects inside the squares are illusions, with a few exceptions. But all the living beings are real. But I tried to make my facsimiles as close to real as possible, to limit confusion, and keep things fair. Well, sometimes I may have embellished things a little." She points at the troll head.

Alice is feeling quite annoyed by the Tinkerer, but she realizes she has little control of the situation. "I see," she says. "So let's not draw this out any longer. You say the inanimate objects are 'facsimiles', and all the living beings are real. But I see no living beings, but I can't see inside the cockpit of the combat mechy. So who's in there, and what's the challenge?" She puts her fist on her hip.

The Tinkerer shuts both eyes while grinning at Alice for several seconds. "There is someone inside the suit, who is a part of the challenge that you must overcome."

Alice, truly puzzled, cocks her head to the side. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

Alice says, "You closed your eyes for several seconds before speaking. Surely, you're too young to have a stroke..."

The Tinkerer's face scrunches up in a comically exaggerated manner. "I didn't blink. I winked—that's when you close one eye while keeping the other open, moron."

Alice laughs. "Yes, while I concur on your definition of a wink, that is most decidedly not what happened. You most assuredly did not wink. You blinked. And I do not bear false witness."

The Tinkerer says, "Shut your face!"

"I concur," says the Cat. "You did most definitely blink."

The Tinkerer scowls at him. "I thought I told you to limit your utterances." She presses a button.

The Cheshire Cat yelps in pain as a staticy sound and flash issues from his containment field. He mutters, "Still a blink..."

The Tinkerer harumphs and stamps her foot. "Still," she says, "winking is not so easy as some might imagine. I can hardly be faulted for failing in the endeavor, as young as I am." She turns to the Red Queen, who is still running. "I implore of you, can you wink? It's not so easy after all, what with your running at the same time..."

The Red Queen, who is still running, huffs, but makes the effort to wink and does so easily, followed by making a tchh sound click with her tongue.

"Oh, fiddle sticks," the Tinkerer mutters.

The Red Queen says, "There, I did it, now will you leave me alone? I'm running here! I'm trying to get somewhere!"

The Tinkerer makes a dramatic show of cupping her hands in front of her mouth to form a hand-megaphone. "You're going nowhere! Nowhere in a hurry!"

The Red Queen crosses her arms as she runs, an impressive feat. "Well, imagine if I didn't run. I imagine I'd end up going backward."

The Tinkerer stares at her, dumbfounded. "I say, you're quite unpleasant. You're only useful for your electricity. I'm done talking to you."

"The feeling's mutual, and you know, I would leave but your containment field is keeping me stuck on the treadmill."

"Yes, well, suck it up, and keep moving forward!"

The Red Queen hrmphs.

The Tinkerer smooths her dress and rocks back and forth upon the balls of her feet. "Ladies and gentlecat, the suit's function is to guard the treasure chest. It is armed with numerous deadly weapons. The suit has an occupant...whom you must defeat to get to the treasure chest. If you are killed—"

Alice gasps. "Killed?!"

"Yes, if you are killed or can't get past the guard within the seven minute time limit, you will fail the challenge, and you won't get the prize. And your turn will be over."

"Can a facsimile kill me?"

"Oh, yes. It can do a proper job of it too. I hope it doesn't happen though, because the game has barely begun. So, would you like to know who's inside, then?"

Alice mumbles, "It hardly seems fair. They've got a combat mech and I'm just a little girl."

"Behold! Inside the suit is..." She presses a button. The panel covering the stomach area of the suit slides up. "...the Jabberwock!"

Alice now sees the Jabberwock's head inside the open cockpit. The head is wearing goggles and is suspended by wires connected to various points of his scalp.

Alice says, "Well that's rather garish."

The Tinkerer says, "I think you mean ingenious. Come, I shall unfreeze him now." With a push of one of her buttons, the suit begins to move, slightly, looking about.

With dread, Alice waits for him to shoot or pummel her. But he doesn't even seem to notice her.

"He can't see you yet," the Tinkerer explains. "In the virtual reality, I control all that he sees, all that he hears, even what he smells." She beams. "Marvel at him. Isn't it amazing what I've done! I told you I would give him a body and I have. And now he can move around and shoot things."

"Yeah, but it's only a facsimile."

At this point the Cat chooses to interject, "He didn't invent bodylessness, you know."

The Tinkerer, ignoring him, says, "It may be a facsimile, but it's a replica of the actual suit in the nonvirtual reality, except for the head part. It works outside the virtual reality too, trust me. I've done my best to recreate everything in Wonderland in my game, with a few exceptions of course."

"So that's really the Jabberwock in there?" Alice says.

"Yes, yes, and as far as he's concerned he's back at his usual spot, guarding the chest, like I told him to, as payment for his new body."

"What of his old body?"

"That old thing? It's obsolete. It's buried—see the grave? Now, before I start the challenge and the countdown, I do have a clue for you."

"Of course you do."

"Er yes, and your clue is...

"To get past the floating jabberhead,

And win the chest that with prize is filled,

You must make him to the world be dead,

In a way in which he is not killed."

Alice says, "My, what a curious rhyme. How can he be made dead if he shan't be killed? Suicide perhaps. Hari kari again?"

The Tinkerer shrugs while smiling. "Oh, this shall be fun!" She presses a button and points at the air. Alice sees green numbers appear in the air that say 7:00, now 6:59...It's a countdown of the time she has, she realizes.

The troll head of the combat mech turns to look at Alice, and, inside the cockpit, the Jabberwock's mouth opens wide in joyous surprise. "Mother?" The amplified voice booms from speakers located in the suit's mouth.

Alice looks behind her, now points at herself questioningly.

"Yes, you. What are you doing here, Mum?"

Alice looks to the Tinkerer. "What's he talking about?"

The combat suit follows her gaze.

The Tinkerer answers, "I've modified the virtual reality to make you appear just like his mother in his eyes."

Alice smirks. "And now you've let him know. Does that forfeit this square?"

"Who are you talking to, Mummy?" the Jabberwock says.

"Silly little mama," the Tinkerer says, "he can't hear me or see me. He can hear you, though. But your voice is her voice, as far as he can tell."

"Mum?" the Jabberwock in a combat suit says.

Alice wonders why the Jabberwock doesn't notice she's smaller than his mother would be, but she realizes his sense of proportion might be off since he has a new, larger body.

Alice turns to look at him. She doesn't know whether to look at the Jabberwock head in the cockpit or the machine's head. She chooses the machine head. "Yes, dear?" She smiles.

"What are you doing here? You came to visit me, right? Because I hope you didn't come to get the treasure. I'm guarding it."

I have to play it careful here. "Well, what if I did come here for the treasure?"

"Well then, I'd have to kill you if you tried to get it, even though you're my mother. I promised to guard the treasure for the Tinkerer, because I owe her for giving me a new body."

Maybe it's not worth risking my life to get the prize. "What is the treasure anyway?"

The mech suit shrugs. "I don't know. I just have to guard it. I've been guarding it and guarding it without sleeping. I'm so tired." At the mention of his tiredness his eyelids droop sleepily. "Oh, how I've missed you. Don't let me fall asleep, okay?"

I wish you would fall asleep, that way I could get past you to the treasure.

Alice glances at the suit's weapons. She has no idea how she'll be able to defeat the Jabberwock without any weapons of her own. "Why don't you just go to sleep, then I'll keep watch. I'll wake you up in a few minutes okay?"

"Uh, sorry Mummy, the Tinkerer specifically told me I can't sleep. I can't stop guarding the treasure until I am relieved of duty, not even for you, Mum."

Alice rubs her chin and tries to think it through. This square is a puzzle to be worked through. Perhaps the Jabberwock himself has given me a clue. The Tinkerer made me appear like the Jabberwock's mother. But why? Maybe the Jabberwock is bluffing and wouldn't harm or stop his mother from simply running and grabbing the treasure. But no, that hardly seems a satisfying solution of the clever sorts of puzzles the Tinkerer is fond of. She watches as the Jabberwock head yawns. The suit's metallic troll head mimics him but the suit doesn't really have a mouth, though.

"Cover your mouth," Alice scolds.

"Sorry Mummy." And the mech suit covers the mouth it doesn't really have.

Alice taps her chin with her index finger. And what of the clue—I must make him dead to the world, but not killed. She watches the Jabberwock yawn again, this time his suit covers his mouth. He says, "Mum?"

That's it! If he falls asleep, he'll be dead to the world, but he won't be killed!

Alice says, "Would it really be so terrible for you to sleep a little while? I'll guard the treasure for you."

"Yes, it would be terrible. Whenever I sleep, my suit shuts off, so I don't go destroying things in my sleep. Even the automatic weaponry shuts off."

"Automatic weaponry?"

"Yes, think of it as like a reflex. If you were to suddenly run toward the treasure for instance, my gun would automatically lock onto you and fire, or say, if you tried to hop into the cockpit and kill me, the combat mech might punch you or maybe even self destruct."

"Self destruct?"

"Yes, an explosion of the suit's nuclear generator that would kill us both. Any act of aggression might set it off. So watch yourself. I should have warned you earlier. Be gentle." He chuckles. The suit holds its arm over its belly while Jabberhead and Trollhead laugh. "Sorry, I'm a bit loopy from the lack of sleep."

Alice snaps her fingers. I've figured out why the Tinkerer made me look like his mother! Mustering up a stern voice, which for some reason she thinks must be made low, she says in the deepest low voice she can muster, "Jabberwock, my son, I order you to go to sleep this instant. For I am your mother, you see."

The Jabberwock chuckles. "Oh, Mummy, you know that never worked. That's why you always did the other things..."

"What other things?"

"Oh, come now, don't tease. You know, the kiss and the song, the bedtime stories about eating people."

"Oh, yes, that's right." Anxiously she looks at the countdown numbers. 4:11.

Alice thinks now of her own mother, of being tucked in, kissed goodnight—and how that would put her to sleep. Perhaps that's it! If I am gentle, the suit's automatic systems won't be activated. Giving him a slap or strangle might bring an explosion. Running for the treasure could fill me with bullets.

But a good night kiss?

It would hardly be a kiss of death, though it just might well make him dead to the world.

She doesn't have much time. "Lower your suit thingy. I want to get a closer look at you."

"Why?"

For a moment, Alice is at a loss for words, but now, she recalls her own mother's behavior, and shouts, "Because I said so, Jabberwock!"

He hesitates, as if he's a child deciding whether to defy his mother. "Very well," he says.

The mech suit kneels, its knees churning into the grass.

I must sooth him to sleep. Take advantage of a child's obedience to his mother, a child who is afraid to disobey.

She peers. "My, what a lovely cockpit."

"Yes, it provides me control of my new, superior mechanical body."

"Yes, so you have a new toy, is that it? But what of your dear old Mum, who raised you, who spent 26 hours in labor."

"26? I thought it was 12."

"Silence!"

"Sorry."

"Have you no respect? I suppose you don't care about me anymore. I, um, changed your diapers, right?"

"Yeah."

"I tucked you in at night?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah? Yeah?! I don't think you even remember. Tell me, um, what did I do, at night, you know, after tucking you in, to make you go to sleep? I bet you don't even remember!"

The Jabberwock head pouts—she can't see if the the machine troll head tries to mimick him. "Of course I remember!"

"So tell me, then. I want to hear it from your lips." She puts on a stern face.

The Jabberwock's face looks meek. He doesn't draw his head back as he seems to want to, though. "Don't you remember? I would always have trouble going to sleep, and you would warn me that if I didn't, then you wouldn't give me how-to-kill-little-girl lessons the next day. But if I did go to sleep, then in the morning we could have little girl barbecue ribs for break-her-ribs-fast. But if I still couldn't go to sleep, you would do it, remember?"

Alice tries to play along and sound convincing. "Of course I remember, the thing that would make you fall asleep in..."—she looks up to see 3:03—"three minutes? What did we use to call it?"

He pouts. "The little-girl's-goodbyes. Don't you remember? They would put me to sleep every time!"

Alice chuckles. "Oh, yeah, that's right." While this whole time she has no idea what he's talking about. Little-girl's-goodbyes?

"Yes, I loved your songs so much, Mummy. I'd ask you to sing one right now, but I'd probably go to sleep!"

Alice gasps, because it suddenly clicks in her mind. Little-girl's-goodbyes sounds like lullabies! His mum would sing to him about that? Her stomach lurches a little. She tries to keep smiling, but she feels it's a bit plastered on her face. She suddenly wonders what she looks like through the Jabberwock's eyes.

The Jabberwock continues, "Speaking of little girls, I was recently decapitated by the little girl Alice. Oh, I would very much like to hear a song about her dismemberment and killing, that's for sure. But no, I'm on duty. Promise you'll do it when I'm not on duty, Mum? For old time's sake."

Alice groans inwardly. He deserves to have his head cut from those wires for how he just talked about me. But...no, I must try to pass this challenge! That's the more important matter.

She looks at the clock. Two minutes left!

Her eyes ping from side to side. "How about a lullaby about killing evil doers or nobility. Or the Queen of Hearts even! Would you like that?"

His face screws up. "No, I wouldn't. Did you not hear me?! I was quite recently decapitated by Alice. Decapitated! If there is any time more fitting for a little-girl's-goodbye, I don't know when it is, but wait, what am I talking about? I'm on duty!"

As Alice glances again at the glowing numbers, she is aware that her time is limited, but still she lashes out for alternatives.

She says, "I find this machine fascinating. Why, if someone were to try to kill you or poke out your eyes?"

"The automatic defense system of the machine would make swift work of them, and if I were killed, the suit is set to auto destruct with an explosion."

Alice imagines grabbing the Jabberwock head and running off, carrying it like in a game of rugby. "What if someone grabbed your head and tore it from those wires and ran off?"

"It would be interpreted as death. Big explosion."

Alice sighs. "What if you went to sleep?"

"When I sleep, the machine sleeps, unfortunately. That's why I have to stay awake."

Alice scowls and glares at the Tinkerer. You set this up! Alice knows the Tinkerer probably can't read her mind, but nonetheless, the Tinkerer winks back.

She sees she has one and a half minutes left! She has no time to play around anymore if she wants to win the prize, whatever it is.

The Jabberwock's eyes have taken on a faraway dreamy expression. "Remember how you would do it? You'd tuck me in and sing the little-girl's-goodbyes and then kiss my forehead and boop! I'd fall right to sleep. You, remember, huh? Do ya?" His eyes droop a little. "Oh, I wish—but no, must stay awake."

The clock is literally ticking, and Alice is frantically searching her mind for any lullabies about killing little girls—the closest she can come is, "Rock-a-bye Baby", about babies dropping from trees. Hmmm. There's "Ring Around the Rosie", but that's not a lullaby is it?

Outside the square, the Tinkerer taps an imaginary wristwatch. Alice's black black heart is pounding hard in her chest. "Quick, what are the lyrics of your favorite little-girl's-goodbye?"

He grins and winks. "Come on, don't tease me. You've teased me enough already. Okay, I get it, I haven't visited you in so long you've forgotten everything, yeah yeah I get it."

Alice groans. I don't have time for this. She hops and scrambles into the cockpit. She begins cooing while smiling soothingly. She moves closer to the Jabberwock head, which says, "What are you doing, Mummy?"

"I'm gonna sing you a new song. About killing Alice. Would you like that?"

"Oh, yes, yes." He doesn't nod, because he can't. "I mean, no, Mummy! I can't fall asleep." He doesn't shake his head.

"Young Jabberwock! You shall do as I say, because I am your mother! Now I shall sing you a new song and you will listen, and not interrupt."

He cringes. "Yes, Mum, but I won't go to sleep. I'm sorry, I just can't. I promised."

Alice softly caresses the Jabberwock's cheek with the back of her hand, while trying to think up some lyrics. His cheek feels very smooth and cold. "There, there, shhh... Errr..." She awkwardly tries to sit him in her lap by getting beneath him and raising one leg and manages that for a few seconds before going into a crouch. She pretends to tuck him in.

And now she starts to sing while gazing deep into his eyes.

And now she sings.

Rock-a-bye Alice, swinging from a noose.

When the wind blows, the knot will come loose.

When the knot slips, her body will fall,

And down will come Alice, black heart and all.

The Jabberwock sighs with a goofy grin—his eyelids droop. Alice kisses the cold flesh of his forehead. His eyes close completely, as Alice's heart shudders and twitches in protest of the kiss.

Alice doesn't waste time. She hops from the cockpit onto the ground and runs to the treasure chest. She tries to fling open the lid, but it's locked.

The Tinkerer shouts, "Congratulations! You passed the challenge!"

Alice looks up to see that the clock has stopped at 16 seconds.

The green grass beneath her feet promptly disappears, and is replaced by pure black. All that's left in the square is the treasure chest and the word Troll's Riddle on the ground.

Alice puts her hand on her hip. "Hey, how do I unlock this thing?" she says, as she notices a strange warm twitching sensation in her chest she had been too excited to notice before.

The Tinkerer says, "Bear with me, I am inspired. Listen now, to the chronicle of your adventure—my poem I call,

~*Jabberwonky*~

'Twas realish and the virty tech,

Did shimmering, appear,

All trolly was the techy mech,

With tummy-head, so queer.

Beware the Jabberhead, my girl!

The guns that shoot, the flames that flare.

Beware lest 'lectric jolts unfurl,

And launch you through the air!

Beware the booby traps attached,

If you touch him the wrong way,

For more deadly than a bandersnatch,

Are nukes that blast and flay.

She took the Jabberhead in lap,

Not ready yet, to die.

And caused the head to take a nap,

With tuck and lullaby.

And so beauty put the beast to bed,

And thus did pass the test,

The sleeping head, to the world is dead,

The prize waits in the chest.

Alice bows. "Well, thank you for that. I feel quite epic! Might I open the treasure chest now?"

"You're welcome, and certainly." She presses a button.

Alice opens the chest and peers at a metallic object on the bottom—it's a metal heart shaped like a cartoon heart with a knob on the side for winding it, like on a watch.

Alice notices that her own heart is racing and feels odd—quivery—she feels a little dizzy. She presses her hand to her chest to feel her heart twitching and spasming, but at least it's still beating. Her chest feels warm to the touch, which is odd, but she puts it out of her mind. It must be all the excitement.

Alice looks to the Tinkerer, says, "What is it?"

"It's one of my inventions. I call it the Ticktock Heart. Speaking of hearts, how's yours feeling?"

She says, "It's feeling a bit odd, actually. Did you do this?"

The Tinkerer lifts her hand to her chin and rubs it, mutters under her breath, "Curious." But since her voice is amplified, it is loud and clear.

Now Alice's face scrunches up. "You did this!"

"Hmm?" She glances up from the ground. "Oh, yes, quite so. I know that your heart had gone completely black and you would have loved nothing more than to kill the Jabberwock all over again..."

"Yes, but your silly game prevented it."

"Yes. I arranged the game to make you do something against your blackhearted nature. You had to be warm and soothing to win. I like how you cooed."

Alice's scowl deepens.

The Tinkerer says, "So what you're feeling must be your heart's reaction."

Alice crosses her arms. "It's like I'm allergic to kindness!"

The Tinkerer chuckles. "I wonder if it's fatal?"

"If I could get to you right now, it'd be fatal...for you."

"Yes well, too bad I control the game, isn't it?"

Alice's heart has gone back to normal. "Well, my heart feels okay now, no thanks to you."

"Yes well, now you have won the Ticktock Heart. I assure you, it's not one of the illusions. It's the real thing. Would you like to exchange it with your organic heart?"

"Could I do that?"

"Well, yes, I believe so—we are in Wonderland after all, but you'd have to use that card of yours, but you need someone else to play the card game with or you can't make it work, right?"

Alice nods. "That's right. And I'd also need a hat."

In mock pity, the Tinkerer says, "Oh, too bad."

"And I think I couldn't be bothered to wind it."

"Oh, you need only wind it in the beginning. After that, it winds itself, using the movements of your body, you see. Self-winding gears—one of my inventions."

"But why would I want a ticktock heart anyway? What would it do for me?"

She rubs her chin. "I haven't tested it yet, but I designed it to not only be a heart, but to provide enhanced computational capacity to the brain."

"Huh?"

"It would make you more intelligent, like having an extra brain. I theorize it would make someone less emotional and more analytical and precise, like a machine."

Alice puts her fist on her side. "Well, why the heavens would I want that?"

She shrugs. "Well, maybe the heart you have now is faulty. You said so yourself."

"But at least I'm not a nerd like you. Do you have a ticktock heart?"

"I don't believe so, but as I've never seen it, it's theoretically possible. Perhaps if I used the x-ray monocle..." She's muttering to herself.

"What monocle?"

She looks up from the ground. "What? Oh. Never mind. Enough of this. Your turn is over. Time for me to attend to Malice."

And pressing her remote control, she disappears, leaving Alice alone in the plain black square labeled "Troll's Riddle".

Chapter 50 A Grimm Game

"Whoo!" says the Tinkerer as she and Red Queen and Cat suddenly appear outside the Start square. "Wasn't that last square exciting! It would make a right and proper chapter of a book, it would!"

Malice rolls her eyes. "Well you better be quicker next time—I shan't be kept waiting."

The Tinkerer snarls. "You are in no position to make demands. However, you may roll the dice, if you please."

Malice crosses her arms. "Hrrrmph. And what if I don't please."

"Well, then you shall forfeit your turn. Eventually you would likely lose. Come now, don't be defiant. Just roll the dice, love?"

"Bah, don't call me love. I hate that word."

"Interesting."

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Go on then." She waggles her hand at the dice.

Malice gives forth a dramatic sigh before bending to pick up the dice and tossing them forward.

She rolls a 3 and a 4 for a total of 7. The square she's standing on goes completely black with a glowing green edge, now it shrinks to the size of a hopscotch square, and squares appear in front of her, all with labels. She hops forward 7 times—past Humpty, past Troll's Riddle, Tea Party, takes a right turn, goes past Groundhog, Shadow, and Butterfly then takes a right turn onto the square marked, "Grimm Game". As she lands, the square expands again to a square about fifteen feet on each side. Colours and shapes begin to fill in. She sees three humanoid creatures sitting on what look to be stools in front of her. The Tinkerer and companions are on her right.

She can't tell who the three guys are, because the details aren't filled in, but as the seconds pass, the details become clearer.

She is inside a pub. Well, partially—the inside of the room, with its tables and bar—table, extends only to the edge of the square.

Sitting on the three bar stools in front of the bar are three cute teenage boys—they all look between 17 to 19 years old. They seem not to notice her—are looking right through her.

Malice says, "This is a most curious pub."

"Why do you say that?" the Tinkerer asks.

She sweeps her hands about. "It hasn't any walls."

"Yes, well it's a virtual pub."

"And," Malice adds, "it hasn't many customers. No surprise, considering its lack of walls." She points at the three guys. They have similar features. Perhaps they are brothers, she thinks. Again, they don't seem to notice her—they look bored, even.

And Malice knows it's impolite to point, but she's trying to get some sort of rise out of them, so she waggles her finger and says, "Nuh uh uh," as if chastising them. Still no response.

The Tinkerer explains, "They can't hear. I control all that they see and hear within the virtual reality, so I've decided to make them not see or hear us for the moment, so that we may speak freely before the challenge of the square." She giggles. "Think of it as if they are in a sound proof booth before the commencement of a television dating game."

Malice places her hand on her hip. "Isn't that anachronistic?"

"Not at all, love. Place-time has jumped forward in Wonderland."

"I told you I don't like that word."

"I know. I did it on purpose, because it is what this square concerns itself with." She sticks her tongue out at Malice.

"Love?! Phooey! And why may I ask, did you virtually realitize me in a bar? You know, me mum would never allow it."

"I know, and that's exactly a good reason to do it! Don't worry, I'll keep your secret from her." She winks.

Malice screams in exasperation while lifting crinkly claw hands up. "Argh! I cannot stand!... You!"

"I know."

"I wish I could wring your little neck." She makes a pantomime of choking a neck.

"I should like to see it," the Cat adds.

The Tinkerer says, "Yes, well, that's not gonna happen, so let's focus back on the game."

Malice tries the silent treatment, crosses her arms and looks away.

The Tinkerer says, "Those three boys are the Brothers Grimm..."

Malice can't help but raise her eyebrow and peek at them for a few seconds, but quickly goes back to ignoring—with her nose raised in the air.

The Tinkerer says, "I know what you're thinking. Yes, they are the very same brothers behind the fairy tales. And yes, they are much younger than you'd expect them to be. Well, it's complicated, but they managed to open up a portal and ended up in Wonderland, where they ended up falling in love with a girl very much like you."

Malice decides to give up the ignoring routine, but keeps her arms folded as she looks at the Tinkerer. "Must you keep mentioning the word?"

"What, 'love'?" Her eyes crinkle as she smirks.

Malice unfolds her arms. "That's the one."

"Well, yes, I must, if I am to present your challenge."

"Which is?"

"All in time. First, I'd like to present the prize. And I assure you, it's the real thing, not a facsimile..." She presses a button on the remote, and a circle opens in the floor in front of Malice. A pedestal slides up with a metal object on top of it.

Looking down at it, Malice sees that it is a black metal gauntlet like from a suit of armor, adorned with glittering red heart-shaped rubies and inscribed with ornamental engravings and an odd, repeating symbol. It is smaller than for a full grown man—it might fit a child. It actually looks as if made for a girl, but what girl would be allowed to own and wear such a thing? It wouldn't be proper.

"Behold!" the Tinkerer proclaims. "The Vorpal Fist!"

"Vorpal? Like the Jabberwock's sword?"

"Quite."

"What is that symbol?" she asks as she leans in for a closer look. The symbol, repeated numerous times on the fist, looks like a broken heart inside a circle with horns on top.

"It is a corruptagram, which symbolizes a girl's wicked heart, which is appropriate, for it was a girl who donned it long ago."

"A girl?"

"Yes, a girl they came to call, 'the girl who will tear your heart out and show it to you before you die'!"

"Ewww! And second, that's a rather long name. Did she have one shorter?"

"Yes, but I'll leave that out."

"Why?"

"It would complicate things. Now, as to the Vorpal Fist—"

"Where's the rest of it?"

"What do you mean?"

"There's no suit of armor? That's what I thought when I first saw it."

In a chiding tone, the Tinkerer says, "Noooo...there's no suit. It's not meant to be armor. It's meant to be a weapon."

"Oooh. A weapon." Malice nods and her eyes go wide with wonder.

The Tinkerer nods back. "Yes, it was forged in ancient times by no one knows who. Soooo... anywhoo... it is a powerful weapon with a special power. Some say that it was forged with metal mixed with the crushed hearts and tears of the heartbroken, and when it is donned..."

"Yes?" Malice realizes that she is standing on her tippy-toes, and goes flat-footed.

"Like the girl in the past, when you put it on, it seeks out the hearts of others, tears it from their chests and kills them."

Malice gasps. "That's so amazing."

"Yes, it is a nearly irresistible weapon, but..."

"But what?"

"But it can only seek out and tear out the hearts of those who still hold love in their heart for the person wearing it."

"Oh, wow. How cruel." A wicked grin creeps up Malice's face.

"Yes, it is indeed, and that girl I spoke of, she used this weapon on the three brothers and upon many others, which is how she came to be called..."

They both take a deep breath, now they speak together the name in reverential recital:

Quoth the Tinkerer:

"The Girl Who Will Tear Your Heart Out And Show it To You Before You Die!"

Quoth Malice:

"The Girl Who Will Rip Your Heart Out and Shake It at You Before Smushing in Your Face. Then You Die!"

The Tinkerer arches a brow. "You were a bit off, but it was your first time."

Malice shrugs. "I took poetic license. Wonderland is supposed to be poetic right? So how do I win this woesome weapon?!"

"It's simple. You must figure out which of the three Brothers Grimm still loves you and use the Vorpal Fist to tear out his heart."

Malice murmurs, "And smush it in their face like cake before they die. Wait, what do you mean," she makes air quotes with her fingers, "still loves me?"

The Tinkerer nods. "That's right. One of them still possesses a heart filled with love for you."

"But I've never met them before."

The Cat adds, "And plus, you're too young for boys."

The Tinkerer ignores him. "Yes, you think you've never met before, but in a way, you have, because I can control the virtual reality."

"So, what, you wiped out my memory of meeting them?"

"No, no, you haven't met them yet. But, no, what I mean, is that I control their perceptions, and when I turn on their vision and hearing of you, you will look and sound exactly like that girl they remember from the past—the girl that all three brothers fell in love with and fought over. But only one of them still truly loves her, because only one still has a heart. The other two are heartless."

"Curious. Tell me, who exactly are these three brothers anyway? I thought there were only two Brothers Grimm."

"Only two famous ones."

"Well, regardless, I've never heard of them being in Wonderland..."

"That's because they've been locked away in the Queen of Heart's dungeons for unleashing troublesome fairy tale characters. They are actually very powerful and important blokes, tied into the fairy tale magic of old. But none of that pertains to the challenge of the square right now. The important part is this: when the Queen of Hearts was coup d'etated, I went through her things, such as her collection of hearts, and her dungeon of prisoners. That's where I found the Red Queen."

The Tinkerer points at the running Queen before continuing, "I also found the three Grimm brothers in the dungeon, still alive, but all three were heartless—that girl that they all loved had torn all their hearts out. And they died for it, but were revived. But let's keep the story simple. Amongst the Queen's collection of hearts, I found two hearts of interest. One heart was Humpty's and there was another one that was clearly labeled. It was one of the brother's hearts, that had been ripped from his chest by the girl and her Vorpal Fist. The heart was still red. How it came to be in the Queen of Heart's collection, I am not privy to know, but I do know that I was delighted at the puzzle it presented to me. As you may well know, I have a long standing interest in medical procedures."

Malice nods, because it seems the appropriate thing to do, despite the fact she has no idea what the Tinkerer is going on about.

"Well, using my massive knowledge combined with my unmatched inventiveness, I was able to perform a heart implant procedure. If you were to look at his chest, you would see the fresh stitches!"

"Oh, my!" Malice exclaims. "I would have just used Alice's card."

"Yes, well, that wasn't available. And besides, I rather prefer to be challenged. Using a simple card is, well, it's like cheating."

"If you say so. So do I get to use the Vorpal Fist to rip out his heart?"

"Perhaps. I thought it would be fun to make a bit of a game of it. A bit of a challenge."

Malice sighs. "I apparently don't enjoy challenges as much as you do. Can't you just give it to me?"

The Tinkerer pouts. "Well, what would be the fun in that? No, you will play my game. The three brothers are playing a game too. They believe that you are the girl they loved. You will look and sound like her to them, and their challenge is to convince you that they love you."

"But two of them are heartless."

The Tinkerer rolls her eyes. "Yes, you grasp the obvious notions of the game. Two of them do not love you. But the brother with the heart implant does. Your challenge is to figure out which one truly loves you, within the time limit, and pluck his heart out. Do that, and the fist is yours..."

"As much as I find that thought appealing, I can't help but wonder why the brother with the heart would want to win the game and convince me of his love."

"Well, he tells me his heart aches and yearns. He wishes only to express to you his undying love and then to give you his heart and enter the sweet oblivion of heartlessness where he no longer feels the pain of his unrequited love for you. Those were his words, not mine. Rather poetic and tragic, don't you think?"

Malice huffs. "More like pathetic. Why anyone would want a heart is beyond me." But in actuality she is intrigued by the concept. What is it like to feel love?

The Tinkerer fixes her with an appraising one-eyed-squint. "It has its perks. You might try it sometime."

Malice feels uncomfortable and changes the subject. "So what's in it for the other two boys—why are they trying to woo?"

The Tinkerer says, "I have promised them prizes if they convince you. Now, we've wasted enough time. Poor Alice is awaiting her turn. So here we go. I control each boy's senses. They cannot see or hear what the other brothers say. They have each prepared a short speech. You are to ask of each of them, 'If we were together, how would I know you love me?'"

Malice crosses her arms and says, "And if I don't?"

"Arggh! Please don't be difficult. Just do it, okay?!"

"Fine."

"Jolly good. Now, afterward, you shall make your choice as to who you think truly loves you, don the Vorpal Fist and see if it works."

Malice nods vacantly. Which of them loves me? Nobody loves me for real. I wonder, what is it like?

The Tinkerer interrupts her thoughts. "Ready?"

Malice nods. "Quite. Let's get on with it. I want to rip one of these cute boy's heart out. Oh, but I should make myself presentable." She struggles a few moments taking her mask off.

The Cat is laughing to mock her. He had recently given her claw scratches on her face, going from her temple to across her eyes. Of course, Malice can't tell how bad they look because she has no reflection in mirrors.

Malice says, "Will he mind the scratches? Will he still love me?"

"Um, they won't see your face. You'll look like the other girl, remember?"

Malice sighs. "He won't love me for who I really am."

"Absolutely not. So let's meet our first contestant, Brother A!" She points at the back of one of the boys.

Music plays, and his eyes widen. With a thick German accent, he says, "Girl, I've missed you! Wow, you're so pretty!"

"Thank you."

To Malice, the Tinkerer says, "Now say your line sweety."

Malice clears her throat, says, "If we were together, how would I know you love me?"

He bites his lip seductively and begins gesturing. "Girl, listen up, if we were together, I'd buy so many things for you, whatever you want, baby. You like gold? Or silver? Whatever you want. Diamonds. Rubies. I'll get it all for you."

Malice's face lights up in delight at the thought of it. "Ooh! That sounds wonderful."

"Time's up," the Tinkerer says, pressing a button, and the brother looks about, says something but is muted. "Next contestant, Brother B," the Tinkerer says. Presses a button.

The second boy looks at her. He, too, has a German accent as he says, "Hello again, darling. Oh, I've missed you so!" He begins to cry.

Did he rub something in his eyes to make himself cry? Or maybe he's the one with the heart! Or, is it a trick?

Malice says, "If we were together, how would I know you love me?"

"Because I would make time to spend with you, listen to you and care for you as best I could. Do my best to be respectful—wouldn't yell, and stuff like that."

What a sap.

"Time's up," adds the Tinkerer and with the press of a button, he goes silent.

"Thank goodness for that," Malice says. "Why would anyone reveal themselves to be so weak? Unless...he must have been really trying to trick me."

The Tinkerer says, "Brother C!" Press of button.

This guy says, "Hey you sexy thing."

Malice giggles, but then feels offended, pressing her hand to her chest in shock. "I'm 13."

The guy says, "Huh?" Now he smirks. "Not the last time I checked."

The Tinkerer uses one of her virtual reality tricks to whisper in Malice's ear, "He sees you as an 18-year-old."

"Oh," Malice says, feeling a little embarrassed. She knows the clock is still ticking, so she says, "If we were together, how would I know you love me?"

He sends her an air kiss and with smoldering eyes, says, "Girl, if you were mine, you'd see how jealous I'd get. I wouldn't be able to stand the thought of guys looking at how hot you are, wanting to be with you." He grimaces. "Why, I'd fight any guy who tried to come on to you, because I'd want you to be mine forever. That's how you'd know I love you."

"Well, I hope you mean it."

The guy nods and pounds his fist in his hand and speaks, but his volume has been cut off. But from reading his lips he's saying something about beating guys up who look at her.

The Tinkerer says, "Make your choice. You've got twenty seconds."

Malice's mind races as she thinks. The choice is obvious. Since she's heartless, she doesn't really understand love—she's never felt it and doesn't know why anyone would ever feel it for someone. But loving someone is like really liking something. And just as when you really like something, you don't want anyone else to use it.

"I choose Brother C." She grins and punches the air and makes a confident face. I so nailed this one.

"Is that your final answer?"

"Yeah, duh, it's a no brainer."

"Okay." She presses a button on the remote and says, "Contestants, she has chosen Brother C. What do you think of that, Brother A?"

"I'll give you a diamond ring if you change your mind."

"Brother B?" says the Tinkerer.

"I forgive you."

The Tinkerer mutes them again, and says, "Now bachelorette, I give you one last chance to change your choice."

"No can do, Tinkerer-Winkerer. You're trying to trick me. The choice is obvious."

The Tinkerer arches a brow. "Oh? I'm intrigued. Why do you say that?"

"Because Brother A was obviously trying to appeal to my greed and bribe me, while Brother B was just trying to appear meek and sappy to appeal to my desire to dominate others. But only Brother C expressed what love really is. It's like a form of ownership so strong that you don't want to share someone with anyone else, right?...isn't it?" She's starting to doubt herself a little. Maybe she doesn't know what love is at all.

The Tinkerer shrugs. "Final answer?"

To heck with it. Malice nods. "Final answer."

"Very well, then, Miss. I ask you to...don the Vorpal Fist!"

So Malice reaches and picks it up and slips it on her right hand. She tries to fit her fingers inside.

"Do you feel anything?" the Tinkerer asks.

As Malice struggles, she says, "What do you mean? It's a little big for me. I feel the metal insides. No inner padding?"

"No, I mean. You feel no tingling, or energy or anything? Feel like it's taking over you, hear whispers telling you to do things? Anything like that?"

"Nope, no, nothing like that. In fact, I think this thing might slide off my hand if I'm not careful." She lifts the gauntlet and crinkles her fingers to form a fist. She looks at it. "It's not even glowing or making buzzing sounds or anything. Are you sure this thing is magic?"

"How curious. Well, it's supposed to be magic. Of course, I haven't seen it in use. But let's try it out on your choice, shall we?"

Malice nods. "Let's."

"Brother C...prepare yourself...for the Vorpal Fist!" She presses a button and nods to Malice.

Malice steps toward him. "Um, prepare yourself...to be...disheartened...!" The contestant just sits there nodding meekly, meeting her eyes.

Malice lifts the Vorpal Fist and takes a step toward him. Ack. This thing is heavy. She punches with a medium amount of effort at his chest, and the guy just sits there with a neutral expression.

The fist strikes his chest with a soft thud, and he is knocked back a little bit, but remains seated. He smirks.

A tuba sound of failure issues forth, "Buh buh buh buhhhh..."

The Tinkerer says, "Oh, I'm so sorry, but you made the wrong choice. The correct answer was Brother B. That's Brother B..."

Malice scowls. "What? Number B? But he's a weakling!"

"Maybe that's what love is, a willingness to be weak in the eyes of someone else."

Malice is overwhelmed. She doesn't understand that at all. "What?" she says helplessly.

Brother C says, "So I won, right? I get my prize!"

"Yes, yes. Hold your horses. Stay on the line." She presses a button. "Now Miss Malice, I admit, I thought that the Vorpal Fist might not even work for a heartless being like yourself. I shall have to conduct more experiments, but I theorize it may only be used by someone with a blackened heart, not someone entirely missing one, like yourself."

Malice feels strangely ashamed. "Well, I can't help it, I was made this way."

"Yes, well in any case, it all worked out. You failed, so please toss the Vorpal Fist over the force field wall. I shall temporarily turn off the ceiling force field." She presses a button.

Malice hugs the oversized fist to her chest. "And if I shan't?!"

"Look, you're not in charge here. You lost, so you give the fist back. Simple. I have ways of making you comply."

Malice thinks upon that for a moment, before saying, "Fine." She flings the Vorpal Fist with rude abandon, and it lands next to the Tinkerer, almost striking her and causing her to flinch.

The Tinkerer scowls. "Hey, careful! You almost interrupted the laser!"

"I should work on my aim."

"Your turn is over." And with the press of a button she disappears, and not only that, but the three brothers and the pub-inside-a square disappear, leaving Malice inside a plain, black square labeled "Grimm Game", sullenly awaiting her next turn.

Chapter 51 The Groundhog

Alice rolls the dice again. "Another snake eyes!" she says with a scowl. "How boring." Alice jumps on Tea Party, takes a right turn and lands on a black square labeled, "Groundhog". Just as before, the square expands and outlines of things appear without colour.

Alice sees the form of the Groundhog being outlined—he seems to be poking his head through something. Next to him is the outline of a little girl. The colors begin to fill in and the details become clearer. The Tinkerer and crew are watching on Alice's right, outside the 15 by 15 foot square.

Alice is shrieking and pressing her hands to the sides of her face as she finally makes everything out. The Groundhog is facing her with his head stuck in a guillotine, and that little girl next to him... Alice points. "That's me!"

"Yes, well it is a replica of you. One of my inventions."

"A facsimile?"

"Well, it's the actual facsimile. I mean, it's not virtual reality."

At this point, the Groundhog screams, "Let me go, please!? I'll do anything you want."

The girl is wearing a long-sleeved leotard. On the ground in front of her are written the words, "A.L.I.C.E Assault Unit". The girl looks exactly like Alice in a leotard.

The Alice replica remains perfectly still with a blank expression on her face. Everything inside the square has filled in now—it looks like the Queen of Heart's execution area, or at least a square of it.

The Tinkerer holds up a finger. "Excuse me." She presses a button on the remote and the Groundhog continues screaming and sobbing silently. "Had to mute him," she explains.

Now the Cat interrupts, "Does the replica have brains too? I should like to see her blow them out."

The Tinkerer seems irked. "You too." She presses a button, and the Cat continues speaking but can't be heard.

The Tinkerer says, "I see it was a mistake to turn his volume back on in the first place. Now where were we? Oh yes, she's one of my inventions, and I hope to create many more. She is a weapon, an A.L.I.C.E. tactical assault unit. It's a machine called an automaton that looks just like you, a sweet innocent girl, but as we both know, looks can be deceiving. For even the sweetest pussy cats..." Now she calls out to the automaton, "A.L.I.C.E., extend!" From the knuckles of the automaton's hands extend 3-foot-long metal claws. "can scratch your eyes out," the Tinkerer finishes. The automaton retracts her claws just as suddenly as she extended them.

"Kitty has claws," Alice says in wonder.

"Yes, the perfect spy or assassin. Sugar and spice on the outside, arsenic on the inside. Poke her dimples and pull back a stub, hug her, and expect to see your entrails unrolling onto the floor. And her claws aren't even the best part. Those are just her hands. And yet..."

Alice is fully aware that the conversation is being led by the Tinkerer, but she does as expected and asks, "And yet what?"

"And yet I found the project unchallenging. Unfulfilling. Anyone can create a super weapon, but how many can create an automaton that feels, that loves. It's quite an interesting challenge, isn't it?"

"Yes, quite." Alice arches a brow, and peers at the automaton A.L.I.C.E., who still hasn't moved this whole time, beyond extending her claws, that is.

"That's why I call her the 'intimacy-capable entity'. It's in the acronym."

"What's the acronym stand for?"

"I thought you'd never ask. I couldn't decide on one acronym, but I settled for just two. So it stands for both, 'Automated Little-girl Imitation Combat Engager' and 'Automated Little-girl Intimacy-Capable Entity'."

"I'm intrigued. Does she kill with kindness?"

"No, she's a killing machine of the vicious sort, much like yourself.

Alice feels an unexpected twinge of regret. She thought her heart had turned all black and remorseless. So why is she feeling a weak emotion like regret?

The Tinkerer continues, "However, I hopefully have come up with the fix to make her be much more—a companion, capable of intimacy and kindness. So she nurtures with kindness, at least that's the idea."

Alice feels repulsed by those words. "I'm confused. You made her able to play nice, for what reason?"

The Tinkerer scrunches her forehead up in a wrinkly mush of surprise. "Why, for the challenge of course. It would be a feat only capable of being performed by a true genius. Me." She points at herself.

"So, I'm confused. Is my challenge to fight her or have some giggling cuddle fest with her?"

"Neither. I have a bit more explaining to do before I reveal your tasks."

Alice sighs. "Well you're quite good at creating suspense, that's for certain."

She grins. "Thank you. Now, I designed the A.L.I.C.E. unit to be a companion, fully loyal to her owner. She will defend her owner at all costs. She is literally, a killing machine. Creating a killing machine whose sole nature is to kill and destroy was the easy part. I wanted to see if I could make her act in a way that was, in a sense, against her nature. As she stands there before you, unblinkily by the way—she has no need to blink. As she stands there, do you see what she is missing?"

Alice peers at the machine but sees two arms and legs and nothing missing. In fact the machine looks just like Alice herself, or Malice, absent the slashes on her face. A part of her even fears the "machine" is actually just Malice standing very still. "I see nothing missing. Perhaps something inside? Is she heartless as well?" Like so many of the creatures in Wonderland, she is implying.

"Ah, yes! You've got it! She has no heart. But... I designed one for her. I installed it with a kindness subroutine utilizing biomimetic algorithms. I hope that it can make her care, and even, I dare but hope...love."

"Darest thou?!"

"I do." The Tinkerer nods.

"I'll go rhymin's?"

"No no, algorithms, they're like mathematically based computer programs used to solve problems, or make decisions. Savvy?"

"Maths?"

The Tinkerer rolls her eyes.

Suddenly the realization comes to Alice, so she exclaims, "The Ticktock Heart!"

"That's right. Install the heart and she will become so much more than a simple killing machine. She could well become a kind, gentle, compassionate being, capable of love." Her eyes go wide with wonder as she contemplates that.

"But I thought you made the Ticktock Heart for living breathing creatures who are missing a heart."

"Yes, well theoretically, a living being can use it, but the results are unpredictable. As I often say, biological systems are so messy and unpredictable. Yes, a living thing could use the heart, but I originally designed it for the A.L.I.C.E. unit."

"So you want me to put the Ticktock Heart inside the A.L.I.C.E. unit?"

She lifts her index finger in the air. "Ah, ah...therein lies the challenge I present to you. You must make a choice. A most curious choice."

"A choice!" Alice exclaims. She can't think of anything more intelligent to say.

"Yes, this is the challenge of the square, that I present to you. You have two choices. Either you decide to allow the guillotine to fall and slice off the head of this most loathsome rodent, the Groundhog." She waves a hand at him. "I've heard you two have a history. A most bile-inducing history. Well, here's your chance...behead him and you shall keep the Ticktock Heart as your own."

"And the other choice?"

"Yes, the other choice. Or...you may decide to give up the Ticktock Heart, and install it into the A.L.I.C.E. unit's leotard sleeve, at which point she will become activated and become your companion. Of course, by deciding that, you will spare the Groundhog's life. And put away all notions of having her exterminate the Groundhog after activating her—I'm not that daft. No, if you activate the unit, the Groundhog shall live."

Alice says, "Well it seems quite a simple matter, doesn't it? I behead the rodent, and get my revenge and keep the Ticktock Heart to boot."

The Tinkerer eyes her with a creepy sort of half grin. "Perhaps it might be simple to someone with a pure, cruel black heart. But think upon this...perhaps the Groundhog is not all bad. Does he truly deserve to die? And what of the machine? Does it deserve to go on existing heartlessly when it could have the chance to feel, to love? Is it really such a simple choice?"

"What if I choose to do neither?"

"Then I shall execute the Groundhog on your behalf. And I would ask you to give up the heart."

Alice grinds her teeth. She is quite perturbed by the Tinkerer's controlling nature.

The Cheshire Cat yells, "Choose to kill the rat! I want to see his head roll!" The Tinkerer must have turned his volume back on at some point without Alice realizing.

The Tinkerer grins at his words, taking it with uncharacteristic good humor. She says, "Ah, mulling it over I see!"

Yes, I am. But why? The obvious choice is to kill the Groundhog. That choice is true to my blackhearted nature.

The Tinkerer seems to be pondering Alice. "Are you having doubts? I find that quite interesting. Would you like to speak to the Groundhog? Perhaps you'd enjoy hearing him beg for his life."

A part of her would very much like to hear some begging and pleading and whimpering. But there is a small niggling part of her that is not looking forward to it. She swallows, now nods. "Okay."

"Ah, splendid," says the Tinkerer, before pressing the button on the remote.

Just like before, with the Jabberwock, it takes a few moments for the Groundhog to come around. His eyes widen and he tries to look around, but his neck is restrained by the guillotine. It doesn't seem like he can see the automaton A.L.I.C.E. or the Tinkerer and others. But he's facing Alice. He squints his eyes, says, "Queen Malice?"

Alice replies, "No, it's Alice."

In his American accent, the Groundhog says, "Alice! Look, ya gotta help me get up out of this guillotine! I don't wanna die. Please!"

Alice can't help but smile. She so loves the feeling of power. "I have a choice of whether to let you live or die..."

"Oh, do please let me live! I'll be forever grateful! I'll make it up to you."

The Cheshire Cat shouts, "Your head's gonna roll!"

"Who said that?" He strains to look, but can't see very far. The Tinkerer presses a button, and the Cat shouts something but isn't heard.

Alice's fists clench at her side as she tries not to give in to her anger. "Do you remember...at your burrow. How you bit me to try to make me cry my magic tears on you?"

"Yes, I'm so sorry about that. I was afraid."

"Yeah, afraid for your life, and you wanted to save your hide at the expense of mine! You would have given me to the guards to save yourself."

"I'm so sorry. I couldn't think of a way out of it. But I wanted to save you. I would have used the power of your tears to help us both. I wanted to use them to get you out of there!" He's sniveling now.

The Cat is watching the Groundhog with a big grin, the Tinkerer looks merely intrigued, and the Red Queen is focused on her running.

Alice shouts, "Liar! You would have given me up! You deserve to die!"

"But look, we were both desperate. You abandoned me to save yourself too. You left me for dead. So we're even, don't you think? No hard feelings."

Alice gives up and lets the rage fully take over—she can feel the hatred beating in her black heart. "No hard feelings?" She looks around dramatically as if puzzled. "No hard feelings? I am more important than you. My life matters more than yours. That's why you deserve to die now."

The tears start flowing from his eyes as he starts blubbering. "Please! Please have mercy! I'll do anything! I don't wanna die." He breaks down into sobs.

Alice feels her grin creep harder. I shall play with him, then tell him I will kill him anyway. Oh, I can't wait to see the look of terror in his eyes. "I want to hear you beg for your life, and I shan't listen anymore to excuses. Tell me how wrong you were for what you did."

The Groundhog looks at the ground.

"No," Alice corrects, "look at me." Their eyes lock. Coldly, calmly, Alice says, "Tell me."

He looks into her eyes, his lips trembling. "Please, I beg of you. Have mercy! I was wrong for what I did. I was a coward. And I never should have bit you and for that I am terribly terribly sorry. You're right. My life is worth so much less than yours. You are great, the greatest queen ever, and I am a piece of flotsam who's not worthy of kissing your feet. I am truly sorry for my loathesome actions. I'll do anything you ask, just please please let me live." His voice takes on a high-pitched whine. "Pleaaase?!" He sobs. "I'm so sorry. So, so sorry."

Alice nods at him slowly, with a firm mouth as if weighing his words.

Oh, this shall be marvelously wicked. A few more nods to keep his hopes up, then I shall dig in the screws and tell him I will just let him die after all. I wonder if he'll scream out, or perhaps cry all the more—he does seem to cry quite a bit. I thought Americans were supposed to be rough and tough cowboys. Perhaps he'll curse me with his last dying breath, before his words shall be cut short by the guillotine blade. Oh, wouldn't that be wonderful? She chuckles to herself, but now, in midchuckle, an odd sensation hits her in the chest. She frowns a little, as she finally hears the misery driving the poor Groundhog's sobs. She actually feels sorry for him! And now she feels a strange twitching in her heart, as if her heartbeat is fibrillating. She presses her hand to her chest. The Groundhog sounds truly terrified. Perhaps he has suffered enough. But no, what am I thinking? Surely I don't pity the rodent, but if I am willing to let him live, the A.L.I.C.E. unit shall become my companion—a spectacular weapon that will be loyal to me. And that is the real reason to spare his life. I see now that the Tinkerer has tried to trick me. She obviously wants me to choose the obvious choice of killing the Groundhog.

She glares at the Tinkerer, and the Tinkerer smirks back.

Alice says, "I choose..." She taps her chin.

Chapter 52 She Chooses . . .

Alice taps her chin a few seconds more. "I choose...to spare the Groundhog's life and to give my heart to the automaton."

The Groundhog exclaims, "Oh, thank you Queen Alice! Thank you so so much!"

Alice nods and grins at the Groundhog before catching herself and scowling. Her heart begins twitching for some reason.

Meanwhile, the Cheshire Cat shouts silently from behind the containment field. From reading his lips, it looks like he shouts, "Bollocks!" a few times.

And the Groundhog is blubbering, "Thank you," over and over again. The Tinkerer, looking disturbed by him, presses a remote button and the Groundhog can no longer be heard.

The Tinkerer says, "A wonderful choice."

Alice can't tell if she's being sarcastic. Indeed, Alice is not sure what choice the Tinkerer actually wanted her to make anymore. So Alice just says, "Promise me you'll keep the Groundhog alive." She doesn't know why she said it, because why should she care if the Tinkerer actually keeps that part of her promise—but it just seems to be the proper thing to do. She is distracted by a curious sensation of warmth in her chest and presses her hand to it.

The Tinkerer arches a brow at that. "Of course. I never cheat, and I always keep my promises. But I wonder why you should care so much about the Groundhog's well being. Perhaps the therapy is beginning to take effect."

"What therapy?"

"Doing kind deeds. Pray tell, you aren't actually feeling compassion for him?"

Alice feels overwhelming rage. "Of course not. I—" She doesn't know what she feels. "I just want to keep you honest. And I want my automated escort."

There's that smirk again. "Oh, yes, of course. Well if you want to turn the automaton on, simply insert the Ticktock Heart into the indentation on her sleeve."

Alice sneers. "Where she wears it..."

"Yes, you get it. She'll be a compassionate automaton who wears her heart on her sleeve. Inserting the heart shall activate her. I shall set her to remain loyal to you." She squeals and scrunches her shoulders. "Oh! Isn't this most exciting!"

Alice doesn't know what to think. Is this some kind of trick? But I chose this, let's see what happens.

She rummages in her dress pocket to pull out the gleaming metal contraption. She shoots a query at the Tinkerer. "She'll be loyal to me?"

"Absolutely, I promise," is the Tinkerer's response, and she does indeed look sincere.

Alice approaches the automaton with her Ticktock Heart in hand. She hadn't noticed the heart-shaped indentation before, but now she sees it on the automaton's shoulder. She touches the machine's arm, and it remains as still as a statue. I say, there are entirely too many facsimiles of me about this place, aren't there? She notices the skin of the automaton doesn't look quite like real flesh. It looks harder. Perhaps it is made of that substance called plastic?

The Tinkerer says, "Now, be a good girl and put the heart in. Take care to wind it first."

"Very well." She winds it before slipping the heart into the indentation.

The eyelids of the automaton slide up like a doll designed to mimic sleep when lying down, then open its eyes when held up. Like a machine, she turns her head smoothly to look at Alice. "Mommy?" she says.

Alice is at a loss for words. She looks to the Tinkerer, who explains, "She is initiating the imprint program. When she first starts, she needs to find out whom she is to serve and be loyal to. So tell her yes."

When Alice turns back to the automaton, the machine is holding her hands clasped in front of her chest and looking at her with big pleading eyes. Alice stammers out, "Yes, I am your...mommy." More like twin sister...or is it triplet sister? There are way too many reproductions of me going around, it seems to me.

The machine squeals in delight. "Ooh, thank you master! I shall protect you with my life, and vanquish any foe that threatens you, with my most fearsome arsenal of weaponry." She flicks her arms down and unleashes her claws.

The Tinkerer says, "Now the unit will perform a short demonstration before turning on completely. Its complex loyalty and intelligence programs will be booting up while it performs a kata for us."

"Kata?" Alice is distracted as the automaton quickly crouches down with her feet set wide apart, now looks around.

"Yes, it is like a dance sort of—it's meant to illustrate martial arts. It's used in karate."

"What is that?"

"It's a way of fighting, from the East, in the Asian lands. Have you never heard of it?"

The automaton starts hopping and spinning and kicking and slashing while grunting and yelling. She seems to be fighting imaginary enemies.

Alice finds it all quite dazzling, but she keeps up her conversation. "I'm from England."

"Yes, I know, but perhaps you've read of it in the adventure magazines. Ooh, there, she goes."

The automaton back flips, now does the full splits on the ground while unleashing a flurry of upward claw strokes. "Keeyah!" she yells.

She rolls on the ground, now hops into a spinning crouch kick, lands, now shoots a stream of flame from her mouth into the ground. "Ayah!" she yells,

Alice just watches, dumbfounded.

I never do anything like that. All I can do is snap necks.

The automaton stands, retracts her claws, presses her fist into the palm of her other hand, and bows at Alice.

I guess the kata is over.

The automaton announces, "I'm all booted up. I'm fully functional and willing and able to fight all your foes. Scanning." She steps in a circle. "I spy with my little eye, a giant rat, a floating cat head, a little girl, and a running queen. Tell me, master, who is friend, and who is foe?"

Alice is taken aback by the question. "I don't know... The Groundhog tried to sacrifice my life for his own, and we're not friends. So, foe, I guess?"

The assault unit's face contorts, enraged, and shrieks, "Destroy the enemy combatant!" She extends one claw and begins running toward the Groundhog, who is unaware of what's going on.

Alice wasn't really expecting this reaction. All she knows is that she was asked a question that she attempted to answer with consideration and honesty.

The extended shriek of the robot is piercing the air as her arm is extended back in anticipation of piercing the Groundhog, but just as the A.L.I.C.E. unit is about to slice him, he vanishes, and the automaton grinds to a halt, stands up straight and proclaims, "The threat has vanished, master." Her claw retracts and she bows.

Alice looks to the Tinkerer, who says, "Now why did you go and tell her that?"

The Cheshire Cat says, "Aw, I wanted to see some bloodshed!"

I guess at some point, she turned his volume back on.

And meanwhile the assault unit turns to peer at the Tinkerer and companions.

The Tinkerer continues. "You chose to spare the Groundhog, remember? So I had to remove him from our virtual perception in order to save his furry hide, speaking of which, I wonder if he'd make a good fur coat. Hmmm..." She's lost in thought.

The automaton says, "Who are those three? Be they friend or foe?"

Alice mulls it over. I wonder if I should make that device attack the Tinkerer? Would she be powerful enough to go through the force field or smart enough to get past it somehow? If indeed it is such a wonderful weapon, it just might. But do I want to risk it?

"Master?" the A.L.I.C.E. unit says.

But Alice is still mulling, and the answer comes from the Tinkerer. "I'm the Tinkerer. I created you. And this is the Cheshire Cat, and the Red Queen."

The assault unit curtsies. "Well first of all, thank you for creating me. I find it most lovely to be in existence."

"You're quite welcome," says the Tinkerer.

"And second," says the automaton, "are you my master's friend or foe?"

Alice chooses not to speak, but watches on with one raised eyebrow.

The Tinkerer thinks for a few seconds. "It's complicated. We have a bit of a...rivalry."

Alice huffs. "Rivalry?!"

The Tinkerer responds, "Yes, like a sibling rivalry, yeah? Love and hate mixed, right?"

Alice shakes her head slowly with her lips jutted out.

"Oh, lighten up a bit. Perhaps you'd like to try the unit's cuddle function. Might make you feel better."

The automaton looks slowly back and forth between them with an oddly calm expression as if assessing the situation.

The Tinkerer says, "You can cuddle, right? I mean, your kindness subroutines are functioning properly, right, A.L.I.C.E. unit?"

"Yes, I am fully capable of initiating and maintaining cuddling, in accordance with my kindness subroutine."

"Excellent. I am so proud of what I did in creating you."

The unit nods.

"I've a question," Alice says.

The Tinkerer replies, "Yes?"

"You wouldn't have a button on that remote that turns the unit off or changes her loyalty or anything like that?"

The Tinkerer looks offended. "Why of course not, that wouldn't be proper. The unit is designed to be undyingly loyal. Why, if I had a button, that would be like cheating don't you think? And I don't cheat. I have no control of her at this point."

Alice nods. "Mmmhmmm." The Tinkerer has a strange sense of honour and honesty. I don't know why she does, but I will put it to good use. "So I've decided," Alice says.

"Pardon?" says the Tinkerer.

Alice raises her arm and points at the Tinkerer and proclaims, "She is my foe! Attack attack attack!"

The assault unit leaps into action, extends her claws, and runs at the Tinkerer while issuing an ear-splitting shriek.

But now a couple feet away from the Tinkerer, she slams into the invisible force field which flashes green as the unit's head lurches back and with a loud cracking sound she's bounced backward onto her bottom.

"Wait, stop!" the Tinkerer shouts.

Alice shouts, "It's a force field. An invisible barrier. Try to cut through it and use your dragon fire!"

The automaton obeys without hesitation, slashing at the force field with her claws, now shooting forth flames. The flames, oddly, seem to pass through the field—they almost reach the Tinkerer, who flinches. But the unit can't cut through the barrier, yet continues trying.

The Tinkerer, with a bit of alarm says, "I cannot recommend this."

Ah, I heard that alarm in your voice, brat! Perhaps you are afraid for some reason?

The automaton kicks at the field and continues slashing, causing a ruckus of clanking sounds.

"Harder!" Alice shouts. "Use your fists! Hit it as hard as you can!"

The Tinkerer, again looking alarmed says, "Oh, dear! That is not—"

The automaton retracts her claws, draws her arm back, strikes the force field with such a loud clank that her arm is torn from her body, ripped at the shoulder which shoots sparks. The arm flings away.

"—advised," the Tinkerer completes her sentence.

Sparks are shooting from wires in the machine's shoulder. The automaton strikes the field with her other arm and that one is ripped and flung away as well.

Alice watches in shock. The machine shoots forth a stream of flame from her mouth.

The Tinkerer begins a sentence, "Tell her—"

The unit head butts the force field so hard that her head is ripped and flung backward—it sails through the air and toward Alice, who catches it without thinking.

The Tinkerer completes her sentence, "—to stop."

The automaton's headless, armless body bursts into flames. In a daze, Alice looks down at the back of the machine's head. She turns it over, and says, "Stop?"

The Tinkerer informs, "Well, it's hardly of use now—her head's not on her body anymore, is it?"

The automaton's facial features are twitching and her lips are curling and grimacing. In a pleasant voice she says, "My apologies master."

Alice smiles. "Think nothing of it my dear. You tried, didn't you?" Alice hears a thud and looks up to see the flaming automaton's body has fallen into the ground. It feebly begins kicking at the force field.

The Tinkerer, meanwhile is muttering, "Oh no no no..." while biting at her nails.

When Alice looks down at the automaton head, a waft of black stinky smoke poofs into her face, making her cough. The unit's head freezes while making a goofy grimace, and stops moving.

Alice asks, "Are you okay?" but it doesn't respond. "Oh, bother." Looking down at it, she says, "Me mum would always say, 'Stop making that face, or it might freeze that way'."

She giggles, but suddenly feels bad for giggling. I actually feel sorry for this machine but it's not even a real person! It's just a machine!

The Tinkerer says, "Yes she did and in this rare instance it turned out to be true!" And now Alice hears the Tinkerer crying with her face in her hands. "My robot! My beautiful invention!"

Looking over, the body is still on fire, but no longer kicking—it's lowering and raising its legs as if trying to walk.

Look at the little pipsqueak over there, crying like she's the victim. "It's your own fault! Didn't you build into it any sense of self-preservation?"

She lifts her tear-wetted face from her hands. "Alas, no, I didn't. I gave her none at at all. She was designed to do whatever her master said, and to be willing even to destroy herself if it was ordered. I didn't realize it would take you less than five minutes to get her to do so...you...you..."

"Non-automaton? At least I have a sense of self preservation. I merely did what I could to save myself."

The Tinkerer hrmphs and crosses her arms. Turns her head and looks away with a scowl.

Alice shrugs. "Should have designed her better." She looks down at the unit's head still making that creepy goofy face. It causes her to giggle in a creeped-out fashion. "Hey." She shakes the head. "Wake up." She slaps its forehead a couple of times with her palm. No go. The thing is broken. Suddenly, she remembers the Ticktock Heart. She looks at the arm on the ground as the Tinkerer says, "I designed her just fine. You were the one who gave her the stupid order to hit the force field as hard as she could. The force field is stronger than some robot."

Alice shrugs absentmindedly as she squints at the formerly-right arm. Its hand is opening and closing in a slow automatic fashion. A reflex of sorts? And there! She sees the Ticktock Heart on the sleeve, apparently undamaged.

"I say," she says, mostly to herself. "That heart on that sleeve there." She intends to drop the useless head on the ground without looking at it, but at the last second, she thinks better of it. I should show the automaton a little respect. She looks at it and bends to set the head upon the ground. Wait, what am I doing? Why would I respect a machine? Nevertheless, she follows through, and gently sets the head on the ground.

The Tinkerer looks at the arm too. "Oh, is that thing still ticking? Seems not all is lost, at least."

Alice is walking toward the arm. "Well do I still get to keep it, or will you use your remote control and force field to take it from me?"

"How would I use the force field to take it? That doesn't even make sense."

Alice is standing in front of the arm now, looking down. "Hey, well I'm not the genius inventor. All I know is I won the Ticktock Heart fair and square right?"

The Tinkerer waggles her hand in the air, says, "Fine, keep it. It is quite an exquisite piece of machinery. Perhaps you can manage not to set it aflame?"

Alice grins, nods, and picks up the robot arm. "But of course, why would I do that?" She punctuates with a sickly sweet smile.

"Well at least you destroyed her on accident, so it shouldn't blacken your heart," the Tinkerer admits.

"Glad to hear it." Alice plucks the Ticktock Heart out, and tosses the arm over her shoulder. "Speaking of hearts, is it too late to take the Ticktock Heart on as my own?"

"Not at all. Having a change of heart?"

"I'm considering one..."

"But not certain."

"No, perhaps if you told me—"

"Yes, well your turn is officially over, so you shall have time to consider. Do behave yourself as I attend to Malice, won't you, love?"

"Certainly," she answers with a grin. "I have little choice, now, do I?"

"Quite right." She presses a button and the square goes black and plain with large dice on the ground. With another button press, she and her entourage all vanish.

Chapter 53 The Flamingo

Malice rolls a 4 on the dice and hops forward on the little squares. Goes past Duchess and Cook, past Knight, takes a right, goes past Tweedles. She lands on a square labeled Flamingo. The next square over is the start square.

The Flamingo square expands to about 15 feet by 15 feet. The Tinkerer and companions are watching outside the right edge of the square. The details begin to fill in. It takes a while as she squints. She makes out the details of a large bird in front of her. Now she sees it's Morley, the flamingo poet she thought she'd killed. In fact, the last she saw him, she was just about to play croquet with his dead body, when she was called away because of a false alarm of an attack.

Morley was usually a pink Flamingo, but, My, he's looking rather pale. In fact he's looking quite ivory. But I imagine it's merely the colours not catching up immediately in this virtual reality. He must surely turn pink within moments from now.

But alas, now she sees, everything has filled in. She is standing in what looks like a dungeon, though there are no walls in the square. All the colours are as vibrant as real life. But the Flamingo remains as white as a ghost, in shocking contrast to the red hat with the burgundy feather in it he always wears. He is shackled to the ground with heavy chains and clasps of metal bands around his legs.

Malice grunts in disgust. "Didn't I kill you?"

The Flamingo's eyes go wide in horror and he struggles at his chains. They make clinking noises. "Oh, no!" he shouts, staring at her claw marks. "I thought you might be the other one!"

"Who, Alice? I much doubt she'd be any better. She's completely blackhearted now."

The Tinkerer chimes in, "I wouldn't be so sure of that."

They both turn their heads to look at her.

The Tinkerer says, "The Queen Alice has been committing a few kind deeds of late. You might want to give it a try sometime."

"Good deeds like what?" Malice says.

"Like sparing lives." She tilts her head at the Flamingo, who makes a whimper noise that sounds a bit strangled coming from his twisted neck.

Malice sneers. "Well, to me, kind is a four letter word. And if there's one thing I despise, it's characters who won't stay dead after I've gone through the trouble of killing them." And here she makes a mocking mimic of the Tinkerer's head tilt.

The Flamingo, who has turned to look at Malice, makes a sound something like, "wauhhh!" as his eyes go wide.

"Perhaps," Malice says, "I will try to get it right next time..." She glares at the Flamingo, who starts snuffling quietly. He refuses to look at her, staring at the ground.

The Tinkerer sounds unimpressed. "Well, if you shan't commit acts of kindness on your own, I shall simply force you to. Kind of like with Alice. See, I run this show, this game. So I forbid you to kill, or harm—"

Malice interrupts, "How about maim?"

"How about scratch the eyes out of?" adds the Cat.

"...or maim or scratch eyes out of...the Flamingo." The words cause him to lift his head again.

Malice says, "Or what?"

"Or you will forfeit your turn and have no chance to win the prize."

"I don't think I much like your game. It seems rigged. And you're a cheat."

"Oh no, I may make the rules, but I assure you I don't break them. Without question. Since we needn't discuss that further, I shall now cleverly inform you that there is another reason you shan't kill the Flamingo a second time."

"That being?"

The Tinkerer pauses for dramatic effect. "You never killed him in the first place. I rescued him."

Malice sneers. "Yes, how very clever of you."

"Thank you. You see, after his neck was sliced, I was immediately alerted. My quick actions saved his life. I contrived a diversion to get you away from Morley, then using cutting edge medical procedures, I performed microsurgery on his neck, sealing the veins and arteries again. I gave him a blood transfusion to replace his lost blood. And he recovered."

The Flamingo turns to her, says, "I thank you for that."

The Tinkerer flaps her hand in the air. "You've thanked me enough. I'm more interested now in the task at hand, which is the game."

Malice is feeling rather irritable. She says, "Yes? Well get on with it, then!"

"Very well. I present to you a challenge. A riddle. If you figure it out, and act on it, you will be presented with the prize."

"What prize?"

"You shall see, or mayhaps, won't. It depends on how well you perform, I suppose. In either case, it's best not to pout, and play along, lest you want to forfeit your turn that is..." She raises an eyebrow quizzically.

"Fine, then, let's hear the riddle."

The Tinkerer nods to the Flamingo. The Flamingo looks at Malice. He clears his long throat, now recites,

There's those who change hues from the weather,

And yes, I am pale, you must think.

But my kind change hues from a feather,

So I ask you, please blank blank blank blank.

To laugh at what's truly a bother,

Won't require one talk to a shrink,

When this torment's brought on by another,

So I ask you, please, blank blank blank blank.

The bird nods to indicate he's done.

The Tinkerer explains, "Your task is to figure out the parts of the poem that has been left out, and to act on it. I'll give you five minutes." She gestures at Malice to proceed.

Malice says, "Well, if it's a proper poem, it must rhyme...what rhymes with think and shrink? Stink? No, pink, of course. You're a pink flamingo, or you usually are. You're looking rather pale of late, though. Your poem mentions that. 'Those who change hues from the weather...'That's a reference to browning from the sun. Am I to make you pink again, somehow?"

The bird won't meet her eyes.

"He can't answer you," the Tinkerer explains.

Malice mutters, "I figured as much. Very well...the poem says you change hues from a feather. What does that mean? Hmmm. I'm stumped. Perhaps the second verse will be of help."

Malice taps her chin. "Hmmm. The 'laugh at what's truly a bother' part... Is that like deriving pleasure from pain that your poet Swinburne enjoys?" They don't respond to her question. "Hmm, the poem says such a practice won't require one talk to a shrink when the torment's brought on by another. What does that mean? It's not crazy to laugh at torment so long as it's done by another? But that does seem quite mad! Only a crazy person would do that, I should think. And what's that got to do with a feather?"

She thinks for a few moments.

Feather. Laughing. Feather...

"Ah! Tickling! When one's tickled, one laughs, but it's a bother, and one can't tickle oneself, so it's a 'torment brought on by another'. Oh! And now I believe I have the missing words! 'Tickle me pink!' That's what you want me to do! With a feather?" She points at the feather in the Flamingo's hat. "With that feather! Am I right?"

The Flamingo nods.

The Tinkerer says, "Excellent. You figured it out. Now you need only act on it to pass. You have about three minutes left."

"Bah. The idea of making that wretched bird laugh turns my stomach. He'd enjoy it too much—I can't do it."

"He'd enjoy it at first like all tickling, but after a while he'd be bothered."

"Still doesn't seem proper. It'd be like playing with him, rather than killing him." She crosses her arms.

"Well then, you won't get the prize. You're running out of time. Also, I warn you again, don't tickle him to death. It's a feather from the nest of a tickle monster—it's lethal if overused."

"I shan't." Malice crosses her arms tighter and raises her nose in the air. But a part of her is thinking that she wants to win a prize.

The Tinkerer, watching says, "You're torn. I can tell. What will you decide?"

This game is rigged, but perhaps it's best I play along. I may need the prize to win, and winning is the most important thing. After all, the tickling will become a torment after a while. I could even tickle him to death! But, no I mustn't do that. He must live. Of course, I could always kill him later.

"I'll do it," Malice says as she plucks the feather from the hat.

"Ah, interesting," says the Tinkerer. "I wonder what effect it will have on you."

The bird says, "Thanks ahead of time for doing this for me. If I go too long between sessions, I turn pale, and of course, I can't tickle myself."

Malice grunts at that. She kneels and pulls one of his legs up and begins tickling under his foot with the feather.

The Flamingo begins to giggle. He tries to pull his foot away, but Malice holds it firm. The chains clink, keeping him in place. He laughs as if he's heard the funniest joke in the world. "Ahh hah hah! Stop, stop!" Malice has to focus on moving the feather properly to maximize tickle-ability, but she takes a quick glance at the Flamingo. His body is now a slightly-reddish white. The Flamingo keeps on laughing loudly but now he has to force himself to stop to take gasps of breath. "Ah ha! Please stop!" More tickling. The Flamingo's skin turns slightly more pink. The Flamingo is laughing and gasping for breath. Malice notices a tear land in the dirt beside her. "Please! Stop! It's not funny anymore!" (Gasp for breath.)

A grin creeps up the side of Malice's face. "Starting to hurt, is it? Good. I'm starting to enjoy this!"

He's wheezing and laughing, tears streaming down his face. "Please! It hurts so much! Please stop." He continues laughing but the laughter sounds painful. "Ow. Ow." He's now a light pink, but Malice won't stop now, at least not until he turns his regular shade of bright pink.

"Perhaps," she says, while wavering the feather, "I shall tickle you to death! I would so much more enjoy that than stopping."

"No, please! Ha ha ha! I beg of you, please stop. Pain...Terrible! Ah ha ha!"

"Well, at least I'm glad to know I'm no longer being kind. I daresay, I'm tormenting you."

A few tears plop onto her shoulder from above. She crinkles her eyes as she inspects the Flamingo—he's almost just as pink as she's used to seeing him.

I should stop soon if I am to win the prize.

And she feels a war erupt inside of her, as if there are two parts of her fighting each other.

No! I shan't stop! To hell with this game! I shall make sure to kill him right and proper this time. Nobody escapes from death from me and lives to tell about it!

But, no! I have to stop if I want the prize. I am the most important thing, and I must win this game if I am to conquer everyone else. So, for the sake of winning, I must stop!

No! The game is rigged! Kill the Flamingo! Don't be a pawn in the stupid Tinkerer's stupid game!

But if I do that, I will surely lose, I'll be doomed.

Screw it. Tickle him to death! Get your revenge!

Malice shouts, "No!"

She takes her right hand off the Flamingo's leg and slaps herself loud and hard across her own cheek. "I must save myself!" Her left hand is still wiggling the feather. Her right hand pushes her left hand away, quickly yanks the feather and tosses it aside.

Malice straightens and pulls her arms close to her chest. She is shuddering and feeling sickly. She hugs herself as if wishing to comfort herself.

"Oh, thank you, thank you. Thank you," the pathetic bird says weakly.

She wants to snap his miserable neck, to never hear his voice again. No, don't look at him.

She turns her back to him, stares at the ground of the dungeon, staring intensely at the shapes to distract herself.

She hears the Flamingo make a puzzled sound.

And Malice wants so much to speak, to tell him how much she would like him dead, to tell him she'll kill him if she gets a chance, but she fears if she speaks, she'll lose control.

And the Flamingo, thankfully, wisely, has chosen now to remain silent, because if he wasn't, she couldn't trust herself not to rise up, turn around and strangle him to death.

And so she stares. At the ground.

She hears the voice of the Tinkerer from her left, saying, "Well that was interesting. I was wondering which way you'd go. Heartless beings are fascinating subjects. Tell me, how does it feel to have committed an act of kindness?"

Shrug. "I did what I had to do."

"Do you wish to commit more?"

"Not really. They kind of make me sick."

"Intriguing."

Malice doesn't bother to hide her irritation. "Yes, well, I passed your little challenge. So what is my prize?"

"Ah, yes, well you have a choice of prizes. You may choose either the feather of the tickle monster, or 200 quid."

Malice feels the urge to strangle the Flamingo subside, so she stands and turns to face the Tinkerer. "Why would I want that stupid feather?"

The Tinkerer looks offended. "I'll have you know, that feather is one of the most highly prized feathers in Wonderland, acquired from the nest of a tickle monster, a monster feared the land over for his ability to tickle anyone to death. It is the only feather powerful enough to tickle a flamingo pink. It is the only feather powerful enough to tickle someone to death."

"Bah," says Malice. "It's caused me enough trouble. I'll take the 200 quid."

Because truth be known, Malice can't be sure she could control herself if she used the feather, and if there's one thing she doesn't like, it's not being in control.

"Very well," says the Tinkerer. She presses buttons on the remote and gold coins appear at Malice's feet. "So, I hope you'll excuse me. It's now Miss Alice's turn. But I shall return shortly." She presses a button and disappears, leaving Malice staring at the Flamingo, who seems not to want to meet her gaze.

Chapter 54 The Ticktock Heart

Alice thinks, And so, shall I take on this mechanical Ticktock Heart on as my own? It is, I admit a pretty gleaming thing.

She looks down and shifts it so the light sparkles off it. She feels the steady ticking beating lightly on her fingertips.

Why, imagine how it might gleam with a proper shining—

Her reverie is interrupted by a shout from the Tinkerer, thusly, "So, will you be putting that in your chest then?"

Alice lifts her gaze and turns to face the Tinkerer. She shouts, "If you would wish to goad me into it, perhaps it's best I shan't!"

"But you have so much you could gain from it."

Alice replies, "Me mum always used to say 'you don't get owt for nowt'."

"Yes, yes, both our mums used to say that, but it's an archaic saying. Not relevant. I mean, what, really have you got to lose? Other than a heart-so-black, that is?"

"I don't know! Why don't you tell me? Would a metal heart transform me into one of those artificial persons...one of those...what are they called—those automatons of which the boys like to read in their magazines?"

The Tinkerer says, "Make you like a robot? Well, in actions, perhaps. It might lessen your emotions or remove them completely."

"So why would a ticktock heart be better than a black heart, or no heart at all, for that matter?"

"Why, my dear little Alice, if you were equipped with one of them, you'd be much more like myself—intelligent, logical, mathematical. Precise. You must admit that with your heart-so-black, you're not very rational—why, you're driven by dark emotions!"

Alice sighs and nods. "Yes, that's true. But at least I can feel. I'd rather feel pain if it means I can feel something. Unlike Malice with her heartlessness. So this Ticktock Heart doesn't seem any better than the one I have now."

"But it is not all coldly analytical. I have experimented with some software for it, to mitigate its lack of emotion."

Alice says, "Mitigate?"

"Yes, you know. Ameliorate somewhat."

"Huh?"

"Fine. I've tried to counteract the cold mechanicalness of it."

Alice asks, "How so?"

The Tinkerer seems lost in thought. "I created a kind of computer program—a kindness subroutine."

Alice winces at the sudden mention of that word "kindness" in relation to the actions of a heart. She can feel her heart twitch, almost as if it seeks to escape the very concept by slamming out the back of her. But at least it's not as bad as a few days ago when her reaction would have been much stronger. Perhaps it lessens with time?

The Tinkerer notices her flinch and raises a brow inquisitively but she keeps talking. "Didn't have time to work on the subroutine very much. I say, why did you flinch just then?"

Alice almost snarls her words: "That word: kindness. When you talked about a heart doing that!..." She shudders, but not as strongly as she thought she would. Maybe kindness isn't so terrible after all.

The Tinkerer's face lights up in delight and she clasps her hands in front of herself in squealy delight. "Oh, I see! Your heart of black most true is repelled by the very notion of another heart committing an act of kindness!"

Alice flinches and shudders. "Yes, it would seem so."

"Oh, that will make my regimen all the more testable."

"Begging your pardon?"

"Well, since you now surely will not take on the mechanical heart, that will allow me to continue my methods on your black heart."

"What methods?" Alice asks.

"That I shall not divulge."

Alice arches a brow. "Are you trying to use reverse psychology on me? I've heard of that, you know."

"Absolutely—" She nods. "I am not." She shakes her head.

Alice eyes her suspiciously. "Fine. Then I will not be taking on your Ticktock Heart."

"Excellent. That shall prove interesting."

Alice sighs and slumps her shoulders and tries to stop trying to figure out whether the Tinkerer's psychology is reverse or straight forward.

The Tinkerer says, "My dear little Alice, how will you know unless you try?"

Alice scowls. "That's the second time you've called me 'little Alice'." She stamps her foot. "Why, I'm older than you! And as to trying the metal heart, the fact you want me to do so, so very much, makes me want to do the opposite. I fear that it will transform me into a machine, and I want to stay a real life girl! So I shall stick to the devil—the deviled heart I know, rather than the one I don't know. Or shall you force me otherwise?"

The Tinkerer shrugs. "It's your choice. Besides, you'd have to use the Thirteen of Heartless card to put the heart in, and according to the rule, you must have someone else to play the card toss game with to make the card work."

Alice says, "Yes. Quite. Now, I suppose I shall roll the dice."

"Very well," says the Tinkerer. She presses buttons.

Alice picks up the dice, and in a sudden bout of giddiness, giggles. She proclaims, "And nowwww..." She makes her voice go deeper and deeper until it's rumbling as deep as it will go and she bows forward at the same time. "I shall rolll these bonesssss." She makes her voice go deep again as she holds the s. Now she finishes off with a creaky kind of ribbit, just because it's funny.

She straightens up. "Here we go..." She rolls the dice. They tumble and stop as they hit the invisible force field in front of her.

She's rolled a 7.

Again the green-outlined square shrinks around her. She sees a path of blank hopscotch-sized black squares ahead of her.

So she hops forward and stands on the seventh square, labeled Flamingo, waiting.

The square grows. Now the details of what the Tinkerer had called the "virtual reality" begins to fill in, filling in the ground with stone while the Tinkerer and Red Queen and Cat are outside on the right, watching.

Alice gasps as she sees a girl standing next to her in front of a shackled pink Flamingo with a bandage around his long pink neck and a red hat atop his head—the feather that would usually go in it lies on the ground.

It's Morley, the flamingo poet—his eyes go comically wide. He proclaims, "Alice!"

Alice thinks, As if I weren't aware of my own name.

Now the girl in the cat suit to the left turns to her. As expected, it's Malice—she's taken her mask off and her healing scratches are visible.

And Malice proclaims, "Ah, Her Highness, Alice! You're slightly too late. I've already completed this square."

Malice's eyes flitter suspiciously about. Alice wonders if Malice will attack her.

Tension fills the square.

But the Tinkerer interjects to quell fears, by saying thusly: "'Tis folly to attack each other, for 'twould be quite against the rules, and I would not abide it. 'Twould be folly."

From between clenched teeth, Malice says, "So if I broke her throat?"

The Tinkerer answers, "You would forfeit the game. 'Twould be so not worth it."

"Stop saying 'twould," Alice mutters.

Alice had not been expecting to land on the same square as Malice. And she especially hadn't expected to do so without a fight ensuing.

Malice hadn't expected such, either.

Curious, they both think at the same time. Now they glare at each other.

The Cheshire Cat shouts, "I want to see a catfight! Mreow!"

Alice is looking at Malice, wondering if said catfight will erupt, but now she can't help but notice the Flamingo staring at her with a slack-jawed look of horror.

Finally, Alice can abide it no longer, so she turns to him and shouts, "What?!"

He stammers a bit, but finally speaks. "You're Alice, of the black black heart." He starts shuddering.

"You're scared of me? Surely you must be joshing me, for 'twas Malice who killed you." Alice realizes that she had said 'twas because the Tinkerer's 'twoulds rubbed off on her, and she's not proud of it.

The Flamingo says, "Yes, but she is merely heartless, sort of like a wild animal. She can't really be held responsible. But the blackhearted take pleasure in pain."

Alice huffs. "What? I overheard you even call Malice 'Our Lady of Pain'."

Malice, meanwhile is chuckling.

Now the Tinkerer interjects. "For some," she says, "pain is pleasure. At least according to my favorite poet, Algernon Swinburne."

The Flamingo rolls his eyes, says, "Not Swinburne again."

Malice says to the Tinkerer, "Now that is an intriguing concept. How can pain be pleasure? I seek to avoid pain."

The Tinkerer rubs her chin. "I've been trying to sort that out myself. It's a fascinating puzzle. A conundrum even."

Alice says, "Well, melancholy can be sweet, I've found..." But now she shakes her head. Oh, what am I doing? Enough of this rubbish. I must win this game. And I know the way to help me win. I need only trick, I mean, convince Malice. Alice says to Malice, "I have a gift for you. Something I won on a square of this game..."

"Oh? What is it?"

Alice reaches into her dress pocket and pulls it out. "A ticktock heart." The contraption gleams in the light.

The Tinkerer squeals. "Yes, it's good to share. I made that," she says, pointing.

Malice says, "Oh? Then I have no doubt it is a most marvelous intervention. So you want me to put that into my chest?"

Alice nods.

Malice says, "Why? Why didn't you use it?"

Alice thinks for a moment of what to say.

Alice is not about to say what she is thinking, which is that if she can convince Malice to take on the heart, the kindness subroutine in it might put Malice at a disadvantage in the game. She says instead, "I'll sell you the heart for 250 quid."

Malice says, "Ah and there we have the the real reason. Who says I want that trinkety thing, anyhow?" Malice doesn't say what she's thinking, which is that she's secretly jealous of those who have hearts, and wants to have one of her own, just for a little while, just to see what it's like.

Alice shrugs. "250 quid."

Malice says, "200."

"Deal."

So Alice hands the heart to Malice, who hands her coins to Alice.

The Tinkerer giggles. "Oh, so will you put the heart in now? I can't wait!"

They set about doing so. The Tinkerer presses a button to release the Flamingo from his chains, then they borrow the Flamingo's hat. Alice brings out the Thirteen of Heartless card and begins to play against Malice in the game of Toss the Card in the Hat, which they need to play in order to invoke the card's rule about putting hearts in or taking them out.

Within minutes, Malice is holding the glowing metal heart and pressing her hand into her chest—it feels almost as if she is pressing it into sand. She pushes it to where she feels her heart should rest—it doesn't quite feel right, so she adjusts her fist a little, now she opens her hand and feels the cold metal settle into place. She breathes a sigh of relief, now pulls her hand back out.

"You realize," the Tinkerer says to Alice, "you committed an act of kindness by giving her the heart."

Alice says, "Oh, bother," as she feels the warm feeling in her heart.

Malice, meanwhile, presses her hand against her chest and feels a grin stretch up her face as she feels it tick-tick-ticking. She laughs and peers at her side in an exaggerated manner.

Alice says, "What's that?"

Malice jokes, "I'm a windup girl with a ticktock heart so—" Malice's eyes go into a far away stare as she freezes in place with her head still turned to her right.

Alice, who had been waiting for the end of the sentence, prods, "So?..."

But Malice doesn't respond. Inside of her is a crackling sensation, like an intense static electricity, spreading out from that tick-tick-ticking heart. Now it hits the outside of her brain. It feels as if large holes are exploding in her head, letting through...information...data...protocols. The neural feedback systems begin informing her of what is happening, in a stream of data.

The algorithms begin to reassert control of her sensorimotor functioning.

"Quick!" the Cat shouts to Alice. "Swat her head off!"

"Hush you," says the Tinkerer.

Malice straightens up into prim and proper posture. Her hands drop to her side.

She stands creepily still, all the while with that vacant expression.

Alice, meanwhile, is observing her. She notices that Malice hasn't seemed to have blinked in quite a while, unless she managed to blink at the same time as me. And she's also breathing quite shallowly.

Tentatively, Alice says, "Malice, are you okay?"

But Malice doesn't respond, being too busy staring straight ahead and standing rigid.

So Alice turns to the Tinkerer and says, "What's happening to her?"

The Tinkerer shrugs. "A meld of sorts. But I'm unsure of the details. It's never been done before. It's fascinating to watch."

And though none outside can see, inside of Malice the tumult continues. It feels as if telegraph switches click on in her brain as the Ticktock Heart connects with it and fills it with strange ideas Malice has never experienced before. Now she realizes what they are—algorithms and processes, organizational structuring, protocols of logic, segmentations of processing specializations...

Within the past few moments she has become a genius, she now realizes, able to calculate and analyze with the precision and logic of a machine.

My brain is smarter because of my heart. Curiouser and curiouser. I would not expect such a result but my anecdotal experience suggests that conclusion.

Malice finally moves, shifting her head slightly to examine Alice. Her movement is smooth and precise, unlike the twitchy, little girly way she used to move.

Alice stutters as she says, "Are you okay?"

Malice answers, "At this time, I am uncertain. I must further assess my state." She contemplates Alice.

The Tinkerer claps. "Oh goody, you're online! Recite pi to ten decimals."

Malice doesn't flinch or turn, just stays very still with a vacant look in her eyes as she states, "3.14159265353."

The Tinkerer, sounding offended, says, "That's eleven decimals! And the eleventh's incorrect!"

Malice says, "I know. But technically I did recite pi to ten decimals. You didn't specify only ten decimals be listed. A bit of a joke at your expense. I apologize!"

The Tinkerer laughs so hard her face turns red. "Ha! I've never met anyone with the same sense of humour as me! That was hilarious!"

"That's most unsettling," murmurs the Cat.

Alice and the Flamingo are watching on with their jaws dropped. The Red Queen stops running, and with a puzzled expression on her face, scratches her head, looks to Alice and shrugs. The lights dim slightly, and for a moment, things look like the inside of a room. Alice shrugs in return and the Red Queen resumes running, at which point the lights brighten again and the dungeon surroundings return.

Alice says, "So...how do you like your new heart? Feeling any...kinder?"

"No," Malice answers. "Emotions often lead to incorrect conclusions. Logic is a far better tool for decision-making and assessment, I daresay."

"I...see? Um, do you still want to kill me?" Alice is fishing around, trying to figure out if she can uncover this "kindness subroutine" the Tinkerer was talking about.

"My assessment of the desirability of your existence is incomplete."

Alice sighs. "You sound like a automaton."

The Tinkerer says, "But enough of this. Let's get on with the game! Alice, since you landed on a square that's already been solved, you get to roll again."

Alice stiffens and smooths her dress. "Quite right. Let's get on with it then."

The dice reappear, she rolls them, and they come up as 4. And so she hops off to her next square.

Chapter 55 A Flamingo Analysis

Now that Alice and the Tinkerer have left the square, Malice contemplates the Flamingo, cocking her head slightly from side to side while the rest of her body stays still.

The Flamingo says, "My Queen?"

"Merely observing. The notion of deriving pleasure from pain that was mentioned, is a most intriguing concept. It is counterintuitive, don't you agree?"

The Flamingo appears nervous. "Yes, it's a silly notion of the likes of that balderdasher, Algernon Swinburne. A second rate poet. A 'Decadent', they call themselves, shouting fool notions of pain being pleasure in childish attempts to be outr'e."

Malice says, "And yet, I have heard tell of those who engage in such practices—the elicitation of pleasure from pain, that is. I've heard of those who derive pleasure from spanking, being bound, strangulation even." Her eyes rake over the Flamingo's long neck in her analysis.

The Flamingo gulps nervously.

Malice watches as the bump of his gulp travels down, down his long curving neck, before he says, "Yes, they say Swinburne enjoys it. But his skills as a poet are—"

"I rather like Swinburne. It is my opinion that you should too." She arches a brow.

The Flamingo says, "I do. Now that I think of it, he's rather good. I think I must have confused his name with someone else. I say, you like Swinburne yes? Remember the poem I recited to you? Of Our Lady of Pain? I find I am again inspired by his verse, altered to accommodate your current...condition. Shall I recite it to you, My Queen?"

Malice doesn't smile, or even nod—she merely says in a cold voice, "I look forward to the influx of data such an occurrence would provide."

"Um...so...yes?" the Flamingo says.

Malice blinks, but otherwise doesn't move. "Yes."

The Flamingo seems taken aback, but now he nods and clears his throat and in his best oratorical voice, recites:

Ah, beautiful girl so terrific!

Who ticks with a metallic heart.

Though thy mouth speaks with words scientific,

That perplex from your being too smart,

You're kinder than blackhearted Alice,

Who wants to bring us all pain,

Oh, joyless, robotic Queen Malice,

With logical brain.

Malice processes the poem.

She nods. "I appreciate the meter and rhyme of it. It's quite a successful poetical utterance."

"Thanks?" says the Flamingo.

"You're welcome. It is correct in its assessment that I have no interest in causing pain, for its own sake—not unless there is a logical reason to do so."

"I am so glad to hear that, My Queen."

"Yes." She cocks her head at the Flamingo, analyzing him. She moves to stand before him. "I am currently pondering what you said earlier, about pain being pleasure. I find it a perplexing concept. I require more data."

"Data, My Queen? I'm afraid I don't understand what— Ah!" At this point, the Flamingo yelps out as Malice quickly places her hand to the back of his neck and yanks him forward. Now she clamps her hands around his neck, choking him.

In a calm voice, Malice says, "I've heard some masochists enjoy being choked. Tell me, do you find this pleasurable?"

The Flamingo merely stares back with his mouth held open, his eyes starting to bulge out a little.

Malice pouts slightly. "Ah, perhaps you are unable to speak. Merely nod if you agree. Are you deriving pleasure from pain? Or perhaps a small amount of pleasure with a lot of pain? Respond."

The Flamingo shakes his head no.

"Curious. Perhaps an experience of equal parts pleasure mixed with pain?"

Again the Flamingo shakes his head, "no."

"Curiouser and curiouser. How can pleasure be derived from pain? Perhaps more pain is in order." She head butts the bird, issuing forth a thud sound.

The bird's eyes rolls back and his head slumps before he weakly lifts it again.

Malice asks, "Any pleasure?"

The bird doesn't even shake his head this time, just stares ahead with eyelids half closed. He looks as if he is about to fall asleep.

"Hmmm. Lack of oxygen to your brain, I suppose. By the way, I do so enjoy your poems. Come, I shall try to compose one myself...

"How can one get pleasure from pain,

When there seems to be little to gain?

By engaging in this act of strangulation,

I begin my process of computation.

How can one get pleasure from pain?

Tell me, doth this, your passion inflame?

I wish to quantify with clear objectivity,

This most kinky, anomalous proclivity.

I stand here quizzically pondering,

As the focus of your eyes is wandering,

Wondering, why would one want pleasure from pain?

Why paradoxically moan as opposed to complain?"

The Flamingo's eyes close and his head slumps. This time he doesn't raise it again.

A sharp shrill cry of "Malice!" causes her to turn her head. She sees the Tinkerer, who shouts, "Let go of that boy this instant!"

She shrugs and lets go of the Flamingo, who flops to the ground and lays unconscious with the side of his face resting atop Malice's foot.

The Tinkerer says, "You shan't go killing that flamingo poet boy! He's the only one around here who knows Swinburne!"

Calmly, Malice says, "But I was collecting data."

"Of?"

Malice is looking down at the Flamingo while jiggling her foot beneath his head. "Hmm?" She says as she looks up. "Oh, I was exploring the conundrum of the pleasure-from-pain principle."

"Oh! Like Swinburne."

Malice feels the Flamingo moving his head slightly on her foot. "Yes." She looks down to see the Flamingo with his eyes open and a confused expression on his face. She says, "There, you see? He's alright."

The Flamingo coughs and breathes in and out heavily.

Malice says, "Come, I shall rouse him." She jiggles her foot, the Flamingo shrieks in dismay, and the Tinkerer crosses her arms with a peeved expression.

The Tinkerer says, "If you want to know about pleasure from pain, you should read more Swinburne."

"Your point is noted. But I haven't any copies of your pet poet." She looks down at the distressed bird. Now she lifts her foot up and down, and the Flamingo's head as well. "Oh, rouse yourself, bird!" The Flamingo squawks and presses his wings to the ground in order to stand up.

Finally! Malice thinks. "Here let me help you."

"Well," says the Tinkerer, "perhaps I can lend you my copy if you lose the game and shall be staying."

Malice has lifted the bird, who now stands dizzily blinking at her. Malice says, "Your copy? You have a twin too?"

"No, no, I was referring to my book."

"Oh, yes, that would be logical."

"You should be more kind," the Tinkerer says. She presses a button on the remote.

Malice stands up rigid and states, "Kindness subroutine has been initiated." She peers into the bird's eyes and attempts the human facial expression known as a smile at him.

"Ah!" shouts the Flamingo. "Your face!"

My attempt to smile soothingly was apparently unsuccessful. Perhaps I should try this... "There there." She taps him on the head twice, hoping she's applying enough force.

"Ow! Ow!" His head is jostled downward.

The Flamingo shouts, "Enough of this!" He says to the Tinkerer, "I did my part. Now can I go?"

She answers, "Very well." She presses a button and he disappears. "I've got to get back to Alice and the Tea Party. Now Malice, please do behave yourself on your square until it's your turn, won't you?"

Malice nods. "As you wish. I shall merely be contemplating the nature of my new mental processing." She royal waves.

The Tinkerer grunts and, with the press of a button on her remote, she and the Cat and the Red Queen disappear from view.

Chapter 56 A Cyber Tea Party

Alice hops past start—(The Tinkerer shouts, "200 quid for passing start!")—past the squares labeled Humpty and Troll's Riddle, then hops twice onto the square labeled "Tea Party" and the square expands to about 15 feet by 15 feet and the colors and shapes begin to fill in. She sees the a long table with three characters seated at it forming before her eyes. Looking down, she can now see the rest of the label on the ground—it says "A Cyber Tea Party". The coins for passing start appear at her feet and she absently picks them up.

And so she watches with dread as the characters seated at the table begin to become more distinct.

She bites her lip in worry. Who could be seated there? A bunch of corpses? Because all three of the characters usually seated at the table—the March Hare and Dormouse and Mad Hatter—recently died, though the Hatter seemed to have recovered. Perhaps the others have been revived as well, now she adds, hopefully. Hopefully. Yes, she nods to herself, because a part of her really does feel sorry they died.

Maybe my black heart is not so black after all.

During this time she has been thinking, the images have become clear.

The tea table is made of black onyx and brass with lines of blue rippling about of like ocean waves. The ground is of pure black with a scribble of yellow as if a child had drawn a yellow crayon back and forth upon it for a few seconds before growing bored.

Seated at the table, as if seated for their afternoon spot of tea are three rather woeful looking creatures who seem to be trapped inside metal contraptions holding them in place.

She recognizes the Mad Hatter. He looks uncomfortable and perturbed, held in the metal suit that holds his arms and neck and head. The odd constrainment device holds him from the back, leaving the front of him viewable, with a few straps and buckles here and there. To the left is a large rodent—is it the Dormouse? He's also held by a metal constrainment device. She squints her eyes. No, it's not the Dormouse. She gasps. It's the Groundhog!

She looks to the Hatter's right side to see that it's not the March Hare who is sitting there with his arms awkwardly held up in front of him by metal constraint. It's the White Rabbit, who happened to be the March Hare's nemesis.

And finally, Alice's eyes are drawn to the tabletop, where, amongst the teacups and teapot, and the pies and saucers as well, there is an odd brass replica of a large daddy long-legs spider. That had definitely not existed in the usual, real-world, or rather Wonderland-world version.

She's staring at it, trying to figure it, when the sudden voice of the Tinkerer causes her to jolt in surprise.

"I made a few changes," the Tinkerer says from the square's right edge.

Alice, feeling a bit too overwhelmed to come up with words, looks at the Tinkerer and says something akin to, "Euugh?"

To the utterance, the Tinkerer responds, "Yes, well the actual version of the tea table was rather...bland don't you think? I decided to take certain...liberties. To spruce it up, of course. Natural colors are so predictable and redundant. Why bother, I say."

Alice looks to the three seated figures at the table, who seem unaware of what's going on.

Alice says, "Very well. Speaking of differences—"

"Ah, yes, you may have noticed that they're not the original cast of characters. I admit, I had to make concessions. The Mad Hatter is the original one, because I managed to revive him. But I've had to employ stand-ins for the other two because they're deceased, you see. So playing the role of the Dormouse is the Groundhog—they're both rodents, by my figuring. And playing the part of the March Hare is the White Rabbit."

"But they both hated each other!" Alice protests.

"Yes, they quite did. But, rabbits and hares, what's the difference? I needed someone to play the part."

Alice raises her brows and gestures with her head at the contraption holding the White Rabbit in place. "He doesn't seem so happy about it..."

"Ah, you've an astute eye! I knew it wouldn't take you long to notice! Yes, all three are quite the uncooperative sort, especially for the game I have in mind. So I fitted them all with mechanical exoskeletons that will lock them in place and force them to move as I command. The game would not work otherwise. They would have rebelled."

"What game?"

"Ah, now we come to it. The game is called Russian Roulette. Have you heard of it?" And now she points at an object resting on the table that Alice hadn't noticed before. It looks like a pistol!

"Isn't it some kind of gambling game? There's a spinning circle and a ball that lands on a number and if you picked it—"

"Ah, yes that is the regular kind of roulette. Russian roulette is similar, but morbidly different."

"Vodka!" Alice exclaims.

The Tinkerer cocks her head. "What's that?"

"I remember me mum saying the Russians drink vodka. She said it's like drinking fire."

"Ah well, we haven't any vodka, just tea. Speaking of which, why not have a seat at the table and a spot of tea? You'll get to see my marvelous inventions in motion."

Alice points. "But there's a spider! I'm deathly afraid of spiders."

"Oh, that's not a real spider, my dear. It's merely a machine. One of my inventions. It's like a little servant."

Alice sighs. "Very well." She takes a seat on one of the eerily glowing chairs.

"Now, I shall turn on the perceptions of those three so that they may enjoy their beverages. But since I can't have them squawking, I shall take measures to ensure they're silent." And with that proclamation, she presses a button on the remote.

The three characters start blinking rapidly as they stare at Alice, but their hands and bodies stay still, locked in place, as it were.

The Mad Hatter proclaims, "Alice!"

And the White Rabbit says, "This kidnapping is making me late, for an important date."

The Groundhog doesn't say anything.

"Silence!" the Tinkerer shouts while pressing a button.

The three wince and yelp unsilently one last time. The Groundhog seems to want to say something, perhaps to state that he didn't say anything, but thinks better of it.

The Tinkerer looks at Alice, says, "I've told them if they don't obey my commands, I shall shock them."

Alice notices now that all the three seated characters are trembling. The White Rabbit, she notes, looks particularly distraught, with his eyes closed and his mouth held tight and crookedly. She has no problem admitting to herself that she feels sorry for them, and doesn't feel bad for feeling sorry for them—no matter what her heart is supposed to make her feel.

She feels particularly bad for the Hatter. She looks at his deep frown. Why do I feel this way? Maybe because he's the only human, or maybe because I've spent the most time with him, and am closest to him in a weird way.

She sighs. My heart be damned, but if I could set them free right now, I would.

The Tinkerer clears her throat. "I said, do you care for a spot of tea?"

Alice shakes her head out of her reverie, and in a reflex of politeness, says, "Yes, please, that would be delightful. Shall I pour it myself?" she says, looking doubtfully at the locked-in-place three characters.

"Oh no!" says the Tinkerer. "You stay right there, and prepare to be amazed!"

She presses a button on the remote. The metal spider rises up upon its spindly long legs. With sounds of clicks and whirs, it slinks toward the teapot, now uses two of its arms to lift the teapot by the handle while another holds it steady. Alice is amazed by the complex movements of this machine as well as by its strength.

It's so graceful, it almost seems alive, though its movements are slower and more methodical than an actual spider would be.

The mechanical spider makes its way to the cup in front of Alice and pours steaming tea into it, stopping its pouring at the proper level.

The Tinkerer says, "Sugar?"

"Yes, one lump please."

The spider goes to the sugar bowl, retrieves a cube and slips it in her cup, grabs a spoon and places it on the table beside her cup.

"Thank you," Alice says to the spider with a bow of her head.

"It can't really hear you. It's just a machine."

As Alice stirs her tea she says, "Yes, well, in any case, it's best to maintain one's manners, don't you think?"

The Tinkerer's reply is, "As you wish."

Meanwhile, the metal spider is scurrying about the opposite side of the table, pouring tea for the other three.

I wonder how they shall manage to drink it? Alice thinks to herself.

The Tinkerer looks off to the side. "Excuse me one moment—Malice is choking the flamingo. Be right back." She presses a button and disappears from sight.

Alice patiently awaits the Tinkerer's return.

"Sorry about that," the Tinkerer says. "That's what I get for forgetting to blank everything before I leave a square. So where were we? Oh yes, sugar." She presses a button.

Alice blows upon her tea, before taking a sip. "My, this is quite good."

"Yes, well it is virtual reality tea, so only the best, I say."

Alice is watching as the mechanical spider is plopping one cube of sugar in each of the cups.

After plopping a sugar cube in the White rabbit's cup, the spider returns to its original position on the table, lowers its legs and goes still.

The White Rabbit is frowning. He says, "I would like to request a second lump of sugar, please. I like my tea very—"

"Silence!" shouts the Tinkerer, and the White Rabbit grimaces and grunts, but otherwise doesn't move.

She must have pressed that button again. I wonder if it is labeled, "shock" or somesuch.

She gestures at Alice. "Go on, enjoy."

Alice guiltily takes another sip of her own. It's really quite good. Although, it's supposedly virtually good, so maybe it's not really good, maybe it's only virtually good.

Best not to think too much on it, perhaps.

Alice smacks her lips and tips her cup at the Tinkerer. "It's an exquisite blend, my dear."

The Tinkerer bows slightly. "Why thank you dear. I designed it myself, within the virtual reality parameters. At first it wasn't quite to my standard but I tweaked its sensory output until it was perfected. Quite proud of it, I am."

Alice takes another delightful sip and nods and hmms her agreeance.

The Tinkerer nods and hmmms back. "And now!" she announces, "Watch my exquisite machinery in action!" She presses a button and now, with whirs and clicks, the right arms of the three characters begin to move in completely synchronized motion as the rinky dink song of Pop Goes the Weasel plays, as if it were coming from a wind up jack-in-the-box toy. The arms lower in a mixture of jerky and smooth motions combined, glide out to grasp the cups at the same time. The expressions on the faces of the three seated characters look quite cringey.

Obviously they're upset to find their arms moving of a will all their own.

Their arms slowly raise in time to the song—Alice forgets herself, and out of habit, at the end of the song, she shouts along, "Pop goes the weasel!" as the hands of the three tilt back to the three's mouths. The Mad Hatter is ready with his mouth open and the tea splashes sloppily into his mouth as well as some upon his face.

The White Rabbit and Groundhog seem to be trying to turn away, with their lips held tight and so the mechanized arms only succeed in splashing the liquid across their faces.

What a waste of good tea.

The Groundhog whimpers. "Why? I'm just a groundhog."

The Mad Hatter swallows and says, "Mmmm."

The White Rabbit pouts. "I said I wanted two lumps."

The Tinkerer arches a harsh brow. "Two lumps on your head? It can be arranged."

And now the Mad Hatter adds, "It is most delightful. I can die now."

The Tinkerer says, "And well you might. So now I have demonstrated that I am in complete control of those three's arm movements, though not their mouths. After all, it seems you can lead a groundhog to tea, but you can't make him drink."

The Groundhog merely whimpers.

The White Rabbit mutters, "Well I would drink, if I had the required amount of lumps, and no, not head lumps." Alice imagines that if he could, he would cross his arms, but seeing as how he is mechanically constrained, he does not.

The Tinkerer says, "Yes, well now that I have demonstrated my control of your movements, that brings me to the task at hand and the challenge of this square. Now let us revisit the game of Russian Roulette."

Chapter 57 Russian Roulette

The Tinkerer points. "You see that pistol there? It is not an inferior, old-fashioned single shot flintlock pistol, oh no. Technology progresses, and what you see is a pistol capable of holding and firing six bullets before needing to be refilled again."

Most everyone gasps, two of them exclaim, "Six?!"

"Yes, six. The gun is called a revolver, because the bullets are held in a container that revolves each time the trigger is pulled. I admit, I could have made a laser pistol, but that wouldn't have been quite the same. Not as traditional. So there is the revolver. It may only be a virtual gun, but believe me, it is quite capable of killing you for real, even though the creatures of Wonderland have a bad habit of coming back from the dead, though I have a hard time fathoming how one could rebound from having one's brains blown about."

At this point, the Tinkerer looks to her right to see the Cheshire Cat excitedly bouncing within his confinement. "Oh, the Cat does so much like the idea of flying brains smashing about. Good thing he's on mute, don't you think?"

Alice shrugs.

The Tinkerer says, "Well I think he's quite a sicko. Like all cats. If you died, they'd eat your face for food—they don't care. But in any case, to the matter at hand."

Alice snarls. "Yes, let's get on with it..."

"Very well. In the game of Russian roulette, there is a revolver with six chambers. Only one of them has a bullet. The player who goes first, spins the revolver, points the gun at his head and pulls the trigger. There is a one in six chance he shoots a bullet into his head, right? But in this version of the game, those are the best odds. If the gun doesn't fire, he hands it to the one on the right. The chances of the bullet firing become one in five. If it doesn't go off, so it continues, the odds getting worse and worse. Eventually, someone loses. It's an odd game, don't you think?"

"To what purpose?" Alice says.

"Well, I would think the players all hate each other and wish each other dead. There is no other use for the game. Other than for the amusement of a sadistic gamemaster that is, like me. So, in any case, the challenge of the square is to offer you a choice."

"Choice?" Alice says.

"Yes, in this square I offer you a choice to decide which of these three to go first in the game, keeping in mind that the one who goes first will have the best odds. I want to make it clear that only those three will be playing and you will be watching. Once you make your choice, you will be rewarded the Vorpal Fist, a weapon of great power."

Alice's eyes light up at the mention of weaponry. But quickly, guilt overwhelms her, which confuses her. Why am I feeling this way? I thought I was blackhearted! Shouldn't I revel in being in control of the life and death of others? But no, she shakes her head, I don't feel right about this. She actually resents being manipulated into choosing. "They won't stop pulling the trigger?" she whimpers.

The Tinkerer answers, "If you make the choice, eventually someone will lose."

"A sorry lot, they are. Even the White Rabbit. Such vicious things he did to me."

"So whom do you hate the least? They would go first, I should think."

Alice ponders while the three look on, imploring pity with their eyes. She has a particular fondness for the Mad Hatter. Sure he'd taken pleasure from her pain, but he'd never actually done anything terribly bad to her, and she feels guilty for snapping his neck. So perhaps I should choose him to go first. But then again, if I choose him and he shoots himself, I shall feel terrible.

But now she screws her mouth up in determined defiance. "And if I refuse to make the choice?"

"Well, you shan't get the Vorpal Fist, and if the game is to proceed, someone must decide and that someone would be me."

"Well, I object to the game on principle!" And now a surge of warm pride rises in her chest. "None of them deserves to die. Punished, mayhaps, but not killed. Therefore I choose for none of them to go first, and I demand that you call off this sick game!"

Alice crosses her arms and feels the warm sensation grow warmer and looks down at her chest, but it's not glowing as she expected it to. A puzzled expression crosses her face.

The Tinkerer peers at her. "My, my that's rather righteous of you. Perhaps your heart is not so black after all. But then, who are you to demand I stop? You are merely a player in my game. Perhaps you'll reconsider." She taps her chin. "But if I were to choose, whom would it be?"

Alice says, "I implore you. Put a stop to this. They don't deserve this." She looks at the chattering and trembling of the three and she feels pity in her heart for them.

"Now you're imploring? I think..." She rubs her chin. "If I were to choose, I would choose...the Hatter!"

"Please, I ask of you not to do this!"

"Ah the magic word. You're being more congenial." She shrugs. Pushes a button. The mechanical spider clicks and whirs into motion, picks up the pistol.

Alice watches in horror as it spins the bullet cylinder. "Please! I beg of you, stop!"

The spider places the gun in the Hatter's hand. The exoskeleton forces his fingers to hold it. The Hatter is trembling and looks horrified. He tries to put on a brave face, as he says, "Who knows, maybe I'll miss. I've only half a brain."

Alice laughs in sympathy as her eyes well with tears. She whimpers, "Please..."

The Pop Goes the Weasel song begins to play as the Hatter's mechanized arm slowly raises the gun.

"However," the Hatter continues, "half a brain is still more than the rodent there."

"Hey!" the Groundhog shouts.

Alice loses all control. "Please, I beg of you to stop it! I'll do anything you want!" The tears are streaming down her face and she's taking big gasps of air.

The Pop Goes the Weasel song continues, the arms of the machine holds the gun with the barrel pointing upward.

"Stop it?! Stop it??!" the Tinkerer says, as the arm presses the gun to the Hatter's temple—he closes his eyes and it's almost the end of the song.

"Very well," the Tinkerer says. Now she hops up and shouts along, "Pop goes the weasel!"

The Hatter winces, just as Alice herself does. Alice is hysterical now, breathing fast, her heart racing.

But there's no boom or click. The arm never pulled the trigger.

The Hatter opens one eye tentatively.

The Tinkerer meets Alice's eyes, says, "You pass."

Alice wipes her cheeks. "What?" she says as she reflexively presses her hand to her chest. Her heart is feeling warm again, but oddly good and it makes her smile.

The Hatter opens his other eye and grins, "I say, the arm has quite got the aiming part down, but is perhaps dodgy on the concept of how to work a trigger. Here's a quick instruction: pull." He chuckles.

The Tinkerer says, "Don't push your luck."

He replies, "Well if you asked me to pull it, I would certainly do a better job of it than this machine arm here."

The Tinkerer rolls her eyes and looks to Alice again.

"What did I pass?" Alice says.

The Tinkerer answers, "I wanted to see if you were capable of an act of kindness, whether you'd be willing to sacrifice for the sake of someone else. And you demonstrated that you are."

"Yes, that's rather strange, isn't it? I thought my heart had turned black."

"It did, but I've been working on a theory that a black heart might be able to be reversed, if that person commits acts of kindness."

"But a blackhearted person wouldn't do kind deeds in the first place."

"No, not unless they were forced or tricked..."

Alice finds herself beaming. "Why you little scamp! You made me do nice things!"

"Yes, it was an experiment."

"So am I cured then? My heart's all red?"

"No, I doubt it works that quickly. I think your heart must still be partially blackened, but given enough time and good acts, it might go all red. But it's still an experiment."

Alice nods. "Well thank you."

"No problem at all my dear. I did it merely out of intellectual curiousity."

"So you say." She winks.

The Tinkerer doesn't respond to that. She says, "So are you ready for your prize?"

"Sure. I still get it?"

"Well, yes, you made your choice, didn't you?"

She presses a button on the remote, and a circle opens in the floor in front of Alice. A pedestal slides up with a metal object on top of it.

Looking down at it, Alice sees that it is a black metallic glove adorned with sparkling red heart-shaped rubies.

"Behold!" the Tinkerer proclaims. "The Vorpal Fist!"

Alice lifts it up. "Ooh, it's pretty. Does it do anything special?"

The Tinkerer says, "The Vorpal Fist has an uncanny ability to seek out the hearts of adorers, to punch in and rip their hearts out and show it to them before they die. But it only works if the wearer has a black heart, or maybe at least a partially blackened heart. In any case, I wouldn't put it on unless you plan to use it. And also I present to you, a companion. The Mad Hatter to help you in your hunt. With him by your side, I'm sure you'll have a greater chance of finding the Snark."

Alice feels a little thrill go through her. She's always kind of had a bit of a crush on the Hatter, despite her once having snapped his neck. But she tries to hide her excitement. "Okay, if he wishes to."

The Tinkerer says, "Hatter?"

He beams his charming smile. "Oh, I'd be glad to help her find the Snark. She's gonna need it, because she'd have a hard time finding her own head if it weren't attached."

Alice frowns a little.

The Hatter says, "Oops. Just teasing a little."

Alice puts on an uncertain grin. Had the Hatter always been that, for lack of a better word, snarky? Oh, but he's just teasing me, and he's so gosh darn cute!

"Wow, you're annoying when you talk," the Tinkerer says. She presses a button and mutes him. "Well, pardon me, but it's Malice's turn. Oh wait, I mustn't forget to clear the square before I go!" She presses a button and she, Red Queen, Cat, and the Groundhog and White Rabbit pop out of view, leaving Alice with the Hatter seated at the table.

Alice shouts, "Hey wait, you forgot to release him!"

Alice looks at him and shrugs.

He rolls his eyes and says something that's perhaps rude, but she can't hear.

Chapter 58 The Wingless Butterfly

Malice rolls the dice. The chance event result is 7. She passes start, at which the Tinkerer yells, "200 quid for passing start!"

She lands on a plain black square marked, "Butterfly". The square expands, and now Malice gazes in calm contemplation at the sight before her.

It takes a few moments for the details to fill in. Now she sees a large wingless butterfly floating in place, wearing some sort of fire-spewing backpack machine. The machine sways slightly while making sounds like a blowing furnace. The machine seems to be tethered by some sort of gray rope attached to a pole. The rope is obviously fire proof because it's attached to a point right behind the flames. The flying machine is straining at the rope as if trying to fly free. The insect's face is set in nauseas unease. He's wearing a monocle in one eye.

Metal arms project from the sides of the machine to two of the butterfly's arms, where there are joysticks and buttons. Malice deduces that is how the insect controls the machine.

She also notices something else most curious: a gray piece of spongy material is taped to the butterfly's side with long copper wires sticking out two ends—one end leads to the Butterfly's forehead, where it is taped there, the other end leads to the top of the machine—another piece of tape affixes it in place there.

Most curious.

From the right side of the square, the Tinkerer says, "I'm hoping you can help me with a bit of a predicament." She nods at the insect with the wide eyes who looks like a tether-ball flapping about in a fierce wind. And the bug is muttering to himself, "Whoa, whoa" and groaning most pitifully.

"Who is that?" Malice asks as she bends to pick up the quid that have appeared at her feet. The square has filled with a plain gravelly field. She sees a small black cylinder on the ground beside the coins.

"Why that is the poor little, well he used to be little, Wingless Butterfly. I have temporarily enlarged him using mushroom enlargement technology to aid the procedure. He's the former caterpillar who used to sit Alice on his lap and have her partake of his hookah. I was just trying to help the chap out." With her eyes she indicates the flame-spewing machine.

"He doesn't seem to be in very good control of that whatever it is machine."

The Tinkerer winces as if the words struck her. "It's called a jet pack, and I invented it myself."

At this moment the insect lurches sickeningly and lets loose a most lamentable yelp.

Malice smirks. "He doesn't seem to be appreciating it much."

The Tinkerer crosses her arms. "Yes, well it just has a slight design flaw. I can hardly be faulted for forgetting. I mean I have so many things on my mind. I've invented so many inventions these past few days, all of them brilliant. I am bound to forget one or two things, out of thousands of things. Thousands. Millions perhaps!"

Malice arches her brow. "What did you forget?"

"Okay, first of all, it's not a major mistake. The Butterfly begged me to invent something to allow him to fly after Alice cut off his wings. And I did that. It works even better than his old wings! Because the jet pack can fly higher, thousands of times faster—it can even break the sound barrier, did you know that?"

Malice is at a loss for words, not really knowing what that means.

So the Tinkerer explains, "At its maximum setting it can fly faster than the speed of sound! And since it runs on nuclear power, it can run for thousands of years without needing fuel."

"No coal?"

"No coal."

"Ah but you forgot to tell me what you forgot..."

The Tinkerer crosses her arms and shivers. "Okay, well my jet pack is brilliant. Much better than wings. I was simply distracted. I simply neglected to include—and I can hardly be faulted, for the invention is so brilliant, why would one even want to do so,—but I forgot the tiny matter of including a way to turn the jets off."

Malice sees the Cat chuckling silently in his containment field.

Malice laughs. "You mean to tell me there's no off switch!?"

"Regrettably, no. And his velocity is currently at its highest setting, past the sound barrier. It was quite a feat to capture him, and tether him, and enlarge him, let me tell you. By the way, it was ingenious how I managed to enlarge him."

"Do tell."

The Tinkerer tells, "I discovered that if I run a positive electrical current through a piece of his special mushroom, it temporarily enlarges things. See the copper wires? As long as electricity flows through them, the jet pack and butterfly will remain enlarged. It doesn't affect the monocle though."

Malice arches her brow. "And if the current is cut off?"

"Then the jet pack and butterfly will instantly shrink to their original size."

"How instantly?"

"Instantaneously instantly. Why?"

"Just curious. What of the monocle?"

"Oh, that won't shrink because I originally made it at the size it is now."

"Curious."

"Indeed."

Meekly, the Red Queen says, "Excuse me, I hate to interrupt."

"Yes, what is it?" the Tinkerer says.

"I was just wondering, could I possibly use one of those jet packs to, you know, get to places faster?"

The Tinkerer rolls her eyes. "You've got nowhere to go! So, no. Please go back to your running, won't you?"

The Red Queen doesn't say anything in reply. She keeps running.

The Tinkerer says, "Now where were we?"

Malice says, "We're at the point where I ask, what does all of this have to do with me?"

The Tinkerer taps her fingertips together. "And this is the part when I ask of you a favor, based upon your specialized abilities."

"Yes? Proceed with your inquiry."

"I hope you will forgive me for using the game to encourage you to do the task. I doubt you would, otherwise."

Malice shrugs. "It is logical for you to do so."

"Yes, quite. Well the challenge is this." She points to the small black cylinder on the ground. "That is a laser scalpel. It's like a razorblade, but it uses concentrated light to cut. It is ideal for surgery because its heat seals the wound to prevent bleeding and infection."

Malice says, "Intriguing." She kneels to pick up the scalpel.

"Yes it is. The suit and scalpel is not a part of the virtual reality. It is real. I made a promise to the Butterfly that I would do my best to come up with a way to allow him to fly, a way that he could control. I gave him the jet pack—my goal was to turn him into what I like to call a cyborg—his body would be melded with the machine so that he could control the jet pack with his thoughts. However, I couldn't pull that off. I gave him those joystick controls until I can figure out how he can control the machine with his mind. With the aid of the mushroom driven enlargement technology, I melded his body into the insect sized machine, but I ran into some...difficulties. Seems it was a bit harder than anticipated. I would have liked to make some alterations to fix it, but the Butterfly complained. He wants organic wings, he says, despite their inferiority."

The Tinkerer sighs. "I still feel bound by my promise. I never break a promise. The Butterfly was really quite adamant in his protestations. He's really quite an obnoxious fellow. All the jet pack needs is a few tweaks, I'm sure of it. It's a marvelous machine."

"I concur. It's a marvelous feat of engineering."

She smiles big. "Why, thank you! But does he appreciate it? Nooooo...I even made him a special monocle, which he didn't like either. And did I mention he's a jerk? Wants me to grow him a new hydroponic garden of live talking flowers so he can smoke their spice. He doesn't really deserve my technology if you ask me. So what I want, what the challenge of this square is, is to cut the Butterfly free from the jet pack, using the laser scalpel and monocle."

Malice's thought algorithms quickly assess the situation and attempt to incorporate the kindness subroutine. The Butterfly is obnoxious, and the Tinkerer actually seems bothered by the thought of dealing with him anymore. In my analysis, she subconsciously does not want to fulfill her promise to him. Wouldn't it be an act of kindness to figure out a way that the Tinkerer can get out of her promise?

Malice calculates the probability of success of an act of trickery to attain the incident of kindness. Sometimes it is more kind to be deceptive. So Malice smiles, says, "It sounds more like you wish to cut the beautiful machine away from that obnoxious insect."

The Tinkerer chuckles. "Well, I suppose that's the more accurate way of putting it! If you cut the jet pack away—"

Malice, still calculating how to lead the conversation, interrupts with a friendly, "Yes, cut the jet pack loose!"

"Ha, cut it loose! I like that!"

"It would be like the machine would be escaping a biological whiny little insect!"

"Haha! Yes, he is one. He wants to trade my marvelous machine in for meager biological wings. It will be a challenge. I will have to figure some way to spur his body to initiate new growth." She sighs. "Biological systems are so messy. Not like machines at all..."

Malice, still trying to sound chatty, concurs with an eye roll. "I hear ya sister."

The Tinkerer nods at that. "Yes, sister."

Malice, still attempting her manipulative actions, chooses distraction. "What is so special about the monocle?"

"Oh? Did I not mention? It's another of my inventions. I have altered it so that it shoots out x-rays. By peering into it while pressing a button on it, one can see inside objects. It will aid you in your surgical procedure. Combined with your machine-like precision, I am confident you will pass the challenge. If you pass, the scalpel and monocle are yours."

"And if I fail?"

"You forfeit both objects and your turn will be over."

"And I am to believe you?" After the distraction, challenging her, also, is part of Malice's scheme. I have her right where I want her.

"Yes. I do not cheat."

"And you do not break promises, so would you promise me this..."

The Tinkerer motions with her eyebrows to proceed...

"Promise me," says Malice, "that if I cut the machine free, as you put it, you'll allow me to keep the monocle and scalpel." Malice hopes the Tinkerer's subconscious desires will cause her to pass over the loophole in what she just said.

"I promise. So shall we proceed?"

Malice nods, practices her organic-looking smile. "Let's." Meanwhile she's thinking, my little trick seems so far to have gone undetected.

"I shall now shift the Butterfly's virtual perception so that he can see and speak with us. Oh, and one thing—don't mention the word surgery. He'll freak out. He's deathly afraid of even the word." She presses a button on the remote.

During these next several seconds, the expression on the Butterfly's face shows he's intrigued, now surprised, now his eyes go wide and he looks madly about. "Alice!"

The Tinkerer says in a trying-to-calm-him voice, "You are still in the virtual reality, remember? I have just turned your sight and sound back on so you can see me, and Malice here."

"Malice?" he says.

Malice replies, "Yes, I'm Alice's twin sister, except she has a black heart, and I have no heart."

The Tinkerer jumps in, saying to the Butterfly, "Now you remember what we talked about earlier? Give your monocle to Malice so she can perform the um, procedure."

"Procedure?!" he shouts, sounding on the verge of an all-out panic.

The Tinkerer lifts her hands palms up and pushes at the air twice. "Now, now. She knows what she's doing—she's very precise, and it shall be over before you know it. Think of it as like you're being set free. Then you can get your biological wings you want so much. Won't that be nice?"

The Butterfly takes a deep breath and seems to calm significantly. "Yes, that sounds good. But I'm so so afraid of...I can't even say the word."

The Butterfly is terrified of surgery. Wouldn't it be an act of kindness to make it so he doesn't have to have surgery performed on him?

Malice says, "I shall set you free." And she tries out the beaming smile she's been practicing.

The jet packed butterfly smiles back.

"So give her the monocle..." the Tinkerer says.

The Butterfly snaps to attention. "Oh, yes, quite right." With one of his long insect arms, he grabs the monocle he's wearing. "Catch," he says, and tosses it to Malice, who catches it.

"Smudged a bit," she mutters. She rubs the monocle with her thigh. She holds it up and peers at it. Ah, that's better.

The Tinkerer says, "Quite right. So, I say now...be a good chap and try to remain still so that Malice here can do her thing and set you free."

At her self's mention, Malice grins broadly, hoping her dimples pop prominently. I say to myself, this whole biological notion of smiling is quite simple once you get the hang of it.

The Butterfly, with an alarmed expression, says, "I say, my girl, what's wrong with your face?"

Okay, perhaps not so much.

She makes a show of holding her hand over her forehead, now passing it over her mouth, and revealing an exaggerated frown instead. "Never mind that. I'm eager to try out this monocle. Now stay still..." She presses the button then lifts the lens to her eye.

"I'm trying! Now, mind the flames, girl."

"Yes, yes, I'm not an idiot." She has to position herself by leaning backward and stooping and looking up at the Butterfly's body. She closes one eye now to focus on what she sees. She sees a glowing green version of the Butterfly, and the shapes of his internal organs. She sees the absence of a heart in his chest and she sees how the machine melds into his flesh with several shallow rods into the sides of the Butterfly's body. "Why, how intriguing this is. I can see inside him!"

The Tinkerer says, "So now you can see better, yes?"

"Affirmative."

"So, when you cut, make sure not to get any of the machine! The flesh can heal."

In a panic, the Butterfly says, "Cut? Flesh?!" The suit warbles a little.

The Tinkerer says, "What? Forget I said that. She will—"

"Release him," Malice offers.

"Yes, release you. Think how great it will be to set you free. Close your eyes, breath. Relax."

The Butterfly does so, and his suit goes back to a steady hold. "Yes," he murmurs, "release me."

The Tinkerer peers at the Butterfly, now says, "Proceed."

Malice nods. Curious, she thinks to herself as she analyzes the penetration points of the jet pack's rods. She uses her analytical algorithms to calculate what incisions she would use. She has no doubt she would be able to perform them—the Ticktock Heart allows her to precisely control the movements of her body.

The Butterfly would survive and require a short period of healing to recover.

My, that was an invigorating challenge! It would have been quite an accomplishment to have gone through with it. But, I must commit my act of kindness.

Calmly, Malice three steps to the left and stands up straight. She presses the back of the laser scalpel and uses it to slice through the cord tethering the jet pack to the pole. It streaks off and smashes into the force field with a crash, and seems to vanish.

Malice stands with her hands at her sides. She touches her hands to her left arm and the outside of her right thigh and sees the blood on her fingertips. She deduces that the wreckage of the instantly shrunken jet pack must have ricocheted off the force fields.

The Cheshire Cat shouts what looks like "Woo!" but he's on mute.

The Red Queen has stopped running and is staring with her jaw dropped. The surroundings begin to dim and flicker.

The Tinkerer's mouth is hanging open as well. But now she closes it as she meets Malice's eyes. "I say, that was mighty impressive! But how did you know the bouncing jet pack wouldn't injure you...much."

"I didn't, but I was willing to sacrifice myself to commit an act of kindness."

The Red Queen now shakes her head out of her daze and begins running again. The surroundings begin to brighten.

Malice leans her head down and unsquinches her eye to let the monocle plop into her palm. She holds it between her thumb and forefinger as she holds it up. "So, I get to keep this, yeah?"

"What was that?"

"I passed your challenge. I cut the machine free like we agreed in your promise."

The Tinkerer looks surprised for a few moments, but now she grins, says, "Why so you did. You manipulated me masterfully. All due to my Ticktock Heart, I've no doubt. Why, I'm quite proud of myself right now." She appears to be holding herself in a manner that could be described as her hugging herself.

Malice says, "Well I shall be glad to see you really do keep your promises."

"Eh." She flaps her hand dismissively. "Oh, yes, yes, you can keep your trinkets. I shan't take them. As a matter of fact, I'm glad to be rid of that ugly insect. Such a nuisance, he was. But in any case, your turn is over. I shall return shortly. Cheerio."

A press of the button, the square goes blank and black and she vanishes.

Chapter 59 Humpty Dumpty

When the Tinkerer returns, she frees the Hatter, who begins to complain so annoyingly that the Tinkerer makes him vanish, "Until he can behave more appropriately."

Alice rolls the dice. And she rolls a ten, does a lot of hopping. She passes start again and lands on the Humpty square.

It begins to fill in with what the Tinkerer refers to as "virtual reality". As she waits, she sets the Vorpal Fist down and picks up the 200 quid she got for passing start.

She sees grass covering the ground and now a hole. It's a grave that looks familiar.

It's Humpty Dumpty's grave!

Alice recalls how she had flung him from a baby chair to be smushed up in the grave. It was an act of kindness to relieve him of his misery. When her heart had turned black she had been proud of killing him. But now she feels conflicted, with her emotions swinging from amused and proud to ashamed and sorry for the poor fellow.

What is wrong with me?

Now she sees something that wasn't there in the original—a podium with a box on top and a button next to the box. On the ground on each side of the podium are two tubes that look like telescopes aimed into the bottom of the grave.

The Tinkerer holds her arms up dramatically. "Behold, what thou hast wrought!"

"Yes, I flung him to his death, but I only did what he asked of me."

"Yes, and then you stole his arms to make wings!"

The Tinkerer nudges with her chin to over Alice's shoulder and with a fright, Alice reaches her hands over her shoulders to see if the arms are still taped there.

I thought I had removed them! Ooh how embarrassing it shall be if they're still there.

But now she sighs in relief as she realizes they aren't there. She says, "Ah, you had me going there."

The Tinkerer giggles. "So I did. You shoulda seen your eyes bug out. I thought they were going to explode." She mimics by bulging her eyes huge and puffing out her cheeks.

"Yes, well I'm glad I got rid of them. It was an awkward phase."

"Yes, and I think you really just forgot about them. So guard cards found them where you'd dropped them. Brought them to me. I put them in with the rest of Humpty's pieces." She makes a crinkled finger gesture at the grave, and Alice, taking the hint, leans over and peers in. And yes, she does see Humpty's arms resting atop the broken shell fragments, and she can also see his legs partially covered by the rubble.

Alice looks down at the eggshells scattered about the bottom of the grave. She feels sorry for him despite how despicable he acted, and she almost wants to cry for him. Indeed, if she would simply allow the tears to well up she could do so easily.

But then she would be making an embarrassing spectacle of herself.

The Hatter is peering down as well while holding his hat on and giggling. "I say, is that Humpty?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Alice says.

"What you so afraid of? He looks a bit out of sorts. Did he fall? He always did have a quite unbalanced sort of body. Oblong you see, oblong."

"Unfortunately, I killed him. But I did it to save him from suffering, at least that's what I told myself. And weren't you invisibled?"

The Tinkerer interjects. "Yes, she killed him. But she may be able to remedy that."

The Hatter is still looking down at the shells, with one eye closed, peering. "I say, do you think he might have been the Snark?"

"He doesn't look like a snark," Alice says. To the Tinkerer she says, "How can I fix him? Is that the challenge?"

The Hatter is muttering, "How do you know? Do you know what a snark looks like?"

She shakes her head at him, hoping he'll quiet down.

The Tinkerer says, "Your challenge is merely to make a choice on Humpty's behalf—of heart-havingness versus heartlessness."

Meanwhile the Hatter is muttering, "Perhaps you are the Snark," referring to Alice.

Alice snaps her head to him to see him pointing at her accusingly—he arches a brow suspiciously.

"What was that?" she snarls.

The Hatter huffs. "I say, it perhaps takes a snark to know what one looks like, don't you think? Therefore, you are undeniably the Snark. Case solved. Game over."

"You idiot! How could I be a snark? Do I look like one to you?"

"Since I'm not one, I wouldn't know. Would you?? Hmm??" And here he leans in and peers at her.

She is stricken by the odd out of place notion to kiss him, despite her fury, because she's happy that he's alive enough to even be accusing her. She realizes she's angry at him for not trusting her.

For, I'm not a snark, am I? Perhaps snarks don't realize they're snarks.

She opens her mouth to deny any snarkiness, when the booming sound of the Tinkerer clearing her throat thunders around and indeed, through them in the form of tickling vibrations.

"My," says the Hatter, "she must have turned the volume way up on that one, or else the frog in her throat is most exceedingly large."

The Tinkerer points in warning. "Quiet you. You don't want to make me mad, now do you? Do you?!" She glowers at him.

My, what an evil looking child, Alice thinks to herself.

The Hatter swallows hard, shakes his head, and makes a point of (silently) locking with invisible key the point where his two lips meet.

The Tinkerer adds, "I want you to think long and hard before you speak again, as I just might shock you if you prove too intrusive. Understood?"

The Hatter nods.

"Well," Alice says. "That's sorted, then."

The Tinkerer nods. "So, you'll notice the podium and the box. They are part of the challenge. Let's not dilly dally. Open the box or press the button, please. Malice must have her turn as well, you know."

"Yes, I know. So shall I choose which shall be first? Oh, it's like Christmas!"

The Tinkerer rolls her eyes, but giggles despite herself. "Yes, choose."

"I believe I shall go from small to big." And so she opens the small box. Inside, she sees a red cartoonish heart that looks like it was cracked down the middle at some point, but the crack has been sewn together with stitches. "Oh my!" She presses her hand to her mouth in shock.

"I took it from the Queen of Heart's safe, where she had it stored on one of the loooong shelves. She collects hearts, you know, right?"

Alice nods.

"Very good. Now Alice, my dear. I want you to know, that in the grave, those are the actual remains of said Mister Humpty Dumpty, whom you terminated."

Alice bows her head in shame.

"The only part missing is this." She shows Alice a piece of eggshell.

"Eh?"

"But fret not, for with my massive intellect and ingenuity, I have devised a way to reconstruct him, in a manner much more reliable and efficient than using all the King's horses and all the King's men, I might add. However, there is a bit of a catch, a bit of a choice I will present you with. You see, after the Queen of Heart's coup d'etat, I was provided the opportunity to peruse her collection of hearts. And amongst them, I discovered, much to my delight, Humpty Dumpty's original heart." She points at the box with the heart Alice is holding.

Alice gasps. "So does that mean it can be returned to him?" Alice's own heart is racing as she tries to grasp what that might mean.

The Hatter says, "Now if you could only find his brain." He promptly squeals and clamps his hands over his mouth.

The Tinkerer glowers at him, but despite herself, breaks into a chuckle. "Well, okay, that was funny. I'll overlook your occasional remarks, so long as they remain amusing."

Alice, meanwhile, is too lost in thought to be amused.

The Tinkerer considers her. "So about the heart. You have a choice. You might give it to Humpty, you might keep it for yourself...it all remains to be seen."

"Keep it?"

"Yes, perhaps you could use it for your own. It seems quite nice and red, not blackety like your own damaged one. Perhaps you might prefer a transplant. Or you might give it to our Mad Hatter here—he could use one to replace his black one. But you will have the opportunity to speak to Humpty about it yourself."

Alice looks doubtfully at the cluttered mess of shells below. "How—"

"Yes, I know what you're thinking, but I told you about my invention. It is this—a reconstructive algorithm." She points at the tubes aimed at the bottom of the grave.

Alice doesn't know what to say other than "Algorithm?"

The Hatter quips, "Whatever it is, I hope it's got more rhythm than poor dear Alice here—the poor girl can't dance for the life of her."

This elicits a chuckle from the Tinkerer. Alice is rather annoyed.

The Tinkerer explains, "Yes, an algorithm. It's like a computer program, using mathematics and formulas to put all the pieces of the puzzle together in a matter of mere seconds. Because that's what the Humpty fellow is right now, he's like one big jigsaw puzzle, except he's really not even that big. It is simple for the algorithm to figure how to put him together again. I've devised a levitation beam system that will raise all the pieces in the air and assemble them at my command. It's really quite ingenious."

"But what of his heart?"

"Well you may choose to put his heart inside him before he's put together, or leave it out, or choose not to assemble him at all. I shall leave the difficult choice up to you. That is the challenge. But first, I would like you to speak to him, to get his side of things."

The Hatter quips, "His side, I imagine, can only be sunny side down, my dear. He's a bit of a grump."

Another chuckle from the Tinkerer, "You're really quite funny."

"Why thank you, milady." He grins charmingly and bows.

"How would I get his side?" Alice asks.

"Quite simple. Press that button over there. There is a whole history behind Humpty's heart I'm sure you'll find interesting."

Alice eyes the button on top of the podium suspiciously.

The Tinkerer's response: "Go on, then. Have I not played fairly so far?"

Alice realizes that the Tinkerer is in control, and she can actually do anything she wants, even kill anyone at a whim, but so far, she seems intent on playing fairly. So Alice just decides to go ahead and walk over and she reaches out and slaps her palm upon the button. Intense beams of green light shoot out from the lenses of the devices that look like telescopes into the eggshells below.

The devices pivot upward and the eggshell pieces lift as if they're bubbles floating in the air.

Alice hears a humming sound, but she is not sure where it's coming from—from the energy beams or the machines themselves.

Alice gazes, says, "Wow."

"Quite impressive," the Hatter says, and the Tinkerer shoots him a look to quiet him.

The Tinkerer says, "Now watch as I initiate the algorithm." She presses a button and the pieces of the eggshell cloud begin to twirl and shift in the air. Several seconds pass as the form of Humpty begins to take shape, but the pieces don't fully join together, until now the image of Humpty is presented to them with various cracks and empty spaces where the pieces of him are suspended, but it is as if the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle are held a slight distance away from each other and not fully joined.

"Crikey!" Alice exclaims.

The Hatter claps with a smirk and expression that seems to say, "Look, I'm not speaking." But the Tinkerer does not even glance at him.

The eyes of Humpty slowly open. He looks dazed.

The Tinkerer says, "He exists in a quantum state of in-between, between being fully together and untogether. In this state he has limited awareness and consciousness—only the purest part of his self will be functioning. Interestingly, that means the part operating higher functioning tasks such as deception will not be functioning. Interestingly, that means he will not lie. You may ask him anything and he will answer truthfully."

The eyes of Humpty open wide in fear and gaze widely around, but he does not even seem to notice Alice and the Hatter standing before him—it is if he is blind. His mouth contorts into an expression of agony, but his arms and legs do not move other than seeming to bob slightly as if they were floating in water.

"Interesting," says the Tinkerer. "In this state of in-between it seems he cannot see. I thought that might be the case."

In a raspy voice that seems wracked with pain and torment, Humpty says, "What...What am I?" He seems not to be speaking to anyone.

Perhaps he is speaking to himself.

"A fat egg," Hatter says, and laughs. "Ow!" he says and twitches. Alice figures the Tinkerer must have shocked him.

The unseeing eyes of Humpty shift toward the Hatter, and now, as if he's a child trying out the speaking of a sound he says, "Oww...owwww."

Alice looks on in concern. "Is he in pain?"

The Hatter waves at the Tinkerer to get her attention and points at himself repeatedly as if to say, "What about me? And my pain? I just got shocked!" he pantomimes.

The Tinkerer presses a button and the Hatter disappears. She says, "I'll bring him back later. As for Humpty, I doubt he is aware enough to feel pain in this state of in-between, especially since he doesn't have a heart. He may however, be in discomfort."

Alice pouts a little at that, so the Tinkerer says, "However, we can lessen the time he feels it by moving on to the next part."

Alice arches a brow. "Which is..."

"To help you make your decision, I'd like you to hold his heart inside of him so that you may talk to him that way. You see, there is already an opening—see the missing piece that has been punched out? I've taken to calling it the heart piece."

Humpty moans and his eyes rove about madly, as he says:

I'm Humpty Dumpty, here on my wall!

I'm Humpty Dumpty, and I cannot fall!

...Into love, that is, for it will bring pain,

So I'll just stay heartless and full of disdain.

"Ah," the Tinkerer says, "he's so out of it, he thinks he's still on his wall. How cute. That's the version of the song he would sing to himself when no one was around, I've learned. He doesn't recognize that we're here."

"He doesn't want to fall in love?"

"It seems not. And who would?" She makes a face. "That's how one obtains cooties."

"Well, he doesn't seem to want his heart put in..."

"Yes, isn't that typical of the heartless? But you only need to do it a short while. Come now, be a sport."

"I—I don't know. I have to hold it there?" She feels creeped out by the idea.

"Well, you don't have to. But I think it would prove fascinating to speak to a Humpty Dumpty who has a heart, don't you?"

"Heart? No heart!" Humpty shouts.

Alice does feel that would be interesting but she gnaws at her lip in worry. "But what if I drop it?"

"Well, then I suppose the decision would be made—Humpty would get his heart back." She flips the piece of eggshell over and over in her hand.

"Okay, what's that then?"

"This is the piece that broke away when the girl punched into his chest and stole his heart."

"Hearts bad!" Humpty says.

Alice gasps. "Why would anyone do that?"

The Tinkerer smirks. "Why, indeed. It's really quite an interesting story. You should ask him about it."

Alice sighs. "Very well then." She approaches the floating, cracked man. The Tinkerer uses her remote to adjust the level of him, so now the hole in his chest is right there—she need only hold her arm out straight.

And so Alice takes the heart in her hand and straightens her arm to hold it inside Humpty.

The Tinkerer says, "Alice the stealer of Hearts, feeling any deja vu?"

"Hmm?" Alice says.

The Tinkerer says, "I mean to say, does that position you're in feel familiar?"

Before Alice can respond, her attention is taken away by the feeling of the heart warming up in her hand. She strains her head to peer at it—the inside of Humpty is empty except for her arm and the heart which is now glowing. She feels and sees it shudder, now it begins to beat. She is overcome by wonder.

Chapter 60 Holding His Heart in Her Hand

Humpty begins to moan as if in pain.

Alice looks at his face—he is frowning. He moans, "Allliiicceee..." as if the name torments him.

"Yes," she says, "it's me. Can you see me?" She tries to meet his eyes, but his eyes still rove madly about. "Can you hear me?"

He seems to react to that, focusing. "Hear?"

The Tinkerer says, "Perhaps he can recognize how you feel inside him. You've been there before, after all."

This time Alice manages to shoot a quizzical glance at the Tinkerer, who answers it thusly, "I've discovered in my investigations that Humpty has been keeping secrets, secrets about you..."

Alice doesn't know what to make of that. She's distracted by Humpty, who says, "I feel. My heart. Thumping. Pain."

"Oh! Am I holding it too tight?"

"No, other pain. That comes... that comes... from having one... from letting her... you... touch it."

"What do you mean?"

"I can feel you. Inside. I know it's you, Alice, but not you. Like me. I sense...I am...me, but not me."

"Yes." She feels pity well up inside of her. "You are in a state of untogether, in a state of in-between." She doesn't wish to extend his state of wretchedness any longer than necessary. "I want to ask you a question."

"What, you want my heart? Take it. You already stole it, well, you will steal it. I'll be killed by her one more time so I must make sure to get it right." Now as if reciting a poem he says, "The times she'll kill me shall be three."

Alice now feels thoroughly confused, "Killed by whom?"

He says, "By you who is not you, the future Alice, but we mustn't tell the before-Alice, must keep it a secret."

Alice looks questioningly at the Tinkerer, who says, "You must understand that he exists now in a state of pure thought—he's untogether, unformed—he may not even perceive himself to even be an entity. He may not even perceive that he and you are two separate people—he may even think that you are just a part of his own mind—like when a person is talking to himself."

"Odd."

"Indeed. Do continue. I know much of it already, but it's delightful to watch how it plays out."

So Alice says to him, "What's the secret?"

"I just told you. You'll kill me three times, according to the prophesy."

"What's the prophesy?"

He says, "It was told to me, thusly:

"The times she'll kill you shall be three,

According to the prophesy.

The third time, by the Vorpal Fist,

To add your heart onto her list."

Alice thinks about it. She realizes she has killed Humpty exactly two times. And with a sickly feeling she gazes at the Vorpal Fist upon the ground. "What happens on the third time?"

"I am saved...or damned. It depends. But don't you know? But no, I can feel." And now he takes a moment, as if trying to sense something. "No, you are the Alice of Before, not the Alice of After, right?"

"Before what?" Alice asks.

The Tinkerer claps and squeals, "Oh, you don't even know! This is delightful!"

He moans, his eyes rove around. "What time is this?"

"The afternoon. Why?"

"Noooo. How old is Alice?"

She is uncertain how to speak to him. He definitely is not experiencing things in a normal fashion. "I... Alice is 13."

"Ah, that is before 18 usually, if time is flowing the normal way. I may be saved."

"What are you talking about?"

"Time...before...future."

Alice sighs. In frustration, she looks to the Tinkerer. "What is he talking about?"

"Time travel. Humpty fell in love with a girl from the future and he traveled back in time because of it."

Humpty moans. "Girl...stealer of hearts."

Alice says, "A girl stole his heart in the future, I mean will steal his heart? Oh, it's so confusing. How is that even possible?"

"She showed it to me, before..." Humpty begins to cry...something she'd never seen before, but he'd always been heartless before.

"Oh, dear!" Alice tries to soothe him by stroking his face with her free hand, but he scowls, and shouts, "No! Don't touch me anymore!"

So she stops and looks to the Tinkerer for help.

The Tinkerer says, "The me of the future visited me yesterday. She invented a time travel machine, in the future. She told me what happens in the future to Humpty. A girl stole his heart before he traveled back in time to the present."

"Oh, my! Who would do such a horrible thing."

The Tinkerer smirks. "A girl they will come to call, The girl who will tear your heart out and show it to you before you die."

Humpty reacts to that with a moan. "Aliiiice...noooo..."

She looks at him. "Yes what's wrong?"

"Just take it. End the pain," He says, sounding defeated.

"Take what?"

"My heart. Like before."

A feeling of dread rises inside of Alice. "What are you talking about? I've never..."

Humpty is sobbing and whimpering. "End the pain...the pain."

With a malicious tone in her voice, the Tinkerer says, "That girl in the future who steals all the hearts, who stole his, it's you..."

"Me?! How?...Why?!"

Humpty is blubbering to himself, "She took it, but it took away the pain."

The Tinkerer says, "Five years in the future, the 18-year-old version of you allows her heart to grow black. She seduces and breaks the hearts of many in Wonderland. And when she is done toying with them, she pulls their hearts out and shows it to them before they die, using the Vorpal Fist."

"Yes," Humpty whimpers. "Showed it to me. I fell over."

Alice feels ashamed and horrified that she might do such thing in the future, but a part of her doesn't want to believe it and grasps for any holes in the story.

He is sobbing and she suddenly takes pity on him and pulls his heart back out. He immediately stops crying and his face goes blank.

Alice asks the Tinkerer, "But Humpty, how did he get a heart? And a red heart nonetheless? We live in a land of those who are either heartless or blackhearted."

"Yes, we will both be partly to blame. The future-me made a slight miscalculation in my manipulations of time—I caused causation to go slightly backward."

Alice says, "What? What do you mean?"

"You caused Wonderland to become blackhearted and heartless, because of what you do in the future."

"Huh? How is that even possible?"

The Tinkerer explains, "Well in my calculations, the future-me mixed up forward and backward at some point. And okay, I'll try to explain it. There are multiple versions of reality, and different versions of you. The future 18-year-old you grew up in a Wonderland where all the creatures had hearts. They were pleasant and kind. But in that Wonderland, you let your heart grow black and cruel. You seduced Humpty and others. In that Wonderland, Humpty wasn't an egg—he was a boy. But when you stole their hearts, and Humpty used the time machine to travel backward, things got a little wonky. Causation traveled backward and..."

"Wait, what?" Alice says. "You're confusing me."

"Very well. A short lesson. In the normal time stream, there is something called cause and effect. Something causes something else to happen. When time normally moves forward, effects don't happen before their cause, but because of my slight error in the time machine, after you killed Humpty and he used the time machine right after his death, well, causation went backward in time. So your actions caused all the creatures of Wonderland to become heartless and blackhearted in the past..."

Alice doesn't want to believe it. "That's impossible. Humpty's heart didn't disappear. I have it right here. And I would never...could I?"

"The future 18-year-old you did, and as to how the Queen ended up with his heart in the present, well, it's a bit convoluted and paradoxical, as things tend to be when one alters the timeline."

Alice is shaking her head in a daze. "Me? Seduce? Kill? I would never even, I mean he's an egg!"

"But in the alternate version of Wonderland, he wasn't, but oh, you don't have to believe me. Let's ask him ourselves. In his state of untogether, he won't lie. He doesn't even know what a lie is. Go on, ask him..."

"Humpty?"

"Yes... Whaaat? Aliiice." He seems a lot more grumpy now, but Alice realizes it's because she's taken his heart out.

"Is it true? Did I, will I kill you, in the future?"

He looks around blindly, confused. "Who?"

The Tinkerer suggests, "Use your name, it may help."

So Alice says, "Alice. Will she, did she—ooh, time travel makes it so difficult to say..." She thinks a moment. "18-year-old Alice, did she really pull your heart out?"

He answers, "Yes, broke it, tore it out." And again he repeats that rhyme, "The times she'll kill me shall be three." He doesn't sound sad though—he's stating it matter of fact. But he doesn't have his heart installed, she realizes.

Alice says, "She broke it? Why'd you let her?"

He shrugs. "She was beautiful, on the inside, and I fell in love with her. The only girl I ever let inside. But then she tore out my heart and left me empty on the inside. Ah, the irony."

The Tinkerer whispers, "I hate to rush you, but could you move it along? I'll give you a few minutes, then make your choice—assemble him or don't, give him his heart or don't. Thank you."

Alice prods, "You were human once."

"Yes, with a heart, before she stole it, before she killed me a third time."

"But you went back in time, why?"

"To fix things."

"How?"

"It's a secret."

Alice looks to the Tinkerer. "I thought he couldn't lie."

The Tinkerer shrugs. "A secret isn't a lie. I know the secret by the way." She sticks her tongue out at her.

Alice doesn't have time to get mad. She asks him, "What would you fix?"

"A secret," he says.

The Tinkerer giggles and covers her mouth with her hands.

"How did you change to an egg?"

"Alice changed me. 'You're such a pathetic egghead,' she said...when I traveled back in time, an egg is what I became." It was eerie to hear him so calmly say it.

He doesn't seem to feel.

The Tinkerer explains, "When the causation shifted backwards through time, your thoughts rippled through the past. The human Humpty Dumpty was what one would call a nerd. Your cruel last words to him changed things, and when he traveled into the past, an egg-man is what he found he was. After you had killed him."

"Yes, killed me, she did." Again he repeats lines of the poem, "The third time, by the Vorpal Fist."

Alice mutters to herself, "Quoth the raven, nevermore."

The Humpty says mechanically, "Raven was the color of her hair," as Alice says, "He's like the raven in that blasted Edgar Alan Poe poem, always repeating the same thing, but not explaining himself."

"Nevermore shall she hurt me," Humpty says blindly.

Alice huffs. "And he speaks about it all so calmly, like a typical Wonderland heartless jerk. But I've an important decision to make about his livelihood, and I need to hear him speak from the heart." And here, on a whim, she punches her arm out and holds his heart inside him again.

She feels it grow warm and beat as Humpty hisses and his eyes rove madly in pain. "Take it away!" he commands.

"No. Bear with me. I haven't much time. I have an important decision to make. I have the choice of whether to put you together again or not, and if I do, whether to include your heart or not. Do you understand?"

Humpty moans. "Yes, put me together. But leave my heart out. Take it away!"

Alice's brows furrow her forehead. "Why?"

"My heart, it brings me pain. I remember her. I loved her so much, and she broke my heart. I don't want the pain." He begins to cry.

Alice feels such pity for him. "But there were good times, right? You loved her once?"

"Yes, I loved her—there were good times, but then she turned cruel, vicious, betrayal." His voice is filled with misery. He blinks and his eyes focus on her. "I can see. I can see you now."

She smiles at him, but he recoils. He intones,

"She tore out my heart, and then showed it to me.

When I look in your eyes, it is hers that I see.

Assassin of love and the stealer of hearts,

An angel-faced master of boy-breaking arts."

And Alice feels such pity for him, but she can't help but think of the phrase, "it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." Now she realizes she said that out loud.

Humpty answers, "No, hearts are pain. Take it. Take it far away from me."

But the alternative to a heart, with all the pain it brings, is to be heartless and empty, never to feel, to hurt...or love again, nay, even to remember, deep inside, having ever loved before.

She shakes her head. "I know that may be what you want, but I can't bring myself to do that for you, for without a heart, yes you wouldn't feel the pain, but you wouldn't feel much at all except perhaps anger and hate."

"No, those are my wishes."

"I'm sorry, but I cannot follow them. I only want what's best for you, though you may not understand right now. I will reassemble you—"

He cuts her off. "No! Not with my heart inside!"

Alice feels overwhelming guilt. "I'm so sorry. It's for the best."

"No! Then I choose not to be re-put-together. Let me stay in pieces. Better to be in pieces and dead than to feel that horrible pain of having a heart! It is my wish! My life!"

Alice feels tears well up and now she is crying along with Humpty. Perhaps it's best he rest in peace, in pieces, in a pile where he can never be hurt again.

Humpty shouts, "I beg of you!"

And she almost gives in, but now she shakes her head as the warm tears roll and drop. "No," she says, "for despite all the pain a heart brings, it is better to feel something than to not feel at all."

"What are you saying?" Humpty says in a panic. "You're talking nonsense."

Alice looks at the Tinkerer. "I've come to my decision."

"Yes?"

"Put Humpty Dumpty together again, and leave his heart in."

The Tinkerer nods.

Humpty wails, "No! Stop this! It is my wish! Leave me broken!" He awaits her response.

"No," Alice answers, "it's for the best."

And as the Tinkerer fiddles with her remote control, Humpty shouts out, "No! You stupid bitch! Stop this now, or I'll kill you. You hear me?! I'll kill youuuuu!"

With sadness, Alice says, "I hope some day you'll understand. I did this, because I care for you." She looks to the Tinkerer who is watching with questioning eyes, offering Alice the chance to change her mind.

But she nods. The Tinkerer nods back, presses a button. The pieces snap closed as if suddenly pulled back by springs with a whoomp noise. Alice still holds his thumping heart through the hole in his chest where there's the missing piece.

Alice meets his sad eyes, says, "Should I leave the heart in?"

He whispers, "If you do, I will love you...and you will break me..."

Alice can't stand to look in his eyes, she turns her head and lets go of the heart and pulls her arm out.

As Humpty wails, the Tinkerer says, "You pass."

"What?" Alice asks.

"You could have left him dead—he wouldn't have felt anything, or could have left him heartless—still he would have felt nothing. But you chose to revive him with a heart and all the pain it brings, because it is the only way anyone can know love. You did it not out of cruelty, but out of kindness. You pass."

Alice tries to comprehend the words. Wasn't her own heart still partly black? But in any case she feels it grow warm and pleasurable. Because I committed an act of kindness! A part of her still hates Humpty but a part still cares about him.

Speaking of Humpty, she now hears his voice, sounding surprised. "Alice? Oh, Alice, it's you! I...care about you!" He sounds surprised.

She spies a glance at him. He's still an egg, not a man. What does that mean? Will the future still happen?

The Tinkerer explains, "He has regained full awareness, and now his heart beats within. See it?"

Alice looks into the heart-hole, trying not to meet Humpty's eyes. She sees his heart floating inside, thumping away.

"I shall replace the missing piece soon," the Tinkerer explains.

"I have my heart back?" Humpty asks. "Oh, thank you, whoever did it! I was heartless before."

Alice stares at the ground. "The Tinkerer over there explained to me what I did—the 18-year-old me, in the future. How she broke your heart, and stole it."

He replies, "Yes, 18-year-old you was so beautiful, inside and out. But she let her heart grow black. I tried to save her, but I couldn't. She was the only person I let inside, you know. That's why Malice was inside me—she is like the bad version of you, but she became a part of me because I loved her."

Alice looks at Humpty, puzzled.

He continues. "After 18-year-old you broke my heart, I vowed I would never let myself be hurt by love again. It's why I built my wall in the first place—it was symbolic—it was a wall I built to keep people away, and I sat atop it, away from others, while I vowed never to fall...to fall in love again."

Alice gasps in shock. "Oh, I'm so sorry 18-year-old me did that to you!"

"Oh, do not apologize my dear. You haven't done those things to me yet."

"And I promise I never shall!"

"You shall kill me three times."

"I shan't!"

"It is prophesied. The number of times is certain, all that can be changed is when."

"Never!"

"I can't change my fate." He laughs sadly. "Oh, my dear, it's the future. Some things can't be changed."

"But some things can! Now that I know these things, I can make sure things don't happen!"

He looks at her affectionately. "But in the future, I loved you. I have those memories. They'll always be a part of me."

Alice nods sadly. "But things will be different. I won't let my heart grow black. I'm already improving. I shan't kill you again, I promise, despite the prophesy. I'll prevent it somehow, I'll get rid of the Vorpal Fist..." Meanwhile Humpty seems to be holding his tongue, fixing her with an expression she can't fathom. Alice's eyes go wide in alarm, as she begins to panic. She looks to the Vorpal Fist—they said in the future, I killed him with Vorpal Fist—I need to get rid of it.

She picks the Vorpal Fist up. "Can I return this?" She tries to toss it up over the force field so it will land by the Tinkerer. Except it hits the force field ceiling which flashes green—the fist lands with a clank a short distance away.

As she looks at it, she hears a sinister whisper in her left ear, saying, "Dooo ittt..."

"What?" Alice says.

Humpty and everyone fix her with puzzled looks.

Humpty says, "What?"

The Tinkerer has a strange grin on her face. "You thought that would work?"

Alice suddenly realizes what's going on. She points at the Tinkerer. "Stop it!"

"Hmm?" the Tinkerer says.

"With your virtual reality. Stop the voice in my head."

Again she hears the whisper saying, "He'll hurt you. You must hurt him, and all of them, before they hurt you." She jerks her head. It feels as if it's coming from the glove. Oh, no.

She feels a cold sensation in her chest.

"What are you feeling?" Humpty asks, oddly calm, inspecting her.

Alice's mind races frantically, trying to put everything together. "You kept saying—you kept saying, that I would kill you three times."

"Did I?" says Humpty.

Alice gasps as she see the Vorpal Fist move—it rolls over, starts pulling itself by its fingers toward her, whispers, "Hurt him, before he hurts you."

"No!" Alice shouts to Humpty, "I mustn't kill you again! I won't call you an egghead! And I shan't keep that vile Vorpal Fist!" She points at it, and it keeps crawling toward her, it whispers, "All's fair in love and warrrrr..."

Humpty is calmly watching the fist crawl.

The Tinkerer says, "Wow, it's like a spider!"

A part of Alice is compelled to run to it, to slip it on, but she knows she must resist that urge. She feels a twitchy feeling in her chest as her heart grows colder. She realizes she must get rid of the Vorpal Fist. "Humpty, keep that thing away from me. Tinkerer! Please! Take it away!"

The Tinkerer shrugs. "I shan't. Because it must be done.

Alice says, "What are you talking about?!"

Meanwhile Humpty is just watching her calmly. "Why?"

The fist hisses as it crawls closer. "Kill him kill him kill him—tear his heart out!"

Alice is desperate. "Will you remove just the top force field so I can toss it over? Please!"

The Tinkerer nods. "If you wish." She presses a button.

And now Alice knows she must put herself at risk. She must lift up the Vorpal Fist and throw it over the force field—she knows her heart isn't fully black and she might be able to resist the allure of the fist if she's quick about it. She runs toward the fist, lifts it up—as she touches it, the urge to kill surges stronger and the fist hisses, "Tear his heart outttt."—it dazes her for a moment.

She hears Humpty scream in rage to her left and something hits the left side of her face hard. She stumbles into the ground, the Vorpal Fist slides a few feet away.

Humpty is towering over her. "You stupid brat! You wouldn't love me, so I'll force you!"

Alice is horrified. Through her sobs, she can only mutter, "Too young!"

Humpty kicks at her without connecting as she backs away from him on the ground, toward the Vorpal Fist. He follows her with his hand raised to strike again. She rolls over and lunges at the Vorpal Fist—her hand slips into its opening and she feels it latch on like a magnet snapping onto metal. A dark grin stretches her face as she feels her movements become controlled as if by a mind not her own.

She rolls to the side upon the ground—the feeling on her hand within the glove is cold to match her heart. She is out of Humpty's reach now.

He watches her with a stern expression, his stubby hands balled into fists.

Alice, kneeling on the ground, glares at him. She cackles. "Force yourself on me? You pathetic loser. You're not up to the task."

"Sure I am." He raises his fist. He didn't sound convincing. With a war cry, he charges.

Alice stands and runs to meet him, her Vorpal Fist rises up by itself—it effortlessly slips into the hole in Humpty's chest.

They slam into each other. Alice feels the breath knocked out of her, as they bounce off each other. Alice is whirled off her feet. Humpty topples backward off his feet as well.

Alice quickly regains her footing, her movements still don't feel her own—it is as if her heart is guiding them. She sees Humpty lying on his back with cracks and an Alice-shaped dent in the front. She turns her head and is surprised to see the Vorpal Fist holding a beating heart.

He is weakly trying to stand, looking dazed. Alice grins wickedly as she shows Humpty's heart to him. His eyes are wide with terror as he scooches backward feebly.

Alice says, "Aw, I've left you all empty again." She pouts. Now she shrugs, before tossing the heart away with the flick of her wrist. As Humpty struggles to regain his feet, Alice screams and watches as her arm seems to move on its own, watches as several downward smashes of the Vorpal Fist shatter his face. His arms and legs go limp—his sides and back are still intact but his front has been decimated. She looks over at his hear—it beats three more times and stops.

She stands in stunned silence. She can't bear to look at his body again. She is holding her hands at her sides—the Vorpal Fist slips off and clanks on the ground.

The Tinkerer sniffs. "So you gonna toss that glove over, or what?"

The times she'll kill you shall be three, Alice thinks as she lowers her head in shame.

"I say?!" Tinkerer says.

Alice kneels. With a shout of rage and sorrow, she rises and flings the blood-covered Vorpal Fist up—it sails over the force field wall, landing a short distance from the Tinkerer.

"Alright then," the Tinkerer says, "That's your turn. I shall attend to Malice now."

Alice is enraged. "I just killed him! Don't you care?!"

The Tinkerer arches a brow. "Whom did you kill, hmm?" She nudges her chin at the corpse, but Alice can't bear to look—she never wants to look at him again. The Tinkerer winks, presses a button on the remote and disappears.

Alice shouts, "Damn you! This is not a game!" But it is, and she shall have to wait her turn. She is saddened and angry that she was basically forced to kill Humpty, though a dark part of her is glad that at least if he's dead, he can't hurt me, can't break my heart.

She can't bear to look at the corpse, and looks down, but now she sees her arms are covered with dripping bright red blood. Blood? But there was no blood—he was an empty egg.

Now out of her peripheral vision she sees there is a lot of bright red...

She turns her head and looks and sees the mangled corpse of a young man, his face is punched in like a caved in mass of mangled meat, a gaping wound is open in his chest.

Alice's mind races as she tries to figure it all out. Somehow the future must have been altered. In the future, he doesn't get turned into an egg. She tries to ponder it more, but it's confusing and makes no sense and will give her a headache if she thinks about it too much.

Maybe in the future, he will never hurt me, and I won't steal his heart.

She picks his heart up. With trembling steps, she approaches the corpse, slips his heart in the hole in his chest. Now she lets the emotion of sorrow flood over her, making sure the tear drops that roll plop onto Humpty Dumpty. Her tears used to have the ability to bring back the dead—she hopes her heart is not too black to mess it up.

After having a good cry, she straightens up on her knees, wipes her tears, and watches expectantly.

It takes a few minutes, but the body starts to glow with a white light. After a few minutes, the flesh begins to shift and heal.

"Curious," Alice mutters as she watches Humpty's healing head. "He's not an egghead!" she exclaims. His head is a regular sort of head on a regular sort of body—the only thing out of place is the hole in his chest through which she can see his heart—and now she sees it begin to thump.

Humpty opens his eyes and fixes her with a handsome grin. "You killed me," he says.

Alice stumbles over her words. "Oh yes, I'm terribly sorry about that. I did revive you."

"Shhh. It's okay, cutie. It's what I wanted. It's why I had to attack you, then force you to react. And for that, I am sorry."

She has to look away from his eyes for a moment—they're too intense. "Why?"

"The times she'll kill you shall be three, the third time, by the Vorpal Fist."

"The prophesy?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. It's why I had to force you to kill me three times, before you turned 18. It's why I had to be so mean to you all these years. And it was why I was so happy the second time you killed me, because I knew I was that much closer to my goal."

"Why? I didn't want to..."

"Don't you see? You were destined to kill me three times, and now that you have, the 18-year-old you doesn't kill me in the future, doesn't call me an egghead. I never became a life-sized egg."

Alice is glad he's not an egg. He's a handsome guy.

He continues, "The 18-year-old you had a fully black heart, so she never gave my heart back, which is why I, and all of Wonderland, became heartless, but the 13-year-old you, you're still sweet and innocent, you would give it back, and you did..." He presses his palm over the hole in his chest and grins.

Alice giggles. "You feel it?"

"Oh yes, here..." He reaches and grabs her hand and presses it to his chest.

She can feel it beating, though she avoids actually touching the heart. It feels strange to touch him like this and her hand begins to tremble. Embarrassed, she yanks it away and stares at the ground and says, "So the others in Wonderland. Do they have hearts now too?"

"Of that, I am not certain, but it's possible. Messing about with the timeline can create confusing results."

"I most certainly agree. But I am so glad that you are, a...a result, I mean, I'm glad you're here." On an impulse, she leans in and gives him a peck on the cheek. He looks at her in a way she can't read. "I'm sorry," she says.

"No, it's okay. I—it's just that you're still young. I shouldn't—"

Alice knows that Wonderland characters don't grow older the way she does. "If I were only older..."

"You will be...and I—" He looks away.

"You what?"

"I will come to love you."

"Awww..." Alice feels herself blushing. She feels something like affection for him. Maybe one day she could love him, depending on just how red her heart comes to be.

Chapter 61 The Tweedles

Malice gathers up the large ivory six-sided dice and rolls them on the ground.

She shouts, "One and three make four!"

So she hops forward four times on the blank black squares, outlined in glowing green. As she lands on the Tweedles square, the scenery once again expands, she is standing in the dirt beneath the shade of an oak tree, except there is no tree to be seen in the fifteen by fifteen square.

In front of her she sees Tweedledum and Tweedledee combined together as if they're Siamese twins. But the last time she saw them, they were dead—and they were two separate boys.

She arches her brow as she sees.

And they didn't have a deformed third leg in front with one regular leg on the left and another on the right.

She turns her head to the right, where the Tinkerer and other two are watching on.

Malice shouts, "How are they still alive?"

The Tinkerer chuckles. "It's really quite interesting really. Your twin, Alice revived them with her tears. Chose to combine them into a form of Siamese twins, as a means of torturing them, I suppose."

At this prompt, the Red Queen chooses to interject. "Torture? You know what's torture? Running and running and going nowhere. Especially on a treadmill. It's literally an exercise in futility. Literally!"

Malice says, "Yes, well..." She actually doesn't have anything to say after that—it's simply something one says.

The twins are looking woefully at her. "Can you help us?" says one twin. "Ditto," says the other. "Can you?"

"Help you how?"

"Cut us." "Ditto. Slice."

Malice notices the Cheshire Cat grin even more and bounce around excitedly. She cocks her head from side to side. "You wish to be separated?"

"Yes." The other nods.

The Tinkerer interjects, "Tell her your poem, you dumdums."

They nod, clear their throats, and recite this poem, each taking a turn on a line:

The challenge of this square is this:

To contrive how to cut us in half,

While you leave us both nothing amiss,

And thus give us both reason to laugh,

In the face of death's postponed abyss.

Malice cocks her head. "Why would I be motivated to do such a thing?" She looks at the Tinkerer. "Is there a prize if I succeed?"

"You require a prize? Isn't it good enough to do a good deed?"

Malice considers that. "But what good would that do for me? It doesn't seem logical." But now she is notified that her kindness subroutine has been initiated. It would be a nice thing to do, she realizes. Sometimes one must do nice things even without expecting reward. Malice cocks her head. After consideration, the kindness subroutine increases the intensity of its activational bias toward altruistic behavior.

Of course, the Tinkerer has heard none of Malice's inner thoughts and continues the conversation. "Very well, how about a prize of...oh! The Vorpal Fist."

Malice says, "Again? It failed to operate for me, previously."

"Yes, but that was when you were heartless. You now have a ticktock heart and I'm curious as to whether it will work now. Tell you what, if you win and it doesn't work, I'll award you 300 quid instead."

It would be logical to commit an act of kindness and also be rewarded for it, on top of that. Malice nods in precise smooth movement. "That would be...agreeable. I accept the challenge."

She peers at the twins and they look back in what Malice construes to be nervousness.

Malice runs her logic algorithms. Within seconds they provide a course of action. She has an x-ray monocle. She must use that to see inside the twins, then use her advanced computational abilities to calculate how to cut them so that exactly 50% goes to each twin while still giving each one his best chance of survival. It will not be a straight cut. That was part of the trick of the riddle, she realizes. A less intelligent being would just cut a straight line down the middle or a diagonal line. But that would most likely prove fatal for one or both twins. So really the best way to cut would be to cut crookedly.

She lifts her x-ray monocle, presses the small button on the top.

And now she can see the insides of the twins, the organs—the expanding and contracting lungs, the swishing blood, the pumping hearts, though she can't tell what color they are—everything looks green. She sees now that all the parts of both twins are there, smushed and tangled together but if the cuts are precise they can be cut free.

And she is nothing if not precise.

"Stay still," she says to the twins.

They nod, then take in a breath and hold it.

Malice uses her calculations to guide her. Her hands glide like a machine, quickly cutting and tugging at flesh to reach deeper regions as the crackle sound and smell of burned flesh rises in the air.

The twins whimper but manage to remain still.

As Malice cuts down their torso region she says, "Curious that the laser seals off nerves as it cuts. You won't even feel what you refer to as pain. And there will be no bleeding as well."

She doesn't expect them to respond. As she cuts along their backs, she says, "Shh. It shall be over soon." Her comforting behavior database informs her that saying shhh...can prove soothing to humanoid beings and many mammals.

Finally the twins fully separate.

"There, it is done," she says. Humans tend to appreciate and expect such announcements, according to her database. "You shall have to get new outfits, but that shouldn't be hard."

She is standing behind them. Smoke is still rising from their bodies. She watches as they look down at themselves then at each other and grin and laugh and hug while awkwardly holding their tattered clothes in place. "We are free!" says one. "Ditto! Completely ditto!"

They are patting each other on the backs as they hug.

Malice's kindness subroutine gives her a notification that it is a heartwarming moment, so she sighs and makes the movement to wipe a tear from her eye. She says, "Awah!" Of course, there is no tear, but at least she made the effort, which her database informs her, is often most important to biological humans.

"So how it feel to do good deed?" Tinkerer asks.

"Heartwarming," Malice says. "Awah!"

"Is it?"

"It's just a figure of speech."

The twins are sobbing now, hugging. One says, "I shall never strike you again!" "Ditto, unless you strike me first." "Which I shan't." "And I shan't neither." "And I more likely, shan't." "Eh? I most definitely shan't. More than you." He glares playfully at his brother, then smiles.

But on to other things. Malice looks at the Tinkerer. "My prize?"

"Oh, yes, quite." A pedestal rises from the ground with the Vorpal Fist atop it.

As Malice picks it up, the Tinkerer proclaims "Behold, the Vorpal Fist!"

Malice notes that the fist is covered in fresh, bright red blood. Perhaps this is a most desirable weapon, she thinks as she slips it on.

But it is overly slippery, and much too big for her hand, and slips off again. She peers at the Tinkerer, says, "Explain."

"Well, it seems it won't work for you, though I thought there was a chance it might. It seems to only work for those whose hearts are at least a little black, and you have a ticktock heart, and the fist only tears out the hearts of others who feel love for the wearer, and no one loves you."

Malice's programs notify her that being unloved should make her sad. "That is a saddening thing," she says.

The Tinkerer peers at her curiously. "Indeed. Perhaps it's best that the fist be hidden away. Do you agree?"

"Yes," Malice says. "It is an unkind weapon. It is best for it to be hidden or even destroyed."

The Tinkerer grins. "Excellent! That is a most benevolent decision. You pass."

Malice doesn't respond.

"Of course, your social skill programming could use some improvement. Hmm. In any case, won't you give the fist to the twins? They'll carry it away."

"Very well," Malice says and hands it to the twins.

"Thank you." "Likewise." They grin and look like sweet boys.

Malice practices her smile on them. They give her a curious look.

They disappear and the square turns plain and black.

The Tinkerer says, "So you just committed two, count them, two good deeds! How do you feel about that?"

"They both fell satisfactorily inside the desired kindness parameters."

"How does your heart feel? Warm at all, tingly, twitchy?"

"Why? Is it malfunctioning?"

"Never mind. That's your turn," says the Tinkerer, now she disappears as well, leaving 300 quid on the ground.

Chapter 62 Back to Start

Alice giggles at what Humpty just said.

On her right, Alice sees the Tinkerer pop back into view and say, "I'm back! It's your turn again!"

Alice and Humpty chuckle awkwardly.

"Oh," the Tinkerer says, "did I interrupt a moment?" She shrugs.

The Cat makes smoochy kissy faces in his containment field.

Alice explains, "I brought him back to life and—"

The Tinkerer waves her hand. "Yes, yes, my theory proved to be correct. I fixed Wonderland. You're welcome. But time's a-wastin'. Say your goodbyes."

Alice frowns. "Goodbyes?" She sees Humpty begin to smile, but then he disappears.

"Roll the dice please," the Tinkerer says.

Alice rolls them. 11. She hops.

As she lands on the square, she sees she's back at the start square. It expands into a plain square with "Start" on the ground.

"Well," Alice says, "I've ended up back at the start. Rather boring."

"Now you know how I feel," remarks the Red Queen.

Alice tries not to scowl at her in irritation. Instead she says, "Yes, this is the start square, so there is no challenge."

"Nor is there a snark," the Hatter says, "or is there?"

Apparently, the Hatter has been turned back on again. "What does that mean?" Alice asks.

The Hatter shrugs.

The Tinkerer says, "The good news is that when you land on, or pass the start square, you are rewarded with 200 quid." She presses a button, and coins appear on the floor.

Alice notices the Cat blowing a silent raspberry at her.

Alice looks down. "Your game is most confusing, what am I to buy with these quids?"

"Perhaps you could buy a clue," the Hatter quips.

"Hush, you," says Alice.

"There are certain squares," says the Tinkerer, "where you may buy objects. So save your quid."

"She can't even save her breath, though I wish she would," says the Hatter.

Alice glares at him. She shoots another glare at the Cheshire Cat, who is silently laughing in his containment field.

The Tinkerer says, "In any case, that's your turn." And she and the other two disappear.

Chapter 63 Shadow

Malice rolls the dice. She rolls a 7, and while multiple cartwheeling precisely, passes start again for another 200 quid and ends up on the square labeled, Shadow.

She picks up the quid and the square expands and begins to fill in. She sees two girls bent over, held in some sort of guillotine with gravelly ground beneath. When it fills in more, she can see all things clearly now.

On the left, she sees her shadow projected onto a white screen. Her shadow is bent over in a guillotine that is entirely made of shadows, all except for the multicolored blade which is suspended above—upon closer inspection, she sees that the blade is actually a small rainbow. To the right of her shadow is a paper cut-out doll of Malice/Alice bent over in a paper guillotine. The paper doll is smaller than life size, but because of the angles and distance, the projected shadows are life-sized. A mechanical lamp is on the right of the dolls, providing light. The rainbow blade seems to be coming from a block of glass or crystal that's suspended above the paper doll, as if levitated.

Malice arches a brow. "Curious."

Her shadow says, "Hello Malice."

Malice arches her other brow. "So you're speaking to me again?" Her shadow had recently decided she no longer wanted to be the shadow of either Alice or Malice.

The Tinkerer interrupts, as she has a tendency to do. "I've apprised her of your situation. She knows you now have a heart. She has volunteered to be guillotined if you decide so."

Malice says, "Volunteered?"

"Yes, I convinced her to give you two another chance. Because Alice's heart is no longer fully black and she is on the path to potential recovery and you have a kindness-equipped heart. So I approached your shadow with my idea, and she agreed. But the choice is up to you. That's what this square is about."

The shadow says, "That's right. Let's see how your Ticktock Heart guides."

Malice says, "So I surmise you're not a prisoner?"

"You surmise correctly. I'm holding my head here of my own free will, because—well, I shall allow the Tinkerer to explain."

Malice turns to the Tinkerer, who says, "Very well. It all started when I began to ponder your and Alice's condition. Your shadow had abandoned you both. She was quite upset with you."

"Quite!" the shadow chimes.

The Tinkerer continues, "Even if she wasn't, there was the problem that there was only one of her between the two of you. Would she choose to be the shadow of one of you? Would she switch back and forth between you two? It was a conundrum that I found intriguing. But after a bit of thought and research, I came up with a solution, due to my massive intellect and ingenious inventiveness." She takes a moment to pause and grin in her self-satisfaction.

"Hey! I helped!" the shadow shouts.

"Ah, of course. I called your shadow forth using the paper cutout and she informed me about the various aspects of shadows."

The shadow says, "I only helped because she said she'd be able to make you two be respectable and pleasant again. Girls I could be proud to be the shadow of again."

The Tinkerer says, "And I have done so. In any case, I figured out the solution—a rainbow blade to slice your shadow into two parts. Each of you would get a part. She informed me that, over time, the two parts of her would regenerate."

"My, how curious." Malice's kindness subroutine instructs her to be sensitive to her shadow's feelings, so she says to her, "But won't being beheaded be unpleasant?"

"A little bit, probably. I'm not looking forward to it. But it won't be that bad. Like ripping off a bandage, I expect. But I'll do it for you two."

"That would be most kind of you." Malice bows. "But why a beheading?"

"Well, it's not the most desirable," says her shadow. "She can explain better."

The Tinkerer says, "It takes a great deal of effort to create the proper prism for a rainbow blade powerful enough to cut your shadow. Since you're Malice and Alice, your shadow is very strong and has special abilities beyond those of an ordinary shadow. Why, it would even be able to disrupt the Red Queen's laser down there." She points at the red light projecting from the bottom of the treadmill. "It's a good thing you're on the other side of that force field. But never mind that. Only a very special kind of rainbow can cut your shadow apart. I was only able to create a rather small one, and once the rainbow blade is used, it disappears and the prism becomes useless. But the blade is a sufficient width to cut a narrow body part—such as the neck. It's the obvious choice. Your shadow assures me that beheading is not fatal for the Flat Ones and everything will eventually grow back."

Malice says, "I see. And I would decide who would get which part?"

"Yes, you would choose heads or tails, as it were. Or you may choose neither, in which case, I'll happily destroy the prism and send the shadow on her way to wherever it is shadows go when you cannot see them."

"And I shan't have the shadow all to myself?"

"That is not an option, no."

"What if—"

"Before you try to bribe me or threaten me or plead, I assure you, nothing will sway me. It is not one of the choices."

Malice closes her mouth and nods. "Very well. Let us consider our choices then. Am I so petty that I would choose for neither of us to have a shadow rather than have to share? Perhaps that is the choice the heartless version of me would have made. She had little use for shadows anyway. But I've had a change of heart." She chuckles. "I made a joke there."

"I noticed," says the Tinkerer. "You needn't remark on every joke. It can diminish them."

"Point noted. In any case, my kindness subroutine has notified me that 'caring is sharing', therefore I wish to share with my twin."

"Right on ya!" says the shadow.

"So," Malice continues, "that leaves the matter of who shall get what portion. Am I correct in thinking that the head will be able to speak, but the body will not?"

"That is correct," says the shadow. "That is, until the body grows a new head."

Malice nods. "So which is the better part? Or can such a notion not be quantified? Perhaps, each part has its benefits. For example, with the arms part of the shadow, I would be able to form shadow puppets to amuse myself, correct?"

"Yes," says the shadow.

"Very well," Malice says. "Making shadow puppets is something I should like to do soon. I would like to make bunnies. So I choose the non-head body part. I shall have to wait for the head to grow."

"Ah!" says the Tinkerer. "So that's your decision."

"Yes, definitely."

The Tinkerer nods.

The shadow says, "It's been a pleasure speaking with a kinder you. I look forward to being your shadow again."

"Thank you."

"Okay," says the Tinkerer, "here we go."

"Let's do this," says the shadow, trying to sound brave. "Do it right quick. Less pain. Take it right off."

"Off with her head!" the Tinkerer shouts. She presses a button, and the prism and the rainbow guillotine blade descend. The shadow of her head falls and rolls upon the ground. The muted Cheshire Cat is bouncing excitedly, and the Red Queen just keeps running, seemingly unaffected.

Malice looks to the paper Alice cutout to see that her head has been shorn off as well.

How curious.

And now the shadow head begins to roll. The headless shadow body rises to stand upon its feet. The shadow head rolls past the green line, rises up to face the Cheshire Cat for a few moments and disappears. The Cat looks momentarily creeped out.

The headless shadow stands behind Malice and elongates itself at an angle, looking like a right and proper shadow should look (at least from the neck down).

Now Malice quickly jumps into action, setting her plan into motion. Her algorithms are able to calculate the precise angles, according to the light source, to attain the exact positioning for her shadow. She runs to the lamp, grabs it. The lamp isn't hot at all—perhaps because it's a virtual lamp. She turns it to direct the light toward the Red Queen, slightly to the right of her. The Red Queen looks puzzled, but keeps running.

Malice hopes she can move fast enough to maintain the element of surprise. The second part of her plan is this: she runs to stand in front of the lamp, the light on her body forms an elongated headless shadow on the ground that extends past the boundaries of the square. She's already calculated the exact position to stand. Her long drawn out headless shadow stands beside the laser beam. She presses her arms together so they form what look like large shadow-scissors being held open. She moves the scissors over the laser beam...and closes them, causing that part of the laser beam to be shrouded in shadow.

She holds her hands still, not sure if it will work. But the surroundings around her begin to flicker. Now they fade. Now the virtual reality square disappears entirely, and Malice finds herself in a room that seems eerily familiar. Some people are standing next to her. She sees a looking glass in front of her, but of course she doesn't have a reflection. She sees the Mad Hatter's reflection next to her though, and the Red Queen's and the Cat's reflections who for some reason appear to be behind her.

Chapter 64 Game Over

Malice now realizes she's in the Looking Glass Room. She turns around to see the Tinkerer, Cat and Red Queen. The Cat no longer appears to be surrounded by his containment field.

The Red Queen laughs insanely and launches herself off her treadmill and runs out of the room.

It just gets curiouser and curiouser, Malice thinks to herself.

Alice and the Mad Hatter are looking about as if confused.

Meanwhile, the Tinkerer meets Malice's eyes, and says, "Very good. You pass."

Malice says, "You set me up again?"

And Alice is saying, "What's going on?"

The Cheshire Cat, realizing he is no longer contained, says, "I'm out of here!" And floats out of the room.

The Hatter says, "This place could use a dusting."

"Ladies and gentleman," says the Tinkerer, "we are coming to the end of our journey. My apologies Malice, if you feel I manipulated you. I was honestly curious as to whether you would figure it out."

"Curious," Malice snides back.

"But you performed splendidly. You figured out the puzzle I set up for you. Granted, you shall never be as intelligent as me, but I'm proud, nonetheless."

The Hatter is rubbing his chin while peering at Alice.

Alice is indignant, says, "I said, I'm not the Snark! Now quit looking at me! Can't you see our surroundings have changed? There's more pressing matters!"

"Yes," interjects the Tinkerer, "you are now inside the Looking Glass House. Well, technically, you were here all along, but the virtual reality disguised it. Once the laser was interrupted, the prism no longer shined its light into the mirror."

Alice says, "Lasers are those light thingies right?"

The Hatter turns to face Malice. "Aha! Finally you show up. How convenient. It will surely turn out that it is you who are the Snark after all!" And he glares at her with an accusing finger pointed at her.

As he turned, Malice's precise eyes and calculating mind picked up on an anomaly in the movement of the hat atop the Hatter's head, as if something beneath the hat shifted weight ever-so-slightly. A typical person would never have noticed, but Malice has the eyes of a computer-aided genius of physics. She stares at his hand and says,

"Be careful what you hunt for,

You mightn't like what you will find,

When you point one finger forward,

Three fingers point behind."

"What's that?" the Hatter says, glancing at his hand and now lowering it defensively, even trying to hide it behind his back.

Malice's eyes crinkle. "Mister Mad Hatter. Fancy meeting you here. But 'tis a pleasure." She curtsies, hoping she can get him to tip his hat, or if he doesn't, that would prove quite suspicious wouldn't it?

He sneers—does not bow or tip his hat. "If this is your pleasure, I should like to see your pain."

Malice tries her smile again. "Oh come now. I'm sorry for killing you. But it's all sorted now. I've got a kindness-equipped heart now, and wish to express my condolences."

He folds his arms. "You did a poor job of killing me. You did not, even, for here I stand."

Malice attempts to be charming. "Oh, come now. I'm sorry. We can begin anew. I'll try to make it up to you. Won't you at least tip your hat to me, at least as a beginning?"

Alice looking on says, "What are you two going on about?"

Malice curtsies. "A tip of the hat?"

The Hatter crosses his arms tighter and looks away. "I shan't tip my hat to a snark with such an unfortunate appearance. Talk about Wonderland. I wonder how you landed on your face so hard. Hrmph!"

Alice asks, "Are you two having a tiff or something?"

Meanwhile, Malice thinks, Enough of this silliness. Without a word, she lifts the x-ray monocle to her eye and peers at the hat.

And she sees, underneath the hat, a tentacled squid-like creature. The creature is upside down, with its mouth attached to the top of the Hatter's head. The creature has squished its body inside the hat—it would be a wonder if it is actually comfortable.

Malice arches a brow. "How curious."

"What is?" says Alice.

The Hatter says, "Curiousity killed the cat. Eight times. Why not ask the idiot. And that monocle does not agree with your face, but then your face has arguments with everything."

Malice ignores his diversion. She lowers the monocle and points at the Hatter's hat. "There is a strange sort of creature residing beneath his hat, locked onto his head, like a leach. I suspect it is a parasite, or may even be in control of the Hatter's body."

"Ha!" The Hatter laughs. "That's what I'd expect a snark to do. Accuse someone else to take attention away from herself!"

"Then why not lift your hat and prove me wrong?"

"I have hat head. You shan't see. Would be much too embarrassing!"

"Is it true?" Alice says.

Malice says, "So, perhaps I am the snark, yes, but why don't you simply remove your hat?"

"Ha! I don't take orders from you. Why, you couldn't even order a fist sandwich because it would be too afraid to touch your ugly face."

And Alice is watching on with her head pressed to her mouth saying, "Is it true, Hatter?"

Meanwhile, the Tinkerer watches on calmly.

Malice stamps her foot. "Enough of this. There is obviously a creature under your hat. It can't be denied any longer. So show yourself, creature!"

"Oh, you!" the Hatter shouts. He carefully pulls his hat from off his head. With a suction sound, a moist squidlike creature slides from the hat and remains clinging to the top of the Hatter's head. The tentacles on top fan out and sway. Glassy black eyes peer out near the top of the Hatters head, where the mouth of the creature is latched on. The Hatter's mouth speaks, saying, "Happy now? Yes, I am the Snark, and the Hatter is my host. I was doing what a snark does, drawing attention away from myself by attacking and insulting others. But you ruined it!"

Malice's empathy subroutine kicks in. "Forgive me. I must try to see it from your perspective," she says.

Alice shouts, "Let go of him!"

The Hatter's face looks at Alice and holds his hand up. "Ah, ah, let me say my piece. This is the important moment I've been leading everything up to, and I know it's hard for you, but if you can manage to keep your mouth shut for just a moment, you just might learn something. Now, listen:

"I'll tell you the true danger,

And I mean this symbolically,

The Snark is not a stranger.

The Snark is you and me."

The Hatter's body steeples its hands, with the wriggling creature writhing atop his head. He meets the eyes of everyone in the room and gives it a moment for his words to sink in. Finally, he says, "Now what do I mean by that? Hmm? And now we come the lesson I've been trying to teach you all along. It is this...we are all snarks, on the inside, no matter how much we try to hide it, or fight it. Yes, I am obviously the Snark, but...so are you." He points at the Tinkerer. "I've heard some of your snide comments." The Tinkerer looks down. "And you're the Snark." He points at Malice, who arches a brow. He points at Alice. "And yes, even you are the Snark, Alice."

Alice moves quick. Shrieking, she runs and punches the Snark with a sick squishy sound. The Snark and Hatter's head lurch to the side.

The Snark screeches and flails in anger. The Hatter's mouth yells, "You gormless nitwit!"

Alice punches the Snark again with a squishy sound, and shouts, "I know you are!"

Malice is wondering if she should feel sorry for the Snark. She is accessing her database.

The Snark wriggles and the Hatter's head begins to cry and says, "Quit being mean! I'm just doing what a good parasite does, and I've done good for my host. I fixed him up, repaired his neck, made him good as new!"

"Well, go parasite somewhere else!" Alice shouts. She shakes her fist threateningly. "Let him rest in peace!"

The Hatter's face says, "Oh, very well! This parasite shall not miss the pair-of-sights of you two'ses ugly face. I bid you good day!" And with a piercing screech, it launches from atop the Hatter's head, landing on the ceiling, where it clings like a spider. The Hatter's body crumples to the floor. The Snark, meanwhile, skitters across the ceiling, breaks a window and scurries away.

Chapter 65 Finale

Alice scowls at the Tinkerer. "You knew!"

The Tinkerer says, "Of course I knew. I tried to fix him and his broken neck, but it was beyond my abilities. The Snark was able to repair him."

The Hatter sits up and says, "Repair who? Or is it whom?"

Malice says, "Whom."

Alice shouts, "You're alive!"

The Hatter's eyelids flutter. "Why so I am. Ah! Don't kill me!"

Alice soothes, "Don't worry. I shan't. My heart is much redder now." She looks down at the top of the Hatter's head. It's a bit messy, gory even, so she says, "Why don't you put your hat back on?"

Vacantly he nods, looks at Malice. "How about you? Gonna kill me?"

"No, I have a mechanical heart now, that makes me be kind." As he puts on his hat, she walks over to him, she pats him on the shoulder and says, "There there."

He looks up at her, "Eh? I say, where am I? How did I get here?"

The Tinkerer explains, "In order to use the Hatter as a host, the Snark had to repair the damage done to him. See? It all worked out. Because of me, the Hatter is fixed."

Alice meanwhile is pondering the Hatter as Malice takes his hand and helps lift him up to stand.

Alice says, "So what about you, Hatter? Have you got a heart?"

The Hatter greets her with a puzzled frown. "Why, whatever do you mean? Of course I do, don't I?" He presses his hand to his chest. "Why yes, there it is!"

Alice says, "What color?

The Hatter says, "Well, I can't see it. But red, I assume."

Alice grins big.

Malice arches a brow.

The Tinkerer says, "My, what a happy ending this is turning out to be, but perhaps this ending is all a dream from which you will awaken only to find yourself back in the horrible version of Wonderland."

They all look at her in worry, except for Malice, who finds the notion intriguing.

"Just joshing ya," the Tinkerer says.

Malice says, "So I found the Snark. What's my prize?"

Meanwhile, Alice kisses Hatter on the cheek, says, "I'm glad you're alive."

The Hatter says, "Thank you," and begins to blush.

"Aw, how sweet," says the Tinkerer. She looks at Malice. "Your prize is, you get to choose."

"Choose what?"

The Tinkerer sweeps her arm to the mirror. "Ladies and gentleman, I present to you, the portal from Wonderland into the outside world. It is the same one you have been working hard to travel through, but I have made some alterations. You see, before, in order for you to travel through it, you needed a reflection. It is why I created a clone of Malice to see if she could use the clone as a reflection substitute, but things have changed. I've coated the Looking Glass with my special one-way mirror treatment so that now, only those without a reflection can travel through."

Alice gasps. "Oh my!"

Malice arches a brow, says, "Intriguing."

Hatter says, "Like a vampire!"

And the Tinkerer continues, "So, since only one of you, either Malice or Alice, can go through the mirror, a choice must be made as to who will accompany me."

Malice arches a brow. "The choice is simple. The outside world is not my world. I belong here. Alice should go." She looks at Alice. "Is that okay?" She smiles.

Alice presses her hand to her chest and feels her heartbeat quicken. "Oh my! It's everything I've wanted, my dream come true! Oh, thank you thank you!" The tears come now. She and the Hatter hug. He's crying too.

Now Malice and Alice hug.

Malice says to the Tinkerer, "I'm curious. How is it that you will be able to go through the mirror?"

"Oh me? I am actually the reflection of my other self. She is back in the outside world, doing whatever she's doing. But we shall join up soon. And I shall leave you in charge." She hands the remote control to Malice. "Malice, with this remote will come great power. With the Queen of Hearts in the dungeon, I am certain you will be a just and kind ruler, because of your mechanical heart and kindness subroutine."

Malice bows. "As long as they function properly, I'm sure I will be the nicest of rulers."

The Tinkerer waves her hand. "Eh? Well of course they'll function properly. I designed them." She hugs Malice's legs. "Now that I've fixed Wonderland, I'm so looking forward to getting back to the outside world, and playing with you, Alice." She walks over to her and hugs the lower part of her poofy dress.

Alice pats the top of her head. "Hmm? What do you mean play with me?"

"You know, games. The typical things."

"Hmm? Are we to be together? Will we even live in the same area? What of your family?"

"Oh yes, Mum and Dad will be so glad to see you!"

"What do you mean? Are you to adopt me?"

"Oh!" The Tinkerer giggles. "Don't you know? I thought I had mentioned it. Alice! I'm your sister."

Alice laughs. "Oh, you scamp! Why didn't you say so?"

"I thought I did! Or perhaps it slipped my mind. In any case, yes, I came over to find you and bring you back so I could have my big sister to play with."

Alice kisses the top of her head.

And so the end of Alice's long stay in Wonderland approaches.

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!

The Cheshire Cat reappears and Alice gives him a goodbye rub beneath his floating chin as he purrs.

Tears flow freely as she hugs the Hatter and Malice, waves and takes her little sister's hand, and now, hand in hand, she and her little sister walk through the Looking Glass into the world beyond.

THE END. Thanks for reading. If you'd like to stay informed of future releases, simply subscribe to my newsletter by visiting my website at loteyrose.com

Follow the further adventures of Malice in The Malice Hates Fairy Tales Trilogy!

It's available in the second Malice in Wonderland Bundle!

Lotus, or Lotey, as he keeps trying to get people to call him, lives in Austin, an oasis in the heart of Texas. He attended the University of Texas at Austin, where he learned that frat boys are lame. He once watched a fraternity house burn down when they accidentally set their fake snow on fire after a party. After college, rather than get a real job, he decided to become a writer. He invented the corruptagram, a symbol he's trying to get banned in public schools. He enjoys Newcastle Brown Ale and black metal with blastbeats. Lotus Rose is not a frat boy.

His website is at~ loteyrose.com

Also by Lotus Rose, MachoPoni: A Prance with Death

In this "children's book for adults," MachoPoni has no choice but to enter the Dark Kingdom, where the undead ponies roam. He must rescue Dust, the poni he loves from the dark princess's castle, using wit, creativity and his magic bouncy blue ball to survive.

A twisted parody of My Little Pony, The Care Bears, and other 80's staples. Warning: contains gore and mild sexual content.

Note: Other volumes in the Poniworld Chronicles are now available. They're called Mein Poni-Kampf: A Biography of the Leader of the Nazi Ponies, My Brootal Poni: A Very Butch Poni Tale, and Dust in Your Eyes: An Erotic Poni Tale.

Also by Lotus Rose, SinEaster, the book that started the Twisted Holiday Specials

Like a naughty Easter version of The Nightmare Before Christmas mixed with Charlie and the Chocolate Factory... On the day before her 18th birthday, Charlee wasn't expecting to be transported to Easter Land. A princess informs her she must compete to decide which of three creatures will be the future egg deliverer. But a man tied to a dark holiday known as SinEaster is also aware of her arrival.

Books by Lotus Rose

More info at loteyrose.com

The Corruption of Innocence, The Doll Queen, Poniworld Chronicles

Twisted Holiday Specials

SinEaster

Merry XXXmas, Charlee Frown

BlackHearts Day

Gothic Lolita Series

Gothic Lolita

Gothic Lolita 2: Heirloom

Gothic Lolita 3: Pageant

Malice in Wonderland Saga

Malice in Wonderland Prequel

Malice in Wonderland #1: Alice the Assassin

Malice in Wonderland #2: Alice the Angel of Death

Malice In Wonderland #3: Alice the Girl Who Will Tear Your Heart Out and Show It To You Before You Die

Malice Hates Fairy Tales Trilogy

Jabberwocky Trilogy

Dorothy vs. Alice: Crucify the Scarecrow

Faerie Brace-Face Trilogy

Faerie Brace-Face

Revenge of the Faebots

The Return of Mackenzie

For more info about all my books, simply visit http://loteyrose.com/bookinfo.html

Copyright © 2012-2014 by Lotus Rose

Cover Designed by Natasha Snow Designs

www.natashasnowdesigns.com

Discover other titles by Lotus Rose at loteyrose.com
