by Cameron Jace
The highest point on the Snail Mound is empty, except for my Tiger Lily bouncing to the sunlight on top.
“How did you get here?” I ask.
“I am always here.” She snickers.
“No, you’re not. You were down there a few minutes ago.”
“Down there, up here, what does it matter?” She laughs. “As long as I have changed my mind to tell you about the circus.”
I try to calm down and not lose it. “Why did you change your mind?”
“Frankly, because you found the Snail Mound.”
“What does that mean?”
“The Snail Mound is only visible to three people. That’s why the Hatter wanted you to find it for him.”
“Oh.” It makes a little more sense now. It doesn’t explain the bomb in the rabbit and the dress, gloves, and fan, though. “Are you saying he is watching me now, that I am leading him to a place he shouldn’t have access to?”
“It could be,” she says. “I’m not the Hatter, you know.”
Thinking about it, I still have no choice. I have to keep my deal with the Hatter, so he’ll tell me where the rabbit is. “You said only three people could find the Snail Mound?”
“Lewis Carroll, the March Hare, and... guess who?” She winks.
“The Real Alice?” I am hoping.
“You’re right about that.”
“So it’s me.” I sigh. “Finally.”
“Well, it’s still a bit tricky,” she says. “You see, you’re the Real Alice in an unreal world.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, since you’ve fallen into the rabbit hole, you’ve been transported to this place, which, frankly—I’m not sure what it is. It could be a mimicking version of Wonderland, or anything else.”
“I am not even registering anything you say.” I hold my head tight to stop it from exploding. “Can you just tell me where the circus is?”
“It’s right here in front of you,” she says. “You came all the way up here to find something all the way down there.” She points at Wonderland below.
I follow her gaze, and there it is in the distance: the circus’s tent.
51
MEETING HALL, BUCKINGHAM PALACE, LONDON
Dr. Tom Truckle watched the Queen take the stage.
People stood up and clapped enthusiastically as she embarked on a stepper to reach the podium. The smug smile on her face was prominent as she asked them to “shut up” and “sit down.”
“Thank you for accepting my invitation for the most important event in the history of mankind,” she began. “I have chosen you for reasons only the likes of us can understand. Each one of you has a past I sympathize with and understand clearly.”
Dr. Tom thought he knew what she meant as he glanced at the list of members on the back of his card. But he needed to wait to confirm his suspicions.
“But before I lay out my plan, I’d like you to watch something.” She signaled to Margaret Kent, and a screen came down behind her. “What you’re going to see now will stir a few bad memories, but it’s a must.”
Dr. Tom watched the screen flicker, curious about what he was going to watch.
52
THE MAZE, WONDERLAND
TIME REMAINING: 9 HOURS, 23 MINUTES
It’s quite a maze to get to the circus.
I tried to memorize it while I was atop the Snail Mound, but now I’m not sure I won’t get lost down here.
It’s a hedge maze, curving left and right, but I’m determined to finish it and get to the circus in the center—that’s how it appeared to be from atop the spiral mound.
I notice that as I walk, the sky starts to turn blue again, and I seem to hear voices in the distance. The circus?
Hedge after hedge, curve after curve, I am going crazy. Whenever I think I am close to the sound, the maze ends.
I have to start all over again.
In my mind, I focus on the direction of the sound. Is it coming from my left side? Right side? Does it sound a bit muffled here because the maze is blocked? Does it flow better there?
The sounds are of a cheering crowd. Everyone seems happy about something. I am getting curiouser and curiouser.
More steps in, I stop in my tracks again.
Someone stands in front of me. Someone I didn’t expect to see in here.
“Fabiola?”
“Nice to see you again, Alice.” She is wrapped in white from head to toe. Her dress flutters to a light breeze, and her smile is ever so enchanting.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” I say.
“I am not really who I am in this world if that makes any sense.”
“No. It doesn’t make any sense.” I chuckle feebly. “But what does?”
“I understand.” She nods. “You’re in the Bridge of Time between past and present, real and unreal. It’s the aftermath of the March Hare trying to open portals to Wonderland with his gardens.”
“So, this isn’t Wonderland?”
“It is... and it isn’t.”
“Here we go again,” I mumble.
“It’s like a memory, where some things are true, and some are lies.” Fabiola is trying her best to make sense of it. “I have no idea how I am here, just like you. But I know why I am here.”
“Why are you here, then, Fabiola?”
“To warn you. Whoever led you here with this maid’s dress and asked you to seek the circus wishes you harm.”
“What kind of harm?”
“The worst of all—emotional harm.”
“Why does he want to harm me, whoever it is who’s playing games?”
“It’s the only way for you to remember—at least a few things.”
“How I killed my friends in the bus?”
“No. That should come later,” Fabiola says. “You’re about to remember what really happened in the last days of Wonderland. Why the war is coming, a truth that I’ve tried to conceal for so long, even from myself.”
“I thought Lewis Carroll locked the Wonderland Monsters in here, so they wouldn’t bring chaos into the world,” I say. “I saw him do it when I was in the Tom Tower. Isn’t that Wonderland’s biggest secret?”
“Not at all.” Fabiola shakes her head. “Ever wondered why he locked them up?”
“I assumed they were evil.” I try to think of a better word. “That they wanted to hurt people in the real world.”
“That could be part of it, but it’s not the real truth.” Fabiola’s eyes are watery. “You see, there is a reason why the Wonderland Monsters, led by the Queen of Hearts, are incredibly powerful.”
“I had expected them to be led by the Cheshire,” I say. “I mean, he seemed the evilest, with his power.”
“The Cheshire is merely a hint to the dangers Wonderlanders could bring upon the real world. There is a reason why the Wonderland Wars could be the end of the world. A much grander reason,” Fabiola says. “Ever wondered why the Cheshire hates humans so much?”
“Because humans killed his ancestors in an eye-rolling story I have never heard anything like before.”
“That’s hardly scratching the surface,” Fabiola says. “Something happened to the Wonderland Monsters that made them this way—not that they weren’t obnoxious in Wonderland, but the twist of evil in their personalities happened later.”
“Why don’t you spell it out for me, Fabiola? Why all the puzzles?”
“Because memories are mostly visual. You have to see them to remember—of course, that’s if you’re the Real Alice. I’m not going to go over this again.”
“Apparently, this Hatter thinks I am her.”
“We all hope you’re her,” Fabiola says. “I know I didn’t believe it at first, but trust me, I want to believe you’re her. But I don’t want to waste your time, as you have to go to the circus and see what happened in the last days of Wonderland. I just wanted you to take notice of the door in the hedge to your right.”
I turn my head, and there it is. A wooden door
I hadn’t seen before.
“It’s okay that you haven’t seen it,” she says. “Sometimes, when we’re fixated on reaching the end, we miss the important things along the way.”
“You want me to open it?”
“Not now,” Fabiola says. “I’d prefer you open it on your way back. Its impact should be more to the point then.”
I let out a long sigh. I’m tired. I am really tired. My mind is about to fry. If I just get one normal thought to hang on, I think I’ll feel much better.
“I know it’s hard.” She steps over and touches my cheek. Her hands are warm. I feel at home. “And it’s your choice to walk the distance or not. I mean, you could have just given up on a rabbit with a bomb threatening the children in London. A sane person would have done that.”
“You mean only the insane walk the distance?”
“It’s an unusual way to put it.” She laughs. “But it’s true. Insanity isn’t always a curse. For those who know how to use it, it’s a bliss. Now, I have to go, Alice.”
She pulls her hand away, and I feel lost. I feel without a family. Lonely, as usual.
I can hear the crowd in the distance, cheering. Again, they sound so happy. I wonder how this could be bad at all.
“One more thing,” Fabiola says. “Once you reach the end of the maze, you won’t be in Wonderland anymore. The Bridge of Time will take you to the 19th century.”
“In the real world?”
“Yes.” She nods. “The circus, Alice, was in the real world. It was the first moment in history when Wonderland and the real world collided.”
53
MEETING HALL, BUCKINGHAM PALACE, LONDON
Tom Truckle squinted at the screen in the dark.
The movie was out of this world. It was as if some loony director had made a movie about Wonderland, pushing everything up a notch. A great movie, indeed. Except that the Queen was calling it a documentary.
Everyone around Tom was sighing and talking about how they missed the old days of Wonderland.
It should have driven him crazy, but it didn’t. Tom, unbeknownst to most, was all too aware of Wonderland and had his own plans for finding it.
Surely he had fooled everyone with his act, that he didn’t believe that it existed—basically shocking Alice to death in the Mush Room for it—but that was all a facade.
No one knew who he was, and he was just waiting for all the threads to come together so he could strike as hard as he planned.
But even so, watching this movie was melancholic.
What really took him by surprise was the part when the screen went black for a few seconds. Everything went silent, and then a word appeared on the screen.
A word that meant nothing to Tom but stirred sighs among the crowd.
“And now,” the Queen said, “it’s time to look into this memory we usually hate to remember, but trust me, it’s a must.”
The movie began, and Tom was wondering about that word he had just read. Why was it so frightening to everyone in the room, including the Queen?
It was a normal word. Even funny. A word that usually instilled mirth in the hearts of kids.
The word was: circus.
54
THE CIRCUS
TIME REMAINING: 8 HOURS, 34 MINUTES
I run like a mad girl.
I think my feet are as curious as me, wanting to see the circus. It causes me to fall, but I pick myself up again, running in the maid’s dress through the maze.
What could have happened in the circus? Why would the Wonderlanders have attended a circus? Did they work there?
Running, I imagine the Pillar as the circus ringmaster, using his wicked charm to lure kids into the tent. I imagine the Cheshire disguised as an evil clown. The March Hare, a mad knife thrower. Fabiola could be a ballerina, or a pantomime dancer, luring people with the power of silence. The kids would love her. How about the rest? How about Jack?
Tears threaten to trickle down my face as I remember him. Is it possible he once lived with me in Wonderland?
I imagine us both working the trapeze. Alice Wonder, the trapeze girl, and Jack Diamond, the card magician. I imagine him climbing up the trapeze and catching me when I fall.
My mind is racing, as are my feet, as is my heart.
Suddenly, I am there. I’ve finished the maze. I am in the center.
Slowing down, I am mesmerized by the fireworks in the sky, the crowd of families, and the endless supply of Wonderland food.
“Welcome to the circus.” A short ringmaster urges people inside. It’s not the Pillar. Someone I have never seen before. Just a normal man from the 19th century. “Please enter and see the wonders of the world!”
People start rushing inside while their kids lick on cotton candy. What could be so sinister inside? It looks so beautiful. A circus from about two centuries ago in the heart of...
Wait, is this still Scotland? London? I have no idea.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, step inside, come closer,” the ringmaster calls out. “You will not believe your eyes. You won’t believe your mind.”
I approach in my maid’s dress, worried they won’t let me in, but a few kids push me through. Everyone is about to watch the anticipated show.
“Inside this tent, you will witness something you’ve never seen or heard before,” the ringmaster chirps. “It’s crazier than dreams, stranger than fiction.”
I am stepping inside.
The circus is beautiful. I notice it looks uncannily like the Six O’clock Circus in Mudfog Town, only this one is well taken care of. It’s huge!
“Welcome to the most amazing show on earth.” The ringmaster follows inside and steps into the ring. “Forget about magicians. Forget about clowns. Forget about trapeze girls.”
I sit among the enthusiastic crowd, wondering what the show is going to be about. Why would you want to forget about clowns and magicians in a circus? What are we going to see then?
And where are the Wonderlanders? I look around and see none of them.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” The ringmaster raises his hands, and the crowd is all seated now. “What you’re about to see will blow your mind.”
People clap all around me. I have a feeling this circus is famous. Either they have heard of it before or have actually seen this show already.
“From America to Brazil, China to Europe, Africa to the North Pole,” the ringmaster brags. “From all over the world, and now here for you in Britain. This is the show you’ve all heard about.” He waves his hand behind an ear, expecting the crowd to shout the name.
“The Maddest Show on Earth!” the crowd screams.
The ringmaster smiles and calls two of his assistants to stand side by side next to him. A bald man and a big woman, heavy on her feet. That’s all I can see thus far.
“Are you ready?” he shouts.
The crowd’s response is overwhelming.
Ready for what, I wonder.
All around him, men are putting a huge steel cage together while a few cute dancers entertain the crowd.
My heart is racing. What is the cage for? A lion?
“I suppose you all have your cotton candy with you.” The ringmaster smirks. “Because you will need it.”
All around me, people pull out bags of cotton candy in all colors.
I don’t know why, but I’m starting to have a bad feeling about this. Fabiola was right. I don’t think I’m going to like what I will see, although I have no idea what to expect.
Why can’t I see any of the Wonderlanders?
“We’re close to starting the show,” the ringmaster says. The man and woman next to him look familiar. I squint, hoping I can recognize them. “But like every city and town we stop by, let me tell you about the show you’re about to see. Let me tell you about the Invisible Plague.”
Invisible Plague? I wonder what that could be.
As he finishes the sentence, I recognize the two people on his left and right. I can’t believe my eyes. I
think I’m going to faint. It’s Waltraud and Ogier, my evil wardens at the Radcliffe Asylum.
55
MEETING HALL, BUCKINGHAM PALACE, LONDON
“Before I resume the video, I have to remind you of what the circus was about,” the Queen said, and Dr. Tom was listening eagerly. “What I want to remind you about is something they used to call the Invisible Plague.”
A few squeals escaped the crowd. From Tom too. He had heard about the Invisible Plague before but thought it was only a myth. He stared back at the invitation card in his hand and read the list of guests again, breathing heavily. This couldn’t be.
“Back in the 18th and 19th centuries, when I lived in Wonderland, things were crazy,” the Queen explained. “Crazy but beautiful in a nonsensical way. The power of imagination Lewis Carroll had gifted us with had no boundaries. Animals and flowers talked. Endless parties where we threw teacups at each other—and loved it. And more. At some point, most of us could materialize their own thoughts into reality.”
The crowd sighed.
“But then the hallucinations began, and things got weirder when that Alice girl entered our world, criticizing our mad ways of living. But who was she to understand the beauty of bonkers and borgroves of Wonderland?” the Queen said. “Let’s not go into what damage she caused, and let’s focus on the rabbit hole she created, the one that broke the borders between Wonderland and the silly human world.”
Tom fidgeted in his seat. Didn’t she say she was going to explain what the Invisible Plague was? He was curious.
“Humans began coming into our world, one by one,” the Queen said. “And thus, we crossed over to their world, too. Suddenly, we found ourselves in a world we didn’t belong to. A world of humans in the 19th century in London. Unlike the madly colorful Wonderland, their world was a place of war, poverty, and Victorian darkness.”