Midnight Law

by Geanna Culbertson

  he sky continued to dance with streaks of colored lightning. It was pretty at first, but as time went by the strikes grew more violent. Occasionally a bolt made it all the way to ground level—hitting a tree and instantly turning it to black dust. More problematic, clouds of different colors had moved in, camouflaging our green trail of light.

  “I can’t see our trail at all, can you?” Daniel asked, squinting up.

  “No,” I said.

  “Maybe we should find the Hatter’s Mad Tea Party,” Mauvrey suggested.

  Daniel pivoted. “Why?”

  “Mila said that time is frozen there, and I know she is right. The Hatter and his friend the March Hare were punished by Time, so the clock never moves forward where they are—it is eternally teatime, as it were. If we cannot see our way, we should wait out the storm there. Your Midnight Law clock cannot move forward if we are somewhere time stands still.”

  “That’s brilliant, Mauvrey,” Daniel remarked.

  “Try not to sound so surprised.” She shrugged. “Mila said that the Hatter is on the other side of the river, and if I am not mistaken, I believe that we are about to reach that point.” She held her finger out and I saw it—a cliff.

  We reached the precipice two minutes later. A rope bridge, perhaps a hundred feet long, stretched to the other side. A simple wooden sign staked in the ground read “River of Tears.”

  The four of us glanced down.

  “They say that this river is a compilation of every tear ever shed by the inhabitants of Wonderland,” I mused as I stepped onto the bridge. “According to my own research of Wonderland, it is also the site of the most drownings in any of the realms. Apparently, the tears cause you to sink much faster than normal water would.”

  “You and Mauvrey are both very smart, SJ,” Daniel commented as he stepped on behind me, bridge swaying. “But let’s keep the more morbid fairytale trivia to ourselves when our lives are on the line.”

  When I hovered over the center of the divide, I gazed at the drop to the rushing river far below. If the tears did not drown you, the fall would surely kill you.

  “Perhaps you are right, Daniel . . .” I mused.

  “Perhaps more than one of you is right,” said a bone-chilling voice.

  We looked up to see the enormous disembodied head of the Cheshire Cat floating in the sky, its smile the width of the bridge.

  “But it’s not my place to say,” he continued.

  “Shoo, cat. Get out of here,” Mauvrey said. “Your warning was helpful before, but now is not the time for nonsense.”

  “Non-sense. Full-sense. One can be the other and the other can be neither; it’s just a matter of the timing. You’ll see.” The Cheshire Cat’s head grew even bigger, as if someone was pumping it full of helium. Then his eyes drifted to Daniel.

  “And I’ll see you later . . .” He winked at Daniel before fading away, leaving his smile behind for a few extra moments.

  Daniel’s face had turned pale.

  “Daniel?”

  “I’m fine, SJ,” he said.

  After crossing safely to the other side of the bridge, we entered another forest—purple this time—where patches of fog became increasingly prevalent. Every tree trunk in the area was a rich boysenberry shade; the leaves, a dark eggplant. Violet grass and mauve boulders were interspersed with mushrooms of all sizes in plum, periwinkle, and grape. We continued in this palette, fog thickening, until we came upon a singular speck of blue.

  Sitting upon a raisin-colored mushroom as big as a coffee table, we found a blue caterpillar, roughly the length of a biscotti cookie. The insect smoked a pipe. As we neared it, the creature blew smoke rings that doubled in circumference until they merged with the fog.

  “Ohhhh. Outsiders,” the caterpillar remarked sleepily. “What trouble brings you?”

  “Um, we’re on a quest,” Kai responded.

  “Isn’t everyone?” the caterpillar said. He blew a smoke ring at Kai. “Just try not to break too many things while you’re here. Outsiders have a way of causing a ruckus—eating things and wrecking things and upsetting the balance.”

  “Okay then,” Daniel said. We began moving again.

  “As it happens . . .” We paused at the caterpillar’s voice. “I could use a ride to the Hatter’s. I don’t suppose you’re headed that way?”

  I glanced at the others. Daniel shrugged.

  “We are headed that way,” I responded. “I see no reason why we cannot take you there, especially if you can provide clear directions.”

  “That would seem an unfair advantage, as most of us have unclear directions, but I’ll make an exception in your case,” mused the caterpillar.

  I walked back and held out my hand. The blue caterpillar crawled onto it, leaving his pipe on the mushroom. I placed the creature on my shoulder.

  “You’ve forgotten something,” he said to me.

  “If you mean your tiny pipe, I am afraid I am not bringing it along. This is a non-smoking ride.”

  “No, no. Take a chunk from the right side of my mushroom. Another of you should take a chunk from the left. When eaten, the right side will cause you to grow a ludicrously immense height for a short period of time. The left side will cause you to shrink to a laughably minuscule size for a tall period of time. It is my payment for the ride.”

  “There is no need for that,” I said.

  “There is no need for anything. But I like to barter, and assist, and smoke, and resist, and help when I’m not needed, and gloat when advice is heeded. So please, take some now and appreciate me when it’s over.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Thank you.” I broke off a piece of mushroom from the right side and Kai took a portion from the left. I wanted to protest to her having the magical item, but the caterpillar whispered in my ear.

  “A little longer. A littler stronger.”

  The voice, and the message, tingled my spine, and I chose to let the matter go. Following the caterpillar’s directions, we proceeded through the woods then beneath a tunnel of moss and wonky purple flowers. When we emerged, we found ourselves under such a thick canopy of leaves that we could only hear the Storm of Lights.

  It was probably for the best that the lightning show was no longer in view, because it would have been too much for the eyes to handle in addition to the scene before me. We had arrived at Wonderland’s famous Mad Tea Party. The whimsical, weird, colorful setting was everything I had imagined it would be and yet still surprising.

  The narrow, long table in front of us was draped with three different overlapping tablecloths—one black, one with violet-lavender stripes, and another in tangerine. A lace table runner ran down the center. Mason jars serving as vases held large indigo and orange flowers. Paper lanterns and glittering streamers hung from trees. I counted nine different teapots and twelve place settings. Each place setting had a unique teacup—beautiful in its own way, but cracked or chipped to keep it from being perfect. The gold or silver plate at each setting rested ready to receive the fares from platters across the table, which held tea sandwiches and pastries stacked in piles that did not look structurally sound.

  Seated around the table were equally unique creatures. On a stump to my left resided a human-sized Dodo bird wearing a tuxedo vest. He had a cane leaning against the table beside him and the most vacant expression I had ever seen. Beside him, a rabbit—which may have been the March Hare—sat in a fancy golden throne. He wore a navy blazer with a polka dot handkerchief in the pocket and had a pile of straw on his head. His whole body jittered as he attempted to drink from his teacup, causing the contents to shake out.

  On my right, atop a stack of pillows, a mouse wearing a jumpsuit lay asleep on a silver plate with several partially nibbled sandwiches. Lastly, sitting on his own throne at the head of the table across from us, I spotted the Mad Hatter himself. The man was below average height. His hat—purple with green ribbon and maroon feathering—was not. It added a foot and a half to his stature. A big, pale yellow arrow was s
ewn into the topper, and a tag with 10/6 stuck out of the side. The Hatter also wore large, circular spectacles and a black tie under his purple jacket.

  “You made it!” the Hatter exclaimed, gesturing to us. “And just in time too. We weren’t expecting any of you. Come, we have several seats by the Dormouse.” He gestured to the available seats by the slumbering rodent.

  “Are you sure we are not imposing?” I asked. I waved off an insect the size of my ear that whirred in my face—a crimson Rocking-Horse-Fly with the traditional body of such a toy horse and polka dot, massive mosquito wings.

  “Of course you are,” the Hatter said. “And that is the fun. Now come. Sit.”

  I placed myself in the remaining throne while Daniel and Kai took tree stumps and Mauvrey positioned herself atop a stack of pillows at the end of the table opposite the Hatter.

  “Put me with the Dormouse,” the blue caterpillar said in my ear. I reached over and carefully set him down.

  “Mmm . . . Moisture. Treacle. Mungbeans. Top hat . . .” the Dormouse murmured.

  Additional Rocking-Horse-Flies buzzed around. The Hatter suddenly slid onto the stump beside me and handed me a full teacup, liquid sloshing over the rim. “Now we share while we enjoy our fares. What brings you here?” he asked.

  “We are waiting out the Storm of Lights,” I replied. The Hatter hopped on the table and by that means stomped back to his original seat. Settled, he began pouring Daniel a cup of tea. The contents of the teapot dispensed onto the ground for several seconds before the Hatter realized and adjusted his aim.

  “That is a boring answer,” he said.

  “It was your question,” I responded.

  “Give me better answers so I can ask better questions. Like, how is a pastry like an answer? Or why is a raven like a writing desk?”

  “Sorry, SJ?” Mauvrey said. “If we are going to stay here for a bit, can I borrow you for a moment to speak privately?” She gestured to the undergrowth tunnel we had come from.

  I glanced at Daniel. “We will only be a few minutes.”

  “A thousand minutes or negative seven, it’ll all be the same here,” the Hatter said. “Our time loop extends for fifty meters in each direction. Isn’t that right, Dahlia?”

  The Hatter addressed the Dormouse, but she kept mumbling about treacle and matchsticks in her sleep. The Dodo continued to sit there unmoving, not even blinking.

  “Don’t stray too far,” Daniel told us.

  “What are you going to talk about?” Kai asked, eyeing Mauvrey over the brim of her teacup, then taking a sip.

  “It is a princess thing,” Mauvrey replied, which I suspected was a lie.

  Kai seemed to suspect the same, but she responded with “Uh-huh.”

  I went through the tunnel with Mauvrey. On the other side, we strayed a bit farther and then paused under some purple trees, the tunnel still partially in view.

  “You remembered something important about Kai,” I guessed. “Back when we heard the music at Mila’s house. That is why you wanted to speak with me.”

  Mauvrey nodded. “I recovered the missing part of that memory I regained in Xanadu. The one where Tara (as me) met with Kai in Camelot.”

  I swallowed nervously. “Okay?”

  “After retrieving Excalibur from Avalon, your group split up on the return trip to Camelot’s citadel. Kai, Daniel, and Jason traveled through the forest. During a brief rest stop, Tara appeared to Kai. She told Kai elements of Arian’s plan for the Vicennalia Aurora, explaining how certain things were about to unfold.”

  Mauvrey closed her eyes, released an exhale, then spoke as if reliving the memory.

  “Kai, listen to me. Arian is predicting that Camelot will fall to your forces tonight and that King Arthur will allow Crisa to take Excalibur to finish your quest. But Arian is going to force her into a trade for the sword. As part of that, I am going to kill you. I will give Crisa a choice between letting you die or saving you by using her magic to destroy Book’s capital. She will choose to save you. She will sacrifice the good of that entire city for your sake and Daniel’s.”

  Mauvrey opened her eyes and readdressed me. “Kai did not believe Tara. She thought Crisa would not use her power to bring harm to so many people. But Tara went on to offer Kai a deal anyway. Tara told Kai not to tell the others about this conversation and learn the truth about who Crisa is for herself. Tara also touched on Kai’s insecurities about being common and alluded that the commons rebellion would ultimately fail because of Crisa’s intervention. As such, if Kai wanted, once revived, she could have a position within the antagonists’ ranks, and together they would stop Crisa from destroying Book and the commons’ chance at a fair life.”

  It took me a long moment to absorb all this information. At first, I was not sure what my next move should be. Then fate sent a sign. We heard footsteps. Mauvrey and I ducked behind a bush and eyed the tunnel through the foliage. It was Kai. She glanced around then started walking off somewhere.

  “What is she up to now?” Mauvrey asked.

  “I could not say,” I responded. We both stood. “But I am not letting her cause any more trouble. Kai is most certainly the person who gave you the Magic Mite, Mauvrey. I do not want her to hurt you again, and she is too unpredictable. Go back to the Tea Party. She and I need to have a private chat.”

  “Should I get Daniel? This seems like something we should all handle together.”

  I shook my head. “She is different around him, and I want to talk to her without Daniel coming to her defense. Given everything we have learned, Kai is an excellent liar and I am not taking any chances here with the truth. I will be back.”

  I darted through the trees in the direction Kai had gone, her footprints fresh in the dirt. After a minute, the trees thinned. The Storm of Light was dying down. Then—surprisingly—I could see the edge of the cliff.

  How was that possible? Had the terrain somehow twisted and taken me on a shortcut back here?

  I turned around, trying to reorient myself, and gasped as a large section of forest ballooned out and then squished together. It was as if the earth was breathing. When the land settled, certain areas had diminished in size, some trees abruptly disintegrated into nothingness, and other, fully-grown trees sprouted from previously barren areas. The land was changing, and thus it brought the cliff that dropped to the River of Tears even closer behind me.

  From there I finally laid eyes on Kai. She was in a clearing I had not noticed previously, filled with a collection of writing desks. Kai leaned over one—writing with a quill on a piece of parchment.

  “Kai?” I said loudly as I approached.

  All the writing desks abruptly contorted, shrunk, and turned into a flock of ravens that flew into the sky.

  “What are you writing, Kai? What are you doing out here?”

  “Forget about it, SJ,” Kai said, folding the parchment and shoving it in her pocket. She started to walk away from me.

  “You would like that, I suppose. You would like Mauvrey to forget too. That is why you gave her the Magic Mite.”

  Kai froze with her back to me about fifteen feet away.

  “I know the truth about you, Kai,” I continued. “Mauvrey remembered how you first met Tara. The antagonists turned you after Century City and you have been spying for them ever since. You gave Mauvrey the Magic Mite so she would kill herself before she remembered that.”

  Kai did not move or turn. A breeze blew as the ravens circled overhead. The Storm of Lights was calming down. The clouds were parting and the lightning had become scarce.

  Suddenly Kai spun around. Her body glowed with silver energy. Before I could reach my slingshot, my body lit up too and I was flung across the clearing.

  I clambered to my hands and knees in the dirt, but when I tried to get up, more silver energy enveloped me and I was forced back down. Kai walked toward me.

  “You’re very smart, SJ, but not very tactful. You know how I’ve managed to stay under everyone’s radar this lon
g? Always be the smartest person in the room, but never let anybody know it.”

  I cringed. The Godmother Supreme had given me that exact advice. I could not believe that I was learning it the hard way.

  Kai continued to shine with magic energy as she used her powers to float my form a few inches off the ground. She crouched in front of me.

  “You’re right, of course. After Century City, I started to understand the threat that Crisa posed to the world, and the commons. I tried to resist seeing her that way for a while, but she kept getting more powerful, destroying the commons’ chance to overthrow the protagonists.”

  “You turned on us out of spite for main characters?”

  “I chose a better path in the name of protecting people who aren’t born into privilege. That was part of it, at least. The other part, the stronger motivation, has always been Daniel. He used to be mine, the most important thing in my life and the biggest part of my future. But after meeting Crisa and all of you, he changed. He has been drifting away from me, and the more time he spends caught up in your main character world, the more I have fallen into the shadows of his life. So I decided to fight back. I lay in wait for the right information to help the antagonists—a hidden passageway here, a quick update on your plans there. The best, most useful intel I gathered came to fruition this summer.”

  Kai leaned in and whispered, “Do you want to know a secret?”

  She abruptly waved her hand and threw me sideways into a tree. I rolled to the dirt, breath knocked out of me and body throbbing. Her magic grabbed me again and held me up in the air directly in front of her. She straightened up and met my gaze.

  “It is very rare for a person to be able to host a Shadow, but there is a way to determine eligibility. People who can host Shadows do not project shadows of their own when they sleep. Thanks to your internship with Merlin, I got to share a room with Blue and Crisa, and lo and behold, they were both eligible. When I told Arian, he formed a plan to manipulate Crisa into taking a Shadow in Dreamland. The intention was always to get her to Earth after that—a place where he could push her to lose control of her powers and she’d succumb to her Shadow’s darkness and the corruptive nature of her magic. She’d transform into the antagonist she was always meant to be.”