"As to the matter of your offering, I do have a suggestion. There is an item-- a pair of them, rather-- that have been lost to me. I would greatly like them returned."
"Sure, that sounds fine," Alice said. "What are they?"
"Do not agree quite so quickly. The task would not be a simple one. The mortal who now possesses them is targeted by many powerful forces, and she merely keeps them herself. One who tried to return them to their rightful owner, who took them out of mortals' grasp entirely . . . her enemies would be countless and without pity."
Alice swallowed hard. "Oh." She looked over at the mermaid-- not exactly her first choice for advice in such a situation, especially since she currently couldn't speak. The other woman was staring at her, and though she'd seen irritation and surprise and mostly a default blankness there before, now she saw desperation, and it made her look away uncomfortably.
All right. So the search might get her into trouble. Smee was definitely in trouble, and so was Wendy, and if something wasn't done about the Queen then she and all of her friends-- and Snow-- would be hunted down like rabid dogs. "I'll do it."
“Then the agreement is made.”
And they were gone from the Door-filled chamber, once again on the shoreline of the Lagoon. Only now Scheherazade was there, too. Most of the others automatically bowed, and Alice quickly did so as well, hoping that would make up for the fact that she hadn't done so before.
“A bargain has been struck,” Scheherazade said. “I will give you time to retrieve your friend, and in exchange, Alice will retrieve the ruby slippers that a fellow mortal from her old world now holds.”
From her old world, Alice thought. And that's what it truly was now. The idea of her apartment and her landlord and her job seemed as alien to her now as castles and enchanted forests would've once seemed. She reached out for Snow's hand.
“And my daughter,” Scheherazade said, turning to the purple-tailed mermaid. “You have paid a heavy price in order to obtain my help.”
She looked to Smee, who had grown disturbingly still. Alice watched, wide-eyed, as the water of the Lagoon rose, enveloping him, and when it receded again, he was gone. “Hey,” she murmured. “Wait a minute. You can't just--”
Snow squeezed her hand, and Alice nodded once. She'd listen to her for now, but if Smee didn't walk back up on shore in a minute or two then she and Scheherazade were going to have words.
She watched the water carefully, smiling when a large circle several feet out from shore began to glow gold. Then the mermaid resurfaced, smiling, and tugging Smee to the surface.
Alice started to call out to him, to welcome him back, when he leaned back in the water and revealed a dark gold tail.
“Look!” he yelled, a wide grin on his face. “I'm a mermaid! Or merman! Whichever; I have a tail!”
He laughed, the Captain's laughter joining him, and then Alice heard something that made tears prick at her eyes. Out in the water, next to Smee, the mermaid was laughing, too.
“Thanks,” she said, moving closer to Scheherazade.
The Goddess slanted her a look. “So you've decided not to lecture me?”
“Um, about that . . . once in a while I talk before I think, and--”
“Once in a while?” Snow asked.
“Hey now.”
The trees behind them rustled, and Alice glanced back. The Prince was there, followed by Tink and the White Rabbit. All of them looked shaken. “Hey. Everything okay?”
“Better and worse than it was,” the White Rabbit said. “Find things, lose things.”
Then Tinker Bell and the Prince both caught sight of Scheherazade, and bowed. The White Rabbit looked to her, nodded absently, and scratched at his beard.
“Once you reach the palace gates, you will have nineteen minutes of stillness,” Scheherazade said. “Use them wisely.”
Chapter Sixteen
Once Upon a Time...
She couldn't believe she'd used to live out here.
Cinderella hastily made her way through the small, pitiful Village, wishing for the reassurance and safety of high arched marble ceilings and clean floors under her feet.
But she had to be out here. Because the one reassurance in her life that was even greater than her home was somewhere in those woods. She would've lectured Mother Miriam for her rash action if it wouldn't have tipped off the older woman as to what she intended to do.
Miriam knew anyway, she thought with a sigh as she came to the edge of the Village, and slowly approached the trees. She'd kept her face impassive when she'd smashed the necklace, had agreed with Mother Miriam that it had been a necessary action, but somehow she was certain the woman could see right through her.
She'd have to get better at keeping her emotions hidden, she thought. After all, she would be Queen before tomorrow's sunset. It wouldn't do to--
To what? Here she thought of controlling her emotions even as she went headlong into the forest. A Queen wouldn't risk herself for the sake of some silly temporary emotion. She would get back to the palace immediately and continue preparing her speech for the coronation ceremony.
Cinderella stepped into the forest's shadows, and realized that Mother Miriam had been right-- she still did need some guidance before she was ready to rule entirely on her own.
She hesitantly walked further into the woods, pulling her thick coat tighter around herself. She half-expected one of the monsters from childhood stories to leap out at her any second.
And this was ridiculous, she suddenly decided. She wasn't a simpering young girl lost in the woods. She was a Queen, still within sight of her Village and her people. She pulled her hood down and called out, voice strong. "Wolfram! If you can hear me, come out at once!"
"Already have," he said, his voice coming from right behind her, and she yelped in a very un-Queenly manner and spun around.
"How many times have I told you to not. . ."
Then she trailed off, because the words simply reminded her of all the other times when he'd snuck up on her, intentionally or not, and the way they'd laughed and the look in his eyes now that had never been there before. She cleared her throat. "Come back," she said simply. "Mother Miriam was-- she was simply worried. She'll remove this curse."
"She was right to worry. If she removes the curse I'll talk to everyone who'll listen. And she knows it."
"Why?"
"Do you mean to tell me you truly see nothing wrong with what you did?"
"I did not wish to do it. That does not mean it was wrong," Cinderella insisted. "If Gold-Tree had continued, war would've been declared, and many more than she would've lost their lives. She wouldn't listen to me, wouldn't listen to your mother-- what should I have done?"
"You mean to tell me my mother had no containment spell?" He stepped forward, and for the first time she had to fight to keep from retreating. "But something contained could've been set free again one day. And that would've threatened your throne. Am I right?"
Knowing that her silence was condemning her, Cinderella turned away. He grabbed her shoulder, turned her back.
"Am I right?" he repeated.
"She had no place ruling! She did nothing to prepare for it and it would've gotten us all killed, we--"
"You're justifying what you wanted to do because--"
"Stop talking."
"Because the Kingdom loved her instead of you. I saw your face during their speeches. When she'd make a joke and he'd laugh, and they'd both move in front of you without ever realizing it. Or maybe they did realize. That's what you believed, isn't it?"
"It doesn't matter anymore," she whispered. "She had to be dealt with. You-- tell me you know why I did what I did."
"Yes. I know."
"Then come back.” She hesitated, knowing if she could feel the desperation in her heart then he could surely hear it in her voice and she hated it, it made her feel weak, but she couldn't help the feeling that she'd just cut loose her anchor and so she went on, trying to keep her tone measured. "I would have you at my s
ide when I ascend the throne tomorrow."
He smiled gently, and kissed her cheek, and she knew.
"Goodbye, Ella."
Her eyes were closed, and she kept them closed against the sound of footsteps moving away, against a flash of gold-green light, telling herself that when she opened them again there would be no emotion there. She would walk back to the palace calmly, her head held high and her expression unreadable. If she couldn't tame her heart, she could at least tame the rest of her body.
Several moments later, she felt ready, and opened her eyes. A pile of clothes lay at the edge of the small clearing, and she remembered Mother Miriam telling her the details of the curse.
Cinderella turned and walked away. Pulling the hood of her coat up to hide her telltale red hair, she left the woods. And though she hesitated for a fraction of a second at the sound of a mournful howl, she didn't look back.
"Is it finished?"
Fiametta looked back at the Queen, instinctively trying to stall. The Queen had wanted this potion for some time, yes, but she'd never heard this level of intensity in her voice before. And her eyes . . . her ruler had never seemed less than absolutely composed, but now she looked wild. "Well, there are still some testing stages to go through and--"
"Allow me to rephrase," she said quietly, drawing a knife. "Is it finished?"
Fiametta swallowed hard. "I believe so, my Queen."
And as the Red Queen took the bottle from her hand, Fiametta cursed her own cowardice. Of course the idea had crossed her mind before to give the Queen a fatal poison instead, put an end to this, but she'd managed to convince herself that it wasn't nearly so bad as to require means that drastic. Even after the rumors that the Queen was solely responsible for Snow White's disappearance, she had talked herself into believing it was nothing more than palace talk.
And after Catherine, after the Prince had returned and spoken of what he now knew, after Beckah's death, after the horrifying events in the Shadow City . . . she had simply been afraid. For it was said that powerful enough sorcerers-- and Mother Miriam certainly fit that description-- could tell who had made a certain potion just by resting their hand on the skin of the one who'd drank it. If she murdered the Queen, her life would be taken in turn. And it would not be a fast death.
Now, as the Queen gave her a smile that made her hands start shaking, Fiametta wondered what her own fear of death might have just unleashed upon her home, upon her friends.
The Queen strode down the hallway, her gaze locking upon the first Guard she saw. "You," she said. "Take a sip from this."
He paused, staring at the vial. "Um. What is--"
"I did not ask for questions, Guard. I told you to drink. Not very much, now."
"No worries there," he muttered, and she asked herself why she hadn't fired this insolent man far sooner. His mother had once been a member of a harem, and when he'd come to the palace as a boy years ago seeking work, Gold-Tree had immediately created a job for him as a greeter at the main gates. After Gold-Tree had been taken care of, she'd toyed with the idea of letting him go, but had finally told herself that it wouldn't be the action of a good ruler to dismiss someone who needed work simply because her predecessor had taken a liking to him.
Now, however, she knew that she should've followed her first instinct.
"Perfect," she said, after he had taken a tiny drink. She handed him another vial, and took the first one back, holding it gingerly. "Now this one."
Still looking skeptical, he took a quick drink from the second vial, and handed it back to her. "Would you please tell me what this is about, Your Highness? What was that?"
"Well, the second was one of Mother Miriam's deadliest poisons. You should've started having convulsions the moment it touched your tongue. But you clearly don't feel poorly at all."
"I wouldn't say that," he said, his face growing pale.
She grinned, deigning to rest her hand on his shoulder. For a brief moment, she felt a cheerful camaraderie with the young man, even if he was poor on manners. "Don't sound so put-upon. You're going to live forever."
Then she raised the vial of immortality to her lips, and drank.
***
Nineteen minutes.
They stood at the edge of the forest, the palace looming above them. The place had never felt more foreboding and massive. And they had only nineteen minutes to get into place. Nineteen minutes to find Wendy, reach the tower room, open the Door, stop the Queen.
It felt impossible. But as Hook looked at the somber faces gathered around him, he knew they were at least united. They knew what was at stake, what the repercussions could be. And they were still daft enough to try it.
He felt a warm rush of gratitude and camaraderie for this band of misfits; he couldn’t have asked for a better crew.
“Wolf?” Snow White said softly.
He stood at the very boundary, nose lifted to catch the breeze. One more step and his curse would take effect-- at that point, there would be no more spoken communication from him. And that one step would start the clock. They all knew how important this last moment was.
“I’ve got her scent,” he said. “I can follow it. I can find her.” His eyes met Hook’s, and the pirate saw understanding and reassurance there. This cursed man knew what it was to fear for the life of the woman you loved; he would not let them down.
“Everyone ready?”
They weren’t, not really. No amount of preparation could calm the nerves or steady the limbs. But there was no time left. They all knew it. And so they nodded and turned to their Princess.
“Let’s go.”
Wolf did not step across the boundary-- he leapt, shedding his clothes in his wake and breaking into a loping gait. Hook and Snow drew their swords, Alice took a knife in hand, and the group followed in quick pursuit.
Hook had led dozens of boarding parties, had cut and shot and rammed his way through any number of blockades and soldiers. But this was the most surreal invasion he could have imagined. Doors burst open before them and they ran past liveried guards and servants who stood frozen in place, some in mid-step and others in mid-gesture with opened mouths. Their footsteps were thunderous in the unnatural silence, and the air felt thick and cold against the skin. This was what the world looked, felt, sounded like in the slices between seconds. When past, present, and future no longer existed. It was the sliver between waking and dreaming, life and death, and Hook knew why Scheherazade had only given them nineteen minutes: humans could not live in this in-between world. Longer than nineteen minutes could drive a man mad.
But he pushed those thoughts away and kept his eyes firmly on the wolf as he darted down halls and ran up the stairs. He was taking them to Wendy, and for now that was all that mattered. Hook knew the part he had to play, and he would accomplish it no matter what it took.
At the head of the stairs the wolf paused and lifted his muzzle to sniff deeply.
For a heartbeat, Hook panicked. What if the scent was impossible to track now, in this frozen time? But then the dark ears pricked forward and the wolf turned down the right-hand hall. He stopped again before a heavy, closed door, and rasped his claws against the wood.
“The Library?” Snow said, twisting the doorknob sharply.
Indeed, a library that surely must be the biggest in the world. Hook would never be much of a reader, but even he was staggered and awed. It was the sort of room that felt inviolable and holy. There was the sense that nothing bad could ever happen here; that this was a hallowed hall of learning.
The wolf went immediately to the largest wall of bookcase and began pawing at the shelves, whining.
“This can’t be right,” Snow said. “I’ve explored every inch of this room over the years.”
“Every inch?” Hook demanded incredulously. “Even the bits that stretch into infinity?”
“There must be a passage,” Alice said. “It’s one of the sacred laws of castles: there’s always a hidden passage in the library.”
“This isn’t some story from your world, Alice,” the Prince said.
“But Wolf’s tracked her scent to this room. They brought her through here. Ergo, there must be a passage.” Alice studied the shelves, flashing back to that fateful day when Snow had caught her here indulging her curiosity. And just as it had before, one book in particular caught her eye. “I wonder. . .”
The pirate captain pulled the fob watch from his vest pocket, glancing down at it as it dangled from his hook. “No rush, lass; we’ve only got ten minutes left is all.”
Alice yanked the ladder over with a shrill squeak of wheels and began to climb.
She stretched out a hand, gripped The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe: Being the First Adventure In the Land of Narnia, and pulled it off the shelf.
There was an audible click as it slid free, and a door-sized section of the bookcase swung silently inward.
“I knew it,” Alice said with a grin of triumph. “Some truths are just universally acknowledged.”
Snow grabbed for her hand as she dropped down; the wolf was already streaking into the darkness, tail swishing. They quickly followed, weapons held close as the tunnel began to slant downwards. The entrance had become a distant square of light when a set of torches held in wall sconces flared into life.
“Helpful,” the Prince muttered, feet crunching over a mouse’s skeleton. “Now we can see the nastiness we’re walking in.”
The wolf barked ahead and they all increased their pace. Hook felt his heart quicken beneath his breast, the surge of adrenaline leaving a metallic taste in his mouth, and he pushed his way to the front as the door became visible in the flickering torchlight.
There was an old, rusted padlock, but he sliced at it with a strength born of desperation. The second blow proved too much for the old iron, and the severed pieces clattered loudly against the stone floor. Hook wrenched upon the door and almost fell into the dark, windowless room.
It was a dungeon in every sense of the word. Wendy lay against the floor, her arms chained to the wall behind her. She had been asleep or unconscious when Scheherazade had stopped the clock; her eyes were closed and brow furrowed, body limp against the cold floor. She looked ragged and exhausted in the feeble light, but there were no overt signs of torture. Hook spared a moment to thank the Goddess for that, one small burden lifted from his shoulders, as he crouched beside her.
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