by Shannon Hale
“Why a baby bandersnatch?” Baba Yaga was asking herself, tapping the wart on her chin with her finger.
“We should let the little fella go,” Hunter said. “The momma bear could be mighty angry.”
“Or she could, oh, I don’t know, also be transformed into a bandersnatch?” suggested Apple.
Apple pointed. Cedar looked.
A momma-bear-sized bandersnatch was lumbering toward them, drool oozing out of her spiky-toothed jaw, trails of curling green gas sputtering from her nether end, generally resembling a giant people-eating guinea pig that was having a really bad day.
She stood on her hind legs and grunt-roared.
“Off with its head!” shouted Lizzie.
Daring drew his sword with a flash of steel and an equally brilliant flash of a white-toothed smile.
“I’m just the prince for the job,” he said.
Lizzie smiled in surprise that someone was actually taking her seriously. Daring winked.
Students screamed and ran, but Cedar still had a bear cub latched to her arm. She yanked at it. “Come on, teddy-weddy, just let go of me, please.”
“Fear not,” said Daring. “I’ll protect you!”
“As will I!” Hunter loosed the ax from his belt and struck the Huntsman-To-the-Rescue Pose, fists on hips, shoulders thrown back, feet apart. From nowhere, trumpets blasted a heroic fanfare. Hunter nodded to the magical trumpet tune. He had, no doubt, heard it many times in his life.
“Headmaster, I don’t like this,” said Baba Yaga, sniffing the air.
“Don’t be alarmed, fair—uh, noble sorceress,” said Hunter. “We are well-schooled in defending damsels—uh, anyone—from ferocious beasts.”
The trees around the momma bandersnatch shook. Yellow eyes lit up the shadows, and a herd of bandersnatches lumbered out. Cedar counted… nine, ten, eleven… fourteen full-size bandersnatches, eyes glowing, mouths drooling, nethers gassing.
“Yes, that’s what I don’t like,” Baba Yaga muttered.
Students began to scream.
“Magic is afoot!” cried Professor Jack B. Nimble.
Baba Yaga cast a magical barrier, encaging the bevy of bandersnatches inside a sparking yellow dome. The bandersnatches grunt-roared and clawed at the magical cage, sparks flying from their paws. Cedar wondered if the cage would hold.
“Students, get out of here!” Headmaster Grimm shouted.
“Help?” Cedar whispered.
“Let! Go!” said Raven. She zapped the bear cub with a bolt of purple magic, and the cub squeaked and opened its jaws. Cedar set it down, and it galloped back toward the momma bandersnatch.
And still the bandersnatches advanced, the magical dome sparking and twinkling, its yellow color fading.
“Go straight to Ever After High and do not leave that building until we return!” the headmaster shouted.
Mr. Badwolf dropped to all fours and transformed into his wolf shape, growling, his black lips trembling. He turned to howl something over his shoulder.
“Okay!” Cerise Hood answered back. She grabbed Raven’s and Cedar’s hands. “We need to get out of here. Now.”
Cedar had never run so fast, partly because she was fleeing a mountaintop crawling with strange, growling, sticky, pungent monsters, but mostly because Cerise Hood was dragging her along at her own speed. And by the Blue-Haired Fairy’s wand, that girl could run.
Madeline Hatter was skipping beside them.
“How are you skipping so fast?” Cedar asked, her words shaking with the force of her pounding feet.
“I don’t know,” Maddie said, bounding along, not at all out of breath. “I’d never tried speed-skipping before, but I thought this was the perfect time for it. I am now making a point to not ask you if speed-skipping is impossible in Ever After, because if it is, Cedar will have to tell me the truth and then it might stop working. So, what’s going on, anyway?”
“We’re not really sure,” said Raven.
“Oh, good,” said Maddie. “It’s a relief when everyone else is as confuse-boggled as I am. I feel so cozy, like a bundle of puppies in a box.”
“That’s cozy?” Cerise huffed.
Maddie giggled. “It is if you’re one of the puppies. And if you’re confuse-boggled, of course. If you know you’re in a box, then you start thinking things like ‘why am I in a box?’ and ‘who put me here?’ It just makes you nervous. I, for one, am glad we don’t know we’re in a box.”
“Oh,” Cedar said in a small voice. She didn’t feel cozy at all.
THE JOURNEY DOWN THE MOUNTAINSIDE was fraught with peril, mostly in the form of Briar Beauty. Apple White naturally took the lead, searching for sensible paths through thickets and down ledges. But Briar, her best friend forever after, was constantly picking more “interesting” paths.
“Come on, this way looks fun!” she said, grabbing Apple’s hand and nearly vaulting with her over a cliff.
“Briar,” said Apple, “perhaps a good goal would be not only to make it down the mountain, but also make it down alive.”
“Don’t be such a snooze.” Briar lifted her crownglasses to look her friend in the eye. “We’re fleeing a bloat of bandersnatches, hurtling ourselves over unfamiliar terrain in a gasping fight for our very lives. This is, like, the best chapter ever after.”
Briar grabbed a clutch vine and swung over a boulder.
Blondie Lockes held up her MirrorPad, filming Briar’s daring moves and the dark shadows of the forest, and narrating in an ominous voice. This adventure was going to make a hexcellent episode of her MirrorCast show.
Madeline Hatter, as the only character who could hear the Narrator, was listening intently to the narration. But she did not interrupt. Because she had promised so faithfully she would not interrupt anymore.
That’s right, cutie-patootie Narrator. You’ll get no interrupting from me!
Ashlynn and Hunter kept “accidentally” brushing against each other as they walked, the backs of their fingers knocking together, their knuckles grasping, until Duchess Swan finally yelled, “Oh, just hold hands, already! Everyone knows you’re dating!”
Humphrey Dumpty mumbled rhymes to himself as he walked—or wobbled, actually, his thin legs trembling dangerously with each step. For the field trip, he’d completely encased himself in a thick coat of Bubble Wrap. Just in case.
Raven Queen and Dexter Charming chatted as they jogged through the woods, playing a game called What’s More Evil?
“A pinecone is more evil than a pine needle,” Raven said.
“Really?” Dexter said. “What about pine needle versus pine sap?”
“Um, pine sap,” said Raven. “So what’s more evil, pine sap or squirrel?”
“Squirrel, definitely,” said Dexter.
Kitty Cheshire was—
“Wishing to remain private, thank you,” said Kitty.
Oh! I didn’t realize Kitty could hear me, too!
“Me neither!” said Maddie. “That’s breakfast-tastic, Kitty!”
Kitty hissed.
Very well. Ahem. Lizzie Hearts kept to the front of the group, keeping pace with Apple, correcting all her decisions, and declaring things like “This way!” and “That way!” and “By the way!”
“Relax, Lizzie,” said Briar. “Apple is in charge, and she’s leading us just fine.”
“One does not order a crown princess of Wonderland to relax!” said Lizzie.
“This isn’t Wonderland, so stop trying to rule.”
Lizzie stiffened everywhere—her shoulders, her spine, and especially her upper lip—and wished very hard she had an army of card soldiers at her command.
Madeline Hatter had begun playing leapfrog with Hopper Croakington II. Or so she thought. Hopper wasn’t actually playing.
He’s not? Oh, thank you, Narrator. That’s why he keeps glaring with the beady eyes and pouty lip and grumbles of “Why do you keep vaulting over my head?”
Maddie! You were doing so well at not interrupting.
&nb
sp; Why, thank you, Narrator, dear, and that is why I’m barely interrupting at all. I learn so much about narration by listening to you, you know, such as how you’re using this travel time to give us updates on all the main characters, revealing more about them through descriptions of what they’re doing. How cleverful!
Thank you. It’s a basic technique I learned in Narration School. But I really shouldn’t—
I know, I know, no more with the barging and the pestering and the mouth flippy-flapping. Narrate on! Ooh, wait, one quickish question first.
Maddie, you know I can’t answer your questions.
Well, it’s just that a baby bear was bandersnatched, and either the big bears were bandersnatched, too, or there were actual true bandersnatches back there. And a bandersnatch is a Wonderlandian beast! So what are they doing in Ever After?
Um…
You know, don’t you?
Er…
Come on, just a hint. You’re so good at accidentally giving me teensy-weensy-bleensy hints.
Not this time! This Narrator refuses to be tricked! This Narrator is a shining example of rule-following technique! So, let’s fast forward.… The group finally reached bottom, made their way to the nearest wishing well, and wishing-welled it back to Ever After High. Okay, then, next chapter!
THE GREAT JABBERWOCK, TERROR OF WONDERLAND, was still grumpy. It had been having such a frabjous dream of buttered bandersnatches when that crashing, smashing, bitter-bashing sound of a broken magic mirror had torn it away. Now it was awake and trapped in Ever After, a land entirely without bandersnatches, buttered or otherwise.
The bears had tasted too sweet, not nearly crunchy enough, and more like meat than madness. After the Jabberwock’s magic melted away their bear-ness and filled in the holes with bandersnatch-ness, the taste had improved, though they still got stuck in the Jabberwock’s gullet.
Too long it had been caged, trapped, and cut off from Wonderland. Its magic needed recharging.
The Jabberwock leaped from treetop to treetop. It could fly, but flight was exhausting in the thin air of this not-home place, and it was still tired. It yawned angrily, breath stinking of decaying magic and the meat of false bandersnatches.
The beast had gotten lost from Wonderland long ago, but its bowels were still pulsing with wonder, though a rotting, twisted kind of wonder. Its hot breath slurped and crawled out of its mouth, transforming whatever it touched. The Jabberwock exhaled, and the tree bending beneath its weight brightened to a vivid green and sprouted pumpkins instead of pinecones. The tree was not exactly what it would have been in Wonderland, but at least it was closer. Could the beast alter this un-peculiar land entirely? Make it more like home? No, not without more power.
The Jabberwock caught a whiff of tiny Alice-things fleeing the far edge of the forest. It smiled, its gray lips curling around a huge set of buckteeth. The Card, the Cat, and the Hatter were nearby. It could smell them. It could feel the fresh Wonder emanating from their bodies. Wonder it would need if it was to shape this world to its liking.
The Jabberwock heaved up and took flight. Its massive, batlike wings shook the air, its deep purple shadow sending the forest creatures shivering into holes. It dived, mouth open, claws out ready to seize, when suddenly the Card, the Cat, and the Hatter disappeared into a wishing well. Vanished. Too fast, as if the story they were in had suddenly sped up, pages flipping faster than the narration should allow.
The Jabberwock reeled in the air, skronking with rage. It would stalk these Wonderlings. It would follow them wherever they went, and one by one it would squeeze every last drop of Wonder from their bones.
And then, maybe, it would eat them.
WORMS!” LIZZIE YELLED THE MOMENT SHE emerged from the wishing well on the grounds of Ever After High.
“What?” said Cedar.
“Where?” said Apple with a small shudder.
“Gross!” yelled Blondie.
“Yay!” said Maddie.
“Um,” said Raven, “what worms, Lizzie?”
“And by worms, I mean people!” Lizzie shouted, hoping the strength of her mother’s words would clarify things. She noticed that the confused stares only got confused-er.
“And by people,” Lizzie continued, “I mean Wonder people. Er… I mean Kitty and Maddie. The Wonderlandians.”
“Wonder Worms are go!” shouted Maddie, striking an action pose and then wiggling toward Lizzie. “Lady Catworm!” Maddie called to Kitty Cheshire, who hadn’t moved an inch. “Make haste! We have been summoned!”
Kitty shrugged and disappeared, reappearing beside Lizzie.
“Hatworm and Catworm at your service, O Lizard Queen,” Maddie said, giving Lizzie a wiggly bow.
“Don’t call me that,” Lizzie and Kitty said in unison.
Maddie straightened from the wormy stance. “Fine, party poops. What’s the story?”
“I have something to discuss with both of you,” Lizzie said, turning her back on them. “Let’s go to the Grove.”
“To the Grove, Catworm!” Maddie shouted heroically, and was rewarded with a hiss just as Kitty popped out of sight.
Lizzie breathed in as they left the school grounds and crossed into the Grove. Some days the rich, candied scents made her heart feel light and floaty as bubble birds. Sometimes the smells made her feel achy for home, as heavy and slow as a steel scarecrow. Today she felt nervous and jittery as if she had swallowed handfuls of live hornets.
Which she hadn’t, just to clarify. One never knew with Lizzie.
“Citizens of Wonderland,” Lizzie began.
Kitty looked over her shoulder, as if expecting more people to be there.
“As the representatives of our world in exile, it is our responsibility…” Lizzie was already bored with her own speech. She sighed. “Look, there were bandersnatches up there. I am certain that when we escaped Wonderland with the White Queen and Maddie’s dad, no bandersnatches sneaked out with us.” Were the ways to Wonderland reopening? Or had the bandersnatches found a secret way out and come looking for the lost Wonderlandian princess? Hope shivered in Lizzie.
Kitty purred, “I know of something else Wonderlandian here without permission.”
“She means the Jabberwock,” Maddie whispered.
“No, I don’t!” Kitty’s pale purple hair seemed fluffier, standing on end at the mention of the monster. She hissed, “Don’t say its name out loud! I just meant the jubjub bird I was chasing on the mountaintop during that riddle-diculous play.”
“A jubjub bird, too? Maybe we should talk to the White Queen,” Maddie said.
“Very well,” Lizzie said. “I’m glad I was able to get you to that conclusion. We will find the White Queen and demand of her an explanation.”
“Or we could just ask,” Maddie said.
“Or we could just ask!” Lizzie shouted as if it were a battle cry, pointing her scepter at the school.
They headed to the White Queen’s office. Empty. They investigated the faculty lunchroom. Void. They peeked into likely classrooms. Nil. Then they began to get creative.
Sometime later, Maddie flung open the last stall door in the teachers’ restroom. “Aha!” she shouted, but no one was there.
“She’s hiding from us,” Lizzie said. “The White Queen must know something and knows that we know she knows and wants to keep the knowing from us.”
“But how can she if we already know she knows?” Maddie asked.
“The extra knowing,” Lizzie said, nodding wisely. “The knowing about why there are bandersnatches and jubjub birds. Not the knowing that she knows.”
“Oh,” said Maddie. “So she’s hiding from us. Good hiding.”
“Too good!” Lizzie shouted. “I won’t allow it! People can’t just disappear!”
At that, Kitty disappeared.
“Present company excepted, of course,” Lizzie muttered.
Kitty reappeared sitting on the bathroom counter. “Searching for the White Queen has been fun and all, especially the b
it where Lizzie got stuck in the crawl space, but you’ll never find her. You’ve probably noticed there are lots of people not at the school today.”
“I assumed they were hiding like the White Queen,” Maddie said, “to make this game of hide-and-seek more fun.”
“She wasn’t playing hide-and-seek,” said Kitty.
Maddie threw up her hands. “Am I expected to keep track of every game and who is and isn’t playing all the time?”
“The faculty and most of the students are still on their field trips,” Kitty said, pulling out her MirrorPhone to check her teeth. “Only our group came back early.”
“I know that, of course. I just wanted to make sure you knew it, too.” Lizzie’s eyes narrowed. “But you didn’t see fit to tell us this before because…?”
“Because watching you two run about like madwomen is fun.”
“She does have a point,” Maddie said.
Lizzie dialed the White Queen on her MirrorPhone. No answer. Her voice mail picked up.
“I am busy right now,” said the White Queen’s recorded voice. “Please call back ten minutes ago.”
The door to the restroom pushed open.
“Here you are!” said Briar. “Everyone’s meeting in Apple and Raven’s dorm room. Some of the students are hextremely upset about what happened on the mountain, and Apple thought some soothing talk could help.”
“Okay!” Maddie said, un-straightening her hat and hopping out the door.
“Soothing talk?” Kitty asked. “Royals and Rebels together, sharing nonjudgmental and openhearted opinions?”
“Totally,” Briar said.
“I’m there,” Kitty said, fading until all but her mouth remained. “There’s bound to be a tasty fight,” the smiling mouth said, and then it, too, disappeared.
“I don’t see how sitting around babbling could be soothing, let alone productive,” Lizzie said.
“Come on, Lizzie,” said Briar. “I’ll be there, so it’s sure to be a blast!”