Shards Of The Glass Slipper: Queen Alice
Page 12
“You will tell Queen Alice that the kingdom here welcomes her with death and violence. War is to be inevitable.” Rabbit said.
“I will tell her no such thing! I will tell her you are a traitor bent on sending Wonderland to war!” The wounded scout spat at Rabbit with spit and blood.
“I am trying to save Wonderland!” Rabbit yelled back angrily. Foot still planted firmly on the man’s chest, he nocked another arrow in place. “And I didn’t say I needed you alive to deliver the message!” He growled.
Rabbit drew the bowstring back and leveled the arrow at the scout’s forehead. The scout eyes widened and he stopped struggling.
“You’ll get the message across better if you’re dead,” said Rabbit.
Rabbit pulled back and fired the arrow.
A short time later, Rabbit watched as the dodo trotted back down the trail. Rabbit had lashed the dead body of the scout securely to the saddle, arrows with the fletching colors of the royal guards of Marchenton still protruding from his body. Rabbit was confident the trained dodo would make its way back to the army. Word would spread throughout the army of what had happened.
The White Rabbit would get his war.
“The Cheshire Cat is the true traitor,” Rabbit reminded himself quietly. “I am a patriot at best, in a conspiracy of patriots in the least.”
***
wonderland, after tea in the royal gardens
of castling palace, some time ago.
It was known by several names - The Black of Hearts, Blackheart, The Queen’s Heart, and Dark of Hearts - but the tall tower that broke the skyline of the Royal Palace of Castling was officially called the Tower of Hearts. Abandoned and left to ruin, the tall spire built of obsidian and onyx stone stood farther back on the grounds, well behind the Royal Palace. It was left standing by Queen Alice as a dark reminder of a more violent time in Wonderland. With outside balconies and archways shaped like hearts, it spiraled fifty-two floors into the sky. The Tower of Hearts was used by the Queen of Hearts as a theater and coliseum; on any given day a lavish show would be produced to entertain her, on another days there would be a brutal pit fight to the death to satisfy her bloodlust. Some days both. Most times the participants didn’t know which it was to be, a show or an execution.
Rabbit hurried down an empty hallway of the tower, past alcoves where statues and royal furniture had once been displayed, and clean spaces on the walls where pictures and tapestries had hung. Taking several twists and turns in the narrow passageway Rabbit descended into a labyrinth of service corridors in the Tower of Heart’s basement.
Rabbit stopped at a nondescript door in the hallway, the only visual difference compared to other doors a single playing card, the Ace of Hearts that was partially sticking out from a crack in the doorjamb.
Making sure he was not followed, Rabbit gave a quick glance around, his whiskers twitching. He was never followed—no one dared enter the Tower of Hearts, he knew, but it never hurt to be cautious. The door was not locked; Rabbit slipped in quietly and shut the door softly behind him. Inside was a small empty closet, on its back wall a make shift rod that held a heavy, crimson curtain with an understated pattern of hearts. Rabbit pulled the curtain aside to reveal a more ornate and regal door of dark polished tulgey wood. He pushed open the heavy door and pulled the red curtain closed behind him as he entered a hidden parlor.
A warm light from candled chandeliers embraced the room softly. Red velvet with a similar heart pattern as the curtain covered the walls. All throughout was more tulgey wood trim and carved columns. Finely crafted tables and chairs were scattered about. In the back of the room was a large bar made of more tulgey wood. Heart motifs abounded.
At one of the tables in the center of the room, the Hatter sat in his subdued checkered suit, fussing with his hat as he waited. The Cheshire Cat floated in a sitting position, just above the chair. The pair was pondering a move over a game of chess when Rabbit entered.
“We don’t have all day, Chesh,” remarked Hatter.
The Cheshire Cat sighed, then motioned with his ethereal paw. “Rook to Queen’s six, if you please, Hatta.”
Hatter shifted in his chair quickly and moved Cheshire’s piece into place.
“I believe that is check,” said Cheshire.
Hatter leaned in over the board and studied the game with narrowed eyes.
“I hate this game,” Hatter muttered. Then his hand shot out quickly and moved his knight into a blocking position.
Cheshire flicked his tail and studied the board again. Rabbit politely cleared his throat to announce his presence. As Cheshire pondered his next move on the chessboard, Hatter beckoned the rabbit over.
“How did your talk go this morning? Did you tell her, or chicken out again?” asked the Hatter with a devilish grin as he pulled a loose stitch on his weathered and worn top hat.
“Do you want me to say it?” Rabbit said. “Fine, you were right, Hatter. I was just fooling myself.”
“I was not looking for an ‘I told you so’, Rabbit. But I’ll take it regardless. I can’t say I’m not surprised either. I’ve watched you pine over her for years, blind to the obvious. I’m sorry, Rabbit. I wish it could have gone a different way. I really do. But you cannot force something that isn’t going to happen, even in Wonderland. You just end up torturing yourself for years with something you can’t have. It’s not healthy,” said Hatter.
“I can’t pick who I choose to fall in love with. I am with her practically every day,” said Rabbit. “But you two are right. It can’t keep going on like this,” Rabbit’s voice cracked slightly.
“Perhaps now you will come around to our way of thinking, my friend,” offered Cheshire.
“That’s why I am here, Chesh,” replied the White Rabbit.
“Excellent!” Hatter said with a gleam in his eye as he placed his hat firmly on the top of his unkempt mess of hair. “So now can we talk about removing Alice from the throne?” He asked as he flicked his king over in resignation.
“But I was winning,” Cheshire frowned at Hatter. With the game over, the little chess pieces began to scurry about on their own, hopping off the table to the chairs and down to the floor in an effort to escape. Amused, the Cheshire Cat slapped his paws about, despite his ethereal body passing through them. “They’re getting away,” he said.
Hatter waved him off and continued talking, “Enough of her roads and schools and holidays, rules and laws and such silly things. That is not what Wonderland is about. It has been perversely twisted into being…” Hatter paused, looking for the correct words.
“Downright normal,” offered the Cheshire Cat as he settled down on the table to engage in the conversation.
“Exactly!” Agreed Hatter. “Wonderland has become stagnant and boring under her reign. You know it, Rabbit. I know it. You’ve heard the grumbling out in the land, Cheshire; discontent hangs mimsy about our land.”
Cheshire nodded in agreement. “It’s true.”
“Yes, I know,” said Rabbit solemnly, then after a pause, “I’m in. What has transpired already and what is it you need of me? Oh, and speaking of grumbling in the land, she has me tracking down that offlander we’ve heard about. She wants to meet with him.”
“This talk of another offlander appearing of his own accord is troubling. Wonderland has a strong history of isolationism,” Cheshire Cat remarked. “A ‘by invitation only’ sort of thing. Only the giants enforce a tighter control of their borders.”
“Well the giants are far more serious in maintaining their distance. By moving to the cloud realms they’ve effectively cut themselves off from everybody,” Rabbit agreed. “You can’t get to them at all.”
“Ah, yes, almost,” corrected Hatter. “A while ago, I was able to establish a contact in the giant’s fortress, an ogress caretaker; I gained her favor with a gold-laying goose and one of those singing harps we have here in Wonderland. And in return for that, I was given passage and information of any word of invasion - just to kee
p tabs, that sort of thing. I kept a looking-glass hidden there since Wonderland has no such arrangement with the giants like a treaty.”
“Rather clever, getting rid of the singing harp… that thing’s been sitting around here forever,” remarked The Cheshire Cat. “Her singing was like claws on slate to me.”
“The giants liked it though. It was one of their prized possessions,” Hatter added. “But they didn’t do a very good job of holding on to it, and that was hardly my problem,” said Hatter. “But the ideal thing was to trick the Giants and the fae-protected kingdom of Marchenton into war with each other. I tried to make it seem that their cherished cloud realm and isolation was under threat from invasion. It worked, but with a bit of hiccup.”
“What was the hiccup?” growled Rabbit.
“The magic in Marchenton was very weak. Which of course is to our advantage, but to convince the giants they were under threat of invasion, I took some of the beans soaked in the oil from the mushrooms and dusted them with Looking Glass dust so that when planted, they would grow into the sky and at the top, a portal into the cloud realm … a direct connection to Marchenton. But I had to find a willing participant to do it for me.”
“The paws would be less dirty, harder to trace back to Wonderland,” added Cheshire Cat.
“I needed an offlander to do it for me; to muddy Wonderland’s magical signature. If I had planted them, it would have stunk of Wonderland all over it. So you see Rabbit, I can be considerate of the treaty, too.”
“Yes, with a giant beanstalk; such an ostentatious plan, Hatter… very subtle,” Rabbit’s comment dripped with sarcasm. “You are lucky the Fae did not investigate,” he chided. “It was bad enough you were even there, Hatter. That’s a violation the Fae-Wonderland treaty.”
“Only if caught, which I wasn’t,” Hatter countered. “It was a very a good plan, and makes perfect sense.”
“Things that make perfect sense to you Hatter, make me nervous,” said Rabbit.
Hatter smiled wickedly, “and that makes perfect sense too,” he said pointing a finger at Rabbit, and then continued. “Anyway, it took a little bit of time but I found a local boy to do it. Magic beans. Offlanders are so gullible sometimes; so naive in magic.”
Hatter walked over to the bar and searched through several empty bottles before finding a full one.
“Ah!” he exclaimed as he poured himself a drink, and then offered to pour a drink for Rabbit, who quietly declined.
“It had to be something big and attention-getting like a giant magic beanstalk; otherwise it wouldn’t be much of a threat, would it?” Hatter set the bottle on the bar then casually leaned back, resting his elbow on the bar top. Settled in, he finally explained to the White Rabbit what had transpired.
***
“What’s your name, boy?” he asked politely.
“Jack Spriggins, sir.”
“Jack, I’m trying to help you out. You’ve spent all day at market and you weren’t able to sell your cow.” The stranger looked over at the dull-eyed beast. “You’re lucky the cow was able to walk all this way without keeling over. A dead cow would be impossible to sell.”
Jack had not considered that. Jack’s mother was concerned she could not make the walk to market and considering how old his cow was, it was a very similar comparison.
The stranger continued, “These beans will grow big and fast. They are…” The stranger paused for a second. “They are fairy-dusted beans. They will give you enough food for the winter, and in the spring, you will be able to sell the beans and make money from that as well. I’ll take good care of the cow. You can even come and visit her, if you like.”
Jack thought about it a moment. It seemed like the logical thing to do, and it was the only option left. He hoped his mother would understand. “Very well, sir. If nothing else, we will have bean soup tonight.” Maybe we could sell the extra beans, Jack thought. People would pay a fortune for magic beans. Who knows, Jack began to wonder if, by next planting season, they would be rich
“Smart boy, Jack. Your mother will be proud. It’s a tough decision.” The stranger offered the sack of beans to Jack as the boy handed over the walking rope for the cow.
“Her name is Milky-White. She likes to eat the tall grass and she loves clover.” Jack said as he patted the cow on the shoulder. “And your name, sir?”
The stranger smiled as he placed the beans in Jack’s hand.
“Matt. Matt Hadder. Nice to do business with you, Jack Spriggins.”
***
“I fed that old cow to a Jabber when I got back,” added Hatter. “Wretched bag of bones that cow was, smelled like dry spoiled milk. I almost felt bad for the Jabber that ate it.”
“Jabbers aren’t that picky,” Cheshire said with a laugh as he momentarily faded from view.
“It’s one thing to plant a beanstalk, and another thing to have it grow, but how did you convince the lad to climb it? Or even an army for that matter?” asked Rabbit as he joined Hatter at the bar.
“A little persuasion,” explained Cheshire, his voice echoing as he faded back in over the bar.
Rabbit buried his face in his paw and shook his head. “Oh no, don’t tell me…like the ‘drink me’ note on the bottle?”
Hatter nodded with a huge grin on his face barely able to contain himself from laughing. “Yes! That ol’ trick came into play again… I got him to actually climb up the beanstalk by leaving a strategically placed note that said— wait for it… ‘Climb me’!”
They all burst out laughing at that point.
“So naive are offlanders, in their want for magic,” added Hatter. “Even your precious Alice fell for it, Rabbit. How Jack got an army to climb up there, I have no idea! But it was just icing on the cake to be sure!”
“The giants would not like that all, they are paranoid about their isolation. After that, we were sure that they would have invaded Marchenton!” Cheshire Cat explained.
“Ah,” said Hatter. “We thought that when they had beaten each other up enough we would convince Alice to invade and restore peace and order. And then, when she’s out of Wonderland, we find a new queen.”
“And we can trap the army loyal to her in that place as well in one fell swoop,” Cheshire said with an eager growl.
“Except there is still the matter of the Fae-Wonderland treaty,” Rabbit said. “We would be violating that by invading. For your plan to work, we need to appear as the victims, to justify breaking the treaty on our part. For example, if Marchenton were to break the treaty then we can justify an occupation.”
“Personally I say, just wipe out the rest of the Fae and be done with the treaty all together. No Fae, no treaty, no problem. Easy,” Cheshire licked his ethereal paws. “Fairies enforcing laws on us is a preposterous notion.”
“Sounds like someone is still bitter about their incorporeal handicap at the hands of the Fae,” Hatter teased, to which the Cheshire Cat replied with a vicious hiss.
“Still a problem, Chesh,” said Rabbit. “The trick is getting Alice off sovereign ground.”
“We’ve transitioned through two monarchies perfectly fine. I don’t see why we can’t just kill her now and move on to the next one,” Cheshire argued as his ghostly tail flicked back and forth in annoyance.
“Those Monarchies all had native bloodlines to Wonderland,” explained Rabbit. “The problem arises when those lines have been ended. When that happens, it is decreed an offlander must then take the throne.”
“What happens if we just kill her then? We get a slap on the wrist from the Lion and the Unicorn,” Cheshire sneered. “Who put them in charge of determining who rules, anyway?”
“This is why we need you, Rabbit. You are much more knowledgeable in the details,” Hatter added with a charming smile.
“The Lion and the Unicorn had nothing to do with it that time,” Rabbit went on. “Besides, they only determine ascension to the throne with regard to native contests, which no longer applies since all native ties to the t
hrone were eliminated. As long as Alice remains a queen in Wonderland she cannot be killed. Wonderland itself chose her, and Wonderland itself protects her, which is why she can only be killed if she leaves. I merely put her along the right path to be chosen. Otherwise, the only other way is if she vacates the throne of her own accord.”
“I wouldn’t consider that last one a realistic option,” said Hatter.
“If there is a way to do this without killing her,” Rabbit started to say.
“That’s your heart talking, Rabbit,” Hatter shot back. “She’s been removed twice from Wonderland, and twice she’s returned. I suspect you’ve something to with that,” Hatter leveled an accusing finger at the White Rabbit. “Third time will be the charm. She needs to be eliminated, for good. She’s seen too much, knows too much from living here all these years. It’s the only way, Rabbit.”
Rabbit was taken aback at Hatter’s harsh tone. He took a moment, mulling over everything that Hatter had explained. Kill the Queen of Wonderland? The White Rabbit thought to himself.
“And this time around,” Hatter added as he took a drink from his glass, wiping his mouth dry on the sleeve of his dark checkered coat, “No more little girls for you to fall in love with. Someone older and with experience this time, someone interested in ruling. Not some child who fancies tea parties.”
Rabbit was quiet for a bit. He reached over and plucked a nearby glass from behind the bar and poured a drink from the Hatter’s bottle.
“Very well then,” Rabbit said then downed his drink in one shot. “As long as I maintain my position as a liaison to the throne when this is done, we’ll do it your way this time,” said the White Rabbit. “No children.”
“Agreed,” replied the Hatter, a slight nod towards the Cheshire Cat going unnoticed by Rabbit.
“It was quite the mad plan, Hatter,” Rabbit said in an almost complimentary fashion as he pondered the story he was told. “Were you able to pull it off? Did the giants invade?”
“No,” said Hatter. “The giants didn’t take the bait. Turns out they are far more given to maintain their isolationism. But surprisingly, Marchenton invaded,” he added. “And they are now weak because of it. With you on board, Rabbit, you can help convince Alice to invade; you have her favor.”