Shards Of The Glass Slipper: Queen Alice

by Roy A. Mauritsen

  It took several long minutes, but soon after, Jack’s feet dug into the coarse rocky bottom and then Jack struggled to pull the boat upon the small rocky outcrop of land.

  “See Lily, we made it!” Jack said trying to catch his breath. He looked at the others in the boat. There was no response; Lily just stared at the floor of the boat with wet eyes and quivering lips. Haigha and the sheep were just as unresponsive. Only low, soft depressing sighs and sounds of weeping answered him.

  Jack felt a sudden need to hurry to get them in the tunnel and away from the mock turtles. But there was still one large turtle left, lying right in front of the cave opening, blocking the entrance.

  Jack looked at the mock turtle, “How am I going to get this guy to move? It’s bigger than a hay wagon.”

  Jack silently hoped he was not something the mock turtle would consider eating, but was more concerned about being accidently crushed.

  The mock turtle had a huge rocky-like turtle shell. Its front legs were not feet like a turtle one might find in a river, but extended out in great paddle-like flippers. However the mock turtle’s hind legs that jutted out from the rear of its shell were hooven and long like a cow. Rather than a knobby turtle tail, it had a long brown, tufted tail that lazily swished back and forth, again very similar to a cow. This gave Jack an idea.

  Jack walked up to the rear of the mock turtle, and standing just to the side of it hind legs he, smacked it hard on its shelled backside. Jack gave a loud yell as he did. “Yah! Move! Go! Get out of here!”

  Slowly, the giant bovine head of the mock turtle swung around to look behind him and gave a disinterested snort.

  “Just like trying to get Milky White to get into the barn before a storm,” Jack sighed.

  There was a trick Jack knew from herding Milky White and other cattle. Living on a farm seemed to give him an advantage at the moment. Jack reached over to the mock turtle’s long cow-like tail and holding it up, he gave a strong twist, curling the tail upwards and to the side. Instantly, the Mock turtle jolted and moved away. Jack quickly let the tail go. The giant mock turtle continued forward and pulled himself into the river, slipping almost gracefully into the water.

  “Just like Milky White used to do,” Jack said with a smile. With the tunnel entrance clear, Jack wasted no time in getting Lily and the others to safety; including having to drag a near catatonic sheep as dead weight into the tunnel and away from the mock turtles’ influence.

  ***

  It was only a short time before the effect of the pheromones subsided. Soon everyone was heading up the small tunnel to the palace.

  “Thank you, Jack,” said Lily, “for saving us back there when we couldn’t have saved ourselves. I’m sorry for the things I said.”

  “Hey this makes us even for the forest. So don’t worry about it,” Jack replied.

  The tunnel was dark, and carved rough from the stone. Weapons drawn, the group made their way. Passing other collapsed passageways, the old sheep explained that those probably had led to the Tower of Hearts. Jack stopped midway to point out a small pipe that poked through a crack at the base of the tunnel wall. A small trickle of water dripped out.

  “That’s the pipe I came out of when I left,” he said. “I was small at the time. It made for an easier escape from the guards.”

  “Do you think there will be any guards now?” Lily whispered cautiously.

  “I doubt it,” said the sheep. “Most of the guards would have been mobilized for the army. And who knows what the little white shit and his cohorts have done to the place. Any loyal duchesses and such that stayed behind were probably murdered.”

  They came up to a short stone stairwell, at the top; a door with a slight crack of light marked the end of the tunnel and the entrance to the palace.

  “I’ll stay here,” the old sheep said. “You don’t want me clicking about hallways in my hooves. She nodded to Lily, “be careful.”

  The trio moved quickly through the empty palace, cautiously, but unopposed. As Jack led them to his old room, everyone expected to turn the next corner and be spotted. But the palace was suspiciously empty. Expertly, Jack led them through several small simple hallways, to a small plain looking door marked “Storage.”

  “This is it?” Lily asked. “My first time inside the royal palace and I get to go to a storage closet?”

  “Sorry, the luxurious grandeur of the palace did not extend down here,” said Jack. “If we play our cards right, you’ll get to see it all though,” Jack reminded Lily.

  “Hurry, Jack,” Haigha said. “Every minute counts and we don't have much time. I’ll keep an eye out,” the hare offered as Jack and Lily pushed open the door and they stepped into the small room where Jack used to stay.

  Haigha stood outside the room watching the hallway for more of the guards. “Hurry, let’s not stay too long here... anything can happen,” the Hare cautioned.

  Lily glanced around the small, stone walled room with a cold, dusty stone floor, partially covered by a thin rug. The room had a sparse array of furniture, a chair and a simple desk. There was a small window to provide light and old candelabra that stood in the corner at night. There was an odd fitted old wooden door that Jack immediately moved to.

  “This won't take long,” Jack replied, opening the door to revel a small space that had served as a closet.

  “You'd think that dating the Queen of Wonderland, you'd at least get better living quarters,” Lily remarked, walking casually over to the nearby desk.

  “Yeah, but it was more than I had growing up,” Jack answered from within the closet as he rummaged around. “Even better than the farm I lived on, in some respects. I spent most of the time with Alice, but in the beginning we kept our relationship secret and I stayed nearby in this room.”

  Lily didn't respond, her attention drawn to the desk, as Jack pulled out a large wooden chest and with a grunt set it upon the bed.

  “Did you love Alice, Jack?” Lily asked rather bluntly.

  Jack turned and looked Lily, who was standing by the desk; a small drawer was opened and she was reading a folded letter on eloquent parchment

  “Excuse me, that's not yours to read,” Jack protested. But Lily ignored him.

  “It’s a letter from her,” said Lily, reading through quickly. Jack paused a moment, but decided to let Lily read his letter anyway.

  “Ever since you entered my world all I can think of is you.” Lily began to read aloud. “I hope that someday you and I can leave this entire life behind, and run away from it all. I cannot think of anyone else I'd rather spend the rest of my days with. Although we haven’t known each other long, I know it feels right. I don't need a crown of gold and jewels, just the man I love with all of my heart; with only you I am richer than any golden crown would have.”

  Lily finished and stood for a moment in sullen thought, masked unsuccessfully with a halfhearted smile.

  “I wish someone could love me like that, someday; someday when I didn't have to take care of my mother, the sheep,” Lily shook her head, and then looked at Jack; a moment's tear welled in the corner of her eye. “Did you love Alice, Jack? Because it looks like she loved you.”

  “That's not from Alice,” he said sadly. “Read the rest... the signature is on the back.”

  Lily flipped the page over.

  “With all of my heart, forever yours… Love, Ella,” she read. “Ella… from your dreams?”

  “From a long time ago,” his response was tinged with distant sadness.

  “I’m sorry,” said Lily. “I shouldn't have done that,” she folded up the note and handed it to him. “But what about Alice? She loved you.”

  “It had been about ten years since I last saw Ella. I wasn’t in Wonderland for the whole time,” Jack explained. “At least five of those years I was trapped in the Giant realm, and when I got to Wonderland I spent a year or so wandering around. I didn’t really hook up with Alice until the last year or two. I know time in Wonderland doesn’t really work l
ike that. But back home in Marchenton, I was gone for ten years” Jack looked at the paper in Lily’s hand. “I know Alice loves me, but it was not the same as I had with Ella. I guess I was just going through the motions, selfishly but to survive so I could figure out what to do next.”

  “Ten years is a long time to figure things out,” Lily said. “That’s not right, Jack. You have to tell Alice the truth,” Lily insisted.

  “I was going to once Alice started on about me becoming a king. I was going to try and use a looking glass to leave. Then the business with the White Rabbit and framing me, well I was going to tell her and then leave. But you know… easier said than done. It might be easier to tell Alice the truth after all of this is over. Or, it might be easier if I just left.”

  “You should tell her, and then at least she'll know. Promise me now, before I take the throne, that you tell her,” Lily insisted again.

  “Okay. I promise,” said Jack with a nervous laugh. “I will tell her.”

  From the hallway, Haigha politely cleared his throat.

  “Right!” Jack turned and opened the chest.

  Lily stepped over. “There’s nothing in it!” She said with a gasp.

  “Actually, not quite true,” Jack reached with both hands and picked up seemingly nothing. He cradled his arms, as if holding something and then placed it on the bed.

  “It’s a bundle of my belongings all wrapped in an invisible cloak,” with his thumb and forefinger, he reached down and as if he was gripping a piece of cloth, pulled it back, suddenly revealing a sheathed sword, old worn boots, a belt, and a grey cap with a brimmed front. With both hands gripping the air, he held the cloak up.

  Lily saw nothing, but Jack standing in front of her, with his two fists aligned in the air.

  “I’m told it was actually material created by the tailor of an emperor from a far off land. It’s reversible. If you wore the material inside out, it only obscures the material. But if you wear the material properly, it conceals anything within it.”

  “And the sword?” asked Lily.

  “Can cut through anything,” replied Jack.

  She gave a smirk of disbelief, but Jack nodded assuredly, “Anything,” he insisted.

  “I suppose those aren’t just a pair of old boots?” She then pointed to a pair of old cracked leather boots in the chest.

  “I can run faster than a giant in them. They came in very useful,” Jack added.

  Lily picked up the thick leather belt, reading an inscription.

  HERE’S THE RIGHT VALIANT CORNISH MAN-

  WHO SLEW THE GIANT CORMORAN.

  She looked at Jack, “What does the belt do?”

  “Oh, uh… that is actually just a belt.” He smiled. “But it's precious to me. I didn't grow up with a lot,” Jack pulled it quickly from Lily and wrapped it around his waist, adjusting it slightly after he buckled it. “King Marchen awarded it to me after I showed him the fallen giant. It’s one of the few things I’ve been proud of.”

  Lastly, Jack put on an old woolen cap, and then suddenly he realized something.

  “The Tower of Hearts, that’s where they are hiding the Caterpillar! That’s where they will crown the new Red Queen! We have to get back there and stop it.”

  CHAPTER 45

  THE CATERPILLAR

  Wonderland, Present Day.

  Cheshire and the Maldame stepped out on to the stone balcony, one of several hundred that spiraled up the circular interior of a vast old theater within the Dark of Hearts tower. It was a huge balcony with several seats; meant to accommodate any manner of duchess or duke, king or dignitary and their entourage. The immense theater made up the central area of the Tower of Hearts, and was designed to acoustically enhance and amplify sound, for the only reason that the Queen of Hearts loved to yell and wanted to make sure that everyone heard it. Each balcony opening was framed with a heart, shaped in black obsidian stone. Red curtains now dull with time and tattered by decay hung still or lay draped over the balcony walls shape. Derelict and abandoned to ruin, the tower theater was still impressively immense with a ceiling a hundred stories in height. A towering circular coliseum with long collapsed pockets of ceiling had fallen way and shafts of afternoon sunlight stretched through like fingers, trying to reach into the dark theater. Silken wisps covered everything, like giant old cobwebs. The smell was that of old smoke and pungent earthen stone; decay distant and old settled about the air.

  “This was a grand place once,” she whispered, marveling.

  They were midway above the floor of the theater; the Maldame peered down, her eyes drawn to a gigantic hole broken through the stone wall. In the dimness, something huge shuffled below.

  The Cheshire Cat floated next to her. “Yes it was, a long time ago,” he was looking off as he recalled the grander days. “This was the Queen of Hearts audience hall. These balconies were full with crowds, such galas and spectacle in those days; such grandeur. In a way, I do long for those good old days when Wonderland was more chaotic, more alive.”

  The sudden arrival of the Hatter drawing back the curtain of the balcony startled the Maldame who was fully drawn into view around her.

  “He’s coming,” Hatter said.

  “Who is?” The Maldame asked.

  “The Caterpillar,” the Hatter replied hurriedly. “Now when he asks, and he will ask, the point is to tell him who you are, not who you were. Once it is acknowledged, only then he will impart upon you Wonderland's magic.”

  “A mere formality of the induction,” assured the Cheshire Cat as he stretched lazily in the air.

  The Maldame nodded, reassuring herself somewhat nervously. The power and the magic she had always desired was about to become hers. But here in Wonderland, even the Maldame was apprehensive of what that would be like.

  “We are rushing things a bit, are we not Hatter? There is still the matter of Alice,” purred the Cheshire Cat.

  “As long as Alice remains off land, and we destroy the temple gate outside, she is as good as dead as far as He would be concerned. Wonderland would have to take a new ruler to avoid what happened after the death of the Queen of Hearts and the falling of the House of Cards,” Hatter replied as he straightened his hat. “This has to be done before a coronation anyway.”

  “A technicality, I suppose,” Cheshire agreed though still unconvinced.

  “It’s time,” said Hatter in a hushed tone, almost starling himself as he realized it.

  “What do you know of it? It's always 6 o'clock for you,” teased Cheshire.

  “Temporal scarring is nothing to make light of,” Hatter replied as he turned and closed the red curtains across the balcony’s exit. “That hurts me, Cheshire. Do I make fun of your corporeal handicap?”

  Suddenly the whole building rattled, enough so that the Maldame had to reach out to grab the balcony railing to steady herself. With a great rush of air as it climbed up, a massive Caterpillar burst into view, rising in front of them, blocking out the rest of the theater with its gigantic body. The Maldame gasped fearfully. Two long rows of small gripping claws ran parallel along the side of the upper part of the huge segmented body. The claws were clutched tight, contorted and shaking, riddled with palsy and arthritic pain. Its great body, once vibrant with green colors, was now flat and dull. The Caterpillar was covered with dry, cracked calluses and flakes of dead skin that peeled away, giving the creature a dusty appearance. It reared its great body backward and brought its huge head down to their balcony level, its body creaking like old leather as it did. Frightened, the Maldame took a step backward, pressing closer against the Hatter's thin frame. All of the Caterpillar’s twelve eyes, six on each side of its large round head, long since calcified in milky white cataracts, moved about as if they could still see the room. More silken strands and wisps hung messily about its heavy maw, giving the Caterpillar a somewhat wizened appearance and clung to the coarse stipple of hair that covered its body.

  “Hatter!” it yelled in a deep and cracking voice, booming and e
choing in the ruined chamber.

  “I’m right here, old friend, no need to yell,” replied Hatter in a calming tone, unfazed by the Caterpillar as he stepped towards the very edge of the large balcony. The Caterpillar reacted swiftly moving his head down closer to where Hatter stood.

  The Caterpillar mumbled to itself. “I’m tired, Hatter, so tired. Please, I just wish to sleep.”

  “Soon enough, you can sleep…” assured Hatter.

  “Where is my hookah? Hatter, please, please I beg of you,” the Caterpillar pleaded desperately, looking around as if the blind could see. “Why deny an old man his only pleasure?” the Caterpillar moaned sadly. “Such pain,” it cried out. “So tired—such pain, Hatter, please,” it implored quietly again. “Please, my hookah.”

  “Soon enough, old friend; the time has almost come and then I promise you can sleep,” said Hatter in a soothing fashion. “But we have one favor to ask of you.”

  “No more favors until you give me my hookah back,” said the Caterpillar shaking its head, flakes of skin and strands of silk falling off.

  The Cheshire Cat floated near the Maldame and quietly explained the situation.

  “We knew the Caterpillar would soon be changing into a butterfly, though not sure when exactly. The Caterpillar represents some of the strongest magic in Wonderland. Our concern is that when the change happens, we will no longer have that level of magic for the land anymore. Nor are we sure of what a butterfly would bring. So we've been holding back his transformation until we could at least get someone more in line with our sensibilities on the throne. That way when the change does happen we will be in a more fortunate position.”

  “That’s what he means by being tired? And all of the silk everywhere?” The Maldame whispered back. “He’s going to turn into a butterfly soon.”

  “Very observant; the Caterpillar is a bit of an addict, I'm afraid. But the curious thing is that smoke he exhales from the hookah, and has done so for as long as even I can remember, fuels the magic in Wonderland. There's is nothing special about the hookah, either; it's the Caterpillar. Hatter has spent a lot of time trying to find a recipe that will postpone the transformation process. As it turns out, there are certain inhibitors in a particular brand of tea leaf that do the trick.”