You bring your face right up to the pane of glass. “And the despair your ridiculous son felt ever after.” You flick the glass with a finger. “That’ll teach him to laugh at me.”
You turn to a tea tray with a dome-covered plate. You lift it to reveal a tiny cake. EAT ME is written across the top in frosting.
“So close and yet so far,” you chortle as you replace the lid. “Hey, I’m talking to you!” You tap the glass to annoy them. Then you pick it up and shake it. “Earthquake! Ha-ha!”
Hearing a distant noise, you stop abruptly. You cross to a nearby window and yank back the curtain. Up in the sky, Time careens straight toward you on an extraordinary contraption. You jump back just as Time flies through the window and crashes to the floor.
The contraption breaks into a hundred pieces. Time lies flushed, sweating, and gasping at your feet.
“Where the devil have you been?” you demand. “Where is Alice? Where’s my Chronosphere?”
“She’s gone!” Time huffs. “She took it!”
“What? You let her get away?” you shriek.
This day is not going at all the way you thought it would!
Time stands unsteadily. He pulls back his cloak and points to his heart clock, which is ticking ever more slowly and softly. Rust now covers most of the clock face.
“You don’t understand!” Time pleads. “I must find her! Where is she?”
You fling up your hands. “How should I know where she is?”
“She’s your enemy. She—” He stops, remembering something. “Hightopps! She kept talking about Hightopps! She says she knows where they are! She said she was going to rescue them. Do you know what that means?”
You turn away, thinking. Your eyes flick to the ant farm. A plan forms in your mind. A wicked grin spreads across your face.
“I know exactly what it means,” you say. You poke your head out the door and call, “Guards!”
A pair of giant vegetable footmen enter. You tip your head toward Time. “Put him in the dungeon!” you order.
“What? Wait! My dearest, you can’t!” Time protests. “It will not work. It is impossible to stop Time!”
The footmen grab Time and hold him tight.
“Oh, it is possible,” Time murmurs. “Who knew?”
You stand in front of him, your arms crossed. “From now on, I’m in charge! Take him away!”
You watch as the footmen drag the crestfallen man out of the room. It is really too bad. You and tick-tock could have been Underland’s most powerful couple. But he’s just another disappointment.
You go to the window. It will only be a matter of time before Alice and her infernal friends arrive as part of their blasted mission—which, come to think of it, might not be such a bad thing. Hmmm…yes. This might all work out perfectly.
It’s all coming together splendidly. All that’s left is to lure that awful Alice into your trap. And you are positive your bait will be irresistible. Plus it will continue to punish the terrible Hightopps at the same time.
You peer through a keyhole into the corridor. Your plan is working! Alice and the Hatter race past you. They’re falling for your trap!
You burst into the hallway. “Now!” you shout. You dance with glee as gates fall over the windows of your private chambers. You step into the doorway, backed up by your imposing vegetable footmen.
“Hello, Alice!” you say. Oh, you just love it when you make those horrified expressions appear on the faces of your enemies. And those expressions are now on the faces of Alice and the Hatter. You snap your fingers and two footmen step forward and seize Alice.
“Thank you ever so much!” you tell her sweetly. You yank the Chronosphere roughly from her pocket. You hold it up so it catches the light. “You have delivered to me the most powerful device in the entire Universe.”
You cock your head, listening. Yes, those are the footsteps you’ve been waiting for. You smile. “Along with the person whom I hold truly responsible.”
You turn to see a delicious sight: footmen escort your sister, Mirana, the White Queen, who stole your crown from you not just once but twice! You frown when you see that she is maintaining her composure. Well, you’ll take care of that soon enough.
You twirl your judge’s gavel, ready to preside over the court you’ve set up in the castle garden. Mirana—the accused—stands in the center. The White Rabbit, McTwisp, stands next to her as her advocate. Her coconspirators are held prisoner by your giant vegetable footmen. That meddlesome Alice and the irritating Hatter are still locked up inside your castle.
You preen in front of your garden throne. Time slumps, bound with chains, on the king’s throne, clutching his heart, which barely ticks at all.
You point your finger at the accused. “Mirana of Marmoreal!” you declare. “You are accused of treason! I hereby sentence you to—”
The White Rabbit jumps up, interrupting you. “Wait! What about the verdict?”
“Sentence first!” you snap. “Then verdict!”
You turn back to Mirana. You will now condemn her to the same punishment you have suffered. “You are banished to the Outlands,” you declare, your voice trembling with emotion. “No one is to show you kindness or ever speak a word to you. You will not have a friend in the world.”
Mirana looks bewildered. “What are the charges against me?”
You can’t believe it! How can she pretend to be so innocent? It is outrageous! “You have lied. You have stolen. You are not the rightful queen of Underland!”
The rabbit, McTwisp, interrupts again. “Objection! Where’s your proof?”
You spin around to face him. “I don’t need proof!” you exclaim triumphantly. “I’ve got better!” You lift the Chronosphere. “I shall have a confession!”
You glare at Mirana. She shrinks back, unsettled. Good. It’s about time some cracks appeared in that oh-so-perfect facade of hers. And once you have that confession from her, everyone will see that their perfect princess is nothing but a lying cheat! And you will be restored to your rightful place.
You throw the Chronosphere to the ground. It pops to full size, glowing, ready for travel.
“Wait!” someone cries. “Stop! Wait!”
“Another interruption?” you snarl. You whirl around. Unbelievable. It’s Alice, causing you trouble once again!
“You cannot change the past, Your Majesty,” she says very seriously. “Believe me, I have tried.”
SHOULD YOU CONTINUE TO INTERROGATE MIRANA? SHE’LL CRACK AND CONFESS EVENTUALLY. GO HERE.
OR SHOULD YOU USE THE CHRONOSPHERE TO GO BACK IN TIME TO PROVE ONCE AND FOR ALL THAT SHE IS GUILTY? GO HERE.
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“FINE, FINE, fine!” you mutter. It’s too much bother to go all the way back in time. Besides, there are some things you don’t want to relive! With you as prosecutor, judge, and jury, you have no doubt of the outcome.
You point your gavel at Mirana. “Where were you on that fateful night?”
“Which night?” Mirana asks.
“Aha! You admit there was more than one night?”
Perplexed, Mirana looks at you. “Why, there are many nights. Just as there are many days. At least three hundred, I believe.”
“You know what night we’re talking about. The fragickigglick night you committed your crimes!”
“Objection!” McTwisp interjects. “That is not a word.”
You whirl around and glare at the insufferable rabbit. “Of course it’s a word. I just said it, didn’t I? What else would I say but a word?”
“Do you mean what you say?” McTwisp asks. “And do you say what you mean?”
“They’re the same thing.”
Go here to continue.
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ce the story. Otherwise, the next section may not make any sense to you.
“Oh, no, they’re not. A very common misunderstanding. But that would be like saying ‘I eat what I like’ and ‘I like what I eat’ mean the same thing.”
“I don’t like it when people are mean,” the little Dormouse murmurs.
Oooh! They’re driving you mad. “Let’s get on with it!” you say. “Back to the night at hand.”
The March Hare stands and points at you. “I don’t see a knight in her hand. But I have one!” He holds up a chess piece.
Now the insufferable Hatter gets up and paces in front of you. He puts on a pair of spectacles and pretends to stick his thumbs in his nonexistent suspenders. “I have a few questions. How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?”
“Hey! Who says I can’t?” a voice calls out.
Unbelievable. “What’s a woodchuck doing in here? Off with its head!” you screech.
The woodchuck hangs its head. “All right, it’s true, I can’t actually chuck wood. Chew it but not chuck it. So sorry. Please proceed.”
“I have another question,” the Hatter says. “If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, how many pickled peppers did Peter Piper pick?”
A young gentleman stands. “I object. Is someone accusing me of unlawful picking of peppers?”
This is too much! “We’re off the topic! We have to get back to—”
This time it’s Alice who interrupts you. “I have a question about…”
You’re so frustrated your head swells and swells until…
Oh, no! Your head bursts!
Well, that’s quite an explosive
END!
IT SEEMS YOU’LL HAVE TO GO BACK TO THE BEGINNING AND START OVER IN ORDER TO HAVE A HEAD AGAIN. PERHAPS THIS TIME YOU SHOULD PICK ONE THAT DOESN’T GROW SO BIG.
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YOU SQUINCH your nose at Alice. She can’t tell you what to do! You grab Mirana and yank her inside the Chronosphere. You will go back in time to the day when everything went wrong—the day your own sister betrayed you by eating all of the tarts and telling your mother it was you. You’ll make them all see the truth!
You fly back, back, back in time. You pass over Horunvendush Day quickly, flying by the fiery scene. You don’t want Mirana to know about your role in the Jabberwocky attack. You’re soon hovering over Toomalie Day, but you keep going. You don’t ever want to relive the humiliation of your tiara breaking in front of all of Witzend.
You grind your teeth and glare at Mirana, remembering your father pronouncing her the heir instead of you. She shrinks away from you. Good. She should be scared.
On and on you go. But as the days play out below you, you become intrigued.
Maybe you should stop and visit a day.
IF YOU WANT TO STOP OFF FOR A VISIT, GO HERE.
IF YOU WANT TO GO STRAIGHT TO YOUR INTENDED DESTINATION, GO HERE.
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YOU CIRCLE around the images from the past until you spot one you think you’d enjoy visiting. You haven’t seen the Duchess in quite a while. At one time you were very good friends.
“Just a quick hello,” you tell Mirana. You lean in and snarl, “Then we’ll get on to the matter of your confession!”
You jump out of the Chronosphere, dragging Mirana behind you. As you approach the Duchess’s house, you hear banging, clashing, and shouting. “She must be cooking,” you say. You just hope she isn’t baking tarts.
You enter and instantly sneeze. “Pepper,” you choke out. “Too much pepper!”
A dishpan whirls by your head.
“Don’t criticize the cook,” the Duchess scolds. She shifts the grunting baby she’s cradling in her arms. Then her forehead furrows. “Iracebeth, didn’t you just leave? We’re to play croquet any moment now.” She steps toward you and looks at you and Mirana. “And why do you both look so old?”
More pots clang and crash, and the baby wriggles so much the Duchess nearly drops him. She holds him out to you. “Here,” she says. “I need to get dressed for our croquet match!” As you struggle with the baby, she flounces out of the overheated kitchen.
“Stay still!” you order the baby. Then you realize what you’re holding in your arms isn’t a baby at all! It’s a pig! You drop it to the ground just as the cook throws more pepper into the pot.
“Ah-choo! Ah-choo! Ah-choo!” You sneeze a hundred times more. Once you’ve regained control, you say, “Give me your handkerchief, Mirana.”
No answer.
“Mirana?” Now that the pepper has cleared, you realize Mirana is no longer in the kitchen!
You race out the door just in time to see her take off in the Chronosphere.
Oh, no! Now you’ll never be able to get back to your own time! Or any other time, for that matter!
Maybe this isn’t so bad, you think as you head back into the kitchen to wait for the Duchess. I can plot my revenge in advance, before any of the bad things actually happen. I’ll show that Alice she can’t get the best of me.
Go here to continue.
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YOU’RE GOING to keep going backward, to a time when you were the injured party!
You bring them to the destination you had in mind all along: the time when Mirana lied about the tart crusts. The day that set all this in motion! The day she ruined your life!
“Here we are,” you say. You are back at Witzend Castle on a snowy night—the night that changed Underland forever.
The Chronosphere alights in a corridor. You see patches of rust spreading throughout the castle, but you don’t have time to yell at anyone about it right now. You yank Mirana out, and the Chronosphere shrinks.
“Where are we?” she asks.
“You know where we are,” you tell her.
You step over the Chronosphere and pull a reluctant Mirana toward a door. You crack it open and reveal your childhood bedroom. Bewildered, Mirana looks at you. Then, recognition of the significance dawns in her eyes. You glare at her with satisfaction.
Your mother is younger, and you and Mirana are mere children. You’re back to the day you and Mirana squabbled
Go here to continue.
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You throw back your head and let out an ear-shattering evil laugh: “Mwah-ha-ha-ha-ack!”
Gack! You get a mouthful of pepper.
“Ah-choo! Ah-choo! Ah-choo!” You inhaled so much pepper that you’re going to sneeze and sneeze and sneeze until the very
END.
AH-CHOO! TO STOP SNEEZING YOU’LL HAVE TO GO BACK TO THE BEGINNING AND START OVER!
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over who was hogging the tarts. You were both ordered out of the kitchen because of your arguing.
But then the last of the tarts disappeared. And you discovered tart crusts in your room under your bed. But you hadn’t eaten the tarts. And you most certainly hadn’t put the crusts under your bed. The only possible explanation was that the goody-goody Mirana stole them. She ate them without sharing even the littlest bite and then shoved the crusts under your bed.
The little stinker! She framed you!
Now your mother is questioning your younger selves
. “Why are these tart crusts under your bed?” she asks the little you.
Your younger self points at little Mirana. “She put them there!”
“Did you, Mirana?” your mother asks.
You turn to your grown-up sister. “Did you, Mirana?” you say to her, imitating your mother’s voice.
“You did!” your younger self insists. “Tell her!”
“Tell the truth, Mirana,” your mother says to the young version of your sister. “Did you eat the tarts and put the crusts there, under Iracebeth’s bed?”
You may be all grown up now, and this scene may have taken place years ago, but you still roil with hurt and outrage at what you know is about to come next.
Grown-up queen Mirana stands silently, watching the scene from your past sadly.
Suddenly, there’s a loud smash! You and Mirana turn to see Alice, the Hatter, and Time crash-land in the corridor. They’re in that bizarre contraption Time flew into your private chambers, where you had barricaded your prisoners. Once again, it breaks apart.
Good. You’re glad they’re here. Now they’ll see the truth. Finally! You force Mirana to face her young self.
“Did you eat the tarts?” your mother asks again.
“No,” little Mirana says in a tiny voice.
A tiny voice, but a great big lie.
“I’m so sorry,” grown-up Mirana says. “If I had just told the truth, none of this would have ever happened. I ate the tarts. And I lied about it.”
You hear a gasp behind you as the others realize what this means. At last! Mirana’s betrayal has been revealed to all the world!
Through the Looking Glass Page 11