“No!”
She smashed the glass, and her entire surroundings-the circular room, the nonsensical Bibwit-showered down around her in fragments, leaving her standing before the entrance glass in the maze; on the other side of the glass, the clash between Alyssians and Redd’s soldiers was stopped in
time.
“Why am I here? What does this mean?” “Ahem hum.”
A stream of smoke crossed her vision. She turned and saw the blue caterpillar puffing at his hookah. “It means you failed, Princess.”
“I-?” Can’t fail. The maze is intended for me. “But-”
“You were unable to navigate the maze. It is unfortunate for all of us, but nothing can be done. You must leave through the glass and re-enter the battle.”
Failure’s not an option. She would rather have been anywhere else, but she couldn’t leave yet. Not as a failure. “Unacceptable,” she said. “I don’t accept it.”
And before Blue could blow smoke into her face, she ran deep into the maze. She was quickly lost, but all was not lost so long as she remained here. She could still succeed. She would succeed, other wise what would become of-
A figure strode into the corridor up ahead. “Hatter!”
Oh, she was glad to see him. But the Milliner said nothing, raised a sword and rushed at her. “Wait! What are you-?”
She had to do something quick. She imagined a sword in her hand and, almost before she realized it, she and Hatter were fighting-he the aggressor, she surprising herself with a defense that relied on mirroring his moves.
Hatter at last lowered his weapon and stepped away, approving. “Good.”
So he was assessing her, Alyss understood, developing her warrior skills-or rather, he was training her imagination in the service of her warrior skills. Still, when a second Hatter Madigan appeared…
I have to fight two of them?
In addition to the sword, Alyss armed herself with a Hand of Tyman. She parried with the two Hatters. Clangk! Shwink-ding-shlank! Whenever one of them made a move she had never seen before, she quickly appropriated it-imagined it as part of her own repertoire. But merely conjuring herself into a better swords woman wasn’t going to be enough; she had to employ her imagination in other ways, because a third and fourth Hatter appeared, then a fifth and a sixth. Clashing weapons with one Hatter, she imagined that the others felt it. But this proved insufficient as more Hatters stepped forward, so she conjured her numberless reflections to her aid. They jumped from their looking glasses, swords in hand, and for every Hatter Madigan there was now an Alyss Heart to battle him.
“Excellent,” one of the Hatters said, and at his signal the Milliners gave up their swords and activated their wrist-blades, employed their boomeranging top hats.
Alyss imagined razor-cards shooting from the sleeves of her uniform, but the Hatters batted them down easily enough. Never had she wielded her imaginative powers so precisely, so intensely, or for so long a
time.
Getting tired, not sure how much longer I can…
Sensing her own defeat, she shot wads of a thick, gummy substance from the sleeves of her uniform. The wads hit the Hatters’ weapons and stopped up their rotary workings and, in the same instant, Alyss took a deep breath and exhaled, causing such a wind that the Hatters were blown off their feet, lay sprawled on the floor throughout the combat arena.
The fighting was over. Alyss was alone among the defeated Hatters, her reflections back in their looking glasses.
“Control and power aren’t everything,” one of the Hatters said. “Allow yourself to be the agent by which a cause greater than any single individual triumphs. Then perhaps you’ll be worthy of the Heart Crystal.”
The Hatters picked themselves up, bowed, and backed away down the maze’s various corridors. After a short rest, Alyss felt infused with power and health, better than she had before running into the Hatters.
Better than I have felt in a long, long time-maybe ever.
It was a lot like she used to feel before her seventh birthday, when she thought herself capable of anything and the world was a beautiful place.
What was that?
A creaking sound, like something being hoisted. And voices. Off to the left? Yes, there they are again.
She followed the sounds and, coming to the end of a shallow passage, found Dodge, Bibwit, Hatter, General Doppelganger, the white knight, and the rook kneeling with their hands fastened behind them, their heads locked in an enormous guillotine. Queen Redd and The Cat were standing by the lever that would drop the blade, waiting for her.
“But I killed you,” Alyss said.
“Did you?” Redd turned to The Cat. “Why wasn’t I informed?” The Cat shrugged.
Is this real or a figment? Can’t be real since she’s not dead, so there’s no danger to anyone if I walk away. Just walk away.
But Alyss couldn’t; the sight of the captured Alyssians kept her rooted to the spot. She couldn’t chance it, however much reality the scene might contain. Redd’s (apparent) multiple lives notwithstanding, who could be sure that if one died in the maze, he or she would still be alive on the outside?
“I’ll kill you again if I have to,” Alyss said, stepping forward. “Perhaps,” said Redd, “but that won’t save your friends.”
Alyss again imagined wads of the sticky substance shooting from her sleeves, gumming up the guillotine’s works and keeping its blade from falling.
Nothing.
She imagined the blade turned into water and splashing down on the Alyssians’ heads. Nothing.
Redd laughed. “The lovely thing about being here,” she said, gesturing at the maze, “is that I’m able to imagine your imagination powerless. Ah, if only that were the case on the outside. But enough chitchat. If you’re going to die-which you are-I’m sure you’d like to get it over with. These people are no threat to me without you. There is only one way you can save them: Give yourself up. You might as well. I’ll eventually kill you anyway. Then you and your friends will be dead. However, to save myself some trouble, I’m giving you a choice.”
But how could Alyss be sure that, if she sacrificed herself, Redd would allow her friends to live, let alone live freely? Wasn’t it more likely that once Alyss was dead, Redd would kill the Alyssians because she could? But what if, because of some unknown leniency in Redd, she did allow them to live? They had fought on behalf of White Imagination for thirteen years without Alyss. If, by sacrificing herself, she could secure for them the promise of longer lives, didn’t duty demand her sacrifice? They might yet manage to escape; Hatter might find a way. The spirit of White Imagination would live with them. It lived only so long as they did.
Thinking it the final act in her short, troubled life, Princess Alyss Heart knelt down before her aunt. “Here’s to my legacy,” Redd said, lifting her scepter. But the moment its cold blade touched the tender
back of Alyss’ neck-
Zzzomp!
– the scene vanished and the princess stood directly in front of the white heart scepter. She reached for it and, as her fingers closed around the scepter’s shaft, she was transported by the magic of the maze back into the puzzle shop, amid the chaos of battle once again raging between the Alyssians and Redd’s soldiers.
CHAPTER 49
T HE KEY to the Looking Glass Maze pulsed with radiance. Alyss was surprised to see it in her palm, but an Intended never left the maze with less than when she entered-although hopefully, as in Alyss’ case, she left with much more.