“Listen to me, people of this world,” the Chessmaster faced the camera again, exercising his hobby of rubbing his moustache. “Like I said, you don’t know who I am, and you probably don’t want to,” he said. “I’m not a Wonderland Monster. That would be an understatement. I’m your last and worst nightmare. Bring me Carroll’s Knight or… trust me, I’ll checkmate the world.”
Chapter 23
Marostica, Italy,
The Pillar stops atop an abandoned green hillside and we get off the mad horse.
“I need this to be mentioned in Guinness world records,” The Pillar says. “Having managed to escape with a horse that only runs in L shapes.”
“That was weird.” I pat the horse. “You’re a weird horse. Beautiful but weird.”
I stare down below at Marostica, which is in a paranoid craze. The Chessmaster’s men are still fighting the Reds, people are scared, but Father Williams is nowhere in sight.
On my phone, I watch the Chessmaster’s speech and realize we’re in so much trouble now.
“Almost everyone is looking for us,” I tell The Pillar. “I think we should call Fabiola. She may help.”
“Trust me, she won’t help,” The Pillar says. “She thinks you’re the Bad Alice and wants to get rid of you.” he raises a hand in the air. “And please, let’s not discuss this now.”
“You’re right, we need to know what this is for.” I pull out Carroll’s Knight, the thing I picked up from inside the coffin. “How can Carroll’s Knight be a chess piece?”
“Not just any piece.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s made from Carroll’s bones.”
Hearing that, I almost drop the piece. I think it’s the fact that it’s wrapped in a transparent cellophane that makes me not do it. “Lewis’s bones?”
“It’s something that I’ve heard he did before he died,” The Pillar explains. “He ordered Fabiola to carve little bits of his bones into chess pieces. No one’s really sure what that was all about.”
“Fabiola?”
“Don’t even think about asking her. I doubt she will tell us.”
“Because she thinks I’m the Bad Alice?”
“No, because Lewis kept a lot of secrets with her before he died.”
“Why her? Why not me? I thought I was the closest to him. He wrote the book about me, not Fabiola.”
“Alice.” The Pillar eyes me. “You weren’t the Good Alice in those days. You lost it, and turned bad. Lewis didn’t really like you anymore.”
I wonder how long I will be reminded of my bad past and feel guilty about it. “Then it’s time for you to tell me what happened?”
“What happened to what?”
“What made me become that Dark Alice?”
The Pillar’s gaze freezes. I can’t interpret it. Part of it seems like he is about to tell me. Part, as if he is not. Mostly I get the feeling he can’t tell me for reasons beyond him.
“You didn’t ask me how I know the chess piece is Carroll’s.” He changes the subject, and somehow I don’t mind.
“How did you?”
“It’s a speculation actually, because I was told that Carroll told Fabiola to scatter the chess pieces all over the world.”
“I don’t see the connection.”
“If the Chessmaster, whoever he is, is looking for Carroll’s Knight, and Father Williams was told to guard it all these years, then this must be it.”
“Are you saying the Chessmaster is looking to find Carroll’s chess pieces? Why?”
“I’m not sure, but one advantage we have is that he doesn’t know where it is. This ballet of death he enjoyed at the chessboard was a trick to expose the keeper of secrets, Father Williams, into confessing the whereabouts of the piece we’re holding.”
“And it worked.” I stare at the chess piece. “The one thing that I find odd is this piece in my hand not being a ‘knight.’”
“You have a point. If it’s called Carroll’s Knight, why is it a White Queen in your hand?”
“I think I know the answer.” I speculate. “And it’s going to drive the Chessmaster mad.”
“I’m listening.”
“I think the Chessmaster is after the Knight but Carroll — or Fabiola — was too devious and scattered all the pieces around the world like you said. Now instead of Carroll’s Knight, we have Carroll’s White Queen.”
“Do you think it may contain a clue to where the other pieces are?”
“Only one way to find out.” I slowly pull out the wrapper and start inspecting the White Queen for another clue.
Chapter 24
Director’s Office, Radcliffe Asylum, Oxford
“I need you to find the serum sooner,” Fabiola told Tom Truckle. “I need to convert the Mushroomers into my army.”
“It’s a long process,” Tom Truckle said, and popped down a couple of pills. “I am doing my best.”
“Your best is not good enough. If Lewis made you create the asylum for the purpose of saving the Mushroomers, then you better be good for the job.”
“You’re not the only who cares about the War, Fabiola,” Tom said. “Don’t act like you know better.”
“I know more than you ever think I know!” She rapped her hand down on his desk.
Tom swallowed a couple of more pills. “What the hell was I thinking, dragging myself into this Wonderland War?”
“You’re a Wonderlander like all of us, so don’t try to escape your responsibilities.”
“I am a mere Mock Turtle. A useless and slow animal. I am soup at best,” he lamented. “I’m so not important, Lewis only mentioned me in a single page in the whole book.”
“I don’t care,” Fabiola said. “Find a serum. Bring those mad Mushroomers back to their senses. Make them fight the war they were destined to fight.”
“Aye, aye, boss,” Tom said. “All this aside, what about that Chessmaster?”
“What about him?”
“Who is he?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“That’s not original, because that’s what he said too.”
Fabiola tapped her fingers on the table, impatiently.
“If you tell me, I will expedite the serum’s invention.” Tom argued.
Fabiola looked like she was going to choke him, but she seemed to need that serum badly. “All right. I will tell you. But I will kill you if you tell anyone else.”
“Only me and my Flamingo friend downstairs will know.”
“Not even him, you understand.”
“I was joking. We all know now he is a spy for the Queen.”
“Which makes me wonder why you haven’t got rid of him yet.”
“I thought he may be useful at some point.”
“Whatever that means. I don’t even want you to tell yourself what I am going to say to you.”
“It’s that secret?” Tom leaned back in his chair. Being closer to Fabiola was making him uncomfortable.
“It’s that scary,” she leaned forward, cornering him in a bad place. “The Chessmaster is…”
Fabiola suddenly stiffened in place. The veins in her neck stiffened too. Then she began shaking, hands on her stomach, and then she vomited on Truckle’s desk.
And before he knew it, the White Queen fell silently to her knees, hardly breathing as if she was about to die.
Chapter 25
Marostica Mountains, Italy
The chess piece is a piece of art. It’s small, but when I focus on it, I totally admire the craftsmanship, though I am still weirded out that I am holding a piece of Carroll’s bones.
“Let me inspect it.” The Pillar pulls out a magnifying glass.
“Where did you get those tools from?” I pass the piece over. “Who walks around with a magnifying glass?”
“You never question that in movies, when the hero suddenly pulls out a gun while she was wearing latex all the time,” The Pillar says. “Why me?”