Eventually, he reached the end of the bridge and stood before the massive stone gate. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do from here. Truthfully, he’d been expecting guards and maybe even a locked gate, but as no one was immediately available and the gate was wide open, Robert decided to just walk in.
Inside the gate, he stood in an open courtyard that led to the entrance to the Tower, the door to which was also wide open. Firelight flickered inside.
“What you doin ere?” squidged a voice somewhere beneath Robert’s waistline.
Robert looked down to see something brown and nasty staring back at him.
“Who are you?” said Robert.
“I’m the Guard Troll, ain’t I?” said the Guard Troll. “Who arr you then?”
“I’m Robert Darkly. I’m an Agent, well, not a full Agent, I’m in training.”
“‘Course you is,” said the Troll. “What you want then?”
“I’m here to see my father.”
The Troll began to snicker in a guttural sort of way and then stopped abruptly. He squinted his dark little eyes at Robert and scratched a long fingernail across what was probably meant to be his chin.
“You’re the one ee talks about all tha time. Always blabrin bout his boy.”
“So he is here?”
“Oh aye! Couldn’t tell at first, mind you. Bit dark out ere and yur muther no doubt muddied the waters, so t’ speak. But no mistakin the resemble… the relsembla… the sim-lar-it-ies.” The Troll stared at him. “Come wi me then.”
Robert followed the Troll as he slouched his way across the courtyard, through the entrance, and into the Tower. The Troll took a right and headed down a long, wide hallway lined on either side with cell doors. Sinister, dark, and in certain cases, inhuman faces stared out from behind their bars. The ugly creature stopped at the last door on the left and hesitated.
“You sure you allowed t’ be ere?” asked the Troll.
“Of course,” said Robert calmly. “Why would I be here otherwise?”
“S’true,” agreed the Troll, nodding to himself. “U gots a visitor!” shouted the Troll at the cell door and raked a long fingernail across its surface.
Robert heard bolts slide back and the door creaked open.
“Take yerself some light,” said the Troll pointing to one of the candles mounted on the wall.
Robert took down the candle, took a deep breath, and entered the cell.
The door creaked closed behind him and the locks slid back into place.
The cell smelled funny, and as Robert turned, he felt a stab of sympathy for the inmates here.
“Whhoo arree yyouuu?” asked a voice from the dark.
“My name is Robert Darkly. I’m here looking for my father.”
There was a quick intake of breath from the darkness and Robert swung the candle around to illuminate a thin, pale figure sitting perfectly still on a straw bed. His dark hair hung in dribs and drabs around his shoulders and his skin looked stretched across the bones of his face. His eyes were dark and he snapped his head up to look at Robert, who jumped. The man laughed hysterically and slapped his knees.
“Well, well, well. My son, my son.”
“You’re my father?”
The Hatter made a sad face. “Aww, you were expecting something grander, maybe? Sorry, sonny boy, what you see is what you get. Unless, of course, you’re blind.”
“Who… who are you?”
The Hatter sprang to his feet and in two strides had his arms around Robert in a hug.
Robert dropped the candle, instinctively broke the hug, and pushed the Hatter back. I guess I did learn something in training.
“Aww, no hugsy wugsy for daddy? Heartbreaker!” said the Hatter and giggled.
“Who are you?” said Robert again.
The Hatter bowed low. “My name is Marmaduke Ethel Seidfried Hatteracus but you, like all others, will know me better as the Mad Hatter.”
Robert took a step back and retrieved his candle. “You’re the Mad Hatter? My father, the Mad Hatter?” he said. “That actually makes a lot of sense.”
“Not totally sane yourself, are you, my lad?” said the Hatter with a raised eyebrow.
“I wouldn’t say I’m mad. I was hearing a voice for a while, but it turned out I just had a Cat in my head.”
The Hatter stared at him blankly.
“I’m not mad,” said Robert again.
“Well, I am, and here I am, and here you are.” The Hatter sat cross-legged on the stone floor and looked up at Robert through sunken eyes. “I imagine you have questions, so please feel free to ask. It’s the least I can do after missing every single birthday you’ve ever had.”
Robert felt an intense discomfort being here. It wasn’t the cell, it wasn’t the stench, it wasn’t even the thought that he’d probably get in trouble for being here. It was he: his father, sitting cross-legged on the floor like a kindergarten student waiting to be read a story.
“I had four questions. One was to ask who you are, but you’ve already answered that. Why did you send me the message through Rumpelstiltskin?”
The Hatter clapped his hands excitedly. “The answer to that question is the best and most glorious and it should be left until last. Ask me something else.”
“Okay. I’ve been told a couple of times that I’m not human. As you can imagine, this comes as a bit of a shock. I also heard that you’ve lived an incredibly long life. So my question is; what are you?”
The Hatter made a sad face. “That’s not a very interesting question Robert. I was hoping for something more creative.” He sighed. “I am exactly what you see before you. Nothing more and nothing less and I’ll always be this way.”
“But how have you lived so long?”
“Because I can.”
“That’s it? That’s your explanation?”
“If you want more interesting answers, then ask more interesting questions.”
“All right. What happened to my mother?” The question had been bothering Robert ever since he’d been told that his mother had died during childbirth because of what his father had done to her.
The Hatter clapped his hands. “Much more interesting! Bravo, Robert. Bravo! Your mother never really understood me. But she constantly tortured me. She loved me, but then again, she couldn’t stand me. She adored me but terrified me. She was beautiful and hideous all rolled into one. She was the love of my life and my darkest enemy. In the end, she did not want me.” The Hatter looked at his hands lost in a memory. “But I still desired her, so I took her.”
“You… you took her by force?” Robert forced the words out.
“Depends on your point of view,” said the Mad Hatter, and Robert could feel the malice in the tiny cell.
“You’re sick.”
“And then, by hereditary inheritance, so are you. Maybe not now, maybe not tomorrow, could be years and years and years but mark my words, boy, you’ll turn into me eventually.”
“You’re wrong. I’m my own person. I’m training to be an Agent.”
The Hatter spit on the floor. “Agents! That ridiculous Agency and their rules. Look how easily their world would have collapsed if the Dwarf had succeeded with his plan.”
“But he didn’t. I stopped him. I stopped Rumpelstiltskin.”
“And now you’re going to become one of them.” He spat again, this time closer to Robert. “Obviously, you’re no son of mine.”