looking glasses at those destinations out of which they could be reflected. In Queendom Speramus states: “As a body underwater tends to rise to the surface, a body entering a looking glass wants to be reflected out.” It took practice to stay inside the Continuum and master basic navigational skills. An inexperienced traveler might enter a looking glass in his own home, thinking to pay a visit to a friend across town, only
to be reflected out of a looking glass at his next-door neighbor’s house.
The traveler might then enter his next-door neighbor’s looking glass, only to be reflected out at the house next door to his next-door neighbor, and so on and so on until he reached his friend across town. Given time and experience, he would be able to make the trip with fewer stops. Covering long distances in the Crystal Continuum was tough, nearly impossible for all but the most experienced traveler. But short trips were within the skill range of everyone.
The looking glass in the queen’s private rooms, however, was not linked to the rest of the Continuum. It was a focused glass, to be used for emergencies by the royal family and their intimates. It deposited the traveler deep in a forest. The exit glass was well camouflaged by a tight-lipped shrub.
Having entered the Continuum, Alyss glanced back to see the wavering image of her mother growing progressively smaller among the brilliant, crystalline surfaces along which she and Hatter traveled. Her
mother exploded into a thousand fragments, jagged bits of Genevieve fluttering separately-“Mother!”-and then there was nothing but blackness. It seemed like the end of everything. A black void rushed up behind them, as happened when a focused looking glass was destroyed, its path to a specific destination obliterated.
Where was she being taken? Where, where, where?
Closer and closer the void came, gaining on them, and then-
She awoke, still in Hatter’s arms, her cheek bouncing against his shoulder. Portal Sleep was a side effect of looking-glass transport among the young and inexperienced. Alyss and Hatter were no longer in the Continuum; they raced through a pitch-dark wood. Alyss could see nothing ahead of her or behind, and she wouldn’t even have known they were in a wood if she hadn’t heard the whispering voices of the trees all around. It started to rain, to thunder and lightning. The wind picked up. How could Hatter see where he was going?
From overhead she heard the sound of screaming, pain-riddled banshees. “Seekers,” Hatter said, more to himself than to Alyss.
Yes, seekers alerting whoever was following them of their location. Because someone or something was definitely following them. Hatter could hear it speeding toward them through the underbrush, breaking branches and splashing through puddles in its headlong pursuit.
After what felt to Alyss like a lifetime, the Whispering Woods opened onto a wide expanse and they came to a precipice. It took her a second to realize where she was: the cliff overlooking the Pool of Tears, where she and Dodge had stood only a short time earlier. How she wished Dodge were with her now. The water was dark and roiling. All at once she understood.
“No one ever comes back,” she said, looking forlornly into the pool. “But you will,” said Hatter. “You have to.”
Which was when The Cat burst into the clearing and sprang at them, his arms extended. Hatter jumped. The Cat snagged the sleeve of the princess’ birthday dress, tearing it off with his claws, but that was all he got. Alyss Heart, holding tight to Hatter Madigan, plummeted toward the surface of the water below.
CHAPTER 12
“P OINT YOUR feet down!” Hatter shouted, holding himself as straight as he could. He knew that if he and Alyss didn’t hit the water with as little impact as possible, it would be like landing on a sheet of diamond and they’d be killed.
Alyss barely had time to do as he instructed before they shot deep into the pool. She lost her grip on the Millinery man. He reached for her, but she panicked, flailing, and then she was out of reach. Falling deeper underwater, she opened her eyes, saw nothing but foam and a rush of bubbles, and shut them again, not wanting to face the unknown. Just when she thought that she couldn’t hold her breath any longer and would drown in the depths, she stopped and reversed directions, heading up toward the surface with the same force and speed as her descent.
Whoosh!
She was out of the water and in the air, cannonballing out of a dirty puddle in the middle of a street where
a parade was taking place. People dressed in various shades of dull, with strange, anonymous faces, were crowding the pavements and applauding her.
All these jumping and spinning and juggling people. And…are those soldiers? She had been mistaken for a member of a gypsy troupe tumbling and twirling and performing magic tricks alongside a marching regiment.
“Bravo! Bravo!” the crowd applauded.
Five bowler hats, an ivory-tipped cane, a pair of tortoiseshell eyeglasses, a rolled-up newspaper, a potato, and two plates of steak and kidney pie took to the air and circled overhead. The rolled-up newspaper smacked into a boy sitting on his father’s shoulders. One woman ended up with pie in her face. Dazed, Alyss didn’t even realize it was her imagination that had caused the objects to take flight. She was keeping her eye on the dirty puddle, hoping Hatter would appear. Then a gilded open carriage pulled by eight horses decked out in jeweled harnesses splashed through the puddle and she caught a glimpse of a woman-a queen, surely it was a queen!-inside, waving to the crowds.
“Mother?”
It was possible. Genevieve might have arrived in this world before her. If anyone could do it… And maybe being a queen in one world meant you were recognized as such in another? Alyss forgot about the dirty puddle and chased after the carriage, at which point the bowler hats, eyeglasses, cane, potato, and steak and kidney pie dropped to the ground.
“Mother! Mo-ther, wait!”
She weaved her way through the parading soldiers toward the queen’s carriage. The soldiers bumped and elbowed her.
“Get lost, brat.”
“Away with you, dirty urchin.”
She hardly noticed. She was gaining on the carriage. Her mother would see her, order her lifted up onto the equipage’s plush cushion, and they would be reunited. It had been a test, Genevieve would say, Alyss’ first test as future queen and nothing more.
She was within a hundred feet of the carriage when, having reached the end of the parade route, it abruptly turned into a side street and picked up speed, the entrance to the street blocked by a line of soldiers to prevent anyone from following. With as much pride as she could muster, armed with a firm belief in her own entitlement (she was a princess), Alyss approached the soldiers standing guard.