“Because.” Not a very good answer, she knew. “No one can possibly understa-” “We have to hurry,” Dodge said.
Someone was coming; fresh ripples had appeared on the surface of the pool.
Dodge and Bibwit quickly lifted Alyss to her feet and onto a spirit-dane-a little too quickly perhaps, because she almost fell off, half-tumbled over the animal’s flank. She regained her balance and settled on its back, facing in the wrong direction.
Dodge and Bibwit exchanged a look: This is supposed to be our warrior queen?
“You want to face the other way,” Dodge said.
The ripples in the pool were larger now, foaming. Dodge and Bibwit helped Alyss turn around properly on the spirit-dane. Dodge hopped up in front of her and took the reins while Bibwit climbed onto the other animal, and just as the sound of breaking water echoed off the cliff, they galloped into the woods. Alyss glanced back to see The Cat and his assassin force chasing after them. Perhaps she could still
return to London and marry Leopold, to be the loving daughter of Dean and Mrs. Liddell and lose herself in that orderly and controlled life she had worked so hard to establish. Here, things were obviously in a
bit of a tumult. But who was she trying to convince? It was pure fantasy, the idea that she could return to relatively innocent days in England. The Pool of Tears, Redd, and The Cat: She would be hunted down no matter where she was.
The whispers of the surrounding trees and shrubs became fainter, the sound of cracking branches and paw-crushed leaves closer, louder, even over the heavy footfalls of the spirit-danes. They would not be able to outrun The Cat. Alyss was sure of it and gripped Dodge tighter around the waist.
“They’re faster than we are,” she said.
“Good! Then we’ll have to fight!” Dodge spun the animal around and hardly had time to raise his sword before he was locked in combat with two of the card assassins.
Alyss lost her balance and fell to the ground. “Alyss!” cried Bibwit.
But The Cat was upon her. “How you’ve grown,” he hissed. “The last time I saw you, you were only this high.” He held a paw level with his waist and grinned, baring his fangs.
She tried to run, but he batted her back in front of him. His tail puffed up and he spat. Again, she tried to run and again he swatted her back, toying with her as a kitten toys with a cockroach before killing it. She knew what she should do-imagine something, conjure a defense, but it had been so long since she’d been able to use her imaginative muscle that…Try anyway. Have to…She did try, shaking and frowning with the effort. But it was no use. Nothing happened.
The Cat raised his paw to strike. Alyss took in what she supposed would be the last things she ever saw: Dodge jabbing his sword into a card assassin, which folded to the ground, dead; the remaining assassins attacking him with increased fury; Bibwit hurrying toward her, saying, “I’m a scholar, not a warrior. In a battle of wits perhaps I could…” as he thrust himself between her and The Cat.
“Redd will not like such behavior from her secretary,” The Cat hissed, claws glinting.
Bibwit squeezed his eyes shut. “A nano orb at rest tends to stay at rest and a nano orb in motion tends to stay in motion so long as neither is acted upon by an external force,” he whispered, as if he might indeed combat The Cat’s physical strength with the superior strength of his mind. He went on to recite a host of learned titbits that he was amazed he had time to utter considering the usual efficiency and speed of The Cat when piercing some poor soul to the quick.
Alyss was just as amazed as Bibwit, though for different reasons. Her eyes were wide open and, just as The Cat was bringing his paw down on the tutor, five white pawns dropped from the trees, two of them taking the blow meant for Bibwit. A battery of white chessmen jumped from the brush, and a camouflaged pack of Redd’s Cut dealt themselves out with the sound of rapidly opening and closing scissor blades. The Skirmish of the Whispering Woods was in full blood.
Alyss tugged at Bibwit’s sleeve.
“Oh,” he said, opening his eyes to the scene.
“Leave here!” a rook shouted at them. “We’ll keep them at bay! But go! Now!” Though engaged in a deadly contest with a Three Card, the rook managed a bow to Alyss. “Princess,” he said.
Dodge came galloping up on a spirit-dane, lifted Alyss into the saddle behind him. Bibwit clambered up after her, and the three of them sped off as the clashings of steel on steel, the guttural grunts and hoarse cries of combat faded into the distance. Alyss turned for a last look at the raging Cat, at the brave chessmen who had put themselves in mortal danger for her sake.
“Most of them won’t make it,” Dodge said, urging their spirit-dane toward Wondertropolis, where they would skirt major thoroughfares on their way to The Everlasting Forest. “But you’re safe. For now.”
CHAPTER 32
“T HEY SHOULD have returned by now.”
“I warned you,” said Jack of Diamonds, nonchalantly popping dried dormice feet into his mouth. “Hope for the best, but expect the worst.”
“They should have returned,” General Doppelganger said again, pacing back and forth in the tent, an activity that apparently fell short of soothing his anxiety, for he split into the twin figures of Generals Doppel and Ganger and they paced; but this did not ease their minds either, and the generals melded back into one.
“It will come as no surprise to me if Dodge fails,” said Jack of Diamonds. “We should be planning for a future we still have the power to shape.”
He glanced uneasily at Hatter Madigan, who’d been sitting silent and still in a corner of the tent, a
pocket-sized holographic crystal in his hand, ever since General Doppelganger told him of the Millinery’s bloody demise. Every so often, Hatter pressed his thumb against the back of the crystal and its image came to life, a female Wonderlander laughing and saying something in a teasing tone. Hatter made Jack uncomfortable. What was going on in that hatted head of his? What if he had gone slowly insane from his thirteen years of exile with its mysterious traumas and challenges? An insane fellow with such deadly skills…To lessen his fears, Jack tried to engage the Milliner in a little chitchat.
“Tell me, Hatter. On your travels, did you have much time to explore what the fruit pies were like?” Ever so slowly, Hatter turned to face Jack and blinked several times, as if adjusting his eyes to the sight
of the wigged gentleman.
Jack laughed uneasily. “Just trying to break the monotony of all this waiting.” He held a handful of dormice feet out to Hatter. “Dormouse foot?”
Hatter looked away, said nothing. A cheer sounded from outside. Hatter stood, pocketed his holographic crystal, and walked quickly out of the tent. General Doppelganger and Jack of Diamonds hurried after him, and if ever there was a welcome sight to a mourning Milliner, this must have been it: Princess Alyss, safe and apparently healthy, surrounded by happy Alyssians, gwynooks, and tuttle-birds, the forest trees adding their voices to the chorus celebrating her return. A welcome sight, to be sure, yet Hatter showed little emotion-a slight upward flicker at the corners of his mouth. Dodge caught his eye and the two nodded to each other in mutual respect.