“It looks like things are going to work,” Mr. Tick remarked, staring at Alice lying on the bed.
“The future always finds a way,” Mrs. Tock added, secretly biting on one of his brownies behind his back.
“What are you two talking about?” Fabiola scowled.
“The Queen of Hearts corrected Alice’s path, and now she is going to kill everyone on the bus,” Mr. Tick said.
“Corrected the path? How?” Fabiola’s mind was frying with all the paradoxes of time travel, which she wasn’t interested in, not the slightest. All she cared about was Alice’s death.
“It’s a long and complicated story,” Mr. Tick said. “All you need to know is that she met Jack and now they’re going to get on the bus.”
“And soon she’ll kill them all,” Mrs. Tock said around a mouthful.
“Are you eating my brownies?” Mr. Tick inquired.
“Ate your brownies, you mean.” She giggled. “As for you, Fabiola, be very afraid. Once Alice kills her classmates, everything will go the way Black Chess planned it.”
“How?” Fabiola said. “You still haven’t got your keys.”
“I’m sure the keys will show up along the way, now that she’s returning to the Bad Alice again,” Mrs. Tock said.
“Even so,” Fabiola said. “The keys don’t worry me. We’ll fight over them in this life. As long as Alice doesn’t find her Wonder, I’m not worried.”
“I was just thinking about this, White Queen.” Mr. Tick plunked two sugar cubes into his thirteenth cup of tea. “You may have not understood what her Wonder really is.”
“What do you mean? Didn’t you say her Wonder is the one thing she’ll always be proud of in life?”
“Exactly.” He turned the spoon, making clanging noises. “But that’s the Wonder of a so-called good person.”
“Explain yourself.” Fabiola tensed.
“A good person’s Wonder may simply be his children,” Mrs. Tock said. “Or the one time they saved the life of a dog when it was in dire need.”
“So?”
“So how about a bad person’s Wonder?” Mr. Tick snickered like usual.
Fabiola grimaced. The implications were disastrous.
“Let me put it this way,” Mr. Tick said. “The Bad Alice’s Wonder may be different from the Good Alice’s Wonder.”
“Meaning, her Wonder at this time might be killing someone,” Mrs. Tock explained.
“Like her classmates, for instance.” Mr. Tick clanked his spoon against his china, as if he were calling boxers for the next round of the fight.
“Genius, Mr. Tick,” Mrs. Tock said.
“I know, Mrs. Tock.”
“Are you two saying that Alice’s Wonder may be killing her classmates?” Fabiola said.
“It would be a Wonder in Black Chess’s eyes,” Mrs. Tock said.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.”
“Love it when nuns swear.” Mr. Tick smiled. “It means evil is winning.”
“Me too, Mr. Tick. Would you please clank that spoon again? Sounds like Alice’s time has come.”
Chapter 73
THE PAST: OXFORD STREETS
“What do you mean you don’t want to get on the bus?” Jack pulls me by my hand in the most enthusiastic way. “You’ve always wanted to take that ride. You said your life depended on it.”
“Stop.” I try to wriggle myself out of his embracing arms. “I thought you like Lorina?”
“Your sis?” Jack laughs. “I admit she keeps chasing me. But I only use her when I need her. Like a few minutes ago I was betting on cards with stupid men and lost the game. She was a good escape with your mummy’s car.”
So that was it?
“Look.” He pulls out a handful of pounds. “I won that off the men.”
“What’s it for?”
“For us, Alice. Who else?” He keeps dragging me along the street.
“Us?”
“The trip, Alice. We’re getting on that bus. I know you’re worried about money, but once we’re there, I’ll take care of you.”
“Jack.” I finally stop. “Slow down, please.”
Jack’s face pales a little. “What is it? You changed your mind?”
“Changed my mind about what?”
“About us?”
Jack is only killing me — if I don’t kill him in a few, that is.
“I thought you realized how much I love you,” he says. “How can I explain this to you?”
“I — ”
“I know. I know. I’m a crook. A thief. I don’t even go to school. But I’ll be a good man, Alice. You can’t just let me go.”
It’s right now where I can stop it all. I just need to tell him I don’t love him. I can tell him to freakin’ walk away from me. Damn it. Why am I not saying it? It’s just a few words. I don’t love you. I don’t want to see you again. Why can’t I?
“Look.” Jack pulls me closer. “Only you know me. Only you.”
“And you don’t know anything about me.”
“I know enough. It’s not like you can turn out to be worse than me.”
“I am worse than you, Jack.”
“Nice one.” He flicks his nose against mine. “Now, don’t be silly. The bus is coming.”
And you’re never getting out of it, Jack, if I’m on it.
“It’s our time, Alice,” Jack insists. “We need to have fun together. A life. We need to get on that bus. Hell, I don’t know anyone who wouldn’t want to get on it.”
“I can’t.” The words slip out of me. “I just can’t.”
Jack gets the message this time. He realizes I’m not being bratty. He can read it in my eyes. “You’re not in love with that old douche, are you?”
“Old douche?”
“That professor. What’s his name?”
I stop myself from laughing. And though I can just tell him that I am, I can’t bring myself to break his heart.
“So what’s the problem, Alice?” Jack says.
Thinking of an answer, I suddenly notice we’re near the bus station. It’s a few feet away. That’s it. And there, among the giggling girls waiting for the bus, the Reds stand everywhere, disguised as normal people. The Queen’s limousine waits at the curb. And a woman in a Red fur stands on the opposite side. My instinct tells me Black Chess is all around, to make sure I will get on the bus.
“Alice, look at me. Tell me what’s going on.” Jack holds me tighter. “I’d die for you, Alice. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
I’d die for you, Alice. The words cling to my soul. My darker soul, which is suddenly surfacing.
Why not? I find myself thinking.
I’ve been manipulating this stupid boy for so long. Why not? Let him get on the bus. Let him die with the others.
Hail Black Chess.
Now I’m back. The real me. The one you should fear the most.
I pull Jack toward the bus station, imagining a scary rabbit staring back at me from a mirror. “Welcome back, Alice,” the rabbit says.
Chapter 74
THE PRESENT: DIRECTOR’S OFFICE, RADCLIFFE ASYLUM, OXFORD
Dr. Tom Truckle was enjoying his mock turtle soup when Fabiola crashed into his office. He wasn’t sure who she was yet. He’d only seen her serving beer and cracking jokes in the Inklings a couple of times. He’d always joked she looked like a dark version of the famous Vatican nun. But, of course, she couldn’t be her.
“I need your help.” Fabiola stood by the door, her tattoos barely distracting from her impressively athletic body and good looks.