The road wound through a forest of mainly chestnut trees, making it surprisingly airy underneath. The one disadvantage was that old growth chestnuts are impossible to climb, so there was no chance of getting up to see the sun. She just had to trust Francis. Oddly enough, she found she could. She had felt immediate annoyance upon meeting him, and vice versa. Most of the time the people you need to be scared of are those that come across as cordially friendly. Anyone that nice has got to be hiding something.
Around an hour or two later, she decided that walking was boring as hell. She'd started talking to herself to pass the time. Trying to compose poetry in iambic pentameter was proving a good pastime, because for one it didn't take that much effort and it also made you feel like Shakespeare.
She heard a rustle, and whipped around. A grey squirrel looked back at her. She chuckled, then looked up. There was a shadow to the probably-north-west. Probably a couple of clouds coming in.
While she was stopped, she scrounged a couple of blackberries from the side of the path. True, she wasn't hungry, but she liked the taste.
Around an hour later, the sun began to drop lower in the sky. A couple of fairies came out, and started chattering. She was grateful for the company.
A few more hours passed before she got to the spruce grove. The trees suddenly dropped about ten metres, and became dull green and black.
"Anyone here called Heracles?" she yelled gruffly, feeling embarrassed.
Nothing happened for a couple of seconds. Then, a cat slunk out of the undergrowth. It rubbed up against her legs, and ran forwards, along the path.
With no choice but to go forwards, she followed it grudgingly.
"Cat," said a high-pitched voice by her ear.
"Yeah," she said, answering the fairy on her shoulder, "Probably feral."
"Actually, he's quite tame," said a voice, languidly, "Aren't you?"
A sleepy-eyed young man, wearing a cloak that appeared to shift colour, stepped out of the undergrowth and picked up the cat.
"Do I know you?" he asked, stroking the cat.
"No."
"Oh well. For a moment you looked familiar. I'm Heracles."
Alice frowned. She did that quite often, in fact, and her eyebrows added to the appearance.
"Bloody Francis," she muttered, under her breath, then out loud, "So you're one of the caterpillars?"
"Yes, like my mother before me."
"Ever heard of London?" she asked, critically. The boy didn't look too sharp, cooing over a cat.
"I…think so."
She waited for an elaboration.
"And…?" she prompted.
"In…one of my mother's books. There was a…city."
How helpful. Everyone here seemed to take classes on how to avoid getting to the goddamn point.
"Is there someone called Sadiq around here, then?" she asked irritably. Maybe one of the others would know something.
The young man straightened abruptly, and an expression of distaste slid across his face.
"Why would you want…that one?" he asked disdainfully.
"Because he'd probably be more use that you at this," Alice snapped. This was going nowhere, and it was late. She was getting annoyed.
"Did someone ask for me?"
The jovial voice appeared to belong to the tall man that had just appeared beside her.
"No," replied Heracles shortly.
"Yes, we bloody well did," shot back Alice, turning towards what must be Sadiq, "Do you know anything about London?"
The newcomer looked theatrically upwards, as if finding an answer.
"Oh, I think there's something about it in one of Heracles' mother's books. Sometime around the fall of the hearts. Follow me!"
He practically skipped off the path, following a trail presumably known only to him and Heracles. She followed, and Heracles slunk along behind her, still holding the cat.
There was a clearing in the woods, and a couple of elaborate lean-tos had been built along the edges. In the middle, a few stacks of books stood up to Alice's waist. Even more were piled up around the clearing.
Sadiq pulled out — with difficulty — a thick volume from the bottom of the stack. He flipped about a quarter of the way through.
"Ah, here. Just before the fall of the hearts. Entry written by…" he said, squinting at the date, "Ah, me!"
"What?" asked Alice shortly.
"No, I mean that I wrote I can't remember most of what happened before the new court came in. No one can. Actually, there are only a couple of people who were alive back then. Either way, says that Alice mentioned it when she was talking to herself."
He smiled expectantly.
"Anything on how to get there?" asked Alice, "It's in England, if she mentioned that."
"England. Alice came from England, I think. I don't know where it is, though. Say, why do you want to know? No one visits us anymore."
"Oh," she bluffed, "Just wanted to prove a point. Asked Francis for advice, and ended up here."
"So you did," said a familiar voice from behind her.
She whipped around.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she snapped.
He smirked. "I thought it'd be interesting to see how you reacted, dear. You're far nicer to them, it seems."
"Well, for one they aren't you. Anyway, have you been stalking me the whole time?"
Francis examined his fingernails theatrically.
"I wouldn't call it that. The poetry was actually quite nice, though I'm a little bit confused about you talking to yourself."
"I was talking to the fairies!" she said defensively.
"There aren't any fairies here," answered Francis cautiously.
"There are! I saw them."
"If you say so, dear. Anyway, time to bunk down for the night. Hope you brought enough sheets," he said, winking.
Alice realized what he was implying.
"You little w—"
"All right," interrupted Sadiq, stepping between the two of them, "You two can borrow some of ours, when you've stopped arguing like an old married couple."
Francis looked down his nose at Sadiq.
"We are definitely not married."
"If you say so."
An brown-skinned man had melted out of the trees, and was standing behind Heracles. This must be Gupta, then.
Alice saw Heracles smirking along with Gupta, and glared furiously at the both of them.
"I'm fine," she hissed, "I'm off to bed."
Embarrassed and glowering furiously, she slept on the ground. Spruce woods were normally pretty dry, and they didn't have much debris, so she'd known she'd be fine without sheets. She had been camping before, after all. Just like this, except with more rain.
She couldn't decide whether she'd rather have the rain or Francis. It wasn't that easy of a decision.