Chapter Nine - The Wild Old
Alice clung to the back of the saddle as the sand-coloured stallion trotted, bouncing her uneasily. In front of her, Rory groaned and shook his head. "Does he always sing like that?" he whispered over his shoulder.
"Hey, nonny-nonny. Hey, nonny-nonny."
"Pretty much," Alice agreed with a laugh. Ahead of them, Charlie was leading the way, oblivious to the conversation going on behind him. "Not sure why. He's just always done that as long as I've known him."
"I hope we don't have far to go then," Rory said and then clicked his tongue, urging the horse on faster to keep up with Charlie. "So, you really think he can find Hatter?"
"He can find anyone," Alice said certainly. "I don't know how he does it, but he always seems to be able to find people."
"What was that you said before, about finding you in your head?" Rory asked, twisting slightly to glance back at her.
"He did," she answered with a grin. "The Doctors, Dee and Dum, had trapped me inside my head, and somehow he managed to find his way in. He and Hatter broke me out. I don't know how they did it, and Hatter could never explain how they'd gotten in there in the first place, but they did."
"Fascinating." Rory trailed off, still shaking his head, and then focused on steering the horse onto a clearer path.
"Heey, nonny-nonny. Heey, nonny-nonny."
Rory snorted in exasperation. "Isn't your singing going to draw the Jabberwocks to us?"
"Preposterous!" Charlie shouted back, even though they were only a few feet behind him. "What do you take me for? An imbecile?"
"I just don't want to get eaten, that's all," Rory grumbled.
"Just leave him at it," Alice said. "He's been living in this forest forever and he hasn't been eaten yet. I figure he knows what he's doing."
"I guess so," Rory said. "Maybe it's that singing what's driving the monsters away."
"Oi!" Charlie said, wheeling the reddish-brown horse around to glare at the younger man. "I'm not deaf!"
Rory chuckled. "Bet the Jabbers are now."
"Boys!" Alice cut in as Charlie swelled indignantly. "Could we focus?"
"My apologies, Alice-of-Legend," Charlie said and steered his horse back on course with a murmured, "On we go, Gawain."
"Sorry," Rory said as they started moving again. "This place puts me on edge. I've been here before once or twice, but something feels different. It's getting stronger the further into the forest we go."
"I know what you mean," Alice said. "It's like this prickling in my skin, like the way the air is right before a lightning storm."
"I think he's right," Rory said solemnly. "I think it's the magic coming back."
"And what happens then?"
Rory's breathless laugh was equal parts excited and nervous. "Not a clue."
It was a long and uneventful day, riding as quickly as the treacherous ground would allow and talking very little. The whole thing was making Alice irritable and she wanted nothing more than for the trip to be over. Sometime late in the day the trees ahead began to thin and a few miles further the forest ended at the edge of an enormous, rolling plain. The ground swept up in rounded hills and was covered in thick grasses that came up to nearly Alice's hips.
"The border of Wonderland," Charlie said. "It stops here at the end of the forest."
Rory glanced at the sun, which was hovering close to the horizon. "We should stop here for the night," he said. "It's not a good idea to go blundering into that this close to nightfall. Never know what's hiding in there."
"We're outside of Wonderland? What's all that then?" Alice asked in surprise as Rory helped her dismount. "Are there more worlds here?"
"The Wild Old," Charlie said, his eyes panning the fields of green and blue grass. "In the times of old, the realm of Wonderland stretched on to every horizon and further. When the Queen of Hearts took control there was only so much land she could control. Everything outside of her reach fell into ruin."
"They say it's all gone wild," Rory chipped in. "No people out there as far as I've heard. Everyone fled into the city because it was the only place to survive. There's nothing out there but wilderness and monsters."
"But there must be someone out there," Alice said. "Whoever it is that took Hatter is out there somewhere. Didn't people escape out there, to get away from the Queen?"
Rory grimaced. "The Rebellion sent scouts out there, but none of them ever came back," he said grimly. "After a while, they just gave up. Either the monsters get to them, or there are people out there who don't want visitors."
"So basically, you're saying that either way, we're in trouble," Alice concluded. Both men looked away from her, busying themselves with unsaddling the horses, but their silence was answer enough. "You don't have to come with me, you know," she said. "Especially you, Rory. You only told Jack that you'd bring me to Charlie. You can go home."
"I wouldn't dream of it, milady," the Suit said with a grin. In the background, the look Charlie shot her said almost exactly the same thing, only with more pomp and circumstance. Rory chuckled before he continued. "Miss out on a chance to travel with Alice-of-Legend? Not on my life. 'Sides, I owe the Hatter. Saved my skin once. I figure I can pay him back by helping you now."
"He saved you?" Alice asked in surprise. "You never said you even knew him."
"It was a really long time ago," he said with a shrug. He tied the horse's reins to a tree root protruding from the ground and then settled down on a large rock. "I was just a kid then, only about twelve I think. The Suits had caught me trying to deliver a message for the Rebellion and they were close on my tail. They'd already gotten a good shot at my leg and I could barely walk by the time I reached the docks, let alone swim for safety. The Hatter was there, unloading a Tea shipment I think he was. He found me and hid me at his shop until they'd gone, and then he got me back to the Library the next day. I would've been caught and killed if it hadn't been for him."
Alice shook her head, her brain struggling to make sense of the inconsistencies. "How long did Hatter own that shop?" she said in awe. "Did he start it when he was a kid? He can't be much older than you."
"Quite a bit, actually," said Rory. "You must know as well as the rest of us that time doesn't work the same here as it does in your world. Doesn't even work the same for all of us here. Some people live normally enough, and then some live for generations, like the Hearts. I mean look at Sir Charles, he must be at least a thousand years old."
"Two hundred and twenty-nine, I thank you very much," Charlie corrected, stoking the little campfire he was attempting to get burning.
"Close enough," Rory said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "No one can really explain why, it's just always been that way. It's like time is just broken in places."
An eerie memory floated to the surface of Alice's mind that made her blood run cold. "The clockwork's not ticking properly."
"Aye, exactly," the Suit agreed, not noticing her discontent. "It works in some ways and not in others. Like there are a few cogs missing or something. Dodo was doing this extensive study about it back at the Library. He tried to explain it to me once, something to do with the old family lines, and why..."
But Alice had stopped listening. What did all of this mean? The dream of the unicorn and the pocket-watch, where she'd heard Hatter's voice saying that same phrase. A phrase she'd heard him say plenty of times before when his mind was wandering. The pocket-watch had come out of the hat in her dream. Did Hatter have something to do with why time wasn't working? How was that even possible?
She was never going to figure this out all on her own. Rory and Charlie were some help, but there was only one person who could give her all of the answers: Hatter. The one person she truly needed was the one she couldn't talk to right now.
Alice toyed with the golden flower pendant she'd found in his safe distractedly. It was strange to think about, but this was probably the longest she'd been away from Hatter since he'd turned up in her world. It wasn't that she was co-dependent, and she'd never been one to be clingy. She had just always enjoyed having him around, even when he was driving her mad. Not a day had gone by on her side of the Glass where they hadn't seen each other, even if it was just for a quick lunch.
How long had Hatter been here already? It had only been a day and a half for her, but he'd gotten here before her. With the time difference, she had no clue how much time had passed during that hour it had taken for her to follow. Six hours? Twelve? A day? A week?
Charlie was the one who finally roused her from her musings by offering her a kebab of flame-roasted strips of meat and a gentle, boyish smile. He spent the rest of the evening regaling them with stories of his long-running hunt for the Jabberwock and she could tell he was doing it mostly for her benefit, to distract her from her worry. Well, that and he visibly bathed in the rapt attention Rory fixated on him while he listened.
"We're coming, Hatter," she whispered, twirling his hat between her fingers the way she'd seen him do countless times, albeit far less gracefully. "Hold on."
Whatever was happening above was not a good thing, Hatter could tell that much. Every few minutes that long, cavernous note would sound again, vibrating down through the walls and the ceilings and into his very bones. As far as he could tell there hadn't been any more of those ground-shaking booms for several minutes now but there was something hanging in the air. Anticipation.
He was going mad trapped down in the infirmary alone. It was like just sitting around and waiting to die. He wanted to be out there, know what was happening, but the metal cuffs keeping him pinned to the floor did a good job of stopping that.
Another loud boom shook the walls and a tile broke free from the ceiling, falling to shatter on the floor. A shard of broken ceramic sliced across his shin. Would that be his fate, then? The building would collapse and he'd be crushed in the rubble, or worse still, buried alive? He couldn't think of a worse way to die, being trapped there and waiting for the hunger and thirst to finally consume him.
BOOM!
The walls vibrated again, making the mirror in the ceiling shudder ominously, and he steeled himself. He wouldn't just sit here and wait to die. After a quick internal debate he settled on using his left hand; it was already in worse shape because of his shoulder and if he had to fight his way out he'd need his right hand intact. He grit his teeth and then curled his fingers around his thumb, bending and twisting it into his palm. The joint burnt at being pulled the wrong way but eventually, by tugging at the cuff, his thumb dislocated with a dull snap. He swallowed back his scream as he manoeuvred his misshapen hand out of the metal ring.
Think of Alice... Think of Alice... He couldn't die. She'd tear Wonderland apart for him, and he couldn't stand the thought of her putting herself in that sort of danger on his account. Not to mention her poor heart; every other man in her life had left her in one way or another. He wouldn't be another name on that list.
Renewed, he started looking around for a way to free his other limbs. The cuffs had a small lock on them that he could probably pick if only – there! On a low stand above his head, he could just see the edge of a metal tray. If he was lucky it might have medical tools on it that could be useful. He got his fingers around the stand by stretching every muscle in his body to the point of pain and then dragged it to his side, hoping the grating sound of the metal legs on the tiles didn't attract attention. A tentative experiment in balance later, the tray slid off to crash to the floor right beside him.
A pair of tweezers clattered away, the bowl of blood-stained water splashed on his chest, and he very nearly got the scalpel in his leg. He rummaged through the mess of tools and washrags that had landed within his reach. The scalpel and scissors were both too wide to fit into the lock. He tried to use a pin that had been stuck through a rolled bandage but the flimsy thing bent. He moved aside another washrag and out rolled something that made him instinctively flinch: a syringe.
The glass tube of it had cracked, but the needle was long and sturdy. It might just be his salvation. He threaded the needle into the lock, his thumb impeding his progress, and were it not for his years of practice he might not have managed it at all. The lock eventually released with a bright click and he almost laughed in relief as he extracted his right hand.
Getting his legs free was easy now that he was working with a fully-functional hand. He staggered getting up, his aching muscles protesting the movement, but he managed to not fall. He had no sooner steadied himself then he heard footsteps outside. He flattened himself against the wall and waited. The door opened and he'd barely gotten a glimpse of the shaved head before he stepped out and closed his right hand around her throat, shoving her against the wall. The Pawn's eyes widened slightly but there was an amused slant to her lips as she stared back at him calmly. "They did say you were something of an escape artist."
"I could kill you," Hatter said, his voice coming out so cold and menacing it scared even him.
"Then do it," she challenged in reply. "But if you're going to, you'd better hurry because she's on her way here." Hatter didn't have to ask to know that she meant the Unicorn. For a long, tense minute they scrutinised each other, Hatter's fingers still clamped on her neck, and then he dropped his hand with a defeated sigh.
"What're you doing 'ere?" he asked, still ready to fight if the need appeared.
"I'm getting you out of here," she said, catching him off guard. "You're a liability now. She'd rather have you dead than risk anyone else getting their hands on you. We need to get you out of here." She walked over and pushed aside a wall panel, revealing a cupboard stacked with white linens. She grabbed several and held them out to him. "Quick, put these on."
"What?" Hatter unfolded them to find a tunic and pants much like hers. He struggled to put them on without jostling his injured hand, biting his cheek to stop the hiss of pain.
"Let me see that," Elaira said, taking him by the wrist. "Hmm, dislocated. So that's how you got loose then?"
"Got m'hand free then picked the lock with a syringe needle," he said, a bit smugly.
"Clever," she remarked. "Right, here goes." With no more warning than that, she tugged on his thumb, hard. Hatter growled through his teeth as it snapped back into the joint. "There, that'll help. Now let's get going before she finds us."
She darted back out through the same door she'd entered and Hatter followed her on unsteady legs, still working the tunic over his head. They were in a wide, white-tiled hallway that appeared completely deserted. The booms were louder here, and he could hear other, indistinct noises mingling with them.
Elaira led him silently down one hall and then another, only speaking to shush him whenever he stumbled and cursed under his breath. He had no idea where she was taking him, but he didn't have any choice but to trust her. The castle was built like a labyrinth and he'd never have been able to navigate it on his own.
A door on the side of the corridor opened and before Hatter and Elaira could duck aside a very large man had stepped out in front of them. The man probably weighed as much as Hatter and Elaira combined, and he presented an intimidating figure with his shaved head and all black ensemble, a rearing silver unicorn stitched onto the left sleeve. His eyes settled on Hatter straight over the top of Elaira's head.
"You!" he said in alarm, reaching for the gun on his belt.
"Duck!" Hatter shouted. Elaira dropped and he swung his right fist out, catching the man on the side of the jaw. There was a sickening crunch and Hatter felt bone fracturing beneath his knuckles before the man went down.
"Is he dead?" Elaira asked tentatively, straightening up.
"No," Hatter said immediately, although if he was honest with himself he wasn't sure. The combination of adrenaline and the lingering Fear had made his hit a lot stronger than he'd meant. "Be out for a bit. Real nasty 'eadache and he won't be chewing much for a long time."
"Wow, they weren't exaggerating about you," she said and sized him up appraisingly. She grabbed his still tender left hand and started dragging him down the corridor again.
"What 'xactly do they say 'bout me 'round 'ere?" he asked curiously. "'Cause I didn't even know you lot existed, but you all seem to know 'bout me."
"Just because we aren't a part of main Wonderland anymore doesn't mean we don't keep up with all of the stories," she chided, pulling him down a side hall. "We've heard about you, and Alice-of-New-Legend, and the Mad March Hare. They always kept an eye on you, though, because of your family. Street orphan turned businessman and con artist before you were even an adult. Also Wonderland's most dangerous fighter. The Sledgehammer; the right hand of Death."
"Then how'd you know I wouldn' kill you back there?" he asked.
Elaira laughed dryly. "You don't look like a killer. You've killed people but you're not a killer. I've worked for the Unicorn my entire life; I know what it looks like."
Even though her logic made absolutely no sense to him, the words were comforting. At least he didn't come across as a complete sociopath.
"So where – whoa." The end of his sentence was a startled sound as she suddenly tugged him through a door he hadn't even noticed. They were at the top of a flight of white, stone steps that curled around in a tight spiral so he couldn't see the bottom. It smelled strongly of earth and water. "What's'is?"
"Your way out," she explained as she took the stairs two at a time. "Underground river tunnels. We use them to carry supplies in and out of the castle." There was a shout from above and Elaira stopped, looking up in alarm. "Keep going, quick. Get to the river and get a boat. The current will carry you out. Just keep following the river and it will take you to the Forest of Wabe."
"Wait, what 'bout you?" Hatter asked.
"I'll be right behind you," she said. "I'm just going to run back up and barricade the door behind us. Give us more time."
She turned to run up the stairs but he reached out and caught her by the elbow. "Why are you doin' this? Helpin' me? Yesterday you were fine lettin' the Unicorn torture me."
"Because you love your Oyster," she said, and he was stunned by the intensity in her eyes as she stared back at him. "You really, truly love her, no tricks or bottled Emotions. I had that once, I'm not going to sit by and let the Unicorn destroy it for someone else." Before he could say anything, she kissed his cheek and then bolted up the steps and out of sight.
Hatter hesitated for a minute before moving down the stairs again. They curved around three more times and then abruptly ended at a wide, open area. It was built of earth and tile, and a river cut straight through the middle. There was a set of small wooden docks and, with the crates stacked up against the walls, the whole place had the feel of a warehouse, apart from the pair of guards patrolling by the water.
Trying to look as nonchalant as possible, Hatter walked toward them. He was only a few metres away when the first guy noticed him and, in the next second, there were two guns trained on him. "Her majesty needs everyone upstairs," he said, holding his hands up in surrender. "Can't you 'ear? We're under attack!"
The nearest guard narrowed his eyes. "Wait, aren't you–"
A high-pitched scream from above interrupted the end of his sentence, and Hatter used the moment of distraction to punch the first man in the face. The second man fired off a shot but Hatter ducked underneath it and drove his fist into his sternum. The guard collapsed, coughing blood.
"Elaira!" Hatter shouted and his heart fell when there was no response. Any thoughts of going back were banished by the thunderous footfalls of more guards coming down the stairs. There were no boats tethered at the docks, so he grabbed the nearest wooden pallet and shoved it into the river, then dove in after it.
The river was freezing and he gasped, sucking in a mouthful of water. He surfaced several yards down, spluttering, and swam to catch up to the pallet. Shivering and weak, it took everything in him to cling to the wood as the fast current dragged him into the low passage. The shouts from behind gradually faded, the tunnel opened, and when he caught sight of the night sky for the first time in days, he finally allowed himself to relax.
He was free.