Disclaimer: All characters except for Aldric and Cotie do not belong to me and are the fabulous creations of either Lewis Carroll or Tim Burton.
Mallymkun didn't know where she was. Her feet touched cool metal, and there was nothing in reach. There weren't any notable sounds or smells to give her a hint as to her surroundings, either. All she could remember was trying to evade a snatching hand, several loud thuds as her pursuer knocked over furniture, and then she was moving very fast through the air in a vice-like grip. Her hatpin was gone, too. She felt uncomfortable without it at her hip.
Again, the Dormouse extended her arms, trying to feel around her. She took a tentative step, and her hands came in contact with something smooth and solid. A wall?
"There's no way out, in case you were wondering," an unfamiliar voice said. Mallymkun turned around sharply towards the sound.
"I should apologize for bringing you here in such a hurried manner," the voice continued nonchalantly. "You will be staying here for a while…as my guest, of course."
"Who are you?" Mallymkun asked. "What do you want?"
"So cliché!" The voice laughed. "Why would I have any reason to tell you that?" It sounds like a human, Mallymkun thought. But…different, somehow.
"No, my dear Mallymkun," said the voice. (I will not ask "How do you know my name?", Mallymkun thought.) "You play a very specific role in my plan. Now, let's get right to it, shall we?"
Suddenly Mallymkun was struck by something very hot and with a lot of sharp points, and she fell backwards with a short cry of pain. But she was struck again and again, and just when she thought she could take no more she had to endure new torture.
"Nothing personal, Mallymkun," the voice said between attacks. "Rest assured that it all serves a greater purpose."
The Dormouse touched her chest, and her hand came away sticky with her own blood. The next jolt drove her to unconsciousness.
The man frowned at the limp figure. "Well, now, that's unaccommodating," he said. "Now I'll have to wait for you to wake up, or else you won't feel anything. No matter, I'll just move on to part two. It's time to mobilize the troops."
Alice didn't realize that she had fallen asleep until the Ace woke her with a gentle touch on the shoulder.
"Any news?" she asked, rubbing her shoulder. She had spent an uncomfortable night on her throne. It's no surprise I fell asleep, she thought. I must have been up for nearly twenty-four hours!
"No word from the bloodhound," the Ace said. "But there's a man here who says he's from a small village on the border between Iplam and Witzend. Apparently, his village was attacked last night."
Alice sat up straight. "Where is he?"
"Waiting in the hall."
"Bring him in."
The Ace crossed the room quickly and opened the door. In walked a man slightly taller than Alice, with raven-black hair and tan skin, uncommon for an Underlander. He wore a plain farmer's outfit and seemed a bit out-of-place in the extravagant throne room—but there was a sword at his belt, Alice noted. The man stared at Alice for a few seconds with wide honey-colored eyes, but then he remembered where he was and bowed deeply.
"Your majesty," he said.
"Rise," Alice said, trying not to let her impatience show. "What is your name?"
"Aldric, your majesty," said the man as he unbent. "Aldric Tussen."
"Tell me what happened, Aldric Tussen," said the queen.
"Well, late last night I was on my way home from the fields—since you dethroned the Red Queen, your majesty, Iplam's soil has become fertile again—when I heard a strange sound, like some wild animal's battle cry," Aldric began. "Suddenly there were people and animals everywhere, attacking the houses and us villagers! And they didn't stop for anything—if you cut them, they didn't bleed or even seem to feel pain. They looked odd, too, but I couldn't describe it. And they didn't have shadows in the moonlight, either."
Aldric suppressed a shudder at the memory. "I tried to fight them off, your majesty, but there were just too many of them. I heard my friends and neighbors screaming for help, but I was just as helpless. All I could think to do was grab my horse and to ride here as fast as I could to seek help."
"His horse is being cared for in the stables," the Ace said.
Alice nodded slowly. "Do you think you could manage a return trip, Aldric?" she asked.
"Most certainly, your majesty," the man affirmed. "I need to know what's become of my home, and my friends."
Alice turned to the Ace. "Organize a military escort," she said. "I'm going to Iplam."
The Ace bowed, but his eyes were quizzical. "Are you certain that that is wise, your majesty?"
"It's better than sitting here and waiting for something to happen," Alice pointed out.
"I'm coming, too."
All eyes turned to the door, where Tarrant stood. His face was expressionless, but his arms were crossed and it was clear he wouldn't take "no" for an answer. Did he get any sleep last night? Alice wondered, looking at his unusually blank eyes.
"Of course," she said. Tarrant turned away, satisfied.
Better that he have my permission to leave, and be under my watch, than to have him disobey and do something reckless, she thought, justifying her choice to herself.
Bayard had followed the strange scent all the way to Witzend before he found its source—a boulder in the middle of the path. Odd, he thought, sniffing the boulder. Usually, a rock smells like…a rock.
The bloodhound nudged the rock with his nose, and to his surprise it gave way, vanishing to reveal a wide tunnel sloping downwards—big enough for a human or even a large animal like a horse to fit through. Without hesitation, Bayard went down. The light in the tunnel was very dim, but there didn't seem to be anything to see. Soon Bayard found that he was no longer walking on dirt, but on some kind of metal.
This tunnel is man-made, he thought as the ground leveled out and he now stood at the beginning of several long hallways, branching off in many directions. He breathed in deeply—the strange scent was very strong here.
Suddenly, a jet-black cat stepped out of the shadows, blinking its bright yellow eyes at him in surprise.
"You!" hissed the cat. "You are not of the Between, nor are you close to it. You are Underlandian!"
"Who are you?" Bayard asked. "What are you talking about?"
"I should turn you in," the cat said, glancing around nervously. "If only the Lord was here, then I would turn you in."
"What lord?"
"The Lord of Between." The cat's voice was hushed. "He is not here now, but he will return."
Bayard frowned, thinking. "What's your name?" he asked.
"My…name?" The cat hesitated. "I was once called…Cotie."
"I'm Bayard," said the bloodhound. "Cotie, is there anyone else here who isn't…'of the Between'?"
"There is a man, and a horse," Cotie said, seemingly encouraged by Bayard's kindness. "Also, there is another. The Lord keeps her here, separate from the rest of us. We do not speak to her. The Lord has her submit to torture for days on end. Always, we can tell that she drifts closer to the Between, but she does not give in. I believe that she waits for a man—she never so much as whimpers when the Lord touches her, but she cries for her man while she sleeps. She calls his name."
"Would that name she calls be 'Tarrant,' by any chance?" Bayard asked.
Cotie nodded. "It is."
Mallymkun! "Take me to her. Please."
The cat looked uncertain.
"She is my friend," Bayard said.
Cotie glanced around again. "Very well," she said. "But when the Lord returns, I will have no choice but to turn you in."
The cat turned and walked down one of the hallways, Bayard at her heels. Now the bloodhound saw that she seemed to be soaked with water, but she left no puddles as she walked and seemed to find no discomfort from her state.
"Cotie, what is the Between?" he asked.
"The Between is between Underland and Overland," was the soft reply. "No one but the Lord is from the Between, but all eventually will go there. And once there, you do not return. Or at least you should not return, but the Lord has brought many of us here with him."
Suddenly, Bayard understood. "Are you saying that the Between is death?" he gasped.
Cotie did not falter in her pace, but looked him steadily in the eyes. "Once, I lived in Underland," she said. "But that was a very long time ago. I fell off a rock into a lake…I had never learned to swim, Bayard, and so I went to the Between."
That explains why she's so wet. "Are you a ghost?" the bloodhound asked.
"I am a Betweenling," Cotie corrected.
"Why are you here?" Bayard pressed. "What's the Lord going to do?"
"Here she is," Cotie said, ignoring the question and indicating a nearby window in the wall. "Only the Lord can enter."
Bayard placed his front paws on the wall, looking in through the window. The room inside was small and just as dim as the hallway. He could see Mallymkun lying on what looked like a shelf extending from the wall under the window. The Dormouse was curled up in a fetal position, her clothes torn and her fur matted with blood.
"Every day, she is closer to the Between," Cotie whispered.
"Mallymkun," Bayard said gently, leaning in close to the window. "Wake up, Mallymkun. Wake up."