Title: Illusions & Destinies

Rating: R-M. (for violence, sex, yadayada)

Author's Note: Thanks for the encouragement everyone! The idea of who Unda is was always there but she's changed exactly WHO she is multiple times before it was settled. But then, who is she REALLY?

Still, all work no play make me feel dull. Characters are getting impatient. *taps head* and it's all up here ;)


Chapter Eleven: Defenders and Families

Amelia settled at the desk she'd been provided and stared at the long scroll that was sprawled over it from end to end. It was filled with black calligraphy and small pictures, a type of contract judging by the overly long words and legal mumbo-jumbo. The type progressively became smaller and smaller, until even if she squinted hard she could not read it. But she knew what it said; she hadn't been a prisoner for this long without knowing what a confession probably looked like.

It didn't help that sudden ball of nerves that gathered in her belly.

"I, Amelia Heart, hereby do confess to the murder of Jack Heart and the staged kidnapping of William Winston Heart," was how it began and it quickly became more and more demeaning. A list of crimes she'd heard and some that she hadn't... and all she hadn't committed. A side note had been put there; that as she was confessing, she'd be relieved of a public trial and executed informally. It was a bought confession, as her family would be assured safety from the Queen's vengeance.

Resisting the urge to scream from pure frustration, she pushed her chair back and grabbed the scroll in one hand. The guards across the way, the Diamond Mask that always watched her and the Club who was the only speaker of the two, shadowed her movements as she went to the doorway to her cell. The Diamond moved first and she saw his shadowed eyes go over her in a vague yet hungry way that sent a chill down her spine. She handed him over the scroll.

"You may tell 'Her Majesty'," she spat that out with an appropriate amount of venom, "that I refuse her offer."

She paused for effect. "As I refuse to recognize her as 'Queen'."

She glared at the Diamond but the portion of his uncovered face behind the tiny eye slits and face covering did not change expression. If anything, he seemed amused by her attempt at bravery. He handed the scroll back to the Club and took his place once again at the wall. Amelia stared after him, that tiny niggle of a plan intruding on her thoughts.

But the sound of a Club arguing at the door drew her attention from the Diamond. Turning her eyes away from him, she looked over to see two Clubs arguing with a strange man with dark eyes and grey hair. He was wearing an odd ribbed green and gold vest over striped trousers and was carrying a briefcase, which made him look something like a lawyer. But she'd already had a court appointed lawyer, so she'd been told, and that would be one from her family. Most likely one of the minor Spade families and paid off to do a poor job defending her.

The oddly dressed man gave the Diamond guard a curt nod and then handed over piece of paper that caused the two Clubs to immediately let him pass. They blustered at one another, muttering about new dwellers and arrogance but he ignored them. The man brushed past the two men and a Club hustled after him to unlock her cell door. Amelia eyed them both warily. She'd not slept well in the past few weeks, always petrified and leery of someone getting it into their head to abuse a former Queen. But besides the Diamond guard, none of the men looked at her with more than pity.

The man who entered her cell gave her only a passing look as he pulled a chair before her desk. He thunked the briefcase down onto the desk and pulled out several papers, spreading them in methodical order.

Amelia stared at him. One hand lifted to her hair to pat it self consciously, her paranoia only growing when they were locked in together but he put all of his attention to organizing his papers. He did it with such methodical obsession that she soon lost her unease and started to feel annoyed. Not used to being ignored, she pulled her own chair out and made sure it scraped noisily. The iron on cement sound made everyone wince except for her and finally the man looked up.

"Was that really necessary?" he asked curiously, like a teacher annoyed by a student.

"Who are you?" Amelia demanded as she sat down, mentally swirling her dignity around her like a protective cloak. It was an easy thing to do; every bit of her stringent Court upbringing made her seem imperious even though this man made her nervous.

A strange thing for a complete stranger to be able to do.

"My name is Leo Pardenlace."

Amelia lifted her chin defensively. "A lawyer?"

"Something of that nature," he answered with a wink. "I've petitioned to be your defender, milady."

"I've not asked for one," Amelia began and he held up a hand.

"It was not your request I came by but by another source. I'm not from the City myself." He held out a piece of paper to her. "But from a different academy of learning. One the Queen is not likely to ignore. The Father William Brigade, if you will."

She took the wrinkled paper as if it was a snake ready to bite her and scanned the page. It took some skill not to let her emotions show on her face and when she looked up at him, her expression was cool. Only a slight glimmer in her eyes betrayed anything of the hope building in her.

Pardenlace leaned forward and handed her a second piece of paper. It was filled with illegible scribble but it was clear that he was only handing her it to look formal. When she touched the paper, he grabbed her fingers in his and held them. Startled at the first human contact she had had in weeks, Amelia stared at him.

"They will torture you to get the confession they want, Majesty," he warned. "I was sent here to keep such a thing from happening."

She tensed her jaw and slipped her fingers free.

"I have the means to help you escape this place," he whispered. "You have but to ask."

"For all I know, you are an agent of the Queen who is here to catch me in a lie," she countered and he shook his head. One eye on the nearby guards, he slowly exposed his neck and the burn mark there, a Card torture brand in the shape of a broken heart, was glaringly clear. His eyes were forbidding as he pulled his collar back up and stared her down.

"My loyalties are my own," he answered. There was a hardness in his voice that made her sit back and assess this man differently. He had looked bookish, perhaps almost weak before, but there was no sign of it now. It was like he had managed to shroud himself in strength, the same way she could use her own dignity to hide her emotions.

"Torture does not worry me," she responded in a cavalier way. "I was tortured by the Red King, bullied and raped..."

"Beg your pardon, mistress, but the Red King was a different kettle of onions." He turned a third piece of paper to her, a carbon copy of her confession that they'd wanted her to sign. "The Queen wants this signed."

"I won't."

"You will if the Examiners can break you. And they have broken many good people before, strong people and you may be no different, if you will pardon the inference. The only ones who came out unscathed were either Alices or Hatters,and even then there were repercussions." He eyed her, seeing the fragility in her that she was trying so hard to mask. "You have seen them in action. Even without the Doctors, they will find a way."

He cracked his knuckles meaningfully. "Or they will simply rack you and flay you. It all depends on the Queen's mood."

He was here to warn her and it had worked. Amelia's face lost all colour and she stared at the papers. Confession or escape; both ways to avoid the painfully inventive ways of torture known to the Cards. Even if put under a trial, as was Wonderland law, she'd not be saved from the Queen's orders of interrogation. It would a form of torture, and she had no doubt would leave her begging for execution.

Without thinking, she touched her stomach and immediately her mind stilled, knowing what she had to do. There was no question: she could not leave her son. Not without fighting for the child she had tried so hard to conceive and to carry safely. She'd fight hard to be certain he would never know that painful loneliness of the old Court, the treachery of his grandmother's 'love'. So that he would never have to be nursed upon forced emotion and cold affection traded only for total obedience.

She could not leave without having a chance to twist this to her advantage. She was, after all, a Duchess and Queen.

Taking in a deep breath, she stood gracefully and Pardenlace scrambled to his own feet out of respect. Remembering her brief lessons in Queen-ship, Amelia extended a slim hand to him.

"Master Pardenlace, you may represent us in this Trial," she said, using the Royal plural and knowing fully well that the Clubs were staring. "I will not let my husband's kingdom fall like this. Present yourself shortly if you will and have the Queen's council know that I will take this to Trial. Their confession will not be signed, no matter what consequence that may be bring me."

He stared at her, absorbing the hidden message of defiance before leaning forward and kissing her ring finger.

"I will do so, my Queen."

He bowed again and stood to leave her cell, leaving the papers there for her to peruse. She stared at the one he'd first presented with her, not even noticing when he left her cell with the Clubs keeping close guard to him, and she turned it towards herself. The tiny insect crawling around the edges she recognized and its meaning was not lost on her. The caterpillar was one of the Blue Tulip variety, poisonous yet beautiful, and she used one of the candle snuffers to pick it up and place it in a spare jar left over from her earlier meal.

Staring at the insect, she knew that Pardenlace had been telling her more than just a little bit of information and it was up to her to use it to her advantage. Amelia squared her shoulders and flicked her eyes up at the impassive yet always staring Diamond guard. She knew she could use everything here to her advantage.


South Wonderland Metropolis

Pidge had been quick to tell them they needed to follow him but hadn't explained anything more. He was in a rush, a mad rush apparently, but Alice refused to let him rush her. She was exhausted just from these past few hours and when she looked at Hatter, she saw that he felt the same way. The odd plunge into Abel's memory had disorientated them both and she longed to just sit down to try to absorb just what it had been that she'd seen.

Or, at the least, sit down and dry off. She was soaked to the bone and she shivered hard to try to get warm again.

A familiar hand slid up her back and tugged her tangled hair free from her collar. Alice jumped and looked at Hatter but he was already on his way, following the two older men with the pace of a man going to executioner. Confused by these infrequent displays of both kindness and then coldness, she frowned at his back and felt something rub against her legs.

Chesh sat on her one foot and stared up at her, his feline face amused. "I see he is feeling better," he commented.

"I wouldn't be so sure. Don't try to goad him, Chesh. I think whatever control he has is still thin. Why is Pidge in such a rush?" she asked as she started off after the men, Chesh keeping pace at her side.

"Oh it is nothing much. Merely a crowd of rioters outside demanding your head," he offered and Alice stumbled in her step. "Or your mother's. I really can't be sure which. They were terribly unclear and I left early to see how well you liked seeing the history of the Drawling family."

Alice stared at the cat as his body disappeared and then reappeared before her eyes again, just his head and tail coming into substance. He looked so smug that she narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"You knew all this?" she demanded as she started off again and the cat smiled widely.

"I think you will find there is very little I don't know, Alice." His head twisted on the side and it started bouncing along beside her like an obscene ball. "But what I don't know is often something very very new to Wonderland. Or it is something I forget until a key moment."

"How old are you, Chesh?" Alice asked as she raked her eyes over the cat when he reappeared properly. It was hard to remember the man he'd once resembled when the cat sat there, his body wiggling as he prepared to jump onto her shoulders.

"Old enough to know better and old enough not to care about the consequences," he jibed just before he jumped effortlessly and she felt his weight on her shoulders, his nose just inches from her ear. "You think you are the first Oyster to deal with me? No. But you are the first to trust me thus far."

"And I hope I don't live to regret that," Alice snapped as they reached the house. She could hear the almost deafening rumble of people shouting and banging things and she followed the sound, Chesh's crypticness forgotten. Finding her way through the narrow corridors of the townhouse, Alice found Hatter and the others in the front parlour, staring out the windows intently. At first she thought that the dawns light was what was giving them a glow but as she came further into the room, she saw that it was the light from torches and lanterns.

The crowd was well over one hundred people, of different ages and races, speaking a multitude of languages all at once as they gestured at the townhouse. Alice came between Abel and Pidge and stared and almost immediately she was spotted through the window by those at the front of crowd. The shouting increased in volume and rocks were thrown at the house, but the distance was still too great to get any decent power behind the rocks. Alice swallowed audibly and looked over at Hatter nervously.

He was leaning against the wall, shadow hiding him from the crowd outside, and his right hand was flexing repeatedly. The wrapping around it was soaked in blood and he seemed distracted and distant. The way he had looked just hours before when Alice had confronted him. The shouting outside seemed to have shaken him, forcing him to retreat into that shell he'd built.

A retreat that wasn't helped when Charlie, Carol and Abigail came running into the room. They nearly collided with him but the sound of the riot outside was distracting enough for them to ignore his presence for the moment. Carol touched Alice's shoulder in greeting and they both looked out.

"Who are they?" she asked for them all and Pidge shrugged.

"City dwellers, refugees, whoever still remained in this ghost town," he answered. On Alice's shoulders, Chesh materialized and his tail twitched from side to side.

"I always did dislike the populace. So unwashed and unmannerly," he smirked and Alice pulled on his tail hard.

"They might enjoy a furry ball to kick around," Alice threatened lowly.

"I say, never have seen a gathering like this before. Do you think they are looking for refuge?" Charlie asked. A rock was thrown through the window, this time with enough force to shatter one of the panes and it landed at his feet. Charlie sniffed. "I suppose not."

"They're hear to blame someone for their current conditions, by my wager," Abigail said as she peered out one of the smaller windows. She was recognized and the shouting increased instantly. "Typical."

Carol looked over her shoulder and saw Hatter standing near the wall, his eyes closed and his head rolled back on his shoulders.

"Him, maybe?" she asked and Alice followed her gaze.

"Mom, no," she started but Hatter opened his eyes and looked at her mother.

"Would make sense wouldn't it?" he admitted. "I did cause quite a bit of trouble. All that murder and mayhem."

Alice and Charlie both saw that he was deliberately goading Carol, likely to mask his own conscious. It was Abel who spoke, his voice stern,

"Enough, Carol Hamilton."

"They aren't here for him, anyway," Abigail said and for the first time, mother and son looked at one another with equal recognition. He rolled his eyes dismissively and looked away first. Abigail flinched but carried on, trying not to show how hurt she was. "I let the rumour grow that he'd been killed. Figured it was safer that way since the Drawling Manor went up in flames; better than having the Queen and the Resistance both looking for him."

"So that means?" Pidge had turned from the window, staring at his aunt in ill-concealed impatience.

"Really, Alastair, don't be thick," she scolded and jutted her chin out at the two women standing beside him. "They are here for them."

"Us?" Carol repeated out loud. "Why us?"

Abel leaned away from the window. "A very good question. Let's ask."

Before anyone could respond, he was already out the door, giving Hatter a hearty clap on the shoulder as he went. Game as always, Charlie and Alice followed, leaving a blustering Carol and Pidge to follow. Abigail was the last to leave and she went into a near run to get by Hatter.

His arm lashed out across the door frame, nearly knocking her down, and he blocked her from leaving. Abigail leaped back from him though the rest of him hadn't moved and she swallowed noisily. Hatter stared at her, his expression void of any curiosity or interest. There was almost nothing in his face to show what he was thinking. But his right arm still remained blocking her, his fist clenched and she raised her chin, not wanting to back down from the obvious threat he held.

It was his disinterest that caused a chill to go up her spine. His eyes went over her face and not once did a hint or tick change that disinterested and unaffected look to him.

Abigail took that moment, precious as it was to her, to really look at her long-lost son. Twenty-five years had passed since they'd last been together, twenty-five years of pain and longing. Of wanting to change her decisions time and time again. When all she'd wished was that she could take each regretful moment in her past and erase them, to somehow change the horrible decisions that had brought them all to this point. She'd never dreamed of this chance to see him again and she drank in every detail about her son with almost greedy eyes.

Their brief meeting in the Manor had not really satisfied her curiosity. Especially when what she'd seen had brought back a multitude of memories.

Dear Wonderland, he even stood like his father; casually arrogant and still a bit twitchy. Even now, like his father, it made him seem always on edge for something new and exciting. The way his fingers would flex and dance at his sides, as if the energy inside him was boundless and needed an outlet; the way his head tilted to look at her intently and the set to his features. All things that let her know that some things could never change. Everything about him practically screamed of his parentage, the little pieces of herself and Grey that manifested themselves together in the young man looming dangerously next to her. She'd never doubted that he'd become something more than what history demanded of him and now it was clear that she was right.

He was something far more than just a mad Hatter, born to madness and magic.

Even though the noise outside was becoming deafening, Abigail ignored it to stare at her son. But her eagerness fell flat when she looked into his dark eyes, still tinged with traces of green and amber, and saw nothing there. No emotion at all. Not happiness or rage, laughter or guilt, relief or furious agony.

Just nothing.

She cleared her throat noisily and Hatter's one eyebrow lifted a bit. He took it as a hint that the silence was making her uneasy.

"Well well," he said, his voice flat and without any emotion. "So you're alive."

Behind him, Alice suddenly reappeared with Chesh still perched on her shoulders but she didn't speak a word when she saw the pair of them. She knew how dangerously on edge Hatter was still and she pressed against the door-frame to listen.

"I..." Abigail licked her suddenly dry lips. "Yes."

Hatter eyed her still, his expression not changing. "Interesting."

"Noble... Hatter, I'm sorry. I did not want to hurt you." She reached out to touch him but he was already turning from her. He saw Alice standing there, staring at them apprehensively, and arched a brow. She stared up at him, her own blue eyes wide and he gave her a sardonic half-smile that made her feel edgy.

"Far more important things to get done, don't you think?" he asked Alice and she blinked. "I'll stay in the house. Better for them not to know I'm alive and I doubt I want this sort of company right now."

Alice saw Abigail flinch at Hatter's veiled insult and felt a bare pity for the woman but not much. Anytime she thought to pity Hatter's mother, she would remember the times Hatter's sadness at her supposed loss had caused him madness, and she would lose that pity. Nodding to Hatter, Alice managed to look away from his intense expression and glanced at Abigail.

"The Drawling Master wants you out there."

With her head down like a scolded child, Abigail squeezed by Hatter and went out into the front yard. Alice looked over her shoulder at Hatter and saw him still staring at her, the stoic mask he'd had crumbling. He looked like a lost little boy and for a moment she thought to go and comfort him. But Hatter was already turning away from her, retreating to the shadows of the room to watch the outside.
Chesh's claws sank into Alice's shoulder. "It is best," he warned, "not to overplay your hand. Leave him alone for now."


When faced with the state of Wonderland, the rioters were almost blinded with their fury. Nearly all of them had lost their homes in the swallowing darkness of Wonderland's seeming wrath or had been chased from their cities by Selina and the Resistance, and by the Queen's secret police. The propaganda that they had been fed by both the Resistance and the re-formed White Rabbit had at first been ignored but now it had gnawed away at them. All of them were hungry and frustrated, weary of the endless variations of bad news that had bombarded them in the past weeks.

And they'd come to believe, as the Queen had planned, that it was all the fault of an Oyster named Alice. Gone were the times when Alices were thought of as mythological heroines who always heralded a new age for Wonderland. Now the ideas of Oysters and Alices were nothing more than a curse. A curse they all had come together to break when word had gotten out that she was hiding in their city.

As volatile as the crowd was, having been whipped up by the latest sinking of a desert town into the very earth, into blackness, they were almost cowed when the famed Drawling Master appeared through the morning fog to stand on a low wagon before them. Few of them had ever seen him but the whispers went through the crowd by those who did know of him. Instantly, they all quieted in some reverence for his reputation.

It was when Alice and Carol came into view, Alice's face recognized by the wanted posters and holo's that had gone out over the course of the past week and Carol by the unchecked glimmer to her own person, that the crowd became wild again. Abel looked over his shoulder at Pidge and the younger man bounced onto the box, wielding his croquet mallet once more. The threat was obvious when he slammed it hard into the wagon-bed and several boards cracked on the sides. It silenced the crowd and he looked at a few of the rock throwers as if daring them to see how good their aim was. He swung it back over onto his shoulder and twirled the handle between his fingers casually.

Abigail and Charlie followed last, Charlie wisely keeping an eye on the doorway leading to the house. Abigail looked visibly shaken but she took her place beside her father with her usual dignified grace.

After a few moments of silence, Abel cleared his throat. "Well? Are we all out here for a tea party or do you all have some sort of reason to disturb my family?"

"We want the Oysters!" someone shouted from the middle of the crowd and Abel arched a brow.

"Oh, and what will that solve?"

"The Queen is scouring the cities, looking for the Oysters. She burned Stableton to the ground!" the same person shouted and he held up a soot-soaked child as if to give evidence of it.

Abel made a rude sound and rolled his eyes. "I highly doubt that the Queen herself has physically done anything. She always lets others do the dirty work."

"You know what we mean, Lord Drawling!" a very young man shouted and he focussed on him. Abel recognized him as one of the refugees that had been at the Manor. Likely he was a reason why they knew the Oysters were with him. The boy blushed under the look and stammered. "Y-you know that she wants those Oysters."

"It's all the Oysters' fault in the first place!" a woman shrieked and there were shouts of agreement from the crowd. "Our kingdom fell under their emotions in the first place!"

"The Queen rose to power because of them!" another man added and Abigail scoffed.

"You absolute idiots!" she shouted back and even Alice jumped at the strength in her voice. "It is your own damn faults for falling under her sway. You always had the power to resist her but were too scared to! You were nothing more than Bilihoop cows to a slaughter!"

"Easy for you to say, Lady Drawling! Born to riches you were," the woman yelled and Abigail made a face.

"Hardly, Leona Act. Do not make this into a riot about class!"

That started a whole new batch of yelling and Alice frowned, looking at Abel. He was staring at her solemnly and she felt her heart leap into her stomach. It almost looked like he was considering giving her up to them. Her fear showed so clearly in her eyes that he suddenly smiled and took her hand in his.

"None of that, my girl. Like I said, you are family now. Do not hold this against them," he said as he gestured at the increasingly deafening crowd. "They are merely frightened."

"If the Oysters' sacrifice is what will keep our world from falling apart, I say we give them up!" the boy shouted.

"What does that solve?" Pidge said suddenly, his low voice carrying. He sounded threatening without really raising his voice.

"The Queen will reward us for our loyalty!"

"What loyalty? When we all rejoiced her downfall when Jack Heart and this Alice took her down? Do you really think she will just smile and reward you all?" Pidge countered. "She'll have your heads the moment the Oysters are in her grip. Don't you all remember how it was under her rule? Or has your fear addled your heads?"

There was a titter in the crowd, a ripple of confusion going through them. Alice looked over them all, seeing the desperation and fear that each of them was feeling, and felt her body grow cold with sympathy. It flooded her and the strength of the feeling made her stumble a bit. Carol caught her and she looked at her mother to see that she was feeling the same thing. In fact, for the first time, Alice noticed that her mother seemed to be paler than normal, as if the fear here was dragging her down.

"Wonderland's effect on emotions can be reversed, in a strange way," Chesh whispered in Alice's ear, his invisible fur brushing her cheek. "Can't you imagine how easy it is to blame others?"

Alice's mind snapped back to the first time she'd come to Wonderland, when she had blamed Hatter for trying to sell her, blamed Jack for betraying her for the Duchess, blamed the world for conspiring against her, and ultimately blamed herself for her father's death. The last had been one of the most painful times in her young life and she shut her eyes at the memories. Curling her arms around her middle, Alice felt a very real sense of loss and without realizing it, she let the others feel it too.

The others on the cart didn't notice the shift in the crowd until the first child started to wail as if struck. Then it carried until everyone was crying and carrying on like infants. Wrinkling his brow in confusion, Abel looked at his daughter and she shrugged. Pidge glanced and then gave his grandfather a hard nudge before nodding at Alice.

She was glowing faintly, a shimmer to her skin that made her seem fragile, but she too looked sad and downtrodden. Abel looked at her and then at the crowd and then back at her, his brain clicking away. She'd granted them a few moments to collect their wits and he was thankful for it. Squeezing her hand gently, he looked back at the crowd to see that some had recovered a bit and were ready to start shouting once more.

"We are leaving this day to go to the City," he announced, not hearing his daughter's faint gasp of surprise. "To form a Resistance to bring down the Queen. We ride out shortly and I will not let you take Alice from her family."

Alice opened her eyes and stared at him incredulously at this open declaration but he didn't look at her. He only had eyes for the crowd and Alice felt a faint prickle of energy go from her hand to his, like a static shock. It made her fingers feel almost numb and she grabbed hold of Carol's hand to steady herself. The prickle and snap of a shock went through her hand to Alice's and then to the Drawling Master and she saw him sway a little as if he'd felt it as well.

"Go away," he whispered and it was like a wave of energy flashed out across the crowd. But instead of a shock-wave that would knock them over, it was like a soft glimmer of light that passed from person to person. Like people departing from a funeral, they all backed off as if overwhelmed by their own self-pity. Abel kept a tight hold of Alice's hand until the last person had turned away and headed back into the dim streets.

Once that person was walking away, he collapsed back into Abigail's waiting arms.

"You overexerted yourself," she scolded, checking his pulse. Alice turned, shocked at the grey tone to his skin and at the way his hands trembled. Both she and Charlie knelt beside him, the White Knight helping Abigail brace Abel onto his seat in the wagon. Abel had faint beads of sweat on his forehead and his daughter wiped them off gently, the affection she had for him clear.

"I wish you'd not do that. You know you don't have that strength," she whispered and he scoffed.

"Of course I do, dear girl. Just need a bit of rest."

Pidge stepped beside Alice and she looked up at him. "He's not well?" she asked curiously and he looked her over.

"No. He hides it well but he is old, Alice. Happens when he uses that remnant of magic he has left." He made a face. "The family has always had a bit of magic but he's the only who really uses any of it."

"Because I'm closer to the source of it than the rest of you mongrels," Abel grunted in annoyance. "Get me up."

They all helped him to his feet and with a disgusted sigh, Abel brushed himself off and Carol crossed her arms over her chest.

"What was that?"

"Just used your magic with mine, that's all."

"So they all left because of us?" Carol asked, glancing at Alice. Unlike Alice, she'd never used any sort of glow because she did not have it manifested. Alice's gryphon tattoo was moving on her skin a bit, rippling with green light, and Alice wondered if it was just the mark that was the reason why Carol did not have a strong glow.

Her baby moved inside of her, a multitude of tiny flutterings that sent a flood warmth through her body, and Alice put her hand on her stomach. It had felt like there was a whole mass of butterflies in her stomach and she swallowed down the bit of nausea that came with it. Abel was trying to explain the glows and she cleared her throat noisily.

"We're riding out of here?" she demanded.

"Well... ah, no." He rubbed at his cheek thoughtfully. "Just was something to put them off the scent. I'd wager ten momeraths to one bandersnatch that the Queen and Dodo both had their spies in that group. We can't risk them finding us, especially if Hatter is coming with us."

He looked at Alice expectantly and she nodded.

"Good. I think his company will be entertaining," he said.

"Not to mention instructive," Charlie interjected and Abel shrugged.

"I suppose."

"So just how are we leaving, if not by horse?" Abigail demanded, furious that he'd derailed their careful plans. He gave a sheepish grin.

"Well, by train of course. The Ouestern train will be making its rounds back this way now, since it had to go all the way south."

"The train? Wouldn't it have fallen into the darkness?" Pidge asked and Abel smiled.

"One would think but we," he gestured to Chesh on Alice's shoulders, "happen to have heard a little bird say that it had survived. Good luck that, hmm?"

"Too good of luck," Pidge muttered to himself.

"We can catch it on the run if we must. I highly doubt it had stopped to pick up passengers. Be a week's journey from here to the outskirts of the Lake, Charlie's area I believe, and well worth it to cultivate some allies. We need to defeat the Queen of Hearts and save the prince and his mother," Abel finished.

"Catch it on the run?" Carol asked weakly. The Drawling Master winked at her.

"Always sounds worse than it is. It runs near to the start of the Singing Woods, and I do believe the Woods will help us if a certain someone sweet-talks them," he answered, looking at Abigail. She rolled her eyes.

"Fantastic. I get to talk to the plants again."

"Don't quibble. They may be the only ones interested in your conversation," he responded.

"Least they have better wit than most who talk to me," she snapped back, but her eyes were dancing with humour.

"So what are we going to do then? To help take back the City?" Carol asked. Alice looked at the house and saw the shadow of Hatter in there.

"We're going to build a new Resistance, right under the Queen's nose. With people she'd not expect to try," she answered for the Drawling Master and he grinned widely at her.

"I always did love a challenge, dear girl."


Author's note: and I had an argument about formatting, so if anything looks screwy, I apologize. it's 2 am, I hardly feel ready to fight a website ;)