6
Mirana expects her mother to be furious, to disown her immediately, to turn everything over to Iracebeth without a single thought.
What she doesn't expect her mother to be is proud beyond measure.
"Oh, darling, I'm so happy you checked yourself in!" Genevieve Underland's breezy voice cracks with the static of the speaker. "Such a shame for this to happen to you, of course, but at least you're going to get all better now. Do you know how long you'll be?"
Mirana glances at her file. "It says two weeks, but Dr. Bumby told the nurse that I might have to be longer. It all depends on the conversion therapy."
Her mother sighs. "Well, just do whatever Dr. Bumby says, and I'm sure you'll be alright."
"Thank you, mother."
"Oh, it's no trouble, darling."
An orderly in mucky green scrubs holds up a finger. One minute left. "I have to go, mother. I love you."
"I love you too, darling."
Click.
Mirana reluctantly hangs the phone back up on the receiver. On her first day at Rutledge, after congratulating her for turning herself in the way her mother had, they had taken her clothes and given her a dingy, long, white tunic to wear and shown her her room within mere minutes of changing, where she is now following the orderly back to.
Her room is at the back of the ward, a tiny four by four with hardwood rotting oak floorboards and a stiff mattress sitting on an iron bed frame covered with a paper thin green blanket and one hardly stuffed pillow. No windows, a single door that locks from the outside only, and a camera mounted in the top right corner.
In short, a prison cell.
But if this is what cures her, then so be it.
The orderly, a man with an empty expression and a sluggish gait, tells her that Dr. Bumby will be in to see her shortly. Mirana thanks him and sits down on the bed.
Evidently, shortly means a matter of seconds, because no sooner has the door closed it's opening again. A bearded brown haired man with a side part and silver spectacles wearing a white button up, faded blue vest, black tie, and slacks steps into the room, a clipboard tucked under his arm. His gunmetal blue eyes look her up and down, an appreciative smile spreading across his wrinkled face as they roam her body. Mirana feels uncomfortable under such strange scrutiny, but then remembers that it is a doctor's job to examine his patients. Still, the gleam in his eyes doesn't help ease her mind.
"Hello, Mirana." he says. "My name is Mr. Bumby. How are you today?"
"I'm fine, I suppose."
"It says here that you checked yourself in." Mirana nods. "I'm very proud of you for that. That is the first step to curing yourself — acknowledging that there is, indeed, a problem."
"Do you promise that you can cure me?"
Dr. Bumby chuckles. "I'll do more than that, I can assure you. I have another patient, a younger boy, about a few years younger than you. My plan is to cure both of you simultaneously."
Mirana stares at him, incredulous. "You can do that?"
"Of course, my dear. Now, tell me about this girl."
"Her name is Alice. Alice Kingsleigh."
It's been a week since Mirana disappeared from Underland Academy, and Alice is starting to lose it. The school's story had been medical leave, but the day Mirana left had also been the day after Alice had finally confessed her feelings, and backfired. It can't be a coincidence that the two happened so close together, and it's all her fault.
Mirana's absence has made it difficult for her to concentrate on classes, to say the least. Not many of her teachers notice, or seem to care, really. All but two, that is. Professor Alden makes it a point to rap on her desk at least once every class to reengage her, and then proceed to have her answer a series of unnecessarily difficult questions. If she's lucky, she can answer two correctly, at most, and always, after every class, he seemed to add an extra layer of work to his already heavy daily assignments that send her working into the earliest hours of the morning, three at the latest just to keep her grades high. The work isn't necessarily hard, just tedious. Professor Flora looks at her with an overwhelming sympathy whenever she thinks Alice can't see her. She's clearly worried, but seems unsure if it is her place to say anything. She makes less than subtle comments about Alice's art, which lately has been containing an awful lot of blue and white, telling her that her mind is with someone else, reaching out, searching, and that she'd love to know who if she doesn't mind telling. Alice dismisses these with what she hopes is a reassuring smile, but the wariness in Professor Flora's eyes tells her she's not very convincing. Is she really that obvious? It's not as if she's painting Mirana's portrait, but to Professor Flora, she may as well be.
The White Queen's absence has caused some turmoil in the society of the school itself. Without Mirana to campaign for herself and befriend everyone, Iracebeth has taken to destroying all of Mirana's former alliances and spreading nasty rumors about her younger sister. Tensions have skyrocketed. Iracebeth's gang, unheard of until now, has come out from the shadows, frightening anyone undecided into pledging their allegiance to the Red Queen. The Bandersnatch, as he calls himself, a salt and pepper spiky haired junior with massive biceps and thick, steel toed boots that can crush bone, would threaten to beat anyone within an inch of their life who dared oppose Iracebeth. The Jabberwocky, a tall, lean senior with dark purple and black streaked hair pulled high dressed in shredded leather from head to toe, works from the shadows, mysteriously poisoning students or stealing assignments, and sometimes even hanging someone from the Founder's statue every now and then to make an example —more often than not it ends up being McTwisp, seeing as he's an easy target. There is never any tangible proof to catch the Jabberwocky in the act, but he always seems to be in the presence of misfortune whenever he isn't following Iracebeth like a loyal pet. Stayne, of course, is her primary protector, and remains practically attached to her hip. The staff are completely oblivious to it all, or are simply choosing not to get involved, giving Iracebeth free reign of the school. As far as she knows, Alice is still undecided, but she always manages to escape the Red Queen and any of her gang with Tarrant. She spends her time out checking over her shoulder more often than she'd like.
Even without considering her personal feelings on the matter, Alice knows one thing is for certain: Mirana must come back.
Today is the final straw. When Alice passes the Founder's statue on the way to her A2 English class, she finds McTwisp hanging from the back of it yet again, but this time with a black eye. She rushes over to him immediately.
"McTwisp, how long have you been up there?" she cries, lifting the scrawny boy by his arms and onto the pathway.
"S-s-since l-lunch, I think. Oof, my h-head h-hurts." He sways a little, and Alice steadies him. "T-t-hank you, A-alice."
Alice debates whether to ask him if he's alright before realizing how silly that question is. "Do you want some ice for your eye?"
McTwisp clicks open his pocket watch. "Y-you'll b-be late."
"I don't care. Come on, there should be some in the Cicero." She pulls his arm around her shoulders and wraps hers around his waist to support him. "I've got you."
They walk back in silence, McTwisp leaning heavily against her, but Alice doesn't mind. True, he can be an absolute pain in the arse, but no one deserves this kind of abuse. She can't sit still for this, not any longer. Forget protecting herself, this can't go on.
After sitting McTwisp down on a stool, Alice retrieves ice from the dispenser and wraps it in a white cloth napkin. She hands it to McTwisp, who smiles at her gratefully. Alice realizes that this is the first time she's ever seen him smile. It's endearing and heartbreaking all at the same time. She glances at the clock, and sees that she's already half an hour late, but that hardly matters now.
"N-nivens."
Alice turns to him. "What?"
"N-nivens." McTwisp points to himself. "My n-name is N-nivens."
"Oh." Alice isn't sure what to say. "Thank you for telling me." she adds after a brief pause.
"I alw-ways went by my s-surn-name to sound t-tougher. But now, I d-don't see m-much p-point." Nivens sighs. "It's a-all over n-now, I sup-p-pose. With M-mirana g-gone, that is."
Alice lays what she hopes is a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don't give up just yet. We'll get to the bottom of this." She hopes she isn't making promises she can't keep.
They are interrupted by Chess dashing into the Cicero and immediately darting behind Alice, clinging to her waist. She winces as his long fingernails dig into her t-shirt, but decides not to mention it at the expression of pure panic in his eyes, eyes that are flashing frantically around the room.
"Chess, what's wrong?"
Iracebeth's high, nasal voice pierces the air, preceding her before she enters the room, as always.
"Here, kitty kitty!"
Chess remains hidden behind her, trembling, as Iracebeth storms into the Cicero, flanked by Stayne and the Jabberwocky. Her eyes find Alice instantly, then sweep over to Chess, who buries his face in her back.
"Cowering behind that mess of hair, are you?" She cackles. "You're lucky. She's done me an outright favor, so I won't sic my Jabber-baby-wocky on her. You're safe, for now."
Alice frowns. Favor? "What are you talking about?" She would never betray Mirana like that!
Iracebeth rolls her eyes. "Oh, don't play dumb. I know you're the reason why my sister left. I saw you two talking last week."
Nivens's eyes widen. "A-alice, is th-that t-true?"
Chess's grip on Alice loosens considerably, and he looks at her, waiting for her to confirm or deny. Alice is at a loss, her mouth becoming dry. A dull ache overcomes her, right from her heart. It is true, but not the way that Iracebeth is implying. Still, she can't get the words out. "I —"
"O-of c-c-course i-it i-is!" Iracebeth insists, mocking him. "And I can't be more grateful to her. Now, why don't you and kitty over here run along before I string you up like a rabbit again?" Her gaze returns to Alice. "I'd like to have a conversation with this one, girl to girl!"
Nivens takes Chess's hand, coaxing him to follow. He refuses to look at Alice as they leave, head down, while Chess only stares at her with a mixture of hurt and confusion as he pads after Nivens. Alice wishes she could say something to refute Iracebeth, but the Red Queen is right: she must be the reason Mirana left.
As soon as Nivens and Chess are gone, Iracebeth jerks her head towards the door. "Stayne." she orders, and he goes to close the door without further instruction before coming to stand at her side. She smiles at Alice, but it is cruel, lacking all the warmth of her sister's. Despite herself, Alice feels fear creeping up her spine, chilling her. Iracebeth can have her absolutely destroyed right now if she so desires. Iracebeth looks at the stool, then at the Jabberwocky, who wordlessly brings it over for her to sit, then sits at her feet, resting his head on her knee, much like a guard dog. In that moment, Iracebeth looks immensely, terribly regal. Once settled, she continues, tone dripping with anticipation. "So, how did you do it?"
Alice stares, bewildered. "Do what?"
"Get rid of my sister. I've been trying for years, but nothing has worked until now." She leans in. "I'm dying to know."
Alice fidgets, unsure. On one hand, she wants to tell Iracebeth that she had nothing to do with it, but that's not entirely true, but on the other, she doesn't want to pledge fealty to this monstrous woman. On an impossible third hand still, she finds it a little difficult to believe that a few words from her could drive Mirana away to whatever far off land she's gone too. Damned if she does and damned if she doesn't.
She is saved, mercifully, by the bell. Iracebeth groans, disappointed.
"We'll continue this later." she says. "I can't afford to miss my maths. Daddy dearest threatened to cut me off again if I do." She pouts. "He's so unreasonable. Anyway, meet me at the statue after class. We have much to discuss."
With that, the Red Queen and her gang depart, leaving Alice alone in the Cicero to wonder why she didn't just say no.
Alice doesn't go to her Art class and instead makes a run for the library. Truth be told, she's only ever been there once, over the summer to receive her books for the year, but she'd rather bide her time there than standing over a toilet in a cramped stall. Besides, even if she were to go to class, she'd be surrounded with reminders of Mirana everywhere. Mercifully, it is essentially empty, and the librarian, an elderly woman absorbed in her computer, pays her no mind when she walks in. She chooses a spot towards the back where she won't be disturbed and pulls out her phone.
I need your help.
There's a pause that seems to last an eternity before Tarrant responds:
What else is new? :P With what?
Alice frowns.
What's that supposed to mean?
Don't worry about it. What's the problem?
Iracebeth wants to see me after last class.
Why?
She wants to know how I got rid of her sister.
You told her you didn't, right?
Right?
no.
Why not?
Because I don't want to be one of Iracebeth's targets! Didn't you see Nivens today?
Who?
McTwisp. Anyway, what do I do?
Tarrant?
You have to meet her, otherwise she'll just have the Bandersnatch hunt you down. I can't believe I have to be the one telling you this, but lie, Alice! If she already thinks she's got you on her side, play along, since you didn't exactly deny it. We might be able to use that to our advantage.
What happened to not taking sides?
At this point, it's too late for that.
I have to go, Needles is coming back to my row. Fairfarren, Alice.
Alice clears her screen and checks the time. Twenty minutes past class. Should she risk arriving late? Maybe, but she also has that class with Chess. The look in Chess's eyes resurfaces in her memory, and a sharp pang stabs at Alice's heart. He had been so confused, unsure if there was any truth in what had been said, still believing enough in her goodness to doubt what he'd heard, but another part of him still that made him wonder if he should. Better question: can she face Chess, with him possibly believing that she had betrayed them all and brought about this miserable tyranny they now endure?
No. She can't face that look again, not now.
Alice opens her bag and takes out her binder and a few books. She'll meet Iracebeth later and follow Tarrant's advice, but for now, she might as well get some work done.