Morning came, dark and cold as always in the Outlands.
Time was already working outside. Spare pieces of metal surrounded him in a perfect circle.
No matter how early Tarrant rose from his sleep, he couldn't wake before him. Sometimes, he wondered if Time slept at all.
"I thought you wouldn't wake up . I don't understand the mortal fascination with sleeping, considering that's all you end up doing for eternity once your time is up." Time said him without looking at him. He was kneeling next to a sphere-shaped metal machine. He joined the pieces together at a speed only possible for Time himself.
It had taken him only an instant to assemble it, but Time insisted in perfecting even the tiniest of details before he allowed Tarrant to lay a finger on it.
A week had passed since then.
Time was no less jealous over his machine than an artist over his paintings, and he was rather finicky with the amount of help he accepted from Tarrant.
Which, much to Tarrant's despair, was little to none. At best, Time considered him a pest, but he let him stick around while he worked on the machine , as long as he didn't touch anything.
However, Time quickly grew tired of Tarrant's curious eyes gazing upon his creation , and he would then dismiss him with an uncaring wave of his hand, as if he was shooing a bug flying close to his ear. He acted annoyed, but something told Tarrant that Time found solace and satisfaction in seeing the awe his creations caused reflected on people's faces.
Tarrant dared not to say it out loud, but if the machine caused awe, it was only beacuse of its mytical nature, not its aesthetic magnificence.
Its design was a reminiscence of the Chronosphere, though this was a much rougher work, not nearly as sophisticated as the heart of all time. The pieces were joined together in a random manner,with irregular angles and sharp ends giving a menacing aura to it.
They were all covered in rust and spoilt by wear, rather than shining in everlasting gold.
It was true that efficiency overcame the aesthetic in this case, but Tarrant more often than not wished to improve its appearance with some colorful adornments of his own invention. Or as colorful as he could make them with the decrepit resources of Iracebeth's castle and the barren Outlands.
He only wished to help.
He needed to.
If he was going to see Alice again, it also had to be something he had worked hard to accomplish, not just gifted to him by a moody, old, fussy-
"Stop staring or I'll stop working." Grunted Time with a cranky voice.
Tarrant folded his arms and turned his back on Time. He had to bit his toungue to keep his opinions unspoken.
It was the least he could do , to show Time some respect.
All in all, Time had been considerably generous. Tarrant knew he had to be grateful, even if it meant to endure Time's overbearing pickiness.
Besides, it wasn't as if Tarrant could have ever done a better job on his own.
"Yes, good morning to you too." Tarrant looked at the ground and found a small shinny gear, one of the few where rust hadn't left its mark. He picked it up and, biting his lower lip, he approached the machine with discrete steps. "I'll just put this right here. It'll look pretty, like a flower in a lady's hair."
Time gasped at the Hatter's intrusion and slapped the gear off of his hand.
"Stop, your clumsy hands will ruin it all!" Time shrieked as he pushed Tarrant away. He was no less paranoid than he would have been if Tarrant had dared to touch the Chronosphere.
Tarrant caught a glimpse of Time's wide opened sky-blue eyes behind the binoculars Tarrant had attached to his hat.
They had once been Iracebeth's treasured opera glasses, but that was one tiny piece of information Tarrant had kept from Time.
"I think you are overreacting a little, my friend." Said Tarrant as he rubbed his hand. "Maybe you need a small dose of oil."
"I'm all out of oil, and I can't have more because that Second has forsaken me." Time looked away in the opposite direction, trying to hold back the tears tickling in his eyelids. "It ran away this morning, and it never came back. But I'm not sad about it, my Seconds are free to do as they wish. Their ingratitude doesn't affect me. Ingratitude!"
"But it is in your head."
"No, I didn't imagine it. It happened." Said Time solemnly as he put a hand on his chest. "Alas, stupid Second, it will always be in my heart."
"No, I meant that it is ON your head." Tarrant pointed atop Time's hat, where the Favorite Second was already refilling the oil deposit. "Sorry, wrong preposition."
"Oh." Time spread his arms before him, and the Second jumped into them while ticking happily. "Where have you been, little trinket? You wander off like that again, and you'll be in great trouble. No, no, don't pout at me like that, it won't work. You can't always cry away your problems, that you can't."
"Maybe it wandered off because you never let it help you with anything, and watching you work it's not exactly the most entertaining thing…." Said Tarrant as he played with his thumbs.
"Are you still talking about the Second, or about yourself?" Time went back to work without granting Tarrant more attention than needed. "And I'm not here to amuse you. If that's what you want, then you should go back home, to your crazy friends . You know, back to the lazy rat and the ghastly cat with the creepy smile… Cheese or whatever his name is."
"Mally is not a rat, and Chessur is not a cheese!" Exclaimed Tarrant.
"But is he creepy?"
"Well-"
"Aha! You hesitated, so that means I'm right and you're wrong. I win! Now shut up and let me work. Go be useful or useless elsewhere." Time gave no place for contradictions, and became so focused in his work that Tarrant could have yelled in his ear and still he wouldn't have moved an inch.
The Second finished filling up the hat's oil deposit and went to Tarrant immediately after, butt-heading his legs gently as it jumped around him with uncontained enthusiasm.
It certainly wasn't the most useful of the Seconds, and Tarrant often wondered how quickly the whole process would had been if it had been Wilkins helping Time instead.
But its merry nature was much welcome to Tarrant, and a much rarer find in the Outlands.
Tarrant picked it up and noticed a pink fluff lingering on the Second's back.
"Could it be?" Tarrant held the Second with one hand and searched inside his pocket with the other. He took out a shaggy, dirty feather and compared it with its match. " Borogoves... in the Outlands? Little guy, you have made an historical discovery today! I'd be much grateful if you guided me to where they are. Just thinking of all the colorful adornments I could make with their feathers sends shivers down my spine."
Tarrant began to dance, jumping from one side to the other, holding the equally happy Second close to his chest. He laughed and it ticked in unison.
Their dance was shattered by Tarrant's sudden halt. A serious frown replaced his joyful grin.
"That was annoying, and unnecessary. Annoyingly unnecessary, unnecessarily annoying." Said Time . "If you do it again, I'll summon the Pendulum and send you flying into infinity. Mark my words, Hatter."
"No, no. The borogoves will have to wait. I have to fecth some ice, my friends need it. How selfish of me!"
"Did you hear to what I said?" Time repeated, lifting his head like an offended peacock, but Tarrant passed next him as if nothing, mumbling to himself with the Second tailing him like a shadow. "How dare you ignore Time? The One, the Only, the Infinite!"
Tarrat snapped out of his thougts and smiled.
"I'm sorry, did you say something?"
"I said-" Time started, but the Hatter walked off again, lost in thought.
"Fetch ice for them, that's what I must do!"
"Stop ignoring me, you fool!" Snapped Time. "The gall of you mortals never ceases to amaze me. And if the fruit people need the ice so desperately, they should go fetch it themselves. Keep doing them favors and they will either become useless creatures, or they'll take advantage of your kindness."
"A little solidarity never hurt anyone." Replied Tarrant.
"But much of it has." Asserted Time.
"If that's the case, then it was wrongly applied."
"I'm just giving you some advice, Hatter."
"And I thank you for it, but I don't need it."
"You know so little."
"I know enough."
"Do what you want then, since you are so wise." Spat Time. "In fact, if you are so much wiser than me, then maybe you don't need my help at all."
He threw the spare pieces he was holding to the floor. They smashed against each other and resonated like the hollow ding of a bell. Steam came out of the valve of his hat, emptying half of the oil in storage.
"Why are you so upset?" Asked Tarrant, confused at Time's tantrum. The Second hid behind him, trembling and shaking without control. "I wasn't trying to offend you, Time. I'm sorry if I did, but with or without your approval, I'm still going to get some ice."
"Be my guest. You are free to do your will." Said Time , still incensed. "It's not the first time my advice goes unheard."
"Uh?"
"Just leave."
Tarrant agreed to that, and he felt no remorse in leaving Time working alone with the machine. The Second accompanied him.
Time's attitude had been more childish and out of place than usual, and Tarrant wasn't in the mood to put up with it.
What did Time have against ice anyway?
Had it ever offended him in some way, by givng him a cold?
Had the fruit people ever caused offense?
Of course they hadn't.
"Fool."
Tarrant stopped and turned on his heels.
"Stop calling me that." He stated harshly.
"Then stop acting like one." Time shrugged. "Why walk all your way there if you have your Gyre-Hat?"
"It hasn't been working well. I probably damaged it when I tried to reach Upperland on my own." Accepted Tarrant, putting a hand on his hat.
"Then fix it."
"I cannot, not without the proper materials."
"Then go get them."
"I cannot."
"Why not?"
"I'd need to go back home."
"Then go back home."
"I cannot do that, Time. I can't go back." Tarrant said, the lump in his throat deepening his voice. "Do you understand that?"
Time kept silent, his attention back at fixing the machine.
Tarrant waited , but an answer never came, so he decided it was best to leave.
A few minutes after he was gone, Time stopped working and watched from afar how Tarrant and his Second walked towards the chilling mountains.
It was a long way to walk.
Going by foot was impractical and a waste of himself, but that was none of his bussiness. He was already helping the Hatter more than enough.
He had no time to do anything else for them.
A weight inside his pocket became heavier at this thought.
He took Alice's gift out of it.
"Fool." He gazed at the clock's cover, thinking of the paralized hands behind it, stiff like heart that would never beat again.
He held it gently between his hands.
"I do."
Tarrant put the bag filled with ice down and knocked the door.
No one answered.
He could hear someone weeping inside.
He took a deep breath and sighed it out with pity.
He had lost count of the number of sprouts that had wiltered and faded away like ash in the wind before they had the chance to bloom. Sometimes, they rot the moment they were planted.
How many others had suffered the same fate before Tarrant had arrived?
Knowing the answer was something better left unknown, Tarrant left the bag and went outside the castle. His Schnozzless friend needed to be alone with her grief.
It was the most considerate thing he could do for her.
Once back outside, he tried to find someone in need of his help, but the fruit people were capable to carry out their daily activities on their own. Not long ago, he had killed his free time with lenghty hours of sleep , but now that he had abandoned his search for Alice in his dreams, it seemed like a pointless activity.
He knew he had something else to do. He had to see how Time was doing.
But that was the last thing he wished to do. It wouldn't be long before Tarrant couldn't hide behind a smile the indignation Time's ill treatment caused him.
He wasn't a lap dog Time could order around and treat like mud in his boots everytime he wished to, knowing that it would always return to its master with the tail between its legs.
He hadn't escaped Iracebeth's tyranny just to subjugate himself to another ruler's coercion, not even of Time himself.
Regardless of how much he was helping him.
"Tick!" The Second atop his hat demanded his attention like a bored child looking for amusment. It jumped on his hat until half of Tarrant's face was buried under it.
"Now is not a good time, little one." Tarrant explained, but the Second's ticks and jumps only become more resteless. "Time never taught you manners, did he? What a surprise."
With one high final jump , the Second brought the hat down all the way to Tarrant's chin.
"Alright, alright, we'll go see Time now! Just stop, you are making me look like a hat that grew legs of its own." Said Tarrant a little angry, though the image of a walking hat made him chuckle. If such hats existed, they would become Witzend's new sensation in the blink of an eye. "For someone who lacks a language, or a mouth for that matter, you surely know how to get your point across."
"Tick."
Quicker than he would have preferred, Tarrant reached the place where the machine rested, like a forgotten monument of old.
Cracking his fingers and practicing a smile, he put his hands on his hips.
"Greetings! How is your Timeliness doing?"
Time said nothing.
He was still offended.
"Listen Time, we should put this silly fight behind us and move on. What do you say?" Said Tarrant, looking for Time at the other side of the machine. "Time? Time!"
Time wasn't there.
There was only empty space.
Tarrant's heart sunk inside his chest, and he ran around the machine as if he was competing in a Caucus race. But it didn't matter how many time he ran around the machine, he couldn't find Time.
"He left. He really left..."
His limbs went limp and hanged against his ribs like loose ropes.
The possibility of Time abandoning him had always been there, but merely as a joke Time disguised as a threat. Or so had Tarrant believed.
Regardless of his many complaints, Tarrant hadn't thought Time would abandon him for real.
Once again, Tarrant realized how little he knew Time. It didn't matter how ill or good he thought of him, all of his conclusions about Time were always incorrect. Maybe Time was too complex for him to understand, maybe he was too simple to interpret him correctly.
And now, he was gone.
"Time." Tarrant whispered, feeling how the ground under his feet crumbled down, just like his hopes.
"Yes?"
Tarrant turned around so quickly his knees almost disjointed.
Time put a disgusted expression at the sight of the Hatter's face.
"Ugh, and here I though you couldn't be uglier. Out of my way."
If he wasn't such a rude old timer, Tarrant would have hugged him.
"I thought I wouldn't see you again." Said Tarrant, with hiccups of relief altering his speech.
"Please, we didn't see each for what, two hours? You are being a crybaby, just like my Seconds. Speaking of them, where is that pesky oil can? I thought it was with you! I swear, if something happened to it..."
"Fear not, it's on my hat."
"That's not my Second, that's an ugly borogove."
The multicolored fluff ball leapt towards Time, who caught it to protect himself rather than to prevent it to hit the ground. Stranged, he ruffled the feathers until he discovered a layer of metal where skin should be.
"What is this?!"
"Yeah, I think you need to talk about your Second about its love for feathers." Tarrant cleared his throat. "Dead borogove feathers. That graveyard wasn't a pleasant sight, let me tell you. I dared not pluck a single feather off of them. Sadly, the Second seems to lack my respect for the fallen."
The Second ticked oddly, trying to imitate the speech of the borogoves.
Time put it down and gave it a small kick in its behind.
"You are not a fluffly chicken, you are a Second. Behave as such." Scolded Time with little sympathy, making the Second look down in shame.
"I don't think thare are many differences between them." Added Tarrant, tapping his chin with his fingers. "Think about it, they are both cowardly, small, and have the brain the size of a nut. If it wants to be a borogove, then let it be one."
He was unable to continue when he caught sight of a cart behind Time. His body and magnificent attire had hid it well, and Tarrant's fear of Time leaving for good had prevented him from noticing it before.
With curiosity bursting in every nerve of his body, Tarrant went to inspect it. It was large enough to carry two people of his size, and it was built of the same rusted metal of the machine.
"Did you build it?" Asked Tarrant, too surprised to ask anything but the obvious.
"No, it built itself." Time answered, slapping his forehead and rolling his eyes. His ego grew when not even his jest managed to diminish Tarrant's awe, and he began to gesture and explain as if he was giving a presentation for an amazed multitude. "Behold the Kalamazoo, Underland's best pump trolley! Fast as an arrow and light as a feather. Look at it and realize how insignificant you are in its presence."
"It's quite nice, but I woulnd't go that far..."
"I thought of its name myself. It took me only one Second." Time grinned without listening to the Hatter.
"It's a good name, it fits it perfectly." Tarrant granted, clapping.
Time accepted the applause with royal condesendance and bowed, as if he had given the greatest speech in the story of Undelrand.
"It's for the fruit people to use. Now you can stop being their errand boy, Hatter." Said Time with uncommon indifference. "First, I must finish building the rails, of course. It should be fast, it's not as if there are many places one would like to explore in the Outlands..."
"Time." Tarrant said humbly. It was easy to forget Time was more than his conceit revealed at first sight. "Thank you. You have no idea how much it will help them. They won't forget that."
"They will, as everyone always does." Said Time with sudden sourness. "But I do not care about their gratefulness. And I don't want to hear any complaints about why I didn't build it earlier. I very much like to finish one project before I start another."
Time's smile widened as Tarrant seemed to understand the true weight of his words.
Tarrant had to pinch his arm to make sure he wasn't dreaming.
"It's done?" He asked.
"It's done." Time answered.
Tarrant stood next to the machine and touched it slowly and with caution, as if he was dealing with a hungry flame. Time didn't intervene.
The cutting touch of the machine felt as soft as petals on Tarrant's palms.
"I never thought it would be impossible." Tarrant said with a thread of voice. "But now that it's happened, I can't believe it was possible after all."
"Typical of mortals." Time said. "You always chase after dreams you think are out of your reach. You know no better way to spend the time you are given."
"We must seem rather foolish to you."
"It's only natural. I've always been aware of my porpuse and the extent of my power, and act accordingly to them. Mortals are different. You know neither until you have grown and changed, but you only get the motivation to do so if you have some dream to guide you. I do not understand it, but I admire the concept."
"It's not only because of dreams. If we change and grow, it's also because of you."
"Are you reproaching me, Hatter?"
"Did it sound as such?"
"No."
"Then why ask me at all?"
Time said nothing and stood next to Tarrant, his arms folded and with the Second sitting on his shoulder.
They admired the machine in silence for a while, as noon began to overtake the world.
"It needs a name." Time spoke. "And luckily for you, I've already thought of one. We shall name it Axis Y!"
"No." Said Tarrant gently but with determination.
"What do you mean by 'no'?" Inquired Time, but he recovered immediately and came up with multiple other names of varied nature for the machine, but were all rejected by Tarrant. "Then you name it, Hatter-namer-of-all."
"Wonder."
"No, I want you to tell me."
"That's its name." Repeated Tarrant. "Wonder."
Time took of his hat off, leaving his eyes uncovered for the hatter to see the shock in them. The Second stared silentely at its master, and gave him an affectionate bump that brought Time back to his senses.
"Then..." Time said, holding his hat in one hand and patting the Second with he other. "Wonder it is."
Without further warning, Tarrant threw himself at Time and embraced him.
"Let go of me, you loon! I'll summon the Pendulum!" Shrieked Time as he struggled to get Tarrant off.
"I will, but first, we celebrate." Tarrant announced with a hysterical voice, and began to dance and jump around , draggin Time along in his frenzied waltz. "Let us dance. Even though we cannot hear the music, let us dance!"
"You'll regret every second of this, I swear." Warned Time, though the threat sounded as meancening as a the growl of a pup.
"I don't regret a Second of my entire life. Only fools do, and I'm mad, not a fool!"
Their danced ravaged the Outlands' perpetual gloom.
"I'm mad, not a fool."
The grandfather clock's hands ticked the seconds away, as indifferent of Underland's plight as they have always been.
Mirana didn't blame it. It was only a machine, and it didn't know better than to do what it was meant to.
Was it also the case with the entity dwelling inside it? She had never been sure.
For the clock was more than the eye perceived.
It was also the entrance of a castle. It lacked the embrace of the chains that had kept anyone from going in for countless of years.
And above all, kept him from going out.
Surrounded by pitchblack darkness, she created a small white flame with a snap of her fingers.
The light revealed the clock in its true form. At day, it was a remarkable piece of Underland's history, a part of the tradition passed down for generations in the royal bloodline.
At night, it transformed into a mistery that scared away all idle curuiosity of discovering whatever secrets it may hold.
When Mirana touched it, the memories of her childhood fears of the clock reopened, like a bad wound that had failed to scar.
She stepped back, the coldness of the clock still lingering in her fingers. It was the same brisk feeling that had taken over her body in Time's domain, as she dragged her sister away from the deathly rust.
The people of Underland could easily blame Time for that disaster, but it was simply because they ignored the role their beloved Queen had played in the background.
She had taken a great risk, and had put in danger more than her father would have approved. The sole thought of sending someone to get the Chronosphere betrayed the most basic teachings King Oleron had entrusted to his daughters.
But Mirana had to do it.
There had been no other way to save Tarrant's life.
He was her friend, and her savior.
She wasn't proud , but she didn't regret it either. She knew better than no one that a Queen's duty asks for the boldest of actions in desperate situations, even if most of times, the aftermath is hardly better than the previous chaos.
And Underland was living in a fragile peace that would shatter at the gentlest touch. She had promised her people a new age, but now, she feared it would be but the prelude of dark times.
Trying to rule by Iracebeth's side was no harder than facing a Jabberwocky bare-handed.
She had managed to keep the peace, but it was coming apart right in front of her eyes.
She needed his counsel , for he was as dangerous as wise, and knew Iracebeth in many ways the rest didn't. Perhaps he could shed some light in the whole matter and help her set things right.
But asking for his help could bring only more problems in the future. Her father had known this well.
And yet, there she was, with her hands again on the clock's door.
Then it happened. She began to open it.
The hinges creacked, and to Mirana, it sounded like the echo of his ancestor's tradition falling apart like a destroyed castle.
"Your Majesty?" said a squealing voice from outside the room.
The door slammed closed at the departure of Mirana's hand.
"Is everything alright?"
"Yes, Mally. I'll be out in a moment." Said Mirana, stepping back from the clock.
"We couldn't find him in the Snud. His family asks us to look elsewhere, and some of them had offered to join us in our quest." Informed the dormouse.
"The Hightopp clan should think of nothing more than the making of my sister's crown." Stated Mirana. A lot depended on that crown, Mirana knew.
If it went wrong, then Underland might as well have rusted for eternity when it could.
"They want to speak with you at once. Zanik is waiting for you at the throne hall."
Mirana sighed. Tarrant's dissapearance had come in the least convinient of times.
"Please, your Majesty." Pleaded Mally, with the exhaustation of her quest for the Hatter sneaking into her voice. "Only you can set things right."
Mirana felt the burden of the world on her shoulders, and it felt good.
It reminded her of the ocassions she hadn't been crushed by it . Kings and Queens of the past had survived harder trials without asking Time for his help.
And she too had had her generous ration of hardships .
She would survive once again, her entire kingdom would prevail.
With a wave of her hands, she summoned a flock of paper birds that joined together around the clock. She gestured again, and they transformed into chains.
The whole adventure for the Chronosphere had opened new paths for the fate of Underland's relationship with Time, but it had also been a humbling expierence for Mirana.
Her fear of Time was now a fear for the sake of Time. He had to live, even if it doomed him to a confined existence. Now she saw that the wisdom of the ancients was more transcendant than ever before.
Never again would she allow her desperation to cloud her mind to the point of considering Time an ally.
That was her last word.
The white fire extinguished as she exited the room. Mally welcomed her with a nervous shake of her whiskers.
"Well then, shall we meet Mister Hightopp?" Mirana said, with the kind dispossition of her reputation.
"Did something happen?" Mally asked ,not out of thirsty curiosity, but out of concern.
Mirana smiled at the perceptive mouse and kneeled next to her, offering Mally her hand. The dormouse jumped into it and climbed up to her shoulder.
"Don't worry Mally, everything will get back to normal." Mirana promised just as Iracebeth crossed her path, glaring at her sister with flaring eyes. "I'll make sure of that."
"I know you will, and I'll stand by your side." Mally said, looking with bold resentment at the Red Queen, who left a trace of her rage across her path. "My Queen."