Disclaimer: Alice and Tin Man don't belong to me, they belong to SyFy. The craziness, however, is all me.

Elisa felt the first few tentative drops of water on her nose and squinted up at the sky. The sunlight that had been strong and clear for the entire morning was now amber, shining weakly through clouds that were growing increasingly grey and heavy. She estimated that she had about ten to fifteen minutes before she had to pack up.

She turned back to the profile in front of her. The entire section she'd spent the last two days excavating had already been mapped and all that remained was to record her observations of the layers. She used her trowel to gouge out a clod of dirt, dumping it into the palm of her hand. She rubbed the sample between her fingers to get a better idea of its texture and composition. Notes went into the journal at her side, meticulously labeled and sectioned to cross-reference with the folio of sketches she was rapidly filling.

"Silty loam," Elisa muttered to herself, noting the sample's color from artists' swatches before moving on to the next layer, being careful not to smudge her maps or notes.

The raindrops were fat and cold by the time she finished. Her folio and journal were the first tools to be packed away, carefully tucked into an oiled satchel for safekeeping. The next step was to take care of the trench. Heavy rolls of oiled sackcloth were unrolled and carefully laid against the section before being carefully weighed down with rocks. Elisa repeated this several times until she was sure that it was secure and her profile would not be too damaged by the rain. Artifact bags were sealed and placed into padded and lined wooden crates. Her trowel, brushes, measuring tape, and other tools were tucked into a burlap roll and securely tied with leather straps.

By the time she tugged the hood of her waterproof cloak over her head, the drizzle had become a full-fledged storm. Thunderclouds boiled overhead, heavy with their burden. Thunder rumbled menacingly, heralded by brief flashes of sulfurous yellow light. This was the last of the summer storms. Wonderland would have a brief respite before the dreary freezing rains of winter approached.

Where would Wonderland be by winter? Elisa wondered as she began loading her equipment onto a cart. Would her people finally have a chance to work towards peace and a way to make something of themselves again? Would they still be in their current situation, slowly pulling themselves upwards? Or worse – would Wonderland be at war?

No Chronicler could ever wish for war. She'd never been able to understand those who found peacetime boring – there was always something to learn – but then again, she was a true Club. There are always something new and exciting on the horizon. Still, Elisa had had enough of suffering and machinations. She never wanted to write of death ever again.

Perhaps that was why she had gone along with Giacomo's plan. Someone was propelling Wonderland down a dark path once more and she would do all that she could to prevent it, even if it meant disobeying her king. Even if it meant stepping outside the bounds of the Chronicler and becoming part of the story, rather than simply observing it.

In truth, she had never been terribly good at following the rules. She abided by them simply because she often had no qualm with them, but when she did…well.

Elisa was just hitching her mule to the cart when Charlie came clattering up to her on his horse. The knight looked half-drowned and exhausted in the waning light. "My apologies, milady!" he cried. "I was checking traps in the woods when the storm fell upon me and-" He stopped abruptly, his gaze darting from the packed cart to the meticulously covered trench.

What a dear man. She smiled at him fondly as she climbed into the cart. Charlie reminded her of other members of her clan, the ones what were so absorbed in their interests that they quite forgot how to interact with society as a whole. Charlie was better though, because he was honest and kind and had not a whit of guile about him. "As you can see, I am quite all right, Sir Charles," she called over the rain. "I've had a great deal of practice excavating in such weather. Shall we return?"

His horse fell in beside the cart easily. "Have you found anything of interest today, milady?" he inquired.

"Everything is of interest, Sir Charles. Except, perhaps, pottery," she laughed. Several relatives were ceramic experts and she had never understood their excitement for it. There were few things more horrifying to her than the thought of washing, sorting, and examining piles of the stuff. Issues of production and distribution were deathly boring and she detested chronologies based on ceramic typologies. Still, the information derived from pottery was essential to the big picture, and Elisa was always interested in that. "We certainly have more to wash and catalogue tonight, if you are interested."

"I am at your service." Charlie had proven to be an excellent assistant. He was always careful whilst washing artifacts and he never mixed contexts. Once she'd given him a refresher on penmanship, he was more than happy to write down her observations as she dictated them to him. It made cataloging go much faster than normal.

It also helped that Charlie had such passion for the Diamond City. It was clear in the way that he had declared himself its caretaker. He knew every aspect of the city whether it was covered by the jungle or not, which made him an excellent resource when Elisa compared historic maps of the city to the current ruins. Overall, mapping of the site had certainly gone faster with his help. He knew all there was to know about the city now and wanted to know everything that Elisa could tell him.

That was one of the reasons why Charlie had gone to Wonderland City. As he explained to her, he only recently gained access to a structure whose past identity eluded him. His own investigations revealed an interior filled with strange items that he could not identify. It was all too serendipitous that the Outer Zone envoy had arrived at the Diamond City just as he was preparing to report on its presence to his king and attempt to solve the mystery.

Elisa was beginning to wonder just how serendipitous this all was. Significant events were beginning to coincide, one after another: Ambassador Raw's disappearance, the lingering threat of Quox and Merry Land, the appearance of Princess Azkadellia, the prophecy, and now this.

Cheshire smiles. The ancient proverb rose unbidden in her mind. This type of chaos was precisely the sort of thing that the trickster enjoyed most. What hand was their god playing?

The cart rattled to a stop outside of her quarters, breaking her rather alarming train of thought. The routine was quick and easy: she unloaded all of the equipment whilst Charlie took care of his horse and her mule. They usually finished at about the same time. Depending on the day, one of them would begin super while the other set up the washing stations. After dinner the work began with washing, cataloguing, and discussion.

"I learned something today," she said conversationally, breaking the seal on the first artifact bag.

Charlie perked up immediately, shifting in his seat until he could face her fully. He was one of a rare breed of people that truly listened. When one spoke to him, his attention was fully riveted and he hung on to every word, tossing them over and over in his head until he reached some form of understanding. "My ears are yours, milady."

Elisa stifled a grin. She'd tried to get him to call her by her first name, but Charlie was a stickler for formality. "This building – whatever it is – is old. I've compared the first layer to some of the test trenches we dug when I first arrived on the site, and it seems that it's contemporary with the first phases of the entire city." The trench also showed her that the building had been as extensively used and rebuilt as the palace. "I cannot confirm dates until the first samples are analyzed back in Wonderland City, but it is safe to say that it was one of the first buildings on this site."

He frowned. "But it is not within the First Ring."

"I know." The trenches corroborated the story written in the historical records, which stated that the oldest part of the Diamond City was the innermost ring that contained the palace, the nobles' quarter, and the royal marketplace. The fact that this outlying building was probably of a similar date was intriguing to say the least. "Not only is it outside the First Ring, but it lies just on the Diamond Thoroughfare."

The four main roads leading to the castle were laid out on the cardinal directions, each named for one of the four clans. South and north were the Spade and Diamond Thoroughfares and east and west the Club and Heart Roads, respectively. Buildings on these roads would have been highly significant because of their direct route to the palace. "A first phase building outside of the First Ring, located on the Diamond Thoroughfare and extensively rebuilt," Elisa murmured to herself. The old maps were frustratingly vague and only labeled the building with a strange symbol.

"As I suspected." Charlie smiled brightly and gently rubbed his fingers against potsherds in his basin to remove the dirt. "It had to be important."

"Yes, but why?" Elisa scowled. "I still cannot find any point of reference for the strange furniture there, nor the layout…" As far as she could tell, the building was a series of circular pavilions that spiraled outwards in a steadily increasing pattern. Each new addition was a new pavilion. Elisa assumed they were pavilions because out of all the buildings that remained, this one had almost been entirely swallowed by the forest. Her trench showed no walls, but circular stains in the soil indicating the use of posts in construction. The stains told her that the pavilions were entirely made of wood, which accounted for their lack of preservation in the wet, humid environment of this part of Wonderland. She'd recovered a few samples in her excavations that suggested that the wooden pavilions were brightly painted or lacquered. The use of circles corresponded with the architecture of the city itself, but the materials spoke of another building tradition altogether.

The furniture was an even deeper mystery. Remnants of long, low wooden platforms were found in every pavilion, large enough to hold several humans lying side by side, if their dimensions were to be believed. Of course, anything organic such as fabric would have long rotted away, leaving nothing for her to interpret.

"Milady, I can assure you that we will find the answers," Charlie assured her. "There are no two finer minds on the quest!" He held a metal object up to the light. "Ah, another one of these strange toilet instruments!"

Besides broken pottery, which Elisa believed to be remnants of large open bowls, she'd turned up a number of metal instruments that appeared to be used for grooming. Tarnished silver clippers like the one Charlie held in his hand were found in every pavilion. They were reminiscent of the clippers used to cut one's fingernails, but these were much bigger and could not have possibly been used on humans. In fact, the building probably had little use for humans at all, if their scale was anything to go by.

But if the strange building was not for human use, who used it? She had already located the Diamond City's various stables, not that the clippers could have been used on equines. She was beginning to entertain the idea that the pavilions were some type of absurd public grooming place. Perhaps it was an embassy. The wizards of Ev were rumored to be quite strange, and with their traditions of magic they were likely to have had a long-established presence in Wonderland.

"I kept hunting falcons for my knight master," Charlie mused as he moved on to clean the clipper. Because it was metal – likely steel or iron – they did not wash them but instead cleaned them with special cloths and solution. "We used instruments such as these to trim their feathers, but none so large as these."

"Yes, they mention using similar instruments to groom gryphons in The Temple of Amakek," she remarked absently, then froze.

"Gryphons, milady?" He chuckled. "Yes, my knight master compared them to his falcons all the time, but only in jest. Some of his best friends were gryphons." His gaze was thoughtful as he stared into the fire. "I haven't thought of the gryphons in quite some time."

Elisa pressed her fingertips to her temples, heedless of the water that dripped down her face. "Charlie…Charlie, are you telling me that you remember gryphons?" The last word sat so heavy on her tongue that she almost had to force it out.

"Why, yes," the White Knight said, confused. "Don't you, milady?"

"I'm beginning to think that you're one of a handful who should, but don't, for some reason. As for the rest of us…"

What was happening? Why had she – and the rest of Wonderland – forgotten about the third party of the Great Alliance? Why were they remembering now? Surely, the appearance of The Temple of Amakek on her desk had been no coincidence, and now the pavilions, which were almost certainly linked to the gryphons.

But one question rose above all else: where were the gryphons now?

Az was beginning to realize that magic, in all its forms, was a double-edged sword. She'd thought, rather naively, that once she had access to the dragon texts in the Great Library all the answers would fall into place. She would get her magic under control and make her merry way back home.

Now she knew why there were so few theoretical texts on magic back in the O.Z. Magical theory was horrid. "Creating a kinaesthetic perspective on magic suggests that a truly phenomenological study of it is grounded in the body and mind. It can be explored in how magic impacts on and through the body and is understood through the medium of the relationship of the individual and the world. Magic works first and foremost through the body to influence the embodied mind and cognition is secondary rather than primary. When the question of structure arises, magic loses its fundamental points and is reduced or weakened in relation to the kinaesthetic movements of the sensing and sensed body. What the individual does in relation to the motions of magic, how it is sensed through body, is utterly visceral. Magic is the body and the mind, working through muscles and ligaments, through actions and thought, yet is utterly unconscious. Its meaning is derived from and through the individual, not a cognitive precipitate of mind without body, or body without mind."

She put her head down on the book and tried not to scream out in frustration. Az was smart. She knew that and made no apologies for it. But never before had she been so stymied –and by words. It was baffling. All of the words were ones that she knew and they were strung together in a logical order, yet somehow the concepts were so foreign that it was a wonder that they were written in Standard. The only thing she understood was some vague notion that true, wild magic was bound up in the body and mind and was without structure. The frustrating part was that she knew that already. The book before her was intimating that there was no way of controlling it and that was unacceptable.

The foremost expert on dragons and dragon magic was an elderly Club named Marco. When she'd asked him to give her the definitive text on using magic, he'd blinked at her disapprovingly. "Young lady," he boomed, cowing her in a way that would have made her godmother proud. "I have made the study of dragons and their magic my life's work. I have read almost all there is to know. If there is a definitive text, do you not think that I would have written it myself?"

It was obviously an old wound and Az did not want to press, so she silently accepted the small stack of books that Marco had prepared to supplement her first. At least he had been kind enough to provide a few historical texts to give her some sense of context when it came to the dragons and their magic.

Draconic lore was endlessly fascinating. Historically, the first wave of dragons flew to Nonestica from their ancestral homeland of Aesgarda thousands of years ago. Scholars continually debated the exact dates of the migrations because even hundreds of years ago, dragons were rare. More intriguing was the fact that they did not speak of the migration or the reasons behind it. Because of this, speculation was rampant. Popular theories included the complete destruction of Aesgarda, prompting a mass exodus, colonization, and absurdly enough, trade. Surely there was nothing going back to Aesgarda, especially now that the dragons had all but disappeared. Sometimes there were sightings in the Impassable Mountains, or visits to Ev's City in the Clouds, but those were few and far between.

As for Wonderland, well, no one had heard from the dragons in the Spine since the coup.

But Az was more interested in the magic. According to the histories, dragons were inherently magical and thus, adept sorcerers. Nonestican mythology claimed that the dragons taught the first human sorcerers, speculating that contact with the dragons somehow caused magic to spring up amongst certain humans. It was widely agreed that before the dragons, magic was the sole purview of the gods. The Ancients that sprang from the ground and claimed the O.Z. as their own were the most powerful humans of all, perhaps because of their connections to Lurline and the fae. The Ancients were also tutored by dragons, and shaped magic into what it was today.

All of that information was close, yet not close enough. That was why Az turned to the theoretical texts, supposedly written by dragons themselves. Az was doubtful. If dragons were inherently magical, she imagined that all they needed were lessons and a fair bit of practice – and when you were practically immortal, as all dragons were, there was a lot of time to do just that. Why would they ever feel the need to philosophize on the structure and the whys and hows of it all? But perhaps that was just Az projecting her own feelings onto the species that she was so desperate to know and understand. She had the feeling that the dragon texts were more likely to be the works of human writers (probably Clubs) trying to make sense of something that essentially made no sense.

Lurline save her, she was going to scream.

But Az just took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and dove back in. "Not all magic is, in a restrictive sense, images, mental or otherwise, though the reality of them in the individual's regard is such that the work is done within magic rather than within the self…"

She lost herself in the books, flipping back to the histories as soon as her thoughts grew fuzzy around the edges. Time passed, and it was only the touch of a familiar hand that brought her back.

Jeb smiled down at her. "Working hard?"

Az tilted her head back and blinked at him, wondering if he was really there. "Jeb? What time is it? I'm sorry, but they just…" she waved a hand at the pile in front of her.

"Pulled you in?" he supplied, his expression understanding. "I was waiting outside, but after a few moments I managed to talk the librarian to let me come and get you." Though Jack had indeed granted both Az and Jeb access to the Great Library, he was obsessive about the secrecy of its location. Whenever Az had time, a Scarab picked her up from the palace and ferried her over. The windows of that particular one were shuttered and barred, and she was separated from the cockpit. The Scarab then landed on an obscure dock near the lowest levels of the city, in a place that was utterly unfamiliar to her. There was always a pair of Club librarians waiting to escort her in and out, guiding her through a veritable labyrinth of doors and elevators locked with keys and codes before she arrived at the library proper.

The Great Library as it was now was completely makeshift due to the years of hiding and moving. Books were placed on shelves if possible, but were often placed in strategic piles in specific rooms, based on their content. One of the librarians had been kind enough to show her an old book of plates showing the Library in all its former glory – and glory was the perfect term for it.

Like the rest of the city, the old Great Library was built to go straight up – and up it went, as its collection expanded over the course of hundreds of years. All Az could think as she perused the plates was light. In the old Great Library, there was no such thing as a dark corner. Everything was white, from the tiles to the walls to the curled ironwork of the stairs and rails. Against this background the books popped, as did the varying shades of green that made up the robes of the librarians. A massive circular white marble desk dominated the main floor, where no less than eight librarians worked at a single moment. Three librarians worked each floor, one whose sole job it was to check on scholars and make sure no one was lost amongst the stacks. Glass elevators shot silently from floor to floor for those who could not manage the stairs.

This was the academic heart of Nonestica. And like much of Wonderland, it was lost. Once the Diamond City was in ashes, the Queen of Hearts set her sights on the Great Library. With the Diamonds massacred and the Spades scattered, her only enemy was knowledge. The librarians, however, had been warned, and in a feat still unmatched in its scale, managed to empty the Great Library in three days. The Queen of Hearts, furious at being thwarted, ordered the building burned and its former keepers to be labeled as traitors.

Az admired their dedication. Without them Nonestica would be without one of its greatest treasures.

"Come." Jeb offered her his hand. "It's late and the books will be waiting for you tomorrow."

It was only when she finally stepped foot in her quarters that she realized how tired she was. Her eyes ached from reading pages and pages of cramped script under dim lighting. The muscles of her neck, shoulders, and back were knotted tight from sitting hunched over a desk for hours at a time. And most of all, her head felt as though it was stuffed with wool thanks to the obscure nature of the magical theory. She slumped on her bed, burying her face in her hands.

"Az?" The bed sank beneath Jeb's weight and the warmth of his fingers joined hers over her temples. "Are you all right?"

"I love research." Her voice was muffled. "I do, I really do. But it's all work and no answers and Jeb, if I don't have the answers-" She couldn't bear to finish the sentence. "Then there's the promise I made to Jack Heart and I don't know what he'll ask of me…"

"Hey, shhhh." His presence was all warmth, calm and soothing. "What's done is done. We'll deal with the king's requests when they come. As for the books, you've just started. There's still time. One way or another, you'll find your answers."

His hands drifted down and began rubbing soothing circles onto her shoulders. "You're too tense," he scolded softly, pressing into knots with his fingertips to release them. "Too much sitting and debating and worrying. You need to get out into the fresh air. We'll exercise the horses tomorrow."

"It's different for you," she complained. "You're always out and about, meeting the Shadow Man's agents."

Jeb chuckled, his hands moving lower. "If that's a hint for me to bring you along I'm not taking the bait. You're doing too much already. Trust me, if there's anything important you'll be the first to know."

"I'd better be," Az grumbled. She couldn't help but smile though as Jeb's laughter hummed against her ear. Her head lolled forward and a small moan escaped from her lips as his fingers pressed against a particularly sore spot.

Jeb's fingers tightened reflexively at the sound, digging into the soft silk of her dress. She looked gorgeous now, the glow from the lights throwing out sparks of fire in the darkness of her hair and shimmering like gold against her skin in a way that had nothing to do with the Light and everything to do with her.

Az's eyes fluttered shut as his lips brushed the back of her neck, his fingertips gliding through her hair before settling at her hips. Her own lips parted on a ragged breath as his mouth inched higher, setting off a thousand tiny storms within her. She turned her head and with that silent plea he kissed her, cradling her in his arms as she melted into him.

It had been far too long since they had been together like this and it showed in the way that Jeb's teeth scraped lightly across her lower lip. He smelled of leather and steel and of things wild and untamed. She wanted all of it, wanted all of him, wanted to posses and take-

-Oh yes, he was a sweet one, so young and strong and full of life. She could feel him now, racing towards that edge and building into the most delicious crescendo. All of that life and power was hers to take and she did just that. As his pleasure and power flowed into her, she tossed her head back in a triumphant scream, her body shuddering with release.

Jeb felt Az go rigid and panicked in his arms and immediately let her go, closing his eyes as his body protested the separation.

Az barely noticed and sprang away, the horrible image still burning in her sight. Sometimes, the sorceress had been too greedy and overzealous in her appetite, draining her companions in soul as well as body. "I'm sorry," she gasped out. "But I couldn't-I saw-no, I can't tell you what I saw-"

"Why not?" The question came out harsher than expected, but he was still just a man and a young one at that. Every nerve was still alive and humming and right now there was no way to be graceful about it. Still, he was sorry for the way that she paled and flinched away from his tone and he was immediately on his feet, searching for the right words to say.

Az struggled to hold back her tears as she paced back and forth. That chapter of her life was supposed to be over. She'd fought her demons and won, both in the cave at Finaqua and on that cold and rainy battlefield. She knew who she was and felt safe with the knowledge that her power, no matter how wild and wily, was completely her own. And yet every time she shared an embrace with Jeb that was less than chaste, those old memories came roaring to the forefront, destroying their intimate moments.

It was the most wrenching kind of torture. Az loved Jeb with every fiber of her being and she knew that she would love him and only him as long as she drew breath. She wanted to be with him in every sense of the word – but how could she be with him when the touch of his hands brought back things best left in the dark? How could she be with him when his face was replaced with those of countless others and the witch's thoughts and feelings flowed through her? This was something that she could not control and that was simply unbearable.

She felt robbed. In moments like these it was like the witch had never left, stealing everything that was bright and beautiful and hers.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "But it's…you know what it is, I can't-" The inability to articulate her thoughts left her feeling even more hopeless and now, angry.

"I do know, Az, I do. And we agreed that we would work it out and take it slow-"

"How? It's not working, Jeb!" It was infuriating to realize that no matter how whole she felt, there were still pieces inside of her that were just as jagged and fragile as before. Would she always be this way, so broken and unable to be fixed?

"I don't know!" And that was the problem, wasn't it? He had no frame of reference for a situation like this. All he knew how to do was be patient and gentle and hope for the best, but even he had to admit that this course of action wasn't working. Words weren't his providence – that distinction belonged to Az – because they often became stuck in his throat or sat heavy and clumsy on his tongue. As for his actions, well, the situation spoke for itself. "Az, please, just let me help."

"You can't," she spat, her voice splintering around the words. "Just go!"

The light faded from his eyes. "You got it," he said, cold and remote, unknowingly sounding just like his father had during those first few days out of the suit. He was out of the room in seconds, the sound of the door slamming splitting the silence like a gunshot.

Az stared at the door between their suites and threw herself on her bed, feeling her own heart cracking in two. How long could Jeb stand to wait for someone who could barely stand his touch? Was love enough to keep him here, forever battling with and against her over a foe that existed only in memory?

She could not – would not – answer those questions. Not if she wanted to stay sane.

On the other side of the door, Jeb pressed his forehead to the wood and closed his eyes. The sound of Az's sobs was muffled and it took all of his strength not to go back in there and do what he could to ease the pain. But Az had hurt him by not accepting him and he didn't want to go through that twice in one night.

His feelings hadn't changed, though. He loved her and would cheerfully wait until the world fell down if it meant being with her. There was nothing he wouldn't do to help her feel whole again.

But how could he convince her of that? Jeb hovered there until she was quiet, so close and yet so far, the distance between them as cold and lonely as the Frozen Wastes.

Lucan Spade surveyed the soldiers arrayed before him. They were not the same Spade Army that had served Wonderland in glory for years, but they would do. Once they were in power, they would recoup their numbers and reclaim their legacy.

"Your orders, sir?"

Lucan's eyes glinted in satisfaction. "Find and secure the Diamond City. It is time we showed Jack Heart what kind of power Wonderland deserves."

"Yes, sir!"

As the door closed behind the retreating figures, he glanced over at the man sitting still and silent in the corner. "Is that bold enough?" he demanded.

The Quoxian ambassador tilted his head, though whether it was in acknowledgment or agreement, he did not know.

Please review!

Well! Just as the Turn reveals a new card, some new information is revealed here. I apologize for the very long wait, but I hit the half-point slump in my Ph.D. and that affected pretty much everything else. It has not been a productive few months, but hopefully that's changing! Anyway, the result is a chapter that draws a lot on what I know...a.k.a. archaeology. Hope it wasn't too much for you guys, especially the theory!

Special thanks go to MatsuMama and poptate, as usual. Their encouragements and cajoling keep me going.