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

The empty passageways and rooms of Wonderland Palace were marvelous places to get lost. The courtiers avoided them out of distaste, the civilians because they were barred, and the rest of the court (ex-Resistance fighters-turned-court spies and miscellaneous others) was far too busy with their work to even bother. Giacomo himself had a full schedule that had him wistfully thinking of days that were longer than twenty-four hours.

Still, even he needed time to himself and do what he did best: think and plan. If he could do so in a place where no one disturbed him, then that was good enough. It was even better when he could thoroughly catalogue the undisturbed portions of the palace. It paid to know where he could smuggle Jack or various other personas if the current situation took a turn for the worst. In his meandering walks, he had already discovered a number of hidden rooms and passages that suited such needs quite nicely. In return he had a quiet space where he could parse every bit of information coming his way and act accordingly.

Giacomo had to admit that when he did not have this time he was prone to acting rashly – though rashly for a Club meant something entirely different than it did to other Wonderlanders or especially other clan members. Rash meant dispatching Elisa to tell Princess Azkadellia and Commander Cain about the prophecy. Still, he could not regret doing so, even if it meant putting himself in a bad situation with Jack.

Jack had, in fact, managed to track him down one of these very corridors.

"Giacomo. May I ask what you are doing here?" The king sighed. "Never mind. You have a reason for everything you do, don't you?"

He paused mid-stroll. It was wishful thinking, but he'd hoped to avoid a confrontation with Jack over the situation with the prophecy. "Jack. It is good to know that your tracking skills are as good as ever." The fact that Jack managed to find him here without even the aid of broken flora or fauna (not that he left trails like that – Caterpillar taught them better) was a testament to his skill.

"Yes, well, we have to talk, don't we?"

"Perhaps we're better off fighting it out," Giacomo suggested, eyeing his posture. Feet apart, weight spread evenly, shoulders loose, hands open.

A quick smile flashed across Jack's face, more feral than friendly. His civilized veneer slipped slightly to reveal the fury within – always a perilous prospect. "You would lose."

"It is possible." They were usually evenly matched. Their technique and strength were on par, so it was a question of what would prevail: cool head or fiery heart. Judging by the events of the last few weeks, Jack would probably win. Giacomo would never admit to that, of course – Clubs were humble enough, but he still had pride.

"Hmmm. Tempting. But perhaps I'll settle for why you told Princess Azkadellia about the prophecy."

"I would have told you my reasons regardless."

"Interesting." Jack began circling him. Giacomo stood his ground but remained vigilant, subtly shifting into the same stance Jack displayed earlier. This did not go unnoticed. Satisfaction and anticipation mingled equally in the king's eyes. "And yet you did not consult with me before dropping such an important piece of information."

"We have consulted, negotiated, and prevaricated and gone nowhere. It was time to give them something in the hopes that they would reciprocate. And they have." Giacomo hesitated, knowing full well that he was about to step over the line. "It's not that they know, is it, Jack? You're relieved that they do."

"Do not presume to put words to my thoughts or feelings, Giacomo." Ice and fire mingled equally in his voice. "You are my advisor. Explain to me how I am supposed to trust you when you do something like this. Has your time with my mother affected you so much?"

He probably deserved that, but the accusation still hurt. Giacomo looked down and said nothing.

"Tell me," Jack persisted. "Did you come to enjoy the game so much?"

He hated the game. Still, his duty and his talent demanded that he play. "No more than you, Jack. I did what I thought was best, under the circumstances-"

"It was not your place to make that decision. Not only that, you also did the cowardly thing by bringing Elisa into it. If you were going to tell Princess Azkadellia and Commander Cain you should have done it yourself."

The accusation made him flinch. Elisa had asked him the same question when he initially approached her for help. "Elisa is a part of this. They were more likely to trust the information if it came from her first. Perhaps it was underhanded, but I stand by it."

"Do you?"

"I do."

"Would you still stand by it if I sentenced you to the Eye Room?"

The mere thought of that room made his throat go dry. In Resistance training he had performed the best in the Eye Room simulation, but performing well did not equate with fearlessness in regards to the experience. Still, Giacomo remained resolute and above all, truthful. "I know who I am. I do not care if all of Wonderland sees me as such."

Jack stopped in his circuit and regarded him closely. Giacomo caught a fleeting glimpse of something akin to envy and resentment before it disappeared into cool indifference. Interesting. So he still could not face it. Jack had never been able to accept full emotional exposure – to himself as well as to everyone else.

Perhaps that was the crux of the matter. Giacomo could do what Jack could not. He could admit to weakness and need. He knew implicitly what was needed as opposed to what was wanted and more importantly, was willing to do what was necessary to satisfy those needs. There was a reason why Giacomo was Jack's right hand. They were fundamentally different in nature even if they worked towards the same goal. Giacomo saw what Jack could not and did what he could not. Even if it meant admitting to weakness.

But then, the stakes were not as high for Giacomo.

Finally, Jack hissed under his breath. Evidently he had come to the same conclusion. "This does not excuse the fact that you made such a move with our allies without consulting me." He leveled him with a gaze so cold that he wondered that he did not shatter into shards of ice. "Do not undermine my authority again, Giacomo. Friend or not, there will be consequences. Do not take my trust so lightly."

With that he was gone as silently as he came. Only when Giacomo was certain he was alone did he allow his shoulders to slump, running a hand over his face in a rare show of tension. It was a few minutes before he could gather his composure and resume his patrol.

Giacomo could not help but continue to feel guilt over the situation, as he had when he approached Elisa in the first place. If only she or Marino were here. There were precious few people in the world he could speak candidly to anymore. His parents died early on in the reign of the Queen of Hearts, killed for their blatant dissention. Other members of the clan were trustworthy, but widespread plans were messy and liable to fall into the wrong hands. Mara-

But that was something best left in the past. Even now, his heart clenched painfully at the mere thought of her name, the grip of emotion so potent and crippling that Jack would have been surprised at its presence within his normally stoic advisor. There would be no more of that, he thought sternly, and wrangled himself with practice.

Perhaps it was best that he had no confidante at the moment. What could he say to them? No matter the outcome he had not only betrayed the trust of his liege, but his best friend. He knew better than most how slow Jack was to trust. Giacomo sighed and continued to walk the empty passageways. He hoped to avoid such a situation in the future. He could not betray Jack again. There was too much at stake.

Beyond that, he and Jack were friends and nearly all the other had left in the world. Something big was coming, prophecy or no, and Wonderland needed them to stand together to face it.

"You're brooding."

Jack did not have to look up to know that Duchess was regarding him carefully. He stirred milk into his tea. "Am I?"

"You know better than to ask that. You're still at odds with Ten over the Princess Azkadellia situation. What's done is done and it's best if you focus on other things."

He stopped stirring for a fraction of a second. Duchess certainly was not privy to those details. No one outside of the Princess Azkadellia, Commander Cain, Jack, Giacomo, and Elisa could know about the prophecy. "You know. How?" His mind raced. He'd been too lenient. She'd overstepped her boundaries and investigated beyond her orders. She was far too dangerous when she had the correct information.

She dabbed at her lips with a napkin. There was nary a smudge or smear in her blood-red lipstick. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Duchess." He leaned forward and caught her wrist. To the casual observer, it was a loving gesture when in reality his grip was just short of bruising. "You know better than to meddle."

Duchess leaned forward as well, covering his hand with her free one. It was an outwardly affectionate response, but she made sure to dig her nails into the tender skin between his fingers. "The Princess Azkadellia told me," she stated flatly, eyes flinty. "She assumed that as your fiancée, I already knew that little tidbit."

A muscle ticked in his jaw. He should have realized. Still, this was an interesting piece of information. "She confided in you?"

"You know she didn't, Jack."

"Yes, you gave the report of her visit to your apartment." His eyes narrowed at her impassive expression. "You did not say that she mentioned the prophecy."

"Tit for tat."

"You did not need to know." He would not apologize for that. He still felt that far too many people were already aware of the prophecy's contents. While his anger was fading, there was still a lingering sense of betrayal over Giacomo's actions. He had always admired his friend's sense of initiative but in this case Giacomo had acted too soon. The current balance was tipped in the Outer Zone's favor, something Jack was entirely uncomfortable with even if it had resulted in something of a promise of help from the princess.

Her nails bit briefly into his skin once more before she withdrew her hand. Jack let her go. "Obviously."

Jack mulled over this new bit of information. If there was a way for Duchess to somehow gain Princess Azkadellia's trust, then that would also move events along. "What are your plans for this afternoon?"

Duchess tilted her head and smiled at him. "I am at your disposal, darling. You know that."

"Good. The Princess Azkadellia has been spending far too much time with her books. I think she would welcome some company and a change in scenery."

"I am an agent, not a princess minder," she reminded Jack, annoyed.

"You duty is to do what I tell you, Duchess. These include soothing our allies as much as our enemies."

By the subtle tension in her shoulders, he knew he'd struck true. Still, she would not be the Duchess if she did not put up a fight and Jack was not disappointed "My skill set does not involve playing counselor in a lover's quarrel."

Of course she had picked up on the friction between the princess and the commander. Jack would have been disappointed if she hadn't. He shrugged. "Women talk about these things, do they not?"

The look Duchess sent him was one of unadulterated disgust. It amused him more than it should. "Yes, because all women do when they gather together is talk about men."

"That is not what I was insinuating," was the mild reply. "I was only saying that in times of personal conflict, women are more likely to talk matters out. In the absence of any other close confidantes, you are the best choice. Need I remind you that we cannot afford additional discord at this moment in time? The situation is delicate enough as it is."

She couldn't argue with that and resumed eating. Jack gloated inwardly. It was reassuring to know that he still had some modicum of control over the events playing out in his city.

Duchess strode into the Great Library later that afternoon, smiling perfunctorily at the Club guards and librarians. "The Princess Azkadellia, please."

Her newest "mission," as it were, was laughable.

Girl talk, Duchess thought resignedly. Her public persona dictated that she gather a large group of acquaintances, many of whom who thought they were quite close to her. That intimacy was an illusion, of course. She had only one confidante such as that, one she had gone to without coercion, one who knew her better than anyone ever had. Unfortunately, her relationship with Jack no longer functioned in that capacity. As a consequence, she was rigidly unfamiliar with the mechanics of such a friendship, especially with another woman. The Queen of Hearts was hardly a good example in this case.

"It is good that you are here for the princess, Your Grace," her guide remarked.

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "The princess has been working very long hours and is quite tired and distressed. We are all concerned."

So Princess Azkadellia had won over the librarians. Duchess was not surprised. She leaned towards the woman and all but oozed sympathy. "As am I. I hope I can persuade her to take some time for herself."

The librarian smiled back, relieved. "It is kind of you to do so, Your Grace." She gestured to a doorway, "The princess has been working in that room. If you require anything, do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you. You have been very helpful."

Princess Azkadellia did look somewhat haggard. The skin beneath her eyes was dark, stark against pale skin that looked considerably chalky. It was all the time indoors, Duchess thought. Stacks of books occupied the top of her desk and the space around it. She looked, for all intents and purposes, like the most dedicated of Club scholars, the ones who were married to their research and rarely ventured beyond the confines of the Great Library.

"Is this how you've been spending your time, Your Highness? How very dull."

Her head jerked upwards at her voice. There was something frenzied and haunted in her gaze, something that made Duchess pause. "Have you been sent to check on me, Your Grace?" Her lips twisted in some semblance of a smile. "Has the situation become so dire that they would send you to me in some semblance of female companionship?"

Duchess really had to stop being so astounded by her insight. Though she was exhausted and strained the princess could see right through the pretense of her presence even now. She fought to keep her lips from twitching. It was so rare to stand on even ground with someone. "Perhaps you can tell me, Your Highness, if you are in need for a check-up or female companionship," she suggested.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because we are similar enough, you and I." Her brow furrowed. She had not meant to say that. It was a simple truth, and the simplest truths were often the most profound.

They both knew what it was to fight for what they had. Furthermore, they knew the cost of maintaining it. They knew struggle and loss and pain. If these could not provide common ground and some understanding, what could?

The princess surveyed her coolly. "And if I fell into your arms weeping?"

"I would prefer if you didn't," she responded automatically. She was uncomfortable enough with her own tears, let alone someone else's.

A ghost of a smile – a real one this time – flittered across Azkadellia's face. "Good. I have done enough of that – weeping, that is. Tell me, how are your equestrian skills?"

That was how Duchess found herself in the royal stables at the base of the city, facing off with Ambassador Raw's horse. "Moonfire has been neglected since Raw's disappearance," Azkadellia remarked, brushing the mare's mane back from her eyes. "She feels his absence quite keenly and will only allow me and Jeb to ride her. Unfortunately, we have little enough time to exercise our own mounts."

Duchess refused to do anything so undignified as shift her weight in discomfort. She instead toyed with a button on the one riding habit she possessed, buried in the back of her wardrobe. It was a beautiful piece, elegantly structured and made from thick burgundy wool. "You're testing me."

"I'm not." Azkadellia patted the Cloudrunner and murmured something that Duchess could only assume was Vedu. "She is."

Moonfire minced forward elegantly, turning her head to catch Duchess' gaze with one liquid brown eye. She had ridden some horses before, but they paled in comparison to the fire and intelligence of the one before her. She was instantly aware that the Cloudrunner was testing her in some fashion, but she could not fathom how. Intelligence or no, a horse was still a horse – or that was what she tried to tell herself. How could a horse make her nervous?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Moonfire stepped even closer. Duchess didn't even need Azkadellia to tell her to stand her ground. Every muscle in her body locked into place. That great head loomed over her and she braced herself for a bite, a swat, anything –

Anything but the sigh that ruffled her hair and the subsequent head-butt against her hand. Duchess found herself scratching Moonfire's head, absolutely bewildered.

"Hmmm." Azkadellia crossed her arms and looked at her contemplatively. "Fascinating."

"What?" Despite herself, she was absolutely enchanted.

"As I said before, she's been sensitive because of Raw's disappearance. His abilities as a Viewer have granted them a unique bond. The fact that she's accepted you means a great deal."

Duchess found herself at a loss for words. She hadn't even met the Ambassador before his kidnapping. "Well…" she began.

"It is no matter. I know you have a busy schedule, but I hope you can spare some time to come and exercise her with me." Azkadellia was back to business so quickly that Duchess was temporarily thrown off-balance. She did not like it at all. "Now, can you vault on her back yourself or will you require assistance?"

Vault in a riding habit? She was crazy. "I may require a mounting block."

The princess shook her head and motioned her forward. "That is not necessary."

What happened next did not bear repeating. Duchess had never felt so ridiculous in her life, flying through the air because Princess Azkadellia of the Outer Zone had all but thrown her into the saddle. The Vedu riding lesson that ensued was equally mortifying. Luckily, she was a quick learner. It was not long before they were trotting through the forest with the Gale Force arrayed around them in a watchful but unobtrusive manner.

"I know several Rider trainees who would be quite envious of your skill, Your Grace," Azkadellia commented. "We're quite thorough when it comes to riding lessons, but it still takes some of them quite some time to adapt to the Vedu style."

"It is somewhat disconcerting," Duchess admitted. "But I can see the advantages." There was freedom in the unencumbered saddle and more of a connection between horse and rider. The horses themselves were unparalleled. Azkadellia's stallion in particular was unlike any she had ever seen, as dignified and magnificent than any king, if not more so.

Azkadellia nodded and launched into an explanation of the development of the Vedu style of riding, which segued into the origin of the Windrunners and Cloudrunners, which further devolved into the habits of Vedu horse breeding and rearing. Duchess let her ramble – not just because she obviously needed to talk about something, even if it was completely unrelated to the root of her distress. No, the topic was genuinely interesting and it was oddly nice to listen to someone talk about something other than political intrigue or who had just been released from the addiction centers. Meanwhile, she kept a watchful eye on their location. This close to the city there were few decidedly deadly creatures around, but it paid to be vigilant.

"But you're not here to listen to me ramble about the Vedu, are you, Your Grace?" Duchess glanced over. Azkadellia's expression was wry. "I'm fairly certain it's not for the pleasure of my company, either. We both know that, given the choice, we would not seek each other out."

There was no reason to dispute this. They were both too good at the game to dissemble too long. "My fiancé believes that you are working too hard. Are the dragon texts truly that difficult to decipher?"

"The texts are quite obscure. I am not entirely sure what I am searching for, but I will know it when I find it." She shrugged delicately. "Until then, I must read. It is a welcome change from the usual routine."

Duchess privately thought it was an excellent way to avoid Commander Cain, but she wasn't going to say that. Never mind Jack's orders – neither he nor she was qualified to make any sort of comment on another couple's relationship. From what she'd seen of Princess Azkadellia and Commander Cain, they were remarkably balanced.

No, this type of conversation was infinitely preferable. She would take inane conversation over the baring of souls without question. She made a noise of agreement.

"May I ask you a question, Your Grace?"

"It depends on the question, Your Highness."

The princess actually had the audacity to roll her eyes. It was slight, but it was there, and Duchess caught it. She did not know whether to be amused or offended. She settled for a mixture of both. "This is not a political question. I am merely curious. I have only ever heard you addressed by your title. Ten assures me that this is customary in Wonderland."

"It is." Names were personal business. Duchess had a sinking feeling that she knew just what Azkadellia was angling for.

"I see. It is just that no one has ever introduced you by your name. Is it rude to ask-?" Azkadellia glanced over at her. "Please do tell me if I am overstepping my bounds. I do not wish to cause any offense."

Duchess was right. She did not like this direction at all. "No offense taken, Your Highness. It is only rude if you are given my name and address me as such without my permission." She hesitated. "My name is…"

Her name was a part of the past. She no longer felt kinship with that name or the person associated with it. That person – that girl – was weak. Emotional. Vulnerable. Limited. Perhaps she'd never existed at all.

The Duchess, on the other hand, had power. The Duchess was smart and always, always one step ahead of everyone else. The Duchess could be whatever she wanted. The identity of the Duchess was safe, one she could bury herself into and thrive on.

"My name is not relevant," she said eventually.

"Oh." Azkadellia was clearly disappointed and Duchess could not help the resentment that flared within her. She had no right to be dissatisfied. She had always owned her name and personality – except that was not right at all, was it? Azkadellia, more than anyone else, could understand an identity crisis.

Duchess looked down at the saddle and bit back a scowl. She did not need a confidante. She did not need understanding. She did not need any of this.

"I see that there are things we both have no wish to discuss." Azkadellia's voice was quiet, contemplative. "I shall not press you on yours if you promise to do the same for me." She paused. "But if…either of us should wish to speak about anything, I believe we should listen."

It was hardly her most eloquent moment, but Duchess knew her meaning.

Azkadellia looked over at her and actually laughed at her expression. "Or not. Now, shall we test your equestrian skills? Race you back to the city!" She turned Freeheart around and the two burst away, causing the entire guard wheel around and chase after her, cursing.

Duchess rolled her own eyes, but followed.

Raw dreamed of flying. This was not flight as experienced through a travel storm. In a travel storm one only had the sensation of hurtling forward at a great speed. The only visual offered was swirling grey winds. In short, it was hardly flying at all.

No, Raw dreamed of the sun, warm against his back and bright in his eyes. He dreamt of clouds, darting around their soft underbelly, stealing into their snowy white interior, and briefly shooting above them so there was no barrier between him and the sky. He dreamed of gentle winds bearing him aloft, of chilling, rain-pierced gales that required skill and daring to navigate. He dreamed of wings and mountains and forests and the sea, of being above everything else. This was beauty and freedom at its very best, just him and the sky.

The disappointment when he woke and realized he was as earthbound as ever was crushing. There were no wings and no sky above, just a light-filled room made of greenish stone. He lay on a low, padded pallet that was far too big for him. His cat sat beside him, idly washing its front paws.

Oh good, you're finally awake. Do me a favor, Viewer. The next time someone tries to keep you alive, try to oblige them by remaining so.

The words popped into his head unbidden, as clear as if they had been spoken aloud. Everything came flooding back at once: his dreams, his ordeals, the cat, and now this unfamiliar place. Raw reared up in a panic-

The cat was on his chest in an instant, pinning him back to the bed. Now, now. You'll undo all of the healer's work. Is that any way to repay her?

That solved one thing. The weight on his chest was entirely real.

Of course I'm real. That great grey tail flicked in annoyance. There is nothing more real. Its grin stretched unnaturally wide and Raw recoiled slightly at the juxtaposition of such a strange expression on a cat's face. Except perhaps my family, but you wouldn't want to meet them. Now, your hosts are coming. I suggest you modify those excellent shields of yours to avoid any psychic discomfort.

Raw had barely absorbed the words, let alone understood them, when the door opened. A man and woman stepped through, dressed in serviceable forest gear. The male was about Azkadellia's age, with golden skin and dark hair, the female closer to Jeb's with dark skin, hair, and eyes. The pair radiated wariness but not hostility, curiosity and anticipation. There was no need to shield from them, so-

A mind brushed against his, brassy and sonorous and louder than any other being he'd ever encountered. Raw yelped, slamming his eyes shut and flinging his shields up. His regular shields did little to dampen the effect so he thickened and layered them until it was muffled, but he wasn't completely closed off from everyone else. He sighed with relief.

Well done, Viewer. Now, open your eyes.

Once he had, Raw really wished he hadn't. In his confusion and hurry to adjust his shields, he'd missed the entry of two new beings, the source of his mental pain. Predator's eyes, bright and sharp and burning, glared out at him from the head of a raptor, set atop the body of a cat twice the size of Moonfire. One of the creatures was covered in tawny feathers, the other with ones as black as jet. Feathered feline tails whipped lazily through the air and their paws were tipped with wickedly curved talons. But most of all, these strange new creatures had wings.

"Do you know me, Viewerrrrrrrr?" Raw started at the approximation of speech from the larger, tawny creature. Its spoken voice was heavy and gruff, but nowhere near as unpleasant as its mind-voice.

"N-no," he squeaked, his own voice hoarse from disuse.

His cat moved off his chest and back to his side. Aset does not mean her name, Viewer. She wishes to know if you know what she is.

Raw glared at the cat. Get out of my head. If it heard, it did not acknowledge it. "Raw not know," he said eventually. He could not even begin to guess, although he would dearly like to know what manner of creature could make the inside of his head feel that way.

"And yourrrrr Queen? She knowsssss nothing of usssss?"

He shook his head. Queen Lavender wouldn't have sent him to Wonderland blindly. If she'd known that there were huge feathered beasts flying around, she would have told him. "What are you?"

"Warriorsssss of the sssssky," the black one proclaimed, eyes glinting fiercely. "Bringerssss of trrrrruth and light."

"The Forrrrrrgotten."

The gryphons, the cat remarked, bored. It washed it paws as the two gryphons hissed at it. Third party of the Great Alliance, Children of the Sun, blah blah blah.

"Brotherrrrr or not, do not inssssssult Re, old frrrrrrriend." The tawny one called Aset did not hesitate to admonish the cat. She returned that unsettling gaze to Raw. "It ssssspeaks trrrrue. We arrrrre grrrrphons, And you, Viewerrrrr, arrrre welcome herrrre. Rrrrrrest now. Therrrre is much to do."

They were gone before he could utter a word, but at least their overwhelming presence was also absent, allowing him to relax his shields. Their words continued to echo in his head. Gryphons. How could they be real? In the O.Z., they were talked of in myths and legends – but then, so were dragons and everyone knew they were real enough, even if no one had ever seen them.

They're terrible at goodbyes, aren't they? They're also not ones to mince their words. Straight to the point, those feathered-

"Aset and Mahes are well aware of their effect on the Ambassador," the human male interrupted, his brow creased with irritation. "They would spare him while he's healing."

"You know me?" He realized it was a silly question the moment he voiced it. Hadn't the gryphons called him "Viewer"?

The female smirked. "The rest of Wonderland may not know of us, but we know of them. That includes events in Wonderland City. It is a pleasure to meet you, Ambassador Raw. I am Kera and this is Callan. We are the human leaders here and your…liaisons."

"Liaisons?" Raw opened his shields to get a better reading of the two humans. The sheer force of emotion was astounding and he knew without a doubt that he was still in Wonderland. But these humans were different from those he'd encountered in Wonderland City, different from even King Jack and the Ten of Clubs. These were Wonderlanders who'd never known the dulling and drugging effects of the teas, whose emotions were given free reign in their intensity. Kera and Callan were vital and dazzling in his sight, full of force and conviction and the deepest loyalty.

The cat let out a happy purr, as if it agreed with the direction of his thoughts.

"Yes, liaisons," Callan confirmed, not noticing Raw's lack of attention. "As Ambassador to Wonderland, it is only fitting if you know the rest of her citizens."

Raw opened his mouth to ask a question but a yawn came out instead. Amusement from Kera and Callan flowed around him, soothing in its familiarity. "We have taken enough of your time today, Ambassador. Encounters with the Sleep of the Forests are not to be trifled with. Rest assured that your questions will be answered in good time." The two of them performed an odd little salute and exited the room as quietly as they entered.

But first, you eat. There was a tray beside his bed, one he had not noticed before. A covered stone bowl held a clear, savory broth, accompanied by soft rolls and a strange, sweet fruit cut into pieces. Raw was also delighted to discover a pot of true tea. This was a variety different from any he'd had in Wonderland City – as rich and dark, but flavored with something soft and floral. Raw suddenly realized that he was ravenous.

Slow down or you will be sick. And give me one of those rolls.

Raw passed one of them over without even thinking. He eyed his companion thoughtfully as he ate. "They introduced themselves. What about you?"

That tail waved back and forth. You're smart, Viewer. You tell me. It washed its paws delicately, then sniffed at the air. Oh, how very interesting. I shall see you later.

It vanished without a word.

Raw put the tray aside. Gryphons, real Wonderlanders, and now a talking, teleporting cat. It was all too overwhelming. He needed more sleep.

Please review!

Apologies for the delay! I know I usually reply to reviews as well, but I wanted to get this up ASAP. I'll respond soon, I promise!

Well, well. Cloudy with a chance of gryphons? I wonder what that's going to happen...