Author's Note: I still haven't found a replacement beta, but I'm posting this anyways. Because I needed to unwind and relax, and nothing says "unwind and relax" to me quite like editing and posting a chapter.

Despite the fact that I'm pleased about this chapter being longer than the past two, this chapter was challenging to write. First off, Jane and Tarrant would not behave themselves. They gave me writers' block for a good two days (I'm fairly certain Tarrant killed Time again), and then they tried to tip my hand too soon. During the rewrite of this chapter, Tarrant went off on a bit of a tangent. He keeps doing that. Please don't ask me why Tarrant is so preoccupied with the notion of dreams and who's dreaming what; I have no idea. I'm chalking it up to just being one of his hang-ups.

When I'd finished with Jane and Tarrant, there then came the problem of the other three POVs in this chapter. I'm actually quite fond of Stayne's scene; I had fun working out his psychology. I ended up humanizing all of the villains that pop up through this trilogy a lot more than I intended to; instead of just being straight bad guys, they all tried to make me like them. Makes writing certain chapters really awkward, because I actually start to regret what I'm doing. And let me tell you what, me sympathizing with my characters is not the way to get a story written.

Dafydd's POV was a last-minute addition. Originally, I was only planning for the Hassasseen to be nameless lackies. I wrote the entirety of Book One and a couple chapters of Book Two on this assumption. And then they surprised me. And made me completely change my plot. I was really annoyed about that at the time, but now… hot damn I love these guys. However, in this chapter they got absolutely out of hand. I only intended to set up the power struggle between Niall and Stayne, and instead you're getting an introduction to pretty much every important Outlandish character that's going to pop up over the rest of the story. There's a lot of exposition and stuff that's not important until Book Two, so I'm sorry for putting it into your head now. But I can't control these characters.

I felt rather like I was playing a game of chess with this chapter; hence the title. It's a pity I'm terrible at chess… This is where everybody's gathering up steam and preparing to spring into action, and I was afraid that this chapter might come off sounding too passive. Also, there's a bit of a time-hop in this chapter. The first scene takes place in the evening, the two Outlands POVs late at night, and the third jumps back several hours to sunset. I'm trusting y'all will have no problem following the narrative. Yay for time warps. Enjoy!

Tea Note: Alice Tea is an actual tea. There's a small chain of tea shops in Manhattan by the name of Alice's. Yep, based off Wonderland. Their house blend is called Alice Tea, and it's made of the very ingredients I mention in this chapter. I adore these tea shops, hence the homage in this chapter.

Outlandish Note: The word tanaiste is Irish Gaelic and means "heir of the chief." No, I'm not changing the word to make it a military title; when I refer to Dafydd as the Nazari's tanaiste, that's because that's what he is. Ceann-fine is a Scots Gaelic word that means "chieftain."

Character Name Note: Palladia comes from the Greek name/title Pallas, which means white [it referred to the goddess of wisdom, Athena]. Dafydd, Ioan, and Niall are all Welsh names.

Original Character Face Claims: Please don't hurt me for casting two of these characters as sparklepires. I didn't really mean for that to happen.

King Kalen is portrayed by Patrick Dempsey.
Princess Lily Palladia is portrayed by Zoey Deschanel.
Dafydd Nazar is portrayed by Kellan Lutz [a la the Twilight series, and blue eyes].
Ioan Nazar is portrayed by Rufus Sewell.
Niall Nazar is portrayed by Jackson Rathbone.

Disclaimer: My name for my fighting force, the Hassasseen, is taken from the term Hashshashin, which was the name for a group of medieval Islamic warriors. It's where our word assassin comes from. The Hashshashin, or Nizari as they called themselves, were a highly skilled band of killers, and that's what I based them off of. And yes, I named the Nazari after the Nizari.

Also, I based my vision of the Black Queen of Marmoreal off of the images of Arwen in Elrond's vision in Return of the King, what with the black clothes and the long veil. No copywrite infringement of LOTR is intended, please don't have Pete Jackson sic Tolkien's ghost on me.

Once it was decided upon that they wouldn't set out until the morning, all that was left to do was to have a grand Tea Party. The March Hare had dashed into his windmill house, appearing a few moments later with plates of scones, sandwiches and cakes in each hand, a tray full of fragrant, steaming teapots on his head. He'd danced around the table madly to Twinkle Twinkle Little Bat, but nothing had spilled as he tossed everything into place. Witzend had curled up on the table beside Jane, contentedly lapping at the saucerful of cream the Hatter had poured for her, while Jane laughed at the antics of the Hare and the Dormouse. They had thrown things, posed riddles, sung songs; the Hatter had even whipped up a bit of sky blue ribbon to tie around Witzend's neck in honor of the festive occasion. When they had all eaten and drunk their fill, they headed inside for the night.

The windmill looked dilapidated and abandoned on the outside, but inside it was surprisingly bright, comfortable, and clean- much like Thackery himself, Jane reflected. There was a logic to his Madness, and an order to his house once you saw past the shield of the insanity. Jane had never before thought that one could feign the degree of one's madness in order to protect oneself from scrutiny, but she had to admit it was a brilliant idea… if that was what Thackery was doing. In Wonderland, it was rather hard to tell who was genuinely mad and who was simply enjoying the benefits of insanity.

Mally had skittered up above the mantelpiece and promptly curled up to sleep in another teacup, while Thackery had disappeared into the kitchen, where loud bangs and clangs and exclamations from the Hare himself could be heard. This left Jane and the Hatter in the sitting room to amuse themselves.

"Shall I show you to the guest room?" the Hatter asked.
"Oh no," Jane shook her head as she cradled her book and the sleeping Witzend to her chest. "I'm sure I shall never get to sleep tonight. Not now that I'm finally in my Wonderland. I've been waiting all my life to get here, you know."
"Your Wonderland?" the Hatter asked curiously, seating himself in an armchair by the fireplace.
"Yes," Jane nodded. "I've spent most of my life Imagining a place exactly like this- well, imagining this place, I suppose. I always knew my Wonderland was real, at least to me, but I never dreamed that Alice's Wonderland might be real, too! It seems now that I've been dreaming of Alice's Wonderland all along, since here I am and here she was-"
"Jane!" the Hatter interrupted.
"Thank you," she croaked. "I'm fine."

Tarrant stared at Jane, bemused. He wasn't at all used to being the one to stop a rant; normally he was the one ranting. Was this how he sounded? And was this how his friends felt around him- mystified and wondering if they'd properly heard even one word in six of what had just been said? Jane had just said that she'd Imagined Underland, hadn't she, even if she called it Wonderland exactly as Alice had always done… Alice… oh, Alice. His Alice had always called it Wonderland, even after she'd returned at last, for good. Some had called it insulting that she would refuse to call Underland by its proper Name, but he had always found it endearing…

"Tarrant?"
He looked up sharply, shaking his head. "I'm fine." Then, recalling her selfsame response from a moment earlier, he smiled. "It appears we hold a trait in common."
"Yes it does," she nodded, smiling. "And I must say, I find it a relief. I always thought I was the only one to ramble like I do. And I do, all the time, and if I'm not ranting in speech then it's in thought. My foster mother tells me I'm quite mad."
"All the best people are," he replied automatically, before sitting bolt upright, his gaze intense as he sought her eyes. "You don't think this a dream, do you?"

Oh, he truly hoped that this wasn't a dream. He didn't want to be just figment of someone else's imagination, a shadow in another dream. Was it possible that two different people could dream him up? Or that, once one person finished with the characters of a dream, those creations became available to another dreamer? Was that what had happened, that Alice had simply tired of him and walked away from this dreamworld? But then, how had everything continued with such continuity? His world and his life had continued on without a break; was that the nature of dreams? Or perhaps… could it be that he was the dreamer? Oh, he didn't like that idea. That would suggest that His Alice had only ever been a figment of his imagination… No. If the choice was between being in Alice's dream or dreaming Alice up, he would much prefer that she was the dreamer, because in that case she was still real, and alive, and well.

"No," Jane said thoughtfully, her sweet voice cutting through Tarrant's thoughts. "Perhaps I should believe it is, that this all just the product of hitting my head or inhaling mercury fumes. But I think this place is real; it's too complex to be a dream. Besides, dreams always end, and I don't want this to ever end."
"Don't you want to return home?" Tarrant asked, tilting his head.
"No," Jane shook her head decidedly. "England was never home; my home was in my own imagination. I… I do wish I had gotten to meet my parents, I suppose, but that seems like a small thing to trade in exchange for staying here. After all, I've never met them, so what does it matter if I never do? No, I'd much rather stay in Wonderland… if I may," she hurriedly added.

He looked at her thoughtfully. Strange; it seemed that Underland knew how to call to those who felt out of place in the Above, and provided a way to give them a new Home.

"If you want to stay, I'm sure the White Queen will allow it," he said after a moment. "She might take you on as a Lady in her court. She does love having handmaidens."
"Perhaps," Jane nodded. "But first, we should focus on finding the Azure Princess."

He leaned back in his chair, gripping the arms tightly as he lost himself in thought. What did Jane think he'd been doing for the last… how many Days had it been? Did she think he had not scoured every inch of Underland, including the barren, forbidding Outlands, hoping against Hope to find his precious Princess? And when it became obvious that she was gone, that the Blue Royal Family was rent apart and scattered, he had returned to the tea table, devastated. He had determined that he would wait at his table until his Princess found her way back home. After all, His Alice had always returned for tea eventually… it was only a matter of time until his Princess did likewise. Should he perhaps refuse to go on this quest with Jane, remain at his table and wait? But then again, Jane was supposedly the one who would find her… And why was that? Why was Jane allowed to find the Azure Princess, when he was the one who so badly wanted her returned? This should be his Quest by rights; why had he been supplanted, his mission given to an Abovegrounder?

"Tarrant," Jane said softly.

He whipped around, drawing in a sharp breath as he was abruptly pulled out of his Madness. Blinking, he looked around, confused; how had he gotten all the way across the room? What had happened to his armchair, and why was there a pile of splinters and ripped fabric— oh. Oh. He sighed, defeated, frustrated with himself and his Madness. He snuck a peek at Jane, checking to be sure she was unharmed. She must have been terrified of him, and yet all he saw was concern in her green eyes.

"I'm fine," he said dully.

Gently, Jane guided him to the couch, before walking into the kitchen. A moment later she returned, a pot of tea and two teacups on a tray. She drew a spindly side table before them and set the tray on it, then poured them both some tea, which he drank gratefully. Alice had once described this tea as being a blend of Indian black, Japanese green, vanilla, and rose. Tarrant had been delighted with the idea of a tea composed of colors… he'd called this Alice Tea ever since.

"You miss her terribly. The Azure Princess," she said quietly- a statement, not a question.
He nodded, staring down into his tea. "Sic' a wee li'l boy," he sighed, his voice slipping into his native Outlandish brogue. "But sic' a grip oan heem! He used tae grab mah Hat reit aff mah heed, gigglin' loch mad all th' while."
"When was she stolen?" Jane asked.
"It's stoaner tae say- Time doesnae pass haur loch it diz Above," the Hatter replied, his dull gray eyes far away in his memories. "But Alice guessed she was around six months auld ur sae, by Above reckonin'."
Jane's eyes widened. "Alice? Alice was there when the Princess was taken?"
"Ay coorse," he nodded. "She an' Ah baith lived wi' th' White Queen at Marmoreal a' th' time."
Jane blinked. "Then why didn't she-"
"She did," the Hatter cut her off before she could finish that Thought. "We baith did. We searched everyhaur fur th' Princess. But we ne'er foond her- Absolem said we ne'er woods. A new Champion woods hae tae fin' 'er an' brin' 'er haem."
"Me," Jane said softly.
"Aye," the Hatter acknowledged.

They sat quietly for a long moment, drinking tea while each was lost in their thoughts. Then, hesitantly as she didn't want to irritate his true Madness any more than she had to, Jane spoke.

"When Absolem told me… what I was here for," she said hesitantly, "he showed me the Oraculum."
"Did he now?" Tarrant asked, looking at her with eyes gone pale green. Not quite his happiest mood, but he was calm again.
Jane nodded. "I had no idea how to go about this sort of thing, so I tried to see if there might be any clues in the future Days."

He looked at her, but said nothing. Poor thing, she couldn't be expected to know how the Oraculum worked. It was dangerous to look into the future; not only was it constantly changing [except for certain fixed points in Time, like the Frabjous Day], but by attempting to force the future you saw you could change it utterly. Or contrariwise, you could meet the very future you'd attempted to avoid.

"It wasn't very helpful," Jane admitted. "I don't think the Oraculum wanted to make it too easy for me. But I did see one thing… a location. I'm almost sure that we'll find the Princess there."

She stood, glancing about the room for what she sought. Hurrying to the writing desk, she grabbed a piece of paper, a quill that looked like a raven feather, and a jar of ink, and began sketching the scene she'd seen on the Oraculum. After a moment, Tarrant stood and joined her, looking over her shoulder and staring at the drawing. It showed a girl- her face turned away, of course- kneeling on black, scorched earth, surrounded by burned ruins. Jane glanced up at the Hatter, her heart clenching in sympathy when she saw the colors vying for dominance in his eyes- angry topaz, sorrowful gray, even the happiest of emerald green.

"Those are the ruins of Hightopp Hill, which was destroyed on the Horunvendush Day by the Jabberwock on the Red Queen's orders," he whispered, his voice choked and twisted with sorrow. "I… I always hoped that someday she might go there."

They stared at each other in silence, so caught in their emotions that neither noticed the soft flutter of wings outside the window, the dark shadow as a Bird took off into the night.

Tarrant felt his heart twisting and knotting itself up as he stared at the sketch of the site of his clan's demise. The last place in any world he wanted to go was Hightopp Hill. But… if his Azure Princess was going to be there… if he was to be reunited with her At Last… then to the Hill he would go, as soon as there was enough light to travel by.

The small, dark four-year-old boy was curled into as small a ball as he could manage, pressed into the shadows of a corner while his drunken, enraged father beat his mother, screaming at her in a mixture of Proper Underlandian and Outlandish. He didn't know why his father was angry, didn't understand what his mother might have done wrong. His eyes were wide with terror and understanding as he watched the first of the many lessons in power and control he was to learn. He who had the power held the control. He who held control was untouchable…

The fourteen-year-old young man stumbled away from his father's burning hut, one hand clamped over the bleeding, gaping cavity that used to hold an eye. He wasn't running; running away implied that he didn't have control. And he had that power, finally; he had wrested it from his father at long last. When his father had gotten drunk and taken a swing at him- at him, since his mother was long dead thanks to his father's brand of affection- he had fought back, refusing to let this man have power over him anymore. And when the fight was over and his father lay dead, he set fire to the hut and left. An eye was a small price to pay for the control he now had over himself, over his life. His fellow trainees in the army camp would wonder how he'd been injured, and he would tell them it was a battle with a monster. They never needed to know what sort of monster he had taken control over…

He'd never really liked the Bloody Big Head, not even when she was a Princess with a normal-sized cranium. But they were both lost souls, terrified of being powerless. They both needed control, and it appeared that together they could control all they saw. So, he agreed to join her in her overthrow of her insipid little sister. She would be the Red Queen of hearts, and he should be her Champion, her Ace, her Knave. And someday, their power would be absolute…

He knew, the moment she backhanded him for allowing Alice to escape Salazen Grum, on the Bandersnatch, with the Vorpal Sword, that he'd made a serious tactical error. How could he have complete control over his world when she held control over him? He couldn't, that's how. It didn't matter that he was the Ace of Hearts, the feared Knave who held control over all of Crims' military forces. It didn't matter, because he was still under her thumb; a pawn, like everyone else. No, he would have to eliminate her in some way; only then would he be free, only then would he have control again…

Ilosovic Stayne shot straight up, his good eye opening and looking around blindly as he panted in terror. A moment's observance found him not in Salazen Grum, but in a small, badly-made tent in the depths of the Outlands. He listened, but instead of hearing the irritating, lisping, grating voice of Iracebeth of Crims, he heard only the soft footsteps and muted voices of his personal guard. They were only memories, he assured himself; the same old nightmares again. Thus reassured, he drew a deep, steadying breath before disentangling himself from the pile of furs that served as a bed. Meager furnishings for a King, but that was soon to change, after all. He was a patient man; he could bide his time.

It had taken years of patient planning to get to this point. After he and the Bloody Big Head had been banished, it had taken him quite a bit of sweet talking to get himself back in the former Queen's good graces. No, of course he hadn't truly meant to kill her… He had merely been trying to dupe the White Queen into thinking he had changed sides, so he could remain in Marmoreal as a spy, and help to facilitate the Red Queen's return… He would never attempt to harm his Queen; after all, he was her Knave and her slave… She had believed him, of course. She'd always been a genius at believing only what she wanted to.

It had been child's play to convince her to wed him; an unusual ceremony, perhaps, but after all she did have Royal Blood, which made a wedding she presided over binding. And after a wedding night he never wanted to think about again, it had been the work of a moment to slit her throat. After all, by wedding and bedding her he became the Red King, and then he had no further use for her. He'd broken their cuffs with a well-aimed axe blow, and then he was free.

He'd spent years prowling the Outlands, finding creatures and people who felt no love for the White Queen and encouraging them to join him. His greatest acquisition had been the loyalty of the Nazari, a nomadic people greatly feared throughout the Outlands. Their fighting force, the Hassasseen, was admittedly rather small. The Nazari was a tribe of a little over 1,000 people, and the Hassasseen numbered only 200, which normally Stayne wouldn't think at all a sufficient number of men for an army. But despite their small number, they were as fine a troupe of soldiers as Stayne had ever seen, and their tanaiste, while young, was a general of unparalleled skill. The Nazari had no great love for the Adamasi, better known as the White Royals; all it had taken Stayne was a promise that they would have vengeance against them, and the Nazari had pledged their support- and better yet, the Hassasseen.

Stayne wasn't exactly sure why the Nazari hated the Adamasi so; something about a blood feud and a long history. He didn't really care. What mattered was that in return for a promise that the Nazari would be given the land of Iplam, the entire clan had pledged fealty to him. When Stayne returned to Underland, the Hassasseen would become his new army, a suit of Hearts stronger than the Cards had ever been. The rest of the clan would be employed as craftsmen, and their labors would bring him a tremendous amount of revenue. He would have their complete allegiance when he became the Scarlet Emporer of Underland; all he needed to do was slit the throat of the Nazari's ceann-fine [which in their language meant chieftain], and they would be his forever.

It had taken a long time to build himself up to this point- years, if his reckoning of Time was correct, but he had a formidable force now. It was Time to take what was his. He'd start small, of course; reclaim Salazen Grum, transform it into his home base. Thanks to his marriage to Iracebeth [short-lived though it had been], he was the legal King of Crims; Underland would allow him to take that throne without a struggle. And then, he would take his revenge. He'd already promised the Nazari the privilege of slitting the throats of the Adamasi. Stayne would stand back and watch Mirana's demise with a smile; he would laugh as she fell, the woman who had dared to claim she held control over him. And when Mirana was dead, Stayne would take his own revenge. He would give the High Queen's Champion the same treatment the High Queen received, slitting her pale throat and watching her red Uplandish blood stain the ground. He would kill the girl who had caused him such trouble and her madman of a Hatter, and then he would control everything.

Thinking through his master plan had helped to chase away all memory of his nightmares. Nodding in satisfaction, Stayne rose from his cot, using a little of his precious store of water to wipe his face free of sweat. Breathing deeply and evenly, he wrapped a warm robe made of cured horse leather around himself in defense against the nighttime chill. Looking as much like a King as was possible in these Fates-forsaken Outlands, he walked out of his tent, breathing the night air deeply.

"My lord?" the Hassasseen's tanaiste questioned, leaving his small fire to approach. "Are you alright?"
"Perfectly well, Dafydd," Stayne nodded, barely sparing the young man a glance. "I merely required some air. Ah. I believe I have messages," he said, scanning the night sky.

Against the dull light of the red moon [it amused Stayne, how the sky was always red here; how appropriate], three small smudges could be seen in the sky, approaching the camp. For the millionth time, Stayne blessed his luck that he had run across the murder of Crows as he and Iracebeth first crossed into the Outlands. Once Underlanders were banished to the Outlands, they couldn't return, but the magical curse that ensured this punishment didn't extend to the birds and beasts. The Crows' loyalty was gained at a dear cost; the number of villages he had to raid to find enough shiny baubles to soothe their insatiable desire to hoard! But as spies in Underland, they were invaluable, so he was content to pay their exhorbitant price.

With a flick of his fingers, Stayne summoned Dafydd to accompany him as he walked back into his tent. Stayne seated himself in his roughly-made chair, arranging himself so that he still looked like a King, while Dafydd took his place standing behind Stayne's right shoulder, his claymore unsheathed. Stayne knew he was in no physical danger from the Crows, but he also knew from experience that Dafydd's sheer size was utterly intimidating, as was his silence. No one would dare lay a toe out of line, not while the Hassasseen's tanaiste was watching.

"Greetings, King Who Would Be," the leader of the Crows cawed, perching himself on a stand on Stayne's desk.
"Slackbeak," Stayne nodded. "You have news?"
"Payment?"
Stayne sighed, curbing his impatience. "Will be forthcoming dependent upon what you have to tell."
The Crow ruffled his feathers indignantly, but began speaking. "Underland has called a new Champion. She only just came hours ago."
"Indeed?" Stayne asked, raising an eyebrow. "For what purpose?"
"To find the Azure Princess," the bird answered. "My brethren tell me that the White Queen seeks to crown her and place her on the throne of Crims, to repair the damage done by the Red Queen."
"I see," Stayne said.

And indeed, he did see. He knew what the White Queen was doing. The idiots she ruled would see it as another of Wise Queen Mirana's decisions to heal and repair Underland, to restore it to its former glory. But Stayne knew better. Mirana was doing exactly what he was- trying to solidify her hold on Underland, to maintain her power and control. Healing the land, after all, could only be done by someone with Royal Blood- and someone Underland had accepted as a ruler. There was precious little Royal Blood in Underland anymore; as a matter of fact, since the banishment of the Red Queen and the disappearance of the Blue Queen, Mirana and her children were the only suitable royals left. True, there was the Black Queen… but she was empty, only a shadow queen with no power. Mirana might be powerful, but she didn't have the power to heal all of Underland by herself. To truly heal Underland, she needed all of Underland's surviving royals; she needed the Blue Royals of Witzend. Together, the Whites and Blues would seize control of Underland… would attempt to control him again. And this, he would not allow. No one would have control of him, never again.

"I was under the impression that the Azure Princess had disappeared as a baby," Stayne said to the Crow. "No one was supposed to know where she was."
"Yes," Slackbeak nodded. "But the Oraculum has revealed that she will be found by this new Champion."
"Who is the Champion? Not Alice, surely?" Stayne asked.
"No," Slackbeak said. "But another from the Above. She means to lead a group to Hightopp Hill- looked like the same rebels of the Resistance days."
"How very interesting," Stayne mused. "The Dormouse and the Hatter?"
"Yes, Highness," the Crow nodded. "And a Cat- not the Cheshire, it seems to be the Above girl's pet."
Stayne smirked. "I shall take great pleasure in running the madman through."
"Payment?" the Crow cawed.
"Yes yes," Stayne said impatiently, leaning over and grabbing the first thing that came to light- a heavy ruby pendant on a golden chain. He draped it around Slackbeak's neck. "There will be far more than that if you and your murder keep me informed of both the girl's movements and the state of things in Marmoreal," he said.
"It will be done, Sire," the Crow nodded before taking off.

Stayne watched the bird fly off before turning around and looking at Dafydd. Though the Outlander remained quiet, his sapphire blue eyes were watchful, and there was expectation in his posture. Stayne smiled, a gesture with no warmth.

"It's time," he stated. "Gather your men. Go into the Mountains, the murder should be there. Go to Hightopp Hill and apprehend the rescuers. The Aboveground girl and the Hatter I want alive and unspoiled. Kill the rest, or capture them to torture at your leisure, whichever you prefer. Bring them to Salazen Grum without being seen. I will take another route and meet with you there."
"Yes, my lord," Dafydd said, inclining his head before taking off.

Stayne watched the Hassasseen walk off as a cruel smile grew on his face. Soon, very soon, Underland would be all his. No one would ever have power over him again.

Dafydd Nazar walked through the Red King's camp quickly, his entire body humming with excitement though he did his best to appear impassive. But he knew he was giving himself away, through the speed of his progress through the camp and the way he kept twirling his claymore around. Sure enough, when he passed his cousin and second-in-command, Ioan rose his eyebrows and called out.

"What has you so keyed up this late at night?" he asked. "Going to spend the night with Afanen, are you?"
Dafydd shot a Look at his irreverent kinsman. "I've told you before, that's over. Very over."
"So you keep saying," Ioan smirked, not at all repentant. "And every time you say it, it's a lie."
"If you have nothing useful to say, put your breath to better use and get some training in," Dafydd shot back, rolling his eyes and moving on.

Dafydd made his way through the camp, reflecting in passing that putting two kings in one camp was never a smart idea. The Nazari paid lip service to the Red King, yes. But in all practical ways, they still followed their ceann-fine. If there ever came a time when Ilosovic Stayne came into conflict with Niall Nazar- and that was really more of a when than an if- there was no question who the Nazari would stand behind.

Dafydd wondered how aware of the Nazari's true loyalties the Red King was. Did Stayne realize that the Nazari were only using him to return to their rightful home in Underland? Or did the king only care about the militaristic service the Hassasseen were providing him? It was likely that only Time would tell.

Shaking his head, Dafydd stepped through the flap of Niall's tent, unsurprised to see candles lit. Sometimes, he had to wonder if the ceann-fine ever slept; he was always so busy with clan disputes and deciding where in the Outlands the tribe would migrate to next.

"Did you leave Briallen all alone?" Dafydd asked in greeting.

Niall glanced up from the papers on his desk, the candlelight playing over his stern features and the sapphire eyes they both shared. When he saw who the intruder on his solitude was, his face softened, and he nodded Dafydd into the chair opposite his desk.

"She's asleep, she won't know the difference," he said.
Dafydd scoffed as he poured them both a cup of wine. "I'm glad I won't be here when she yells at you in the morning."
Niall smiled ruefully before Dafydd's words sunk in. "Wait. Why will you not be here?"
Dafydd leaned back in his chair, trying to contain his excitement. "Stayne is sending my men into Underland."

Niall paused, his eyes rapt as he stared at Dafydd over the rim of his earthenware goblet. Slowly, Niall lowered his cup, leaning forward in his seat.

"What?" he asked.
Dafydd nodded. "He's sending us to retrieve an Aboveground chit. And the Hatter."
Niall frowned, his handsome face twisting into a scowl. "That worthless disgrace to his clan…"
"Is still technically the Laird of Iplam," Dafydd reminded Niall.
He scoffed. "For now. Why does Stayne want them?"
"They're looking for the Azure Princess," Dafydd replied. "Stayne wants 'em stopped."
"So our purposes are in alignment," Niall said thoughtfully. "You don't suppose there's any chance that you might secure Tearmunn while you're there?"
"I don't know," Dafydd said. "We could try, if we were ordered."
"I do order you," Niall said. "Do what you can. You know I don't trust Stayne to leave us in peace once we come to Underland. If he intends to make slaves of us, I want us to be able to hold Tearmunn against him."
"I will," Dafydd promised, nodding. "And I'll send word, when I can."
"Good," Niall said. "I'll be waiting. Go safely."
"As safely as we always do," Dafydd said.
"That's what worries me," Niall said dryly.

Sunset shone over the White Castle of Marmoreal, warming the pristine white marble to a rosy pink in the dying light. The scent of cherry blossoms perfumed the air, and a soft, playful breeze teased the skirts and tresses of Mirana, High Queen of Underland and chatelaine of the palace as she stood on the balcony leading out from her private study. She glanced up to the left, to the turrets where the Queens' banners flew. The White Queen's standard, a pristine white silk banner of a cherry tree crowned with five stars. The Black Queen's ensign, an inky black taffeta background with a sword, a dancing sash wrapped around the blade, both done in silver. The Queen's smile gentled, sadness tinging her lips as she took in the dark standard, as well as the shadowy, veiled figure of the Black Queen herself, walking through the gardens nestled behind the cherry trees, as she did every afternoon.

The Black Queen hadn't always lived in Marmoreal. As a matter of fact, until the disappearance of the Azure Princess, there had been no such figure as the Black Queen. It wasn't until Tarrant and Alice Hightopp failed to find the Azure Princess that the Black Queen had appeared. She had no official powers within Underland, couldn't heal or affect the land; she merely existed within it, kept alive only by Underland's magic. She had no name that anyone but Mirana, Absolem, and the Cheshire Cat knew of, and no one save those three had ever seen the face shrouded behind the Queen's thick black veil, or even heard her voice. The Black Queen was a shadow, a ghost, a living symbol and reminder of everything Underland had lost with the collapse of the Blue Royals.

From the instant the Black Queen had appeared at Marmoreal, she had been kept under Mirana's personal care. Her every need was provided for, and Mirana kept everyone in her Court away from the Queen who wanted only to dwell silently in her sorrow. Mirana could do no more for her sister; only the Azure Princess could heal the Black Queen and banish her utterly.

Mirana's heart ached at the thought of the babe they'd lost. No aunt could have loved a niece more than Mirana had loved the Azure Princess; only the Blue Queen and Sapphire King had loved her more. For long years- eighteen, by Absolem's Aboveground reckoning- Mirana had daily scoured the Oraculum, searching for any sign that the Princess' recovery was at hand.

And finally, after years of waiting, Hope was on the horizon. The appearance of this Aboveground girl had spurred the Oraculum to reveal the future beyond the Blankness [as everyone called the scroll after the last illustration, which simply said Retiuni Day] for the first time since the Princess had been taken. Mirana could clearly see the Retiuni Day, the day the Blue Royal Family would be restored, and she could see a future after that day. The girl from Above had given them their future back, Mirana was certain of it. Now she need only wait for her new Champion to arrive.

She turned as the doors to her chamber opened and an anxious white Rabbit hopped in.

"Yes, Sir McTwisp?" she asked kindly.
"Your Majesty has visitors," the Rabbit said, twitching. "They say they have urgent news."
"Then we had best not keep them waiting," Mirana said, exiting her balcony. "Would you please alert the King, and ask him to meet me in the Audience Hall? Thank you."

She stopped only long enough to place her ivory crown on her head. She didn't normally wear her crown; unlike Iracebeth, she didn't like the heavy weight. Normally, Mirana wore hats- all of which had been crafted by Tarrant, before he left Court. She only wore her crown for occasions of State and for the three hours each day she sat in the Audience Hall, hearing petitions and settling disputes. She had a feeling that this meeting would most definitely warrant the wearing of her crown.

Once she was sure it was secured atop her white tresses, she floated through the castle with all due haste. Through long years of practice, she managed to look calm and unhurried as she rushed to her throne, with only a whisper of sound from her long skirts and slippered feet. She gracefully ascended the dais, smiling as her beloved husband Kalen took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. While he was dressed in white and pearls like Mirana, his hair and beard were inky black, and his eyes a brilliant shade of blue.

"Good even, Wife," he murmured as they seated themselves in their thrones.
"Good even, Husband," Mirana replied with a smile.

She curled her fingers around his, refusing to release Kalen's hand though they were in public. Her Court may be proper and refined, but there was no impropriety in having her hand in her wedded husband's whenever she wanted. And she was the Queen; who would dare to reprimand her?

"Where have you been this day?" she asked him fondly.
"Inspecting the newest members of the army, Sweetling," Kalen said. "And you? Have you been speaking to the trees all day?"
"Only in the morning," Mirana smiled. "I spent the afternoon in my study. I wonder if you might join me there after this interview? There is business we need to attend to, and I should very much like your opinion before any decisions are made."
Kalen smiled. "As always, I am at your service, my Lady."

Mirana turned to give McTwisp permission to let the visitors in, but the doors opened to reveal a young woman with hair as black and eyes as blue as her father's, garbed in a white gown similar to Mirana's. Unlike her willowy, graceful mother's gliding walk, the White Princess moved energetically, never staying still for longer than a moment.

"Announcing Her Royal Highness, Lily Palladia, Crown Princess of Marmoreal," McTwisp said, twitching at the princess' unexpected appearance.
"Mother?" Lily asked, her delicate brows drawing together in a frown as she curtsied to her parents. "You're holding an audience? Now?"
"I believe our visitors come bearing important news," Mirana nodded, motioning for Lily to stand by her side. "Let our visitors in please, Sir McTwisp," she said to her Royal Page.
"Announcing Sir Uilleam Dodo and the Sir Tweedles," McTwisp said, before joining the party that entered into the Hall.

Mirana smiled as the Animals approached. For their heroic efforts to aid Alice leading up to and on the Frabjous Day, Mirana had had them all knighted [Tarrant, in recognition of the vital role he'd played leading the Resistance and protecting Alice, had been made a Lord- Duke of Iplam to be precise, though understandably he never used the title]. In return, in addition to their visits to Marmoreal, they often brought Mirana and Kalen news of Underland's doings.

"Majesties, Your Highness," Uilleam said, stepping forward and executing an elegant bow. "We bear news from the Flower Garden by the Door. This afternoon, a girl from the Above was found there. She came through the fountain."
"Through the fountain?" Kalen asked, frowning. "Odd. I've never heard of the fountain functioning as a Looking Glass before."
Mirana drew a slow breath, trying to conceal her excitement. "From the Above? What is her name?"
"Jane, it is," one of the Tweedles said.
"Contrariwise, she don't believe it so, nohow," the other replied.
Mirana frowned. "She doesn't know her own name?"
"She said she never felt like it fit, Majesty," Nivens broke in, clearly trying to keep the meeting on track.
"I see," Mirana murmured. "Please, continue."
"We brought her to Absolem, hoping the Oraculum might reveal some useful information," Uilleam continued the tale. "He told us that Jane was the Champion destined to return the Azure Princess to Marmoreal."
Lily gasped. "Truly? She'll bring my cousin home?"
A glorious smile broke out upon Mirana's face. "How wonderful," she sighed. "We have our Champion at last."
"Where is she now?" Kalen asked, looking no less relieved than his wife.
"Mallymkun and the girl's Cat, Witzend, took her through the Tulgey Wood to the Hatter," Uilleam replied.
"Witzend?" Mirana asked. "You said she was an Aboveground girl."
"Tha's the thing, she don't at all act as an Above," a Tweedle said.
"She'd been actin' like an Alice might," the other retorted.
"Contrariwise, she ranted on and ons like the Hatter being."

Mirana felt a wild hope rising in her heart. Underland had sent them their Champion. The Princess would be returned to them, and there was much to do. Gracefully, she stood, smiling as Kalen stood with her and everyone silenced.

"It's certain that our Champion will be brought to Marmoreal with all due haste," she said airily. "We must prepare for their arrival. Sir McTwisp, please make certain that Duke Hightopp's chambers and workshop are opened and aired, and see that everyone is assigned rooms. Order a suite arranged for our Champion- close to mine, if that's possible. We'll also want to make certain the kitchens are prepared for Sir Earwicket's arrival, and Lady Knight Mallymkun's hidey-hole is prepared. Finally, Sir Bayard and his family should patrol our borders, should the travelers require extra protection."
"Y-Yes, your Majesty," Nivens twitched, bowing before scampering off to perform his duties.

Mirana smiled as the travelers bowed to her and Kalen and took themselves off.

"This is wonderful news," she sighed happily, squeezing Kalen's hand. "We have our Champion."
"If Tarrant brings her safely," Kalen said.
"I have always trusted Tarrant with my life, Kalen," Mirana gently rebuked him. "He would not fail, not this."
"I know it is not a matter of Trust, Mirana," Kalen told her. "But it has been a very long time since he as acted as a Champion, and even Mally and Thackery cannot be sure of Tarrant's mental state anymore. And with the Black Queen in residence…"
"You fear their Madnesses," Mirana finished for him.
"It is cause for concern, yes," Kalen said.
Mirana sighed, acknowledging the point. "If I know Tarrant, he'll set out before the sun is fully risen, and he will make all haste to Marmoreal."
"But even with Tarrant's formidable fighting skills, Underland is not a safe place to travel," Kalen said.
"You think we should send a few Pawns to guide them," Mirana said.
"I think it would be wise, yes," Kalen nodded.
"May I go as well?" Lily asked hopefully. "I can use a sword as well as any of the Pawns."
"No, dear," Mirana said gently. "You must remain here, and prepare for our Champion and your cousin. She will have great need of a friend like you."

Lily frowned, but her mother's word was law. Reluctantly curtseying to her parents, she walked out of the audience hall, audibly muttering about how she never got any fun.

"In the meantime, my dear, I believe we have business to tend to," Kalen said, offering Mirana his arm. "And we promised Selena, Aurora and Nerissa a picnic beneath the stars."
"Of course," Mirana smiled, taking his arm and gathering her skirts in her free hand. "We mustn't disappoint our princesses."
"No, of course not," Kalen smiled. "Though I fear Draven and Gareth may object."
Mirana laughed. "They're youngling boys, of course they'll object."

Mirana smiled as they walked towards the door. But her smile dimmed when she caught the veil-covered glance of the Black Queen, who was gliding through the white marble hall on her way indoors. The two Queens gazed at each other for a moment, and Mirana's heart twisted at the utterly pain-filled look in her sister's eyes as she gazed at the White couple. Mirana's eyes filled with tears; what right had she to be so happy when that same happiness had been ripped away from her fellow Queen? Fresh determination to bring the Azure Princess to Marmoreal filled Mirana's heart. When the Princess returned home, the Black Queen's sorrow would be healed, and they would all be happy once again.