Helen Kingsleigh sits out on the lawn and holds a letter in her lap with a sigh. From all the times it's been read and re-read it's become worn and creased. She looks down to read through it again, as though hoping that this time it will bear different news.
Dear Mrs. Kingsleigh,
It is my unfortunate duty to inform you of your daughter's disappearance. Enclosed is the note she left behind, though I doubt it will be of any use in locating her. It is indeed a mystery.
With deepest condolences,
Etc, etc…
Gone…disappeared…no hope. She remembers the last time she saw Alice, seeing her off on her grand voyage across the sea. Filled with confidence that all would be well, she never doubted for a second that she'd be safe. Ever since the failed engagement party, she sensed a change in her youngest daughter. Gone was the sullen, brooding, uncertain child. In her place was a grown young woman, sure of herself and her convictions. Helen folds the letter again, now reading the note that Alice had left:
I've gone to Underland; don't try to find me because you can't. I'll be all right. Hope to see you soon.
Love, Alice
It would certainly be no use in locating her. Even venturing into her late husband's library to look through his old maps, she had no luck finding any such place as Underland.
Just when she's about to go back into the house, a stray movement catches her eye. Something darting into the bushes…a rabbit, probably. They'd be the death of her gardener, although they'd always been spared because they'd pleased Alice so. Without thinking how ridiculous it would sound, she speaks aloud to the small furry creature in the hedge.
"Alice isn't here, little rabbit. And I don't know where she's gone."
Then, to her utter shock and amazement, it spoke back.
"I know."
She stares at him silently. The absurdity of speaking to an animal now paled in comparison to the rabbit actually speaking to her. "What did you say?"
Now he hops out of the bushes, brushing leaves and twigs from his velvet waistcoat and clears his throat importantly. "I said, madam, 'I know.' Meaning I know that Alice no longer lives here, and that I do know where she's gone to."
"I'm dreaming…" she murmurs, fanning herself with the letters.
The White Rabbit heaves a sigh and flicks his ears back. "Alice used to think so, too. You people…"
By now, Helen no longer cares how far-fetched this situation has turned out to be. All that matters is that this creature appears to have seen her lost daughter. "You know her? You've seen my daughter? Where is she?"
The Rabbit now begins to look worried, nervously taking out his pocket watch and checking the time. "Oh, now this is unexpected. She'd assured me you knew. You didn't get her message, then?"
"Yes, I did, but what's this nonsense of her going to 'Underland'? There's no such place on any map."
"Well, of course it isn't on a map, Human. But, it's true, she's there. I promise you she is very well-kept at that. Alice is betrothed to Tarrant Hightop, Hatter to the Queen."
Helen now kneels down on the grass, eye-level with the talking rabbit. "But…but…"
He illuminates further, hoping to set the woman's mind at ease. "Why, she is our Champion! It was she who slew the Jabberwocky and restored the crown to the rightful keeper! Surely, she told you of this?" He wriggles his pink nose hopefully.
Still too baffled to take all of this in, she says, "Not a word."
"Ah. Well, she probably didn't expect you to believe her. Would you?"
"Of course not, she was barely gone half an hour before she came back, all tangled and covered in dirt." Then she takes into account once more that she's carrying on a conversation with a rabbit. Suddenly things are seeming more believable now. She looks up and around, dreading what anyone would think should they see her like this. "Can…you take me to her?"
"Certainly! Follow me. That's what she did." He takes off a little way ahead of her, she can still hear him muttering to himself, "Never would have guessed. Not like Alice at all…I ought not to get too far off, yes. Perhaps…a bit more gently for this one…" He stops at a hollow tree, looks up to make sure Mrs. Kingsleigh is right behind him. "Follow me, keep close. And don't be frightened, now." He tells her, and with that, he dives into the hole. At the last second, he'd grabbed onto the hem of her skirt, sufficiently dragging her in with him.
For the first few minutes, she screams wildly, thrashing around in a freefall. Beside her is the Rabbit, who seems to be taking it all in stride. He lounges in midair, looking thoroughly unconcerned. "For goodness sake, woman, do stop this behavior. It isn't dignified at all.
Down, down they tumble down the hole, filled with lamps and bits of furniture which Helen can't help but knock into now and then.
"Careful!" the Rabbit chides, after a shower of spilled books tumble after them.
When they reach the bottom, the Rabbit lands lightly on four paws, while Helen lands sprawled out ungracefully on her face.
"Now, I hadn't anticipated taking anyone else down with me, so we'll spare the formalities, you know. Or…you don't know. Humph." He huffs, liking this arrangement less and less. "The key is on the table, take care you don't drop it or forget it like Alice did. Twice!"
His companion takes the tiny key between her fingers, "But which door?"
"Ah-ah! First you must take the pishsalver."
"The…what?"
"The bottle, my dear woman, the bottle! How else are you supposed to fit? Dear, dear…no sense at all, these humans. And don't forget the key!"
"Well, why don't you hold onto it if it bothers you so much?" Helen has stopped worrying about how absurd the day has been so far, and has accepted that it's likely to get stranger still. Already, the talking rabbit seemed perfectly normal, although she was beginning to dislike his bossy tone. She hands him the key and picks up the bottle. "Drink Me," she reads aloud. After smelling it, she takes a small sip. Soon, it appears the floor is coming up to meet her, with a sharp gasp she realizes she's shrinking, her clothes soon billow around her. When she stops, she and the Rabbit stand eye-to-eye, or at least until he stands back up on his hind legs. She clutches at her slips in attempt to cover herself. Once she's made the necessary adjustments, she and her guide go through the door together.
Expecting to find more tunnels, Helen is surprised when they step into broad daylight. Flowers as tall as the tallest trees bloom all around them, attracting dragon-flies, rocking-horse flies, and the like. Paying no heed to his companion, who is staring in open-mouthed amazement at her surroundings, the White Rabbit plunges on ahead, stopping only to look over his shoulder and give her a rather hard look.
"Yes, yes, it's all very nice, but I thought you wanted to find Alice."
"Yes…of course..." she sighs dreamily. "Is this Underland?"
"All that lies between the Door and the Outlands is the realm of Underland," he gestures grandly into the distance. "I don't wish to be impertinent, madam, but why do you women of the Overlands insist on dressing that way?"
Tugging at a few stray ribbons into a more secure bow, she replies, "In case we shrink and need something smaller to wear." Her voice drips with sarcasm. This ludicrously impossible creature should be simply leading her to Alice, not offering commentary on the way she dresses. She thinks wistfully of her daughter, hoping that they'll find her soon and end this wretched sojourn. There seems no form or function to anything here. It's like looking into a vastly distorted version of the world she knows. A troop of green hedgehogs trample past, grunting amongst themselves, followed by a swooping flock of bread-and-butterflies. She rolls her eyes at them. "Everything is what it isn't, isn't it?"
"Glad to see you're catching on at last. I was beginning to wonder," the Rabbit sniffs haughtily, hopping on ahead with determined purpose. He leads her straight on through Tulgey Wood, eternally shrouded in twilight, although the rest of the land is in the full midday sun. This causes her to wonder how exactly the sun shines down here. They had fallen a great deal underground, miles and miles by the feel of it, but…Helen stops trying to make sense of it and plunges on ahead. As they venture further in, she stops in her tracks, feeling the unmistakable sensation of eyes on her.
"Mr. Rabbit?" she calls. As great as her annoyance with the talking cottontail, his company would be much preferred to something with more nefarious intentions.
"This way! Come along now, don't dawdle."
She hurries on after him, looking all around her now, for the source of the creeping feeling.
Suddenly a velvety voice purrs from the treetops, "Now, who is your new friend, McTwisp?"
Helen whips around and faces a pair of large, luminous green eyes. From the eyes, her gaze is drawn to the formidable-looking toothy grin of the Cheshire cat.
"Ches, this is Alice's mother. She came to see what happened to her daughter."
"Her message didn't suffice, I take it?" he purrs, sounding offhand and bored. He vanishes in a wisp of blue smoke, reforming over Helen's shoulder. "I do see a resemblance. You'll find her at Witzend with the Hatter, they've been positively smitten with each other since she returned." He floats lazily overhead, the Rabbit follows after him, and Helen Kingsleigh resigns herself to following along. They've gone a few yards when she hears the clattering of dishes and the sound of shared laughter ahead. As they leave the forest and are once again in the sunlight, Helen beholds a long table, laid as though for a vast tea party. The only inhabitants are a strangely dressed man with wild red hair, and a merry young woman in a matching blue dress and hat.
"Have you any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?" he poses to her.
She titters softly, sipping her tea. With a wide grin she announces, "They both have bills on them, inky quills, and produce rather flat notes." The look of astonishment on Tarrant's face makes Alice laugh again, falling back against her seat, her own hat slightly askew. She then sees her friends the White Rabbit and Chessur escorting a very small someone towards them.
The Rabbit wisely judges that this would be a good time to leave. He certainly doesn't want to witness any of what's sure to follow. He scurries off without another word. Chessur floats easily to a chair and contents himself in leering over at the tiny frightened human. He's certainly not going to miss what's sure to follow! "Who've you brought, Ches? You're late for tea."
Helen stares up into her daughter's face. "Alice!"
"You can't be Alice, I'm Alice," she dismisses. Looking down at her place setting, she mutters, "I need a clean cup."
"Yes, yes, precisely. Move down, my dear. Let's see who's come."
Alice puts down her hand and her mother uncertainly steps on. When they're eye-level with each other, Alice gasps, followed by more giggles. "Mother! How in the world did you find me here? Oh! This is Tarrant, my fiancé."
Helen looks between the pair of them, bewildered. This is not a man she could allow her daughter to marry. He barely even looks human! "Alice, dear…"
"How long have I been away?" Alice asks, interrupting her mother.
Flinching from the abrupt change of subject, Helen collects her wits enough to remember. "You were reported missing on the 14th, that was three days ago."
"Only three days? It seems longer." She returns to the table and lowers her hand to let her mother off. Malyumkin peeks out of a teapot and gives Helen a surveying look, before ducking back down again with a soft clatter.
The Hatter pipes up, "But you see, remember time here runs faster than it does up there. It's been nearly a month. Time flies when you're having fun, you know."
"I know, I saw him yesterday. He flies quite well," Alice answers, cozying up with him again.
"And who are you, exactly, if I may ask?" Helen directs this question at her daughter's strange suitor. She looks as severe as a 3-inch high person can. Tarrant, too, can see the resemblance between his beloved and her mother. He's seen that look before, and knows that one who wears it isn't one to be trifled with.
"Tarrant Hightop, my dear lady, Hatter to the White Queen. I promised Alice that I would do anything in my power to ensure her safety and happiness. I must say, it is an honor to meet with you," he introduces himself as politely as he knows how. He may be half-mad but he's spent enough time at court to pick up some manners. He correctly reads her uncertain expression, she obviously has qualms about whether he and Alice were a proper match for each other. "I know. You're imagining what our children would look like."
Helen gives a short cry of protest, this was simply not discussed in polite circles. "And you…feel yourself able to provide for my daughter?"
"To the slightest detail," he assures her jauntily.
"And she has given her consent?"
"Wholeheartedly," Alice replies, setting a minute teacup and saucer before her mother and pouring her a few drops. Although she says nothing more, Helen can see the way her daughter looks at this outlandish man…it reminds her of the way she used to gaze at Charles when they were courting. She shakes herself out of this line of thought and waits for Alice to remember that she's there. She takes a moment to marvel that they would have such tiny place settings, although given the nature of this topsy-turvy world, it wouldn't be entirely unthinkable that people and creatures are given to shrink and grow quite regularly. She takes a seat on an overturned saucer and crosses her legs primly.
"Oh, sorry, Mother. You take sugar, don't you?" Alice is treating her arrival as though she were utterly expected, breaking a corner off a sugar cube and expertly plunking it into her cup.
Out of politeness, Helen sips her tea, hoping to inject some sense into the situation. "Alice," she begins again, this time raising her voice to be heard clearly. "You can't be serious about all this."
Unconcerned, Alice dips her shortbread into her teacup and nibbles. "Serious about what?"
"About running away to this…place!" There just aren't words in her vocabulary to properly describe her daughter's new home. "Just look around you, it's madness! If you stay down here you'll end up…"
Alice pointedly takes her betrothed's hand. "Yes?" she challenges her to finish her sentence.
Adamant that she will not lose her temper, her mother releases a sigh. Now she addresses the Hatter once more. "And as for you-"
Now Alice brings her hand down onto the table with a bang, causing dishes to jump and her mother to be thrown off her seat. "You just met him, Mother! How can you disapprove? You wanted me to marry a complete and utter boor simply for convenience sake! By 'running away' I saved myself, and Hamish as well, years of irremediable unhappiness! I'll be all right, I promise. I didn't want you to know right away, I thought you'd take it like this."
"And how else would I? First I was sent a letter from Lord Ascot, telling me of your disappearance, as well as what I now know to be your way of announcing your elopement. Then I followed a talking rabbit down a ghastly hole, into this…this…"
"Underland. It's called Underland," Tarrant insinuates, thinking that he ought to get a word in.
"Underland," Helen growls, still unable to come up with a proper epithet for this loathsome dream-world. "And find you here, not a care in the world, gone for nearly a month by your calendar, engaged to marry a total stranger who I hope to God is colorblind." She instantly regrets this last barb when she sees the accused's reaction to it. Tarrant's eyes glow orange, for a moment he looks positively dangerous, but a second later he is brought to heel by Alice's touch and soft glance.
"My…eyesight...I'll have you know, is impeccable, madam," he says, still offended by her implications.
"He makes beautiful things, Mother," Alice puts in, helpfully soothing Tarrant's bruised ego. She takes off her hat and sets it on the table. "Just look at what he made me."
Indeed, Helen cannot deny the craftsmanship of his gift to her daughter. In a way she understands it was an engagement gift. A perfect token of affection from a hat-maker, she allows. For once, her pixie-like height lends itself to her advantage: she can see every small detail, right down to a silver monogram stitched into the band. Suddenly her anger and frustration are gone, replaced by the soft sad pangs she'd felt when Margaret was married. Whatever else this lunatic hat-maker might be, it's clear he is somehow just right for Alice. It's true that had she married Hamish, they both would have suffered enormously. Seeing her daughter so happy and alive makes the whole strange trip worth it somehow. She's just about to tell them so, when she receives a sharp prick in her back.
"Ow!" she cries out, turning around, torn from her deep thoughts.
Looking her squarely in the face is a creature nearly the same size as herself. A Dormouse who is wielding a hat pin like a sword. "Now see 'ere, if you think you can just drop out of the sky or wherever it is you came from, and start giving orders and calling names, you'll have me to deal with!" Brandishing her weapon again, Malyumkin looks fearlessly into her perceived enemy's eyes.
"Mally," Tarrant chides, plucking the pin from her paws. "No bloodshed at teatime."
She rounds back on Helen, giving her a glare that lets her know she's lucky. The Hatter gently shoos her away and she climbs back into a teapot to sulk. They can hear her muttered insults echoing hollowly until the lid is clapped down.
It's then that Mrs. Kingsleigh feels very tired. She sits back on the saucer and fans herself weakly. It's all been far too busy of a day. Alice sees her signs of fatigue even from her height and is sympathetic. "I wanted it to go better than this," Alice says, holding out her hand and gently nudging her mother into it. "I'm sorry. I only hope that someday…you can accept us. Because I'm staying, and there's nothing you can say or do to change my mind."
"Where will you have the wedding? Here? I'd so hoped to see you married."
Tarrant is quicker on the uptake, finding the full meaning of what she'd just said. "You'll have had more trips back and forth than…anyone," he says to his fiancée. "She isn't going to do anything to stop it, pet. What do you say?"
Still, Alice remains hesitant. "You really want us…up there? Everyone will see," she reminds her mother with a hint of warning. She already felt more a part of this world than she ever did in the Overlands, as she's even found herself referring to her old home. Yes, the groom would be unlike anyone that her friends and family had ever seen, but she would be different, too. "All right," she finally agrees.
"A wedding! I love weddings," Tarrant exclaims happily. "Drinks all around." And he freshens everybody's cup. "How do you do weddings in the Overlands?"
"Well," Alice tells him, "There'll be a formal ceremony first, hopefully that won't take too long."
"You'll wear your armor?"
Helen nearly chokes on her tea, "Armor?"
"Oh, didn't she tell you? She's our Champion! She slew the Jabberwocky on the Frabjuous Day!"
"You were marvelous against the Knave," Alice reminds him, purring into his ear.
"Please, no armor," her mother requests, realizing that had been something she never thought she'd say. Alice? A champion? Slaying…whatever-it's-called?
"What should I wear?" the Hatter asks, looking nervous about going about in another world. He suddenly appreciates how easy Alice always made it look.
"You look perfect," she assures him. "Whatever you wear will be fine."
"Can she at least bear the Vorpal Sword? It's a formal presentation, after all. Propriety."
Seeing her daughter brighten at the mention of her blade, Helen tries to come up with a good reason not to. "Well…I suppose. As long as nobody gets hurt." She takes a breath to speak at greater length, but Alice stops her.
"No. No corset, no stockings. I want to be comfortable, not tied up in those awful things. Besides, I can't futterwacken in a corset!"
"F-futter…?" Helen splutters, more and more dumbfounded at her daughter's vocabulary.
"You'll see."