Chapter XVIII: Considerations

The sound of stone against steel scraped against the Cheshire Cat's sensitive ears as he evaporated into view at the back of the White Rabbit's house.

Beside the shed that contain his array of practice dummies, Billnor Creole was sharpening the blade of his saber. He glanced up at the cat, and then continued his work with concentration.

"And how did it go?"

"Worked like a charm…I've never seen her so…"

"So…?"

"So…unlike herself."

Bill raised an eyebrow, and then turned away again.

"I have," he said simply.

Chessur nodded and then sighed, gazing at the ground thoughtfully. Bill looked up at him again, standing from his work, running a scaly finger along the edge of his blade.

"What's the matter, kitten?"

Chess glared at the nickname, and then dropped his gaze again.

"The plan. I knew from the beginning, but…the farther I get into it, the more I realize it's not… right…"

Bill blinked slowly, an amused smirk beginning to slide into view across his green lips.

"Do you want to call it off?"

"I can't," said the cat. "Like a clumsy spider, I've caught myself in my own web; there isn't any backing out now…"

He looked up again.

"But I'm considering it anyway."

Bill chuckled.

"Have you considered something else recently?" he pressed, idly sweeping his blade through the air, testing its weight.

Chess looked up questioningly, one ear twitching.

"I've considered several things, Creole…what are you referring to?"

"Oh, just the fact that you may be developing that annoying little thing known as a conscience," Bill said innocently, without looking up.

"A conscience? About what?"

"The girl, of course."

Chess scoffed.

"Oh, please, you're being ridiculous, lizard…"

"I'm not. I'm being experienced. If I may say so, this time you've chosen a fascinating victim. I would not be half surprised if, within the times I know you haven't told me about, you've broken your own first rule and gotten yourself muddled and of two minds about everything."

Chessur hissed.

"If I had any sort of conscience, I wouldn't be doing this."

"Ah, but if you didn't have one, you wouldn't feel that this was wrong, hm?"

The cat blinked, and then sighed.

"I hate it when you are right."

"Most people do. The 'show' is in a week; best be prepared."

"I have a costume set up. She…"

He trailed off. Bill crossed his arms patiently, waiting.

"She came to my door, as I thought she would. I had hoped she'd stop by when I wasn't around. I was working on the costume at the time, and I wanted her to leave, so I tried to get her to go as quickly as possible."

"How?"

"By being as impatient as I could. Not difficult, under the circumstances. I finished and then caught up with her, using my other costume, so to speak. She agreed to come with me in the evening, to see the sunset, just as you had suggested."

Bill's eyes narrowed.

"All very good, but there's something you aren't telling me that sounds like something I want to know. Say it."

Chess squirmed.

"She…she says she still loves me…"

Bill said nothing.

"And?"

"That's it. She didn't say it, but I read it in her eyes: not only does she love me as…well, me…but she loves Russehc as well."

"Referring to yourself as two people is dangerous; we're all mad here, as I know you've said before, but some sorts of insanity are best not revealed."

"That is entirely beside the point, Creole," snarled the cat. "The fact is, I've dug my own grave, and now I must lie in it. She wants me in two ways, and now I don't know what to do about either one."

Bill thought for a moment.

"Propose," he said at last.

Chessur's eyes grew even larger than normal.

"Wh-what?"

"Propose, as either one you think she'd prefer. If she says no, the other one gets her. Either way, you win. Game over."

Chess stared for a moment longer, then his eyes returned to their usual width.

"It'll be the dormouse, then," he said softly.

Bill scowled.

"After all this, you still…?"

"I know she loves me as a cat," Chess snapped. "Or at least…I think she does. She said she does. But I don't think she really means it."

"Mally is not one for lies."

"No, but she is one for confusing herself, and I'm certainly not helping there. What if what she thinks is love is something else? I don't want to hurt her, Creole…physically, mentally, or emotionally. But I've already done all three as a cat. My mask, so to speak, hasn't. Not to her knowledge."

"Pain builds things, just as often as it causes destruction," Bill said wisely. "If she wants you despite the pain…"

"Then she doesn't know what she wants," Chess growled, "and you aren't going to change my mind that way."

Creole glared and then sighed.

"Well, you can't say I didn't try…"