Author's Note: First off, I really apologize for this, but I've rewritten and re-posted the conversation between the Man and Haigha in chapter 2. There was something about the details that really bothered me. Plus, with the rewrite (if you pay close attention to the woman's name mentioned!) and this chapter, some things should – hopefully – become a little clearer.

Again, thank you for reading and enjoy!

4

Nobody has ever measured, even poets, how much a heart can hold.

- Zelda Fitzgerald

At first, nothing unusual happened, and I thought it was nothing more than a rather cruel prank of Devlyn's to trouble me with talk of how I should be terrified by the absence of my daily dose of serum. Yet, despite that, I was inexplicably anxious to see him again. I wandered the Courtyard listlessly, for once failing to enjoy the comforting warmth of the sun, the aromatic fragrance of the summer blossoms, and the incomparable beauty of what I, in my incredibly limited knowledge of the world, deemed a paradise.

Finally weary of aimlessly wandering the paths, I sank down upon one of the several wrought iron benches that decorated the Courtyard and waited. The sun dipped lower in the sky, and the shadows of the garden lengthened. By the internal schedule I kept courtesy of routine, I realized that my daily appointment was overdue. And as I continued waiting, I suffered from an unfamiliar restlessness that must have been what others called impatience.

At long last, after what seemed an interminable amount of time, a straight-backed orderly with a sour face approached me. Oddly, it left me to question how the orderlies knew precisely where to find me at all times considering my relative freedom within the prison's boundaries.

"The Doctor will see you for your scheduled appointment now," the orderly announced in a nasally voice that, somehow, did not suit her frigid demeanor. "I assume," she continued, "that you are familiar with the way?"

Despite the stressed importance of routine for the prisoners of Aberdeen's Gate, some people were always forgetful and forever required assistance to move from one place to the next, or else they ended up hopelessly lost within the prison's countless corridors and rooms. Suddenly, I wondered whether or not that forgetfulness was due to their treatments, just as my treatment apparently subdued thoughts and emotions.

Pushing aside that speculation, I met the orderly's gaze and nodded. "Yes, I know my way."

Satisfied with my response, the orderly turned on heel and departed quickly, leaving me alone once more. After all, I hardly needed her guidance, and, if I failed to keep my appointment, they would, of course, find me.

Still, for a minute longer, I remained seated. I was not going to see the Doctor, as the orderly had informed me. I was going to see Devlyn. Again, I failed to comprehend my eagerness. Perhaps it was simply a result of his decision to give me his name, which was an unwarranted admission of faith. Doctors did not have names, at least as far as the prisoners – or patients – were concerned. Regardless, I could not guess if that was the reason for my undeniable need to see him again.

Knowing I could not wait any longer in order to further examine these strange thoughts and feelings, I rose from the bench. When I stood, the world seemed to tilt before me. My pulse raced, and I resisted the urge to slump backward into the stability of the wrought iron bench. I closed my eyes and drew in several deep breaths. After the sensation passed, I shook my head and left the Courtyard, following that ever familiar path into the depths of Aberdeen's Gate.

When I reached the white screen, I hesitated as I experienced a strange fluttering in the pit of my stomach. Then, I stepped around the screen and found Devlyn once again sitting in my chair. Without preamble, I said, "Yesterday, I told you that I sit in that chair." I was not exactly reprimanding him, but rather … it almost felt as if I were teasing him, which seemed the most bizarre realization I'd ever had.

Devlyn glanced up at me, raising an eyebrow. "Does it irritate you?"

Irritation … I wondered whether or not I was even aware of how irritation felt. Of course, I thought I understood the definition, but definition differed by far from the actual experience. Still, even based upon definition, I did not believe I was irritated, though perhaps I was bothered at being kept waiting longer than usual for my appointment.

"No," I finally replied. "I am not irritated. But I wonder why I've been kept waiting so long to meet with you. My treatment is scheduled for the same time every day, and I do not recall it ever being postponed."

Devlyn shrugged, and he did not appear even remotely apologetic. "You are no longer being treated," Devlyn pointed out. "Besides, I have other obligations. In fact, I was even asked this morning to consider redesigning the Great Vault." He studied my reaction to that particular statement and said, "You fear the Great Vault."

"No," I whispered, and I thought that was the truth. "I would just rather pretend that it does not exist."

"Pretending it doesn't exist doesn't make it disappear," Devlyn said. I could not explain it, but it sounded as if he were warning me of some horror I'd yet to confront. Naturally, it seemed absurd, and I merely attributed it to the fact that I did not, at the moment, feel like myself.

"And that does not trouble you." It was a statement, not a question.

"Of course it troubles me," Devlyn snapped, surprising me with his vehemence. "This whole damn place troubles me. But I'd rather survive than entertain my conscience. The cost of having morals in Wonderland is too high a price … something I'm learning rather quickly."

"Thinking that way is … cowardly," I replied even as I wondered how and when that particular thought developed. It was not something I would have considered just the other day; I was certain.

I imagined my observation should have angered Devlyn. Instead, I noticed a fleeting smile pull at the corners of his mouth before it disappeared just as quickly. "So you plan to lecture me, then?" Devlyn asked. "You – a prisoner who knows absolutely nothing of the world – plan to enlighten me on the difference between right and wrong, courage and cowardice?" He snorted in disbelief. "Well, call it whatever you will, but I like living. In fact, I've grown quite fond of it, and I'm certainly not about to trade my life for a date with the Queen's headsman … or prison shackles, for that matter. You should start to understand what living actually means once your body purges that serum. Maybe then, you'll appreciate my decision, if not respect it." I thought Devlyn meant to add: "I do not respect it myself," but he did not.

"Yesterday," I began, "you told me that this hell has been tolerable because of the serum, which subdues my ability to think and feel. If living is comprised of actual thought and actual emotion then I should prefer not knowing what it means to live."

Devlyn looked surprised. I was, in fact, surprised by my own assessment. "Your body must be purging the serum far quicker than I assumed possible," he murmured, almost to himself. He cleared his throat. "You make a good observation, by the way – an observation which, ultimately, makes no difference. You are finished with the serum – your treatment – and you will be forced to cope with whatever follows." He paused. "For that, you have my sympathy."

And I genuinely believed Devlyn's admission of empathy, but, all things considered, it mattered little.

Devlyn stood then and approached me. "Do you mind if I check your pulse?" he asked.

I nodded because it was, of course, routine. Yet none of the other Doctors ever asked permission to touch me. He took my hand and turned my palm upward while his fingertips sought my wrist. His hand was cool against my suddenly flushed skin, his touch gentle. Before long, he commented, "Your pulse is faster than previous readings."

"Is that bad?" I asked while his hand lingered on mine.

Seemingly embarrassed suddenly, Devlyn dropped my hand and stepped back. "No, actually," he replied. "The serum slowed the rate of your pulse. Now, it is near normal." He studied me quietly and frowned. "Do you feel faint or ill?" he finally questioned.

I shook my head. "No," I replied. "Why?"

"You are very pale," Devlyn pointed out, and I noted the concern evidenced by his voice.

"I'm fine," I said even as I thought back to the Courtyard when I rose from the bench and the world around me tipped unexpectedly, leaving me both momentarily dizzy and weak.

"All right," Devlyn conceded, though he did not necessarily look convinced. "Take a seat in the chair," he instructed. "I've only a few questions for you, and then we are finished for today."

I took one step toward the chair, and, without warning, everything spun round before my eyes. My vision darkened and my stomach churned. I heard Devlyn call my name, and I was vaguely aware of the fact that he caught me before I collapsed, but I did not recall anything after that.

As Alice continued to stare at the snow almost uncomprehendingly, it suddenly occurred to her that, despite the snow, she was not actually cold. Curious, Alice crouched down and reached out a hand in order to touch the snow. Instead, she only felt the cool tile of the floor. "It's not real," she said in disbelief. "It's just … an illusion."

After a stretch of silence, Hatter replied, "Just a reflection, I think." When Alice stood, he continued, "I'm not pretendin' to know the particulars of the Lookin' Glass. I really don't know how it all works, but it's been known to give off reflections from the world on the other side." He hesitated. "That probably means that whatever's happenin' in Wonderland's a lot worse than we figured."

Alice swallowed. "Yeah, I think I got that part already."

Together, she and Hatter cautiously approached the Looking Glass, though caution seemed rather unnecessary considering that they planned on entering Wonderland, dangerous or not. When she and Hatter stood before the glass, Alice looked over at him.

"Nervous?" he asked.

"A little," Alice admitted. "You?"

"Yeah," Hatter said. But Alice wondered if Hatter's apprehension was due to his concern for Wonderland or his worry that he might not find answers. In truth, Alice attributed much of her own trepidation to the very real possibility that even a return to Wonderland might not yield a cure for Hatter's mysterious affliction.

"Well," Hatter began, "no use waitin' around, right? Starin' at the Glass won't fix things."

True, Alice thought. Still, a thought occurred to her. "Maybe …" Alice's voice trailed off, however, as, without warning, Hatter abruptly walked through the Looking Glass. "Maybe," Alice began to no one in particular, "we should think about grabbing some coats first. But, apparently not," she muttered. Well, perhaps she could at least hope that snow wasn't necessarily the same in Wonderland as it was in her world. Perhaps snow could mysteriously exist in Wonderland without the weather actually being cold.

That seemed unlikely, even for Wonderland. And though Alice desperately wished she'd brought a winter coat – hat and gloves included – she obviously could not take the time to return to her and Hatter's apartment.

Thus, Alice followed Hatter.

Alice hated the fall – the trip between her world and Wonderland. It reminded her so very much of her frequent nightmare, which was courtesy of her acrophobia, the irrational fear of heights that had not been fully cured despite her adventures in Wonderland. In the nightmare, Alice stood precariously upon the edge of a mountain peak and looked down upon the world below. It was, without doubt, the most breathtaking sight she'd ever witnessed, but the beauty was obscured by her fear. Each time she meant to step back from the cliff's edge, she inexplicably stepped forward and therefore plunged forward off of the cliff, falling through nothingness.

When Alice landed on the other side of the Looking Glass, back in Wonderland once more, Hatter offered her his hand, helping Alice to her feet. As Alice grasped Hatter's hand and stood, she realized quite quickly that winter in Wonderland worked just like winter worked in her own world. Despite the fact that the Looking Glass was housed indoors, it was bitterly cold. She shivered against the icy chill that permeated the corridor and now felt more than a little annoyed by Hatter's spontaneity at jumping through the Looking Glass without preamble. Alice glared at him, and, apparently understanding why she was less than thrilled, Hatter said, "We'll find some coats, don't worry."

"Before we freeze to death?" Alice snapped as her teeth chattered.

"It isn't that cold," Hatter returned.

All right, admittedly, Alice never handled the cold very well, and, holidays aside, she rather hated winter all together. Still, it was cold enough to warrant the warmth of a coat and gloves, no matter what Hatter claimed.

Though Alice had little time to contemplate freezing or mourn the absence of her coat. At that moment, a youthful and decidedly unintimidating voice snapped, "It's about time!" Regardless, Alice jumped slightly, startled by the unexpected sound.

She and Hatter both turned as a young girl stepped out of the shadows. The girl had blonde hair, blue eyes, and looked every bit the part of a girl destined to play the traditional role of Alice in a cinematic adaptation of Carroll's classic books.

"I knew you would forget coats," the precocious child announced. "So I brought them for you," she added as she handed long, white overcoats to Alice and Hatter, both of whom were stunned by her sudden appearance. As she handed the coat to a dumbfounded Alice, she said, "You must be Alice, of course. My daddy always told me stories about you. He said that he knew you. My mother – I guess you'd know her as the Duchess – doesn't like that my daddy knew you, but I'm not sure why." She paused, taking a breath. "I'm Lily Heart, by the way. I'm the Princess of Wonderland."

Alice tried to follow the child's rapid speech. "Princess?" she echoed, thoroughly confused. She did not recall there being a young princess upon her last visit through the infamous Looking Glass. And, according to Lily, Alice had known the girl's father. That was stranger still, leaving Alice to wonder just who the child's father could possibly be.

"Yes," Lily replied slowly, looking at Alice as if she thought Alice was daft. "You must remember my daddy, the King of Wonderland." When Alice failed to comprehend by any response of acknowledgement, Lily Heart huffed irritably. "Jack Heart," she snapped.

"Jack?" Alice questioned, still not following. After all, how was that even possible? Lily appeared no older than nine years of age, perhaps ten. And Alice had only left Wonderland a year earlier.

"There's no tellin' how time works in Wonderland compared to your world," Hatter murmured, reminding Alice that, according to the time kept in her world, she'd only been missing for an hour. Meanwhile, in Wonderland, it felt as if days, at least, had passed. "Time's different in Wonderland," Hatter added.

"So how much time – here – has passed since we left?" Alice asked.

Again, Lily studied her as if she were an idiot. Though, Alice reasoned, as a very young child of Wonderland, Lily probably didn't understand much about the Looking Glass or the world on the other side of it. Thus, she likely didn't realize that time flowed differently. "My daddy said that you left about two years before I was born," Lily informed Alice and Hatter. "It's been twelve years since you left."

Alice heard Hatter mutter something undistinguishable beneath his breath. Apparently, even for Hatter, the realization that twelve years had passed since he abandoned his home came as a shock. "A lot can happen in twelve years," he finally said, clearly still sounding baffled.

Obviously, Alice thought dryly. Still, she kept her attention on Lily and asked only one of the many questions to which she and Hatter needed answers. "What happened here?"

"Well …" Lily's voice trailed off. "I'm not exactly sure. But I know it has something to do with Red."

"The Red Queen?" Alice asked, thinking about Lewis Carroll's Through the Looking-Glass. Meanwhile, Hatter simultaneously echoed, "Red?"

"No," Lily replied, addressing Alice. "Just Red, like he said," she added as she nodded toward Hatter. "She came to the Heart Palace two years ago. My mother was very ill, and no one could figure out what was making her sick. Red saved her and stayed at the palace. I never liked her because something seemed … wrong with her. Then, the rain started, and people just stopped caring. They all seemed sad, and that's why I call this the Sadness." Lily hesitated, appearing upset. "Finally," she whispered, "the rain turned to snow, and that's when my daddy became sad. Gryphon told me that's because even he couldn't fight the Sadness forever."

"Who's Gryphon?" Hatter asked while Alice attempted to make sense of everything Lily had just told them.

"Red's assistant," Lily replied matter-of-factly. "Gryphon gave me a bottle of dreams, you know. He told me to use it wisely. He also said that the Sadness hadn't infected me yet, so I could fight Red. I could be like the child Alice of Legend." Alice noted that Lily appeared rather proud of the comparison with the Alice of Legend. Then, after drawing another breath, Lily continued, "At first, I didn't think it worked. But then, I did have a dream, and the dream told me to wait at the Looking Glass for you and Hatter. So, I have been waiting – for a really long time, actually." Lily crossed her arms then, shooting an accusatory glare at both Alice and Hatter. "Now that you are here, I'll be your guide."

Alice raised an eyebrow and exchanged a glance with Hatter. Based on the observations of a child, it was, of course, difficult to assess the true situation in Wonderland. Regardless, the girl was Jack's daughter. Though Alice could, conceivably, doubt the girl's claim, she recognized the undeniable resemblance, not only to Jack but to the Duchess as well. Even centered on that observation, Alice realized there was an inherent risk in trusting this girl. Still, it was more than apparent that she and Hatter were going to desperately need any allies they could find, even if the ally happened to be a ten-year-old girl who claimed to be Jack Heart's daughter without any further proof than her word and her resemblance to her parents. Resemblance, however, could be a debatable factor based on the observer.

"If you're our guide," Hatter finally said as he yanked on the white overcoat and ended Alice's internal debate, "then where do we start?"

"The town of Lutwidge (1)," Lily responded without hesitation.

The name, naturally, meant nothing to Alice, but she noticed Hatter pale considerably at Lily's announcement of their intended destination if they planned on following the girl's guidance.

"Are we lookin' for anyone exactly?" Hatter's voice was strained.

"Yes," Lily returned. "We're looking for Gretna."

The muscle in Hatter's jaw worked, and Alice watched as his hands curled into fists by his sides, leaving Alice to realize that Hatter knew precisely who Gretna was. And, obviously, he wasn't thrilled by the knowledge.

"That's a very bad idea," Hatter managed to say.

"Bad idea or not, it's where we have to go," Lily insisted. "If we want to fix Wonderland, we have to start there."

"No," Hatter said as he tried reasoning with the girl. "Gretna's not goin' to help us, least of all me."

At his response, Lily crossed her arms and lifted her chin as she assumed what Alice surmised was supposed to be a royally condescending posture fit for a future queen. "We will start in Lutwidge, and we will talk to Gretna. The dreams don't lie. They told me to come here. They told me to wait for you. They even told me to bring coats because you would forget yours. And they told me to take both of you to Lutwidge. So that is where we have to go." Lily's gaze moved between Alice and Hatter before she said, "Now, come on. We've wasted too much time already."

Lily turned then, heading directly for the exit and leaving Alice and Hatter alone. Clearly, she simply assumed that they would follow, but Alice hesitated, as did Hatter.

"We don't have to listen to her," Alice suggested quietly. Though, admittedly, whether Alice fully trusted Lily or not was irrelevant. Whatever Lily's ultimate allegiance, Alice was reluctant to leave the young girl alone to fend for herself. Though, perhaps, less than honorable intentions on Lily's part seemed, at this point, unlikely. If it were a trap, why send a mere child to journey to the Looking Glass alone? And, clearly, no one else was with Lily within this vacant building.

Obviously, Hatter shared that sentiment. "We can't just leave her." He paused. "But keep alert, Alice. Things in Wonderland aren't always what they seem."

Alice nodded, but, before they followed Lily, she asked, "Who is Gretna?"

At first, Alice wasn't certain whether or not Hatter would answer. Finally, he replied, "She's my mum."

Author's Notes:

(1) – Lutwidge: Lewis Carroll was a pseudonym used by Charles Lutwidge Dodgson. I took the liberty of using his middle name for the name of the town to which Lily refers.

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