Disclaimer:

Yoooou waaaant meee toooo cha-aange,

But I still must DISCLAIM!11! DISCLAIM!

Woa-woah, DISCLAIM! DISCLAIM!

...

That one was pretty lame.

CHAPTER SEVEN – INTO THE WOODS

Mallymkun couldn't remember the last time she had travelled by hat. The hat swayed with every step the Hatter took, and the strangely comforting rhythm was beginning to lull her to drowsiness. Of course, Edith wouldn't have that.

'What's Marmoreal? Why are we going there? How long 'til we get there?'

She pushed at the sleepy Mally, poking her in the arm.

'Dormouse!' she barked in her ear.

Mally groaned and pushed her off, sitting up.

'Marmoreal is where the White Queen's castle stands,' she said, rubbing her eyes, 'you know who the White Queen is, don't you?'

The Edith's awed expression told her that she did.

'It'll take a good Day or two to reach it on foot. And I expect we're going there to get advice from the White Queen –'

'We're going for the Stone,' the Hatter cut in, his voice rumbling up from beneath the brim.

'The Stone?' said Mally, her ears pricking up, 'What stone?'

'The Stone set into the hilt of the Vorpal Sword.' Mally could almost see in her mind's eye his expression, his gaze fixed intensely on his own thoughts.

'And how is that going to help us?' said Mally sceptically.

'It remembers every Bearer of the Sword. It links to every Bearer.'

'So it can show us where Aunt Alice is?' Edith piped up.

The hat jolted slightly as the Hatter gave a compulsive twitch of the head, as if brushing away an insect.

'Yes,' he replied.

Silence fell over them once more.

As the day slowly dimmed around them and the trees thinned out to let patches of afternoon glow filter down through the deep, dark canopy above them and onto the pathless ground, Mally looked to her left to see that Edith had fallen asleep.

Now that she was quite still and her face wasn't contorted into a mask of vengeance, Mally took the opportunity to search it for any resemblance to the much-loved Alice of Legend. But she found none, not a single hint in the permanently down-turned mouth and dark brows. She snorted to herself, remembering the Hatter's claim of resemblance "underneath".

Whatever resemblance or lack thereof she bore to a certain blonde woman, one thing Mally could tell just by looking at her was that she was that she had been travelling for some time and it hadn't been smooth; that much was obvious from the weeks-worth of coated grime and hopelessly tangled hair. There was a deep cut on one of the girl's upturned palms, which looked like it had barely healed over before being ripped open again; there was also a pinched, starved look about her, as though she hadn't been eating properly. If it weren't for the seriousness etched onto her face she would have looked almost pitiful.

Night fell and the Hatter finally stopped, sitting down slowly and carefully in a patch of lush grass between four towering olken trees, removing his hat and letting Mally scurry off it.

'Edith. Edith, wake up.'

The girl woke, blinking sleepily at Mally.

'Are we there yet?'

'No. We're resting for the night. Now come and help us get some firewood,' she said, beckoning to the girl as she climbed unsteadily to her feet, rocking from spending most of the day aboard a swaying hat.

The Hatter was already occupied with gathering larger pieces of sturdy bark and piling them in the centre of the tiny clearing, murmuring nonsensical words to himself.

Mally saw Edith watching him with wary, uncertain eyes.

'What's wrong now?' she grunted, heaving a small, fallen branch out of the edges of the trees.

'I expected him to be handsome, I suppose,' came the reply from behind her.

Mally dropped the branch and turned to see the girl plonked on the ground, fiddling with her – Alice's – dress and her brow twisted quizzically. Mally stared at her, too taken aback to even tell her to get off her backside and help.

'Handsome?' It came out almost strangled, and she very nearly burst out laughing at herself.

'Perhaps it was just the way Aunt Alice talked about him, but ... well, when you were told stories as a child, didn't you imagine the heroes to be handsome?' said Edith, her expression uncharacteristically whimsical.

Unbidden, her thoughts skipped back to being a tiny mouseling, and the smell of apple and squimberry pies wafting through from the kitchen, and the patched apron her mother used to wear, and her and her three sisters and brother, all lined up at a table with identical bowls and spoons … Stories whispered by candlelight when all five young Dormice should have been fast asleep …

'I don't remember,' said Mally stiffly, and picked up the branch again, 'now will you give me a hand with this?'

Edith reverted back to her usual scowl immediately, the spell broken and ruined. She folded her arms across her chest and refused to budge.

'No,' she said, with meticulously pronounced finality.

'Shan't?' Mally mocked, grabbing a lighter twig and jabbing her with it sharply.

Edith yelped and seized the twig before Mally even expected it, jabbing her straight back.

'Oi!'

Edith poked at her again, but Mally dodged it this time and grabbed another twig, this one significantly thicker and heavier. While Edith's twig was now in danger of being snapped in two with a single blow, Mally suddenly found herself in possession of a weapon very hard to move swiftly. Edith jabbed and poked and prodded, and Mally swung and hit out blindly, though still managing to dodge Edith's attacks with a grin. The girl obviously saw this as either an insult or a challenge and stabbed the twig forwards rather dangerously, Mally skittering to the side in the nick of time.

'Alright, girlie, stop now,' she panted, tired of darting around and longing to sit near a warm fire and sleep. 'That's enough.'

Edith merely jabbed at her determinedly. Losing patience, Mally dropped the useless stick and whipped out her hatpin, bringing it down over the twig with a flash of sliver.

Edith jumped back from the blade, releasing the broken twig in fright. She stared at Mally for a moment, and then, ever so strangely, began to laugh.

It was the queerest transformation. A wide, wide toothy grin spread over the girl's sharp little face, lighting it up from the inside. Her dark eyes shone with mirth and for a heartbeat Mally could have sworn she saw something familiar flash in the pointed features; something that was almost distinctly Alice. The next minute it was gone, and all Mally could see was a child laughing as though she hadn't played such a game in years, rocking on her heels and clutching her stomach – at the sight of such an unexpected display Mally couldn't help but chuckle to herself.

'Glad you're amused,' she said, trying and not quite succeeding to sound gruff, 'you almost skewered me.'

The girl just laughed harder at her expression, her knees giving way so that she slipped onto the ground and lay there, snickering ridiculously.

'Oh, you useless …' Mally threw her hands in the air and turned back to contemplate the branch, trying to hide the smirk twitching at her mouth. 'Now,' she sighed, surveying the branch and trying to think of the best plan of attack, 'let's get you over to the pile.'

If I were bigger, a voice hissed in her ear, I could pick it up easily.

If I were human –

'Here, I'll help.'

Mally almost keeled over from shock. Edith had climbed to her feet and dusted herself off, and was now pushing at the end of the branch.

'Well?' she barked, 'Grab your end.'

Mally did so, shaking her head to dislodge the surprise. With some puffing and panting the two got the branch over to the pile the Hatter had almost finished constructing, rolling it into place triumphantly. Edith shot another grin at Mally, surprising her again. It seemed that the girl had suddenly made up her mind to like her.

'I'm afraid it's berries and scones for supper,' said the Hatter, shuffling over to them with two handfuls of gathered squimberries and crumbled bits of scone. Edith seized her portion eagerly, wolfing it down as though the end was nigh. Mally took her own more gratefully, with a rather tired smile.

'What about you?'

He smiled just as tiredly.

'You do say that an awful lot these days, Mally,' he said, though not in annoyance. He sat back, warming his hands by the fire. 'Surely you have better things to do than worry about a silly old thing like me.'

'I would have, if you didn't keep doing things to worry me,' she retorted, nibbling at her scone.

He didn't seem to have heard her, giving only a vague nod. He was absorbed in his own thoughts now, staring sightlessly into the flickering fire, not blinking as it popped and crackled merrily, murmuring lowly to himself.

Edith was watching him again, with the same niggling, troubled face.

'Aunt Alice never described him like this,' she said.

Mally looked at her curiously, 'Never?'

'Never.'

She paused, glancing back at the Hatter, across the fire from them and too locked inside his own head to be within earshot.

'He wasn't always like this,' she said quietly, picking at a squimberry.

Edith tilted her head questioningly, her mouth bulging with squimberries.

'Well, I suppose he was,' she admitted, 'in a way. But … not … not like this,' she added, struggling with trying to explain; she'd never been incredibly overflowing with words, unlike him, 'not … back and forth all the time. Usually he's more controlled. He never would have lost it like that twice in a day let alone in the same hour.'

Edith was silent, gazing down at her juice-stained palms.

'I've wanted to come here since I was very small,' she said finally, 'and it's … it's not what I expected.'

'Things aren't usually what you expect.'

'I know, but … it's like … Oh, it's almost like being right back at home,' she said, sounding almost upset, 'I'd so looked forward to meeting everyone too, and all anyone's done is confuse and scold and tease me!'

'We're Underlanders, it's what we do,' said Mally dismissively, 'and if you want people to be nice to you, don't scream at them. Just a tip.'

Edith scowled predictably, but ate the rest of the meal in an almost pensive silence, watching the Hatter. Mally could see her struggling to make herself talk to him; perhaps she didn't know what to say.

'… Within, the firelight's ruddy glow, and childhood's nest of gladness. The magic words shall hold thee fast: thou shalt not heed the raving blast,' the Hatter muttered into the fire.

'What's that?' asked Edith loudly.

His eyes fixed on her quite suddenly. He stared at her for a moment, then whispered carefully, 'Do you know why a raven is like a writing desk?'

'I … what?'

'A raven,' he nodded, unblinking, 'like a writing desk?'

Edith was staring straight back at him, with the same cautious, narrowed eyes. Both looked like they were waiting for something to explode. Mally looked from the Hatter to Edith and back again.

'Well … I know that one,' said Edith, somewhat triumphantly, as if she'd decided she'd gotten the upper hand for now, and recited, 'they can both produce a few notes, however flat and –'

'No, no, no, no, no!' protested the Hatter, clapping his hands over his ears as if the girl was letting fly some colourful language.

Edith shut her mouth with a snap, half taken aback and half annoyed.

'You don't understand the concept,' said the Hatter somberly, and returned to staring into the fire.

'Hmph,' Edith huffed, sitting back with crossed arms. She looked across at Mally. 'I can't even have a normal conversation with him,' she said in a rather offended half-whisper.

'You better get used to it,' shrugged Mally, 'we probably won't reach Marmoreal before sundown tomorrow and then after that there'll be the actual looking for …' she trailed off, heaving a tired sigh.

'He wants her to stay here, doesn't he?'

Mally coughed out half a sarcastic laugh.

'Yeah,' she said, leaning back on the ground, 'he does a bit. He's only been asking her to stay since blooming Frabjous Day.' She undid the belt that sheathed her hatpin sword and laid it carefully beside her, brushing dust away from its gleaming edge.

'Well, I think he's being selfish,' said Edith with the childish sulk that Mally was beginning to get sick of, 'Aunt Alice has to come back with me, Mother –'

'Look here, missy,' Mally snapped, grabbing the girl's tattered dress front and yanking her forwards, 'you are not the only person who wants Alice back. You are not the only person who needs to find her before all hell breaks loose in the heart and mind of someone you – someone you have to look after. Alright?' She released Edith with a slight push to drive the message home, and the girl almost lost her balance.

'If I was bigger …' she muttered, not quite under her breath.

'I'd like to see you try,' Mally retorted.

'We'll get ulpelkuchun for you at Marmoreal,' the Hatter cut in, barely a murmur and yet still carrying over Edith's muttering and the crackle of the fire.

Edith shot an uneasy look at Mally.

'Could he …? Could he hear everything we just said?' she hissed.

'Then you can go home,' he finished, ignoring Edith's remark if he did indeed hear it, prodding at the fire with a stick to stop it from dimming.

Edith's head snapped round.

'What?' she said dangerously. 'I am not going home. Not until –'

'Not until you've got Auntie Alice, yes, we know,' he replied, just as dangerously.

Edith shrunk back a bit at this tone, but then raised her head defiantly and looked him in the eye.

'Yes, and not a second before,' she said stubbornly. Mally noticed that her fists were tightly clenched in her lap; wound around each other and gripping handfuls of skirt. 'I have to find her, I have to. My mother … her sanity isn't what it used to be.'

'And what about my sanity?' said the Hatter with a grimace of a smile.

'You never had any, or so I've been told.'

'Edith,' said Mally sharply.

The Hatter just let out a volley of high-pitched giggles.

'What has Aunt Alice been telling you?' he said, amused, eyes twinkling green. 'Nothing scandalous I hope? Only I do know how scandalous madness is considered Above.'

Edith seemed to be grappling for words again.

'Told you he's hard to deal with,' said Mally, laughing and thoroughly enjoying the thrown look on Edith's face. She leant back down onto the ground, curling up comfortably. 'We should get some sleep. All of us,' she said pointedly, glancing at the Hatter.

'Ah, yes, yes – of course, Mally,' he nodded distractedly, watching the fire again.

Mally rolled her eyes in resigned exasperation before closing them, exhaling. He would be the death of himself. Or Alice would.

'Everyone has their own special sanity,' Mally heard the Hatter whisper across the fire to Edith a few moments later.

'What are you talking about?' came the annoyed reply.

'A boat beneath a sunny sky,' whispered the Hatter, as if he hadn't heard her.

'Lingering onward dreamily,

'In an evening of July,

'Children three that nestle near,

'Eager eye and willing ear …'

The words blurred into a constant, comforting murmur as Mally felt herself drift off to sleep.

Mally was woken in the small hours of the next morning by the overwhelming feeling that she was being watched.

In the night the fire had burnt down to glowing embers and ash. Edith was curled up in the dirt not far from Mally, contorted into a ridiculous shape with one arm twisted behind her back. The Hatter leant against a nearby tree, hat brim pulled down low over his eyes, chest rising and falling gently. The air was still chilled by the night, and faint blue morning light was glimmering above her through gaps in the canopy.

Mally sat up, reaching for her hatpin sword, clipping her belt and sheath on as her gaze scanned the shadows between the towering trees and thick dark green bushes and brambles. Nothing stirred. She stood slowly, still wary, still feeling unseen eyes watching her.

'Who's there? Show yourself!'

Nothing. Just the eerie silence – no birds chirping, no woodland creatures making their way through the forest.

Mally could still feel those eyes on the back of her neck. She gripped her sword tighter.

'Show yourself!' she shouted, unease building in the pit of her stomach, 'come out or I'll –'

'Dormouse!'

Mally jumped violently as Edith sat up abruptly, her voice ringing throughout the clearing.

In the bushes something stirred – movement barely caught by Mallymkun's sharp ears.

'Edith,' she hissed, making wide gestures for the girl to shut up.

'But you were yelling just now,' protested Edith. 'Is there someone here?'

'I don't know,' said Mally backing up towards her, sword still raised. 'But we should leave.'

'But it's so early,' yawned Edith widely, rubbing her arms in an attempt to keep herself warm.

Mally ignored her, staring into a dark shadow between two bushes.

'What is it?' Edith popped up over her shoulder, nearly giving her a heart attack once more.

'Shh.'

'But if there's someone there they would have already heard you shouting before –'

'Shh.'

Nothing moved amongst the bushes or the trees. Everything remained silent, chilly and dark. Mally looked around the clearing. Nothing leapt out at them, huddled together in the centre with shadows on all sides. Perhaps she had imagined it.

She turned to Edith.

'I think –'

CRASH!

The Dormouse and the girl both yelped as a gigantic creature large enough to swallow both of them without so much as stopping to chew erupted from the bushes behind them, roaring with a mouthful of cruel, serrated and crooked teeth. Powerful muscles coiled beneath raw, red flesh as the creature crouched on its hind legs, which were bent and twisted. A curving tail rose above its huge head, tipped with poison. Edith screamed and tripped as she recoiled from the sight, bringing Mally down with her.

'Evisceraker! Don't move!'

They scrambled in the dirt, tangled, Edith thrashing wildly and kicking Mally in the face.

'Edith!' Mally shouted, trying to shake her. 'Edith, don't panic! Don't move!'

'Are you mad?' shrieked the girl. '"Don't move"? What sort of advice is that?'

'It can't see! It feels movement instead! Shut up, girl!'

Edith either couldn't hear her or was too busy trying to crawl away to listen. Mally jumped on her, trying to hold her still and she twisted frantically, beating her off.

'Edith! Stop –'

Mally gasped as they were both suddenly scooped up by familiar hands.

'Hatter!'

'It's alright, Mally –'

The Evisceraker roared behind them as the Hatter ran, and the Dormouse and the girl were shoved into a pocket hastily. Mally poked her head out, gasping for air as the Hatter darted through the trees, bushes crashing and branches snapping behind them. She could smell the frumious creature's breath, hear its claws scratching the forest floor and ripping up tree roots in fury. The Hatter ducked low branches, dodged bushes and jumped high roots with all the expertise of a futterwacken dancer, but in one moment he didn't jump quite high enough and tripped, lurching forwards. Mally realized what was happening just in time and roughly grabbed Edith around the torso, pulling her up to the top of the pocket.

'JUMP!'

The two of them jumped out and to the side, rolling away just as the Hatter sprawled onto the ground face-first.

'Hatter!'

He was already scrambling to his knees, patting his pockets in horror.

'Hatter, down here!' waved Mally.

He turned and their eyes met just as the Evisceraker leapt through the bushes, landing and skidding to a halt, pelting the Hatter, Mally and Edith with clumps of dirt and grass. It roared, the sound of rusty metal grating against itself.

'Oop!' squeaked the Hatter with a sharp intake of breath, 'I don't think he's happy today.'

In answer it roared again, hackles rising. Edith tried to turn and run, but Mally gripped her arm tightly, forcing her back down.

'Don't … move …' she hissed between gritted teeth.

'But –'

'So far who's been right about these things, you or me?'

There was a tense silence. They were frozen, Mally and Edith squatted on the ground a few feet from the Hatter, on his knees with his back turned to the creature, wincing.

The creature swung its great head around, turning and turning in a full circle, the bones clicking together as it searched blindly.

Mally could hear her own heart pumping in her ears, could almost hear Edith's pattering frantically beside her. Slowly the monster's curved, deadly tail rose up. Mally watched its ascent, heart now leaping into her throat.

SLASH!

A poison tipped arrow was shot from the creature's tail, slicing through the air in a flash perilously close to Edith and Mally, who gasped and pulled them both out of the way.

'RUN!' bellowed the Dormouse, but already the Evisceraker had felt the movement and sent a shower of poisoned arrows in their direction.

The group scattered three ways, disappearing into the darkness. Mally darted across the forest floor on all fours, her hatpin sword bumping against the rough ground. She heard a high-pitched scream of pain behind her, and stopped. Edith.

'She's going to get me killed,' Mally huffed, doubling back.

Edith was curled on the ground, grasping her leg. As Mally neared her she saw that the girl was staring straight ahead and struggling not to cry, her face contorted with pain. This was for once probably perfectly reasonable, as the leg in question and the hands clutching it were covered in blood.

'What happened?' panted Mally as she dropped down beside her.

'One of – one of those flying stings …' gasped Edith, biting her lip, '… it – it …'

Mally pried her bloodied hands back from the wound. It was a long, deep, dark red slash against the girl's sallow skin, smeared and viscous. Mally sucked in a sharp breath between her teeth as she noticed the arrow quivering the ground not far away, its dark side glistening with blood.

'A graze. Just be glad it didn't blow your leg off,' she said, looking back at Edith.

The girl was still staring straight ahead, rocking slightly, her mouth a thin white line.

In the near distance the Evisceraker let out another screeching roar – padding, ripping feet were pounding closer, shaking the ground.

'Edith, we can't stop,' said Mally, trying to pull the girl to her feet. 'We have to –'

'Mallymkun,' gasped Edith, not moving; staring ahead blankly.

'I know it hurts, but –'

'No. There's one more thing,' the girl whimpered, her voice strained.

'What's that?'

'Why can't I see anything?'