Disclaimer:

Looking Glass creatures all gather round,

White cat and black cat and girl with a crown,

The daughter named Lily just came out to play,

For here she owns nothing, not even the name.

CHAPTER EIGHT – THE GIRL IN THE TOWER

'The poison,' Mally cursed, examining the wound, 'it must be some kind of thing to hinder prey.'

'Why didn't you tell me about this?' cried Edith, almost hysterical, addressing the thin air over Mally's shoulder, eyes wide and unguarded and filled with pure terror.

'How was I supposed to know?' argued Mally, 'Eviscerakers are supposed to be extinct, they lived in the Outlands Ages and Times ago; I'm not an expert!'

As she spoke the creature itself came crashing through the undergrowth once more, shooting poisoned arrows madly in everywhere. Mally and Edith dived in opposite directions; as Mally skidded under a bush she saw Edith roll blindly, her mouth pursed in an effort not to yelp in pain.

The Evisceraker sensed the girl rolling near his feet and growled, head swinging down and lunging for her.

There was no time to move, no time to even think, and on a reflex built from fighting in the Resistance Mally shouted in Outlandish.

'KLOTCHYN!'

As soon as the word was out of her mouth she rebuked herself. The girl wouldn't understand –

'Which way?'

To her amazement Mally saw that Edith had indeed moved; had dodged the Eviscerakers' teeth and was now wobbling on her feet, frozen right before the creature; both of them blind to the other's presence.

Mally herself was frozen too, by shock. This shrieking, scowling girl who had tumbled down here by mistake and refused to comprehend the way this world worked could speak Outlandish?

'Orgal,' whispered Mally, experimenting, wondering if the child would understand. Again to her surprise Edith obeyed, inching to the left. As the creature's head dived for her once more Mally realized her mistake.

'No, no!' she yelled, 'stang, stang!'

Edith jumped right, just in time to avoid being snapped up by the wide, gaping red mouth.

'Mallymkun?' she called, eyes fearful.

'Nunz, nunz.'

Edith froze, waiting. She was shaking.

The Evisceraker swiped out with one blind paw, as though it could see the very tremors in the air of Edith's trembling body.

'Noge!'

Edith ducked.

'Orgal!'

Left.

'Stang!'

Right.

'Noge!'

'Zounder!'

'Stang!'

'Orgal!'

Edith ducked and dived and darted around the creature, slipping and falling on her slashed leg as Mally barked the directions in Outlandish.

'Sloth, sloth! Nunz!'

Edith slowed and then stopped, panting.

'Now,' said Mally carefully, 'orgal, an' legro.'

Edith ran left, limping heavily on her leg, running straight into Mally and squealing.

'Edith, Edith, it's me; it's alright –'

'Mally …' Edith started to giggle hysterically, clutching at the Dormouse's forearms.

'Shock,' Mally muttered to herself, slinging one of Edith's arms over her shoulders and beginning to run, pulling the shaky girl along with her, 'come, Edith, legro, legro.'

Edith ran as fast as her leg seemed to allow, still laughing shakily.

'We're alive!'

'We won't be for much longer unless you snap out of it!' snapped Mally as they ran. She could hear it following behind them, feel it shaking the ground still.

'You speak Outlandish?' panted Edith.

'Of course I do!' said Mally. 'I was part of the UUR in the time of the Red Queen!'

'UUR?'

'Underland Underground Resistance, we used Outlandish as a code language,' said Mally offhandedly, 'never mind that; you speak Outlandish? I thought you were an Otherlander.'

'I only speak – a bit,' puffed the girl, 'insults mainly. Curses – and swears – that sort of thing. And basic directions and how to introduce myself and the like. Aunt Alice taught –'

With a sudden pang a memory came to Mallymkun, a memory of a long ago golden afternoon sitting in the shade of Tulgey Wood – her and the Hatter and Alice – chattering away to each other.

'She's such a determined little thing. She's been begging me to teach her Outlandish; I think she just wants a way of swearing at her tutors without them knowing. She wants to come to Underland already, you know …'

'Mally?'

The memory flickered away as quickly as it had appeared, like an old ember that had glowed briefly with warmth.

'Yes, of course, Aunt Alice,' said Mally, immediately hating the bitterness in her own tone.

Edith was silent.

They ran for a few moments, the only sounds their uneven steps and breathing, until Mally noticed the trees were beginning to thin out. She put on a burst of speed, nearly dragging Edith like a ragdoll.

'Can you see yet?'

'No,' said Edith, 'and my leg feels ready to drop off.'

'Hold on just a little longer,' said Mally, casting a glance behind them. They weren't gaining any ground it seemed, she could still hear the creature behind her. Evidently Edith could too, from the way she was still shaking.

'Just a little longer, Edith …'

There was a crash and a crunch as a tree was toppled behind them.

'Where is it?'

'Behind us, we'll be fine; keep moving!'

They ran faster and burst out of the trees onto grassy fields and, not far away, Mally spotted a large, shining lake, rippling in the morning light.

'Shifting Lake!' Mally gasped, clutching at a stitch in her side.

'How far?' moaned Edith, faltering.

'Hang on, there's a … what is that?'

Standing in the centre of the lake's island was a shimmering tower, shaped exactly like a very skinny rook chess-piece. It seemed to be made from plaster, covered from to top to bottom in a thousand shards of glass which caught the sunlight, and it looked crooked enough to collapse in on itself. Mally had never seen it before. She squinted at the distance between them and the slim chance of safety. If the Hatter had been carrying them they would have made it to the Lake's edge in under a minute, but as they were, tiny and somewhat crippled –

Mally felt a stab of worry for the Hatter. Where was he?

Focus, Mally, she told herself sternly, Tarrant can look after himself.

Yes, because he's done a marvelous job of it in the past years, hasn't he?

Focus.

She concentrated on running, ignoring the sick worry in her mind and the pains in her legs and shoulders.

'Mally, how much longer?'

'Just a little bit longer, Edith, just a little bit –'

'You're lying,' said the girl, her fear and conviction making Mally fumble the words.

'Maybe a few more minutes. There's a tower, we might be able to climb up –'

'Climb?' Edith's voice went considerably high-pitched there. 'Are you insane?'

The Evisceraker roared behind them, and Mally could almost hear Edith's teeth grinding together as they sped up.

Finally they reached the short bridge to the island. Mally shielded her eyes from the glare with her free hand. As they neared the tower she saw the bits of glass were in fact mirror shards, distorting her and Edith's reflection millions of times over, the reflections bouncing off themselves. The Evisceraker loomed like a blurry storm cloud behind them, moving through the shadows of the forest.

'We're going up,' Edith yelped, 'why are we going up?'

'Bridge,' panted Mally, 'island. Tower. Safe.'

Over the bridge and onto the muddy grass of the island, and Mally was beginning to see a distinct lack of door to the tower. She stopped, huffing and puffing, releasing Edith, who toppled over onto the grass with a small cry of pain.

'Where are we?' she said, her head turning from side to side blindly, hands clamping down on her leg.

'On the island at the tower,' replied Mally. She turned behind them to see the creature emerge from the forest shadows, a hulking silhouette moving closer and closer. She turned back to the tower hurriedly, scurrying around its perimeter. It was about as wide as ten men grouped together, and about ten feet tall at a rough guess.

'Is there a door?'

'Can't see one,' Mally said, eyeing the cracks between the glass shards for footholds. 'We might have to –'

She stopped abruptly, ears pricking.

'What is it?' said Edith immediately.

'Can you hear that?'

'To the Looking-Glass world the dream-child said; I've a scepter in hand and a crown on my head; let the Looking-Glass creatures, whatever they be; come together to dine on the White Queen and me …' It was faint singing, musical and so pitch-perfect it was almost painful to listen to.

'I can hear singing,' said Edith, surprised.

'Me too.' Mally made another turn of the tower, and this time spotted a window. 'Up there!'

'Where?'

'There – oh, never mind,' said Mally hastily as the Evisceraker stampeded towards them. One and a half yards away …

'Hello up there!' shouted Mally, calling up to the window. The singer stopped, and a golden head appeared at the window.

'Oh, my goodness!' cried a sweet voice, 'Visitors!'

'Where's the door?' shouted Mally. One yard away …

'Oh …' said the voice, and Mally thought she saw a pale, long-fingered hand raised to a mouth in surprise, 'there isn't one. I would have thought that was obvious,' the singer added unnecessarily.

'We have to get inside!' Edith was climbing to her feet awkwardly, staring upwards in entirely the wrong direction.

'And just how do you propose to do that?' came the reply, sweetly befuddled.

'I don't know!' snapped Edith, 'Let down a rope of hair or something!'

'A rope of hair?' The air was filled with chiming bell-like laughter. 'Whatever do you mean, you strange creature?'

Half a yard away …

'Look, could you just lower something down to let us in?' shouted Mally, trying not to jump up and down with frustration and nervousness. 'We really need to get up –'

Right on cue the Evisceraker roared as it closed the gap between itself and the lake's edge. Up in the tower window the pale hands fluffed about in surprise.

'Oh, my goodness; yes, I see! I'll be right back! Don't go anywhere!' She disappeared from the window.

'Hurry!' cried Mally, her voice coming out rather strangled. She grabbed Edith and directed her over to the window as the Evisceraker cleared the bridge with one jump and landed on the tiny island.

'Mally, where is it? What's going on?'

'Just wait, and shut up!' Mally snapped before she could stop herself.

'You shut up!' said Edith childishly.

Mally bit back a retort as the Evisceraker rounded the corner of the tower. She held herself and Edith in place.

'Don't – move,' she whispered.

The creature looked from side to side, and suddenly its attention was caught by something high above. It reared up onto its hind legs, towering over Mally and Edith at six feet at least, wavering as it snapped at the piece of rope which was being lowered down from the tower window. Mally slapped a hand to her face as she heard a squeal from inside the tower.

'Don't move!' she called up to the singer, but it seemed too late already. The Evisceraker leant forwards on its hind legs, crashing onto the tower walls. Something cracked.

As the tower wobbled precariously Mally started forwards, unsheathing her sword as she went, ready to try her signature eye-stabbing move. Edith grabbed blindly for her, her small hands scrunching around the back of Mally's tunic as if she knew what Mally was about to do.

'Don't, Mally –'

Before Mally could even open her mouth to argue with the stubborn child there came the resounding crumbling, chinkling crash of the mirror tower cracking and falling; the sound of breaking glass magnified by a thousand. In one swift movement Mally sheathed her sword and rammed into Edith, shoving them both out of the way in the nick of time. A cascade of dagger-like glass came shooting down as the tower fell; the Evisceraker chased the movement every which way, confused. The crumbled plaster and broken mirrors crashed down on the creature, pinning it and burying it almost completely from sight with a deafening final roar and yelp.

Mally sat up, coughing and waving away white dust. She and Edith had been knocked to the ground in her desperation to get them both away from the falling tower, and the girl was now hunched over her leg, which was bleeding worse than ever. Mally pushed her back gently but firmly, getting a better look at the slash.

'Hmm.' She ripped an already tattered shred of fabric from Edith skirt and tore it in two, scurrying to the island's edge to dip both pieces in the water. The skirt reminded her of its maker with another stab of worry that she banished forcefully.

'Hold onto this bit,' she said, handing Edith one piece, 'and see if you can dab at the wound with this one. I'll be right back.'

She pressed the other shred into Edith's hand and hurried over to the wreckage of the tower.

As the dust cleared Mally could see it was completely destroyed; it was now a large pile of white plaster and glass. She spied the limp tail of the Evisceraker peeking out from under it.

'Hello?' she called, clambering onto the mess, treading carefully around shards of mirror which were sticking upwards. As she reached the top of the pile the plaster beneath her began to move, and she yelped in alarm, whipping out her hatpin sword once more.

'Help me, please …'

Relief washed over Mally as she saw a girl peering out at her, one hand raised in plea.

'Sorry,' said Mally, sheathing her sword and helping to pull and push plaster out of the way. A few minutes later the singer was free, pulling herself out of the rock pile as it collapsed further beneath her.

She was a young woman really, Mally observed as the girl dusted herself off, she couldn't have been under eighteen. Despite the fact that she had just been buried under a considerably heavy pile of ex-tower, her golden hair was glossy and perfect, albeit charmingly ruffled. Her face was rather pretty, Mally supposed, if you went for that sort of thing; pale and picturesque, with two big, deep blue eyes framed by thick dark-gold lashes. Two dimples appeared as she smiled down at Mally.

'Hello,' she said in that sweet, tuneful voice, 'I'm so glad you've finally come.'

One slim hand was lowered down, and Mally was lifted up level with those big blue eyes.

'"Finally come"?' she echoed, confused.

The girl giggled, 'Oh, don't be silly. I know who you are.'

'You do?' said Mally, growing more and more confused.

'Well, of course!' she said, beaming radiantly. 'You're my fairy godmother!'

Mally's first impulse was to burst into hysterical peals of laughter at the very idea that anyone could mistake her for a fairy godmother. This impulse was luckily overruled by the second impulse though, which was to stare at the girl in utter bewilderment.

'I … what did you say?'

'Fairy godmother,' said the girl promptly, her smile not slipping for a moment.

For a long moment Mally stared at her. Was the girl touched in the head?

'I'm Isolda,' said the girl, 'Isolda Celwydd, but of course you must know that already.'

'Mallymkun,' said Mally, still raising an eyebrow at her, 'and this is … oh, Edith!' As she remembered the younger girl she scampered off Isolda's hand and down the pile.

Edith was absorbed with dabbing gingerly at her leg and wincing heavily. The wound had been cleaned, though it was still bleeding slightly.

Mally took the other fabric scrap from her hand and the girl jumped.

'Calm down, it's just me,' she said, and began to tie the fabric around the injured leg.

'Ow!' gasped Edith as Mally pulled the knot tight.

'Oh, stop your whining,' said Mally mildly.

'It stings,' whined Edith, though in a way that was not quite convinced.

'How's the vision?'

'Still nothing,' she replied casually. Mally noted the undertone of fear in the girl's voice.

'It'll come back,' she said, tying one last knot in place.

'You don't know that.'

Mally glanced at her pallid face; drained of blood, covered in grime. The dark eyes stared away into nothingness, not meeting her gaze.

'Stand up,' said Mally, pulling her to her feet carefully.

Edith tested her leg and winced, but seemed able to walk at least.

'What happened to the Hatter?' she asked.

'I don't know,' shrugged Mally, working hard to keep her voice steady and free of concern. 'We'll have to get you to Marmoreal before that leg gives out completely.'

'Marmoreal?' Suddenly Isolda was at their side, hands clasped together, an eager smile on her lips. 'You've come to take me to Marmoreal; oh, how wonderful!'

'Who's that?'

Isolda looked down at the tiny blind Edith, her face a picture of utmost pity.

'Oh, the poor dear thing.'

Edith took offence to this immediately.

'I'm not poor and I'm not dear!' she snapped. 'I've got a hurt leg, that's all!'

'Poor little fae,' said Isolda. 'Is she your fairy maid?' she asked Mally.

Mally chuckled at the look of outrage on Edith's face.

'My name's Isolda,' she said, oblivious to such a look, which was probably the result of never before having such a look turned upon her in all her life, 'what's yours?'

'Edith,' the girl grunted in reply, somehow making this sound like an order to get lost.

'I'm ever so glad you've both come,' said Isolda, 'it was beginning to get awfully dull in that tower. I've wanted to see Marmoreal ever since I was a little girl.'

'Well, you can't possibly come with us,' said Edith quickly, 'we're in a hurry.'

'But … no, I have to come with you, you're my fairies,' insisted Isolda, a somewhat wounded and confused expression on her sweet face, 'I have to seek my fortune. I have to find my prince.' She looked from one to the other, and added forlornly, 'My tower's gone … I have nowhere else to go.'

'Look, princess,' sighed Mally, 'we're sorry about your tower and everything –'

Edith snorted.

'– But we can't take you with us.'

'Why not?' pouted Isolda.

Edith muttered something which sounded suspiciously like; 'Because I hate you.'

'We just can't,' said Mally firmly, and began to steer Edith away.

'Wait! Please!'

With an impatient huff Mally turned to find that Isolda had picked up her rose pink skirts and hurried after them, daintily picking her way through fallen white stones.

'You have to take me! You have to!'

'No, we don't!' snapped Edith waspishly.

Mally breathed in and out, hands on hips. Her head was beginning to swim from this morning's exertion. She looked at Edith.

The girl seemed to sense her gaze.

'No,' she said, shaking her head vehemently, 'no. She is not coming with us.'

'I can't believe you let her come with us.'

Half a day later and Mally had to admit that it hadn't been one of her best decisions.

Isolda spent most of the time talking, about how Mally and Edith were her "fairies", about how excited she was about Marmoreal, and about her "prince charming".

'And he'll have the most gorgeous dark eyes, sort of brooding and melancholy … and dark hair like black chocolate – not curly but a little messy, but perfectly messy … and pale skin … strong, angular features … dark and tall …'

'You're very precise,' Mally noted dryly, and heard Edith snort with barely stifled laughter beside her.

'Just a little choosy,' said Isolda innocently, shooting Mally a white-toothed, pink-lipped smile. 'I'm sure you would be about your prince charming.'

Before Mally's mind had time to be reminded and before her heart had time to ache Edith snorted again, grounding her.

'There's no such thing,' said Edith a little too fiercely, 'there's no such thing.' She tossed her head with contempt, as if to say the matter was closed.

Isolda sighed.

'My feet ache so,' she said woefully. 'And I'm hungry.' She looked down at Mally hopefully. 'Could I please have some ice cream and some new shoes?'

The first time she had done this Mally had been even more taken aback than when she had found herself suddenly proclaimed a fairy godmother, but now the novelty had long worn very thin indeed, along with her patience.

'I told you, Isolda,' she said, struggling to keep calm, 'I can't do magic. And neither can Edith.'

Isolda sighed again, this time more mournfully.

There was a small silence, before Edith spoke up suddenly.

'You know,' she said slyly, 'if you carried us we could get there much faster. I'm sure the White Queen would have lots of ice cream. And the new dresses and the water and the pink lemonade and the pony. We wouldn't weigh a thing.'

Isolda wrinkled her nose in distaste.

'But where would I carry you? I have no pockets.'

'We could sit on your shoulders,' suggested Mally.

The dainty little nose wrinkled further.

'But you'd be up in my hair,' she said, touching the soft, loose gold curls with one hand.

'Oh, yes, heaven forbid we touch your sainted hair,' muttered Edith, and it was Mally's turn to snigger.

When they set up camp that night it took them some time to reconcile Isolda with the idea of sleeping outdoors, with no blankets, on the bare ground.

'Won't I be cold?'

'That's what the fire's for,' said Mally as she hauled sticks into place.

'You'll leave the fire burning all night? What if it spreads?'

'It won't spread, you silly chit,' said Mally, all patience lost after spending the whole day in the stupid girl's company.

When they all finally lay down to sleep Mally could hear her singing faintly from the other side of the fire.

Mally woke the next morning to see Edith's face looming over her.

'Ah!' she yelped.

'Ah!' Edith yelped in turn, jumping back and skidding into the ashes of the previous night's fire.

'Good morning to you too,' said Mally, sitting up.

'I can see!' said Edith jubilantly, 'I can see again!'

'That's g–'

All at once Mally found herself tackled to the ground in a hug.

'Thank you,' said Edith sincerely as she pulled away.

Mally brushed herself off and glanced at the girl.

'You … you did well,' she said gruffly, and reached out and patted Edith's shoulder somewhat hesitantly. She was rewarded with a smile that grew into a proud, beaming grin.

'Mally?'

'Hmm?'

'I really do believe we can find her.'

Mally felt something stick in her throat as she looked at the girl; the girl who suddenly seemed so young.

You'll let her down, Alice, she thought to herself, just like you let the rest of us down.

And she suddenly felt inexplicably hurt, so hurt she that wanted to cry.

'Mally?' Edith looked almost concerned. The sight of it was too strange.

You shouldn't look like that, Mally wanted to say. You're much too young.

'She'll be fine, Mally.' There was no room for doubt in that little voice.

You shouldn't be comforting me.

And yet Mally was compelled to slightly admire her foolish and unwavering loyalty – sympathise with it even.

'We'll see,' she replied, swallowing the burn in her throat. 'How's your leg?'

Edith winced.

'Don't remind me.'

'That bad?'

'It's started throbbing,' said Edith. 'I hate throbbing more than aching or stinging.'

She looked over at Isolda, who was still fast asleep over the other side of the fire pit, her back turned to them, golden curls rippling down her neck to pool on the ground.

'She's revoltingly pretty,' Edith said in disgust. 'I bet she has dimples.'

Mally laughed.

'She has dimples, doesn't she?'

When Isolda finally woke, sweetly demanding breakfast, (a bacon sandwich), and was not-so-sweetly denied by Edith and Mally, the trio started off towards Marmoreal again. Isolda was walking in silence, which was a clear sign of how annoyed she was.

'Will you walk a little faster?' she said after a while.

'We can't,' said Mally, 'you're bigger than us. We're going as fast as we can and Edith's leg is stuffed.'

Isolda stopped, her skirts swaying gently. She heaved a dainty sigh and then lowered a hand.

'Hop on then.'

Mally jumped onto her hand, pulling a slightly reluctant Edith on after her. Isolda began a steady, graceful walk towards the rolling hills in the distance.

By late afternoon they crossed the border into Marmoreal. On the horizon they could just see the White Queen's castle, rising above the surrounding land on a high hilltop; a vague spiralling shape of white against the green hills.

Isolda was plainly feeling put-upon.

'Is there a problem?' said Mally sharply after a series of long and rather tragic sniffs from the young woman.

'Oh, it's nothing …' she said, waving her free hand delicately.

When someone says, "it's nothing" in such a way, they really mean to make it plain that it is actually something, and they are simply too much of a selfless martyr to burden others with their woes.

'Alright, then,' Mally shrugged.

'Well …'

'Oh, here we go …'

'I just … I feel like a mule,' sniffed Isolda, 'although I know you must both be awfully tired to make me carry you …'

'Must she trail off her sentences like that?' muttered Edith. 'If she wants to put us down why doesn't she dump us on the ground?'

'Because she's a twipping naffter, that's why,' Mally said to her under her breath.

'We cannae faergit she's mair refainit than us, Mally,' Edith whispered back in the same mangled Outlandish, and they both dissolved into a fit of the sniggers.

'Did you two say something?' said Isolda sweetly.

'No,' said Edith.

'I could have sworn you were laughing just now.'

'No, no laughing,' said Mally, 'don't know what you're talking about.'

As Isolda pursed her pink lips and turned back to the horizon Edith and Mally exchanged a smirk.

By nightfall neither Mally nor Edith even had the energy to mock their new companion in Outlandish. They both sat cupped in Isolda's hands, Edith looking rather pale underneath all the grime and Mally watching her carefully out of the corner of one eye. The girl's leg was a dark, sticky mess, the makeshift bandage having long seeped through with blood.

'I'm sure I have blisters,' said Isolda.

'We'll be at Marmoreal soon,' said Mally, barely paying her any attention by now.

'We'd better be.'

'Yes,' said Mally, watching Edith's gaze slide in and out of focus, 'we'd better be.'

Late that night Isolda's slippered feet crunched along the white gravel drive that lead to the White Castle. The wide path wound between two colossal white chess pawns, over a clear, blue lake, and up the hill to where the Castle was perched.

Mally shook Edith awake gently, pointing silently at the Castle. The girl's weary face was lit with wonder by the sight.

The White Castle was an elegantly constructed palace of white marble, with spires and turrets and twisting towers that rose high into the night sky. The shapes of chess-pieces could be picked out here and there; a rook of a tower on one side, a bishop turret spiralling upwards. Mally could hear the sounds of the waterfalls rushing off the nearby cliffs; smell the dewy sweet freshness to the air. The whole Castle glowed against its backdrop of inky black, star-scattered sky.

Edith smiled, and once again Mally could almost see a ghost of Alice in that smile – a different Alice, an Alice without the shadows of poor sleep under her eyes. It was an Alice who hadn't yet been made to grow up; the child Alice that Mally had known such a long, long time ago.

'It's wonderful,' Edith breathed, closing her eyes as if full from feasting on the sight.

'It's simply breath-taking,' said Isolda, gazing at the Castle ardently, 'even more beautiful than the stories used to say. The white marble! Oh, and the chess theme, it's adorable!'

Mally was tempted to stick her sword into Isolda's palm.

As they neared the castle doors the drive narrowed, lined by blossom trees on either side. Their fragrance filled the air, and just when Mally was afraid that Isolda would attempt more poetry over it, the huge dark wood doors at the end of the drive swung open. Warm light spilt out onto the pavement, and the silhouette of a footman side stepped into view.

Isolda's pace quickened eagerly up the stone steps, her face shining with excitement.

'Greetings, maiden,' said the footman as they reached him. He was clothed entirely in white, his uniform immaculate. 'What brings you to Marmoreal?'

Before Isolda could begin to spout any nonsense about fairy godmothers or promises of ice cream Mally stood up in Isolda's hand.

'Mallymkun to see Queen Mirana,' she said clearly. 'And quickly, please, Heem. The girl here is badly injured.' She indicated the sleeping Edith's bloodied leg.

Heem the footman peered at Edith, jumping back at the sight of her as though startled.

'Goodness. Yes, yes …' He shut the doors behind them and hurried off, beckoning, 'This way, this way.'

They followed him through the spacious white Hall and into the maze of corridors beyond. He led them through corridor after corridor and they steadily climbed stairs. When Mally was about to ask how much further they had to go, Heem stopped abruptly.

'Wait here, please.' He nodded politely and then disappeared down another corridor.

A few moments later he returned.

'Her Majesty the White Queen,' he said with another nod, before dissolving into the shadows dutifully to reveal Mirana behind him; her white hair loose, a shawl as intricate as a spider's web clutched over her nightgown.

'Oh, your Majesty,' Isolda simpered in her sweet way, curtseying. 'Isolda Celwydd.'

Mirana looked ever so slightly bewildered for a moment, before smiling back graciously.

'I was told Mallymkun had come for help,' she said, scanning the floor at Isolda's feet.

'Right here, your Highness,' said Mally, peering over Isolda's delicate fingers.

'Mallymkun,' said the Queen, her smile growing more genuine, 'I've told you before you are permitted to call me by my first name.'

'It's a sign of respect, ain't it?' said Mally. At any other time she would have been mortified to have woken the Queen but she couldn't keep Edith waiting any longer. 'We do need your help, Mirana. This is Edith Manchester. She's Alice's niece.'

Mirana's eyes widened, and Mally thought she saw a sadness flicker in them momentarily before being smoothly covered by calm neutrality. She bent over Isolda's outstretched hands, white hair falling like a curtain around Mally and Edith.

'I see … Come with me.'

She led them downstairs and through the twisting corridors once more. They reached the kitchens finally, and Mirana floated busily over to her workbench; neatly cluttered with jars and packets and containers of bizarre ingredients and implements.

She instructed Isolda to set Edith and Mally down on the tabletop as she began to mix ingredients.

'What happened, Mally?'

Mally explained about Edith's sudden arrival in Underland, her insistence that Alice was still alive and somewhere in their world, their rather disastrous meeting with Tarrant Hightopp, and their subsequent run in with the Evisceraker and Isolda.

'Evisceraker. Hmm …' the White Queen murmured softly, a tiny frown creasing the pale skin between her eyes as she mashed something into a paste vigorously.

Isolda seemed quite in awe of the Queen, watching her with silent admiration. Mally sat cross-legged beside Edith, who was slipping in and out of her dream-like state as Mally carefully untied the bandage and washed the wound out.

'Did I really drown, Mally?' the girl muttered softly.

'Drown?'

'Ravings,' said Mirana, setting down a knife smeared with green paste and some neatly cut pieces of white, sweet-smelling cloth next to Mally. 'Rub this into the cut and then redress it with this. We'll have to give her ulpelkuchun after it's healed over a little more or the stretching might tear it further.'

There was a small silence as Mally did as she was directed, catching half-mumbles of Edith's slurred speech. Mirana soon carefully dripped a sliver of a clear potion into the girl's mouth.

'It should put her to sleep,' she said, recapping the cork with a flourish and smiling her usual slightly vacant smile, as if her mind were elsewhere.

'Your majesty,' said Mally hesitantly, 'would it be alright if I left Edith here for a while?'

'You're all welcome to stay as long as you need, of course.'

'I have to go find the Hatter,' said Mally, 'we got split up when the Evisceraker attacked us.'

Mirana smiled comfortingly, 'Tarrant will cope just fine, I suspect.'

'But the Evisceraker could have –'

'Tarrant passed through here half a day before you did,' said the Queen, 'he wasn't at all injured, if a bit malnourished.'

'Half a day? But …' stammered Mally, completely taken aback.

'He did mention to expect a visit from you in the next couple of days or so. I was considering sending a search party out soon. He took the Bearer's Stone from the Vorpal Sword with him - he seemed to be heading towards Tulgey Wood.'

'But … but …' Mally was stumped for words. She felt more than a twinge of betrayal. He had just left them, with an Evisceraker after them and an injured Edith, just so that he could get a head start on finding Alice by himself? The thought stung badly. 'You mean, he's left us behind?'