If he didn't reach the eighth square first, the "other Alice" would be crowned and would be allowed to go home, while he would have to stay in Wonderland for who knows how long.

The thought didn't sit well with Alois as he wandered across the chessboard's length, narrowly avoiding the clashing swords and soaring spears from the various knights.

Not only did he dislike it, but he was confused. Why did he have to be dragged into a game he didn't feel like playing? All he had wanted to do was go home. Instead, he was pulled into a reverse world with the only benefit that he reaped being that his stomachache had completely vanished.

Long before that time, his headache had also ceased, and he seemed to be injured in no other places from his previous fall.

He began mapping out what he was to do next.

The Red King had set out pegs and had told him directions, but they were too vague. He had said "two yards" but he had never said in which direction. Alois figured that he'd keep walking until he was lead somewhere. At least he had learned that the secret to getting places was to walk backwards, which he did, though not without some difficulty.

Holding the memorandum-book under his arm, he hesitantly crept backwards, step by step, head craned to see what was behind him. With his head turned to the back, he failed to notice that the atmosphere in front of him changed yet again, and all at once he noticed himself seated on the bench of a train.

Across from him sat three creatures: a man who sat next to a goat, who, in turn sat next to a beetle.

The thing that Alois found to be very strange was the man's attire, for he was dressed in a two-piece suit, an overcoat, a bowler hat, loafers, and a wristwatch* (which Alois found to be very stupid and 'effeminate' looking, though he didn't use those words exactly) all made of newspaper.

His brain fumbled a bit, searching through memories of faces he'd seen around London before, and soon the man's face began to look familiar. On a mission or two issued by the Queen, Alois had seen the face of the police commissioner, Sir Arthur Randall, and his face looked exactly like that of the man sitting across from him.

"You look like someone I know from London," Alois began, but was quickly cut off when Randall looked up and criticized in a hard, haughty voice, "So young a child ought to know where she's going, even if she doesn't know her own name."

"Huh?"

"She ought to know her way to the ticket office, even if she doesn't know her own alphabet," bleated the goat, its beard whipping to and fro as it spoke (it seem to be wearing eye glasses as well, which Alois also found to be very stupid looking).

"She ought to know the direction in which the train is going and all of its stops in between, even if she doesn't know how to walk!" the beetle spat, and the rest of their conversation was shut off, as a man sauntered over to them.

He held out his hand to Alois, shouting, "Ticket, please!" and when Alois looked up, he realized the man looked very much like Randall's partner (whom he had also seen once or twice, but had never talked to) Abberline. Only this man looked slightly different, for he had a mustache.

"Ticket?" Alois repeated, "I don't have one."

And there were gasps abound as Abberline crossed his arms and shook his head, repeating, "Ticket, please." He might have thought that if he asked more than once, Alois' answer would change.

"I said I don't have one."

"Don't keep him waiting," a multitude of random voices chorused. "His time is worth a thousand pounds a minute!"

Those seemed to be the voices of a bunch of other passengers, but Alois didn't see any one in the car...

Abberline turned back to Alois, inquiring, "You boarded the train without a ticket?"

"Obviously."

"She snuck inside!" the people chorused again, "Why, her tricks must be worth a thousand pounds a scheme!"

Alois opened his mouth to yell at the irritatingly nosy (and invisible) people, but was cut off when they spoke again, in unison, "Better not say anything, little girl! Language is worth a thousand pounds a word."

Before the ticket collector could say anything else, the train took off, speeding down the tracks swiftly and roughly, and he clumsily tripped over himself, screaming as he slid down into another section of the car.

Alois would have laughed, but he himself struggled to stay seated. In contrast, the man, the goat, and the beetle all seemed not to have a single problem with sitting still. And they didn't seem to notice Alois' struggles either.

The goat bleated loudly, chewing something unknown before hoofing at the newspaper the man next to him was reading, saying, "Nice weather, I heaaard. But it's so hot."

To which the man responded with, "It is. I believe that the sun must shine hotter than−" he had no time to finish his sentence, for a horse had stuck its head out the window of a leading car, shouting in a hoarse voice, "Change engines!"

Once the horse pulled its head back inside the train, the beetle immediately began speaking. "You might make a joke about that: something about horse and hoarse, you know."

Alois (who guessed that the insect was talking to him) stared at it for a while, but otherwise said nothing before turning his head towards the window, only to hear the goat speak again.

"The drab benches in heeeere complement your colorless suit quite nicely," the goat complimented Randall, though it didn't sound like one. Again the beetle spoke "You might make a joke about that: something about complement and compliment, you know."

Alois shot the insect another look, but again said nothing and only turned to look back out the window at the blurring landscape that rolled by at top speed.

At one point in the journey, the train actually jumped and crashed back onto the track, causing many of the invisible guests to gasp in astonishment. The track made a few other screeching noises of metal, but eventually the noises ceased, giving way to the familiar clicking of the wheels on the track.

It was the horse again that leaned its head out the window, shouting, "Don't worry! It's only a brook we jumped over! If you could all calm down, we should make the next stop in just a moment."

"You might make a joke about that: something about 'we should if you could', you know."

"What does telling jokes have to do with anything?" Alois snapped, quite viciously. In fact, the response seemed so savage that the beetle gave a very small sigh that would have made anyone (except for Alois Trancy) feel sorry for it. After that, it said nothing more.

At this point, the train skimmed through a tunnel, and a luminous light that only Alois saw danced across the tunnel walls, reading, "Square Three Down Ahead."

"Down ahead?"

He was sure that correct grammar usually supported up ahead, but said nothing about the sign, as there was no reason to since he was the only one who saw it.

Once the blackened shrouds of the tunnel parted, the train abruptly halted right in front of the mouth of a wood. It seemed a very odd place to stop, and Alois actually waited a few moments for the train to start up again, but the man, goat, and beetle seemed to be standing up and leaving, so Alois decided to do the same.

But as soon as he stood, he had no chance to actually leave the train, for it melted away and he was left standing on where the track had been, utterly and rightfully perplexed.

Turning to the wood, he saw a sign that lead in, warning, "Forgetful Wood - Please Remember Your Name" in elegant cursive.

"Remember your name?"

With a shrug, the blonde strolled into the wood, memorandum-book still clutched under his arm. No sooner had he entered had his mind gone completely blank. He immediately realized this with a stifled gasp, and glanced around, unable to identify the name of anything he saw.

Everything was a blank slate, and it stayed that way no matter what object he attempted to identify, tag, or name. First he saw a tree, but was unable to place what it was called and was forced to call it 'thing'.

"Dammit, what was this... thing called again? It's a plant, but... Why can't I remember?"

Then sprang the question in his head, 'who am I'? And Alois pondered this for a second, almost on the verge of a tantrum from forgetting something so simple. He remembered quite clearly that the name he had (whatever it was) wasn't his birth name (which he also couldn't remember), and stomped his foot in misery.

His mind hunted through his memories for his birth name, but he only came up with a jumble of letters m, h, a, and i.

"What was my name again? Dammit! ...I know it began with an 'L'..."

He walked onwards, pulling at his hair in denial, calling trees 'things' and the ground 'that' and fiercely restricting himself to the use of words such as 'I' or 'me' when he referred to himself.

He thought of Claude, but the man was identified as, 'that guy', and he thought of Hannah, but she was identified as 'that maid'. As he wrung his hands, he caught sight of his ring, and couldn't even remember the name of the jewelry upon his finger. He called it 'that accessory'.

Luckily, the wood wasn't a very vast one, and he eventually found the exit, dashing through with happiness as he embraced his memories full force.

My name is Alois Trancy. My butler is Claude Faustus. Hannah is my maid. Those are trees. That is dirt. This is a ring. I used to be Jim McCain.

No sooner had he briefly quizzed himself had he rammed right into the three bodies of the three knights that he was to meet on the Fourth Square.