Chapter 12
"'Mirror, mirror, what do you see?'
'Reflections of the sky and land and thee.'
'Mirror, mirror, what do you show?'
'Reflections of the shadows from which tears flow...'"
.oOo.
Early the following morning, and after a quick breakfast at the inn, the Cheshire cat led the way through the town of Loar toward the train station. The station was actually a small wooden building upon a small wooden platform that rested beside open train tracks. There were several travelers waiting for the train; a goat dressed in a finely tailored coat, a man whose clothing looked to be made of white paper, a young lady who carried a bright yellow parasol and a badger who was shifting about nervously on his feet.
Mad Helen was dancing in her usual manner behind the Hatter, she looked as if the terror from the previous night had been completely forgotten. Perhaps it was for the time being, the day was promising to be a bright one. The raven had taken a spot upon the Hatter's right shoulder, its keen eye watching Helen as she sang an eerie new rhyme that sounded similar in tune to Baa, Baa, Black Sheep.
"Four tickets to Bayar Malay please," said the Hatter to the old man behind the counter of the ticket stand. The old man wore overly large glasses, his eyes resembling that of an insect's. At the sound of the Hatter's voice, the old man glanced up at the new travelers and his eyes large eyes grew even larger.
"Four tickets? Four? Are you sure about that? One of you is heading in the wrong direction. Three tickets would suffice for the lot of you."
The Hatter could only stare at the old man, wondering what on earth he meant by that statement. One of them was heading in the wrong direction? He didn't specify which one was heading in the wrong direction and why it mattered in the amount of tickets they were to receive. The old ticket handler said nothing more to them as he pulled out three tickets and handed them to the Hatter. The Hatter handed several pieces of copper in return and bid the old man good day. The old man studied the group with keen interest as the Hatter made to stand on the platform. He hesitated but called out the Hatter, his large eyes flicking over to the smiling form of Helen, who was now humming as she glided toward the edge of the platform.
"Watch yourself! Once you pass the fourth brook, your direction will take a turn. Keep your guard over her."
The Hatter glanced back at the old man, the confused look on his face growing the moment the ticket handler slammed the shutters to the window shut. His lime green eyes flicked over to Helen, who was bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. She was looking in the opposite direction from where the train was supposed to be coming, an expectant look on her face. The Hatter could not help but feel a bit of dread at the coming journey.
The train had arrived however at precisely eight o'clock and they boarded the train with little fuss. Helen was continuously humming as she kept a firm grip on the back of the Hatter's worn coat. They made their way through the tiny hall, passing compartments that were filled with various passengers that ranged from many different types of animals to your basic humans. They finally found an empty compartment toward the middle of the train and the Hatter ushered Helen through, who was followed by Chessur and the raven.
The moment the Hatter slid the compartment door behind him, he turned around to find Helen sliding the window open. She sat down and placed her elbows on the edge of the open window to stare at the sight of the townspeople going about their business. The Hatter was struck with how quiet she was as she gazed out the window, the black feathers of her top hat stirring lightly in a passing breeze. Chessur had taken the spot beside her, his tail lightly twitching against her thigh. Erom the raven had perched on the luggage rack above them, ruffling its feathers and moving from one foot to another, settling itself down.
The Hatter had taken the seat across from Helen and studied her as the train let out a piercing whistle and began to move. Helen's dark eyes grew wide and a bright smile lit her face as she suddenly leaned out the window and began to wave frantically to the townspeople. "Goodbye!"
He smiled at that and his smile grew the moment she looked at him and beckoned him to the window. "Tarrant, we have to say goodbye! Who knows when we will see them again?" The clarity was in her eyes again but the Hatter could not help but feel as if she were somewhere other than here. The look in her eyes was distant at best, not quite focusing on his pale features. The Hatter didn't say anything to her though, afraid that he would break the beautifully innocent look on her face. Instead, he moved beside her and pulled his top hat off, his mad orange locks catching in the passing wind. He smiled at the woman beside him and reached a hand out the window to wave goodbye to the townspeople of Loar.
The townspeople stared at the mad couple who were crying out goodbye to them as the train began to pick up in momentum. They were crazy, there was no doubt of that, but several of the townspeople waved in return, rather glad that there were some people who remembered when it was proper to say goodbye...
.oOo.
The journey through the land of Queast was quiet at best, there were three times exactly that the train had to jump over the large rivers that separated the land into a checkerboard pattern. Helen had fallen asleep after the last jump and she had curled up on the seat, her precious hat placed safely beside her head. Her mad dark curls were going in every direction and the Hatter felt a sense of deja vu strike him as he studied the woman. She looked so peaceful and innocent. The burnt side of her face was hidden from view and only the smooth olive tone of her undamaged side could be seen. Her lips were parted gently, her breath easing gently past.
A small smile appeared on his lips as he settled back in his seat, his lime green eyes studying Helen as she slept on. He folded his hands within the folds of his worn coat, the gentle motion of the train lulling him into a sense of peace. Soon he too fell asleep, not noticing that his old friend was floating beside the open window, looking out to the horizon. His grin was gone and a look of worry was set upon his feline features. The feeling of unease was growing the closer they got to the fourth brook... He wondered what danger awaited them this time...
.oOo.
The fire burned, the thick black smoke rising toward the dark sky.
He slowly made his way to the center of town, his eyes taking in the sight of what was left of the Hightopp Clan's home. His home...
His face was stricken with pain, his long and wild red curls resembling the flames around him, tossing in the heated wind that blew. He took one step and then another, his light green eyes moving from the sight of burnt bodies and rubble...
His gaze focused on the sight of a lone top hat on the ground. It was his...
Slightly charred and parts of it still glowing with embers, he picked it up from the scorched ground and placed it on his head. He could feel the sadness and anger warring within him but he remained slightly calm. He had not seen any signs of his sister nor of her amid the destruction. They might have made it out...
The pain he had kept so well at bay did not surface until he saw the charred form of a small green top hat on the ground, pink flowers etched upon its visible surface. Several feet away was a similar hat but the shade of it was burgundy. Beside it was a long pink scarf, flowers etched beautifully just above the fringed edges...It was hers... Moira's friend had loved that scarf...
Moira...
What happened to her?
He was afraid to search for his sister, afraid to find something he didn't want to see. He was afraid of the fact that his sister was gone... He was afraid she might be gone... He had promised her a dance. Though she had been younger than him, he could not push aside the tender feelings that had grown for her. He had been hoping to appeal to her mother to court her when she was of age this year...
Now... now...
"It's my fault..."
He turned in surprise, catching sight of a young girl standing amid the flames. Her arms, her legs, even a part of her face, was raw with fresh burns while her tattered burgundy and purple dress barely hung on her petite frame.. Her long dark curls tossed about her face, the olive skin blemished by the angry redness of her burns.
"Please forgive me... It's all my fault... If I hadn't come here... If Mother had not wished to escape our fate..."
"Helen..." His voice sounded strange to his ears, the name even stranger. This was not her name... Her name was as unique as she was. This was her... His little artist... What was her name?
"Tarrant, I'm so sorry..." She fell to her knees amid the flames, her dark eyes focusing on the sight of the green top hat with the embroidered pink flowers. "Moira... Have you forgotten her?" She cast her pain filled gaze his way and he felt his heart clench at the sight.
Memories...
Muchness...
Moira...
His sister...
"You promised me a dance... Will you keep your promise?"
Helen, the girl who he knew now as Helen, pointed toward the scarf that lay on the scorched ground between them. It was hers, that much he remembered. He moved toward the scarf and picked it up. It was one of the few things that seemed to have avoided the flames that had devoured everything else. He held the scarf against his cheek to feel the smooth fabric before reaching up to tie it around his top hat.
"I will my sweet artist... I will keep my promise..." He looked at her once more and could only swallow back the tightness of his throat. She was no longer there, nothing more than a figment of what had been. "I will remember Moira and I will remember you..." He closed his eyes against the sight of the flames, knowing that this was nothing more than a memory long forgotten. "I will consider the letter M and hope it brings me back to you..."
.oOo.
The train had jumped the fourth brook but it did not land back upon the tracks. The compartment rolled, tossing its occupants with it and the world went dark...
The soft sound of laughter could be heard and then the laughter turned to cries...
The Hatter opened his eyes and sat up from his sprawled position. Helen was no longer in her seat, her top hat had fallen to the floor. He looked around, catching sight of the raven now perched on the edge of the seat that Helen had abandoned. His heart began to race as the ebony bird fluffed its feathers and flew out the open doorway. He struggled to his feet, reaching down to pick up Helen's hat, when he caught sight of the scene beyond the compartment window. He looked outside to a black and gray world, the sky was heavy with thick clouds that shifted and swirled, their colors ranging from blood red, stormy gray to black as shadows. What in Underland was going on?
"Tarrant, we must hurry!" The Hatter whirled around to catch sight of the Cheshire cat floating behind him, his grin nowhere to be seen. "Helen has run on ahead toward the engine, there was something chasing after her."
"Chess, where are we?" The Hatter did not wait for a response as he hurried out of the compartment and toward the front of the train. He noticed that the other passengers were no where to be seen and the train itself looked as if it had a grown deteriorated. The bright red rug that had been on the hallway floor was now charred in places, the color of it now resembled clotted blood...
"The Looking-Glass world..."
The Hatter paused in mid-step and glanced back at his old friend, his eyes narrowing in confusion. He had heard that before from somewhere... Chessur caught the look on the Hatter's face and floated past him, his luminous green eyes scanning the compartments nearby. "The raven had mentioned it when Helen had been asleep. It had said it had been searching for Helen for years within this place." Chessur glanced back at the man and his ears laid back against his head, true fear showing on his feline face. "We'd best be careful. This place is unlike anything in Underland..."
The Hatter said nothing in response, he simply rushed past the cat and continued on his way toward the front of the train. He ignored the sight of the rotted wood and framework of the train, he ignored the sight of what appeared to be blood streaked across the windows of the rail car. He continued forward in search of Helen, a crying voice in the back of his mind screaming at him that he had to find her.
Memory... Moira... his sister... The crying voice belonged to Moira...
Just as he neared the engine of the train, it gave a sudden lurch forward and the Hatter stumbled back before regaining his footing. He moved quickly through the rail cars, sliding door after door as his steps grew into a run. He was vaguely aware of the Cheshire cat following behind him but the sight of a woman standing in a damaged part of the train stopped him in his tracks.
Helen stood on the edge of what was left of the front rail car of the train. It looked as if something had torn the engine of the train completely off. All that was left was a few compartments and the glass to the windows was shattered upon the floor. Helen's tangled curls were blowing every which way in the rising breeze, the train was moving perilously down the tracks with nothing to guide it. How Helen stood at the edge of this, the Hatter could not say, but she kept her stance. She brandished what appeared to be a shovel that had been used to place the coal into the engine of the train. She was using it as a weapon in a fighting stance the Hatter was very familiar with...
"No shadows!" Her voice was ripped away by the fierce wind. Her elbows were tucked back, the shovel moving higher in what was a defensive move if it had been a sword. "You will stay away! I am not afraid!"
The Hatter wondered what it was that she spoke to when the answer made itself known. A creature unlike anything the Hatter had ever seen was floating down in front of Helen. It had no discernible face upon its pale, white and bald head but a large gaping mouth could be seen from which blue flames were visible. It had long arms and long fingers that clenched every so often, looking eager to grab the woman. It wore nothing more than a long black dress with tattered edges, a silver spade visible upon its chest. It let out an unearthly shriek as it floated back and lunged toward Helen.
"Nevar more!" Helen cried out as she dodged the creature's reaching grasp and swung the shovel toward it. The thin side of the shovel had managed to lodge itself into the neck of the creature and it let out an terrible howl. She pulled the shovel out of the creature and backed away a few feet, gripping the shovel closer. "Hatter!"
The Hatter had moved before she had even finished saying his name. He had rushed in front of Helen, pulling her out of harm's way just as the creature raked its long fingered claws across his chest. He gritted his teeth to suppress the pain, an odd strangled sound still slipping past his lips. He kept Helen behind him as the blood oozed from his wounds and stained his shirt. The sound of a heavy metal clunking against the floor caught his hearing and he felt arms wrap firmly around his waist. His hand automatically reached for the hands that were braced against his stomach, the feel of familiar gloves calming the panic he had felt. The creature had backed away, the sight of Chessur appearing and disappearing around it was enough of a distraction for them.
He could feel Helen urging him back, the words that slipped past her lips unlike any rhyme or riddle he had heard so far. "The Night, Nevar more! The weaving of Dream and Night to pass the river's edge! Between the Lion and the Unicorn is where the shadow plays!""
Erom had appeared in haze of gray-black smoke in front of the Hatter then and opened its beak, though no sound emerged. A heartbeat passed and then another, the creature was trying its best to kill the Cheshire cat but it was not quick enough. The grinning cat was toying with it, fading from sight just as the creature was about to get him. While this was going on a black form had appeared from the exposed roof of the rail car and landed between the distracted creature and the injured Hatter and Helen. It wore a thick black cloak that shivered in the wind before it pushed back its hood and revealed itself to be a man. A black helmet covered his face from view and he brandished a sword that was nearly as long as his arm. It's silver blade almost glinted in the hazy, dark gray that surrounded them as he lifted it and struck the creature through the chest.
It let out a hideous cry as the man in black pulled the sword up, slicing the creature from the heart and up through its head. A spray of dark violet blood erupted and the creature twitched in agony as its body slumped to the edge of the rail car only to fall over. The distinct sound of its squished and mangled body parts getting caught in the wheels of the train could be heard and then nothing...
The silence that followed the strange encounter was broken the moment the man pulled off his helmet, revealing a rugged face whose russet tones indicated he was not of Underland descent. His long black hair whipped in the wind as he turned to look at the raven, his dark eyes glinting with a hint of madness of his own.
"Took ye long enough ya blasted pigeon. I've been stuck here for ages! Have ya found the young mistress?"
Erom ruffled its feathers, an offended look appearing on its face. It turned its back to the man and flew toward Helen, who was holding tightly onto the Hatter with a very protective look on her face. The raven settled itself on her shoulder and smoothed its feathers, looking more at peace now that the danger was gone. The man turned his dark eyes to the mad couple, focusing on the Hatter for a moment before flicking to Helen. A strange look swept across his features as he studied the woman, his sword falling with a clatter to the floor.
"My lady... Ye..." He took a step forward but paused as the Hatter pulled Helen's arms closer around his wounded chest, pulling her closer against his back. His usual lime green eyes had now changed to a fierce shade of orange. The shadows that were smudged under his eyes was a clear sign that the Hatter was in his angered state and the man in black recognized this instantly. He flicked his gaze to the woman and he slowly got down on one knee. "My lady... Forgive me but... Ye had grown so..."
"Mirror, Mirror, what do you show?" Helen snuggled against the Hatter, her dark curls appearing to tangle with his own mad, red waves. The Hatter appeared to relax considerably but his eyes retained their orange tint. "The Night that has come to stop Blood's flow..."
He cast his gaze to the raven and a scowl appeared on his russet features. "She is still split apart! How long has she been lost!"
Erom winced at this and shook its head, beating its wings rapidly against itself. The man seemed to keep count of the beats because the man's scowl grew worse. "That many years in the Upperland? Ye know how Time is up there! She's been lost for years in this world and now this!" He had gotten to his feet by this time and ignored the bird as he focused his gaze on the Hatter. He studied the man for a moment and grew slightly calm. "She has a piece of her shadow back though. I believe I have ye to thank for protecting her where I could not Master Hightopp."
The Hatter blinked in surprise and looked at the other man, the orange in his eyes fading completely. "How do you know of my name?"
The man studied the Hatter for a few moments before his scowl returned in full force. "Ye have to be pulling me leg..." He studied the Hatter a moment more before he picked up his sword and sheathed it. "He's mad... Completely and utterly mad..." He focused his gaze on the raven and clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. "What happened out there?"
"I think the most pressing matter is how do we get out of here." The Chessur floated down behind Helen, his long tail wrapping around her neck as it liked to do. The man in black studied the cat before casting his gaze to the sight of the broken part of the rail car. The scene was flying past them at an alarming rate, the sight of a large river looming close. The tracks were twisted at an odd angle and broke off where the train was supposed to jump the brook.
The Hatter had no idea what was happening, who this man was, or why it was that he seemed to know the raven and Helen. He only knew that they were in a strange and distorted world on a runaway train that was nearing a large brook at a rapid pace. He swallowed back the panic that was tightening around his throat as Helen gently kissed the side of his neck, her gloved hands slick with his blood. "The Night shall break through the mirror's gaze and Summer will flow through the cracks..."
He had no idea what she was speaking of nor did he care to understand at the moment. He could only focus on the feel of her lips against his skin and of the tingling rush that followed suit. He tried to recall the feeling of his dream, the tender feelings that Helen had awoken in him. She had meant something to his sister and to him... He couldn't grasp it though... Something was blocking the memory...
"I've been waiting for this day."The man in black broke through the Hatter's thoughts and he noticed the man was bracing himself for something.
"Waiting for what day?" he asked as the train continued on its fast pace down the tracks.
The man glanced back at the Hatter and smirked in response, his long dark hair whipping in the wind. "Daylight. Get ready!"
"What-" The Hatter couldn't finish his question because the train had jumped the fifth brook at that moment and rolled. All of the occupants were tossed like rag dolls before they were flung from the damaged rail car and fell headfirst through the surface of the brook...
The crying turned to singing and soon the laughter began to pick up again...
.oOo.
The Hatter had no idea where he was or how he had managed to find himself laying face first in a field of clovers. He groaned as he struggled to pick himself up but winced in the process, the gashes on his chest a sure sign that what he had gone through had been very real. He reached up to find his top hat still set firmly on his head and the long sashes of the pink scarf still tied securely. It wouldn't do to lose either of them...
He moved slowly into a kneeling position, wincing with every movement as he tried to get a look at his surroundings. He was met with the sight of dark and tangled curls as a pair of arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He fell back in surprise, the familiar weight of the person who had accosted him easing his surprise. A smile appeared as he wrapped his arms around Helen's waist and pulled her closer, ignoring his own wounds.
She pulled away to look into his eyes and her smile grew, she had acquired her hat again. It must have dropped somewhere close for her to have found it and it was set firmly upon her mad dark curls where it belonged. Her fingers were brushing away the mad waves of his orange locks and tucking them behind his ear. "I really need a codfish now! The truth is crowding my thoughts I just have to write it down!"
The Hatter laughed, his heart swelling with happiness at the madness of Helen, a madness he was quickly realizing he longed to be his own. He ignored those tender feelings for now, his bandaged fingers quickly caressing the damaged flesh of her cheek. Her eyes had fluttered closed at the feel of his fingers and he could feel her relaxing against him. "I don't have a codfish..." His voice was nothing more than a husky burr and he could feel Helen trembling. A pleased smile danced across his pale features. "I could lend you my lips... They will help to speak the truth crowding that beautiful head of yours..."
A soft sigh had slipped past Helen's lips and the Hatter pulled her face down to his, his lips brushing softly against hers. The attraction from before ignited at the feel of her flesh and he quickly pressed his lips back against hers, his hearing catching the sound of her soft moan. His madness was forgotten quickly by this sound and her own seemed to have disappeared just for the sake of feeling their kiss... It was heaven...
My little artist...
The thought had surfaced without hesitation from his memory and he focused on it, trying to tie the memory of his dream with what he felt now. However, the feel of Helen's warm lips was ripped from his grasp and his eyes snapped open, his temper rising quickly. He found a bewildered looking Helen in the arms of the man in black, whose dark eyes were shooting daggers at the Hatter. The Hatter struggled to his feet, his movements rather stiff thanks to the bloody gashes on his chest.
"Master Hightopp, I would appreciate if ye would refrain from giving into whatever lust that ye feel for my lady." He pulled Helen behind him then, his broad frame hiding the woman from view.
His lady?
The anger was back quick as the Hatter took a step forward, a challenging look appearing in his mad eyes. "Your lady? I do believe you presume too much sir. She does not know you." The guttural growl of his native burr set the man in black in a defensive stance, his hand reaching down for his sword while his other kept Helen behind him.
"My lady may not remember me but I will be damned before I allow the likes of a madman like ye to take advantage of her."
"I would never!" The Hatter took another step forward, wishing fervently that he had his own blade with him. He would bring this man down for even dare thinking that he would harm his Helen in any way...
"Enough Gared," a husky voice called over the field of clovers and both men turned to see a woman dressed in a simple yellow gown gliding her way toward them. Her long golden curls were pulled back into a bun at the base of her neck though a few still sprung loose to dance about her heart shaped face. Her creamy skin was flushed from the noonday sun as she made her way to them. The man in black was quick to release his hold on his sword, his entire focus on the lady in yellow that had glided to a stop before them. On her shoulder, Erom the raven was looking as cool as a cucumber while the Cheshire cat floated behind her, grinning from ear to ear, his luminous eyes on the Hatter.
The lady smiled at the man in black and reached out to place a calming hand against his cheek. "Gared, please release dear Helen. She wants very much to be near her protector." The man in black, whose name appeared to be Gared, blinked in response to the lady's request before he glanced back at his mistress.
Helen's dark eyes were indeed focused on that of the Hatter, the yearning on her olive toned face made no mistake that she was eager to be free. She had not struggled against the man, she seemed to trust him, but it was quite obvious she felt more at ease with her Hatter. With a reluctant sigh, Gared released his hold on Helen, who quickly skirted around the man's broad frame and rushed to the Hatter.
The moment her arms had wrapped around his waist the Hatter had returned the embrace, his pale fingers winding themselves in her tangled dark curls. He ignored the stinging pain that erupted from the contact of her against his wounds. This was where she was most safe and he intended to make sure she would remain where she wanted to be most. To hell with any injuries he had, the pleasure of feeling her in his arms was worth it...
"Goodness that is a sweet sight," said the lady in yellow, her dark eyes sparkling at the sight of the mad couple embracing. The Hatter cast his electric gaze to the lady, all hint of his temper gone from his pale face but the suspicion still lingered.
The lady saw the question in the Hatter's eyes and a bright smile touched her creamy features. She gave a graceful curtsy, the hint of cleavage that could be seen quickly catching Gared's focus. The amused look Chessur's face was enough, the man in black appeared to have a soft spot for the lady in yellow...
The lady rose from her curtsy, a sly smile on her pink lips as she placed a graceful hand upon her chest. She seemed to very much aware of Gared's focus on her but she did not acknowledge it. She kept her gaze on the mad couple before her, her golden curls stirring in the rising breeze. "I do believe you have had quite a bit of a journey on the way to meet me. I do apologize for that." She took a step closer, her eyes focused on the Hatter's very intense gaze. "I am Alyiona of Queast... It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Tarrant of the Hightopp clan."
