Day 31 (Bonus) – Alice in Wonderland
A/N: Some of you may have wondered about the title "Thirty Times Three". Beyond the obvious (thirty days times three people), this is taken from a wonderfully whimsical rhyme I found in Alice in Wonderland:
Put cats in the coffee, and mice in the tea—
And welcome Queen Alice with thirty-times-three!
So, to round things off, here's a bonus chapter – my attempt to send Megan, Nate, and Carver through the looking-glass. Enjoy!
The antique looking-glass in the corner of Megan's room had always seemed perfectly ordinary. A nice size, to be sure, almost the height of a grown man, its frame beautifully gilded and ornamented. Her reflection in it had always been clear and true, and the room she could see inside it had been an exact replica of her own bedroom, with its flagstone floors and panelled walls, the big old chest under the window, and the huge four-poster bed with its purple velvet curtains. They had even had the occasional bit of special fun with that mirror, placing it right next to the bed and enjoying the view while they were making love.
Never in a million years would Megan have suspected it to be magical in nature. Not until that particular winter's day, right before First Day. Vigil's Keep was snowed in, with no way of entering or leaving, and still more snowflakes were falling from the sky, brushing softly against the windowpanes. Megan watched them dance, entranced by the whirling patterns.
"We're done for today." Nathaniel and Carver walked in, bringing a gust of cooler air with them. Their faces were ruddy from the cold and they looked tired, but happy. "I think we have enough wood for the bonfire tomorrow."
"It's about time," Megan pouted. "I was getting bored in here."
"Well, you could have joined us." Nathaniel embraced her from behind, grinning when she squealed at the touch of his cold hands. "Look at you, all pale and grumpy." He walked her over to the mirror and pointed at her reflection. "What you need is some time out in the snow, with a proper snowball fight to cheer you up."
"True." Carver joined them, a wide grin on his face. "So much fun."
"No, thanks." Megan yawned. "I was perfectly fine up here, dozing and dreaming, until the two of you showed up."
"Were you?" Nathaniel raised a suggestive eyebrow. "What were you dreaming about then?"
"Oh, this and that. Nothing but silly fantasies, really." She pointed at the mirror. "You know, when I was a kid, I used to pretend my mirror was a portal. I thought if I touched the glass it would turn all soft, like this… Maker! Did you see that?"
"What in Andraste's-" Nathaniel was staring at her hand, his face growing pale all of a sudden.
Because, at the spot where her finger was touching the glass, the firm surface had turned into a swirling mist, bright white like moonlight and oddly inviting.
"Don't touch it again, Meg, please-" Carver's voice was the last thing she heard, but it was too late already.
With a faint, whooshing noise, she passed through the glass and found herself on the other side, in a room exactly like the one she'd left, only everything was arranged the other way round. "What the-"
Before she could gather her wits, the surface of the mirror in front of her grew wobbly again and Nathaniel stepped through, followed by Carver.
"Megan!" Carver pulled her into a quick embrace. "There you are."
"I am." She freed herself gently of his arms and looked around her. "The question is: Where is there?"
When she reached out to touch the mirror again, it felt solid, cool, and smooth. No going back this way, it seems. I wonder if this place is really a mirror of our own world. Slowly, she approached the door. It was where she expected it but, when she opened it, there was no sign of her study. Instead, a large staircase wound its way downwards. Megan did her best to hold back but, like the mirror, the room beyond the door seemed to suck her in. She barely managed to hold on to Nathaniel's hand, pulling him and Carver with her as she floated down the stairs and toward a big panelled front door.
He had no choice but to follow her.
"Blight it, Megan!" Nathaniel's patience was wearing thin. "Can't you stay in one place for just one moment?"
"I'm afraid I can't." The look she gave him was wide-eyed with apprehension, and, when he looked down at himself, he realized why.
His leathers had disappeared and he was wearing what seemed to be a long red coat lined with ermine, with a large red heart pinned to his chest. And on his head… he reached up to find what was quite unmistakably a crown. "What-"
"Nate?" Carver sounded as shocked as he did. His own jerkin had made room for a coat with a curious red and blue pattern surrounding the same heart, and he was wearing an oddly shaped hat.
And Megan… Her long, stately dress matched his own coat, and she, too, had a crown on her head. And her expression was as baffled as his own. "We look like-"
"Cards. Playing cards. Like the set we use for Diamondback." Carver shook his head. "The Queen, the King, the Knave. Reminds me of the nursery rhyme."
Nathaniel nodded slowly. "The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts…" he began to recite.
"And the Knave stole them, and the King beat him for it." Megan laughed, but there was an edge of hysteria to her voice. "Let's hope we don't have to re-enact the thing."
"What is this, some kind of dream?" Carver sounded utterly bewildered.
They passed the door at this point and the odd, floating motion stopped. To their relief, they felt solid ground under their feet again; a well-kept lawn, to be precise. They were in a large, sunny garden, not a snowflake in sight, and a garden table was set for three. It looked inviting, with various cakes and pastries arranged on pretty plates with matching cups. All of a sudden, Nathaniel felt parched and ravenously hungry. A bit too sudden, maybe… He took a closer look at the pattern on the cups and managed to make out the words Drink Me, written in a flowery script.
"Maker, I'm thirsty." Megan reached for the pot and poured a cup of tea, raising it to her lips before he could stop her.
"Meg, don't!" Carver moved to intercept her, but he, too, was too late. "What if it's poison?"
"It tastes fine. I don't think-" Megan fell silent, staring at her hand in sudden fear. "What's going on?"
"Maker!" Nathaniel watched in helpless horror as she began shrinking before his very eyes, not shrivelling up like a dried corpse, but growing smaller and smaller, until she was only slightly bigger than a squirrel.
"Meg!" Carver dropped to his knees, reaching out for her with a trembling hand.
The dress and crown had shrunk with her, making her look like a lifelike, very expensive doll. And yet, it was Megan, without a doubt. A very confused Megan, judging by the look on her face.
"What is this place?" Nathaniel did his best to fight back the growing sense of panic. "How can this be?"
To his surprise, Megan remained more or less calm. "I don't know. But it could be worse, I guess."
"Worse?" He went down on his knees as well, reaching out to run a careful fingertip along her tiny jaw. "How much worse?"
"Well, there could be monsters or bandits. Or predators, I guess. Oh Maker!" Megan almost jumped into his lap as a large tabby cat appeared under the table.
Nathaniel swallowed. She felt so fragile in his hands, and the thought of what the cat could have done to her without him to protect her was more than scary. This is not as droll as it seems.
"Where did that cat come from?" Carver sounded even shakier than he felt. "It wasn't here a moment before."
"Of course I wasn't." Maybe it shouldn't have surprised them to hear the cat speak, considering what had happened earlier, but they still jumped at the sound.
"Are we all going mad?" Nathaniel realized he'd begun to sweat.
"That is very probable." The cat nodded sagely. "You see, we're all mad here, your Majesty. I'm mad, and the three of you must be mad to have come here. The Queen of Spades is most certainly mad."
"There's a Queen of Spades?" Megan interjected.
"Why is she mad?" Carver blurted out at the same time.
"Of course there is a Queen of Spades." The cat raised an eyebrow. "If there's a Queen of Hearts, it stands to reason, there's a Queen of Spades. And, yes, she is quite mad – she had at least twenty heads chopped off this morning alone."
Nathaniel closed his eyes, counting silently to ten. Not a dream. A nightmare. Yet, it wouldn't do to panic. "Meg. We need to get out of here. As soon as you're back to your normal size-"
"Ah, you drank the tea." The cat grinned. "Well, how about you have some cake to go with it."
Following this cryptic remark, it started to fade, vanishing slowly, until it seemed the only thing visible was its wide, nasty grin.
Megan gave Nathaniel a hopeful look. "You think it's telling the truth?"
He shrugged. "There's no way of knowing. All we can do is try."
"But what if the cake does something even worse?" Carver was trembling, too, he saw. "What if it kills you?"
Megan shrugged. "That's a risk I'll have to take. I can hardly stay like this. Besides," she tugged on Nathaniel's coat, motioning for him to put her up on the table. "I'm hungry."
They watched as she swallowed a tiny piece of cake, then breathed a collective sigh of relief when she began to grow again. Soon, she was back to her normal size.
"Megan." They both embraced her, shaking with emotion.
"I'm still hungry and thirsty." Carver's glance wandered back to the table, as if he was drawn there by some unseen attraction, yet he turned away with a shudder. "But I'm not having any of that. What now?"
"No idea." Megan stretched. "It would seem wise to avoid the Queen of Spades, I think."
"True." Nathaniel felt his lips set in a grim line. "Though that may not be possible."
They made their way through the garden, sticking to the paths, which were beautifully raked, their borders well-maintained. The flower-beds were full of daisies and lilies, vibrant bright flowers that seemed almost unnaturally luscious. Megan wasn't even surprised when a pink rose bush extended a branch straight across the path to stop them.
"Halt!"
She hadn't expect the bush to talk, though. On the other hand, if there were talking cats in this place, talking flowers weren't all that weird.
"I strongly advise you to walk the other way." The rose bush had a high, chirpy voice.
"Why?" Maker, it was getting hard to remain patient. "Is this path dangerous?"
"I daresay it is." The bush chuckled, and that was the strangest thing yet. "Why don't you join us here in our nice, soft bed? Much nicer than the gravel."
"No, thanks." Nathaniel raised a hand to push the branch aside, but it withdrew when he touched it, like a mimosa.
"Suit yourself, then." If the bush could have shrugged, it probably would have. Creepy.
They walked on, doing their best to avoid trouble but, as they turned a corner, they stepped out onto another expanse of lawn, and this one was crowded with people. If you could call them people. Megan swallowed when she realized that almost a full deck of cards was assembled here. There were spades and hearts and clubs and diamonds; knaves wearing the same odd headwear as Carver; aces with big round bellies; and all kinds of numbers from each of the four suits. There was only one queen, though, and one king.
The Queen of Spades was dressed exactly like herself, except where Megan's dress was red, hers was black, and the symbol on her chest was the familiar spade. Her hair was black, too, and her eyes dark like onyx, her pretty, heart-shaped face very pale. In her right hand, she had a long, slim sceptre set with gems arranged to represent spades, clubs, hearts and diamonds. The King of Spades was lingering in the background, apparently unwilling to leave his flower-wreathed throne, but the Queen came forward without delay.
"You! There!" Ignoring the two men, she addressed herself exclusively to Megan. "How dare you! I thought I'd gotten rid of all the impostors."
"What do you mean, impostors?" Megan frowned. "Surely, there should be four kings, and four queens."
"There's only one king. And I am his queen." The Queen's voice grew shrill. "And you have stolen one of my subjects."
At a wave of her hand, two guards in uniforms decorated with clubs appeared right next to Carver. His hand went straight to where his sword would have been, but in vain. Even so, he would have been able to take them under normal circumstances. But their touch seemed to weaken him somehow, and he cursed in frustration as they took hold of him. Megan felt the bile rise in her throat as they dragged him over to a giant golden bird-cage and shoved him in. He was on his feet in an instant, grabbing the bars and shaking them, but to no avail.
"Oh no, you won't." Megan drew herself up to her full height, raising her chin. "He's not yours. He's mine."
The Queen of Spades smiled maliciously. "Are you challenging me, my dear? Others have done so, and regretted it. What's to stop me from having my guards arrest you and having you beheaded?"
Megan shook her head, slowly and deliberately. "I don't think you can do that." Ignoring the Queen's angry exhale, she went on. "If you could, you would have done so already. Look, I'm a queen, just as much as you are. I think if you want to get rid of me, you have to beat me in a fair fight. Am I right?"
"True," the Queen hissed, "but you challenged me, so I get to choose the weapons."
"What about me?" Nathaniel was clenching his teeth, struggling to hold back.
The Queen of Spades favoured him with an icy smile. "You will keep out of this, same as my dear husband."
The next moment, Nathaniel was frozen in place, raging helplessly, while the Queen turned away and motioned for a guard to bring her a wooden box.
"Here, my dear. These are the weapons I choose." She opened the box with a flourish.
Inside, there were four long, slim daggers, beautifully wrought, their hilts inlaid with hearts, clubs, spades, and diamonds respectively. Megan bit back a relieved sigh. If this fight was going to involve blades, the Queen might find herself at a disadvantage. Yet, she knew she had to remain cautious.
The Queen of Spades picked the dagger carrying her own symbol, and pushed the one with the hearts over to Megan, then smiled coolly at her. "Take one more. Your choice."
Megan hesitated for a mere heartbeat before she reached for the diamond. There was a brief murmur from the crowd, and the Queen of Spades' eyes narrowed for a heartbeat. Seems I chose well.
A trumpet sounded and Megan and the Queen stepped into a circle formed by the spectators. Carver grabbed the bars of his cage harder, but they wouldn't give an inch. They might be gilded, but they were as solid as good steel. He felt so helpless, but it had to be worse for Nathaniel. He glanced over at his lover, his chest constricting painfully at the look of despair on Nathaniel's face.
The Queen of Spades put aside her crown and sceptre, then untied the wide cloak she wore and handed it to an attendant. Underneath, she wore tight black leggings and a white blouse. Megan followed suit, revealing the same attire except for her leggings, which were a deep, dark red.
They didn't waste a second before the fight began. It quickly became apparent that the daggers were magical, their properties depending on the symbol they bore. Megan's heart dagger flashed fire whenever it connected, while the spade seemed to freeze whatever it touched. The club carried some kind of elemental damage, while the diamond fizzled with an electric charge. Carver groaned inwardly. This had the potential to become nasty very soon.
The two were almost evenly matched too, but, as he watched their moves, he realized one important detail. The Queen of Spades, while graceful and quick, was utterly predictable. The same kind of feint drew the same reaction every time. It didn't take Megan long to work this out. At the Queen's next attack, she pretended to be too slow to evade it and dropped to her knees with a cry of pain. When the Queen pressed her advantage, she moved, fast as lightning, and buried her dagger deep in her opponent's heart.
The Queen went down without a sound, not a drop of blood visible on her dress. The King of Spades gave one quick cry of pain, then slumped to the ground as well. Without missing a beat, Megan picked up her crown and put it on her head, then reached for the sceptre. Two guards put her cloak around her shoulders.
The door of the cage opened, swinging soundlessly on its hinges, and Carver jumped out. Nathaniel's paralysis seemed to have worn off, too. Pushing aside several of the card people, Carver rushed over to him. In the meantime, Megan had raised her sceptre to the skies. Her voice sounded oddly mechanic as she intoned a verse.
"The King and the Queen of Spades, they lie dead.
I've a sceptre in hand, I've a crown on my head.
Let the Looking-Glass creatures, whatever they be
Come dine with the king, the knave, and with me!"
Carver exchanged a worried glance with Nathaniel. "What's happening to her?"
"I don't know." Nathaniel shivered. "But I don't like it."
There was no time to say more, though, because a table appeared from nowhere in the middle of the lawn, a large oaken table, laden to the brim with food and wine. Megan took her seat in a high-backed chair and Nathaniel and Carver were ushered to the places on her left and right. And then, everyone burst into song, a long elaborate ballad, with every verse ending in the same two lines.
"Put cats in the coffee, and mice in the tea—
And welcome Queen Megan with thirty-times-three!"
Carver threw a suspicious glance at the cups, but it seemed this time it was just a figure of speech. The strange lyrics hardly seemed to register with Megan, though. Her face was very pale, and her eyes very dark, and somehow hazy and distant.
"We have to do something," Carver mouthed at Nathaniel, who nodded back, his expression grim.
When a servant took a deep bow before Megan, they glanced at each other, then reached out at the same time and firmly took hold of her wrists.
"Megan." Nathaniel's voice was rough with emotion. "You've got to snap out of this."
"Now." Carver added, hoping desperately it would be enough.
Megan blinked once, twice, and then shook herself out of the trance. "This is madness," she muttered. Taking a deep breath, she raised her sceptre. "If I'm the Queen of this place," she announced in a high, clear voice, "then I hereby order you to take the three of us back to where we came from."
A hush fell over the garden as the conversations died down. Everyone was staring at Megan, but she remained firm. "Go on. That's a royal command."
"Your Majesty." The Knave of Spades bowed deeply. "If you would kindly step onto the table."
Carver's head was spinning but, at Megan's signal, he climbed up next to her, glancing at the large soup tureen in the middle of the table. There was no soup in it, he saw, just a whirling fog that looked faintly familiar.
"This is your way out." The Knave bowed politely, gesturing at the tureen.
It didn't make sense, but then, very little had done so in the past few hours.
"All right." Megan gestured at Carver. "You first. Then Nate. I'll go last."
"Meg, you-" He felt numbed by sudden fear, but she gave him a quick shove.
"Now." Her eyes were green and clear again, and there was a hint of a smile around her lips. "Trust me."
He took a step forward, and then everything went dark.
When he woke, he was in his bed, naked and shivering. The fire must have gone out at some point in the night, and Megan and Nathaniel were huddled together under the blanket, breathing softly. Carver's muscles were tense like ropes and he was so cold. Grabbing a corner of the blanket, he wiggled under it right next to them, grateful for their warmth, glad the nightmare was over.
Megan grunted when she felt his icy feet, blinking sleepily at him. "Carver. Where have you been? You know, I had the oddest dream..."