“I know, I know,” he sighed. “Did I take unnecessary risks as an Alyssian? Did I put myself in harm’s way because I cared less about my own life after Redd’s coup? Probably. What did my life matter in a
universe that allowed Black Imagination to win?” “It mattered,” she whispered.
Dodge shook his head, uncertain. “That’s what’s funny-as in, not funny at alclass="underline" I was unnecessarily risking my life but I had vowed to live in order to kill him.”
They had come to a series of rooms whose familiarity struck Alyss mute. Bibwit had not shown her these rooms, which were a re-creation of her mother’s private quarters in the former Heart Palace.
“I’m told the architects meant for these rooms to serve as a sort of shrine,” Dodge explained, “a place where you could commune with your mother, if you ever desired her guidance.”
A noble intention, and yet, the last time she was in these rooms… I never saw my mother alive again.
“If it is Redd,” Dodge said quietly, “if she has returned…I don’t know how much control I’ll have over myself.”
Alyss tried to sound reasonable, as if whatever Dodge chose to do wasn’t of the greatest importance to her. “You could let me deal with them and not get involved. I can protect you-from them, from your own worst impulses. Whatever power I have is nothing if I can’t use it to keep safe those who…mean the most to me.”
“You protect me?” he laughed. “Alyss, your responsibilities as queen make it necessary for you to keep yourself out of harm’s way whenever possible.”
She started to protest.
“Yes, yes, you’re a warrior queen, absolutely,” he said. “But I think even Bibwit would agree when I say, just because you personally can defeat an enemy doesn’t mean that you always should. The queendom can’t afford to see you injured or worse. Besides, you have card soldiers and chessmen more than willing to engage in battle for you. And if card soldiers and chessmen aren’t enough…” his voice sounded choked, like something was stuck in his throat, “…my life might not have mattered to me, Alyss, but
yours always has.”
Did he just say that? Did he…?
“A lot of men would be intimidated by a warrior queen, never mind one as intelligent and powerful as you are,” Dodge went on. “But I know that you wish you didn’t always have to be strong. You wish you could let someone else be the strong one for a change, someone who could support and comfort you. I might not have your powers of imagination, Alyss, but let that person be me. Let me protect you, always and forever, no matter who attacks the queendom-Redd or anyone else.”
“Dodge,” Alyss said, putting a hand to the parallel scars on his cheek, that brand left so long ago by The Cat. She pressed her lips against each of them-four delicate kisses. When she pulled away, he was smiling.
“I have to check in on a couple of guards,” he said. “Wait for me?”
She nodded, watched him stride in among the plush couches and oversized pillows that furnished the first of her mother’s replicated rooms, a room heavy with the past but now the site of an overwhelming present. With a last happy look at her, Dodge slipped through a door in the far wall.
His ears stiff with alarm, the veins in his skull pulsing faster than usual, Bibwit let his hearing guide him. He followed the sound of their voices through half the palace, at last rounded the corner and saw them-Alyss at the threshold of her mother’s quarters, Dodge stepping rather proudly toward the guardsman’s balcony that overlooked the courtyard. He hurried up to the queen and spoke with breathless urgency.
“Alyss, Glass Eyes have entered the city. They’re on our streets.” “On our…?”
“And there’s something else. The Crystal Continuum-”
She didn’t give him time to say more, turning her imagination’s gaze on Genevieve Square, where Wonderlanders were being launched out of looking glasses with such speed that they smashed through shop windows, upset tarty tart carts, knocked unsuspecting shoppers to the ground, and sent skittish spirit-danes galloping off uncontrollably with their riders. On the corner of Tyman Street and Wondertropolis Way, Alyss watched as a smail-transport in the midst of boarding its passengers was slammed on its side by a knot of Wonderlanders jettisoned from the continuum. And even Wondronia Grounds-normally the site of so much pleasure-was not exempt from the hailstorm of Wonderlanders; Alyss witnessed dinners and cocktail parties thrown into disarray as continuum travelers crashed onto tables, bars, dessert carts.
She had to defend her realm with all the imagination she possessed. The sooner Redd and her Glass Eyes were put down, the less opportunity Dodge would have of succumbing to revenge, of risking his life for
the sake of killing.
“Don’t tell Dodge,” she said, and sprinted down the hall.
Bibwit stared after her for several moments, worried that she might not yet be ready to again battle her aunt, when-
“She was supposed to wait for me.”
Dodge. Surprisingly, and not a little ashamed of it, Bibwit had been too absorbed with thoughts of Glass
Eyes to hear the guardsman emerge from the balcony. “Who was?” he managed. “Alyss.”
“Oh, was she here? I’ve been looking for her myself.” From the folds of his robe, Bibwit retrieved the menu of the Lobster Quadrille, his favorite restaurant in the city. “I have a pardon that needs her signature.”
Dodge squinted, suspicious. “Is that right? With your acute hearing, Bibwit, you can usually find anyone you like.”
Bibwit considered running off. He had never been a good liar. The only way to keep news of the Glass Eyes’ invasion from Dodge would be to avoid the young fellow’s company, for surely the guardsman would pry it out of him otherwise, but-
“Mr. Bibwit, sir! Mr. Bibwit!”
The walrus-butler came waddling toward him from one of the ballrooms.
“I hope you’ve had better luck than I,” said the creature, “because I’ve had none! Not the tiniest bit! No, indeed, I cannot find the queen anywhere!”
“I was just with her,” Dodge said. “I’m sure I can find her for you.”
Behind Dodge’s back, Bibwit shook his head at the walrus-No, shhhh, say nothing-but the poor animal was carried away with worry and woe.
“Then you must tell her, Mr. Dodge-oh, it’s bad news, very unfortunate!-you must inform Queen
Alyss that the Glass Eyes have invaded Wondertropolis!”
Before Bibwit could stop him, Dodge was halfway down the hall with his sword drawn. “Tell Alyss to stay in the palace!” he shouted, and kept running.
CHAPTER 12
T HE FIRE crystals in the shallow pit cast a modest heat as Hatter sat staring at Weaver’s stilled image. He had paused the diary, wondering if something were wrong with its inner workings, because his beloved appeared blurry, as if seen through a veil of water. But then he felt the wet on his cheeks. It wasn’t the diary; he was crying.
She was dressed in the Alyssian uniform: rough-fibered and nondescript except for the emblem of a white heart on the cuff of the right shirtsleeve.
His hand twitched. The diary began to play.
“If you’re viewing this,” Weaver said, “then you have proved wrong all those who currently believe you and the princess are dead…although it also means that I’m most likely dead.”
She smiled sadly at the space between them. Hatter nearly slammed the diary shut. He’d been wrong; he wasn’t ready for this. But to relegate Weaver’s image back inside the book…No, he couldn’t do that either. It would be too much like shutting her away in a tomb. And so he sat there, watching her recorded image, listening to her every word.