“Glass Eyes are in the city!” the pawn shouted. “Repeat: Glass Eyes have infiltrated Wondertropolis!
Alot of them!”
Behind the pawn, fleet-footed Glass Eyes could be seen rampaging through the streets, overpowering one chessman and card soldier after another.
“Unable to locate their point of entry!” the pawn shouted. “They seem to be coming from everywhere!” A Glass Eye was rocketing up fast behind him, getting closer and closer-
“Look out!” the rook cried. The transmission went dead.
The generals were already barking commands into their flip-screen, older model crystal communicators: “All available decks deploy to Obsidian Park!”
“For White Imagination’s sake, get civilians off the streets!”
But neither the generals nor the chessmen voiced what all knew to be true: They were not equipped to counter a major attack on the capital city, not with the continuum rendered useless, and the numerous decks that had been dispatched to military outposts stranded along the edges of the queendom.
“The queen must be informed,” the knight said. “There’s no need.”
They all turned to see Alyss Heart, gifted with the most powerful imagination ever to legally occupy Wonderland’s throne, walking toward the middle of the square with scepter in hand. The sight of her, so matter-of-factly confident, might have been enough to give even the walrus-butler courage, but the chessmen and generals weren’t the walrus-butler. Their courage didn’t need bolstering. They would not whine about the Glass Eyes’ superior numbers. They would not disappoint their queen. The rook unholstered his AD52, checked the supply of projectile decks in its ammo bay. The knight unsheathed his sword and stood at the ready. Generals Doppel and Ganger each split in two, and the four generals each divided again, forming eight generals in all-four Doppels and four Gangers. The more bodies to aid in Wonderland’s defense, the better.
“There!” the knight said.
Alyss had already seen them: a contingent of Glass Eyes bearing down from Slithy Avenue, keeping close to the buildings, darting from vestibule to vestibule. The rook started forward, not one to wait for trouble
if he could help it.
“No,” Alyss said. “Let them come.” “It’ll be the last thing they ever do.” Alyss spun to her left and-
There stood Dodge, sword in one hand, crystal shooter in the other. They held each other’s gaze. What’s he doing here? I told Bibwit-
“Shouldn’t you be guarding the palace?” the rook asked with a knowing smirk.
Dodge shrugged, didn’t take his eyes off Alyss. “First they’re in Wondertropolis, next thing you know
they’re marching through the palace halls.” He looked at the rook and winked. “Besides, I have to make sure you do the job right, don’t I?”
The Glass Eyes were letting civilians climb out of ground-floor windows, burst from doorways, and escape into the distance. Unconcerned with ordinary Wonderlanders now that they’d located the queen, they holed up in the suddenly abandoned shops and office towers, took aim with their AD52s, crystal shooters, spikejack tumblers, and orb cannons.
Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch!
They strafed the square, orb generators burning a path through the air toward Wonderland’s queen. Even before Dodge, the knight, the rook, and eight generals could dive for cover-
Alyss used the power of her imagination to hurl the missiles back upon the enemy. At the slightest dip of her scepter, the orb generators reversed directions and broke into smaller orbs, each of them homing in on a Glass Eye.
Bloosh! Kabloosh! Bloosh-bloosh! Bloosh!
A rapid series of blasts as Glass Eyes exploded into millions of Glass Eye bits. Not one of the enemy was left functioning, alive.
“A second wave,” Alyss breathed, because more Glass Eyes were streaking in from Slithy Avenue’s horizon.
“They’re on Whiffling Heights,” called the rook. “And Gimble Lane,” said Dodge.
“And Brillig,” said the knight and generals.
Not the most life-affirming news: Glass Eyes storming Genevieve Square from every available street. Alyss and Dodge, the chessmen and generals-they were surrounded.
CHAPTER 14
I F THE ever-wise Bibwit Harte had been with Hatter on Talon’s Point, he would have bent his ears in sympathy, sensitive to the news divulged by Weaver’s image.
“The diary has left you with more questions than it has answered, Hatter,” he might have said, “but you shouldn’t be surprised. The most important questions are always answered with yet more questions.”
Which wisdom would have comforted the Milliner not at all.
If Weaver had given birth at the Alyssian camp within the Everlasting Forest, why had she left the safety of the camp? Why had she abandoned her daughter? Merely to place the diary at Talon’s Point in case he returned? It hardly seemed worth it. There must have been another reason, but…Here Hatter was overcome with a peculiar feeling. He’d been having peculiar feelings for a while now, but this one was really peculiar. He was feeling paternal. How old had Molly been when Weaver left? What did she remember of her mother? Had she been told anything of him? Hatter thought back to the time he had spent with the girl-the battles they had fought against Redd and her forces. He’d been impressed with her fidelity to Alyss, her courage and fortitude in helping the princess recover Wonderland’s throne, and he hoped he had said as much when he recommended her to be Alyss’ bodyguard. But he could recall nothing that definitively told him she knew who he was. Her sass and occasional disregard for his
opinions could have been either the lashing out of a bitter daughter or the antagonism of a teen determined to elbow a space for herself in the adult world.
He repeated the fact to convince himself of its reality: Homburg Molly is my daughter, Homburg Molly is my daughter. How could he act the recluse, pining away on a mountaintop for a woman who would never return, while her daughter-their daughter-lived? Because it’s in Molly that Weaver most lives.
Yes, and for Weaver’s sake, for his and Molly’s sake, he had to return to Wondertropolis. He got to his feet, would prepare immediately.
Blooooachchch! Kablooooomshkkrkkkrk!
He’d been hearing explosions outside the cave for some time, he realized. He stepped out onto the ridge and saw, on the nearby mountain below, the comet streaks of orb generators, the fiery blossoms of exploded barracks and munitions caches; a Wonderland military post was under attack.
In an instant, he returned to the depths of the cave. From the dust-covered pile of Millinery gear, and with the skill of a footballer chipping the ball into the goal, he kicked up his top hat, sent it flipping onto his head.
Shoulder to shoulder and ankle to ankle, the card soldiers locked themselves together to form a shield around the communications bunker. How many of their deck were still alive they had no way of knowing. Perhaps only the pair of Ten Cards inside the bunker. And themselves. It had been a while since they’d sighted anyone else. Yet they would defend the bunker so long as they had breath left in them. Not a single soldier harbored any illusions: The attack had caught the base unprepared; they were
outnumbered; they would not survive.
Too much smoke in the air to see the enemy, but suddenly-
A series of whishing sounds like something repeatedly cutting the air, then a lull, the quiet that inevitably precedes the wind-shriek of an incoming orb generator. The card soldiers braced themselves for impact, but instead of the expected explosion-