“Oh, Chesh,” Alice said, stepping out into the grassy field Chesh had transported them to. “You really took us all the way here, didn’t you?”
“A Cat’s promise comes true once in a while,” Chesh said with a chuckle. “But for you, Alice — always.”
“Thank you,” Alice said softly, her heart full of warmth. She strode ahead, gesturing towards the edge of the field, where a sudden wall of forest, so dense it couldn’t possibly be traversed, loomed before them. And in one spot at the base of the tree line, there was a cluster of mushrooms, with a wooden archway over them, and painted letters spelling out: “To the Caterpillar’s Grove.” Alice turned on her heel, gesturing broadly. “Here we are, friends!” she announced. “I hope you’re all ready for an exciting new —”
“Tobias!” shouted an angry, pompous voice, cutting Alice off. Alice turned towards the sudden voice to see a… person.
It really was hard to make sense of the man who had angrily yelled out Tobias’ name. He was dressed in an oversized overcoat that had pocket watches dangling out of every single pocket — and there were far too many pockets. One sleeve hung down farther on one arm than the other, but only because the coat was so oversized that it didn’t sit evenly on the man’s shoulders, but was heavily lopsided to the left, its long sleeve hiding all but the tips of two fingers of the man’s left hand. The shirt beneath the coat was a style that had gone out of fashion approximately three centuries ago, with a huge ruffled lace collar, and ruffled lace cuffs that poked out from the overcoat’s sleeves. The man’s trousers had clearly been tailored by an incompetent, or a drunk, or an incompetent drunk, as the right leg was a good thirteen inches shorter than the left, revealing the man’s high, blue-and-yellow polka-dotted sock on that leg, rising up above the top of the shiny, black, brass-buckled boot on his right foot. His left foot, meanwhile, was clad in a completely different kind of boot, a brown one with three sets of silver zippers as well as a set of laces that were tied in several different, wildly haphazard knots.
Beneath a massive, slightly caved-in top hat was a shock of thick, unruly red curls above a lean face with high, pronounced cheekbones, and vivid green eyes that had a manic, insane energy to them.
Tobias gave a tiny little sigh and glanced sideways at the man. “Mad Hatter,” he said with blunt dissatisfaction.
The Mad Hatter grinned. “Ha-ha! You remember me!” he cried, pointing triumphantly at Tobias.
“You’re unfortunately impossible to forget,” Tobias said.
“Inimitable geniuses inevitably are!” the Mad Hatter said.
“What do you want, Mad?” Tobias asked, exasperation leaking into his tone.
“A rematch, of course!” the Mad Hatter said, crouching into a fighting stance. His right hand — Alice noticed it was clad in a silver gauntlet — went to his belt, where several short knives were sheathed. “Until I finally win, I won’t ever stop pursuing you.”
Another small sigh from Tobias. “The same old speech, every time,” he muttered. He turned to face the Mad Hatter, his left hand going to his sword. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Want some help?” Elliot asked. Tobias shot him a withering glare. Elliot laughed, raising his hands innocently. “Sorry, I had to. You got this!”
“Obviously,” Tobias muttered. He started towards the Mad Hatter with an unhurried gait, without a hint in his posture of readiness or preparedness for battle. Flynn remained behind, watching with a high, wagging tail.
“Challenge accepted, then?” the Mad Hatter asked. His eyes went even wilder, if that were possible. And then…
He pounced. His gauntleted hand drew and hurled a knife at Tobias in one smooth motion, the knife blurring through the air at astonishing speed. Alice’s heart shot into her throat despite herself, but there was no need to fear.
Tobias was faster.
He drew his obsidian blade with blinding speed, yet still moved with an unhurried, unbothered attitude, batting aside the knife casually, dismissively, sending it sticking into the ground far away from him — and far from his companions, too.
The Hatter raced at Tobias, and reached him in three long, swift strides. It was now, as they came close, that Guinevere realized just how tall the Hatter was — easily a head taller than Elliot, which made him tower over Tobias. He drew another knife, slashing for Tobias’ face. Tobias didn’t even adopt a proper fighting stance, raising his sword to knock aside this attack just like the first…
But the Hatter dropped the knife. Tobias’ sword came slashing at him, and he opened his gauntleted hand and grabbed the obsidian blade, clutching it tight. Tobias’ eyes narrowed in annoyance, and the Hatter grinned wide, then twisted his wrist. A soft click! sounded.
An instant later, a long silver blade sprang forth from the gauntlet, shooting straight for Tobias’ face. There was the tiniest flicker of surprise in his eyes, but Tobias was fast, pivoting just in time to avoid the Hatter’s gauntlet-bound sword. The Hatter twisted with Tobias, trying to wrench the obsidian blade from Tobias’ grip — and put Tobias in position to be skewered on his own sword in the process — but Tobias moved with him in a wild, ungainly dance.
“Come on, then!” the Hatter crowed. “You’re impressed, aren’t you? It’s a brand new invention, custom-made just for this next duel. Ready to give up, yet? Quivering in your boots? Shivering in your skin?”
“Hardly,” Tobias said. He lunged inside the Hatter’s guard and struck with his elbow at the Hatter’s stomach. He connected, and the Hatter coughed out a breath and fell back — releasing Tobias’ sword in the process.
“Clever!” the Hatter cried, recovering before Tobias could close with his own attack. They exchanged several blows, the Hatter’s own swordsmanship — even with his sword bound to his arm via gauntlet — rather impressive.
For an ordinary individual, anyway. Compared to Tobias, though, he had mountains yet to climb. After six swift slashes and parries, Tobias knocked aside the Hatter’s blade, stepped inside his guard again, and this time his hand shot up and flipped the top hat right off the Mad Hatter’s head. It tumbled through the air behind him, and Tobias did something — Alice didn’t quite catch the subtle gesture — that caused a musical sigil on his sword to glow with white light, accompanied by a quartet of musical tones. A D minor seven chord, if Alice wasn’t mistaken.
The hat behind the Hatter paused in midair, then started spinning, the bottom of the hat, the opening, aimed right at the Hatter’s back. The Mad Hatter’s eyes went wide, and he tried to charge Tobias, but Tobias knocked aside his gauntlet and spun into a powerful kick that hit the Hatter hard in the chest. The Hatter went flying back — straight towards his hat.
And… into it? The spinning hat seemed like it was trying to swallow the Hatter whole, like a portal had opened up within its depths and sought to transport the Hatter far, far away from them.
And the Mad Hatter seemed to realize this. He struggled desperately as the hat threatened to suck him into its spinning vortex. “Curse you, Tobias!” he cried, clawing at the hat’s brim as it sucked him in, inch by inch. His eyes went wide, and he fought in vain. Finally, he cried out, “Not agai—!”
But he was cut off as the hat swallowed him up, spun in place, then vanished with a soft pop!
The Hatter, and his hat, were gone.
Tobias let out another soft, exasperated sigh, sheathed his sword, and strode back to the group. Flynn trotted up to him, tail wagging, and Tobias gave him some nice face-pets.
“Where’d you send him this time?” Elliot asked.
“The Oblivion Hills,” Tobias said. “Should keep him busy for at least a few months, trying to remember how to get out — or even why he would want to.”
“Harsh,” Elliot said, earning another glare from Tobias. Which again only made Elliot laugh. Alice was quite enjoying this side of the pair’s friendship.
“You and the Hatter have a history,” Alice said pointedly, eyeing Tobias expectantly.
“Unfortunately,” Tobias said. “I wandered into his tea garden one day, and he wanted me to join him and his friend for tea. I refused. He took it as a challenge to a duel — it wasn’t — and attacked me. I beat him, and he vowed that one day, he’d beat me. He hasn’t left me alone since.”
“How long ago was that?” Alice asked, batting her eyelashes, pressing earnestly for more information.
Tobias gave another of those tiny sighs, little breaths of exasperation that Alice had only just witnessed today, courtesy of one Mad Hatter. “Four years,” he said.
“You know,” Elliot said, “you could’ve just accepted the tea invitation. Then this saga never would have begun in the first place.”
“If you’d seen the tea they were serving, you would have declined, too,” Tobias said darkly, a flicker of fear briefly clouding his summer-sky-blue eyes.
“Well, today makes twenty-eight wins for you, and still zero wins for the Hatter, hmm?” Elliot asked.
“Twenty-seven,” Tobias said. “Our little scuffle on the banks of L’Enroulement hardly counts as a duel.”
“Ooh, he’s even followed you to Albia, then!” Alice said. “And you’ve been all the way to Gransoir. Fascinating. And that hat of his — I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
“Oh, don’t say that in front of him if you have the misfortune of meeting again,” Tobias said in warning. “Get him started on his hat and he’ll never shut up.”
“Unless you make him,” Alice said innocently, smiling at Tobias. He eyed her for a moment, and then smirked the slightest bit before turning away. That only made Alice smile all the more.
“So,” Guinevere said, looking completely dumbfounded by the entire encounter and aftermath. “Shall we, um… continue?” She looked at the mushroom forest with equal perplexity. “If there’s even a way in.”
“Oh, there’s a way,” Chesh said, floating in front of her upside down, making his grin almost look like a frown. Almost. “For you. I won’t be accompanying you. Mushrooms and cats are bitter foes, after all.”
“Oh come on, Chesh,” Alice said. “You don’t have any foes. Least of all mushrooms.”
“Oh, Alice,” Chesh said mournfully — even as he flipped right-side-up, so his grin was very noticeably a grin — “Sometimes you understand me just the slightest.”
“And sometimes a bit more than that,” Alice said with a smirk. “Fine then, scaredy-cat. Off you go. We’ll see you again soon, though, won’t we?”
“A Cat goes where the wind takes him,” Chesh said with a little chuckle. “And the wind blows where the Cat directs.”
“Must you always strive to speak nonsense?” Guinevere asked.
“It’s one of life’s greatest spices,” Chesh said. And, with a pop!, he vanished. His laughter lingered behind him for a few moments, then that too was gone.
“Well, that’s that, then,” Alice said, striding towards the mushroom forest. “See here?” She pointed to a small opening right beneath the wooden arch that marked the forest’s entrance. It was a gap fit only for a mouse, far too small for people. “That’s our entrance.”
“Isn’t it a bit… small?” Guinevere asked. Oh, how Alice enjoyed seeing her flummoxed.
“Not if you follow the signs,” Alice said. There were small wooden signs near the forest floor, and on close inspection could be seen to have “Eat Me” written on them, with arrows pointing in every direction. She picked off the top of a red-and-white mushroom the size of her palm, and then broke off a piece no bigger than her smallest fingernail. “You don’t want to eat too much, or you’ll end up a bit too small — or shrink into nothingness. At least, that’s the theory. I’ve never risked eating enough to find out for myself.”
“Shrink?” Guinevere asked, eyeing the mushroom piece that Alice held out to her like it was poison.
“That’s the way to the Caterpillar,” Tobias said, taking the piece Alice offered him.
Sheena took a piece, and Elliot, and Ninian. Alice also broke off carefully-sized portions for each of the dogs, then, remembering Sheena saying Akko had a sensitive digestive system and strict diet, inquired about him. “I don’t think we should risk any Wonderian flora for him,” Sheena said. “He looks like he could fit in that opening, though.”
“Oh, that’ll be such fun!” Alice said. “The smallest becomes the biggest — for a while, at least.” She then turned to Guinevere, holding out the last piece to her. “Well?”
“This… truly is the only way, is it?” Guinevere asked.
“It is,” Alice said.
“Sheena, have you ever done this before?” Guinevere asked. Alice pouted — why couldn’t Guinevere just trust her judgment, after all they’d been through together?
“I haven’t,” Sheena said. “But I have heard tales of the Caterpillar, and of foods and drinks throughout Wonderia that can alter one’s physical state. If Alice says it’s safe, then I’m sure it is.”
Alice puffed up with pride at that, only to deflate when Guinevere still didn’t take her mushroom piece, but instead turned her attention to Tobias. “You’ve done this before, yes?” she asked.
Tobias nodded. “It’s disorienting,” he said, “especially on your first time. But it’s a bit easier to deal with than traveling a door between realms, or the Cat’s teleportation. And it’s only temporary. Once we’re done, we’ll leave the forest and return to normal.”
“I… see,” Guinevere said. “We’re… eating mushrooms. To… shrink ourselves.” She looked at the tiny opening with no shortage of trepidation.
“It’ll be fun, Guin!” Alice said, eagerly holding out a piece to her. “Come on.”
“All right,” Guinevere said. She took the piece, then looked at Alice. “Who goes first?”
“Me!” Alice said, and popped her little mushroom piece into her mouth. “They’re rather tasty, so it’s fun to chew them up, but they’re small enough to swallow if that makes you feel better.” She chewed up hers, smiling at the burst of flavor, and then smiling all the more as the world…
Warped.
The sensation of one’s stomach plummeting faster than one’s body was a very real, very unsettling sensation. But Alice had experienced it enough times that it felt more like a thrill ride, as all around her the world transformed, until blades of grass were knife-edged trees, and mushrooms were big enough for houses to be carved into them if one wished. A pebble at her feet became a boulder to climb over.
And, thanks to Wonderia’s own delightful magics, Alice’s clothes shrank down with her body. Convenience, fun, and surprise all wrapped into one tasty morsel. What more could a girl ask for?
She looked up at the giants all around her and waved both hands, beaming up at them and calling for them to join her. They’d only hear her voice as a soft, high-pitched squeaking, barely intelligible.
But that was fine. They’d get the picture.
To her delight, Tobias and Flynn were the first ones to follow her into miniature. Watching others shrink down was almost as exciting as the shrinking process itself. It wasn’t a linear affair — Tobias’ legs shrunk in length faster than anything else at first, and then started to miniaturize, with his head the last thing to catch up to the rest in tiny form. Flynn shrank down much more evenly. Animals always seemed to handle the process easier than people. Tobias, once fully down to Alice’s size — though a bit taller, naturally — looked completely unfazed by the process. He immediately turned his attention up towards Elliot, and that attracted Alice’s curiosity, watching the other Knight of the party as he swallowed his mushroom piece and began the process.
He immediately had a shocked look in his eyes as he began to shrink down, and Alice grinned as, once Elliot was fully miniaturized, he immediately dropped to his knees, gasping for breath, his face white as a sheet.
“First time?” Alice asked Tobias.
“Yup,” Tobias said. He knelt down, giving Elliot a hearty pat on the back — which nearly made the Knight commander fall flat on his face. “Wonderia’s a fantastic place, isn’t it?”
“You said it’d be easy,” Elliot said in a taut, hushed voice.
“My first time was fun,” Tobias said.
“You never had any sympathy for my motion sickness,” Elliot said, and then lurched, his hand over his mouth.
“You’ll be just fine,” Tobias said, standing, a satisfied smile tickling at the corners of his mouth. He turned to Hector, who was already trotting about, tail wagging, him and Flynn sniffing everything in sight. And then to Ninian, who handled the process with her usual grace and elegance, unperturbed by the shrinking. She sang a light song of concern, and Tobias waved his hand. “He’s okay, don’t worry. Just give him a minute. Or two.”
Alice looked up, and noticed that Sheena and Guinevere were having a hushed conversation. Guinevere was shaking her head about something, then Sheena laid a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eye. A moment later, Guinevere nodded, and she and Ava ate their mushroom pieces.
Down came Guinevere, eyes nearly popping out of her head in shock. Oh, it was so fun to watch first-timers! But when Guinevere finished her miniaturization, she merely staggered a moment, first forward, then backwards, then found her legs. Her face was a little green, but her color soon normalized, even as Guinevere continued to sway on her feet. “Oh, that was… um…” she started, then declined to finish the thought. Ava padded up to her and leaned against her for support.
“You did excellent!” Alice said, beaming up at her. “Quite a lot better than our noble Knight Commander. And better than when you came through the door to Wonderia, too.”
“Yes, well, you did say this would be easier,” Guinevere said, looking a bit put-out by the reminder about their first meeting. “It’s all so… fascinating.” She gazed up and around in awe. “It isn’t at all like we’re smaller. It’s like we’ve entered a whole new world.”
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Alice asked happily.
There was a heavy rustle in the grass, and everyone looked to see Akko standing there, having hopped down from Sheena’s shoulder. Alice gazed in awe, seeing Akko — sweet, tiny little Akko — towering over her, his big blue eyes a little bit bigger than Alice’s entire body now, his tall bushy tail swishing back and forth like a great, fluffy sea serpent.
“Um,” Guinevere said, staring.
A moment later, Sheena shrank down between them and Akko, and aside from swaying a tiny bit on her arrival, she handled the transition just fine. She turned and smiled up at Akko. “The smallest becomes the greatest,” she said. “Though you’ve always been greatest to me.” Akko nuzzled in close, and Sheena petted his nose — she was now small enough that she could rub his nose with both hands.
“I think he’s enjoying this,” Alice said, marveling at how gentle Akko was with a person who he could now rather easily injure with a careless movement.
“We both are,” Sheena said. She turned back towards the others. “Are we ready to meet the Caterpillar?”
“I don’t know,” Alice said, pivoting to Elliot, who was still on his knees. “Are we?”
Elliot coughed and shook his head. Hector trotted happily up to him, the big midnight-blue dog planting both paws on his dear friend’s legs and licking his face vigorously, tail wagging away. “Stop it,” Elliot muttered, shoving Hector’s face away. Hector came back in to give him more kisses, and Elliot shot to his feet. “Okay, okay, I’m good, I’m good.” He sighed heavily, then patted Hector on the head. “Thanks. I guess.”
“Wonderful!” Alice said with a smile. “Into the forest we go!” She pointed the way and started forward, trotting with joy towards the opening in the mushroom wall.
“It seems like this Caterpillar is accustomed to visitors,” Guinevere said, eyeing the numerous signs pointing out the entrance, or pointing out mushrooms for eating, as well as a pair of signs just inside the opening that read: “Stay on the Path” and “Don’t Stray from the Path.”
“Lots of people want help with their dreams,” Alice said. “He has a mastery over dreams, or… something. It’s hard to know exactly what his connection to dreams is, but he’s certainly knowledgeable, and has a power no one else has. A power for healing and guidance — exactly what we need right now.”
Through the arch they went, onto a mossy path flanked by towering walls of mushrooms on either side. The tops of the mushrooms formed a zigzag canopy overhead, though sunlight still filtered down into this dense place, cheerful beams illuminating the path ahead. They couldn’t see too far, for the path wound back and forth.
It truly was like another world, and Alice always loved these pockets of the world that offered something completely, wondrously unique from all else. The “trunks” of the mushroom “trees” weren’t rough or hard with bark, but soft and springy to the touch. There were no branches, no leaves, but instead those wide, solid caps overhead, overlapping each other in curious, unexpected patterns. The ground beneath their feet wasn’t a dirt path, nor grass, but a springy moss that gave a little bounce with each footstep. Though this place was small, they’d shrunken down enough that Alice, Tobias, and Flynn could all walk at the head of the group with ample space between them, and Akko, towering over them all, had enough space to not be cramped as he took up the rear with Sheena, his bright eyes looking up, down, and all around in curious wonder.
They came to a river — what would have been nothing more than a trickling stream when they were full-sized — with water babbling down across smooth stones and around tight bends in the mossy terrain. There were rope bridges spanning multiple crossings — the river cut an S-shape right in front of them — and they walked across in single file. Akko didn’t need to bother with the bridges, just stepping mindfully over each gap with his soft paws.
“How far in is this Caterpillar?” Guinevere asked.
“Oh, it’s a bit of a ways,” Alice said. “It takes time to set the right mood, after all.”
“The right mood?” Guinevere asked.
Alice giggled. “You’ll see.”
They climbed a shallow slope, then came to a rock in the path, with stairsteps carved into it. Climbing up to the top, they then took a winding slide down to the other side, Alice raising her hands and cheering in delight as the wind blew through her hair. She hit the mossy ground feet-first and, though she wasn’t going fast enough to require it, tucked into a roll and came to a stop a ways away from the slide, arms outstretched, gazing up at the sky, laughing herself silly.
A moment later, Flynn came tumbling right into her, sprawling across her stomach. The wind was knocked out of her at the impact, but she recovered right away, and then petted Flynn all over. Tail wagging, Flynn came up to lick her face several times before standing up, watching and waiting.
“Yes, I suppose we can’t stay here, as fun as it is,” Alice said, hopping to her feet. She was disappointed to see that no one else had decided to join her in her roll to the ground, but oh, well. Adults had a tendency to resist real fun.
On they went, walking a path that led underneath a mushroom-cap canopy that shielded them from a tumbling waterfall, its waters catching a ray of sunshine to their left and casting a lovely rainbow.
Once they came out on the other side, the lights dimmed slightly. Daylight seemed to be shifting to dusk in a soft, gentle manner, bright blue and yellow softening to calmer blues and purples. “It’s so quiet,” Guinevere said after a while.
“Setting the mood,” Alice said. “There is wildlife that lives in the forest, but they stay far from the path. The Caterpillar doesn’t allow his guests to come to harm. But just you wait. The best part’s still to come.”
They rounded a bend into a wide clearing, and dusk dimmed to night. And with it, new lights came out — stars, dancing right before their eyes. Or so it seemed. But the tiny twinkling lights that bounced in the air were all sorts of colors — red, blue, yellow, green, white, silver, purple, pink, orange, and beyond — and moved in varying patterns, each dancing to their own rhythm.
“What are they?” Guinevere asked.
Alice held out her hand, and beside her, Tobias did the same. “Invite one close, and you’ll see,” Alice said. Guinevere came alongside her and held out her hand, as well. Three little lights danced towards the three of them — one blue, one green, one red. The blue light bobbed over to Tobias’ hand, the green flitted down to Alice’s hand, and the red darted up to Guinevere’s hand. Hovering before them, close enough to touch, staying in place for a moment, the lights became clearer.
Guinevere gasped softly. “Fairies?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“That’s right,” Alice said, beaming. The green fairy above her palm had a humanoid appearance, like a tiny little girl, her body looking like it was carved out of an emerald into delicate yet flexible joints and bright, shining eyes. Long, broad wings sprouted from the fairy’s back, fluttering in the air as fast as a hummingbird’s, so they were mere blurs, scattering little motes of light around her.
“Are they only found here?” Guinevere asked.
Ninian sang, and Alice turned to see that a whole host of fairies had come to dance around the songbird, a whirl of crystalline colors. “They can be found everywhere,” Alice translated. “But it’s closest to places of natural magic that they like to gather the most. Even so, you won’t often notice them — look how small they are!”
“Incredible,” Guinevere said, gazing in awe at her crimson fairy. Beside her, Ava’s tail swished gently back and forth as she watched a second red fairy that hovered just above her nose. On Alice’s other side, Flynn was trotting happy circles around Tobias, playfully following a blue fairy.
“And the fairies finish setting the mood,” Alice said, looking with excitement across the clearing, to a stepping-stone rise of mushroom caps. “Come on!” She bid farewell to her emerald fairy and then ran ahead, delighting in the soft, bouncy ground that put a natural spring in her step.
They all climbed up the mushroom caps, and through a narrower passage of towering mushrooms — Akko only just barely fit through — they emerged into a grove, surrounded by mushroom stalks, full of dancing fairies. And in the center, atop a low, wide toadstool, sat the Caterpillar.
His long, bumpy blue-and-green body was coiled in a circle at the base, almost like a self-made chair for the rest of the Caterpillar’s body to recline against. Beside him rested the lamp-like base of a hookah, its glass encasement cut like stained glass, each pane a different color. He had countless legs, but the ones closest to his face served like arms, holding the long pipe of the hookah up to a small mouth which breathed deep of the smoke, then puffed it out in small smoke rings, each one a different color from the last. Two round, sleepy silver eyes regarded the guests with a slow swivel, carefully inspecting each of them in turn. The sleepy gaze rested on Alice last, and a dreamlike, ponderous voice asked: “Who are you?”
“I’m…” Alice started, but faltered for a moment. Lacie’s questioning in the Fracture still burned in her heart. “I don’t know.” She pouted, turning the question back on the questioner. “Who am I, Caterpillar? Or don’t you remember me?”
For a moment she feared the answer. Memory was a troubling thing — she knew that better than most. But the Caterpillar bowed slightly, a smile crinkling the edges of his eyes. “You are Alice,” he said.
“Of course I am,” Alice said, doing her best to fight back the tears that welled up in her eyes. “And who are you?” She knew she was being obstinate, but she didn’t much care at the moment.
“I am a caterpillar,” said the Caterpillar. “Some call me the Caterpillar, but there have been, and at the moment still are, so many caterpillars in this world.”
“You’re the only one who smokes,” Alice said, finding her humor. “Or talks, for that matter.”
“All caterpillars talk,” said the Caterpillar. “I just happen to speak in your own language.”
“True enough,” Alice said. “Well, that’s enough about me. Meet the rest of the group!” She stepped aside, gesturing broadly at the others. Tobias stiffened slightly, and the Caterpillar rested his sleepy gaze on him.
“Ah, so you have returned,” said the Caterpillar. “Ten years of pent-up tears.”
Alice was fascinated by that declaration, but Tobias didn’t satisfy her curiosity. “How is she?” he asked, his voice taut.
“By ‘she,’ I presume you mean young Abigail,” said the Caterpillar. “She is recovering. Though she has many more sleeps to go before her heart is fully cleansed.”
“But she will recover?” Tobias asked. “Fully?”
The Caterpillar blew a smoke ring, which morphed into the image of a girl, probably thirteen or fourteen years old, dancing through a field of daisies. “Her dreams now are a healing balm,” said the Caterpillar. “Time does not heal all wounds on its own. But in time, with my help, Abigail will heal.”
“Thank you,” Tobias said. Beside him, Flynn nuzzled his leg in support. Taking a breath, Tobias then stepped aside, introducing the others. Alice smirked at just how wide-eyed and bewildered Elliot was. It seemed even the most competent and capable were susceptible to the wonderment of new experiences.
Guinevere was last, and approached the Caterpillar’s toadstool meekly. “I…” she started.
“Another victim of the Phantom,” said the Caterpillar with sober gravity. He blew a thin trail of smoke that spiraled above his head, forming into the shadowy “king” upon his dark throne. “It is no wonder that he would seek to court the Promised Queen. Though it is very good that he has not yet succeeded.”
“You know…?” Guinevere asked, staring wide-eyed up at the Caterpillar.
“The light of the Promise rests upon you,” said the Caterpillar. “For those with eyes to see, your half of the lodestar marks you with striking clarity.”
“I… see,” Guinevere said. She looked up at the Caterpillar, and, at an encouraging nudge from Ava, continued. “Will you set me free from the Phantom’s grasp?”
“I shall, and without delay,” the Caterpillar said. He breathed deep, and blew out a trail of crimson smoke that drifted towards Guinevere. “Let us begin.”