“Alice?”
Alice looked up, startled by Tobias’ voice. She’d been staring into the Looking-Glass shard which had once held a world of her memories. Now, it was just a mirror.
“What did it all mean?” she asked. She looked at Mister Carroll. “This shard… the world within… the other me… the…” She shook her head, but it only made the ache worse.
“May I see the shard?” Mister Carroll asked. Alice handed it over, and watched him as he examined it. “Curious. This is not from the House. I wonder why it was in the Library.”
“So you’re as lost as I am,” Alice said.
“What’s the House?” Tobias asked. “Someone’s mentioned it before — I think it was Chesh. And then Hugo said it, too — ‘The House is in disarray.’ It’s somewhere important to you.”
“Yes,” Alice said. “It was… where I lived, long ago. But the Fracturing ruined it, and we had to leave.”
“The place we were in, full of dust and mirror shards,” Tobias said. “That was it, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Alice said. Slowly, she looked at Mister Carroll. Her memories were odd, jumbled… but there was one thing that stood out in her mind. “When the glass shattered, you weren’t there.”
“I’m sorry, Alice,” Mister Carroll said. And she saw in his eyes an old, distant pain. “I had trusted the House to keep you safe. To be your refuge, even if I was absent. Terrible things were happening all over, in the build up to the Fracturing. Ciela asked for my help, and I provided it. But when things fell apart, I came back to the House, only to find it… ruined. I’m sorry you had to face that alone.”
“You don’t need to be sorry,” Alice said. “After all you’ve done for me since then… establishing this wonderful home for us…” She smiled. It was small, but it was real. “Thank you.”
Her smile couldn’t last, though. Because her attention was brought back to Tobias. “That… place,” she said, shuddering at the memory of the padded halls, the padded walls. The flickering lights, and that awful room. That horrible voice, with her horrible rhyme… “That…”
“Asylum.” She and Tobias said the word at the same time, with the same shared dread. “Why do we both know it?” Tobias asked. “And that woman, with her rhymes… why…?” He shook his head, and Alice saw a pain she knew all too well — the pain of trying and failing to remember.
“I do not know the woman’s voice,” Mister Carroll said to Alice’s questioning gaze. “Nor did I recognize that ‘Asylum.’ When I returned to the House to find you, you were already gone. I found you not far, though — on the edge of a Fracture, unconscious.”
Alice remembered — at least, she remembered waking in Mister Carroll’s arms, in what she’d thought was the end of the world. Those times had been such a horror, and so confusing, disorienting… it was hard to recall.
But Alice realized this left both her and Tobias at a loss. They’d gained little inklings of the truth, little kernels of memory. New pieces of the puzzles were revealed — but somehow, gaining more pieces only made their separate puzzles more obscure.
There was one final piece, one Alice didn’t want to talk about. But she’d started down this path — she wasn’t ready to turn back, now. She was trusting in Tobias’ words of wisdom, to follow the truth. Wherever it may lead.
“Who was she?” Alice asked.
“Who?” Mister Carroll asked.
“The girl,” Alice said. “With the black hair, lying asleep. She woke, and reached for me. And I… I knew her.”
“I did not see,” Mister Carroll said. “You both disappeared from our sight — Hugo remained with me — when the memory of the House gave way. All was darkness, until we returned to the tea garden. Tell me more.”
Alice told him, describing the child’s frightening voice, her longing to be with Alice. She didn’t leave out a detail, few though they were.
“I wonder…” Mister Carroll said when she’d finished. He rose and went to the hearth, adding more wood to the dwindling fire. “You say she made you think of a princess… the Black Queen, perhaps?”
Alice’s heart shot through with the same dread as when Baskerville had spoken the same name. “The Black Queen?” she asked, a cold shiver running through her, despite the warm fire. “What do you know of her?”
“Nothing,” Mister Carroll said, returning to his seat. “How I wish I did.”
“But the girl spoke of what she and I could do together,” Alice said, leaning forward. “The Black Queen sent Baskerville and his Hound to kill me! And he said she’d send more, until I was dead!”
“Then perhaps they are not the same,” Mister Carroll said. “Something seemed to connect, in my mind… but I wasn’t there to see the girl. I wasn’t there to hear Baskerville’s dying words. And I know far less than I should.” Alice saw then a brief flicker of anger in his eyes, something she’d never seen before. “However,” he continued, and the anger was gone, “I do have some glad tidings. I was able to locate a modulator, and more besides.”
“Of course you did!” Alice said, her mood brightening. “I never doubted you for a moment. We’ll share the good news with everyone tomorrow, and set out once more.” She held her hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn. “It’ll be good to get back on the road. Back to Wonderia.” She looked into the fire, a bright spot of warmth, such a rare thing since they’d returned to Albia. From Nocturnes to killers to a ruined ball…
Yes, I will be very happy to return to Wonderia.
“But I think… tonight has been awfully long,” she continued. Another yawn rose up in her, and she didn’t stifle it, but stretched her arms overhead as she let the exhaustion show. “Sleep would do us all some good. Wouldn’t it?” She looked to Tobias, and then to Flynn, who was curled up at his Knight’s feet, fast asleep.
Tobias smiled. “It would,” he said.
Alice wanted to talk to him more. She wanted to know — what was this horrific place, this Asylum, and its cruel mistress, that connected them? Why were they both connected to it?
I’ve often thought he and I were similar. But this goes deeper than I could have imagined. And both of us…
We have so much to learn. Frightening as this all is, I have to know.
For both our sakes.
——
Guinevere dreamt of light. She was on a bright shore, listening to her Song: Aurora. The old fear she’d held towards the Elysian Song was gone, especially now that she knew her own Song and the two Songs were learning to harmonize, to coexist. With her fear went a dark shroud that had clouded her future. The future now was bright and clear.
Elysia beckoned. A new golden age was nigh. The Promised Queen would see the Promise fulfilled.
But… that was strange. She noticed a shadow in the corner of her eye. But when she looked, it was gone. The shore was beautiful, glittering like stars brought to earth.
Except for… there. Guinevere turned again, towards a shadow. A shadow that eluded her when she looked, a shadow that was gone as soon as she noticed it.
Her Song sang to her, a question, a concern.
“It was —” Guinevere started, turning back to the shining ball of light. But she faltered, for there was a flicker of darkness, and a rich, deep laughter that sent a chill through her.
Guinevere woke with a start. Ava stirred beside her, her soft ears flicking against Guinevere’s face. Guinevere took a shuddering breath, then rolled onto her back, staring up at the sky.
She was home, in a manor that had a bedroom that belonged to her. But ever since she’d made her escape, sleeping indoors had been stifling, and brought back old fears. So she’d set herself up on the highest balcony in the manor, nearly on the roof. She’d loved watching the stars as she slowly drifted off to sleep.
And now she woke to a sky that was painted in early dawn light, pale blues and pinks running across smoky clouds. A vision of beauty that warmed her heart, and chased fear away.
They’re just dreams.
That was her earnest hope. And yet that laugh, those shadows… they were too much a reminder of the Nightmare King that she’d just been freed from.
And then she remembered things related to the Nightmare King. In the mushroom forest, talking with the Caterpillar…
Tobias had an encounter with the Nightmare King previously. The girl he tried to save… I want to know what happened.
Dawn beckoned. Guinevere petted Ava, and then together they rose and went inside to begin the day. Dressed and packed, Guinevere went downstairs and met Ninian, Sheena, and Akko in the solar, a room full of windows that curved upwards, forming part of the ceiling, allowing the room to be flooded with light. Potted flowers by the windows helped give even more a sense of the outdoors without being there, and the ladies sat and ate a delightful breakfast. Ninian sang, and Guinevere and Sheena both were able to understand her, to an extent. Guinevere had studied Elysian in music classes, and she knew the language by heart — but she’d never had to translate in real-time, to someone singing without a textual reference included. So she was slow, and sometimes asked Ninian to repeat herself. Sheena seemed to be at around the same linguistic skill level as Guinevere, so together they were able to make the most of conversation. And Guinevere realized that she needed to tell Ninian about her dream.
When she did, Ninian surprisingly smiled. She sang, and it took a moment for Guinevere to catch up with her. “My Word, my own Song, existing in my dream, is a good sign,” she said. “My song and the Elysian song are learning to coexist. And… yes.” She nodded in response to Ninian’s assessment. “I’m no longer afraid of the Song.”
“I wouldn’t worry about the shadows in your dreams,” Sheena said, “unless they begin to recur. If they do, you’ll tell us, won’t you?”
“Yes,” Guinevere said. After all she’d been through with the Nightmare King, she wouldn’t dare keep those kinds of dreams secret again.
Breakfast was soon interrupted, as people in the house realized that the Promised Queen was awake. Lancelot came in practically tripping over himself in apologies for not realizing she was awake, and not seeing to her every need. “You’re not a servant, Lancelot,” Guinevere said. “You’re a Knight. You have done nothing wrong, nor offended me. See to your troops, and your training.”
“Yes, my Queen!” Lancelot said, snapping a brisk salute. He departed, only for Rosalie to step into the solar, smiling.
“He’s eager to please, isn’t he?” she asked. “Good morning, Guin. Sheena, Ninian, it’s good to see you as well. And hello there, Ava.” She knelt as Ava approached, happily petting her.
“You’re here already,” Guinevere said, surprised.
“Of course,” Rosalie said. “I’m going to be your steward, after all. And you’re ready to get back on your journey, aren’t you? I’m ready to begin my duties. And what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t see you off?”
Guinevere took a breath, composing herself. This reunion was all too brief, and once again she wished Rosalie could come with her, rather than separating. But she nodded, finding a way to smile. “Thank you,” she said. “Yes, we will be leaving quite soon. I’ll need to say goodbye to my parents…”
“Your mother’s acting quite different this morning,” Rosalie said. “Much more reserved than I’m used to. Your father’s the same as ever, though.”
“Right,” Guinevere said. She took another breath. She’d eaten enough. Breakfast was over.
It was time to leave.
Guinevere met her parents in an inner lounge, where they sat at their usual table, her father reading his newspaper and puffing at his pipe, her mother watching the flowers out the window and sipping at her tea. They both looked up as Guinevere entered.
“Guinevere, my girl!” her father said, and Guinevere winced. He was awfully loud for so early in the morning. “You were quite the hero last night, weren’t you? Your mother and I were so impressed with how you saved the day when all went wrong. Weren’t we, dear?”
“Yes,” her mother said, and Guinevere saw what Rosalie meant. Her mother seemed… tired. There was something of what she’d seen last night, when she’d rescued her parents from their would-be kidnappers.
“You don’t need me,” her mother had said, and there had been surprising sorrow in her face as she’d said it. And now she looked at Guinevere without the usual appraising, demanding intensity. Instead she looked pensive, thoughtful.
“It’s time for my journey to continue,” Guinevere said. “I’m very sorry to leave again so suddenly. But all is in good hands with Captain Grants. Workers will be arriving later today to repair the ballroom, and I was thinking… Mother, would you be willing to oversee their efforts? I know you’ll hold them to the highest standards.”
Her mother looked surprised, her eyebrows lifting, her eyes widening for a moment. She swiftly composed herself, and nodded. “I would be more than willing,” she said. “I’ll make sure all is rebuilt even better than before, in time for your return.”
Guinevere smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “Well, then… I’m off.”
“Don’t run off without properly saying goodbye, my girl!” her father said, rising from his seat and spreading his arms. “Come, now. Surely you aren’t too old to give your father a hug.”
Guinevere repressed the urge to roll her eyes, and went to her father. She was surprised to find his embrace warm, even reassuring.
He does love me. He’s… not the man I want him to be. Certainly not what I believe a father should be.
But he isn’t just play-acting at affection. That’s something, isn’t it?
When she went to embrace her mother, she was surprised. Her mother, always regal, composed, upright, strong… wrapping her arms around her, Guinevere felt a fragility, a delicacy, she’d never realized was there.
But then, how long has it been since we last embraced? Words and looks, that’s what we share. I don’t think we’ve held each other like this since I was a little girl.
“Be safe,” her mother said, releasing her. They looked into each other’s eyes, and her mother seemed to be considering something for a moment. Then, she gave a small, sad smile. “Farewell, Guinevere.”
Guinevere said her farewells, and left with her companions. Out into Ars Moran. On the way to Alice’s manor. But as she took one more look back at the Queen’s Manor, she realized…
“Guinevere.” That’s… the first time she’s ever just used my name. Not, “Guinevere, darling.”
Something had changed. Something greater than Guinevere realized or understood.
I’ve always wished they would change. I’ve grown up so much — especially in my short time in Wonderia. I thought my parents were set, cemented in their ways, in who they were.
Maybe I was wrong.
How much she hoped that was true.
——
“Successor, heir to Fate!”
The horrible voice filled the room, a triumphant proclamation that sent ice down Tobias’ spine. He whirled about, but he was stumbling in the dark, grasping for anything to hold onto. Lights flickered overhead, and he caught hold of a lamppost. A device for a city street, yet it was here, in a padded hall, full of padded rooms.
A door slammed open, and Tobias turned, gaping. The door was too tall, too large, and then he realized — he was a child. A small child, smaller than Alice, and he backed away, helpless before the three pale, beautiful women who strode through the door, looming over him. When he grasped for his sword, all he found was a wooden plaything, a useless toy.
“Fear not, sweet prince,” said the woman in the center, her voice smooth and sweet as honey. “Pain is a crucible, a forging. Bear it with courage, and you will come out the other side as burnished gold.”
“Perfection,” spoke the woman on the right, beaming with pride. “Your Fate beckons, dear boy. You will save us all.”
“Why do you resist?” asked the woman on the left. “This is what you wanted, after all. Good boys get what they want — and you are the very best of us.”
“I’m not…” Tobias said in a quavering, tiny voice. “I’m not what you want…”
“No,” said the woman in the middle. And suddenly her expression was one of stern disapproval. For some reason, it made Tobias feel guilty. As much as he feared these women, he didn’t want to disappoint them. “But he could be.”
A sudden twisting in Tobias’ gut, a knot of dread and disgust took hold of him. Light flashed behind him, hot and red-orange, and he whirled around to face the sudden flames, the burning house. There, in the fire, a blonde child with long sword in hand, and a freakish smile on his lips. Tobias felt a sudden, vicious urge to kill this boy, to kill him in the worst way possible, to tear him apart, to make him suffer. He took a step forward, and the boy laughed at him, laughed as his sword dripped blood onto the floor.
“Go ahead,” the boy said, grinning.
Tobias was an adult, drawing forth his obsidian sword. But his hands shook, his arms shivered, his whole body trembled. He was fighting, fighting this vicious urge, this monstrous desire building inside of him, roaring to be set free.
The boy kicked one of the bodies in front of him, and it rolled over to show Tobias his father’s face. “Come on!” the boy said. “Don’t you dare hold back!”
Tobias yelled, screamed in wordless fury, fighting against himself, fighting to be set free, to be contained, to fight, to flee. The fires roared louder, blazed hotter, and a sudden, vicious explosion shattered the walls. The burning roof fell, and buried them both, amidst the sounds of the boy’s crazed laughter.
Tobias woke, gasping in a breath. He stared up at the dark canopy overhead, collecting himself. Softly, his lips whispered one word, one name.
“Mordred.”
He brought his hand to his face, closed his eyes.
Why? Why would I dream about him?
And he felt the faint echoes of that monstrous urge, that desire to kill, to destroy, to bring suffering to the boy who had been one of his best friends.
Stop. Why… after all this time…
A wriggling in his blankets preluded the arrival of Flynn, nuzzling his way out from under the covers. He gave Tobias a kiss on the nose, and then sighed in his face, ruffling his hair.
Tobias chuckled, relief flooding through him as a smile lit his face. “Good morning to you, too,” he said, stroking his best friend’s face. Flynn cocked his head lightly to the side, and his left ear did a tiny circular flick. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for worrying, but… it was just a dream.”
Flynn lowered his head and then placed his furry forehead against Tobias’. Tobias closed his eyes and leaned into the comfort, the reassurance. They shared the silence, the warmth, for a long time. Words couldn’t convey the weight they both carried.
But thankfully, they carried it together.
Tobias rose, and he only had enough time to wash his face and get dressed before a knock came at his door. He answered it to find Alice, with a tray of tea and small cakes. “Breakfast is served,” she said, smiling.
So they ate breakfast — which was more pastries and sweets than a proper meal, but Tobias wasn’t complaining, it was delicious — in Tobias’ room, seated on the floor. After a happy greeting between Alice and Flynn, Flynn went to eat his own breakfast and then curled up at Alice’s side.
“I’m sure sleep… made you think more about last night,” Alice said, fear and pain clouding her expression.
Tobias nodded. “I think… well, I must have been in the Asylum at some point,” he said. “It lives in my memory, and not just some figment or fabrication. It was there, all along, and I didn’t even know until we faced it inside the Looking-Glass shard. I… don’t understand.” He felt a sudden ache in his temple as he tried to recall more than what fragments he knew. “How can I have something so painful in my past, and not remember it? I remember the day my parents were killed, even if I sometimes wish I couldn’t. What is it about that place… what did it do to me? To us?”
“I… have a lot of things like that,” Alice said. Tobias looked at her, and saw her meeting his gaze, not running or hiding from this confession. There was something in her that seemed like it was reaching out to him, and he realized…
She sees me. There’s so much I haven’t told her about myself, and yet… she sees more than I’ve said. More than I even know how to say.
“Ever since that day, when Mister Carroll brought me here, and made a home for us in Ars Moran,” Alice continued, “I’ve spent a great deal of time wrestling with my memory. There is so much I remember, but so much I… can’t. The Mirror pulled things from my mind I didn’t even know were there. And now this Looking-Glass shard, and my other self… I know it hurts. I don’t have any answers — except for the one you gave me. A promise. One I hope we can both share.” She held out her hand. “To pursue the truth. Wherever it may lead.”
Tobias took her hand. “Wherever it may lead,” he said. He shook her hand once, twice, thrice, and then released it.
Alice smiled. “We promised one day, there would be no secrets between us,” she said. “I never would have guessed there was a secret we both share — one that’s still a secret to us both. The Asylum, and that horrible woman… what did they do to us? Why both of us?” Her smile faded.
Tobias didn’t have answers.
But he did have a dog. And Flynn laid his head over Alice’s lap, letting out a sleepy, contented sigh. Alice giggled, and petted him gently.
They sat together for a long time, time that went uncounted. There was no rush. They both needed to sit with their thoughts, with this shared mystery, a bit longer.
When they finally did leave and go downstairs, it was just in time for a knock to sound at the front door. “Ah, those must be our companions!” Alice said, beaming. “Perfect timing.”
——
On the way to Alice’s, Elliot and Hector had joined Guinevere, Sheena, and Ninian. Alice happily invited them into her home, and Guinevere looked past her, at Tobias. And she realized she had to seize this moment, or it might slip away.
“I need to talk to you,” she said.
She saw his eyes shift, momentary surprise, confusion, and curiosity. “Okay,” he said.
No questions. No resistance.
His response was odd to her. Once again, she was being demanding of him. And once again, he was acquiescing without protest. Certainly, that made things easy for her — but why did he give her such leeway? It wasn’t because she was the Promised Queen; he still looked at her as Guinevere, and that was still so refreshing.
And something has changed within him. When we met, he was guarded, distant. Something’s made him open up.
It’s… nice.
“We’ll give you some space,” Alice said, startling Guinevere. For a moment, she’d forgotten anyone else was here. “Come along, friends! We’ll convene in the play room. Hector, I’ve not gotten a chance to play with you yet. Let’s have some fun!”
The others headed off, leaving Guinevere, Ava, Tobias, and Flynn in the entrance hall. “We can talk over here,” Tobias said, and led the way through a doorway into a lounge full of bookshelves. He sat in a chair, and Guinevere took a seat across from him.
“Tell me about the girl you tried to save from the Nightmare King,” Guinevere said.
She didn’t miss the flicker of surprise — and pain — in Tobias’ eyes. “Abigail,” he said softly.
“How did you find her plagued by the Nightmare King?” Guinevere asked. “What brought you to try to save her? What happened? I want to know the story, if you’re willing to tell it.”
Tobias looked aside, out the window into the bright morning. He spoke in a soft, haunted voice. “Elliot and I were a year into our training. A year since the night… my parents died. Our Teacher lived alone in a remote area of Northern Wonderia, but he often took us on long trips to towns and villages in that region. After about a year, he sent Elliot and I alone to separate towns, on separate missions. Where I was sent, it should have been simple. All he asked me to do was procure some medicinal herbs and return. But when I was in the town, I met a girl. I… don’t know why she approached me. She said she thought I was a Knight, even though I was still too young, even though I didn’t have a uniform or chivalric marque. But she asked me for help.”
“The Nightmare King,” Guinevere said, a shadow hanging over her heart.
“He’s no king,” Tobias said, and there was an anger there that surprised Guinevere. “Those who know most about him, like the Caterpillar, call him the Phantom. But, yes. He was plaguing her nightmares, and she thought I could save her.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why. But… I believed it, too. I wanted to help, if I could. She told me about her nightmares, about the would-be king within them. There was a witch in town who I’d worked with a few times before, whose magics were, as far as I’ve seen since, wholly unique. She had the power to send me into Abigail’s dreams. Together, we confronted the Phantom.”
Guinevere almost asked a question, but let it be. The silence as Tobias paused, thinking, processing, was valuable. She watched him, instead, taking in the weight of guilt and shame that he carried.
“He’s a being of nightmares,” Tobias continued, “not some physical entity. We knew that when we first fought him. And when the nightmare was ended… I knew it was going to be a more difficult fight than I’d planned. But I was okay with that. Whatever it took… I would defeat the Phantom.”
Guinevere heard what went unspoken, what she’d seen when Tobias had confronted the Nightmare King in the Library. There was something personal between the two of them. The Phantom had taunted Tobias, and Tobias had been more fiery than she’d ever seen him in response. What had happened in that first encounter that ignited this intense antagonism between the two of them?
“We entered her dreams together again and again,” Tobias continued. “Each confrontation showed progress. It was a difficult battle, but… it looked like we could win. And it needed to happen soon. The constant battles took a toll on Abigail. She was more weary every day. The witch who was helping us worried that, if we didn’t succeed soon, she’d fall asleep and never wake again. So the next time we went into her dreams… the Phantom and I had what I believed to be a duel to decide it once and for all. And I… won.” Tobias chuckled softly, bitterly, without smiling. “I should never have believed it. The Phantom just made me think I’d won. He orchestrated a false victory for me, and a perfect victory for himself. When we came out of that nightmare, Abigail and I celebrated. We truly believed it was over. I stayed in the town one more night, intending to go back to my Teacher the next day. But something stalled my departure. It didn’t feel right.” He looked down at Flynn, who, curled up at his feet, looked back up at him. “Flynn noticed it first. We went to visit Abigail and… she wasn’t who we knew. The stranger who’d become such a close friend… she was completely changed. The Phantom ruled her mind, her heart, and her soul. All the fighting had only weakened her, making her more and more susceptible to the Phantom’s influence. He… became her King.”
“But the Caterpillar saved her,” Guinevere said.
“Yes,” Tobias said. But there was no joy in his voice. “I… I keep thinking about what could have been, if I’d known about the Caterpillar from the start. It was only when I realized I’d failed, and there was no saving her, that I finally contacted my Teacher. He came immediately, and with the witch’s help put Abigail into a deep sleep. He knew exactly what to do, and took me with him — to the mushroom forest. Together we met the Caterpillar, and he began the healing process that he did with you. Only, because of how much the Phantom had taken control of Abigail, extracting him was not a simple task. And even when it was complete… there was a wound opened, a wound that might never fully heal. To have something so closely bonded to your soul ripped away from it… it’s only thanks to the Caterpillar’s wisdom, and gentle, delicate work, that she didn’t die. But she’s… still asleep, in the Caterpillar’s care. Still healing.”
“She was there?” Guinevere asked. “Why didn’t you visit her?”
“She’s asleep,” Tobias said, looking away. “And I’m why she’s there.”
Guinevere’s heart ached for Abigail — and for Tobias. “What does the Phantom want?” she asked. “Why me? Why her? Why Saoirse?”
“Saoirse?” Tobias said, looking up in surprise.
“When we were in the Mirror,” Guinevere said, “the Mirror started to show me my nightmares of the Phantom. But Saoirse stopped her. She… knew that nightmare. She’d dreamt it, too.”
Something of recognition came to Tobias’ eyes. “What is it?” Guinevere asked.
“The Queen of Hearts,” Tobias said. “The Promised Queen. The Nightmare King. He’s said it before, but I didn’t realize. He truly believes himself a king. And what a king needs, especially a king like him, set on domination… is a queen.”
Guinevere shivered. She’d only had a few truly lucid encounters with the Phantom, but those had shown her a window into who he was, and what he desired. If she’d let him have her… if she’d made one wrong choice when Lacie had cast her into her nightmare…
“Why Abigail, then?” Guinevere asked. “Who is she?”
“I’m not sure,” Tobias said. “There were… clues. Hints that she was keeping some secret. She didn’t have parents in the town. She lived all by herself, even though she was only sixteen. But she didn’t talk like an orphan. She often spoke of going home one day, of reuniting with her family. Some of the things she said, the things she did… there was always something noble about her. But I don’t know.”
“I see,” Guinevere said. She reached out and took Tobias’ hand. He jolted slightly with surprise — but he didn’t pull back. She looked at him, and he met her gaze. “I can’t imagine how much this weighs on you. But you did everything you could. And in the end, she got the help she needed because of you.”
“Because of my Teacher,” Tobias said bitterly. “I didn’t —”
“— know about the Caterpillar,” Guinevere finished for him. “But your Teacher did. And Abigail didn’t know him, did she? You did. It’s because of who you knew, and who you reached out to, that she got the help she needed. You rescued her from the brink, just in time.”
“More like too late,” Tobias said. He sighed, shaking his head. “Thanks. For trying. But… why did you want to know about her all of a sudden?”
“I…” Guinevere hesitated. But then she sat back, and told the truth. “I had a dream. In it there were… little wisps of shadow. Glimpses, out of the corner of my eye. And, at the very end, I almost saw… him. Again. He… can’t still be in my dreams, can he? The Caterpillar fully extracted him. In that last moment, I almost stopped him, but you kept me from that.” She smiled. “Thank you. But… he’s really gone, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” Tobias said, without a shadow of doubt. “The Caterpillar knows what he’s about. And that final step — that was complete extraction. Not just to pull the Phantom from you, but to prevent him from gaining a hold over you ever again. You’re not just free of him now. You’re free of him forever.”
“Then what was that dream?” Guinevere asked. Tobias asked her to tell him in detail, so she did.
“Echoes,” Tobias said. “The Phantom’s gone, but your memories of him remain. There’s still some fear, and other emotions, attached to those memories. They live in your mind, and dreams often pull from those parts of ourselves, the things we don’t want to express — or that we don’t even know about ourselves.”
“Echoes,” Guinevere said, breathing a soft sigh of relief. “I’d rather not have even an echo of those horrors remaining, but memories don’t disappear so easily, do they?”
“Our memories are important,” Tobias said. “Even the painful ones.”
Guinevere had nothing to say to that. Tobias had experienced more pain than she could imagine — perhaps too much for a lifetime. Certainly for someone as young as he was. She looked down at Ava, and smiled. “I had a realization yesterday,” she said.
“About what?” Tobias asked.
“Ava’s speciality,” Guinevere said. “She’s a shepherd. Always calm, always comforting. But also brave, and endlessly reliable. In the fighting and fury, when I asked her to guide the guests at the ball to safety, she didn’t flinch. And she gave many of them the hope and courage they needed to stay calm when fear was all around.”
Tobias smiled. “A shepherd,” he said. “That sounds perfect.”
“Well, she is perfect,” Guinevere said. “So that’s to be expected.”
Tobias laughed, and Guinevere laughed with him. Dark, shadowed memories were chased away, at least for the moment. “Will you help us grow as a team?” Guinevere asked. “I want us to be like you and Flynn.”
“I’d love to,” Tobias said. “And I will.” He stood. “Shall we rejoin the others? Mister Carroll’s found a modulator, so we can use the focusing stone to locate Elysia.”
“That’s excellent!” Guinevere said, standing. “Let’s not delay any longer, then.”
Together, they and their dogs joined the others, finding Alice and Elliot taking turns throwing balls all around the spacious playroom for Hector to gambol after, slipping and sliding even on the carpeted floor. His huge size made it harder to gain traction on speedy turns, and he was constantly trying to make the most impossible of maneuvers, excitement chasing away sensible ball-chasing tactics.
Flynn looked eager to show the bigger dog how it was done, but now that they were all reunited, no one wanted to wait to hear Mister Carroll’s news. Together, with a happy, panting Hector, they all went to the sitting room where Mister Carroll was waiting.
“All right, I’ve waited long enough!” Alice said eagerly. “I know it was only right and proper to wait for everyone to be here, but now they are. Tell us about this modulator you found.”
“A friend of mine has one in his care,” Mister Carroll said. “It cannot be brought to you, unfortunately — a modulator is quite a large, and quite a delicate, piece of ancient machinery. But you can go to him quite easily. He resides in Keyarch, in the Upper Shimmer Ward.”
“Keyarch!” Alice cried, beaming. “The most wondrous city in all of Wonderia! If there was a capital of the world, Keyarch would be it. Oh, this is wonderful! I haven’t been in far too long.” She turned to Guinevere, nearly bouncing with excitement. “Guin, you’re going to love it! Ars Moran is lovely, of course, but Keyarch — ‘wonderful’ is too small a word!”
“You had other news for us,” Tobias said, watching Mister Carroll.
“Yes,” Mister Carroll said. He adjusted his pince-nez, and regarded Sheena with his calm, inquisitive eyes. “I believe I have a lead on the whereabouts of your brother.”
A hush filled the room. In a tiny voice, Sheena asked, “Asbel…?” She took a breath, then spoke more clearly. “You know where he is? He’s… he’s alive, then?”
“As far as I last heard,” Mister Carroll said. “There were reports of a human-like beast, infested with a horrific curse, wandering the Frigid Flock in Northern Wonderia. He struck fear into the hearts of all who saw him — but if he saw anyone, he didn’t approach, didn’t attack, but instead ran away. For all his horrific appearance, he was described as seeming haunted, and full of regret. In his incoherent mutterings, it was clear that he occasionally spoke in Kisetsugo. And one word — a name — stood out in particular: ‘Sheena.’ ”
“Asbel…” Sheena said softly. Tears shone in her eyes, but did not fall. She whispered something softly, in her native tongue. Akko, perched on her shoulder, nuzzled against her face, and she leaned gently into him. But then she looked down, and touched the fist-sized ceramic jar that hung from her hip. The kantetsubo, her gift from the Librarian.
“So we know where he is!” Alice said. “We should go to find him, and save him!”
“I believe you should, and without delay,” Mister Carroll said. “There was report also of a squad of Sword Dancers in the region, asking about a beast matching the reported sightings. Curiously, this squad of Sword Dancers was led by a man.”
Sheena’s gaze darkened. “Itsuki,” she said bitterly. “They haven’t found him, yet. With luck, we can reach him first.” But then she looked around, and her expression softened. “I’m… sorry. The modulator must come first, of course.”
“Absolutely not!” Guinevere and Alice both said at once. “He’s your brother,” Guinevere continued. “He needs you — and we promised we would help you save him if we could. Now is our chance.”
“The modulator can wait,” Alice said. “It’s safe and cozy in Keyarch. We’ll get there when we can.”
“You’re certain?” Sheena asked.
“Yes,” Guinevere said. “Let’s save your brother.”