Guinevere ran, trying her best to keep up with the rapid pace set by Tobias and Sheena. They led, while others followed — but even Alice, smallest of them, and Ninian, who seemed so delicate, seemed to have little trouble keeping pace.
Guinevere was the only one struggling.
I’ve never been a runner!
It had been a regular frustration since she’d joined with this group, started on this adventure. She could dance with the best of them, she was very physically fit. One foot in front of the other, quickly, should be so simple.
Why did she have to be the only one who lagged, the only one slowing them down?
Ava loped along beside her, a constant companion, never leaving her side. Behind them, the sounds of combat were fading. The Mad Hatter, taking on an entire squad of Sword Dancers. To think he’d hold out for even a few moments, let alone the minutes that had eclipsed so far, was incredible. She’d seen him fight Tobias. It hadn’t even been a contest.
But he was fast. There’s no doubt about that. If he’d attacked me, I wouldn’t have been able to keep up. And he’s quite skilled — if a bit wild.
Perhaps it’s personal pride, a desire to prove himself to Tobias, that inspires him to greatness now.
And that turned her attention to Tobias. Tobias, Knight Jouerve, a veritable master of the wilderness — she’d seen him swim through rapids that would swallow the greatest swimmers to save Alice, watched him race through dense foliage with sure, confident steps, and had never missed that he was their primary guide through Wonderia, knowing the best paths, the safest routes, the right way to go.
But now she felt conflicted. Because when they’d been separated in Cuindeigh — Tobias and Alice helping the Tweedles, Guinevere and the rest seeking information about Asbel — Elliot’s background had come up in comparison to Tobias. They’d studied under the same sword instructor, and yet they were so different.
“I grew up fencing, dancing, and riding horses,” Elliot had said with a laugh. “Tobias grew up in the wild. Running, swimming, climbing trees, diving off cliffs… It’s no wonder I joined the Knights Lirica, and he became a Knight Jouerve. He loves the wild. Always has. I’m… more of a city boy, I suppose.”
The wild…
Guinevere watched Tobias run. Studied the set of his shoulders, the movement of his feet, the contours of his jet-black hair.
She knew a boy who had grown up “in the wild.” She knew a boy who had spent every moment he could running, swimming, climbing trees, diving off cliffs…
She shook her head, hard.
I thought we were past this. Similarities are just that. Similar. Not the same.
But…
His mother taught him how to dance.
Another detail, tucked away in her mind. Another similarity she couldn’t quite ignore.
“We can’t run all the way to Suiren,” Sheena said, her words pulling Guinevere’s thoughts out of reverie. “Is there a shortcut?”
“That’s where I’m going,” Tobias said. Tobias, his voice so boyish for his stern, severe demeanor. And yet Guinevere knew now, that demeanor was a mask.
Grief stole so much of his light. When he does smile, when he does laugh… even though there is pain in it…
I feel like I see him. The real Tobias, under the walls he’s built to cover the scars, to defend against further pain.
The real Tobias. That’s what she tried to focus on, now. Not his similarities to someone else. Who he was, right in front of her. He and Flynn led them off the path, down a hill, and Guinevere slid slightly, only barely keeping her footing in the snow. The ground leveled off after a moment, and they were charging into a dense forest just off the road.
Keep pace, Guinevere. You won’t be left behind. And you won’t hold them back.
And focus! We’re running to save Sheena’s brother. Keep your thoughts fixed on that.
The trees closed in around them, and the world beyond vanished.
——
Tobias and Flynn kept to a run even as the forest thickened around them. They had to slow a bit, but that was fine. Sheena could keep up, and clearly wanted to go faster. But this pace was considerate of the rest of them.
Tobias didn’t have to look back to know that Guinevere was struggling. She had a great many physical talents, but running was not one of them.
She doesn’t want to show weakness. She doesn’t want to hold us back. And she’s fighting so hard to be and do better.
Hang in there, Guin. You’re doing great.
He was more surprised by Alice’s ability to keep up, even carting her trunk behind her. Full of surprises, that one.
“How is this a shortcut?” Elliot asked, and Tobias could hear him getting caught on a branch and breaking free.
“There’s a Tangle up ahead,” Tobias said.
“A Tangle!?” Elliot asked, panic rising in his voice. “How is that a shortcut?”
“You just have to know the right way,” Tobias said. “Flynn and I can find it.”
“Ooh, I love a good Tangle,” Alice said, giggling.
“What’s a Tangle?” Guinevere asked.
“Just like the name suggests,” Tobias said. “Space gets tangled up in certain areas of Wonderia. If you know how to navigate it, you can end up… well. Almost wherever you want. We’re coming up on it now. Stay close.”
Just as they reached the Tangle, Tobias slowed, and let everyone catch up. “Stay close” was a serious instruction, and he made sure they were all right up against each other, as close as possible while still being able to move together.
“Next step is the Tangle,” Tobias said. “Follow my lead.”
One step, Tobias was in the thick, quiet forest, softly blanketed by snow.
The next step was into chaos.
The world was tangled up, trees and grass and earth warped and snared and folding in on themselves. Snow and ice shot through the cracks, broke open the sky in a wild whirl of color, colors more dramatic than the wildest storm, the most vivid sunset. And the sky was everywhere, the ground was everywhere, it was all mixed up, all crashing in on each other. It wasn’t just the forest they’d come from, or the snowy town behind, no. There was ocean, salty spray lashing out like a whip and then pouring back into itself. There was sand, falling like rain, soaking into every taut, messy skein of reality. Lightbulbs popped open, their filaments expanding out to miles long, grasping onto slabs of stone and posts of iron, strangling them into warped, melting versions of themselves. Sound, too, was a howl, a chorus of unearthly voices in a nonsense language accompanied by the rush of wind, the roll of thunder, the crash of waves, the roar of fire.
It was chaos. But Tobias and Flynn knew the way through chaos. There was no ground beneath their feet, but each step was sure, grounded.
Someone behind him asked a question, but words were stolen away in the Tangle, new notes and chords adding to the howling symphony of insanity. Tobias looked for what he needed: a landmark. Something that was a part of his destination, something unique to it, that could not be replicated in the Tangle.
Suiren was another town in Northern Wonderia, but where Cuindeigh was a sleepy hamlet, Suiren was an industrial town, famed for its clockwork ingenuity. And there was one very unique invention that had never left Suiren, that never would, for it stood as the town’s icon, a symbol of the engineering excellence the town was famed for.
There! Tobias spotted it — only a part of his goal, but enough that it was unmistakable. Lamplike eyes in a metallic mask, beneath the fringes of a snappy top hat.
Part of the face of Suiren’s central automaton.
Tobias avoided a surge of sand and filament and snow, wending his way carefully through the Tangle. Any errant touch could send them somewhere else entirely, and without clear landmarks, Tobias wouldn’t have any idea where they would lead.
He neared the mask — but saw a problem. Thorny vines were twining around it, vines like he’d never seen before. They certainly didn’t grow in Suiren, or anywhere near it.
A precise touch. All it takes is the merest contact.
He reached out. The mask moved, but his fingers followed it. As he touched it, something strange happened.
Normally, when one touched the icon of their destination, there was a momentary flicker, a shudder in the Tangle. There was a very clear timing to it. It happened a moment after contact.
But Tobias saw the flicker, the shudder, occur at the exact moment he touched the mask. A moment later, the Tangle solidified. The howling chorus quieted. The constant motion stilled. Like pages of a pop-up book, the Tangle folded back.
A new world emerged in its place.
But Tobias narrowed his eyes in confusion.
“This isn’t right,” he said softly, his voice strangely loud in the sudden quiet. “I…”
“What happened?” Alice asked.
Tobias wondered. Someone might have made contact with something else right before he touched the mask. But he couldn’t be sure. The Tangle was the ultimate wilderness, and what he thought he knew was only observations built off of experience. Perhaps something had changed, or he’d encountered something he hadn’t known existed. Whatever had happened…
“We went the wrong way,” Tobias said.
This wasn’t Suiren. This wasn’t Northern Wonderia at all. There was no hint of snow, and the air carried with it not the biting chill of winter, but the gentle cool of spring. The soft blues and whites of Northern Wonderia were here replaced with warm, darker tones — reds and oranges and purples.
Beneath a twilight sky of deep purples and fading red, they stood on a wide stone path, one of many sprawling across the grounds of a grand estate. Low walls rose up around them, blanketed with roses, each red or purple blossom immaculate, perfectly tended. Before them loomed a dark yet beautiful palace, with high spiraling towers and windows of stained glass, each red image sending a chill down Tobias’ spine.
They were images of him. Him, as a king dressed in scarlet, seated atop a crimson throne.
And throughout the walled garden were statues, each one an image of Tobias. Tobias as a king, as a grand, imperious ruler, tall and proud and nothing at all like the real Tobias.
“You can’t have gone the wrong way,” came a lilting, imperious voice. “For all ways are my ways.”
Striding down the path came Saoirse, Queen of Hearts. She’d changed since her fall, no longer wearing scarlet but instead a gown of deep purple, accented not by hearts, but rose blossoms around her waist, upon her chest, in her hair. A high slit on one side of her gown revealed a leg clad in purple stockings, embroidered with a pattern of a climbing rose vine twining round her leg. Her gown’s long train left behind a trail of blooming roses, bursting up from the stone, needing neither soil nor water to thrive under the queen’s power. She carried with her a new scepter, this one a glittering wand of purple, with a crimson rose-blossom jewel atop it.
Tobias hated that her beauty was the first thing he noticed, that she was the most striking flower in this or any garden. He hated even more the way she looked at him, scarlet eyes smoldering with desire.
“You!” Guinevere started, starting to draw her sword. But Saoirse’s scepter flashed with light, and Guinevere cried out as she let go of her sword, shaking her hand from pain as the sword returned to its sheath.
“Ah-ah-ah,” Saoirse said, waving a reproving finger. “I don’t condone violence in my garden. I must say, this is a most unexpected reunion. I’m not quite prepared for guests at the moment. Though, since you’re here…” She spread her arms, gesturing at the grand estate. “It’s far from finished yet, but do you like what I’ve done with the place?”
“How did you survive?” Tobias asked tightly.
“Oh, my dear Tobias,” Saoirse said, smiling at him. “Did you miss me?”
“Hardly,” Tobias said. He took a step forward, but Saoirse’s scepter flashed.
“Ah-ah-ah,” she chided. “Like I said. I’m not prepared for guests just yet.”
Tobias realized now that he couldn’t approach Saoirse. There was something between them, a barrier that could hardly be seen, save by how the light faintly caught it. There was a slight glint, a ghostly reflection of himself between him and Saoirse.
A barrier of glass, a phantom mirror, lay between them.
“But don’t worry, Tobias,” Saoirse said, smiling hungrily at him. “When the time is right, you’ll get my invitation. I’m preparing this place for you, after all. When all is ready, you and I will finally be together.”
“In your dreams,” Tobias said.
“Oh, yes,” Saoirse said. “But soon — in reality. Until then, however, I really don’t need you trapped in my garden. You might see something that could spoil the surprise. So — I’ll just send you on your way. Far, far away, to some distant corner of Wonderia.”
“No!” Sheena said, and she tried to draw her sword — to the same result as Guinevere. “We have to go back. We don’t have time for detours!”
“And what concern is that of mine?” Saoirse asked, with a gleeful smile. “You shattered my palace. I’m sorely disinclined to make things convenient for you.” She raised her hand, middle finger pressed against her thumb.
“Saoirse!” Tobias shouted, taking a step forward. Saoirse halted, like a held breath, eyes slowly turning towards him. Delight bloomed in them at his use of her name. “Send us back where we came from.”
Her smile turned soft, seductive. “Well, since you ask so nicely,” she said, her voice a gentle purr. “I will.”
Tobias stared. This couldn’t be that easy.
And it wasn’t.
Saoirse held up a finger. “On one condition,” she said. “One favor. I can call upon it whenever I wish. And you will provide it. Don’t worry, my dear Tobias. I won’t force you into anything physical. I’ll win your consent, in time.”
Tobias resisted the urge to vomit.
“So,” Saoirse said. “A request of my choosing, at a time of my choosing, that you will fulfill. Promise me this, and I’ll send you where you want to go.”
Tobias glared. His jaw clenched so hard it ached.
“Tobias,” Alice said, taking his hand. “You can’t.”
He knew he couldn’t. There was no way he could trust Saoirse, no way he could become her personal puppet, even for just one request.
But he could see Sheena’s ghostly reflection in the glassy barrier. Could feel her urgency, her desperation, beside him.
“One favor,” Tobias said, over sudden yelled objections — Alice, Guinevere, and Elliot. “I promise.”
Saoirse grinned, joy sparkling in her eyes. “Oh, you just made my day,” she said, spinning in a circle, arms flung wide. “My entire year! Thank you, darling.” She came back around, smiling at Tobias in that way that made him sick. “Until our next meeting, my love.”
She snapped her fingers. And Saoirse, the palace grounds, the roses all fell away.
Tobias fell.
Not very far. He landed in the snow, and quickly got to his feet, shaking himself off. Beside him, Flynn did the same.
He looked around. This wasn’t the forest with the Tangle. This was…
He heard the sound of rushing water, and looked aside to see a great river, a hundred yards wide, its waters foaming as they swept around ice and rock, numerous little islands strewn throughout the river’s path.
The River Farsaing. The barrier between Suiren and the Deep North.
Saoirse hadn’t sent them back where they’d come. She’d sent them where they were going — and a bit farther still.
“I’ll send you where you want to go.”
She’d gone above and beyond her promise, shocking Tobias with her generosity — and making him shiver with dread at what she would ask of him when the time came.
But he couldn’t worry for long. Sounds of combat reached his ears, and Sheena was already running towards the river. Out in the middle of the river, on the largest of the small islands…
Was Asbel.
Even having known what to expect, Tobias had to remind himself that what he saw was Sheena’s brother. Because what stood upon that island, fighting off a squad of five Sword Dancers, was a beast out of a nightmare, a horrifying, misshapen humanoid of monstrous proportions. Huge feet made the ground tremble with each step, and giant hands raked across the stone with jagged claws, each strike barely evaded by the monster’s hunters.
There was a face, deep within the hulking body, and it was the eyes Tobias saw there, small and haunted, the same violet shade as Sheena’s, that anchored him to the man beneath the monster.
Elliot and Guinevere started to run to help Sheena. But Tobias hesitated. He didn’t look towards the river. Instead he turned from it.
If Asbel was here, and some of his pursuers had already caught him…
Then the Hunter couldn’t be far.
“Tobias!” Elliot called. And he came up alongside Tobias and gaped in undisguised dread at the being Tobias had sighted.
Bandersnatch.
The last of the Old Hunters stood at the top of a hill, cutting a sharp, dark silhouette against the horizon. Shrouded in a tattered cloak, he stood stooped, bent half towards the ground, and even hunched like that he was taller than any man, taller even than Charles Baskerville, and nearly as tall as the monstrous form Asbel had taken. Long, slender arms that belied their tremendous strength ended in long, narrow fingers that traced along the ground, as if to draw forth the trail of his prey. Beneath the hood of his great cloak, in the shadows, no face could be made out, only a silhouette — a long, lupine snout with deadly teeth. No eyes glinted in the light, for the Old Hunter had been born blind. He did not need sight to be the deadliest hunter the world would ever know.
At Bandersnatch’s side, the vorpal sword was sheathed, a great blade as long as Tobias was tall, broad and single-edged like a cleaver, ending in a wicked point. The blade that had slain the Jabberwock.
“We’re too late,” Elliot said in a tiny voice.
“We’re not,” Tobias said. And he was surprised at the steadiness of his voice, nothing like the rapid pounding of his heart. He took one step towards Bandersnatch. “Go help Sheena. I’ll buy you enough time to seal Asbel.”
“You can’t fight him alone,” Elliot said.
A furry head thumped affectionately against Tobias’ leg, and he smiled. “I’m never alone,” he said.
Elliot turned away, racing to join the fight around Asbel. Tobias paid them no heed. All his focus needed to be right here.
He marched across the snow towards the Hunter, his black coat billowing in a frigid breeze.
“Bandersnatch!” he yelled, his voice strong despite the icy dread running down his spine. The Hunter’s head turned, slightly. Just a fraction, but it was something — away from his prey, and towards Tobias.
“You want a beast worthy of the hunt?” Tobias asked. He drew his obsidian blade. “Here I am.”
Placing himself between the Hunter and his prey, Tobias banished his fear and charged up the hill, towards the deadliest foe he would ever face.