WonderLand

I ran. I ran and I ran and I ran, and the harder and faster I tried to run the less I felt like I was getting anywhere. Before long, my limbs felt as though I was trying to push them through thick syrup, and it took every once of effort I had to keep moving forwards at all. Eventually I had to stop, consequences be damned, because I had actually stopped moving entirely, no matter how many steps I took. My only saving grace was the fact that I didn't recognize my surroundings in the slightest, and I could no longer hear the sounds of the battle raging behind me.

"What is going on here?" I shouted aloud, to no one in particular. I felt hot tears pricking behind my eyes, and I kicked out violently at a tree. "Nothing ever makes any sense!"

"What doesn't make sense?" A voice piped up from behind me. I spun around, my heart practically leaping out of my chest in terror, only to have my gaze land on none other than the Pig Baby, still in his little bonnet, peering peevishly at me from his perch on a tree stump.

"Pig Baby!" I cried, dashing forward and falling to my knees in front of him. It took all my will power not to scoop the horrid little thing up in my arms and cover him with kisses.

"I know who I am," he snorted grumpily. "What doesn't make any sense?"

"Why can't I run?" I asked him, feeling the tears threatening to spill over again. "It doesn't matter how fast I go, it's like I'm in a bad dream. I could run fine with the Cat-" my breath caught in my throat.

"What, does running fast get you somewhere where you come from? What a slow sort of country!" the pig Baby grunted. "Here, where things are proper, it takes all the running you can do to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least as twice as fast at that! Where is the Cat, by the way?" he asked, glancing around suspiciously. "Wasn't he with you? You are that Alice fellow, right?"

"He's fighting the Jabberwocky," I squeaked, the Pig Baby turning into a blurry pink smear as tears obscured my vision.

"The Jabberwocky!" the Pig Baby exclaimed with a squeal, his tail uncurling. "The Jabberwocky! On your account?" I nodded weakly. "A little creature like you hardly seems worth dying for! Some Alice you are; not even war time yet and you're already having people die for you!"

"I'm not Alice!" I wailed futilely, wiping the snot that dripped from my nose with my sleeve.

"That's not for you to decide," the Pig Baby snorted. "The Caterpillar says you are, so you must be."

"Th-the Caterpillar?" I sniffed, trying to stifle my sobs a little.

"Of course. That's why you're here, isn't it? To see the Caterpillar?" the Pig Baby asked, cocking his head to the side.

"I... I don't know," I admitted. "Isn't he the one who... who came up with the prophecy?" I asked, remembering the mention of someone called the Caterpillar during my tea party with Hatter and Hare.

"Of course, you stupid girl. You really are useless, aren't you?" the Pig Baby remarked. I glowered at him.

"Somebody ought to turn you into bacon. You'd do more good that way. Now where is the Caterpillar? I've got a few words to have with him." I pulled myself together, and stood up, brushing off my pants and facing the Pig Baby with new resolve.

"Ah, such a heartless girl! The Caterpillar is right through there, if you must know," the Pig Baby moaned piteously, giving a little jerk of his bonneted head towards a hanging curtain of twisting ivy vines and creeping undergrowth behind his tree stump.

"Thank you," I replied with officious politeness, and I marched off in the direction he had indicated, hoping my face wasn't too blotchy and tear streaked, for I doubted that would make a terribly good impression with this Caterpillar character.

I pushed my way through the curtain of vines with some difficulty, and for a heart stopping moment when I was entirely engulfed in the plant life, my searching fingers only finding more foliage in front of me, I was afraid I was trapped forever; but finally I broke out of the green prison and stumbled into a bright clearing. After the comparative darkness of the rest of the dense forest, the sudden exposure to the midmorning sunlight left me blinking and blinded. After several seconds, my eyes adjusted, and I saw that I was standing on the outer edge of what might have been a rather large clearing, if it hadn't been for the gargantuan mushroom spreading its cap like a huge umbrella over nearly every inch of available space. The giant fungi actually appeared to be forcing the line of tree around it back, taking up as much room as it could. It was easily as tall as I was, and beneath its shadow, by its stalk--which I doubted I could have wrapped my arms entirely around--countless more miniature versions of itself had popped up, like baby ducklings under their mother's wings. Though as impressive a sight as it was, my attention was almost immediately drawn upwards, to the man sitting atop it.

The first thing I noticed about him was that he was old. I hadn't seen any old people so far in WonderLand, everyone seemed trapped in an ageless state between twenty-something and thirtyish. Yet this man appeared to be in his sixties, as the least. His hair was sparse and white, and stuck up in odd places, though he periodically tried to smooth it flat against his scalp. His face was stern and lined, framed by bushy white eyebrows drawn down into a contemplative frown; and a pair of small, rectangular reading glasses perched precariously at the very end of his comically oversized nose. He was wearing a blue sackcoat with a matching waist coat and trousers, with the white starched wings of his shirt constricting uncomfortably tightly around his neck, and a black ascot tie slowly coming undone every time he fidgeted on his cross legged perch on the mushroom, which he did often. He seemed completely engaged in the long hookah he was quietly smoking, and didn't seem to notice my sudden intrusion in the slightest. I coughed lightly, and the old man seemed finally broken from his reverie and peered around at me, giving a startled little "Oh!" of surprise and almost falling off the mushroom. I waited.

He looked at me for some time in silence, as if sizing me up. At last he took the hookah out of his mouth, and addressed me in a languid, sleepy voice.

"Who are you?" said the Caterpillar.

This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation.

"I should think you of all people should know who I am!" I frowned up at him. "Because of you, I hardly know myself."

"What do you mean by that?" said the Caterpillar, sternly. "Explain yourself!"

"You're the one who has explaining to do!" I pointed out. "Because of you and your Prophecy, I'm stuck here and can't go home, and some crazy Queen is after my head, and all of my friends are hurt or in trouble because of me, and now I'm lost in a forest with nowhere to go and an entire world looking for me!"

"You?" the Caterpillar asked, incredulously.

"Yes, me," I said.

"Who are you?"

I threw up my hands in exasperation.

"Fine! I should have known that this was going to get me nowhere!" I turned to leave, but the Caterpillar hastily called back after me.

"Come back! I've something important to say!"

I turned back, hopefully.

"Keep your temper," said the Caterpillar.

"Is that all?" I said, swallowing my anger as best I could.

"No," said the Caterpillar.

I decided to wait, since there really wasn't much else I could do, and I dared to hope that perhaps he might tell me something worth hearing in between all the nonsense. For some minutes he puffed away without speaking, but at last he unfolded his arms, took the hookah out of his mouth again, and said, "So you think you're changed, do you?"

I frowned at him. "I don't know what you mean. Sir," I added, for good measure.

"You said so yourself, that you hardly knew who you were anymore. Who were you? And who are you now?"

"Well..." I began, slowly. "I was Alex Riverman, a girl from a circus. Now... I don't know. I think I'm still Alex, but everyone else keeps telling me I'm Alice, the girl from the prophecy, who is supposed to save WonderLand." I looked up at the old man, searching his pensive face for answers. For several more long minutes, he quietly sucked his pipe.

"It's no good other people telling you who you are," he finally said. "And it's no good you not knowing either. You can't really know who you are if you're trying to be what everyone else says you should be. Your heart's not really in it. You have to decide for yourself to be what they say you are. You can't just play the part. You have to be willing to transform, to become what you need to. A caterpillar doesn't strap a pair of wings onto its back and call itself a butterfly. You'll never fly like that. I'm afraid, Miss Alexandra Riverman, that you have sent into motion a series of events that will lead to the culmination of several hundred years of betrayal, subterfuge, and warring tensions. WonderLand needs an Alice: a symbol to rally behind, a figure to fight for; and it seems you have been chosen to take that role. However, if you deny it, or simply try to go through the motions without truly believing in your cause, without believing that you can be the turning point of the Great War, then no one else shall believe it either, and WonderLand will fall. The Queen of Hearts wants blood, and by blood she shall be undone.”

I was silent after the Caterpillar’s unexpected speech. Once again, I was being told the same old story I’d heard time and time again. WonderLand had been thrown into turmoil, and before I could even consider going home, I was going to have to do something about the situation here, whether I liked it or not. And like it I didn’t. I barely had enough conviction to do my own laundry, let alone head a rebellion in the take-down of a tyrant Queen.

“Is there really no other way?” I pleaded, hoping against hope I could still some how get out of all this. “Isn’t there anything else that can be done? Like some sort of... diplomatic peace treaty or something? Throw a Magna Carta at the Queen or something and call it day? England has this thing where they have a Parliament, but they let the Queen hang around and do Queen stuff anyway, can’t we work something like that out without all of the... by blood undone nonsense?”

“I’m... afraid I don’t quite follow you,” the Caterpillar said, casting me a uncertain look, “But I assure you, there is no other way. This is the prophecy, child. You have been chosen to fulfill it. If you ever wish to return home, you must first save the home of those of us here.”

I stared sullenly at the ground, trying to think up a valid argument. Unable to think of one, I savagely kicked a flower. “I don’t think I’ve even met anyone worth saving yet,” I sulked.

“Now is that really true?” asked the Caterpillar, gently. I sighed.

“No. It’s not. But I’m not going to pretend I’d be totally broken up over it if the Queen did get you all.”

“I suppose you can’t win all battles,” the Caterpillar mused. He leaned back, sticking the corner of the hookah back in his mouth and puffing on it.

“Well... how am I supposed to go about saving WonderLand anyways? I mean... where do I start? I’m all alone out here; the Queen wants me dead; the Jabberwocky is out there somewhere looking for me; the Cat is flip-flopping sides every time I turn around; I have no idea where I am or where I’m supposed to be going... I don’t think I can do this on my own.”

The Caterpillar gave a little start of surprise. “What? Are you asking me?”

“Of course,” I frowned. “You are the great, prophetic, wise Caterpillar, after all. Surely you can at least point me in the right direction.”

“Oh, mercy child, no! I’ve absolutely no idea! I haven’t left this mushroom in decades! Centuries, perhaps, if my watch is accurate. I haven’t the foggiest. I just smoke the herbs and do the funny voices.”

“Oh lord,” I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. “We’re all doomed.”

“Well, not quite all of us, girly,” came an all too familiar, oily voice from behind me. I spun around, hands balling into fists, and came face to unpleasant face with my old friends, the Dodo and Bill the Lizard.

“See?” Bill snickered. “I told ya them amateur tracking classes would come in handy, Mister Dodo.”

“Shut up, Bill.”

Behind me, I heard the Caterpillar give a squeak of fright. I half turned to look at it, to perhaps plead for him to somehow help, but instead I was just in time to see him gather up his hookah in his arms, and then abruptly vanish in a puff of blue smoke.

“Hey! Wait, where are you going?” I shouted. “You can’t leave me here!”

But it was too late, he was gone. Once again, I was utterly alone. Well, not quite.

The Dodo cleared his throat. He had a wide, greasy leer plastered all over his face, like a cat who had finally cornered the poor little mouse.

“Now Miss Alice, I think it would be in every one’s best interest if you would come quietly, and not make this more difficult than it needs to be.” He smiled sweetly at me, and held out one of his heavily bejeweled hands. I couldn’t help but notice how his rings dangled rather loosely on his once fat fingers. In fact, he appeared to be in rather poor shape over all. He wasn’t nearly as rotund as he had been during out first encounter on the beach, and the heavy bags beneath his maliciously glittering eyes couldn’t quite hide the purple bruise spreading down his cheek.

“Well,” I said, letting my gaze trail over the two worse-for-wear men unsavouringly. “You’ve certainly seen better days. Business not been good to you lately?”

The grin slid off the Dodo’s face with an almost audible squelch. “Don’t make this into a scene, girl. You’re lucky it was us who found you, and not one of the other countless search parties out looking for you. I can assure you, we’ll treat you much kinder than any of them would.”

I scoffed. “What, you mean like the Walrus and the Carpenter would? Or the Cat? Or the Jabberwocky?” I laughed in their faces. “Because I’ve already run into them, and I’ve already gotten away. What do you two losers think you can do to me that they haven’t tried already?”

“Oh, we heard all about that,” the Dodo said.

“Yes yes, all about it, you silly girl,” Bill snorted.

“Shut up, Bill. Yes, we heard all about your little exploits, how you’ve been running circles around everyone the Queen has sent out to capture you. She’s furious about it too, you know. Absolutely livid. She’s already ordered about a dozen more beheadings than her usual weekday average, and even that hasn’t cheered her up in the slightest. Ah, but soon, we’ll take care of that. We’ve got something none of them had.”

“What? Foul body odor?” I suggested. Should I just turn and sprint now, while he’s so wrapped up in hearing himself speak? Or try to take them by surprise and barrel right through them? I could easy outrun them, and I could probably even take them in a fight, one at a time, if I had to. Which way was the Chessboard supposed to be?

“No, you stupid girl,” the Dodo snarled. He reached a hand into his pocket. I tensed, made ready to run. He withdrew something small, something I couldn’t see, clutched in his fist. “We have this,” he said, and he suddenly tossed it to the ground at my.

I leaped back as quickly as I could, but the thing bounced, and landed an inch away from my toes. It was a tiny golden cube, about the size of a thimble. It glittered harmlessly in the fragmented light.

“What-?” I began, and then it exploded.