Though a Looking Glass Darkly: Knight of Cups, Part Two

[going_boldly]

Hatter beached the boat beneath an overhang, and made a crowflight for a pile of large, broad branches to cover the boat. Jelly helped Jack out of the boat, and then went to go help Hatter with the branches.

“Are we meant to be in the Forest of Wabe?” Jack asked as they worked.

“Yes,” Hatter replied. “I don’t know who that weirdo leading the posse is,” Jelly shot him a skeptical look, which he ignored. “But he’s got one hell of a nose for blood. And this is the place to find it.”

There was a long, animalistic whine, as though in response. Jack whirled around, trying to spot the sound’s origin.

“I’m assuming you’ve got some sort of idea how to keep that from being our blood?” Jelly asked, gesturing to where the branches had now covered the boat completely. The branches were old enough, and adequate enough, that she got the impression Hatter had put them there himself. That implied that he must have some idea how to navigate the forest.

“Of course I do,” Hatter replied. “We can’t shake them, and we can’t fight them, so we’re going to trap them. Come on.”

He started up the slope; Jelly followed, tugging Jack along with her. They moved through the forest, uneven terrain causing Jack to stumble every once and a while.

“Keep it down,” Hatter hissed as they came to a clearing. There was another whine, closer this time.

“What was that?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, this the part where you both find a tree you can climb,” Hatter told them.

“And what are you going to be doing?” Jelly demanded.

“I’m going to be bait. Go,” Hatter ordered, and then jogged off in the direction of the sound.

“Bait for what?” Jelly said, following him, Jack close behind her.

“A Jabberwock,” Hatter replied. Jelly stared at him in disbelief.

“Are you insane? Do you have a death wish or something?” she cried.

“Unless you have one, I’d quit it with the questions and start running,” Hatter replied.

“You’re going to lead it back to the posse?”

“Yes!”

“That’s your plan?”

“Yes, now would you just please-”

“It’s here,” Jack interrupted, pointing behind them. They both spun around, and watched as the Jabberwock revealed itself, burbling as it came.

“Run,” Hatter said, and they took off, the Jabberwock following close behind.

Or at least, she and Jack did. Hatter had gone off in the opposite direction; but she really couldn’t worry about that now. Jack was still having trouble navigating the terrain, and if the Jabberwock caught him, she may as well return to the Casino for her execution right then and there. Provided it didn’t get her too, of course.

Sure enough, Jack’s foot caught on a root before too long, and he went tumbling over into a nearby stump. The Jabberwock itself got caught between two trees, pushing forwards in an attempt to reach him. Jelly went for her gun, but before she could draw it out, Hatter appeared, and punched the creature in the face.

The Jabberwock reared back, bellowing in pain, and Jelly stared; Hatter helped Jack to his feet and then pulled her by the arm, and the three of them took off again. They managed to get several cubits away, before falling into a pit trap full of stakes.

“Ow!” Jelly exclaimed, clutching at her arm.

Hatter groaned in agreement next to her. “Everyone alright?”

“Fantastic!”Jack said, not without a touch of hysteria.

The ground shook. “Be quiet,” Hatter whispered, as the Jabberwock came closer. “Stay still.”

Jelly ignored that last bit and reached for her gun. The Jabberwock craned its head into the pit, burbling slightly and exuding the smell of rancid cabbages. It looked down at them, bug-eyed and open-mouthed, and then stuck itself on one of the stakes. It screamed in pain, dislodged itself, and whiffled away.

Hatter coughed, and forced himself upright. Jelly got to her knees and inspected her arm- it was bleeding sluggishly, but was more a scrape than an actual cut, which meant that it was mostly just painful. This likely had a lot to do with the way that the stake had had to rip open the knife sheath she’d had strapped to her arm before it could get to her arm itself.

They’d been lucky. Jack seemed to have missed the stakes altogether, and was now checking his pockets to see if anything had fallen out. Hatter had broken one with his fall, but judging from the way he was moving, that had resulted in bruises rather than a life-threatening injury. That was a bit odd, but that might have something to do with his ability to punch Jabberwocks away. Or maybe he was just wearing a good set of body armor.

“Vermin!” came a shout from above. Jelly looked up, and saw an elderly man in what appeared to be chainmail, armor and a very curly beard. “Saboteurs! Anarchists!”

“Um,” Jelly began, but stopped when she realized that there weren’t any words.

“I was this close to catching him!” the man groused. “This close!”

Jelly blinked. Nope, he was still there.

“Degenerate bagheads,” the man sniffed. “Come up, so that I might have a look at you jolt-headed louts.”

The three of them exchanged looks.

“How?” Jelly demanded, finally, gesturing to the steep side of the pit.

The man looked troubled for a minute, before brightening. “I’ll fetch a rope,” he told them, and then clanked away.

“Was that a knight?” Jelly demanded.

“He looked sort of knight-ish,” Hatter replied uncertainly. Jack began to scrabble around the bottom of the pit, clearly looking for something.

“Is this what you’re missing?” Hatter asked, holding up her knife.

“That’s mine,” Jelly said, as Jack shook his head. She twisted around, found Hatter’s hat, and held it out to him. “Trade?”

“Sure,” Hatter said, and they did.

Jelly looked in dismay at the ruined bit of leather that had been her arm sheath, and put before it and the knife into the jacket pocket. Jack let out a sigh of relief as his hands closed around something that looked like a small box, and the knight-ish man threw a rope down to them, knocking Hatter’s hat off again in the process.

“Oi!” he shouted.

“A thousand apologies for the bad aim!” the old man replied. “Now ascend, you brutish, sheep-biting scuds!”

“Sure, why not?” Jelly said, and took hold of the rope. The sides of the pit were just soft enough that she had difficulty getting enough leverage to climb, but once she’d made it to the edge, the likely-knight helped her up with a snort of “Wayward, shard-born haggard.”

He did the same for Hatter (“Mewling, ill-nurtured lewdster.”) and Jack (“Impertinent, ill-bred harpy.”) before clanking away again, muttering something about horses.

“Well,” Jelly said. “Let’s not do that again.”

“No, let’s not,” Jack agreed swiftly. “Hatter?”

“The posse will have found a place to land and the boat by now,” Hatter said. “Which would mean my plan is defunct.”

“Your plan is what we’re never doing again,” Jack pointed out.

“It also means we’ve got a limited amount of time before the posse finds us,” Hatter continued.

“March will probably latch onto the fact that there’s a Jabberwock in the woods,” Jelly said. “That will put Darrel on his guard.”

“Yeah, but is March going to defer to this Darrel’s judgment?” Hatter questioned.

“He’s the Ten of Clubs. And it would depend on what sort of mood March was in,” Jelly said. “He was probably looking to find whoever killed him, rather than Jack.”

“It would also depend on what sort of mood my mother was in,” Jack added.

“Worse,” Jelly told him. “She was definitely one of her worse moods, when I left, and I don’t think she’s gotten any better since then.”

“Puttocks!” the knight yelled, as he came back into view, leading two horses by the reigns. He left them by the edge of the clearing, and took another look at the pit trap they’d fallen into. “Subverters!” He made his way towards them, face reddening alarmingly. “Pig-pushing flecks!” He shook his fists in the air. “Bug-bashers!”

“Who the hell are you?” Jelly demanded.

“I am a knight!” he informed them.

“No, really?” Jack asked.

“Of course!” The old man marched towards them, and then smiled. “A White Knight, to be precise. Sir Charles Eustace Fotheringhay Le Malvois III.” He drew himself up proudly, chin jutting forwards, before he realized that he hadn’t done anything but confuse them more. “Who are you?”

“I’m Jelly,” she replied, after a beat. “This is Hatter, and Jack.”

“Have you been out here all this time?” Jack demanded.

“What do you mean by that?” Sir Charles said, pushing his face into Jack’s interpersonal space.

“He means we thought all the knights were wiped out years ago,” Hatter clarified.

“Well, you thought wrong, as you can see,” Sir Charles drew himself up again. “I’m as fit as a butcher’s dog.”

“Are there any more of you?” Jack asked.

“Of course not!” Sir Charles said, sounding affronted. “My Nan used to say that if I were the only bachelor left in the world-”

“Knights,” Jelly interrupted. “He meant are there any more knights around?”

“Heavens no,” Sir Charles scoffed. “Are you mad? We were all wiped out years ago.”

“So you dug that pit all on your own?” Hatter asked.

“You think I’m too old?” Sir Charles thundered, charging at them. All three of them began taking cautionary steps back. “Well, let me tell you something, knugface- youth is vastly overrated. I may have put on a few years, but I’m crafty. I have a very inventive mind stacked high with groundbreaking, state-of-the-art ideas. The Beehive Mousetrap, for instance.” He moved away again, back towards the pit. “This here pit, as you so rudely call it,” he marched back to them again “Is, in fact, my third attempt at the Gravity-Assisted Snare, Mark IV.” He turned away from them once more, still projecting indignance.

“You’re mad as a box of frogs,” Hatter declared, reflecting her own thoughts perfectly. “How the hell have you survived?”

Sir Charles spun around, and wiggled his arms a bit. Out of the corner of her eyes, Jelly saw Hatter shake his head in utter bafflement.

“Hmm?” the knight said, as though just noticing that they were still standing there. “Oh yes. I’m a knight, and I’m an inventor, as I’ve said,” he clanked towards them, this time at a much more sedentary pace, “Although, if I’m honest, it’s strictly on a part-time basis.”

“You don’t say,” Hatter muttered.

“And I dabble in the Black Arts, now and then,” Sir Charles continued, given no indication that he’d heard the younger man, “Soothsaying, toenail readings, that sort of thing. Here let me show you! Give me your palm,” he didn’t wait for permission, but grabbed Hatter’s hand and studied it intently, muttering to himself.

“Peachy,” Hatter said, mouth pressed into a thin line. Behind his back, Jelly met Jack’s eyes.

“Don’t look at me,” the prince said, throwing up his hands. “I’m not entirely sure if we’re on the same planet anymore.”

“GAH!” Sir Charles yelled, causing them all to jump. Quicker than Jelly would have believed him capable of being, he dropped Hatter’s hand and grabbed Jack’s. “What’s that on your finger?”

“Nothing,” Jack said, too quickly to be believed. He tried to jerk his hands out of the old man’s grip, but the knight held fast. “It’s the sacred ring, the Stone of Wonderland!”

“What?” Jelly and Hatter asked as one, rounding on him. Jack stared back at them, wide-eyed, as Sir Charles held his hand up so that the Stone glittered in the afternoon sun.

“You stole the Stone of Wonderland?” Jelly demanded.

Jack didn’t reply, but instead tugged himself free of the knight. Sir Charles for his part dropped to his knees and began to moan. “It is meant to be! This time, this place-”

“You stole! The Stone! Of Wonderland!” Jelly repeated.

“Yes, I stole the Stone of Wonderland,” Jack replied, straightening his tie.

“This meeting in woods,” Sir Charles continued to groan.

“When?” Jelly demanded. “You weren’t wearing that when we rescued you!”

Jack didn’t reply.

“The stars are aligned in a cosmic ray of hope!” Sir Charles gushed.

“Did you have that on you the entire time?” Jelly pressed.

“No, I teleported back to the Looking Glass while we were running from the Jabberwock and stole it then,” Jack snapped.

“Really?” Sir Charles said, sounding impressed.

“No!” Jack said. “I took it with me when I escaped. When Agent White captured me, he took it, and then when you rescued me I got it back and stuck it in my pocket. It fell out in the pit-”

“Gravity-Assisted Snare Mark IV!” Sir Charles interjected.

“And so I thought I’d put it on my finger for safekeeping, as it looks like we’ll be doing a lot more running from Suits in the future,” Jack finished.

Sir Charles levered himself up, chin jutting proudly forwards once more. “Jack, Hatter, Jelly. I, Sir Charles Eustace Fotheringhay Le Malvois III, White Knight and Guardian of the Curtsey, would be honored to escort you and the Stone to safety.”

“That’s very kind of you, Charlie,” Hatter began, after a beat.

“And we accept,” Jelly finished for him.

“We do?” Jack asked.

“Am I the only sane person here?” Hatter demanded.

“Look, he’s one hundred and fifty years old and nuttier than a fruitcake, but he’s lasted this long. He probably knows a thing or two,” Jelly said. Both men stared back at her, unconvinced.

“And he has horses,” Jelly pointed. “We’ll cover more ground on horseback than we will on foot.”

“That’s correct!” Charlie said brightly. “Come along, vassals.”

“Did he just call us vessels?” Hatter asked.

“I don’t even,” Jack began, before giving up. “Let’s just get out of the forest before Mad March catches us.”

~*~

There were only two horses, which meant that they would have to double up. Jelly looked at Hatter and Jack for a moment, before deciding that as entertaining at it might be to have them partner up, there was no way it wouldn’t end in a gunshot. Jack rode behind Charlie; Hatter and Jelly followed behind, their horse dragging a net that obscured their prints.

“Well, they always said that there were things in this woods that defied imagination,” Hatter said, after having gotten used to the swaying rhythm of Guinevere. Before Jelly could reply, Charlie burst into song.

“Hey nonny-nonny!” he called out. “Hey nonny-nonny! Heeeeeeeeey nonny-nonny!”

Jack turned around as much as he could in the saddle, and sent them a speaking look. Jelly beamed back at him, and figured Hatter was probably doing the same: at any rate, he turned back a few minutes later, looking like he was about to brain himself on the knight’s armor.

“This isn’t what you imagined?” Jelly joked.

“Hell no,” Hatter scoffed, then, after a moment of silence added “Well, I did have a few thoughts about taking you out on a horse ride.”

“Oh?” Jelly asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” Hatter replied. “We’d be out on our own, and I’d ask you if you were comfy-”

“I’d point out that we were on a horse,” Jelly interrupted.

“And then I’d suggest that you lean back,” Hatter continued, a smile in his voice. “And let my body take the weight.”

“Like this?” Jelly asked playfully, leaning back into his chest, careful not to disturb the reigns.

“Yeah,” Hatter purred into her ear.

“And the wind and the rain!” Charlie sang, even more loudly.

“Of course,” Hatter added. “We’d also be without the prince, Stone, and musical accompaniment, in my imagination.”

“Sounds like we’d be ditching the horse soon, too,” Jelly pointed out.

“You read my mind.” Hatter sighed, and straightened a bit. “Back to work then?”

“I suppose so,” Jelly said, straightening herself.

“Well then,” Hatter said. “What’s Jack’s deal?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” Jelly said.

“I mean, why exactly is he here? What’s his angle?”

“I don’t know,” Jelly replied. “I just found out he was Resistance a few hours ago.”

Hatter didn’t respond.

“It makes sense, though,” Jelly explained. “He’s not really the bloodthirsty sort, and his relationship with his parents pretty much runs the gamut from nonexistent to tumulus as a result. It’s kind of why he’s heir presumptive, and engaged to Duchess.”

“Duchess?” Hatter inquired.

“It’s-” complicated in an incredibly fucked-up way “sort of an arranged thing.”

“So, he wants the throne for himself, then,” Hatter guessed.

“That would be my guess,” Jelly admitted.

“So he comes into contact with the Resistance, and they what? Ask him to run off to the Other Side with the Stone?”

“That seems to be what happened,” Jelly said, shrugging.

“I mean, getting the Ring out of the Queen’s control is one thing,” Hatter said. “I can see that. Without the Ring, the Looking Glass fails. When the Looking Glass fails, the Tea fails. Without the Tea there’s no quick fix, and without her quick fix the Queen falls. But why entrust it to Jack?”

“Well he would have access to it,” Jelly pointed out. “Having him in the Resistance is probably a good thing, as far as setting up a government that people would recognize.”

“Dodo probably wouldn’t,” Hatter told her.

“Color me shocked,” Jelly said, deadpan.

“He’s really attached to the idea of making Wonderland into a republic,” Hatter explained, “With himself as the head republican, of course.”

“Naturally,” Jelly snorted.

They went along their way in relative silence for a time, leaving the Forest of Wabe behind and galumphing down the Fungiferous Foothills. Charlie sang, the horses plod, and finally Jelly asked “Why work for him, then?”

“Huh?” Hatter said.

“Why work for Dodo?” Jelly clarified.

“Well, he is as high up as I went in the Resistance, until yesterday,” Hatter pointed out. “And he took me in after my mother died. I would say that I owed him a bit for that, but considering how he acted after my father went, I’m going to go with not so much. There are other people in the Library besides him, and some of them I do owe, so I put up with his shit more often than not.”

A head of them, Charlie stopped singing, pulled his mount to the left, and pulled back a curtain of willow leaves.

“Welcome,” he announced grandly. “To the City of the Knights.”

Jelly looked out past the knight and prince; the view was spectacular. The building stood, weathered but still upright, on either side of a crevasse, poking out of wild woodland and a fluvial system that included a few waterfalls.

“Well, well,” Hatter said quietly. “What do you know?”

“How is it still standing?” Jack asked. “I thought it burnt to the ground!”

“It’s made of stone, lunkhead,” Charlies scoffed. “Wood burns, cloth burns, crops burn, animals burn, and people burn.” Jack flinched violently. “Stone doesn’t.”

Charlie led them down a hazardous looking path and into a stable. Hatter slid off of Guinevere, and then held out a hand to help her down. She took it briefly, and the followed Charlie as the knight led them on foot over the bridge and around the twisting alleys of the city.

“Before the war with the Queen of Hearts, this was the greatest city in the realm,” Charlie bragged. “The Red King and his elected Council ruled Wonderland with the wisdom of the ages. We lived in harmony for a thousand years.”

“And then the Hearts destroyed everything,” Jack finished for him wearily.

“When the Queen came to power, she only wanted to feel the good, not the bad,” Charlie confirmed. “Believe it or not, this was once the throne room. Now, all that’s left is the throne.”

And the skeleton of the Red King, sitting still with his crown on his head and his sword in hand. Jack swallowed audibly.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he told Charlie stiffly, not meeting his eyes.

“Yes, well,” Charlie replied. “That’s enough of that. Who wants to be helpful and gather wood for a fire?”

“I will,” Jelly volunteered.

“You know the difference between kindling and tinder and logs?” Charlie asked gravely.

“Yes,” Jelly replied. It might have been years since she’d gone with her family to Heather Hills, but she still remembered-

Oh god. Her father.

Between being chased by Mad March and the Jabberwock and finding Charlie she hadn’t even thought. Was he okay? Was he out? Gryphon had promised, but Gryphon was dead, and she wasn’t sure what a dead man’s word was worth in the Resistance. She’d been seen. She’d shot off March’s ear, for crying out loud. There was no way that would go unanswered. If he was still there, they could- they might-

“Then you can show these two miscreants how it’s done,” Charlie proclaimed.

“What?” Alice asked, and then gave herself a mental shake. “I mean, yeah, of course.”

“Good,” Charlie proclaimed, and then clanked off.

“Okay,” Jelly said, turning to the men. “Let’s spread out.”