Mad About the Hatter (23 page)

The crocodiles’ yawning jaws snapped closed like a dozen doors slamming shut, and their massive bodies maneuvered into a makeshift path leading from the riverbank to a small dock at the rear of the castle courtyard. Their mouths remained closed, but their eyes rolled, watching Leonard and the rest of the party.

“Very good, men, er… crocodiles. You shall allow me and my guests to pass unharmed.” Leonard’s voice was loud and commanding. He wagged a finger at one of the biggest crocodiles in the bunch. “That goes for you too, Peabody. Take one nip out of anyone, and I’ll have you made into a pair of boots. See if I don’t.”

The crocodile rolled its eyes and huffed, but its mouth remained closed up tight.

Leonard glanced at Henry and Hatter. “He ate a Red Guard the last time we came through. Only a small one, it’s true, but really, I can’t have my stepping stones eating my guards regardless of how big they are.” He patted Henry on the shoulder. “Oh, don’t look so terrified, Henry. I’ve strengthened the spell since then too. Now, off we go, before my wife finds out we’re here.”

Sweeping the bottom of his cape up over the crook of his arm, Leonard gingerly stepped on the back of the closest crocodile, then lightly hopped to the next, and so forth, until he at last reached the dock. He turned and beckoned to Hatter and Henry. “Come on, stop dawdling!”

Hatter grabbed Henry’s hand. “Ready?”

“Not really,” Henry said, glancing down at the toothy crocodiles. “But I suppose we have no choice.”

“It’ll be fine. Trust me,” Hatter said. “Have I steered you wrong yet?”

Henry pulled his hand away. “Seriously? You almost got me stung to death on Stinging Hill, blown up in the Confection Mountains, eaten by tree sharks in the Neverglades, and let’s not even talk about—”

“Tut-tut,” Hatter said, placing a finger over Henry’s lips, effectively silencing him. “Almost only counts in unicorn jousting and Bandersnatch baiting. You’re standing here all in one piece, none the worse for the wear, aren’t you?”

Henry snorted, which made Hatter pull his hand away, wiping his fingers on the front of his coat. “Ew. I would do nicely without a fistful of your snot, Henry, thank you very much.”

“Then don’t put your hand under my nose.” Henry shrugged and grinned, his eyes twinkling.

Hatter couldn’t help but return Henry’s smile. “It’s a good thing I like you.”

“Yeah, well, I like you too.”

Hatter wondered why those words made him feel as if he could fly across the moat. A small voice in his head whispered,
Because you’re glad he likes you, since you’re beginning to feel more for him than mere friendship.

He smiled wider, and didn’t bother to pretend to disagree with himself.

Holding hands, they hopped across the crocodiles’ backs and reached the other side without either of them getting so much as a dirty look from any of the crocs.

The guard followed them, one by one. Peabody behaved himself right up until the very last guard was crossing over. Then he lifted his great head out of the water and snapped at the guard’s right boot.

Hatter could swear Peabody was laughing when the guard let out a bloodcurdling shriek and lost his balance. Pinwheeling his arms, the guard fell backward into the water. Amid much splashing and cursing, the guard managed to swim to the dock and his fellow guards pulled him out of the water.

Leonard shook his finger at Peabody again, but was laughing too hard to admonish the crocodile. Instead, he tried to control his snickering as he walked up to the castle’s door.

It was a small door as such things go, unlike the giant, ornately carved doors at the front of the castle. They were for show; this one was purely for ordinary use. It was locked, but clicked open at the sound of the Red King’s voice.

Opening it, Leonard ushered them all inside the Red Castle.

Now, nothing stood between them and the Red Queen. It was time for a showdown.

O
NCE
INSIDE
,
the group found themselves in the Red Castle dungeon. It looked every bit as grim, dirty, and hopeless as Henry imagined dungeons would be. Nothing was clean; not the floors, the walls, the bars, the cells, nor the few prisoners they spotted in the dim recesses of the dank, narrow cubicles. The smell was positively noxious, thick with the stench of moldy hay, rancid food, and other odors best left unidentified. Most of the inmates looked as bad as the cells, and judging from the lengths of their beards, as if they’d been in there a long, long time. Henry even remarked on it to Hatter.

Hatter shook his head. “Oh, I can’t say they’ve been here for very long. Those are Furfaces, from a village in the northeast. Funny group of folks. Everyone in their tribe has a beard, even the women and children, except for the youngest babies. They use their beards as currency. Need to purchase a new pair of boots? Lop off an inch or two of your chin whiskers to pay for them. The seller braids that bit of hair into his own beard, making it longer and fuller, and therefore wealthier. Besides, during my unfortunate incarceration here, I was the only prisoner. They must’ve come in after I left. Funny, that. The Queen usually doesn’t bother with troublesome prison sentences when a quick head-rolling will do.”

One of the gaunt, hairy prisoners came up to the bars of his cell, peering intently at them. “Bless my beard! Can it be? Is that really… it is!” He turned his head and hissed at his fellow inmates. “Take a knee and show some respect for our King!” He dipped down on one knee, bowing his head. His long, full beard brushed the floor, collecting bits of dust like a mop. “Your Majesty! We all thought you dead!”

Leonard stepped up, and nodded formally to the bearded man. “Please stand. As you can see, I am still among the living. I’ve been on sabbatical these past few years, studying subjects of, er, great importance and relevance to the whole of Wonderland.” Leonard shot Hatter a cautionary look as if warning him not to say anything to the contrary. For once Hatter took the hint and remained silent. “Tell me, how did men of the Furface Tribe come to be in my dungeon?”

The first hairy man spoke. “I am Neckbeard, Tribal Elder. Beg pardon, sire, but it was your wife who put us here. The Queen found us guilty of treason and sentenced us to the Axe. The Axe, however, was dull from its recent overuse, and we were put here until it was sufficiently sharp again.”

Leonard’s bushy white eyebrows shot up. “I have never known the Furface Tribe to be the cause of difficulties before. What did you do to be found guilty of such a heinous crime?”

“She….” Neckbeard’s face—what little could be seen peeking from under his facial hair—paled, and tears came to his eyes. “Oh, it was horrible, Your Majesty! She ordered us, the Furface People of the North, to… to shave!”

The men behind him moaned aloud as if in pain, and gathered up their beards, holding them protectively in their hands.

“Great heavens!” Leonard gasped, and put a hand to his chest. “What was she thinking? It would be easier to get the Cheshire Cat to change his stripes than convince a Furface to shave his beard! They’re part of who you are, like the color of your eyes, or the shape of your ears. How dare she condemn you for the simple act of being as Nature intended you to be?” He turned to Hatter and Henry. “That seals it. I can no longer doubt my wife’s incompetence. She is a threat and danger to everyone in Wonderland that I cannot and
will
not tolerate a moment longer.”

“Oh, Your Majesty! I knew you wouldn’t forsake your people!” Neckbeard plucked out a nice-sized patch of chin hair, wincing as he did so. “Please accept this small token of our appreciation.” He held it out to Leonard, who graciously accepted the curl of silver hair and stuffed it into a pocket.

“Your gift is generous, as is your spirit.” Leonard touched the lock on the cell door, which immediately clicked open. “By order of the Red King, you and your men are free, Neckbeard. Go in peace, and know your tribe will be safe from any and all shears, and held in high esteem by the Throne.” He turned back to Hatter and Henry. “I’m going to tell the crocodiles to allow Neckbeard and his men to safely cross the moat. Then we’re going to find my wife and settle this nonsense once and for all!”

Henry watched the Furfaces as they followed Leonard out the back door, and absently rubbed the peach fuzz on his own chin. Imagine, condemning someone for simply refusing to shave! It didn’t make sense to him. What skin was it off the Red Queen’s nose if the Furfaces had beards? No one was telling her
she
had to grow one.

Personally, he was a little jealous of the Furfaces. According to Hatter, even the kids of the tribe had beards. He’d always thought he might like to grow one, a goatee, maybe, or at least a nice, full mustache. Unfortunately, it was difficult for him to grow anything more than a sparse dusting on his cheeks, and when he did, it was such a light blondish-red it was barely noticeable. He shaved more for the sake of shaving than any real need, although he’d never admit it. His lack of facial hair was a sore point with him, and he was more than envious of the Furfaces’ thick beards.

Even Hatter had dark, sexy stubble shadowing his jaw. It wasn’t thick enough for Henry to call it a beard, but it wasn’t spotty or scraggly, either. Actually, now that Henry thought about it, Hatter’s stubble suited him perfectly, and made Hatter seem just a tiny bit dangerous and wild.

“How long were you in the dungeon for, Hatter?” he asked as a way of distracting himself from the very tempting notion to touch Hatter’s cheeks and feel that scratchy stubble against his palm. He was almost sorry he asked when Hatter’s smile dropped away, and a frown puckered his brow.

“Too long.” He seemed to consider the question for a bit. “How many years has Alice been back in her world after her second trip to Wonderland?”

Henry thought for a moment. “She was seven and a half or so then, I think, and she’s twenty-two now. That’s fourteen and a half years. I was only two and a half when she came back. I grew up hearing her stories of Wonderland.”

Hatter’s voice was very soft. “Fourteen and a half years? It felt like much longer.”

Henry turned to him, his mouth hanging open in shock. “You were locked up here for that long? Alice said you were already grown when she met you at the Tea Party. How old
are
you?”

A small, sad smile lifted Hatter’s lips. “Older than yesterday, and younger than tomorrow.”

“Come on, Hatter. I need a better answer than that.”

“Do you?” Hatter sighed. “I suppose you’re right. The truth is I don’t know. I was twenty when the Queen found me guilty of murdering Time, and Time cursed me into the never-ending Tea Party. I really don’t know how long I was in there, but when I escaped, everyone I knew seemed so much older to me, and we know fourteen and a half years have passed since Alice’s last visit. Trouble is, I haven’t aged at all. I can’t. Even though I escaped the Tea Party, Time hasn’t lifted its curse. I’ll be twenty years old forever.”

“Well, that’s kind of cool, isn’t it? Never to grow old?”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? I thought so too, in the beginning. I’ve had time to consider the matter, though, and don’t find the proposition so very wonderful after all. Henry, there’s a reason it’s called a curse. I won’t change, but eventually, everyone I know and love will grow old and die, and I’ll be left here all alone. I’ll meet new people, I suppose, and grow to love them, perhaps, but then I’ll lose them to Time and death too, again and again, forever.”

The true scope of Hatter’s curse hit Henry like a punch to the gut, and he gasped. He spontaneously threw his arms around Hatter, patting his back, although he didn’t know if he was comforting Hatter or himself. He couldn’t help it. Hatter looked so incredibly sad, he was sorry he’d brought the subject up at all. How awful, to watch everyone you love grow old and die! Hatter would never find anyone to grow old with because Hatter would never age. “I’m sorry, Hatter.”

Hatter leaned into him for a minute, resting his cheek on Henry’s shoulder before pulling away. “Never you mind. It’s all right. I’ve nearly grown used to the idea.” The smile he tried to summon was so cheerless and resigned it only made Henry feel worse, though.

Hatter pointed at the third cell on their left. “That one was mine. Gah! I’d hoped never to see it again.” He chuckled, but Henry didn’t think he sounded very amused.

Leonard came back from seeing the Furfaces out, and stood waiting by a stone archway. “Come on, cheer up now, Hatter. You’re free, and I’ll make certain you never see the inside of a cell again.”

Leonard disappeared through the archway, and they hurried to catch up. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” Hatter said. “That comes as a relief.”

“I should say so,” Henry added. He shivered, thinking of himself forced to spend any length of time at all in one of the cramped, filthy cells. He doubted prisons in his own world were much better, and promised himself that when he got back—if he got back—he wouldn’t break the law. Not so much as jaywalk. There was no way he was going to jail if he could help it, not in his own world and definitely not in this one

They found themselves standing in a narrow corridor. The walls were soaring hedges, grown to many feet above the tallest Red Guard’s head. They were thick, impenetrable walls of green, filled with many long, sharp thorns. Gazing up, Henry realized he could see the sky. The hedges were grown in some sort of open courtyard within the Red Castle walls.

“Ah, the Great Hedge Maze. I always loved taking long walks in there. So peaceful,” Leonard whispered. “I once got lost in there for over a week. It was the best seven days of my marriage in recent memory.”

“Never fear,” Hatter said. He rummaged in his pocket, pulling out several items—a mug, a photo frame, and the up-brella Henry remembered from their escape from the Red Anthill—and handing them to Henry to hold, before pulling out a folded piece of paper. The paper looked old, creased and browned with age. He carefully unfolded it, holding it out in front of him.