The usual toughness, the defiant
jaw-clench, were absent from Molly’s expression. “Dad,” she
said,
crying, for the first time not trying to prove herself an adult in need of no one. Hatter went to her and held her close. “I didn’t know,” he said. He lifted her face to his: the watery eyes in which he saw so much of Weaver. “Your mother never wanted to leave you.” There was so much to explain, to try and make up for. But they didn’t have time. “Please stay here, Molly, and keep watch over your mom,” he said.
“Where are you going?”
“Up.” He was donning the Four Card’s keypad and the ammo belts whose inner circuitry comprised the crystal communicator. “I won’t be gone long.” He folded his top hat into a stack of blades and sealed them in the inner pocket of his coat. He removed two crowbar-shaped weapons from his backpack, which he left next to Weaver, and stepped out of the cave. Thinking back on his last time here, he remembered nothing suspicious, nothing that hinted at why Arch and Ripkins had come to Talon’s Point the day they found Weaver. But there was still one part of the mountain that Hatter hadn’t considered before. Arch had wanted him to climb the tallest spire of Heart Palace; and Arch had been here, at the highest elevation in Wonderland. Why? Hatter stared up at the icy rock that narrowed to a point somewhere above the clouds. He slammed the short, chisel-like ends of his crowbars into the ice and rock and began to climb, placing his feet in crags and outcroppings for support whenever possible. Higher and higher he climbed, entering the cloud layer in which he couldn’t see even an arm’s length above him. But still he slammed the weapons into the rock, still he climbed. At last, he pushed his head above the clouds. The summit was within view, but not until he nearly reached it did he sight what was beyond belief: a gigantic web made of different colored caterpillar thread stretching as far as he could see toward Wondertropolis. A yellowish thread had been wound around the point, its other end obviously secured to some other high spot in the land, just as the orange and green and red threads that crossed it must have been secured to the tops of volcanoes and skyscrapers. Hatter pressed the dispatch button on his communicator’s keypad. “This is Hatter Madigan!” he shouted into the raw, whipping wind. “I must speak to Queen Alyss immediately!” The generals’ voices came back at him through the crystal communicator, small in the vast space around him. “Hatter Madigan!”
They were unsure of his motives—he had disobeyed the queen, defected—and were inclined to deny his request, but Bibwit, sitting at his control desk in the crystal chamber, overheard the exchange and dialed in to Hatter’s frequency.
“Hatter,” the tutor said, “what are you—” Alyss stepped to the control desk. “Hatter?” “I’m not a traitor, Your Majesty.”
“I know that.”
“When the fighting is over, if I’m still alive, I will welcome whatever disciplinary action you command for my disobedience. But right now, I need to show you this.” With another press of a button, he transmitted a visual of the immense web extending through the sky. “Wha—?” Bibwit gasped.
crying, for the first time not trying to prove herself an adult in need of no one. Hatter went to her and held her close. “I didn’t know,” he said. He lifted her face to his: the watery eyes in which he saw so much of Weaver. “Your mother never wanted to leave you.” There was so much to explain, to try and make up for. But they didn’t have time. “Please stay here, Molly, and keep watch over your mom,” he said.
“Where are you going?”
“Up.” He was donning the Four Card’s keypad and the ammo belts whose inner circuitry comprised the crystal communicator. “I won’t be gone long.” He folded his top hat into a stack of blades and sealed them in the inner pocket of his coat. He removed two crowbar-shaped weapons from his backpack, which he left next to Weaver, and stepped out of the cave. Thinking back on his last time here, he remembered nothing suspicious, nothing that hinted at why Arch and Ripkins had come to Talon’s Point the day they found Weaver. But there was still one part of the mountain that Hatter hadn’t considered before. Arch had wanted him to climb the tallest spire of Heart Palace; and Arch had been here, at the highest elevation in Wonderland. Why? Hatter stared up at the icy rock that narrowed to a point somewhere above the clouds. He slammed the short, chisel-like ends of his crowbars into the ice and rock and began to climb, placing his feet in crags and outcroppings for support whenever possible. Higher and higher he climbed, entering the cloud layer in which he couldn’t see even an arm’s length above him. But still he slammed the weapons into the rock, still he climbed. At last, he pushed his head above the clouds. The summit was within view, but not until he nearly reached it did he sight what was beyond belief: a gigantic web made of different colored caterpillar thread stretching as far as he could see toward Wondertropolis. A yellowish thread had been wound around the point, its other end obviously secured to some other high spot in the land, just as the orange and green and red threads that crossed it must have been secured to the tops of volcanoes and skyscrapers. Hatter pressed the dispatch button on his communicator’s keypad. “This is Hatter Madigan!” he shouted into the raw, whipping wind. “I must speak to Queen Alyss immediately!” The generals’ voices came back at him through the crystal communicator, small in the vast space around him. “Hatter Madigan!”
They were unsure of his motives—he had disobeyed the queen, defected—and were inclined to deny his request, but Bibwit, sitting at his control desk in the crystal chamber, overheard the exchange and dialed in to Hatter’s frequency.
“Hatter,” the tutor said, “what are you—” Alyss stepped to the control desk. “Hatter?” “I’m not a traitor, Your Majesty.”
“I know that.”
“When the fighting is over, if I’m still alive, I will welcome whatever disciplinary action you command for my disobedience. But right now, I need to show you this.” With another press of a button, he transmitted a visual of the immense web extending through the sky. “Wha—?” Bibwit gasped.