“Arch!” Redd aimed her scepter at
him as if to strike a blow with her imagination.
Amused, Arch said, “Coming, Your Imperial Viciousness,” and hopped into the saddle behind her. Spurred on, the spirit-dane loped toward Boarderland, carrying Redd and Arch into a future that could never accommodate both of them.
CHAPTER 47
T HE REPORTS were identical to the ones received after the Crystal Continuum had been rendered useless. Conjurers were unable to conjure, writers unable to write, inventors unable to invent, musicians unable to play their instruments or compose. The sole difference between WILMA and Arch’s prototype lay in degree, scope. WILMA had left imaginationists throughout Wonderland without their abilities. “If I myself hadn’t seen the Heart Crystal as dim as a volcanic rock,” Bibwit said, “I wouldn’t have thought it possible. Whatever else has happened, the universal imagination has been scrambled, and I pray this is merely a temporary problem, as it was in the continuum crisis. But I do grow paler than usual when I consider what might have occurred if Hatter had done Arch’s bidding and sewn the caterpillar thread over the city’s center.”
They were in Heart Palace’s war room—Bibwit, Alyss, General Doppelgänger, and Dodge. Waking from WILMA’s shock in the gobbygrape arbor, Dodge had found no evidence of The Cat. With Redd’s forces retreating, and with coaxing from Alyss, he had reluctantly come back to the palace. “We’re lucky Redd thinks you still have imagination,” Bibwit said. “Does she?” Alyss asked, watching Dodge. “There’s no other reason for her to retreat.” The general cleared his throat. “How long are Hatter Madigan and Homburg Molly to remain at Talon’s Point?”
“Long enough to grieve,” said Bibwit.
The force of WILMA had knocked Hatter off the mountain’s peak, but he had slowed his fall to the mouth of the cave by raking his crowbars down the rock. Inside the cave, he’d found Molly woozy but uninjured. He had climbed back to the summit and cut as many of the caterpillar threads as he could reach. The loose ends flapped and furled and the entire web had crackled into dust and been carried every which way by the wind. Weaver would be given a proper funeral. Hatter would mourn her death a second time, but at least now he would do it with his daughter. In the war room, General Doppelgänger said, “Hatter has always exemplified devoted service, but Queen Alyss, he did disobey you. I can’t help wondering if he should not be subjected to the same tribunal that a Two Card would be.”
“Hatter expects punishment,” Alyss said. “He welcomes it. But the fact is, General, that if he hadn’t gone to Boarderland when I told him not to, Redd might at this moment be wearing Wonderland’s crown.” The general bowed his head, satisfied, and consulted his crystal communicator. “Redd’s army isn’t retreating quietly,” he announced. “We’re still receiving reports of intermittent skirmishes. The good news is that we’ve captured enough Boarderland tribespeople to fill a smail-transport.” Alyss nodded. She wanted to be alone with Dodge, to whisper in his ear, How strangely free I feel
Amused, Arch said, “Coming, Your Imperial Viciousness,” and hopped into the saddle behind her. Spurred on, the spirit-dane loped toward Boarderland, carrying Redd and Arch into a future that could never accommodate both of them.
CHAPTER 47
T HE REPORTS were identical to the ones received after the Crystal Continuum had been rendered useless. Conjurers were unable to conjure, writers unable to write, inventors unable to invent, musicians unable to play their instruments or compose. The sole difference between WILMA and Arch’s prototype lay in degree, scope. WILMA had left imaginationists throughout Wonderland without their abilities. “If I myself hadn’t seen the Heart Crystal as dim as a volcanic rock,” Bibwit said, “I wouldn’t have thought it possible. Whatever else has happened, the universal imagination has been scrambled, and I pray this is merely a temporary problem, as it was in the continuum crisis. But I do grow paler than usual when I consider what might have occurred if Hatter had done Arch’s bidding and sewn the caterpillar thread over the city’s center.”
They were in Heart Palace’s war room—Bibwit, Alyss, General Doppelgänger, and Dodge. Waking from WILMA’s shock in the gobbygrape arbor, Dodge had found no evidence of The Cat. With Redd’s forces retreating, and with coaxing from Alyss, he had reluctantly come back to the palace. “We’re lucky Redd thinks you still have imagination,” Bibwit said. “Does she?” Alyss asked, watching Dodge. “There’s no other reason for her to retreat.” The general cleared his throat. “How long are Hatter Madigan and Homburg Molly to remain at Talon’s Point?”
“Long enough to grieve,” said Bibwit.
The force of WILMA had knocked Hatter off the mountain’s peak, but he had slowed his fall to the mouth of the cave by raking his crowbars down the rock. Inside the cave, he’d found Molly woozy but uninjured. He had climbed back to the summit and cut as many of the caterpillar threads as he could reach. The loose ends flapped and furled and the entire web had crackled into dust and been carried every which way by the wind. Weaver would be given a proper funeral. Hatter would mourn her death a second time, but at least now he would do it with his daughter. In the war room, General Doppelgänger said, “Hatter has always exemplified devoted service, but Queen Alyss, he did disobey you. I can’t help wondering if he should not be subjected to the same tribunal that a Two Card would be.”
“Hatter expects punishment,” Alyss said. “He welcomes it. But the fact is, General, that if he hadn’t gone to Boarderland when I told him not to, Redd might at this moment be wearing Wonderland’s crown.” The general bowed his head, satisfied, and consulted his crystal communicator. “Redd’s army isn’t retreating quietly,” he announced. “We’re still receiving reports of intermittent skirmishes. The good news is that we’ve captured enough Boarderland tribespeople to fill a smail-transport.” Alyss nodded. She wanted to be alone with Dodge, to whisper in his ear, How strangely free I feel