Page 4 of Alec in Wonderland (Rainbow Tales #1)

“Halt!” Someone stepped into their path.

Alec and Val had been walking for over an hour. The time had passed quickly, gobbled up by the strange sights that lined the path. Extraordinary plants, some of which appeared to be sentient, grew in abundance, and even stranger wildlife roamed among those plants. Even the insects were bizarre. A rocking horse the size of his thumb flew by him on dragonfly wings, neighing while swaying back and forth. Then there was the bread-and-butterfly, its sliced bread wings tinted a bright buttery yellow. Fluffy dandelions growled at him, vines crept over the trees like snakes, and bushes whipped anything that came too close.

Still, Alec didn't panic. He kept following Val through tunnels of twisted branches and thickets full of yellow eyes that watched him from the darkness. At least Val had stopped tapping that damn pocket watch. That is until now.

“Oh, do step aside!” Val said as he pulled out the watch and tapped it. “The time, you idiot! We're late!”

“Oh, it's you,” the brawny man said as he looked Val over.

“Who's you?” an identical man asked as he joined the first.

Beyond their impressive height and girth, the men were rather average. With brown hair cut in a military style, brown eyes, and brownish skin, they were sort of bland and monochrome. Alec couldn't tell what ethnicity they were. Something mixed. But those muscles—wow. They formed a wall across the path by merely standing there.

“He's you,” the first man said.

“No, I'm me,” the second man said.

“Enough!” Val screeched. “Get out of the way, Andee! You know who I am and you know who I'm bringing to the war council!”

“Is that him?” Andee asked.

“I thought he was you?” the second man chimed in.

“Do, shut up, Adum!” Val snapped at the second man. “And move aside, both of you!”

“Yes, sir!” Andee and Adum snapped to attention, saluting Val in unison. But they didn't move off the path.

“Step. Aside. Now!”

“Oh! Yes, we'll move.” Andee shoved Adum. “You heard Val! Move to the side!”

Adum teetered, his enormous arms waving about like a cartoon character's. Andee grabbed Adum's shirt to steady him, but it wasn't enough to stop the momentum of such a large man. Adum's shirt tore, and both men tumbled into the ferns. The ferns screamed, jumped out of the ground, and scuttled away.

“Finally.” Val strode past them.

Alec watched the men roll about as they tried to get up. One accidentally hit the other, progressing things into a fistfight.

“Just leave them.” Val waved loftily.

“Uh, okay.” Alec followed Val past the grunting, grappling men, out of the forest, and into a huge clearing.

Well, a huge field. It wasn't at all clear. The field was full of tents and people. As Val led him along a central path, those people stopped what they were doing to stare at Alec. Alec stared back, searching for someone who might jog his memory. If he had been there before, and his gut told him he had, he wanted to know what had happened. How had he gotten there the last time? How had he gotten home? And he just wanted to remember. His visit must have been magical, especially if he'd been a child. How could he have forgotten?

None of the men and women were familiar to Alec. But they seemed to know him. Their eyes filled with hope when they spotted him, some of them even stood up and bowed. Alec just nodded and smiled, albeit tightly. The further he got into the camp, the more nervous he felt. This wasn't just any camp. The men and women were polishing armor, sharpening swords, and repairing shields. This was a war camp, and those people were soldiers. The rational part of Alec's brain told him to turn around and run back to that hole. He may be adept in judo, but he wasn't a soldier. He didn't know how to use a sword or defend himself with a shield. And that jabber-thing sounded ferocious. Three kingdoms had fallen because of it. But he was supposed to conquer the creature? How?

And yet, he kept following the rabbit-man.

“Here we are.” Val huffed out a sigh and motioned at a tent.

It was the largest tent in the camp and a pair of men stood outside it, to either side of the entrance. The men bowed to Val as they pulled the fabric panels back for him, and Val strode in. Alec went forward with more hesitation, glancing at the guards before stepping inside. Then he stopped.

Before Alec stretched a long, rectangular table. A motley assortment of people sat there, including a lanky man with shaggy brown hair, a little mousy lady, a sharp-faced guy, and then, at the head of the table, there sat a very attractive man wearing a purple top hat that caught Alec's eye. In addition to its vibrant color, the hat had thin blades tucked into its leather band, fanned out for easy retrieval. But it wasn't the hat's color or accessories that froze Alec in place. It was the hat itself. And the man who wore it.

The sight triggered a memory—Alec sitting at a table similar to this one, drinking a cup of tea with that man, wearing that hat. Both hat and man were the same except for one thing—the blades. In Alec's memory, there was a fan of feathers instead of blades. Colorful feathers and a playing card—the Knave of Diamonds.

“You,” Alec whispered.

Val looked back and forth between Alec and the man in the hat. “Well, it's about time you remembered something.”

“He doesn't remember anything?” Top Hat asked as he stood up.

“No,” Val said, then smirked and lifted his chin. “Not a thing. Just as I warned.”

Top Hat came around the table and stood before Alec. “But you know me?” He grinned, and the world got brighter. “Of course, you do. How could you forget your friend, Quinlen, eh?” He clapped Alec's shoulder. “We had cake and tea, and then we played games until it was tea time again. You had marvelous adventures here before you had to go home. But now, you're all grown up and you can stay as long as you like. Maybe even forever.”

“Uh, I don't know what's going on,” Alec said. “This whole place is strange.” He eyed Alec's blades. “What happened to the feathers? And the playing card?”

Quinlen lost his smile. “It's been a long time since I stuck feathers in my hat. And the card—” He slid his hand into his vest and pulled out the card that Alec remembered. “I keep it closer to my heart now. It's all I have left of him.”

“It's all you have left of him?”

“Yes. He died defending his king.” Quinlen slid the card back into his vest. “A lot of card soldiers died that day. They call it the Decimation of Diamonds.”

Alec swayed.

“Whoa now.” Quinlen steadied him. “I think you could use a strong cup of tea. Come with me.”

Quinlen helped Alec to the table, sitting him beside the sharp-faced man. The man jerked his head toward Alec, cocking it oddly, and Alec drew back. The man drew back as well, blinking eyes that were as black as his hair. Fully black.

“This is Cranvor of the House of Ravens, Captain of the White Flock,” Quinlen said.

Cranvor nodded, the movement just as quick as the others he'd made.

“Uh-huh,” Alec murmured. “Nice to meet you.”

After he got Alec seated, Quinlen resumed his seat at the head of the table on Alec's left. Val sat down a little further down. Steam rose from the teacup set before Alec as Val poured a deep amber tea into it. The warm cloud rose around Alec, a familiar scent tugging more memories free.

“Fresh cup! Fresh cup!” Finbri declared.

Everyone stood up and moved a seat down at the enormous table. Or maybe it only seemed enormous because Alec was so little. Seven-year-old Alec laughed and bounced over to the next chair—a chair unlike its neighbor. All the chairs were different, as were the cutlery, dinnerware, and teacups. As unique as the people who used them. In the center of the table, towering displays of sweets and savories threatened to tumble over at any second, but every time something fell, a hand reached out to catch it.

“You're Finbri,” Alec said to the man with shaggy brown hair sitting across from him.

Finbri grinned broadly. “Aye. Well done, Alec.” He lifted his teacup in a toast. “And welcome back. It's grand to see you.”

“You . . .” Alec trailed off, his memory shocking him. But then he realized how un-shocking it was. “You transformed into a rabbit. Just like Val.”

“I beg your pardon!” Val gripped his armrests as if the chair might take off.

Meanwhile, Finbri burst out laughing.

“What's so funny?” Alec asked.

Quinlen leaned in to whisper, “Valcazan is a white rabbit, from an elite family within the House of Rabbits. Finbri is from the House of Hares. They, uh, are different breeds.”

“Different what?”

“Breeds,” Cranvor said crisply. “Different houses. As I am of the House of Ravens and would not appreciate being confused with, say, a Peacock. Birds of a feather, you see?”

Alec looked from Cranvor to the affronted Val. “Uh. Sorry.”

Val sniffed and looked away.

Finbri laughed harder. “Oh-ho! Look at you. Can't stand to be associated with a lowly hare? You fucking breedist prick.”

“Breedist?!” Val drew himself up straight in his seat. “I am the first son of the first son from a long line of White Rabbits! I am not a breedist just because I am proud of my breeding.”

“That's exactly what a breedist would say. Breedism is spreading across this land and it's a crock of horse crap. Animal houses thinking they're better than others because of their pure blood. Ha! Ridiculous. And breedist or not, you're definitely an elitist asshole.”

“Watch your tongue! I am the White Queen's emissary!”

Finbri's good humor vanished like the wind. An ill wind. He narrowed his eyes at Val and spoke through his teeth, “And I am the March Hare. Bishop of the March Legion. I actually fight beside my soldiers. What the fuck do you do? Talk?”

The table went silent.

The rabbits faced off. Or rather, the rabbit and the hare faced off.

Then the mousy lady started cackling. She slapped the table, her nose twitching. “And we're supposed to be the goodies! Ha!” She laughed harder. “Can't even reach peace amongst ourselves! We're all rodents, you fools! Rodents, the lot of us!”

“Almai, please,” Quinlen said. “All of you. Enough. This is not the time for nonsense.” He looked at his wristwatch. “We have an hour yet.”

“An hour yet?” Alec asked.

“Before noon,” Quinlen said as if it were obvious.

“That's the best time for nonsense,” Almai said. She ran dainty, clawed fingers through her short hair and blinked her large, brown eyes at him. “Do you remember me, Alec? I cut my hair. Got bangs.”

Alec frowned at her. “Almai . . . oh! You're a mouse!”

Almai clapped her hands excitedly. “I am! I am! Almai of the House of Mice. I'm Bishop of the Door Legion now.”

“Bishop,” Alec murmured. “Are you all religious?”

Everyone laughed at that, leaving Alec glowering.

“Sorry, Alec.” Quinlen smacked his back. “That was just too funny. Religion in Wonderland?” He snorted. “We can get a little crazy here, but we're not fools.”

Alec gaped at him.

“Oh, dear me. Are you religious?” Quinlen looked as if he'd eaten something sour. “Do you—” He waved his hand upwards. “—pray to an invisible being who lives in the sky?” He leaned closer to whisper, “No one lives in the Wonderland sky.”

“No, I don't believe that,” Alec said. “But I wouldn't call those who do foolish.”

“Yes, yes, whatever.” Quinlen rolled his eyes. “Bishops are military titles. I am the Commander of the White Chess Army. Below me are the Bishops. They each command a legion of ten thousand soldiers formed of . . . oh, damn. I'm going in the wrong direction. Let me start from the bottom. Individual soldiers in the Chess Army are called Pawns. Knights command a centuria of a hundred pawns. Rooks command a cohort of ten centuria—that's one thousand pawns. Then the Bishops command a legion of ten cohorts or ten thousand pawns. I command them all, and the White Queen commands me. Understand?”

“That sounds very Roman to me.” Alec tried to remember learning about the Roman army in school. One thing was certain—they didn't have bishops in charge of anything.

“Never heard of him.” Quinlen plucked a blade from his hat and spun it around his fingers. “Now, moving on.”

“Fresh cup!” Finbri jumped up.

“Not the time, Finbri!” Quinlen threw the blade, impaling the scone on Finri's plate.

“Scone.” Finbri narrowed his eyes at his pierced pastry and sat down. He removed the blade and flung it back at Quin. “But you said to move along.”

Quinlen caught the blade and put it back in his hat band. “I meant in the conversation, not physically.” Quinlen sighed, then looked at Alec. “Drink your tea, Alec.”

Alec sipped his tea and found it delicious, much sweeter than expected, and also flavorful. Breathing it in, he took another sip, then another.

“Do you remember the Queen of Hearts?” Quinlen asked.

Alec choked on his tea.

Those words—that name—suddenly struck a chord that conjured frightening images in Alec's head:

Roses everywhere. But they were the wrong color. Alec stood with a group of anxious men, staring at the white roses. One of them handed him a bottle of red dye.

“Hurry!” he said. “She could appear at any second.”

And then he was carefully applying drops of red dye to each white petal. Tedious, but it worked. The stain spread, leaving the roses looking as if they'd been red all along.

The stain spread to cover Alec's memory, then retreated to reveal another part of the vast gardens around Hearts Fortress. Alec held a mallet that was almost as tall as he was and watched as a statuesque woman with crimson hair topped by a pointy crown, hit a ball with a matching mallet, driving it toward a few flamingos. The skirts of her ballgown swished as she leaned forward, onto her mallet, and glared at the birds. The flamingos went all aflutter, flapping about until they were in the path of the ball. Then they bent their long necks to the grass, forming arches for the ball to pass through.

A crowd of odd people cheered.

Pink feathers covered Alec's sight and again, the image shifted to another memory. Alec stood beside a voluptuous woman holding a pig swaddled like a baby. She was feeding the pig from a bottle as she argued with the red-haired woman in a crown. Just behind the Queen, a red-haired man wrung his hands. He wore a crown as well, though it was smaller than the Queen's.

“Off with her head!” the Queen of Hearts screeched.

Alec drew back in fear, smacking into his friend, Gryphon.

“Steady now.” Gryphon grabbed his arm and winked. “It's all her fancy. You'll see. They never execute nobody, you know?”

The Queen glided away in a swirl of rustling silk, leaving the scent of roses in her wake . . . and her husband. Even as the card soldiers closed in on the woman with the pig, the King stepped between them.

“I hereby pardon Duchess Lellia of the House of Pigs,” the King whispered.

The soldiers stepped back and bowed to their king, their expressions carefully blank.

“The Queen of Hearts,” Alec gasped as he surfaced from his memories. “Yeah, I remember her. What a bitch.”

Everyone stared at him for a second before they all burst into laughter. Even Val joined in.

When the laughter died down, Quinlen said, “Indeed she was. But she's become far worse than that. Now she's a merciless, murderess bitch.”

“Murderous?” Alec recalled those fearsome words. “Off with her head.”

“Yes,” Finbri said. “That used to be a joke in the Hearts Fortress. Not anymore.”

“The King stopped pardoning people?”

“The King of Hearts died in the Card Wars.” Quinlen removed his hat.

Everyone bent their heads and murmured, “May death be his greatest adventure.”

Alec frowned, searching the somber faces. “What's the Card Wars?”

Quin's face twitched.

Val took one look at Quin and launched into an explanation. “Ruling the Hearts Kingdom didn’t satisfy the Queen. She wanted all the Card Kingdoms.”

“All the Card Kingdoms,” Alec murmured, remembering something about the Queen raging about the Queen of Spades. “Yeah, I can see that. So, she went to war with them?”

“Yes,” Quinlen said. “At great cost to all the Card Kingdoms. The Hearts Army crushed Spades, then Clubs. At last, it was down to Diamonds. The Diamonds Royals gathered their forces. Many soldiers from Clubs and Spades offered their swords to Diamonds to help end the Hearts' tyranny. The Diamond Army grew to epic proportions. It looked as if they'd win.” Quinlen bent his head. “He was so sure they'd win. So fucking confident. My beautiful knave.”

Alec looked from Quin to Val, who shook his head.

“They might have won.” Finbri lifted his teacup and pointed it at Alec. “But then the King of Diamonds killed the King of Hearts.”

“It drove the Queen of Hearts mad,” Almai whispered. “And not in a good way. She lost more than her mind. She lost herself. Whatever tiny piece of goodness there was inside her died with her husband. She called upon dark forces—magic so evil that only the most depraved even knew it existed. And in that dark magic, the Jabberwocky was born.”

Shivers ran up Alec's arms. “That's the monster you mentioned.” He looked at Val. “The one you said I'm supposed to kill.”

Val nodded. “It’s a thing of nightmares. A creature so twisted and wicked, nothing from our world can stop it.”

“So we sent for you—someone from another world. And you must defeat the Jabberwocky, Alec,” Finbri said. “Because the Queen of Hearts has now turned her eye toward the Chess Kingdoms.”

“We need you, Alec.” Quinlen put his hat back on and tapped the flat top. “The Hearts Kingdom borders the White Chess Kingdom. Scouting parties of card soldiers have already started creeping through Tulgeren Woods, testing our diligence.”

“We can't be certain that Alec is still the one we need,” Almai said. “He's been gone a long time, he received that prophecy when he was a child, and the future is ever-changing. He needs to be reread.”

“Reread?” Alec asked.

“Eat your cake, Alec.” Quinlen plucked several little cakes from their precarious positions on propped porcelain and plopped them on Alec's plate. “Bishop Almai is right. You need to see the Caterpillar.”