Presto woke early,
shivering in the cold of the dawn. Although the blankets his hat had
provided were thick, he was still freezing. He wrapped himself tightly
and wished that he could still trust fires to be left unguarded. But
they had been too near to Furnus too many times now. She was looking
for them. And there were the Others that the Fire Demon had spoken
of, not to mention whoever had hired those Bounty Hunters. He had
found the account of the girl Nym and her Ogre particularly worrying.
Somebody wanted to split his group up. Somebody wanted to pick them
apart. Presto remembered the words of the Black Knight and shuddered.
He knew the ghost was still trying to get out of his friend. He knew
he was still haunted in his sleep. Or at least, he had been. Diana
seemed to be doing him the world of good. For the two nights they'd
spent as an item, she had curled up under the same blanket as him
and he had held onto her tightly as he slept, and the whimpering and
grovelling and pleading for help had become contended snores. Hell,
there wasn't even snoring now. There was nothing. Presto opened his
eyes blearily and put on his glasses. There were Bobby and Sheila,
snuggled into Uni's warm belly, there was Hank, a short way off, entirely
cocooned inside his blanket, but with both bows and his remaining
ammo within arm's reach. There was a two person dent in the grass
nearby, where Eric and Diana had been, but the couple were gone. Presto
sat up, gasping, and then his brain made a little more sense of his
surroundings. They were gone, but so was their blanket. And their
boots, which they had kicked off before they'd gone to sleep. There
were two sets of booted footprints in the freezing dew leading off
into a copse of trees. He concentrated a little, focusing on his friends
so that he could accertain their safety without intruding.
There they were. Two minds, close by, at ease. Full of smut, admittedly,
but then their minds were often full of smut and Presto didn't dare
imagine what their bodies were doing right then. Eric was trying to
remember the words to Bohemian Rhapsody so he didn't suppose they'd
be gone much longer. They were OK. That's what counted. Presto reached
wordlessly into his hat and retrieved a steaming cup of sweet, milky
coffee. He'd worked out how to check up on the other adventurers'
minds quite early on. It was easy once you knew how, like looking
at a magic eye picture, and a really useful trick. He wondered at
how many times Dungeon Master... Whitewood... had used it, contenting
himself of their safety while they were bemoaning his absence.
He sipped his coffee.
Still, it would be dumb to suggest that the old man had been perfect.
So they'd been triumphant. At what cost? No kid could have gone through
what they had done and retain all of their innocence, or trust, or...
or sanity, he guessed. He'd been sent to a child psychologist for
several months afterwards, as had Bobby and Sheila, although they'd
all had to remember to stick to the "the ride broke and there
was fire and I think I passed out because I don't know how long I
was in there and what do you mean all of a sudden I'm half a foot
taller?" story. Diana had refused to go, as had Hank, and they'd
both ended up as screwed up as you please. Eric's father had just
yelled that the only specialist his son needed was a plastic surgeon,
but then Eric should have been allowed to see a shrink long, long
before the realm. The old Cavalier had simply replaced one set of
neuroses and unhealthy coping mechanisms with some different ones.
He wondered about the White Queen. How old was she supposed to be?
Sixteen? And alone, and trapped by Venger, and very, very powerful.
He remembered that first rush, from being gifted in an unmagical world
like Earth, to being somewhere like the Realm. As if somebody had
just turned the volume up on you, and you went all the way to eleven.
And if you weren't careful, all you'd get would be feedback. He felt
sorry for her already.
But that wasn't the way to go. He had to remember that nobody could
possibly know what it was like to have his power. He had to remember
he couldn't share. There would not be another Varla situation. Not
ever.
There was a rustling from the copse. Presto smiled to himself and
pulled out two more coffees.
* * * * * * *
* * * * *
The Humans and the Unicorn were walking side by side.
They did their very best to find the Wonderland I hide,
And this was odd because there was no clue for them, or guide.
"Come walk
with me," the Tall Boy said, his hair and skin like sand,
Lead Unicorn to Nigress from a hot and distant land,
And this was odd because she held the Black Haired Knight's white
hand.
And met they were
by Freckle Face, a girl all fair beguiling,
And Blue Eyes walked all weaponsy behind them all the whiling,
And this was odd because he frowned while all the rest were smiling.
And Sorcerer,
he looks for me, I'm awfully glad he came.
He thinks that he can best me, with his friends against my game.
And this is odd, because, you see,
If they should try to challenge me,
I'll find what makes them fidgety and win them all the same.
* * * * * * *
* * * *
Hank fell behind
as the others walked in a clump together. The only person who ever
bothered him when he wanted to be alone was Sheila, and besides the
evening before, she had kept her distance after the split. Besides,
she was distracted now. She was walking between Diana and Bobby, dwarfed
by the taller girl and her big little brother, giggling and gossiping
and teasing the new couple, the way the others had done to her and
Hank when they'd found out they were dating. Presto and Eric had shared
a customary brief exchange of insults, but now the Wizard (Hank had
noticed nobody ever called him Magician any more) was walking slightly
ahead, muttering softly to himself and the Unicorn. Eric laughed at
something Sheila had said. Sheila laughed too, darting around Diana
and taking Eric's spare arm, mocking the way Diana was holding his
hand.
Making him central. Between the two girls, and the two younger boys.
At the front, in the middle. Adored. In your place!
Hank scowled, unseen. Jesus! What had happened to the lonely fuck-up?
The snidey loser that everyone loved to hate? Where was he?
He's sulking at the back, Hanky-Boy, same as always.
Hank blinked. Eric was still laughing.
" Well Diddle-ee dee dee dee, two ladies!"
He put his arms around the two girls.
" Yeah, right," mocked Diana, "he can barely handle
one of us!"
"The Dungeon Master never told you of your rival, did he?"
" That's just fine," sneered Eric, taking his hand off Diana's
shoulder, "if you don't want to play, we'll be going. C'mon,
Sheila."
He humphed, tossing his head away from the Acrobat and started to
quicken his pace, still holding onto Sheila. Sheila mirrored his melodramatic
gesture primly and started to speed up with him.
"How you would be... usurped?"
The others, even Presto, started to laugh as Eric and Sheila broke
into a scrappy run up the hill they'd been climbing. Hank fumed, his
fingers itching... to form a fist? No...
Big Sally! Big Sally! That'll stop 'em laughing!
The laughter grew as Eric quickly realised that sprinting, fully armoured
and armed uphill while dragging a girl behind him, was unlikely to
work for long. After a few seconds, Sheila over took him, and moments
later he had released her hand and sunk to his knees, panting happily.
But Hank couldn't relax. He watched Sheila continue to run up the
hill, and kept his gaze away from Eric's cocky grin, and kept walking.
Eric looked up at Diana as she met him, holding up a hand for her
to help him to his feet.
" You win," he said.
Diana dismissed the hand.
" Thank God. I don't know what I'd do without her."
She ruffled her lover's hair and jogged away from him.
" Sheila!" she yelled, "don't you ever leave me again!"
Eric continued
to hold his hand out at Bobby, as he passed, clicking his fingers
for some attention. Bobby smiled a wide, warm Bobby smile and ignored
him entirely. He was about to start pushing himself up when a hand
finally caught his. He was pulled up roughly and spun around to meet
Hank's furious face.
" Ha..." was all that Eric managed to say before he was
cut off by a hoarse, angry whisper.
" What the fuck was all that about?"
Hank was surprised by the ease with which Eric managed to wrench his
hand out of his grasp.
" What, she's not allowed to smile any more?" Eric matched
Hank's volume, and his anger. "She's not allowed to feel attractive
or wanted?"
" So you do find her attractive?"
" Dude, what are you, insane? I'm not blind, the woman's fucking
gorgeous!"
Hank's fists bunched.
" But in case you forgot," continued Eric in a whisper,
"I also just happen to be in love with her best friend, so I'd
say I was pretty safe, wouldn't you?"
Oh yeah, nobody would have sex with the girl he loves' best friend,
would he?
" Wouldn't you?"
Hank shook his
head a little at the confusion of the two contradicting Eric voices.
He was saved having to come up with any kind of coherent answer by
Sheila's voice coming from the top of the hill.
" Guys? You'd better come look at this..."
Hank and Eric both looked up at Sheila. The others had also got to
the crest of the hill and were gazing off, amazed. Hank started to
make his way uphill, after treating Eric to one last, brief, threatening
scowl, which the other youth met with a silent sarcasm.
Meeting up with the others, Hank saw what they were staring at, and
gasped a little himself. There was another hill, identical to the
one they had climbed. So precisely identical that at the top, five
youngsters and a white Unicorn stood and stared in wonder back at
them. Dreamily, Hank waved his right hand at them. On the other hill,
a scruffy blond man in green with two bows and a lot of ammo strapped
to him returned the wave with his left hand.
" Jesus," he thought as a heavily armoured man stomped into
view on the other hill and stopped in amazement, "I really do
look like Evil Legolas!"
" It's a mirror..." muttered Presto, behind him.
The tall Barbarian on the other hill stooped to pick something up,
then hurled it. A small pebble went whizzing past Hank's ear. By the
time it hit the mirror in the middle of the valley between the hills,
it had run out of a lot of momentum, and didn't smash the glass, but
bounced off it and fell the fifty or so feet to the ground.
" Must be huge," breathed Bobby.
" Well," sighed Presto as he began to make his way down
the hill, "I guess we found her."
Diana jogged after him. "I wonder what the mirror's all about."
" Hey, she's nuts, remember?" joked Eric, speeding up as
he descended, "take it from someone who Sees Dead People, these
things don't have to make any sense."
Hank took up the
rear (again...) and walked, watching the others meet their reflections
in the middle of the valley.
Presto walked
up to the smooth glass, cautiously, looking along it for some sign
of a door. Seeing nothing, he put his hand against it, hoping to feel
a join or weakness in its surface. His fingertips touched those of
his reflection. He felt the jolt, like an electric shock, and automatically
yanked his hand away. That wasn't right. The magical energy had been
passed to him from his reflection's hands, as though his mirror image
had power too! Diana pouted slightly at the mirror, her hands on her
hips.
" How d'you suppose we get in?"
Bobby grinned back, his raised club glowing with energy.
" We could knock!"
Presto's eyes widened as the boy took a swing back with his weapon
and was only just able to say "No, Bob..." before club hit
reflection of club. There was a flash of magic on magic, and Bobby
was thrown back, his weapon sent flying out of his hands. Eric had
to duck to prevent it hitting him and, once the kid had looked up,
surprised but unhurt from the ground, huffed irritably.
" Nice going, He-Man."
" Bite me." Bobby picked himself up, and Hank passed him
his club.
Sheila stepped up to the mirror, running her own small, faintly freckled
fingers against it.
" There has to be a door or something round here..."
It was just as the others stepped up to help her search the surface
that Presto saw it - Sheila was looking at him through the mirror,
a mischievous glint in her eyes.
She was giving him That Look! The look she never gave him, the sharing
of a private wicked thought that she only ever gave to Diana as she
was gossiping, or to Hank before the split, whenever they were suddenly
taken very tired and had to go home to bed immediately. He could tell
from the mirror that there was nobody else behind him, and she was
definitely meeting his gaze. What had happened? What was she thinking?
What did she want him to do?
His train of thought was interrupted when Sheila's reflection pushed
its dainty hands through the glass as though it were water and grabbed
the real Sheila by the wrists. Still grinning wickedly at Presto,
it tugged at the Thief, pulling her into the mirror.
The mirror couldn't have chosen a better bait. As one, her only sibling,
two best friends, ex boyfriend and secret admirer decided that they
were the one to rescue her and charged mindlessly after her. Their
reflections stood aside and let them pass through.
There was a pause, and for a moment the Unicorn stared silently at
her reflection as it wobbled with the aftershock of the six bodies
passing through the glass. Then something strange happened. The reflected
Unicorn pushed itself up to stand on two legs, like a human. It stepped
back and gestured courteously to its real counterpart, waving a hoof
into the depths of the reflection, inviting her in.
Then another strange thing happened. The Unicorn, watching on four
legs, rolled her eyes despondently and sighed.
" Oh Bloody Hell."
And she walked in after them.
* * * * * * *
* * * * *
How doth the little
Conjurer
Deceive his little friends!
He looks in Wonder at my Land
And, pie-eyed, he pretends
That he, like them, knows nothing
Of how the game must end.
(But he, of course, knows less than me.
On that I can depend!)
* * * * * * *
* * * * *
"OK... OK..."
Sheila allowed her brother to pick her off the floor. Her knees and
the palms of her hands stung from where she'd hit the ground, and
her heart was racing from the adrenaline of the shock and the fall.
Apart from that she was OK.
" OK?" asked Bobby.
" OK," she sighed.
She turned around, looking for her errant reflection. There it was,
in the large mirror behind her with the others', laughing and pulling
funny faces at her. Only it wasn't green hills reflected in the background
now, but a large, flat plain. But that wasn't right! Even for the
Realm it was definitely not right. She turned from the mirror to face
the new landscape.
"Okaaay..."
muttered Eric. This was just too weird. The plain was separated into
squares - perfect squares about a mile in width each of different
terrain. The square of grass that they all stood on was flanked by
a square lake and a square desert, with a square of forest ahead of
them. Only that the trees in the forest weren't real trees. They were
completely black, and simplistic, and only seemed to come in two shapes.
Eric's head skewed to one side as he squinted at the "trees".
He hadn't been mistaken. They were the black suits from a pack of
cards. Row upon row of clubs and spades were growing from the soil.
Eric was barely aware that his jaw had dropped open slightly as he
stared past the forest, and the many squares after that at the giant
castle in the middle of the plain. But it wasn't a castle... well,
it was... it was a chess castle. A Rook. It was huge, around the same
size as Darkhaven, but taller. And it was covered in... what were
those? Eric squinted. Giant ladders, propped up against the Rook,
climbing to various different levels. And what else? Long things,
hanging from windows, moving slightly. He grimaced as the realisation
dawned. Snakes. Big, fuck-off snakes.
" Well," he said eventually, "we're not in Kansas any
more."
" We're not even in Oz any more..." breathed Diana from
behind him.
" Greetings, travellers!" came a familiar and welcome voice.
Eric's heart leapt into his throat.
" DM!"
He knew it! He knew all along he wasn't dead. How could he be dead?
That was stupid!
Eric span around, searching the ground for the little bastard, wanting
to weep with joy and relief. He was gonna grab hold of him and hug
him and kiss that hideous bald head of his until he wished he had
died! But he wasn't there. Eric looked on the ground all around him.
There was grass, and his own feet, and four pairs of boots, two fur,
two leather, and a green robe and four hooves. And that was all. The
others had gone very quiet. Sheila was sniffing a little.
" Where is he?" he asked, eyes still down, his heart beginning
to sink.
" Eric..." said Diana softly, taking his hand. Automatically,
he looked up.
" Oh." His sinking heart didn't stop where it should have,
and carried on falling through his guts.
The Old Dungeon
Master's wizened face would have suited a chimp, or some other sort
of simian animal. It certainly did not sit well on the body of the
large, ginger cat that smiled at them, suspended magically in mid-air.
" I'm sorry," he purred in that gentle, comforting old voice,
"were you expecting somebody else?"
Sheila nodded, wiping away tears of disappointment and renewed grief.
" Who are you?"
" My name is Cheshire Puss. My friend the White Queen has asked
for me to guide you to her palace."
The cat grinned at them wildly, baring rows of sharp, white teeth.
Eric found himself recoiling, disgusted at the sight of fangs on the
old man's face.
Hank stepped forward a little.
" What does she want with us?"
" Company, beloved Ranger. That is all. She has been watching
you." The cat flicked a glance at Presto. "She likes you.
She sees that you are the same as her."
" Because we're from Earth, too?" asked Diana.
" My dear, sweet child," replied the cat in the kindly tones
that Diana had missed so much, "I'm afraid it is because you,
like her, are all quite, quite mad."
" What?!?"
The cat was beginning to fade away, only his terrible toothsome smile
remaining opaque.
" Mind the gap!" said the smile, and then it was gone.
The kids watched the empty space where the cat had been, and then
looked nervously at one another.
" Yeah, right," said Eric, half smiling, "like it's
us who's crazy..."
But how many times had he been referred to a shrink and not gone?
From when his Mom left and he started getting into trouble at school
right up to his last night on Earth. It had to have been about ten
different times. That doesn't happen to normal, healthy people. And
then there were the nightmares. The Black Knight, holding his father's
soul to ransom, beckoning him into Hell.
A steam train
engine whistled right behind him, making him jump and spin around.
" Jesus Christ!"
They all stared agog at the large, black locomotive that was suddenly
stopped on the grass a few yards from where they stood. It wasn't
on tracks, but it was pointed straight at the castle.
" I'm starting to feel like I am going nuts..." murmured
Bobby.
" Don't say that," hissed Presto. "It's her that's
mad, it's this place. Not you."
The door to the carriage swung open, and a fat, foul faced woman stood
in the doorway. She was clutching a baby wrapped in blankets to her,
tightly.
" All aboard!" she ordered.
She was met with a sea of blank faces.
" Come on, now! All aboard! In the name of Her Majesty!"
Presto looked at the others.
" It's the quickest way," he shrugged, "we've got to
meet the Queen anyway."
Hank nodded in agreement, giving the Black Suit Forest a look of distrust,
and was the first to step toward the carriage door.
" Tickets," snarled the woman, blocking his way.
" But you said..." started Bobby.
" I need to see your tickets!"
" We don't have any tickets," said Diana, politely.
The woman fixed Diana with a look of utter contempt and anger.
" LLLLLIAAAARRR!!!"
The strength of the hatred in the other woman's eyes and voice caused
Diana to reel back a little. But she knew what she was talking about.
Dear God, she knew what she was talking about, and it wasn't tickets.
" We do have tickets." Presto reached dreamily into his
hat and produced six playing cards. He passed them out to the others.
Bobby and Sheila compared cards.
" They've got our faces on them." Sheila looked worriedly
at her own face on the Queen of Hearts.
The fat woman reached down and snatched it off her, giving it to the
baby in her arms. The baby sat up a little, peering at the card with
piggy eyes.
Because it was a pig.
It brought out a pair of clippers in a fat trotter and clipped the
ticket.
Sheila winced.
" Ow!"
The woman pulled her up onto the train, then reached down for the
other cards.
Jack of Clubs. "Ow!"
King of Hearts. "Dammit!"
King of Wands. "Geez!"
Queen of Diamonds. A pained whimper.
King of Diamonds. "Ow! Fuck!"
Only as Eric passed her at the door, she caught his wrist and whispered
to him.
" You promised! There's still a way we can break the curse. You
have to! You promised!"
Eric didn't look at her, but desperately tried to wriggle himself
out of her grip.
No! No, it couldn't be her... how had she found him? It couldn't be
her, anything but that... but again, he couldn't struggle free.
(Please, God, no...)
He turned to her, his free hand searching for his sword, but nobody
was there. Only a shut carriage door with the countryside beyond slowly
beginning to roll away.
He went to sit with the others. They watched the strange landscape
move past them through the windows, and nobody noticed that there
wasn't a Unicorn with them any more.
