The White Queen - Part 03

They fell into a silence. They often did on long journeys together, odd since their natural inclination when walking was to chatter. When something else was doing the moving for them, they'd tend to take the break as a chance to sink into their own private thoughts. On trains or buses back on Earth they could sit quietly together for entire trips, punctuated only occasionally by sudden bursts of observational banter or playful squabbling that would seem to come from nowhere and stop without conclusion. That was right, wasn't it? There were trains on Earth?
Presto closed his eyes and tried to think. The DM cat had definitely thrown him.
He was kicked, softly, in the knee.
And this place really wasn't right. The magic was all skewed. Half Earth, half Realm, half something else. Wait... that's a hundred and thirty percent...
The person next to him shifted sharply.
The tickets... had he made them? There had been something different about his. But then he was different. Was he? Did his powers apply here?
He was kicked again.
He shouldn't be this confused. He was Dungeon Master. Everything should make sense to him. The old man had known everything. But had it made sense? How does one make sense of Everything? It was all so smuddgled. Had the old man been entirely sane? He'd spoken in squange ridlees, like a madman, like...
" Turning into a Cou-ple!"
Bobby's soft sing-song voice brought him out of his swirling thoughts.
" Am not," came the indignant reply in stereo.
Presto opened his eyes. Eric and Diana, sitting opposite each other, had been trying to put their feet up on one anothers' laps and had now got their legs into a tangled mess bridging the booth they all sat in.
" You so are," breathed Sheila, without taking her eyes from the window.
Presto relaxed and smiled a little as his two friends reclaimed their own limbs and gave each other evil looks. It was OK. He could keep a grip. Everything was still as it was.
" Who's good at riddles?"
" Not him again!" groaned the Cavalier by Presto's side.
Ah. Everything was getting a little too As It Was.

The ginger cat was sitting on the wire baggage rack, swinging its little legs and clasping its hands together, just like the old Dungeon Master had used to. Only the smile was a little too manic, a little too sharp.
" Yes," it smiled, "me again. Who's good at riddles?"
" We don't like riddles," muttered Hank, darkly, from his corner.
" You don't?" The cat seemed surprised, and a little hurt. "Oh well, I suppose I shall have to ask you a riddle, instead."
" But..." started Sheila.
The cat held up a paw.
" If you can think of a better way to decide who has the first throw, I should like to know it."
They blinked at each other, confused.
" First Throw?" asked Bobby, "Is that the riddle?"
The cat sighed. "The game, child! The game! We must start it fairly!"
" Hey!" Hank sat up. "Venger warned us not to play games here."
" Venger? You do what Venger says? But that's madness!" The cat looked at Eric.
(Augh! God! I'm burning!)
Eric darted a panicked glance at Presto.
" We're not going to play any games, Cheshire Puss," replied Presto, a little shakily. "We just came to see the Queen. We're not even at the castle yet."
The cat frowned at them, confused.
" Yes you are."
They all stared at the cat, who wasn't on a baggage rack, but perched on top of a hatstand.
" You've been here for hours."
And beyond the hatstand was not a train carriage, but a large, dark room, lined with dusty bookshelves, with a floor covered in half finished cross stitch pieces, opened picture books and abandoned board games. They looked back at each other, and saw that they were not sitting in the booth of a carriage, but around a large table with a series of boards set upon it.
" Gah!"
They all jumped, Eric leaping so far back that he toppled off his chair.
Somebody was laughing. A girl. Eric frowned as he picked himself up off the floor. It wasn't the warm, mocking laughter of either Diana or Sheila. It was a different laugh. Harder and colder. But when he got back into his chair, there was nobody else there. Just him, and the others, and the infuriating cat.
" The riddle is this," grinned the cat, "When is an aqueduct like a platypus?"
Bobby wrinkled up his nose in incomprehension. "Wha...?"
But the cat had gone.
" How's that s'posed to help us get home?" Sheila slumped sadly, leaning her elbows on the table and pushing her fingers through her hair.
" But we went home," muttered Hank, trying to concentrate. "We are home. Aren't we?"
" It isn't here..." said Presto. He felt distracted. The boards in front of him looked complicated. There was one big one, with dice, and smaller ones around it. There were several different piles of cards, and a lot of little coloured markers and tokens. He was sure he had no idea how to play. Eric, next to him, looked up and around himself, annoyed.
" Where's my Dad? He was here a minute ago..."
Diana stared at him. Something about that wasn't right. What was it they were supposed to be doing? She looked at the table. "What is this game, anyway?"
" Last Man Standing," said the Queen, setting down her cross stitch, irritably.

Presto looked at her. He was surprised that he hadn't looked properly at her before. After all, she had been sitting with them for over an hour. A pretty blonde girl around sixteen, she sat at the head of the table, with her chair pushed slightly away. She wore a blue knee length dress with white petticoats and pinafore, and had stripy stockings. Her crown was unusual. It appeared to have been carved out of ivory and sat heavily on the brim of the large black top hat she had perched on her head. She poured a cup of tea out from the pot on the table and crossed her legs, meeting his gaze coldly.
" We don't know how to play," he said.
The White Queen sighed. "It's a bit like a cross between Pretty Jack and Turn Badger Turn." She sipped her tea. "Only more so."
Presto gazed at the others in wonder as a wave of recognition and understanding passed over them.
" Oh!" They smiled at each other, serenely.
" So it's a sort of Mauver version of Go Johnny Go Go Go Go?" asked Sheila.
" Only Piccadilly stations are wild..." added Eric.
The Queen grinned a pointy, feline grin. "Precisely."
She picked up a counter for herself and started handing the others out, talking happily as she did.
" Right, so I'm the top hat, which makes you the boot..." she threw Hank a little metal boot, "Miss Scarlet to the dark girl, Black Knight..." Eric dropped his chess piece as though it were blisteringly hot, then blinked and went to retrieve it. "Blue team..." she passed a blue counter over to Sheila and Bobby, who were already whispering team strategies. The Queen finally tossed a pen lid over to Presto.
" Sorry," she shrugged, "I ran out."
" I don't want to play..." said Presto.
The others all huffed and tutted in disappointment. The nurse put a hand on his shoulder.
" Play with them, Presto. They were so looking forward to this. Don't ruin it."
" But I don't want to!"
There was something wrong, very wrong. The smell was different. It had been dusty, an old paper smell, picked up with hints of rose and lavender. Now it smelled sharply of disinfectant and urine. And the lights were too bright, and since when did the Realm have TVs? And they were all dressed weirdly - where were their Realm outfits? They shouldn't be in pyjamas. And Bobby shouldn't be rocking like that. And Diana should have lovely long hair. And Eric's scar was on his back, not on his arms...
" Will you just play?" snapped the English girl in the top hat.
Presto sighed. "OK."
And the dim light, and musty smell and proper outfits came back.

"So," smiled the Queen, "there is just the question of who goes first. Does anyone have an answer to the riddle?"Presto stared at his pen top and rubbed his eyes. How was that ridlee anywhen? Somebody about ducks...
" The Battle of Agincourt," answered Eric, confidently.
" Carl Lewis," added Diana.
" Neptune," chorused The Blue Team.
Everybody looked at Hank, expectantly. He thought for a second, and then tentatively said "...Tuesday?"
The gazes turned back to the White Queen, who picked up her cross stitch.
" Well," she said, "I happen to have the answer right here." She turned the material around so that they could all see.
Diana froze, her mouth gaping open in horror. It was there! Written down in neat little stitches for everybody to see! The horrible truth in pretty, pink writing.
Hank & Diana had sex last Christmas!
She's even taken the trouble to do a little illustration, in case anyone hadn't got the point. She risked a glance at Hank, who was staring at it, equally dumbfounded. Sheila leaned in, peering at it. She seemed to be having trouble reading it. Diana could feel her own cheeks burning up.
" Q: When is an aqueduct like a platypus?" read Sheila from the cross stitch. "A: March 5th, 1765."
Diana sat back, bemused but still horrified. That wasn't what it said! Besides Hank, everybody was merely pondering the answer to the riddle.
" March 5th, 1765?" stammered Hank, his lips white."Yes," answered the Queen matter-of-factly, "at about teatime. Although I do believe that was a Tuesday, which makes you the winner. Well done."
The others broke into polite applause, and stopped abruptly when Hank picked up the dice.
He shook them in his hand.
And threw them.
At Eric.
They bounced off his head onto the table. "Ow!"
The Queen peered at the fallen dice and looked up at Eric, her eyes bright with excitement.
" A seven! Where are you going to start?"
Eric frowned at one of the smaller boards for a moment, biting his lip. Then he nodded to himself and set his piece upon a dark blue circle, decisively.
" Covent Garden."
The others sat back, impressed. "Oooh!"
The Queen raised her eyebrows. "Interesting. A risky opening move, but the absence of escalators should give you an extra fifty seconds at least."
" Why d'you think I played it?" interjected Eric, sardonically.
The English girl pushed her fingertips together, bringing them to her lips, thoughtfully.
" You know, you might just pull it off. But you'll have to run."
Before she'd even finished her sentence, Eric had pushed his chair away from the table and was sprinting down a long, dark corridor. The others all watched him go, then turned to the small egg timer that the Queen had placed in front of her. After about a minute it ran out, and she looked up at Hank.
" Well, go on then."
Hank pushed his chair back so hard that it toppled to the floor, and ran off after Eric.
Sheila leaned over and scooped up the dice, passing one to Bobby. She rolled a five.
" Five!" shouted the Queen and the remaining kids.
Bobby threw a four.
" Fifteen!" they screamed in an excited chorus.
" Well, well," smiled the Queen, moving the blue counter onto another smaller board, "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels in the gardens."
Brother and sister looked at each other.
" The gardens?"
And, yes, they were in the gardens.

In the maze, as it happened. They took one anothers hand and followed the curves of the tall hedges together.
" Sheila?"
" Mmm?"
" What do you suppose she meant by Dirty Rotten Scoundrels?"
" It's the name of the game."
" I thought the game was Last Man Standing."
" I think it's a part of Last Man Standing. I've forgotten. I lost the rule book."
" Oh. Sheila?"
" Mmm?"
" What do you suppose she meant by Dirty Rotten Scoundrels?"
Sheila stopped, annoyed. "This maze doesn't turn at all. It just goes round. Are we going round and round in a circle?"
Bobby looked at the curving path, scratching his head. "Maybe it's a spiral."
" Maybe it is." Sheila started walking again. "In which case either we should come eventually to the centre or to the outside. I would rather come to the outside than the centre, since if we came to the centre it would mean that we'd have to turn around and go all the way back, but I should rather we came to the centre than walk around finding nothing at all, because that would mean we would be just walking around in a circle and there would be no outside or centre for us to find, but then how would we know, we'd just be forever walking around and around and wondering when we'd come to the outside or to the centre and have to turn around and go all the way back in the other direction."
" What do you suppose she meant by Dirty Rotten Scoundrels?"
They were cut off by a shrill policeman's whistle, and a gruff cry.
" Murder! Murder! Which way did they go?"
They stopped in their tracks.
" They've found us out," whispered Sheila, "they know what we've done."
" They're gonna come and get us!" added Bobby.
Sheila pushed her brother flat against the hedge.
" No. They'll never find us in here."
" Oh Constable!" They looked up in horror at the ginger cat who floated above the maze, grinning down at them. "Here they are!"

It was just him and her, now. Diana had disappeared after putting her piece on the board, just like the others. It was just Presto and the Queen. She passed him the dice, smiling warmly at him. He pushed them back.
" I told you. I don't want to play."
The blonde girl in the top hat just smiled at him, pressing the dice into his hand.
There was that smell again. A scream went up. He turned his head, dreamily. A tall (very tall!) nurse was restraining a little redhead girl. She screamed and kicked as the nurse tried to force a pill between her gritted teeth, to no avail. The nurse sighed, and, pulling out a needle, injected her. The girl went quiet and limp.
" It's getting late." The nurse who spoke to him was much shorter, and old and kindly faced. "Alice? Arthur? It's time for your medication."
Presto threw the dice. The blonde girl moved the pen top onto the central circle of the big board, and he was back in the dark castle.

Eric wasn't sure where he was any more. All he knew was, he really couldn't run up any more steps. They had been winding up and up for a good twenty minutes. He paused, leaning against the outside wall of the staircase, getting his breath back. With the clattering of his armour and weapons silenced, he could definitely hear it now. Swift footsteps, following him.
" Damn it all to Hell!"
He launched himself upwards again. And all of a sudden, there was light! He jumped the turnstile and skidded outside into the street.
Ah.
He appeared to be in London. He'd been there, a few times before with his mother. He recognised the grime straight away. Jesus, it was worse than Paris! At least in Paris there wasn't a Starbucks on absolutely every street. It was drizzling. Ah, Europe!
There was also a large green mushroom with a six foot high bong-smoking caterpillar in the middle of the street, which Eric was quite sure Wasn't Right. He approached the caterpillar, cautiously.
" Hello?"
The caterpillar exhaled smoke lazily through its half-opened mouth, watching Eric with drooping, disinterested eyes. It didn't reply even as Eric stood at the creature's feet.
Eric huffed slightly. Time for a different approach. He tapped the mushroom.
" Knock knock."
The caterpillar sighed haughtily, taking another puff.
" Well, at least you managed to get here first. I suppose that must count for something."
Eric's mouth hung open silently, his question about the "managed to get here first" comment halted by the sudden recognition of the voice. The contemptuous tone oozing out in a deep, plummy, English accent... it was Roger! Eric had been amazed that his mother had been able to go all the way to Europe to find somebody even worse than his father, but she had. At least the string of Himbos she'd got involved with later on had been inoffensive - as inoffensive as seeing somebody your own age french kissing your Mom can get - but Roger had just been... ew. And she'd left them both for that!
The caterpillar offered him the bong. Eric folded his arms and met the beast's eyes.
" Yeah. That's him all right. Now offer me a tab of acid, boys just love candy!"
The caterpillar retracted the bong.
" I'm sorry. I don't understand."
" Sure you don't."
The Roger caterpillar picked up a pile of cards, his gaze not once falling from Eric's.
" The other contestant has arrived."
Eric only had time to frown briefly in confusion before a hand fell on his shoulder.
" What have you found? Weed?" Hank's face split into a glad smile. "Wicked!"
Oh great. Hank. Eric knew he was mad at Hank for something. If only he could remember what.
" Yeah," answered Eric, joking through his confusion, "only trouble is, there's some creepy English insect attached to it."
The caterpillar shuffled the cards, still addressing Eric.
" You got here first, so you get the first shout." It handed Eric an eight of clubs.
Eric looked from the card to the caterpillar to Hank to the caterpillar again.
The creature rolled its eyes. "Stick or twist?"
Eric looked at the card again. What was this? Blackjack? Didn't this have something to do with twenty one?
" Hit me," he said, unsure.
The caterpillar passed him a four of hearts. Twelve. Twelve wasn't good. She didn't even say goodbye.
" Hit me..."
Eight of clubs. Twenty. Twenty was nice. Safe. College. Christmas skiing with Presto and long summer days at the beach. Listening to Soul music in Diana's piece of shit car, watching her eyelashes flashing behind her sunglasses as she drove. Yeah. Stay there.
" I'll stick."
The caterpillar nodded, and turned to Hank, passing him a card.
Nine of hearts.
" Twist."
Eight of clubs. Damn! Hank darted a look at Eric, who pressed his cards to his chest with a strange little smile. He'd been so sure about sticking. He had to have something better than 17.
" Twist."
The caterpillar put a card, face down, into Hank's outstretched hand. He turned it over and looked at it. Five of spades. Shit! Shit!!!
" Is there a problem?" enquired the English caterpillar.
Hank glumly turned the cards around to show the creature. It looked at his hand and nodded.
" Very good," it said.
" It is?!?" chorused the two boys.
" How old are you, Hank?" asked the caterpillar.
Hank looked at his cards and blinked with a happy realisation. "Twenty two!"
They both turned to Eric.
" And you?"
Eric frowned, wracking his brains. How old was he? He should know. This wasn't good. He looked at the cards. That didn't help. They said twenty, but twenty was a different time. Beach, car, sunshine, slowly falling asleep as Stevie Wonder sang and California sped by. And now? When was now? He looked down at himself. Fuck. Armour. He was in the Realm. He was still in the Realm, and that meant he was... meant he was...
" Fourteen..." whispered Eric eventually. The world was starting to spin.
(Please God no I'm burning augh God I'm only let me go I'll be good I'll rather die I'd rather think this is a game I assure you this is no God I'm burning only fourteen sorta sick motherfucker very stupid thing you did not heed my warning please let me go just let me go please I'm a virgin I'm only burning I'm only fourteen...)
" I'm only fourteennnn..." Hank watched in surprise as Eric curled to the ground.
The caterpillar set the cards down and dusted its hands.
" Boot takes Black Knight. You win, Ranger."
The shadows of bars began to appear over Eric's prone body. Hank could make out a low, terrified moan starting to come from the foetal boy. He knew he should do something. Help him.
" What are you doing to him?" muttered Hank.
The caterpillar snorted with mirth.
" Me? Why I'm not doing anything to him. You beat him. You are doing this."
Hank looked up at the creature, horrified.
" No I'm not! How could I?"
The caterpillar shrugged. "It's what you wanted."
" I don't want this! Eric's my fuh..." Hank struggled for words. "Fuh... He's... he's useful."
" If he is of use to you, then free him," replied the caterpillar, "but at least claim your prize first."
" My prize?"
" You will need to change boards," said the caterpillar, and disappeared.
Hank blinked at the space where the caterpillar had once been, then at Eric. There weren't real bars around him. They were only shadows. He could easily reach down to him and pull him to his feet. Could. Should. It would be just like the old days. But those days were long gone, weren't they, Eric? Things had changed since then.

In the dark, dusty room, the White Queen moved the boot and the Black Knight onto a different board.
" Boot's move," she muttered, "Black Knight is captured."
Presto threw the dice and moved the pen top five spaces. Strange. His board didn't really seem to do anything. It just went round and round, like the board Sheila and Bobby's counter was on. Only that board had a lot of other little markers on it, and they all appeared to be moving in on the little blue counter.

Bobby tried giving his little big sister a leg up to climb on top of the hedge, but it was still too high. She stood on his shoulders, trying at least to silence the cat, but it chuckled and dissolved and reappeared behind them.
" They know you're here," explained the cat as Sheila climbed down, "because you know you're here. You're playing against each other, didn't you know that?"
The siblings looked at each other.
" Playing against each other? But we're on the same team."
" We are all on the same team, Barbarian," smiled the cat, "all just trying to get through life. So why do you fight so many of us?"
There was a mob coming through the maze towards them. They were dressed as policemen, but they were zombies. Mainly zombies. Bobby recognised the two leaders instantly - stocky and reptilian and green, save for the large patches of red on the abdomen of one and the head (if you could still call it a head) of the other. He felt his sister press herself into him and squeeze his hand. The cat grinned at them, holding a small card in its paws.
" And so, it comes down to one final riddle," said the cat. "Tell me, Thief. Is your brother a murderer?"
Sheila tightened her grip on her brother's hand and stared at the mob, unable to take her eyes off the approaching Orc - its head half flattened, its pulped brain tissue visible through its staved-in skull, its eyeballs out on stalks. He did that! He did that to a living creature! And she was no better. She felt the tears mounting up behind her eyes.
" Yes."
The cat nodded sagely. "Same question to the Barbarian."
Sheila had started to cry. Bobby had never seen the Orc that she'd stabbed before now, but he could feel its dark, sticky blood running down her hand as it gushed out of the slice in its belly.
" Yes. She is."
" Both correct," sighed the cat, beginning to fade again, "which means, I'm afraid, that you both lose."
The mob surrounded the terrified, guilt ridden siblings, and the garden was covered in an utter, eternal, silent darkness.

The White Queen weighed the cloth covering the garden board down with pebbles.
" Blue team lose," she said, sitting back. Her gaze turned to the red counter on the main board. She smiled. "Finally! Miss Scarlett has stopped moving!"
Presto just threw the dice, and moved the pen top around five spaces.

Go, Diana, Go! Go, Diana, Go! Go, Diana, Go! Go, Diana, Go!
Diana jogged to a stop and bent over, leaning her hands on her knees, getting her breath. She looked up, wiping the sweat from her eyes, to wave at the crowd. But the crowd had gone. It was just her and Miss Gayle, her old gymnastics instructor. And she was quite sure that Miss Gayle had never been a rabbit before. The rabbit stopped its watch and looked at it, impressed.
" Well done, Diana! Why, you've practically won already!"
" I have?" panted Diana, "That's great! If I come second place one more time, I'm gonna..."
" I mean, you still can't technically win," interrupted the rabbit, "but that's easily fixed."
Diana stood up straight. "I can't win? Why?"
The rabbit looked up at her, as if surprised she'd had to ask.
" Diana, how do you expect to win when you've got something so horribly wrong with you?""There's nothing wrong with me."
The rabbit patted Diana's leg gently with its soft, fuzzy paw.
" It's all right, my dear child. You don't have to hide it from me. I know you don't have a heart."
She yanked her leg from the rabbit and tried to back away, but hit the gym wall.
" I have a heart!" She clutched at her chest. There should have been a beat there. She was shocked, and she had been running. Her heartbeat should have been pounding right through her body. But there was nothing.
The rabbit shook its head sadly.
" You gave your heart away, Diana. To a boy you barely knew. And he disappeared and left you... well, heartless."
" That's not true! I have a heart! I'm just... very independent."
The rabbit took a step towards her. The rodent appeared to be growing bigger.
" And that's why you tried to steal your best friend's man?"
" It wasn't like that! I didn't want him as a boyfriend..." Dammit, why couldn't she feel a pulse?
" But you had sex with him anyway?" The rabbit was definitely growing.
" Yes... no... he... tricked me..."
" He tricked you. You, Diana Jones, international superstar, tricked by a one-time pretty-boy Jock past his sell by date and on enough Class A drugs to tranquillise a shirehorse?"
Diana didn't answer. She just clutched at her unmoving chest, desperately.
The rabbit stepped forward again and looked her in the eyes.
" And is that what you'll say about the new one, when he's proved too tiresome, or troublesome to carry on with? 'He might be an emotionally neglected basket case with all the social sophistication and romantic experience of a wild eyed hermit, but you see, he tricked me!'"
" Don't say things like that about him..."
The rabbit towered over her. "Why not? It's what you think, isn't it? Don't tell me you don't still look down on him sometimes? Don't tell me you didn't know you could have him all along, that he saved everything for you, that you just have to click your fingers and he'll come running?"
" It's not like that. Neither of us are good with romance. We're just playing it by ear..."
" Diana, you know he's in love with you. He won't say it, but he is. And you're going to use that to get your kicks and get rid of all the sexual frustration and when he thinks he's won you over, that he's finally found a girlfriend, you're going to walk away from the relationship that you know he wants. Abusing your closest friends' trust is easy, isn't it, Diana, when you're heartless?"
" I'm not... I'm not..." She should have heard her blood throbbing in her ears. Nothing.
" You are! You are! How do you expect to win if you don't confront your weaknesses?"
Confront your weaknesses. Diana blinked at the rabbit. A sigh of relief began to form deep inside her. She was being given a chance to confront it. To change it and make it all better. She was heartless. As much as the group was like a family to her, the two she loved the most were the two she had been the most mean and deceitful to. But she could change it. She could become a better friend to Sheila. She could be honest with Eric. Maybe even make something work with him.
" I need help," she said eventually.
The rabbit stepped back from her, and shrunk a little. It smiled, although rabbits shouldn't smile.
" I can help you, Diana." It held out two blood drenched paws. In each one throbbed a gooey, beating human heart. "See?"
Diana clawed at the wall behind her, trying somehow to push her way through.
" What...? What have you done?"
" The Thief and the Cavalier have both already lost. I told them you needed a heart to win. They were happy to provide. Look, you can choose!"
" No!"
" What do you care? You've done as much to them already, and they don't even know! You don't need anybody, you're Diana! Just take one."
" No..."
Darkness was starting to creep over her.
" Take one or you lose."
" I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."
" You don't want to lose, do you? You always have to win at everything! Success is the only thing you can still love!"
" I'm cold..."
The rabbit shook its head. And there was nothing else.