“And there’s something else. The Crystal Continuum-”

She didn’t give him time to say more, turning her imagination’s gaze on Genevieve Square, where Wonderlanders were being launched out of looking glasses with such speed that they smashed through shop windows, upset tarty tart carts, knocked unsuspecting shoppers to the ground, and sent skittish spirit-danes galloping off uncontrollably with their riders. On the corner of Tyman Street and Wondertropolis Way, Alyss watched as a smail-transport in the midst of boarding its passengers was slammed on its side by a knot of Wonderlanders jettisoned from the continuum. And even Wondronia Grounds-normally the site of so much pleasure-was not exempt from the hailstorm of Wonderlanders; Alyss witnessed dinners and cocktail parties thrown into disarray as continuum travelers crashed onto tables, bars, dessert carts.

She had to defend her realm with all the imagination she possessed. The sooner Redd and her Glass Eyes were put down, the less opportunity Dodge would have of succumbing to revenge, of risking his life for

the sake of killing.

“Don’t tell Dodge,” she said, and sprinted down the hall.

Bibwit stared after her for several moments, worried that she might not yet be ready to again battle her aunt, when-

“She was supposed to wait for me.”

Dodge. Surprisingly, and not a little ashamed of it, Bibwit had been too absorbed with thoughts of Glass

Eyes to hear the guardsman emerge from the balcony. “Who was?” he managed. “Alyss.”

“Oh, was she here? I’ve been looking for her myself.” From the folds of his robe, Bibwit retrieved the menu of the Lobster Quadrille, his favorite restaurant in the city. “I have a pardon that needs her signature.”

Dodge squinted, suspicious. “Is that right? With your acute hearing, Bibwit, you can usually find anyone you like.”

Bibwit considered running off. He had never been a good liar. The only way to keep news of the Glass Eyes’ invasion from Dodge would be to avoid the young fellow’s company, for surely the guardsman would pry it out of him otherwise, but-

“Mr. Bibwit, sir! Mr. Bibwit!”

The walrus-butler came waddling toward him from one of the ballrooms.

“I hope you’ve had better luck than I,” said the creature, “because I’ve had none! Not the tiniest bit! No, indeed, I cannot find the queen anywhere!”

“I was just with her,” Dodge said. “I’m sure I can find her for you.”

Behind Dodge’s back, Bibwit shook his head at the walrus-No, shhhh, say nothing-but the poor animal was carried away with worry and woe.

“Then you must tell her, Mr. Dodge-oh, it’s bad news, very unfortunate!-you must inform Queen

Alyss that the Glass Eyes have invaded Wondertropolis!”

Before Bibwit could stop him, Dodge was halfway down the hall with his sword drawn. “Tell Alyss to stay in the palace!” he shouted, and kept running.

T HE FIRE crystals in the shallow pit cast a modest heat as Hatter sat staring at Weaver’s stilled image. He had paused the diary, wondering if something were wrong with its inner workings, because his beloved appeared blurry, as if seen through a veil of water. But then he felt the wet on his cheeks. It wasn’t the diary; he was crying.

She was dressed in the Alyssian uniform: rough-fibered and nondescript except for the emblem of a white heart on the cuff of the right shirtsleeve.

His hand twitched. The diary began to play.

“If you’re viewing this,” Weaver said, “then you have proved wrong all those who currently believe you and the princess are dead…although it also means that I’m most likely dead.”

She smiled sadly at the space between them. Hatter nearly slammed the diary shut. He’d been wrong; he wasn’t ready for this. But to relegate Weaver’s image back inside the book…No, he couldn’t do that either. It would be too much like shutting her away in a tomb. And so he sat there, watching her recorded image, listening to her every word.

“This diary is for me as much as it is you, Hatter. I hope I’ll be able to tell you what I have to say in person, but circumstances here are dangerous. Just because I’m alive today is no guarantee that I’ll be so tomorrow. You probably already know that Redd has destroyed the Millinery. Her goal is genocide, to wipe the Milliner breed from existence. It’s believed that she salvaged the ID tracking system from the Millinery and is using it for this purpose, after which she’ll destroy it. You often told me that one born a Milliner still needs the proper training to make the most of his or her natural gifts, but Redd puts more credence in the birth than in the training. As soon as the first Milliner was ambushed by Redd, I hid out here, not sure if I’d be targeted too. There are rumors that a few Milliners have so far managed to escape their assassins and are hiding undercover somewhere. If the rumors are true, I hope they will continue to evade their would-be murderers so that once the rebellion succeeds-and I believe it must-they will come out of hiding and you can lead them in a new Millinery.”

Hatter felt a twinge; reestablishing the Millinery was the last thing he felt like doing.

“I understand that our relationship was difficult for you, Hatter,” Weaver went on. “I know that despite how thoughtful and loving you always were to me, a part of you was angry with yourself for succumbing

to your feelings for anyone, let alone a civilian. A master of self-control as all of Wonderland believes you to be, you shouldn’t have been consorting with me. You thought your feelings a mark against you, an

indication of weakness.”

“I no longer think so,” he said aloud.

“I always knew your duties could call you away,” Weaver continued. “It was wrong of me not to tell you when I first found out, but…Hatter, my love…I’m sorry.” She wiped her eyes. “I should’ve told you before you left…I was pregnant.”

Hatter remained perfectly still. Pregnant? With his child? So long did he remain unmoving that, when he again became conscious of his surroundings, he thought he had paused the diary. But then he saw Weaver’s chest rise and fall, rise and fall; she was breathing, struggling with her own emotions.

“I know how you feel about halfers,” she said at last, “and I was never sure how you’d react to hearing that you had fathered one. Every time I thought to tell you of my joy-of our joy-I found an excuse not to. I did plan to tell you the next time we’d be on Talon’s Point together. But as you know, there was no next time.”

Too preoccupied with the vision before him, Hatter didn’t hear the pop that sounded-either the bursting of an air bubble in one of the fire crystals or an explosion from outside the cave.

“I couldn’t give birth alone, so I risked an overland journey to the Alyssian camp in the Everlasting