“I’m sorry,” Weaver was saying. “I don’t mean to whine and crab at you, it’s only…I’m so worried about Molly. Our lovely little Molly.”

“I know,” Hatter said. “I know. Me too.”

He had no choice. He had to stay here, trapped between duty to his family and duty to the queendom, at present unable to fulfill either.

E VER SINCE Redd and The Cat had leaped into the Heart Crystal, card soldiers had been posted at the Pool of Tears in case anything from Earth resembling them, physically or in spirit, were to surface. But card soldiers were not enough to deter inconsolable Wonderlanders from throwing themselves into the pool. Criminals, runaways, bankrupts-every so often, down-and-out Wonderlanders made runs for the pool, sprinting past the patrolling soldiers and plunging into the water.

Before Jack of Diamonds used the last of his pocket crystal to bribe a border guard and reenter Wonderland, he passed through satellite encampments of the Gnobi and Scabbler tribes where, on repeated newscasts and to his extreme humiliation, he learned that both of his parents had been convicted of conspiracy to murder Queen Alyss Heart. The moment the white knight had shown up to arrest him

and his father, he’d known King Arch had been setting them up the entire time-using them to deliver his weapon to Homburg Molly, disposing of them once they’d served their purpose.

“Probably never intended to give us back the Diamond Hectariat,” Jack grumbled. “If I had even four pocketfuls of crystal, I’d set him up! I’d show him what happens to anyone who plots against my family!”

But that was the problem: Though he was now in Wonderland, he had no access to the family accounts, the vaults of rubies and emeralds and crystals. As a fugitive from the law, he could not return to the family’s estate, nor was there a single Wonderlander he trusted to offer him refuge.

“Why’d I ever bother coming back here?” he groused.

Without riches, he could not help his parents escape the Crystal Mines, nor could he avoid the authorities for long. Not knowing what else to do, Jack of Diamonds sulked his way to the Whispering Woods and stood peering out at the card soldiers who patrolled the cliff overlooking the Pool of Tears.

“Why, why, whyeeee!” he moaned. “Why’d Arch have to ruin my life? What’d I ever do to him?” After a considerable time spent pulling his hair in disbelief over his reduced state, he sighed, “Here goes,” and made a break for it, running as fast as his flabby legs could carry him toward the cliff’s edge.

Strange. Here he was, a high-ranking escaped convict, and not only were the soldiers not trying to stop him, they didn’t even notice him, too intent on staring down at the Pool of Tears with their crystal shooters and AD52s at the ready. Jack slowed to a jog. Still no one noticed him. When he reached the edge of the cliff, he stopped. Together with the soldiers, he looked down at the bubbling, roiling water. Whirlpools were forming-first one, then another and another.

Someone was coming.

R EDD WAS in the Medieval Court at the Crystal Palace, reclining on a stone bench and flipping idly through the pages of Alice in Wonderland while she exercised her imagination; all around her translucent Redd Hearts performed knee bends, toe touches and hamstring stretches, but they were shooed into nonexistence when The Cat bounded in with a large burlap sack over his shoulder. Without so much as a meow, the feline assassin untied the sack and dumped its contents at his mistress’s feet. A man tumbled out, glancing wildly every which way and cowering as if he expected to be hit. At the sight of Redd, he hugged his knees to his chest, making himself as small as possible, and began mumbling in constant

prayer.

“Are you Lewis Carroll?” Redd asked him. “I-I-I am Charles D-D-Dodgson.”

Redd’s eye twitched-a precursor to violence, as The Cat well knew. He pawed Dodgson in the back of the head. “Explain,” he ordered.

The Don of Mathematics at Christ Church college rubbed his head and spoke in a pout. “I am

Ch-Charles D-Dodgson, also known as L-L-L-Lewis C-Carroll, author of the volume y-you hold…in your hand.”

“So you can’t tell the truth even when it comes to your own name?” Redd said. “How perfect.” Circling him, studying him as if to be certain the timid creature before her could really be responsible for immortalizing her niece on Earth, she asked, “Do you know who I am?”

“A somewhat blurry woman w-wearing a desp-p-picable costume?”

Taking this as a compliment, Redd trounced about like a dame at her ball. “Yes, it’s horrendous, isn’t it?” Several roses snaked out from the thicket of the dress and directed their mouthy blooms at Dodgson. “I am Redd Heart. Did my niece ever mention me?”

“I have never met your n-niece.”

Redd laughed. “Mr. Dodgson, I think we have established that you are a gifted liar, both in person

and…” she thumped Alice in Wonderland, “…in print. Your talent is the reason I brought you here. Your talent and your ill-advised decision to write a book about Alyss Heart, which, doubly unfortunate for you, became popular in this bland world. But do not lie to me, you inconsequential man. You have met my niece and I will not allow myself to be eclipsed by her in Wonderland, on Earth, or anywhere else. You are going to write a book about me, Mr. Dodgson. You will immortalize me, just as you have immortalized Alyss. And my book had better sell more copies than that drivel you scribbled about her.”

“B-B-B-But I know nothing about you.”

“You will start by writing down anything my niece told you about her dear old aunt Redd. As for the rest…make it up.” Redd then turned to her lieutenants, who were lined up against a wall, waiting for when she might find them useful. “Mr. Van de Skulle, take my biographer here to the Greek Court, where he is to live until his manuscript meets with my approval. You’ll find the necessary writing instruments waiting for you,” she said to Dodgson. “You might notice that once you enter the court, thick bars will form on the doors and windows. But don’t worry yourself. They’re only there to prevent you from escaping.”

Shortly after Van de Skulle shoved Reverend Dodgson from the room-

“I’ve found one, Your Imperial Viciousness,” Vollrath said, breathlessly entering the court. “It’s not far from here, on Cockspur Street.”

Redd turned to her lieutenants. “Sacrenoir, you’re in charge until we return. As for recruits, I expect you to enlist only the worst of the worst-which, for my purposes, are the best. Alistaire, Siren, come with us.”

Out on Cockspur Street, pedestrians scattered like nervous rats as Redd marched at the head of

Vollrath, The Cat, Alistaire Poole, and Siren Hecht.