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Her Silver Laughter
Audrey in Wonderland
Permalink Mark Unread

There was a girl who lived in a house that was too big for her.

The house was filled with bookshelves and sealed boxes, but the girl never read any books or opened any boxes. She kept herself to a little room off at the edge of one wing, and never, ever, went exploring.  

When she was hungry, she would pry open cans from the basement of the mansion, using a screwdriver to dig at their seams until they gave up and surrendered their contents. She never knew exactly what she was going to eat, because most of the cans had lost their labels; but it seemed that the former owners had a great love for pasta, so she ate pasta most nights. She heated the cans over a little camp stove that had been left behind, and when the winter pressed against the house, it kept her warm as well.  

In the summer, light would stream in through the windows of the mansion in long, slanting rays that showed every fleck of dust in the air. They filled the house with a still, deadening heat that made movement almost impossible.

The girl hated the light, just as she hated the house. It was a quiet, accepting sort of hatred, the kind of anger that one only has for things one has long since given up on changing. But the girl never stepped into the light, at least not deliberately. She could deny it that much.

One day, the girl found that there were no more cans left in the basement of the house. Desperate for something to eat, she was finally driven to explore the mansion, to disturb the dust and stillness of the darkened halls - and worse, the ones filled with the hungry light.  

Searching through crates and boxes heavy with dust, she found not food, but a mirror. She had never seen a mirror before, but she recognized herself when she saw it. She always knew she looked like that. Not a beautiful girl. Not an ugly girl. Just a girl. 

She reached out, and touched the mirror.

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The mirror is large, big enough that she could step through an empty frame of the same size, and appears to be made of perfectly ordinary glass and metal. The ornate frame is elaborately carved into strange, swirling designs that seem to shift at the corner of her vision. 

When she touches the glass, it seems strangely soft beneath her fingers, as if her hand might sink right through it. A silvery mist begins to spread across the surface from the point of contact, obscuring the reflection. 

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Oh! Well then, that's obvious, isn't it?

She steps into the mirror. 

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Silver mist fills her vision, and there is a sense of disorientation, as though she is briefly weightless and in no particular location.

It passes, and she finds herself stepping out of the mirror into the attic.

Or, no, not the same attic, but its mirror image. The part she can see looks identical, since it would have been visible in the mirror. 

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Well. Hm. 

... she should try to find her room. Is the way down still where it was before?

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Correcting for the way everything has been flipped, the underlying shape and structure of the attic seems to be the same. The part that wasn't visible through the mirror, though, is clearly much more recently used, and is full of neatly-stacked boxes and papers.

There is a clear path to the trapdoor, which is in the same place as it was before, but it's closed and there's no ladder on this side. It looks like it can be opened from either side, though.

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Oh! There are people here. Or at least a person. She should say hello. 

She opens the trapdoor, careful not to let it bang against anything.

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The difference between this house and hers is greater here. The hallway below the trapdoor is clearly well-maintained, if cluttered and lived-in. More boxes are stacked along one side, and one has a stack of hats on top of it. 

There is still no ladder; she'll have to jump down, and it's not clear how she'll get back up if that turns out to be necessary.

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Hmmm. 

Is there a box here filled with soft things? 

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Yup! Most of them are full of boring things, like hats or old books, but the third box she tries is full of blankets, nice and soft and neatly folded. 

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Alright then, let's toss that box down first so she has something comfy to land on. 

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The box plummets through the trapdoor and lands with an audible thud on the floor below. 

There are footsteps in the distance, coming up from the bottom of the house.

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Oh. She'll just sit here and wait for the person to arrive, then. Maybe they'll have a ladder.

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Shortly, a man appears in view, wearing a top hat and a bright blue waistcoat. He looks down at the box, then slowly looks up.

He does a double-take when he sees Audrey.

"...hello," he says, absently taking off his hat so he can stare up at her without it falling off.

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Audrey smiles.

"Hello! Are the blankets okay? I'm afraid I might have insulted them." 

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"I...think the blankets will be fine. More importantly, who are you and how did you get into my attic?" 

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"I'm an Audrey! I came through a mirror. Is this where isn't is?"

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He drops his hat.

"You came through a mirror? From where?"

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She points. "Back that way."

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"Yes, I see that..." 

He thinks for a moment, composing a better question. "Where were you before you came through the mirror?"

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"... Earth, I suppose?"

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"Well then." He holds up a hand, inviting her to jump down.

"Welcome, Miss Audrey, to Wonderland, which is not on Earth, or at least not the Earth you just came from. I am known as the Mad Hatter, and this is my house."

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She hops down, landing with a pluff in the box of blankets. Accepting the Hatter's hand for balance, she stumbles to her feet, and sways. 

"Nice to meet you!" 

She looks him up and down, her eyes not quite focussing. 

"Um. Do you have any food?"

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"Nice to meet you too! Right this way, I'll find you something to eat." He leads her back down the hall in the direction he came from.

"Oh, I should probably warn you about Wonderland food. A lot of it has strange effects unless you take even numbers of bites; I don't think that happens on Earth?"

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Audrey blinks. "Um, not that I know of. I don't suppose you could just pick something with a nice effect? Maybe making my hair pink? I like my hair being pink."

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"Well, I can certainly get you strawberries," the Hatter says, amused, "but you should probably eat other things as well. Bread is one of the few foods that doesn't do anything, if you'd rather not risk forgetting the numbers thing," he offers.

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"Bread and strawberries sounds wonderful, and I'll figure out otherfoods when I, um. Can remember how to say them."

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"Alright." 

They reach the kitchen, which is one of the few rooms in the house not full of hats. In fact, the only hat in here is the one on the Hatter's head. He starts looking in cupboards, and pulls out a loaf of bread from which he cuts Audrey a couple of slices. 

"Butter's safe, too," he says, fetching some and offering her a butter-knife.

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She wolfs them down even before buttering them, then looks at him plaintively. 

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He cuts more, plus one for himself, which he butters in demonstration just in case she doesn't know how.

"Were they not feeding you, back on Earth?"

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"Had to figure out how to feed myself, which wasn't so bad. Then I ran out of food, so I went looking and found a Wonderland instead. As well? As well." 

She stuffs another piece of bread in her mouth, and smiles with her cheeks full. 

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Could this...? No, they wouldn't have allowed...

"Do you remember having parents?" he asks carefully. "Or anyone who looked after you?" 

She might, he realises, not have the concept of parents if she never knew them. But she must have learned to talk somehow, so he can't be the first person she's ever talked to.

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"Ummm. No parents, no. There was a woman with silver hair, she gave me pillows and things. And there was a girl who was lost, like me. I found a way for her to stop living like that, but I couldn't come with her..."

She looks away. 

"... sorry, I don't like to think about it much. Do you have any grapes? Grapes are nice."

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"Yes, I think I have some grapes somewhere." He goes looking.

"They're one of the foods that do things, though, and I can't remember exactly what because it's not one I use. I just eat them two at a time so it doesn't affect me."

He finds a bunch of grapes, takes two, and offers the rest of the bunch to Audrey.

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Audrey pops them quickly into her mouth, not paying much attention to how many there are.

Nothing seems to happen. 

She smiles at the Hatter. "Alright, I think that's settled my stomach for now. So, if this isn't the place where isn't is, where is it? There certainly seems to be enough isn't issing for it to be the place where isn't is." 

Tapping her chin, she frowns. "Oh, I should probably say that like I would to a human. Ummmmmm. If this isn't a place where fantasies are real, what kind of place is it? It seems to have enough fantastic things to be a place like that."

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...'imperfectly and idiosyncratically' is apparently how she learned to talk. At least she can translate into regular speech, even if she doesn't always remember to use it.

"Are you not human, then? Or is it just that your regular conversation partners haven't been?" the Hatter wonders.

"This is Wonderland. It..." He sighs. "It used to be a place that one might describe as 'where fantasies are real'. Now, it's the place where the Queen's fantasies are real, and everyone else has to live with it."

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Audrey blinks. "I should hope not! I mean, you're not a human either, are you? All the interesting people pretend to be humans, but then you get to know them better and they're not. Humans are boring, they don't pay attention and they talk stupidly and they don't know the proper turnings of the world. People are much nicer."

She frowns. "This queen of yours sounds like she's a human." 

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So, in Audrey-speak, human and person are two mutually-exclusive categories? That...bodes well for her accepting Everless and other nonhuman persons, at least, even if it might require some translation.

"I don't know if she's a human biologically, or if she ever was, but she doesn't sound like your description of humans either," he says thoughtfully. "She definitely pays attention, and knows a lot about what goes on in Wonderland, and I wouldn't say she talks stupidly."

"Why call them humans? Why not...stupid people, or something like that?"

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"... being stupid is too vague? Being human is a specific kind of stupid, about being normal and correct and expected and assuming everything else is and trying to make anything or anyone that's not normal or correct or expected be human too. Humans don't understand it when people have more than one mind in the same body, or see sounds, or say that people who are supposed to be in charge are getting things wrong, or anything else strange. When you tell them they call you a liar: if you insist they call you crazy."

She looks at the Hatter seriously. "You have to be a little mad by human standards, if you want to be anyone at all interesting or good or kind." 

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"Well, it's a good thing I'm mad, then, isn't it?" he says with a charming smile.

"And I think you'll find Wonderland is full of mad people. Speaking of which, I should invite my friend Everless to meet you."

The Hatter starts rummaging through his pockets, eventually producing a pen, a small ink bottle, and a crumpled sheet of paper which bears the marks of having been folded up in his pocket for a long time. He starts writing a letter, still holding a slice of bread and butter in his other hand.

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She nods and smiles back. "I don't call them mad people unless they want to be called that. That's a human thing. I just call them people. Who's Everless?" 

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"Everless is a person who happens to be a raven," Hatter explains. To someone less likely to understand, he might have said, a person who spends most of her time in a raven's body, and before he understood, he would have said, a talking raven

"She doesn't like being called mad, but I do, and most of the people you meet here will cheerfully accept the label." He remembers his food exists, and takes two bites out of habit even though bread and butter wouldn't do anything.

"I'm guessing you prefer to be called a person," he continues. "What other labels do you accept? Girl, child...?"

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"Girl, definitely. Child... well, depends. Humans tend to use it to mean I can't do things for myself, which is obviously false. But it's certainly a fact about me that I'm a child. And I don't expect you to use it that way, you know?" 

She cuts herself another slice of bread, and butters it. This time she takes bites from it, rather than just stuffing it all into her mouth.

"A raven, hmm? That's not so bad a body. I wouldn't mind being one, if not for the lack of thumbs."

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"I'm glad you think so highly of me on such short acquaintance."

He laughs at the comment about thumbs. "Oh, Everless solves that problem with Wonderland food. Blackberries let her turn into a raccoon for tasks that needs thumbs. I think she'd prefer to have wings all the time, if it weren't for writing. Which reminds me," he says, leaning forward conspiratorially.

"Do you know," he whispers, as if it is a secret of great importance, "why a raven is like a writing-desk?"

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Audrey grins. "Oh, oh, I know this one! There are three traditional answers, all of which are wrong. In ascending order: 'it isn't', which is technically correct but betrays an amazing lack of creativity: the second is 'Because it's nevar put with the back end in front', which is wrong of writing desks, terrible to the language, and rude to ravens: and the third is 'Poe wrote on both', which is an acceptable pun but falls completely flat if the person you're talking to doesn't know Poe." 

Audrey adjusts her glasses. "If you want to know my honest answer... it's because if you need to share a secret, you can tell it to a raven or a writing-desk, and it will go to the people who should know."

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"That," he proclaims with delight, "is the best answer I have heard to that question in all the decades I have been asking it of people. I'd almost think you'd met Everless already, but..."  He trails off, struck by a thought again.

"No, the odds are astronomical. We calculated them once - " He cuts himself off with a shake of his head, coming to a decision. "I'll ask Everless what she thinks. I could very easily be imagining things, but if I'm right..."

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Audrey pauses. "... you know, it always seemed like I didn't quite fit right on earth, and that mirror looked... familiar. Are you going to tell me that you think I was originally from Wonderland?" 

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"I'm not sure, but I think it's possible," Hatter agrees. "If so, you went to Earth as a very small child, probably, since you don't remember."

He seems slightly distracted. "Do you remember where your name came from?" he asks, starting to write again.

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"I named myself. I'm not sure why Audrey: it just seemed to fit. Why? Should I have a different one?"

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"If Audrey is the name you chose, then it is your name. I was only asking because, if my theory happens to be right, you used to have a different one."

The Hatter finishes the letter and folds it into an envelope shape. After writing something on the back, he re-folds it into something more like a little paper bird, which starts flapping its wings once it's finished. Getting up from the table, he heads out of the kitchen and takes it to the front door, where he lets it fly away.

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Audrey smiles, shifting in her seat to watch the bird fly away. "That's a proper sort of letter, isn't it? Very obliging."

Then she looks back at the Hatter. "Go on, tell me about my maybe history then."

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"Well, I'm afraid I don't know all the details, and I might even be entirely wrong about which missing Wonderlander you are," he cautions. "Still, there's no harm in telling you the story as I know it.

"Once upon a time, Wonderland was ruled by a brother and a sister, the Red King and the Red Queen. Their names were Lionel and Sophia, and they ruled together as equals for many years." There's a hint of some emotion in his eyes when he names Lionel, although he mostly manages to keep it out of his voice.

"Then, Queen Marcella - although she wasn't queen then, of course - launched a surprise coup. Somehow, she acquired the ability to steal people's hearts, and it's thought that she used this to get an opportunity to poison the king and queen's food."

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"... but one of their loyal courtiers managed to send the baby princess through a mirror, far away to another land where she would be safer?"

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"Close!" the Hatter concedes, grinning.

"You see, the poison wasn't the type that kills you. Well, I say poison - actually, it was peach juice." 

He explains, "Peaches make you younger, in Wonderland. So when the King and Queen ate food with peach juice in, they were turned into little children. Queen Sophia became a toddler, perhaps two or three, and King Lionel was a five-year-old."

Hatter smiles briefly at the memory of two cute toddlers with too-big crowns falling down over their heads, then the expression flickers and dies.

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"Marcella got them alone, ripped out Lionel's heart - " his voice does crack, this time " - and was about to do the same to Sophia, when she was interrupted.

He pauses to wipe his eyes with the edge of one frilly sleeve.

"The Red Bishop, the monarchs' greatest adviser, found Marcella and managed to distract her long enough for Sophia to be rescued, and spirited away through a mirror - far away, to another land where she would be safer," he echoes.

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Audrey frowns. 

"... That's odd, usually it's a princess. So I might be... the Red Queen?" 

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"Usually?" the Hatter exclaims, spluttering.

"This has happened before?"

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"Yes and no. In the Earth I came from, there are many stories of fantastic places, fairy tales the humans call them. In a world with magic that I arrived at through a mirror, the stories would expect me to be a princess - but if I'm a queen instead?" 

She frowns more deeply. "That says this doesn't quite fit the form. Something is... wrong or different, which usually means the tale is twistier, more complex. And queens have more responsibilities than princesses." 

She runs her hands through her hair. "... is there a prophecy? I hope it's a nice prophecy."

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"There's...sort of a prophecy?" he hedges.

"I mentioned the Red Bishop... well, the price he paid for Sophia's safety was that Marcella managed to remove his own heart. He'd always had the power to see into the future and the past, but now he can't distinguish the present from all the other times in his head. So he'll sometimes speak to people thinking they're Lionel or Sophia, or their father the first Red King," Hatter explains sadly.

"Some of the time, he's looking into the future, and we can't tell when, but we think someday Lionel and Sophia might be restored to the throne."

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"Well. Assuming I'm the missing Red Queen, then that implies..." 

She taps her fingers against her chin. 

"One, hearts can be returned to their rightful owners. Two, we're going to need to find Lionel's and return it to him. Three, there is some way to depose Marcella. If this was a simpler tale, I'd expect it to be something about the hearts she's stolen that'll be her downfall... but it's probably best not to assume."

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"An admirable sentiment," croaks a voice from the doorway. 

A large black raven hops through the door and flaps her way up to perch on the back of a chair.

"I am Everless," she introduces herself. "And you?"

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"I'm an Audrey! Audrey Ingram. It's nice to meet you, Everless. I've always liked ravens." She curtsies.

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Everless responds with a little bob up and down which might be interpreted as a bow.

"It is nice to meet you as well, Audrey. Hatter says you came through a mirror; is that true?"

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"Yes, that's true. We've been going over the implications at some length."

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"She had the best answer to the writing-desk question," Hatter says, bouncing in his seat.

"Go on, Audrey, say it again?" 

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"Should I include the bit about why the traditional three answers are wrong?"

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Everless looks intrigued.

"Certainly." 

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Audrey smiles. "Let me see if I can get this right again from memory... There are three traditional answers, all of which are wrong. In ascending order, we have: 'It isn't', which is technically correct but betrays a serious lack of creativity; 'Because it's nevar put with the back end in front', which is wrong of writing desks, horrible to the language, and rude to ravens; and last and best of the wrong answers, 'Poe wrote on both', which is an acceptable pun but falls completely flat if your adience hasn't heard of Poe." 

She nods to Everless. "As for my real answer... It's that if you need to share a secret, you can tell it to a raven or a writing-desk, and it will go to those who should know."

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Everless laughs delightedly.

"I agree," she says to Hatter when she is calm enough to speak. "That one wins."

She shakes herself, and is back to business. "Now, did I hear something about deposing Marcella?"

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"Well, if it turns out that I'm the Red Queen then I expect it'll rather be me or her. And I would rather it be me, not least because it seems your Queen of Hearts is a rather vicious, scheming sort." 

She blinks. "Queen of Hearts. Red queen and king and bishop. Was there ever a White Queen, or a Queen of Spades, Diamonds or Clubs? I'm noticing a theme here. Significant knights, rooks, pawns, jacks? Maybe even pages?"

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"Well, aren't you a smart one," Everless croaks.

"The Red King - Lionel and Sophia's father, that is - conquered Wonderland, which was previously divided between himself and the White King and Queen. The White monarchy died with them, unfortunately, or that would be a potential source of challenge to Marcella," she muses.

"There is not a Queen of Spades or Clubs, but the leaders of the Resistance are known as the King and Queen of Diamonds. Marcella has a King, Rodion, and a son called Jack." 

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"Mmm. It does indeed bode poorly that Red conquered White, but then again White would have made the first move... and it's red and white, not black and white. So not all is lost, not yet... no Pages, hmm? Any cups, wands, staves, swords, coins, or pentacles?"

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"Cups...do exist in Wonderland, yes, but I suspect not in the sense that you mean. Swords and coins likewise. I believe there were pages at the Red Court, and Marcella still keeps a few, but they are of no importance politically or magically," Everless evaluates.

"Are you skilled in the interpretation of portents, then? I should show you my notes on the Seer's ramblings, and see if you can make anything of those."

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"Actually," Hatter cuts in, "I was hoping to ask you about that."

He explains his theory that Audrey is Sophia, and fills Everless in on what he has discovered of Audrey's past.

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She nods.

"It is possible, yes. However, I require more information before I will accept the hypothesis. She is the right age, and a mirror-walker, but those could be coincidences."

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"To me, this world is..." 

She frowns a little. "Rightly-turning? Things have reasons for existing and fall into patterns I can extrapolate from. It's a giant game between White and Red that White lost, but then Marcella came and quite literally changed the game. We're playing poker now, not chess. And that suggests to me that trying to take the name of the Red Queen would be... double-edged, at best. Marcella won by changing the rules. I'd like to change the rules out from under her."

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"Yes," she says to Hatter. "I see what you meant, now."

To Audrey, she says, "There is a way we could perhaps find out for certain. Sophia's reflection was not de-aged when she was, if I remember right, and would still look like the queen we knew. Have you looked in a mirror since you arrived here?"

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"No, I haven't. I wasn't exactly in a fit state. Do you have one handy?"

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"Oh, I'm sure I can dig one out from somewhere..." Hatter says. 

He leads Audrey through to a sitting room, which is full of hats and hatboxes stacked on every surface. One corner has a curtain draped over a section of wall, and he pulls the curtain back to reveal a full-length mirror with a simple wooden frame.

Stepping back, he gestures for her to stand in front of it. Everless flaps her way onto his shoulder to get a better view.

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She steps forwards, and looks into the mirror. 

 

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She has no reflection.

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Hatter blinks. 

"Well. That's something."

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Everless lets out a surprised caw, then cocks her head to one side.

"May I perch on your shoulder?" she asks Audrey after a few seconds of thought. 

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"Sounds like an interesting idea. Go ahead!"

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Hatter helpfully transfers her from his own shoulder to Audrey's by letting her perch on his wrist.

Everless' reflection, unlike Audrey's, shows up perfectly well in the mirror, as does Hatter's arm where it comes into view. She steps from one perch to the other, and her reflection hesitantly puts out a foot to follow suit.

It goes through thin air; the reflected bird overbalances and falls off Hatter's arm, flapping and squawking in perfect silence as if she's on the other side of a thick window. 

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Audrey stifles a giggle.

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The reflected raven rights herself, preens her feathers back to smoothness, and hops through the mirror. 

"Her reflection appears to be elsewhere," she reports. 

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"... of course Everless' reflection is also a person. I should have been paying more attention."

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The two ravens begin discussing theories, talking over each other in a barely-understandable cacophony.

"Reflections in Wonderland are alive," Hatter explains, "although I doubt most of them would meet your definition of 'person'. They can move and speak independently of whoever is casting them, and some - like mine and Everless' - can move through mirrors. In general, if a person is a mirrorwalker, their reflection is as well."

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"Are they like the people who cast them?"

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"The theory - and mind that I'm not an expert, but Everless is busy - is that your reflection is something like...the way you see yourself, or the person you would like to be."

He gestures at his own reflected image in the mirror, which appears to be a mundane Earth-type exact reflection. "Mine doesn't always look like this; right now it's a stand-in because my real reflection is elsewhere. But it's not very different."

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Audrey considers that for a long moment. 

"... I see. That has Implications. If my reflection can do things, what is it doing right now...?" 

She sighs. "Add that to the list of Plot Points: 'find my missing reflection for insights into who I Truly Am.' As if I haven't done enough introspection already."

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"Yes, that does sound like it would be useful," the Hatter agrees.

"It may not be that easy, though. Your reflection could be anywhere in Wonderland or its mirrors."

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Discussion apparently concluded, one of the ravens - probably the reflection, if that's even a meaningful distinction - takes off and disappears through the mirror.

"This would be a particularly useful moment for the Cheshire Cat to appear," muses the remaining Everless, "which undoubtedly means that he will decline to do so."

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"I mean, it wouldn't be a Quest if it was easy. The real, ha, quest-ion is what to start with, my missing reflection or the lion with the missing heart."

She rubs the back of her lips with one finger. "... we seem to have a rash of disappearances, don't we? I'm not sure what that means, but... something to note." 

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"There is an additional issue with restoring Lionel's heart," Everless says.

"Lionel himself is the Queen's loyal servant, having spent the last decade being raised and indoctrinated by Marcella personally. Does that fit into your patterns?"

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"... Marcella stole his heart. It's within tolerances." 

She rubs her chin and frowns. 

"Still not a good sign. An ace up..." 

Audrey sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose. "Is his title literally the Ace. Is that what he is."

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Hatter gives up on trying to keep a straight face and starts laughing, a little hysterically.

He ends up sitting on the floor with his back against the side of an armchair, face buried in his hands.

"How...?"

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"If I had a deck of cards I could explain! But alas, I don't. Let me guess, there's a Ten of Hearts down to a Two of Hearts as well?"

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"...Yes," Everless confirms. "So named for the number of Wonderlanders' hearts they have been granted for their personal use. The higher the number, the higher in Marcella's favour. It is also, to a first approximation, a guide to their relative magical and political power."

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Audrey nods seriously. "This is important, so listen carefully. So long as Marcella has her Ace, her King, her Jack, and her Ten, the court of Diamonds will only ever be able to equal her in strength... save perhaps if there's a wild card, but even then we'd need five of a kind and Marcella has all the Hearts. We can't beat her at her own game: she quite literally holds all the cards."

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Everless nods seriously. "That is consistent with the available evidence. The Resistance has made no headway in the past decade."

She moves from the floor to the back of Hatter's chair, so as to be closer to Audrey's eye level.

"What would you suggest? You mentioned changing the game - finding a different metaphor in which she does not have the high ground. Does that still appear to be the best solution, or should we first attempt to relieve her of one or more of her Hearts?"

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"I think Lionel is key, as her Ace and the former Red King... but claiming him would hardly be simple. We'll need to gather more cards of our own before we can..." 

She considers her words for a moment, then smiles. "... take a trick from the Queen of Hearts."

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The Hatter seems to have mostly recovered, although Audrey's latest words send him into another brief giggling fit.

"I can contact the King and Queen of Diamonds, although they may not be able to respond immediately. We could also try our luck finding the Wandering Seer, as the Bishop is now known."

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"A Hermit is just the thing to add to our hand, especially given that this is apparently a... never mind, that's not important. In any case, we should try and find the Wandering Seer."

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"That sounds like an excellent plan!" the Hatter says with mock enthusiasm.

"Slight problem, though: we have no idea how to find him."

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Everless elaborates.

"Not only does the Seer wander unpredictably, but the geography of Wonderland itself is not stable or predictable, which renders any attempt at a systematic search nonsensical."

She sighs, clearly frustrated by this. "Our best hope of finding him is to first stumble upon the Cheshire Cat, who is equally unpredictable but far more sociable, and hope that he is in an altruistic enough mood that he will guide us to the Seer."

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"Mmm. Nonetheless, I think it's worth a try."

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The Hatter nods, and hauls himself to his feet.

"One of us should go with you, and the other should contact the rest of the Resistance and inform them of recent developments. Any preferences?"

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"You said the topography changes? In that case, Everless is less likely to be separated from me, provided they don't mind perching on my shoulder."

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"It...doesn't tend to change on that scale, but it's not unheard of," Hatter concedes. "I will write to the King and Queen of Diamonds, and attempt to contact a few others as well."

He shows Audrey to the front door, the raven swooping ahead of them to wait for her on the porch.

"Everless knows how to find the way back to this house. Good luck!"

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She smiles and waves. "See you!" 

... then she looks outside.

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There are no other buildings in sight; Hatter's house stands alone in the clearing, with trees on every side. 

From the front of the house, a path edged with flowers leads away into the green woods.

It is a bright, sunny day, and the sky above is a clear deep violet across which drift fluffy turquoise clouds. 

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... That seems a much more proper color of sky. 

She steps out onto the front porch, and offers Everless an arm. 

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Everless perches on it. She's quite heavy, but not so much that Audrey can't carry her.

"You might as well choose which direction to walk in," she says, "since it does not especially matter. I will warn you if we are headed somewhere dangerous, but as long as you avoid the palace that should not be a problem."

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Audrey smiles. "If you pick directions at random, no wonder you don't get anywhere. For the moment though, there is only one obvious path..."

She heads off into the woods.

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"It is more that, since we do not know where we are going, I do not have any more information than you on how we should get there," Everless clarifies.

"And yes, for now we follow the path."

 

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And so they do.

The woods are light and open, with flowers scattered about beneath the trees. Nearly everything in sight is one of thousands of shades of green. 

They come to a fork in the path, one branch going off to either side. Down one, the trees seem to have a blue tinge, and down the other, they look more yellow and orange. There is no other apparent difference between the two paths.

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... Blue. More cool, reserved, subdued. More hermity.

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They walk down the blue path. 

The way starts to slope upwards, the trees thinning out and the breeze picking up until they are walking along the side of a grassy, windswept ridge. Before them stretches a wide, open moor covered in blue grass and plants with small purple flowers. The occasional standing stone, or fallen one, is dotted about the hilly landscape.

Everless says something, but the wind rushes in Audrey's ears and drowns her out.

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Standing stones. 

Slow down, careful. This road - this woad? - this place has danger and power to it. Transfer Everless to her shoulder so she can speak into her ear? Yes. Slowly, so the wind won't catch her. She's light, especially compared to someone like Audrey.

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"This seems like the right kind of place," Everless says into her ear.

"I have never seen this exact location before, so I cannot help you navigate it. But I believe we may be on the borders of Wonderland."

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"It... Fits the pattern. Careful of the stones, and the spaces." 

Audrey steps off the path towards the closest of the fallen stones, watching the alignments, careful not to wander between any two of the monoliths.

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Is that the faint sound of someone humming, or is it just the wind?

It's hard to tell directions or distances, but it seems to be coming from somewhere in front of her. 

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Careful of the alignments still, but let's go towards the humming.

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As she comes around a hill, the source of the humming becomes visible.

An old man with a long white beard, dressed in ragged clothing of which the original colour cannot be guessed, is stumping around with the aid of a gnarled walking-stick. His humming, now more clearly audible, is ragged and only occasionally tuneful. He seems to find it sufficient to dance to, though, or perhaps he is imagining musical accompaniment which Audrey cannot hear.

He does not appear to have noticed their presence.

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Audrey stands a respectful distance away, though not so far as to risk losing him, and listens to him hum. If she can catch enough of the melody...

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This may be made difficult by the fact that his singing, although it does now contain lyrics, is not especially melodic. His voice cracks and warbles, wandering around the tune unpredictably.

After a minute or so, he stops abruptly, whirling around with surprising speed to stare in Audrey's direction with a startled screech.

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Audrey... hums. Idly, tunelessly, letting her voice wander and waver unsteadily, never quite sure of her own next note. She doesn't approach the Seer: she keeps her eyes downcast in deference, looking at his feet.

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After a moment or two, he approaches, walking much straighter than he was before, and bows creakily.

"My lady," he says, looking over the top of her head, "may I have this dance?"

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She nods, curtseys, and offers him her hand. She doesn't let her humming falter.

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The Seer begins humming again as he takes her hand, the same tune as earlier.

Only, this time, a harmony emerges. Audrey's tune provides the other half of the puzzle, filling in the gaps that were missing before and which made it so hard to hear where the music was going.

They dance, the old man surprisingly graceful now he has a partner. His movements seem less nonsensical and more purposeful. He is still looking at the thin air just above Audrey's head.

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She doesn't mind. No matter who the Seer sees, she's confident it's still a her. Etiquette dictates she follow his lead.

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Everless watches, perching on a fallen stone to get a higher vantage point.

The dance continues, and, just on the edge of hearing, so faint it might be nothing more than the wind, strains of music accompany them.

Eventually, the music comes to a close. The Seer releases Audrey's hands and steps back, bowing as formally as if they were at a ball, and not alone on an empty heath.

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She curtseys, and then- 

"Walker of the ways of time, I am come to ask our new-old question again."

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"Ask," he tells her solemnly, "and I shall answer." It has the air of a ritual, of something repeated a hundred hundred times until it has meaning more in the repetition than in the action itself.

In the distance, carried on the wind, there is the sound of bells striking the hour.

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"Seer, what should I hold to? When all times are as one, what endures?"

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Slowly, and still with the air of a ritual - he is not speaking to Audrey, here and now, but to many versions of her across the past and the future - the Seer speaks.

"I can see the carven stone of the past, and the myriad silver webs of the future, laid out as clear as the road that runs to the palace gates. But I cannot see inside the hearts of men and women, to know what it is that drives one to continue, to strive, to grow."

For the first time, he lowers his gaze to meet Audrey's eyes. "What is it that drives you, my Lady Sophia? What is in your heart?"

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She pauses a moment in thought. She has to get this right, yet it would be wrong to overthink it. So: a moment, no longer, then...

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"I want that which I love to endure. I want the world to be safe and kind and just and true. I want to be something others can hold to, something sure beneath their feet, a ward against the world. I want to be strong for those who have nothing. I want, more than anything, to help. To make the world more its proper self, to make people more their proper selves, to heal the broken, the sick, the dying. I want..."

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"...I want, I want, I want I want I want. I want so many things, and so few of them are within my grasp. We've said these words before, and we will again. Yet..."

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She bows her head. 

"... so long as there's something left for me to change, something left broken or hurting or wrong, I will ask this question, a thousand times if need be."

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She lifts her gaze to meet the Seer's again, blinking back tears. 

"When I am come again to ask of you, will you answer? Will you help me remember?"

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"Always, my lady. Always."

He smiles as he meets her gaze, seeming for a long second to be perfectly sane and present in the moment. 

Then, his eyes unfocus, looking through Audrey at something that was or will be behind her, and he turns to limp away on some asynchronous errand. 

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She watches him go, then turns to look around for Everless.

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Everless is perched on the edge of a fallen dolmen, watching the Seer as he stumps off into the hazy distance.

"That," she comments, "is the sanest I have seen him act since..." 

She shakes herself.

"Do you have what you came for?"

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"... I think so. And if that's not confirmation I used to be the Red Queen, I'm not sure what is."

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"Yes," Everless agrees, "he did seem to recognise you as Queen Sophia. That, in itself, would not be conclusive, but in the course of that recognition he responded coherently to your actions, your speech and your questions," she observes.

"We have, I believe, reached a point at which the balance of probability is in favour of the hypothesis that you are indeed our missing Queen."

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She nods. 

"... back to Hatter's house, then?"

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"I believe so, yes."

She hops back onto Audrey's shoulder, landing as delicately as possible. The revelation that Audrey is in fact her rightful monarch does not appear to have altered her behaviour at all. 

"Do you still wish to be known by the name of Audrey, now that you are aware you were once called Sophia by your parents?"

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"... I'll stay with Audrey. It fits me better. After all, I have no actual experience being queen."

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"As you like," she agrees. "You have many more memories of being Audrey than of being Sophia, at present.

"We must hope that you will eventually be able to obtain experience as a ruler, but first we must deal with the one calling herself queen, and sitting on the throne which should be yours."

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"'Should be mine' is putting it a bit strongly, don't you think? Until today I was a nobody. Now I have illustrious parents and an interesting history involving amnesia, which doesn't matter one whit to whether I should be in charge." 

She pauses. "... not that I'd mind, but too many people tend the things they're supposed to care for poorly. If nothing else I should meet the leaders of the Resistance first."

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"That, ironically, is evidence in favour of your competence as a ruler," Everless says. 

"Were you supremely confident in your right to rule, I would be far more reluctant to assist you to power."

She resettles herself more securely on Audrey's shoulder. "Now, perhaps we should begin to retrace our steps?"

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Audrey nods, and turns back towards the path. 

...it is still there, right?

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The path is right where they left it.

However, just as they reach it, a hideous screech rings out, and a massive beast drops out of the sky to bar their way. It's at least three times Audrey's height even on all fours, with ragged leathery wings and thick grey-green hide. Its claws scrape the ground, gouging out large strips of turf.

It roars in Audrey's face, giving her an excellent view of its black tongue and yellow teeth. Some of the fangs look nearly as long as her head. Its breath stinks of rotting meat, and its eyes seem to be aflame with some inner fire.

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... that is perhaps the very definition of 'not a good sign.'

She takes half a step backwards before she recovers her wits, then pauses. 

"... Hello?"

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"Back away, slowly," Everless whispers in her ear.

"Do not make eye contact, and make no sudden moves."

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The monster screams in Audrey's face again, sending her hair flying back, and then sniffs her.

It draws in a huge breath that blows her hair forwards again, and then rears back a little so it is not quite as close. The overpowering stench recedes a little.

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Okay, okay she still has all her limbs, this is good. 

She takes another slow step back. 

"... can you understand me?"

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It blinks its massive eyes several times, shaking its head ponderously.

After a few seconds, it dips its neck in a cautious nod, and takes a half-step away and to the side.

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She stops, closes her eyes for a moment, takes a steadying breath. 

"Have I offended?"

She looks at its... not eyes, neck? She needs to see if... it? Let's go with that, if it nods again.

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Leaning in, it sniffs at her again, then seems to come to a decision.

The huge creature looks at her, and deliberately wags its head from side to side in an approximation of a headshake. 

It makes the screeching noise again, but quieter. It sounds like a creaky door.

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Oh. Oh, good.

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... okay, so then why is it here? 

"Do you want to... show me something? Somewhere?"

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This produces more screeching and creaking noises, varying in pitch and duration. 

It begins to pace back and forth across the path, gesturing aimlessly with its wings until one catches on a branch and gets twigs poking through the membrane. 

The monster screams, rearing up on its hind legs for a moment and thrashing about with its tail. The other wing is held carefully out of the way, close to its side. 

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Okay, something not good and important, but this is going to take more communication than she has. 

... also someone should do something about that branch. 

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"...Everless, are you feeling brave enough to extricate that wing from the tree?"

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Still whispering as quiet as she can, Everless hisses, "You want me to help the Jabberwock?"

Recovering her composure a little, she continues, "I feel compelled to inform you that this beast is responsible for seventeen deaths and twenty-three life-changing injuries over the last decade, and will no doubt continue to be responsible for many more."

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Audrey doesn't dignify Everless' whispering by lowering her own voice. It's rude to whisper about people you're standing in front of. 

"Did anyone try talking to the Jabberwock before? It's smart enough to answer questions with a nod or a head shake, did anyone try treating it as anything other than a beast? Starving, hurting, isolated people who get treated as monsters by everyone tend to make bad decisions."

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"You...may have a point," Everless admits after a pause.

Hesitantly, she flaps off Audrey's shoulder and onto the tree, hopping from branch to branch to get a better view of where the Jabberwock's wing is caught.

"I think this may be a task for opposable thumbs," she diagnoses, "at least if we wish to avoid causing further damage. Can you see any blackberries around?"

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Audrey quickly surveys the environment. If nothing berrylike is in evidence, she supposes she'll just have to climb the tree.

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While there are no berries immediately in evidence from Audrey's viewpoint, the Jabberwock makes a noise that sounds surprisingly like an 'aha', and cranes its neck down to tear a spray of blackberries off from a nearby tangle of brambles. Holding the thorny stalk carefully between its teeth, it offers the berries to Everless.

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She takes one delicately, using one claw as a counterweight against the stem to pull it off, and eats it.

The small body of the raven begins to blur and expand, mostly retaining the dark colour but taking on an entirely different shape. Wings shrink and lengthen into arms, legs stretch out, the beak shrinks as ears grow from the enlarged head.

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Within no more than a couple of seconds, a sleek grey raccoon is balanced in the tree where there was previously a raven. 

Thanking the Jabberwock belatedly, she sniffs around its wing, inspecting it more closely than she had dared before. Eventually, sneaking worried glances at the beast every few seconds, she begins to manipulate the twigs holding the wing in place, working some of them free.

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Audrey smiles and gives a thumbs-up to Everless.

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The Jabberwock holds very still while Everless works, occasionally making little pained noises when something catches wrong, but otherwise remaining quiet.

After several agonising minutes, the last twig breaks and is removed by the raccoon's steady paws.

"There," she says quietly. "Audrey, I hope you are right."

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"Well, let's see." 

She looks at the Jabberwock. 

"Jabberwock - do you mind if I call you Jabberwock?"

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The Jabberwock folds its injured wing back against its side, moving with exaggerated caution. 

At Audrey's question, it swings its head round to stare at her, head waving from side to side so that it can study her from different angles. 

It produces some more creaky-door noises, managing to give them the intonation of a question.

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That's probably a "why"...?

"Everyone should have a name they like, not just what people call them. It's rude to ignore people's opinions, even and especially if they have problems saying things." 

 

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More confused noises, and then something that sounds like it might be intended as laughter. 

It tilts its head to one side, clearly having decided to give the question some serious consideration. Making up its mind, the Jabberwock nods and makes an almost recognisable attempt at reproducing the syllables of its name, although it seems to be having trouble with consonants.

Shaking itself like a dog, it growls under its breath at its own inability to speak intelligibly. 

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Audrey looks at Everless, then back at the Jabberwock. 

"... Everless, do you think a blackberry might help the Jabberwock with its body's problems talking? Jabberwock, if Everless thinks it might help, would you like to try changing your body with a blackberry?"

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"Speaking of blackberries, I would like to return to my usual form now that I no longer require this one," Everless says. 

The Jabberwock holds out the blackberries so she can reach them, and she takes one. 

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"Much better," she proclaims, fluffing up her feathers in satisfaction and flapping back out of the tree to perch on Audrey's shoulder again.

"As for the Jabberwock...I am unsure what the results would be, were it to eat a blackberry. However, it seems a relatively safe experiment to make, since the effect will be trivially reversible if it proves unsatisfactory."

The Jabberwock nods slowly, looking down at the branch it is still holding.

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"You really don't have to, Jabberwock! If you want to stay in your current body that's okay too, we'll just have to figure out a different way to talk."

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That seems to decide it. 

Taking a deep breath, the Jabberwock plucks a single blackberry from the stalk with its teeth, and eats it. 

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The massive beast begins shrinking rapidly, sprouting brown, black, and white feathers at the same time, until it almost seems to disappear.

After a moment, a small bird is visible, sitting on the path where the Jabberwock was standing. 

It chirps experimentally, and almost falls over in surprise at the sound, letting out a high-pitched squeak of astonishment. 

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Audrey grins. 

"Do you like your new body?"

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It hops forward, turning its head from side to side so as to look at her out of each eye in turn.

"--ike?" it mimics experimentally. "Like?" 

It blinks, and lets out a trill of excitement. "Like like like!" it sings.

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Audrey nods. "Good! I don't want you to be sad with your new body." 

She tilts her head. "Everless says you've hurt a lot of people. Is that true or not? Don't worry, even if the answer is 'yes' I'm not going to hurt you. Hurting people for hurting people just breaks the world more."

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"...ess," it says quietly, hopping from side to side and fluttering its new wings a little. 

"Yes, ess."

With a running start, it manages to take off and circle round to land on the branch of a tree, around Audrey's head height.

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"... I'm sorry. Do you want to make it right?"

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It bobs its head in a little nod.

"Yes," it says. "Make...right."

It gives a pleased trill when it notices it got the new words right on the first try.

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Audrey smiles. "Good. Care to take my other shoulder?"

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It watches her for a while, cocking its head first to one side and then the other.

Eventually, fluffing up its feathers to make itself look bigger for a moment, it takes a deep breath and flutters down onto Audrey's free shoulder.

It's considerably lighter than Everless, and doesn't do much to balance out her weight. As well, it is much more nervous and fluttery, seeming unable to settle down and sit still.

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Audrey hums. 

"Oh, Jabberwock. Were you trying to tell me something before all this? I'm sorry, making sure you were okay was more important."

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"Trying," it agrees. "Impooor'ant."

It doesn't seem to have entirely mastered speech yet, but it's doing impressively well if it only learned to talk a few minutes ago.

It starts to say something else - 

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- and a black-clad figure steps out of the trees, an arrow aimed in their general direction.

"Trespasser! Declare yourself and state your intentions," she commands, looking at Audrey.

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"I'm Audrey Ingram, and I'm no trespasser! I'm from right here in Wonderland. I'm sorry, am I somewhere I oughtn't to be?"

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"You are on the borders of Wonderland, and it was not clear from which direction you came," she clarifies. "Since I do not recognise you, and I would expect to, I assumed that you were an outsider."

She frowns. "How do I know that you are telling the truth? Neither your face nor your name are familiar to me."

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She shrugs. "Don't ask me, we're all mad here."

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"Heh." 

The figure steps out of the shadows a little, onto the path. The movement reveals the four red jewels pinned to her chest, forming the corners of a square. Each glows slightly with its own inner light, radiating out from a spark at the centre.

The phenomenon is surprisingly entrancing.

"Well, you certainly sound like a native," the Four of Hearts admits.

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On Audrey's shoulder, the little jay buries itself under her hair, attempting to avoid notice.

"Run," it chirps in a whisper.

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Audrey bows deeply. 

"Four of Hearts! I'm so sorry, I didn't recognize you. Would it be impertinent for me to ask what someone so illustrious is doing on border patrol?"

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"Performing my duty to the Queen by guarding her lands, as I always have."

She narrows her eyes at Audrey.

"Are you sure you live in Wonderland? How do you not know such basic information as the spheres of influence of the Hearts?"

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"Of course I knew that you were in charge of such things, but I expected that the Spades would be tasked with the day-to-day of keeping the borders. Surely your place would be close to the Queen, as one of her most trusted."

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"It is a mark of the Queen's trust that I am given this task..."

She sounds unsure, and the arrow-point is beginning to droop.

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"And a goodly four Hearts as well! I envy you, to be honest: I've often wondered what it would take to become a Heart to the Queen. Alas, we can't all be as lucky as her Ace."

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Four snorts.

"The Ace? Well, I don't envy him, but I can see how you might...and, you know, he does have the closest access to the Queen of any of us..."

She looks thoughtful. Her bow and arrow are now entirely forgotten, hanging loose in her hands and no longer threatening Audrey.

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"It's hard to compete with 'raised from a toddler to be the Queen's right hand', you know? You must have done something terribly impressive to even be her Four." 

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"Oh, I don't know. I mean, I was honoured to be chosen, of course, but..."

One might get the impression that Four is a little dazed.

"But I'm nothing special. Why would she trust me with any great responsibility?"

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"Good work," Everless whispers.

"Keep her talking and we should be able to get past without too many difficult questions."

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"You're being too hard on yourself! Clearly there must be something special about you, or the Queen wouldn't have picked you, right? Maybe it's something about the Hearts, that they need the right kind of person to unlock their powers..."

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"I...maybe?"

Reminded of the hearts on her chest, she looks down at them, tapping one with a gloved finger. 

"I don't think I necessarily do anything to activate them, really - it's all quite instinctive." She doesn't sound very certain of any of this.

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Audrey tilts her head. 

"Well, um. I ordinarily wouldn't dream of suggesting this, but there is a fairly obvious test - you could hand me a Heart for a few moments and see if I can do anything with it."

She gives Four her best smile. "I'd take it as a favour: if I can't do anything with it then at least I know I'll never be a Heart, you know? I can stop dreaming and focus on maybe being a Spade or a Club instead."

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"I'm really, really not supposed to give them out to anyone," she protests. 

"Even if you promise to give it straight back and not do anything dangerous with it - what if the Queen found out?" Four looks faint at the very possibility. "She would never trust me again! I could forget being the Four of Hearts, or the anything of Hearts."

One might, if one were paying attention, notice that she is not being entirely truthful about her reasons for not giving away any hearts.

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Audrey hums. "Fair enough. I wouldn't like to risk the Queen's displeasure either. But... even if you can't let me borrow one, could you maybe let me touch one...? That's really not giving one, is it?"

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Four considers it for a few long seconds. She takes one of the hearts from its fastening, turning it over and over in her hands and staring into its crimson depths. 

"Alright," she says eventually.

"I suppose letting you touch it cannot do any great harm." 

She holds it out to Audrey, hand shaking a little. Her fingers are clenched tight around the gem, white-knuckled.

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Audrey reaches out and lays a comforting hand atop Four's, incidentally touching the glowing Heart.

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The heart pulses with light under her touch, the glow expanding from a tiny spark to fill the gem which houses it.

She feels a strong sense of healing, nourishment, the desire to feed someone and watch them grow and recover, emanating from the captive soul beneath her fingers. 

This heart, it tells her, wants to create food that will nourish and heal those who eat it. If she just does this unique mental action...

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...much as she would love to, it's not hers to let free. 

"I can feel something there... the desire to heal and feed people? To create healing food? And I feel how it would do that, maybe..." 

She looks at Four. "Do you mind if I try it?"

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"You can feel that?" she exclaims. 

"Perhaps there really is nothing special about me, then..." 

She frowns at Audrey's question.

"Well, you can't exactly do any damage with goodberries, I suppose. It only works once a day, so I won't be able to make more until the morning, but if you give most of them to me then it doesn't matter when they were made; they stay good for longer than a day." Four hesitates.

"...go ahead," she whispers, thrusting the heart in Audrey's direction and squeezing her eyes shut, but still holding onto it as tightly as ever.

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She simply... lets that feeling unfold itself into the world.

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And ten delicious-looking red berries appear, pooling around the heart in Four's hands and heaped atop it. 

The light within the heart dims, returning to a tiny spark that is only barely discernible. 

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"Congratulations," the Four of Hearts remarks. "You have just performed magic." 

She shakes her head. "I hope I will not get into trouble for this. But now you know: this is what the hearts do, and this is how we use them."

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Audrey smiles, and hands Four the berries, keeping none for herself. 

"I think you're wrong, Four. You do have something exceptional: your heart. You've granted one of my fondest wishes today: now I know I could maybe become a Heart myself! Even though Marcella might give you trouble for it, even though you're afraid of what might happen, you helped me nonetheless. You're out here on the borderlands protecting the kingdom, far away from anyone or anything, even though you're one of Marcella's favoured: that, too, speaks to your sense of duty and love for Wonderland. Even if you can't see it in yourself, I can." 

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"My heart?"

She laughs bitterly; it sounds almost like a sob.

"My heart," she says in a strange tone, "is a jewel in the queen's crown. It's quite pretty, but I suppose I'm rather biased."

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Audrey pauses. 

"... would you rather it was not so?"

 

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"I...I am a loyal servant of the Queen," Four insists.

She looks around. "I have tarried here too long; I must return to my duties."

Shouldering her bow, she makes to leave. 

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"Four." 

Audrey speaks softly, but her words carry in the stillness. 

"I don't think you've lost your heart, not in the way that counts."

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"I - thank you." She jerks her head in a brief nod.

"I should go. Goodbye and godspeed, Audrey."

The Four of Hearts steps into the shadow of a tree and vanishes into the undergrowth. 

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"Well," Everless comments, once she is safely out of earshot.

"That went better than I anticipated. Did you discover anything particularly interesting when you touched the heart?"

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She hums. 

"Mostly it confirmed my guesses, but I suppose what's obvious to me might not be to you. Best not to explain it while standing in the middle of nowhere, though."

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"An excellent point," she agrees.

"We should make our way back to Hatter, and continue our discussion in his house."

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The Jabberwock peeps out from under Audrey's hair.

"House?" it asks. "Hatter?" 

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"Hatter's house! And then I can explain things to you too, Jabberwock. ...assuming you were trying to warn us about Four?"

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"Warn..." it repeats. 

"Hat-ter house?" Its feathers fluff up, tickling Audrey's neck. 

"Jabberwock in Hattersss house?" it asks tentatively.

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Audrey nods. 

"Assuming Hatter doesn't mind."

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"He will most likely object at first," Everless predicts, "but you should be able to bring him around."

She leans over to look at the Jabberwock. 

"After all, it is not as though it can cause much trouble in its present form."

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"Do you mind coming with us, Jabberwock?"

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The Jabberwock shakes its head.

"Come with," it states, with a hint of defiance. 

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Audrey smiles. 

"Alright then! Home again home again," she chirps.

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They retrace their steps back up the path, through the blue-green trees. 

However, as the leaves shade back to a brighter green, the route resembles less and less the one by which they came. 

They arrive at a crossroads, with three new paths leading away in different directions. There is no obvious difference between any of the paths.

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Audrey pauses, and looks back and forth between the three new forks. 

"... yes, I hear you. I don't like it, though. Are you sure?"

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"They say it's the first sign of madness, talking to things that can't speak," says a voice from somewhere above her.

A large ginger cat is lying along the branch of a tree, watching them. 

It blinks at her with large green eyes. 

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"Hello, Chess," says Everless.

"Audrey, meet the Cheshire Cat. Chess, this is Audrey Ingram." 

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Audrey frowns. 

"... Chess. Your name is literally Chess. And you're a cat." 

 

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Another voice comes from the underbrush by Audrey's feet.

"Of what significance is it that they are a cat? I, too, am a cat. What would you assume of me, miss Audrey Ingram?"

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Audrey blinks, then curtsies. 

"My apologies, I've been terribly rude." 

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"Well, I was rude to you, first," says the Cheshire Cat.

"So it's only polite, if you think about it."

He peers down at the other cat.

"And who might you be?"

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"Merely another cat, apparently."

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"Well, if one has to be something, a cat is not a bad sort of thing to be, is it?" he replies.

"I'm quite fond of this shape, myself."

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"Rather better than human, I would agree."

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"I'm not sure I can remember ever being a human..." he ponders, stretching thoughtfully.

"Do you like it?" he asks Audrey.

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Audrey shrugs. "I'm not sure I really count."

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"Well, you are the only one of us here who is human-shaped," he says, "so you must like it at least a little."

Stepping casually off his branch, he lands in the exact centre of the crossroads and looks at Audrey.

"Which way are you going?" he inquires.

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"Hatter's house, at the moment. Would you be so kind as to direct me?"

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"Oh, so now you're treating the cat as a living signpost."

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Everless shuffles a little on her perch to peer down at the black cat, who has still not introduced herself.

"Personally," she murmurs to Audrey, "I would rather be a living signpost than a sourpuss."

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The cat doesn't dignify the remark with a reply. Perhaps it simply didn't hear.

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"Hmm," says the other cat.

"Well, the Hatter is that way," he tells Audrey, motioning with his tail down the left-hand path, "but I can't say whether he's at home. Whereas, if you go down this path," he continues, taking a couple of steps down the right-hand fork, "you'll find the King and Queen of Diamonds."

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Without saying another word, the black cat saunters off down the right-hand fork. 

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The Jabberwock hides back under Audrey's hair when the King and Queen of Diamonds are mentioned.

"No diamonds no diamonds no diamonds," it whispers in her ear.

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"I think I'll go see Hatter right now. Thank you for the directions, Chess."

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"In that case, I may see you later," he says, making to go down the middle fork. 

"Then again, I might not..." 

He walks away down the path, beginning to fade into invisibility as he does so.

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Audrey watches the cat until there is no more cat to watch. 

"... why do I feel like I just missed something important?"

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"I have no idea," Everless says.

"I suggest that we begin moving before the paths shift again, while we still know our direction."

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Audrey nods, and starts making her way along the left-hand path.

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The path obliges her by remaining a path through green, spring-like woods filled with dense undergrowth.

The forest is very quiet, and the crunch of Audrey's footsteps almost echoes in the silence, which is otherwise broken only by the occasional distant trill of birdsong. 

The Jabberwock emerges from its hiding place and hesitantly joins in with a few chirps of its own.

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Audrey smiles. 

"You're cute, Jabberwock." 

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Encouraged, it sings louder.

The song is a joyful one, and, though wordless, manages to convey a sense of delight mingled with hope and enthusiasm. 

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Audrey listens as she walks, and hums along quietly.

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They sing together for a while, Jabberwock experimenting with harmonies. 

As they round a bend in the path, it stops, freezing in place on Audrey's shoulder and staring down the path. 

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There, revealed from behind the trees which formerly screened it from view, is Hatter's house, which Audrey may not have had a good look at when she left it. 

The house is tall, three stories at least, and topped with a large roof in the shape of a hat.

The windows are stuffed to bursting with hats and price tags and advertisements, and a sign above the porch announces 'Hatter Dodgson's Millinery'

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Audrey smiles, and looks at Everless. "Would you go ask Hatter if he'd come out to talk to Jabberwock?"

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"I will ask," Everless says. "But I will not be surprised if the answer is no. My persuasive abilities are nothing to brag about at the best of times."

She flies off around the house, looking for an open window or one which Hatter can open for her. 

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Audrey settles in on the stoop to wait. 

"It's alright, Jabberwock. Don't be disappointed if he doesn't come: these things take time."

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Everless finds Hatter in his room, and taps on the glass until he lets her in. 

"Audrey is confirmed as the missing Queen," is the first thing she tells him, after landing on his shoulder.

She fills him in on their encounters with the Jabberwock and the Four of Hearts on their way downstairs, ending with Audrey's request that Jabberwock be allowed into Hatter's house.

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He hesitates for a long time, leaning against the front door, considering whether to open it and what he will say.

The Jabberwock has been known for years as a vicious monster, impossible to reason with, which kills without provocation or need. And yet, as Everless says, how much damage can a small bird possibly do? 

He hides the blackberries in a sealed container. Then he opens the door.

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Audrey half-turns, and smiles. 

"Hi, Hatter! I was a little afraid you wouldn't come. Hatter, Jabberwock. Jabberwock, Hatter." She gestures to the bird on her shoulder.

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Jabberwock chirps, "Hello!" and attempts something like a bow.

"Alright, that's kind of cute," Hatter admits.

He steps aside and holds the door open.

"You might as well come in."

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Audrey can't surpress her smile as she steps up to the door - then she pauses.

"Say, Jabberwock. Have you ever been in a house before?"

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"No," it says quietly, pressing closer against her neck. 

"Not ever been in a house." 

It seems to be getting steadily better at talking, although it's still leaning on repetition. 

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Audrey restrains her urge to pet the bird. "New things can be scary. Is this new thing scary or not?"

She looks over at Hatter. "Jabberwock is used to being treated as a monster, which means people trying to trap you or hurt you or worse. I think they've had enough fear in their life, don't you?"

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Jabberwock settles down on Audrey's shoulder, just a little.

"House...not scary," they say eventually, not sounding very certain. 

"Audrey here, not scary. Audrey is kind." 

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"Audrey is kind even to someth - someone that's killed people."

Hatter still looks dubious about Jabberwock, but is secretly rather charmed by the little bird and its childlike speech. 

"If you do get scared while you're in my house, I'll leave a window open so you can get out," he says. "Or you look small enough to get up the chimney."

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Audrey steps inside, and looks at Hatter seriously. 

"There are old, old ideas about this sort of thing. An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. The thing in us that can love the evil is at once our worst side and our best. We make peace with our enemies, not our friends." 

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She sighs, and shrugs. 

"I don't know what will convince you. Words are just words, no matter how old they are. The things that endure aren't always the things we would like to. To me it's so obvious, the pattern is clear and wrong and needs to be fixed. Pain spreads and blossoms and births more pain. Fire consumes with no hearth to hold it. The way is wrong and needs tending because all is out of true and I need so badly for people to see but the pattern is around them too..." 

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She takes a deep breath. 

"What I mean to say is... Jabberwock. Does hurting people ever help?" 

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Jabberwock looks at Audrey, and Hatter, and back to Audrey.

"...No?"

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Hatter meets Audrey's gaze, just as solemn as she.

"Wise words, my lady, and well spoken," he says when she is done.

"You will make a great queen - or at least a far better one than Marcella."

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"I suppose it can be argued that getting one's own way is an important skill for a queen," Audrey deadpans. 

 

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"In any case, we have important things to discuss. First of which is with regard to the Jabberwock." 

She looks at the tiny bird on her shoulder. "You were scared to death of Four. I take it you don't like Marcella much?"

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Shiver. Feathers poofing out until the little jay looks about twice the size. 

"Small now. Scary."

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Audrey nods. "Would you like Marcella to stop being so awful?"

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Slow blink.

"...yes?" 

Said in a tone which suggests that the answer should be obvious.

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"And you're clearly willing to take risks towards that goal, given that you came to warn me about Four." 

She looks at Hatter and Everless. "You heard the bird. Anyone opposed to letting them join us?"

 

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Everless shakes her head.

"Not as such," Hatter says, "but it isn't our call to make. I've sent messages to the King and Queen of Diamonds, and one or both of them should be here soon."

He glances out of the window to see whether they are here yet; no luck. 

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Audrey nods. "True, true. I'd rather not have to repeat everything I have to say for them either. In the meantime, maybe everyone could get to know Jabberwock a little better?"

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Everless takes this opportunity to begin peppering Jabberwock with questions. 

"How old are you? Do you have a name other than Jabberwock? Where did you come from? Have you always been that shape until today? Why did you kill people? Are you going to do it again?"

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"Don't know. Don't remember." 

This seems to be a common theme in the answers, with one exception.

"Never meant to kill, only scare. People trying to hurt me. People not hurt me, I not hurt them."

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"Do you remember the people you hurt?"

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This question requires some thought.

"Some. Not all," is the conclusion.

"Blurry, small, sometimes dark..."

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"Did your previous body have poor eyesight?"

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"Not...bad, just - bad at seeing people," Jabberwock tries to explain.

"I don't have words..." 

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Audrey nods. "You had problems telling people apart?"

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"Yes. Problems telling people apart," Jabberwock repeats.

"Don't know people." 

The little bird is making absolutely no move to get off Audrey's shoulder. 

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"But you came to warn me about Four anyway, even though you had no idea who I was?"

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"Audrey is different," is the reply after a few moments of thought.

"Did different things, tried to talk not hurt."

Jabberwock seems to be struggling to articulate a better response. 

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"How did you know that before I talked to you, though?"

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"I...didn't?" Jabberwock admits.

"I was trying to scare you away so you wouldn't hurt me, not so Four wouldn't hurt you."

That's the longest sentence so far. 

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Audrey smiles. 

"Thank you for being honest, Jabberwock." 

She looks at the Hatter. "Do you have any questions?"

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Hatter has been listening quietly while Audrey and Everless talked to Jabberwock. 

"No, I - I think I understand what you meant now. About monsters."

He looks at Jabberwock.

"I apologise," he says slowly, "for seeing you as a monster. You are welcome in my home for as long as you choose to stay, and may leave whenever you wish."

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"Everless, do you have anything more to ask?"

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"Always," she deadpans.

"But in this instance, I am satisfied that Jabberwock is not presently a threat, and may be a considerable asset to the cause."

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Audrey nods. "Let's hope that Hatter's other guests share your opinion."

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As if in answer, there is a loud knocking at the front door.

Hatter goes to answer it, and returns accompanied by a rather large man in a shiny, new-looking top hat. 

"Good afternoon!" he booms, grinning and tipping his hat to Audrey.

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She curtsies. "Good afternoon." 

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He chatters jovially to Hatter and Everless about fashion, the weather, a few tidbits of court gossip...

And then Hatter leads them through into the sitting room, and he suddenly turns serious.

"I hear our queen is returned," he says, bowing to Audrey.

"I am Faramund, King of Diamonds and second-in-command of the Resistance. How may I serve you, my lady?"

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"He says, cheerfully abdicating his authority to a twelve-year-old who has never ruled anything in her life. Forgive me if this doesn't inspire confidence."

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"I was hardly proposing to crown you this instant, and place you in charge of the Resistance," he says, laughing. 

"For one thing, I have a feeling my partner would object," he continues as he lowers himself into the largest armchair.

"But I have a vested interest in seeing you replace Marcella on the throne of Wonderland, and develop the skills to be a better queen than she. I will do what I can to help you achieve that." 

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Audrey nods, and flashes a smile. 

"That I think we can agree on. But before we get to any deeper discussion of strategy, I have another new recruit I'd like you to meet."

She raises one hand to her shoulder, indicating the small bird there. 

"Faramund, Jabberwock. Jabberwock, Faramund."

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Faramund blinks.

"You mean that little bird is the Jabberwock? The Jabberwock, the monster that roams Wonderland's borders and kills people?" he checks.

"Whatever did you feed it?"

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"Compassion and a blackberry. It was clumsy, couldn't tell people apart, and everyone was trying to kill it. Now that it has the chance to, it wants to make amends."

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He looks at the little bird. The bird looks back. 

"Well?" he asks Jabberwock.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

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"I couldn't talk to say, go away," is the explanation.

"Had to scare people off so they wouldn't hurt me."

A sigh.

"Sometimes they got hurt."

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Audrey nods, but doesn't interject.

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"Well," Faramund says eventually, "I am happy to have you on our side - and would rather that than the opposite, I must say."

He holds out one meaty hand, and Jabberwock, after a long moment of hesitation, hops onto it.

"Welcome to the Resistance, Jabberwock," he says formally.

"I don't have the foggiest idea how I'll explain this to Araminta," he continues in a lighter tone, "but that's my problem and not yours."

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"Alright, now that everyone here is in the Resistance, it's time to share information. King Faramund, what do you know about Marcella and her court? Who serves her, and why? Why did she overthrow the Red Queen? How does she steal hearts? What was the Red Queen like? Do you have any idea where her reflection might have gone?"

Audrey pauses. 

"Um, I should probably let you answer some of those before I keep going."

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"Yes, that would be helpful," Faramund says dryly.

"What do I know about Marcella's court...Well, it is remarkably easy to infiltrate, if one is willing to put in years of work, and possibly gain a few stone in weight," he jokes.

"Her inner circle, on the other hand, is much more exclusive and far more stable - the only ones whom she trusts with sensitive information are the Hearts. They are occasionally killed by various misfortunes and a new Two is found, or the internal hierarchy is rearranged, but generally the same people stay in the same positions for years at a time."

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"Marcella has the Hearts' hearts, doesn't she? They... need the other hearts, maybe as replacements. Four seemed a little more whole than the Wandering Seer, but it was all they could do to let me touch one, they were terrified of losing it."

She tilts her head. "Well, that was my interpretation at least. They might have been terrified by something else relating to the idea."

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He nods, chins wobbling.

"I have noticed, now that you mention it, that the higher-ranking Hearts seem more...personable. Less like puppets whose strings Marcella is constantly pulling, and more like, well, people. The effect is lesser once one gets to, say, the Eight, who seems to have no less of a personality than the Ten."

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"... When I touched the heart Four offered me, I had the very distinct impression that it had a desire to create healing food - it was clearly the heart of someone who put their passion into helping people through their cooking. If a heart is - the thing that motivates people, that makes them want to interact with the world - then no wonder the low ranking Hearts are terrified to lose the ones Marcella has given them. And..." 

Audrey frowns. "... Maybe Marcella is organizing the Hearts in such a way that the ones with high rank are composed of desires she likes. How many hearts does she have? Do we know? It must be quite a few, at least ninety-one."

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"Ninety-one?" Everless cuts in before Faramund can respond.

"How did you arrive at that figure?" 

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"One for the Ace, two for the Two, summed up to ten for the Ten, then eleven hearts for the Jack, twelve for the Queen, and thirteen for the King. If Marcella has given less or more hearts than that to anyone in that list, she's broken from the underlying pattern and we can likely exploit it somehow."

Audrey smiles. "I suspect she carries more hearts than that, or her King carries less."

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"It might interest you to know," Faramund says, "that the Queen is never seen in court wearing fewer than thirteen hearts."

He rattles off the list: four around her neck, two attached to her sleeves, three at her belt, three more on her skirt, and a thirteenth in her crown. 

"One wonders how she moves for the weight of them."

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"She's claiming the power of a King despite being a Queen, then. Which means that she's breaking the rules of her own game, as cheaters do everywhere." 

Audrey hums. "And that description of her is making me wonder something. Let's go back to the number of hearts - do we know how many people have lost theirs?"

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Everless takes this one. 

"Every member of the Hearts, which makes ten. The Red King and the Wandering Seer make twelve. The rest of the Red King's advisers add another five, and his senior generals account for eight, bringing the total to twenty-five. The Hearts have had considerable turnover in the past decade, and the Ace is the only one who has remained from the initial ten, so there is another - nine at least, although the total is likely higher."

She pauses to think. "Heartlessness is offered as an alternative to the death penalty for criminals. In the past decade, twenty have been offered this choice and nine have accepted; they became servants under the oversight of the Nine of Hearts. Oh, and the rest of the Hearts' underlings are also required to relinquish their hearts."

After a long pause, she comes up with a number: "One hundred and forty-two, at a minimum, although several of those people are now dead, and I do not know whether or not this renders the hearts useless."

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"In that case, given that Marcella is apparently unable to trust anyone with more hearts than herself, she must have some stash somewhere. Fifty-one hearts is far too many for her to carry on her person."

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"I agree that there must be hearts stored somewhere in the palace or its grounds," Everless says.

"But how did you reach the number fifty-one? The Hearts carry fifty-five between them, leaving a remainder of eighty-seven. Even if one assumes that the hearts of the dead no longer function, that only accounts for ten or eleven, and I have not yet told you the precise number for those, so you cannot have included it in your calculations."

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"Marcella carries thirteen openly, so we know where they are. Assuming Jack has eleven and Rodion twelve, that still leaves fifty-one left over, either carried in secret or otherwise hidden."

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"Ah, I see. I was assuming that you included those thirteen in your count, as those are also carried on her person."

Everless nods. 

"It is not always wise to assume, especially when it comes to the distribution of magical power, but I do not think there is any harm in assuming the King and Prince to carry such power, when at worst we will discover that they do not, and are therefore less dangerous," she muses.

"There is not an important difference between fifty-one hearts in a hoard and seventy-four: either way, this is a large collection. The greatest difficulty is that we have no idea where to look for them, and Wonderland is too large to make a systematic search practical."

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"... okay, next question. What is Marcella actually like, personally?"

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"She is...I don't know how to say this any other way than 'Queenly'," Faramund says. "Perfectly, unfailingly so; it is a flawless act."

He scratches his stomach while he thinks.

"But she's ruthless, too, and a touch paranoid. She doesn't trust anyone who still has their heart, not really."

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"That's an interesting choice of words, there. You think she's concealing her true personality?"

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"I do not doubt it."

He casts about for examples, waving one pudgy hand in the air while he thinks.

"She behaves differently depending on who is watching: she can be one way in the law-court, when there are ordinary citizens to intimidate, another with her courtiers, and still another with her Hearts when she thinks no-one else can see." 

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"... does she change between outfits depending on what role she's playing?"

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Faramund takes a moment to answer, thinking back over the last few years to determine any possible pattern.

"I have not noticed a pattern to which outfits she wears in which contexts, and I think it unlikely," he concludes.

"Particularly as she often moves from one to another quite seamlessly within the course of a single day. She will take one of the Hearts aside into a private room, for instance, and then emerge and return to presiding over the court."

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Audrey nods thoughtfully.

"We should consider the possibility that something happened to Marcella's heart as well, even if she doesn't change which hearts she holds over the course of the day. She has a previously unknown magic based on stealing hearts, she seems to be continually acting, and she's never seen without at least thirteen hearts on her person. It's all circumstantial, but..."

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Faramund looks troubled, struck by a possibility which has never before occurred to him.

Everless points out, "If all the stolen hearts did was substitute for a lost one, they would be far less dangerous, and the Resistance would have succeeded by now. They also convey great magical power, through some unknown mechanism, and this alone could be enough reason for a paranoid queen - who has been the target of two failed assassinations - to go around armed at all times with more than any other single person bears."

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"I agree, we don't have enough information to be certain. It's possible that Marcella is independently a social chameleon and in fear for her life and the only practicitioner of a type of unknown magic that steals heartfelt desires from people. Maybe I'm looking too hard for a way for everyone to be innocent in this. But I don't think we should discount the possibility that Marcella's a victim of her own magic - or whoever or whatever she got it from."

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Everless nods.

"When you put it like that, it does appear to be a rather unfeasible number of coincidences," she agrees.

"Even if Marcella is Heartless, though, it does not necessarily follow that she is innocent. She may have given up her heart willingly if, as your theory suggests, it is related to her acquisition of the power to take the hearts of others."

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Audrey sighs. 

"Desperate people..." 

She shakes her head. 

"Marcella has a lot to answer for, I agree. But I'm starting to wonder... What drove her to it? Why try to assassinate Sophia and Lionel? Did she just want power for power's sake, was that all there was to it?"

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"That, unfortunately, is a question I cannot answer," Everless says. 

She looks at Faramund, who shakes his head, clearly equally at a loss.

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"Maybe..." Jabberwock starts, then falls silent.

Something about the unfinished thought seems to be deeply unsettling to the small bird, who shivers and hops closer to Audrey.

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Audrey brushes some of her hair out of the way to give Jabberwock their perch back if they want it. 

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This appears to be the case; Audrey now has a bird on her shoulder again.

This seems to be enough of a confidence boost that Jabberwock can finish the thought: "I...hurt people be-cause, because I was scared. Maybe she is, was, the same?" 

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"Maybe so. Maybe not. We don't know enough to be sure."

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"Well," Faramund puts in.

"I may not know as much as you would like, but I do know one thing."

He pauses for effect.

"It is time," he enunciates, "to eat."

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Audrey smiles.

"If Hatter would be so kind as to host us, I'd love to."

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Right on cue, Hatter pokes his head into the room from the kitchen. 

"I needn't have bothered setting a timer," he jokes. "Not with His Majesty's finely-tuned nose around."

With an elaborate bow, he confirms, "Dinner is served."

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Audrey turns towards the kitchen. "Well then, let's eat!"

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And so they do. Hatter has even set out a plate of specially-prepared food for Jabberwock, as the jaybird is too small to trivially eat the same things as the rest of them, the way Everless does.

Throughout the meal, Hatter seems distant, lost in private thought. He remains a perfectly gracious and accommodating host, but seems to do so with only half of his mind. Fortunately, no accidents result from his distraction. 

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Audrey also mostly focuses on food. Food is good, it's important that she eat food.

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The Jabberwock eats rather messily, being unaccustomed to eating in this shape. However, like Audrey, they seem far more concerned with the food than with the consequences, not pausing to tidy up the crumbs until the plate is almost empty. 

All of the food is devoured, leaving Jabberwock with a noticeably distended stomach. They chirp happily. 

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Audrey smiles. "Proper food's a lot better, isn't it? I don't know what you were surviving on before, but I doubt it was anything very complex."

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Happy chirping that sounds vaguely agreement-y. Snuggling down in a poof of feathers to - sleep?

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... Jabberwock did get the lecture about taking pairs of bites, right, should she be worrying?

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Jabberwock, being a native Wonderlander, is presumably aware of the properties of Wonderland food. 

No-one else looks worried. In fact, Hatter is now openly smiling at the little bird, looking rather charmed. 

"That's kind of cute," he whispers so as not to wake Jabberwock. 

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Audrey nods, and smiles at the little fluffball.

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Moving carefully so as not to wake the sleeping bird, Hatter clears away the dishes, with some help from Everless.

Faramund rises ponderously from his seat and heads back through to the sitting room, also moving with surprising stealth for someone of his size. 

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Audrey takes a notepad out of her dress, and writes a little note for Jabberwock: "You fell asleep and were too cute to disturb, if I'm not here when you wake up talk to Hatter, but I'll try very hard to be here."

Then she sneaks out of the room as well. 

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Jabberwock sleeps on.

"Are you sure it can read?" Everless whispers as she lands on the back of a chair next to Audrey. 

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Audrey shakes her head, and looks around at the various foodstuffs. Picking out one or two things that won't spoil, she leaves them next to the note. 

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They go through to the sitting-room, where Faramund has reclaimed his armchair. Everless perches on the back of Hatter's chair, in a spot that looks well-worn and is covered in claw-marks from her talons. 

"Do you have any more questions that we might answer, before we begin planning in earnest?" she asks. 

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Audrey shrugs. "One or two. In your honest opinion, what was the Red Queen like?"

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"I never knew her personally," Everless cautions. "Hatter did - although I think you knew Lionel better?" she says in his general direction.  

"Regardless, my impression of Queen Sophia, when I saw her during public appearances, was of someone to whom ruling came naturally. She seemed..."

The raven trails off.

"I am no great judge of character," she says after a moment, "but the impression with which I came away was that a world in which Sophia was anything but a queen was unthinkable." 

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Audrey frowns slightly. "How so? What about her made her queenly?"

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"She...commanded attention," Everless explains haltingly. 

"And loyalty. She barely had to speak to have everyone around her jumping to obey."

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Hatter offers his own perspective.

"Sophia was always aware of her duty to her people, and so she always had to be the queen they deserved. She commanded loyalty because she was loyal first."

He smiles at the memory, but it seems to be bittersweet. 

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"She sounds like the kind of person I would like, if only I could meet her..."

Audrey sighs. "If she was so wonderful, though, why did Marcella want to take over?"

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"Paranoia?" Faramund suggests. "Or perhaps jealousy?" 

He elaborates, "It would not surprise me to learn that she simply could not bear to have another wield power over her."

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"You'd think that, but I'm fairly sure there are less strenuous and dangerous ways of not having anyone wield power over you than taking over an entire kingdom." 

Audrey sighs. "I realize this is awkward, but... the former Queen was a person, and people have flaws. What were hers?"

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Hatter seems to be the expert on the topic of Sophia. "She valued justice over mercy, sometimes to the point of appearing harsh," he begins.

"She believed, very strongly, in the good of the many outweighing the good of the individual - not necessarily a bad thing," he clarifies, "but it was sometimes seen as such by those who found themselves in the latter category."

His voice is crisp and harsh, trying for disinterested professionalism but not quite managing. 

"For someone with such a high regard for the system and the chain of command, she was remarkably unwilling to delegate, and preferred to personally oversee as much as possible. She would sit in the court hearing cases and laying down judgements, or ride out to inspect the border, while Lionel - "

He stops and swallows, then continues, "Lionel tried to convince her that these were tasks for their ministers."

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"... She hadn't learned..." 

Audrey shakes her head and smiles slightly to herself, like someone who's fallen for the same prank twice.

"It's hard to put this into humanwords, but... she was... too invested. Too caught up in everything being her personal responsibility. Cared too much, thought of things as hers..." 

She looks up. "Do I have the shape of it?"

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"...Yes, that is a fair description." 

He looks a little astonished.

"I can believe you're the same person," he says. "There's no other way you could sum up Sophia so well without meeting her." 

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Audrey looks down into her lap, and sighs.

"I guess there are some lessons that come harder to queens."

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Hatter opens his mouth to reply.

Just then, a loud clatter comes from the direction of the kitchen, along with a flurry of panicked cheeping. 

"...Oh dear."

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Audrey hurries in the direction of the panicked cheeps. 

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There is a tiny bird zipping around the room, yelling and crashing into things!

One of the things happens to be Audrey's face, as soon as she steps through the door. 

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She eeps and does her best to duck! 

This does not, in fact, prevent her from getting a bird in the face. 

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"...eep." 

Jabberwock stops flapping around and plops to the floor.

"Sorry." 

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Audrey rubs her forehead and winces. Fortunately she doesn't seem to have been caught by Jabberwock's talons.

"Ow." 

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The tiny bird seems to get even smaller, curling up in a little feathery ball of remorse at her feet.

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Audrey gets down on her hands and knees, and gently pats the ball of bird. 

"Don't worry, it's okay..."

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Fluttery shiver. Tiny sad noise. 

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Hatter comes up behind Audrey, but stops a safe distance away.

"What happened?"

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"Jabberwock panicked, probably because they were alone in a strange place, and started flying around wildly trying to escape and flew into me. I'm okay, I'm just not sure if they are." 

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"Ah."

He takes a step back.

"I'll just...give you some space."

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Audrey pets the ball of bird a little more. 

"Would you like to go outside?"

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The ball becomes a little less ball-shaped. A little beak pokes out. 

"Outside? Fly?" asks a tiny, tentative voice.

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Audrey nods seriously. 

"Hatter, could you open a window?"

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"There's one in the sitting-room," he calls back from somewhere else in the house. 

"I left it open on purpose."

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"Jabberwock, is it okay if I pick you up?"

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"...okay?"

They don't sound very sure.

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Audrey sits down on the floor next to Jabberwock, and lays a hand palm-down next to them. 

"Hop on whenever you feel ready."

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Hesitantly, and with a few pauses, the little bird hops forward.

With much fussing and fluttering, they eventually settle themself with both feet curled securely around Audrey's forefinger. 

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Audrey stands carefully, and checks to make sure she didn't jostle Jabberwock too much.

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Jabberwock flaps a little to maintain balance, but seems content enough to stay sat on Audrey's finger. 

They chirp quizzically at her. 

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Audrey carefully carries Jabberwock to the window ledge. 

"If you want to be out in a bigger space, you can go flying, or if you'd prefer to stay with me that's okay too... Whatever would help you feel less scared is okay by me."

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"Flying!"

The little bird takes off through the window, and quickly disappears from sight. Their happy singing can be heard, though. 

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Audrey smiles. 

"Windows are wonderful."

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"I...suppose?" Hatter re-enters the room in time to hear this remark.

"Never really thought about it before. You have a fascinating way of looking at things, Audrey," he says with a smile.

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Audrey hums contemplatively. "I just notice. Humans are very bad at it - you're not so bad, when I explain it you can see somewhat, or at least trust me that I know what I'm talking about - sorry, I shouldn't compare even causally - anyway. Windows are nice because they let you let in the parts of the outside you want." 

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Jabberwock appears in view again, having flown a circle around the house.

Singing at the top of their tiny lungs, they loop past the window and carry on flying.

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Audrey smiles as Jabberwock passes. 

"See? There goes a nice thing right now."

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Hatter leans against the wall next to the window, and watches the little bird flying around his house.

"I'm sure I'll get used to thinking of - it? Them? Anyway, I'm sure I'll get used to thinking of Jabberwock as a good thing eventually. But at the moment it's a very strange thought."

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Audrey tilts her head and hums to herself.

"Fire burns."

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" - sorry, what?"

Hatter wrenches his gaze from the view to glance at Audrey.

"What fire?" he asks, slightly alarmed.

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"Oh! Um, sorry, not literally... well I guess literally? I was just thinking about how..."

She waves a hand vaguely. "Fire is dangerous but also really useful?"

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"It is, at that," Hatter agrees, relaxing. 

He attempts to piece together the train of thought that led them here.

"So, you think Jabberwock will be useful in taking down Marcella? That's easier to buy." 

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"Mmm, more than that. Fire can burn you, but that's if you don't take care of it properly. In the right context it can be a cheery and even joyful thing, can't it?"

She looks out at Jabberwock again. 

"To extend the metaphor... my natural inclination whenever I meet something fiery is to figure out how to use it to make smores."  

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Hatter laughs. 

Jabberwock chooses this moment to come back and perch on the windowsill, still singing cheerily. They look up at Audrey and Hatter. 

"I like flying!" 

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Audrey kisses it atop its little bird head. 

"You're a cute little spark, you know that?"

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Jabberwock blinks, looking at her through one eye and then the other as if she might look different depending on the angle. 

"Cute little spark?" they repeat dubiously. 

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Audrey nods quickly, yes-yes-yes. "You're a very cute spark! Just try not to land on any tinder, ok?"

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Hatter chuckles, and tentatively reaches out to run a finger down the little bird's back. He moves very slowly and gently, ready to pull back at a moment's notice. 

Jabberwock holds very very still until he's done, then cheeps happily and relaxes. 

"...Awww," is Hatter's first response. He rubs his fingers together, remembering the feel of the smooth feathers.

"You're soft," he murmurs, almost to himself. "I wasn't expecting that."

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Audrey just smiles to herself.

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Everless comes through to see what's going on. 

"Perhaps, if the crisis is resolved, we could resume our strategic discussion?" she suggests. 

"Jabberwock...would you like to join us again?"

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Jabberwock flutters over to meet the larger bird, circling her head before landing in front of her.

They think about it, then nod. "Okay." 

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Audrey takes a seat at the table again.

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The others join her. Everless perches on Hatter's shoulder, this time, rather than taking a seat of her own. 

"So," she croaks, "what should be our next move?"

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Audrey looks around the table expectantly.

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"We need more information," Faramund grumbles. 

"Marcella has access to far more of it than we do, thanks to her agents, and the more secrets we can keep from her, the better. We can only hope that she remains ignorant of Audrey's presence for as long as possible." 

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"I do not believe that the Four of Hearts suspected Audrey's true identity," Everless contributes. 

"It is conceivable that she will mention having met an Audrey Ingram, but there is no reason for Marcella to connect that name with the missing Queen."

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Before anyone can reply to that, there is a loud banging at the door. 

"Well. That doesn't sound friendly," Hatter comments, already standing up to go answer it. "Audrey, Jabberwock, it might be best for you to hide," he continues in a hurried whisper. "Everless can show you where."

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Everless launches herself off Hatter's shoulder and heads for the covered mirror in the corner. Grabbing a corner of the heavy cloth, she pulls it aside to reveal enough of the mirror that Audrey can fit through. 

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Hatter heads in the direction of the door, deliberately taking his time and walking into stacks of boxes to make them clatter.

"Coming, coming! Just a minute!" 

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Well then, nothing to do but attempt the mirror.

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There's still no reflected Audrey in the mirror.

She has just enough time to notice what Jabberwock's reflection looks like before familiar silver mist spreads across the surface, turning it soft and opaque. The mirror offers no more resistance than the one she found in the attic, letting her step through as though it's a doorway, Jabberwock fluttering after her. 

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A second raven is waiting for them inside the mirror, while the first tugs the curtain back across to hide them. The Jabberwock-reflection is nowhere to be seen. 

They are standing in a little circle of space that reflects the sitting-room, empty of its inhabitants. Beyond the area that would be reflected in the glass, everything fades away into the same silvery mist, which surrounds them on every side. 

"If we stand close to the glass, we will be able to hear what is said," Everless' reflection says in a hoarse whisper. She sounds exactly the same as her counterpart. 

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“You do realize that if I’m discovered now, it’s almost incontrovertible evidence that I’m important,” Audrey whispers back. “I would have preferred to stay and talk, but with Faramund here...”

She bites the inside of her lip. 

“I’m staying where I won’t be reflected, at least for now. You can listen for me.”

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She does so, hopping up close to the glass and cocking her head to listen. Some sound comes through from the other side, but it's distant as if the muffled strains of conversation and the movement of people are happening a couple of rooms away, not right on the other side of the glass. 

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Ten or fifteen minutes pass. It's hard to tell the time in here, as the clock on the wall doesn't seem to be going at any sort of reasonable speed and even the labels are strange and indecipherable. 

After a while, though, Hatter pulls the curtain aside and pokes his head through. "All clear," he says cheerfully, then continues in a more mocking tone: "The Queen's Guard is satisfied that no unlawful activity is being carried out in my dwelling and/or place of business." 

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Audrey pokes her head out cautiously. “Glad to hear it.”

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Whoever was here is gone, but they've left a few signs of their presence: books and knick-knacks out of place, a few boxes disturbed and their contents scattered.

Everless is at the window, watching them leave. "They are out of sight," she reports as Audrey steps through the mirror. "It seems to have been a regular inspection, but as the Four of Hearts may already be aware of your association with me, we cannot risk them finding you here associating with Hatter and Faramund."

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"None of us is known to be with the Resistance," Hatter adds, "and we don't think Faramund is even suspected, but the more puzzle pieces they have, the more likely they are to put them together." He takes a gulp of tea, looking a little rattled from his encounter with the Queen's Guard.

"You are a particularly unusual piece, and we want Marcella to have as little information about you as possible. If anyone could guess your identity, it's her."

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Audrey nods consideringly. 

"Sorry, I'm - having a thought here. ...what magical powers have the Hearts actually demonstrated?"

 

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"Well, you saw one of Four's abilities earlier today," Everless says. "Most of what she can do seems to be subtle, and we weren't sure she had more than one magical ability until today. The only overt magic she's been witnessed doing before is causing thorns to burst out of the ground and entangle someone, but even then she has to hit them with an arrow first."

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"I still think the trick where she fires three arrows at once has to be magic." This sounds like an argument they've had a lot. 

"Regardless, some of the other Hearts have more obviously magical abilities. The Ten can make lightning shoot out from his spear to strike his opponents, Nine can grow to be nine feet tall and send out shockwaves..." 

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“- I ask because obviously Marcella has kept all the best ones for herself. So... we know she is at least as scary as someone who can throw lightning bolts. Lovely.”

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"Yes, that would appear to be the case," Everless agrees. "We know that Marcella is capable of a few specific magical feats, but if we assume that every Heart grants her a new ability then most of her capabilities are unknown." 

She doesn't sound happy about it. 

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"...Well then, we'd best develop some unknown capabilities of our own." 

She hums to herself, softly. 

"...one wonders why the Heart only shows its power once it's been taken." 

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"Well, in its natural place, a Heart is simply a heart," Faramund says.

"It sustains body and spirit, gives us the capacity to grow and love. It anchors us in the things we care about, gives us attachments to bind us to others...one might say there's a power in that, too." 

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"Yes. Exactly." 

She weaves her fingers together, and looks down at the table. 

"Part of me says that's where your strength to survive has come from, but it's not - it's not everything. The Diamonds balance the Hearts, despite the Hearts' cheating - you've not lost yet as Red did. And I'm tempted to say that's because of the power of our hearts - but if the game were played that way, you'd have won it by now." 

She rolls her hands back and forth, humming gently. 

"- oh, I see." 

She looks up at Faramund. 

"I think that - I'm the problem. There's something that I did, or rather, that Queen Sophia did, that means we're the Diamonds and not the Hearts. We're not the clubs or the spades, even -" 

She pauses. 

"- green, growing things - the Spades are our second suit. We should rightfully be Hearts and Spades, one Red one Black. Or maybe Hearts and Diamonds, which would make us wholly Red, but that can't hold because - "

She blinks. 

"Marcella holds both black suits. The two sides were - Red and White? Yes, red and white. So Red is split because of that, we're fighting for control of the Red Kingdom, but the Spades and the Clubs are Black, they're their own side. One that Marcella currently controls in entire... Except that she most likely thinks of them as beneath notice...?" 

She frowns. "Red versus black is not a game I would like to play, though. There ought to be a better way. So - Spades and Diamonds. The earth and the things of it - or, in Tarot, air and earth, the land and sky, opposing fire and water - the elements of malleability and change -"

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"- The magic is on our side. Diamonds, coins, pentacles. We need to look for a green, growing place where the - " 

She winces. 

"- where loving hearts are buried in the cold ground."

Damn it, I just short-circuited the plot didn't I.

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- but. 

That means, then - 

There's something she has to do. To balance this, to make it proper. 

She takes a deep breath, and begins to recite. 

"I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the cold ground.
So it is, and so will it be, time out of mind:
Crowned with lilies and laurel they go: but I am not resigned. 

D- no. 

Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you. 
Be one with the dull, indiscriminate dust. 
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew, 
A formula, a phrase remains - but the best is lost. 

The answers quick and keen, the laughter, the love - 
they are gone
to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
is the blossom.
Fragrant is the blossom.
I know. But I do not approve. 

M-  

She coughs, and brushes away tears from her eyes - then breathes in. The next line comes out all in a rush:

More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world! 

She breathes, once, slowly, in and out.

Down, down, down, to the darkness of the grave, 
Gently they go: the lovely, the careful, the kind.
Quietly they go: the tender, the witty, the brave. 
I know. But I do not approve.

And I
am not
resigned. 

She blinks back tears, forces a smile. "Edna St. Vincent Milay. Dirge Without Music. I - I probably got it wrong, it sounds different in my head -"

She takes a breath, and holds up a hand. "Yes, I know I'm being ridiculous but this matters, at least to me. So - one more poem. 

I promise this one's shorter." 

She squares her shoulders, and recites from memory - 

Madeline, are you grieving
over Goldengrove unleaving? 
Leaves, like the things of man, you
with your fresh thoughts care for, can you?

"...and then there's a bit I don't remember, and then a closing couplet - "

The fall is what we're born for:
'tis Madeline you mourn for. 

She sighs. "- not properly a poem, that way, but - that was, um, Spring and Fall, or a piece of it, by - ... someone." [1]

... She props her glasses up on her forehead, and rubs her eyes to clear them of tears. 

"- I'm sorry, um - Dirge Without Music always hits me really, really hard. It - I have a list of, like, six poems that absolutely - that always punch me in the gut every single time I read them. Dirge Without Music is the reason I have that list." 

She smiles, just a little, and sniffles a bit. 

"So, um! War council. I - am probably not sounding anywhere near rational but I have really good reason to believe Marcella has her stockpile of hearts buried in a garden somewhere. Probably a rose garden - did I say lilies in the later verse? I think I might have said lilies in the later verse, my mistake, it's roses both times in the original poem..." 

She rubs her forehead with her fingertips, and sighs. "- sorry that's completely irrelevant my emotions are just still getting the better of me. Please ask me some actual questions so I can focus on - explaining what just happened, there." 

[1] Gerard Manley Hopkins.

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There have been tears on Hatter's face since about halfway through the first poem. He either hasn't noticed or doesn't care enough to wipe them away. 

He says nothing for a minute, lost in his own thoughts. 

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Faramund, too, is quiet for a moment after Audrey finishes speaking. 

"...there are roses," he says. "In the Queen's gardens. She will allow only red ones, where there used to be both red and white as a sign of the peace between the two nations." He sighs, contemplating memories of his own. 

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"... we should probably look there, then."

She takes another heavy breath. 

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"It's worth a look," Everless agrees, "but I doubt we'll find any Hearts in the palace gardens. They are guarded, but not well enough for such a valuable resource. I'd expect Marcella to have hidden her Hearts inside a mirror somewhere, most likely in the palace itself. A series of mirrors, even." 

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"... but even such a series of mirrors would have to have an entrance somewhere, yes?"

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Everless shuffles her feathers. "It's theoretically possible to cut off a mirror dimension without destroying it, but I doubt Marcella would want to put it beyond her own reach. So, yes, there will be an entrance somewhere." 

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"Well, it's a lead at least..."

She pauses. 

"- how are the palace gardens guarded?"

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"They're patrolled by the Clubs—the Queen's Guard—like the rest of the palace, but with less regularity," Faramund says. "Technically the whole lot is under the authority of the Ten of Hearts, on Marcella's behalf. And then there's the maze, of course," he adds as an afterthought.

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"And then there's the maze?", she echoes.

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"... and as for the Clubs, do they still have their hearts?" 

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"They do, as do the Spades. Aside from the Ace through Ten, Heartlessness is reserved as a punishment for criminals and traitors," Faramund explains.

"The maze surrounds the palace grounds. It's a hedge maze with paths that constantly move, controlled by the Eight of Hearts and patrolled by plant-creatures under his command. Short of burning it down or flying over the top, there's no way through without his cooperation." 

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Audrey hums softly to herself. 

"... Are the Spades and Clubs numbered as well? And - you're serving in the palace, yes? Does that make you a Spade?"

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 "Oh, no." Faramund chuckles. He does so with his whole body, making his belly wobble. "The Spades are domestic servants. Gardeners, maids, and the like. I am a courtier, which in practice means I am more like a guest at the palace, whose opinion is occasionally taken into consideration." There's a certain amount of self-deprecating humour in that last sentence. 

"The Spades and Clubs are numbered, but in such a way that there is more than one of each. It's difficult to say exactly how many." 

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Audrey nods. "Seems sensible. She doesn't have to maintain a stranglehold over anything but hearts..." 

Then she sighs. 

"- enough with the speculation for now, I think. What would you recommend as our plan going forward? I don't want to be - blinded by the mystical side of this."

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Faramund sits back in his chair to think about it.

"As the only one here with a legitimate reason to be in the palace, it might be best if I were to conduct the search for this supposed hidden mirror, while you pursue other avenues." 

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"...we could get her a legitimate reason to be in the palace," Hatter says. He's hiding the beginnings of a smile behind his hand. 

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"I think that would be best. I - I hesitate to say this, because of course you've been fighting a war for, a decade or more, I'm probably teaching my grandmother to suck eggs - but you're a courtier. You could have been a Spade or a Club, if you'd chosen to, but that would be common of you. You'd risk - losing rank. You still have to be a king, even in exile, if you're to balance Rodion - but that means the same problem Sophia had is still there for you, is still keeping you from playing as well as you could."

She frowns. 

"...so the reason Marcella hasn't won is because her Ace is unwillingly bound, and therefore is of low rank. She could destroy you, but it would require her to be of lower rank than Lionel." 

... she rubs the back of her thumbnail across her lips. 

"... damn it," she says. "I'm the Ace of Diamonds. I'm both higher than a king and lower than a two, and I form a pair with the Ace of Hearts. Quite literally - he's my godsdamned brother, of course we're of equal rank."

She frowns. "So then we have - ace, king, queen, knave, ten - If Marcella is still treating her Ace as low, we could win a showdown. It would be possible. But - terribly risky, so long as Marcella has extra Hearts up her sleeve. She'd have to cheat to win, but that doesn't mean she wouldn't."

She looks up at Faramund again. "- So yes, I think it'd be best if I were to get a placement in the palace, ideally with the Spades. You need to be able to watch your opponent's moves if you're going to catch them cheating."

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"The Resistance doesn't have numbered ranks like the Hearts," Everless says. "Which of us are you counting as the counterpart to Ten?" 

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"Well, Hatter seems likely to be the Knave, given his somewhat more disreputable nature: but you're no minor piece either, given that you would have been a Rook in the chess game. So I expect you'd be the Ten. I could have you two backwards, but I think it's near certain one of you is the Knave and one of you is the Ten."

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Everless stands a little bit taller and dips her head to preen herself.

"You haven't met any other Resistance members yet," she points out. "What makes you so certain that we're the two most important after Faramund and Araminta?" 

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"You personally know King Faramund, and were able to get him on short notice. You also personally knew the Sage before he went mad. You're a raven, and ravens are often known as Rooks, and a Rook in chess is second only to the king and queen. Even if the world has shifted tremendously, you would never be a minor piece - Faramund is still a King, as Sophia would still have been a Queen. The Sage, then, would be a Bishop, and as for Hatter..." 

She looks over at him.

"Hatter is, well, the Hatter. Has there ever... not been a Hatter?" 

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"I inherited the business from my father, and he from his, and so on. I'm not sure how far back it goes, but this house is more than a hundred years old." 

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"Well, there you go then. And - let me see, were you ever in service to Queen Sophia?" 

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"...yes, technically, I suppose. I worked for her brother the King." 

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"I'd suspect you for a Knight, then."

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"I suppose you could say that, yes. Is that important?" 

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"- It's interesting, because my intuition is that Everless is lower rank than you now, when you'd have been lower rank than them before. I think that's because you can be a Knave, while they're a bit -" 

She pauses. 

"...I am not going to say the thing I just realized, because it's both rude and off-topic. And no it doesn't have to do with ranks, just - names around here are tricksome things." She coughs. " - what was I saying - Everless is too reasonable to be a Knave, whereas you are a classical Mad Hatter. So the new system may have swapped your relative importances - or it may not. Can you tell me honestly which of you seems to be directing the other more often?" 

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"Probably Hatter, if either of us," Everless admits. She opens and closes her beak a few times like she's debating whether to ask a question. 

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Hatter nods agreement and reaches out to smooth down the feathers on her head. 

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Audrey hums to herself. 

"...honestly, given the amount to which the current Wonderland is themed around poker and chess, perhaps I should take the time to explain the two games in detail."

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A certain little bird, who has been dozing on the windowsill for the last while, perks up at the word 'games' and comes to see what they're talking about. 

"Games?" 

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...sure, okay, that's cute. Everless hops over to say hello.

"Yes, that does sound like a good idea." 

She starts cautiously preening the Jabberwock's feathers, tilting her head to listen to Audrey while she does so.

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(This is...fine? Slightly confused quiet cheeping.)

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She looks over at Hatter. "- do you have a pencil and some paper? And maybe some scissors to cut it? I can't improvise chess-pieces very well, but I ought to be able to do cards with fairly basic materials." 

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"Yes, of course." He gets up to fetch them. "I do have a deck of cards and a checkers set if either of those would be useful."

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"I would absolutely like a deck of cards, because if you didn't recognize them as corresponding with the way your court and Marcella's are organized they must be very different from mine. And the checkers set would be nice too."

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These items are duly fetched, along with the previously-requested paper, scissors, and writing implements.

The checkers set is exactly like the ones Audrey is familiar with: a board of eight squares to a side in alternating colours, with twelve black and twelve white pieces. All the pieces are identical wooden discs, carved from the same light-coloured wood with the black pieces stained darker. 

The card deck has five suits: suns, moons, stars, leaves, and swords. Suns are drawn in red ink, moons in black, stars in blue, leaves in green, and swords in black again. The cards are numbered from one to twelve within each suit, for a total of sixty cards. They're clearly handmade. 

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"... Swords. That's interesting. Two black suits, one red, then green and blue as well - that's even more interesting. And twelve ranks, not thirteen..." 

She feels the edges of the cards, hums to herself. "Hatter, did you make these? Or - where did they come from?"

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"I made them, but the suits and numbers are standard. The colours are just to help people tell them apart," he explains, "and it's mostly dependent on which inks you have. The King and Queen had a set with gold and silver ink for the suns and moons." 

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"On earth, traditionally there are four suits - Spades and Clubs, the black suits: and Hearts and Diamonds, the red suits. Each suit goes Ace, two through ten, Jack, Queen, King. Aces can be read as "one", "fourteen", or both, depending on the game - or they can be wildcards. Sometimes there's a pair of Jokers as well, which can be any rank and suit, but I suspect if that were the case here Hatter would be one of them, so more likely he's the Jack, sometimes also called the Knave."

Her fingers flick through the deck as she slowly piles cards into the table. 

"What's less commonly known is that Earth's four suits grew out of a much, much older deck - the Tarot deck. Tarot... Is old magic. Deep magic. It's a way of seeing outside yourself - the oldest and most fundamental kind of rite." 

The corner of Audrey's mouth quirks up. "But, humans being humans, they couldn't resist fiddling with it and playing with it. And so the older deck was reduced, the suits changed, and completely new games were invented. But the roots are still there." 

She taps the Ace of Swords in Hatter's deck. "The suit of Swords is the ancient name for Spades: they are the same suit. And here is its Ace, right here in our deck, in the house of the Hatter, in the place where I returned to this world. That's no coincidence." 

She runs a hand through her hair. "I'm getting ahead of myself, though. Let me draw the suits."

And so she does. 

♥, ♠, ♣, ♦.

"Hearts, Spades, Clubs, Diamonds."

Audrey smiles. 

"Or, in their old names: Cups, Swords, Wands, Coins. The four fundamental implements of magic - also known in their fullest forms as the Chalice, Athame, Scepter and Pentacle."

Her fingers work against each other on the back of her neck, and her brow furrows. "Those, in turn, come with a host of symbolic associations too long and too deep to list. The main ones - Water, Air, Fire, Earth. The four classical elements said to make up the entire world. The cup collects water: the sword cuts through air: the wand unleashes fire: the pentacle binds to the earth." 

She looks around at the assembled Diamonds. "That would make us the element of Earth, opposing Marcella's element of Water. Mountains, holding back the sea - but not forever. The power of life, growth, stability, duty - against the power of mutability, change, community. The waters of life. But, looking around this table..." 

She points to Everless. "Justice. The rule of law, the suit of Swords: the power to discriminate, used well or poorly. " 

She points to the Hatter. "The Magician. Chaos, formlessness, the power of Will and Creation. The suit of Wands." 

Jabberwock. "The Moon. Illusions, intuitions, anxieties - and their release and dissipation."  

Faramund. "The Sun. Warmth, vitality, and optimism, but also depression or foolishness."

Herself. "The Star. Hope, faith and spirituality, but also despair and disconnection." 

She raises an eyebrow. "Funny how precisely we correspond to each suit. Wands to clubs to leaves is a bit of a stretch, perhaps, but the Magician can make do - and every one of us is a Tarot trump, one of the Major Arcana that was lost from the deck. Against that, Marcella has... Death. The Hanged Man. The Empress. The Tower. The Devil. All reversed, if I'm not mistaken."

 

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"Say more about those? 'Empress' is obvious."

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"Inability to change, being trapped in stasis, denial, pride in being cruel. To summarize very briefly. Sorry, I got kind of off-topic." 

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"I would like a more complete summary of Tarot later, but yes," Everless concedes, "you were teaching us about poker first."