Almost Alice

See Me In Shadow

Standing in the shadow of our lies
To hide our imperfections
Doing anything we can to hide
Eyes wide open but still blind
To see what really matters
And insecurity won't go
See me in shadows

Standing by the ruins of your soul
That cries for some more meaning
Wondering when you have
Become so cold


So cold
And all the pictures of your past are gone
So cold, so cold
Forget yourself
And who you are
Another life is not that far

Standing by the paintings of your dreams
But you have awoken
And all the purples and the greens
Have turned to black
And the ruins of your soul
Have died, no more meaning
I wonder when you have
Become so cold

So cold
And all the pictures of your past are gone
So cold, so cold
Forget yourself
And who you are
Another life is not that far

Not that far

See me in Shadow - Delain


A week passed in relative harmony. Scouts sent word to the castle whenever they learned something new. Tarrant hadn’t kissed Alice again and she was just starting to accept that perhaps it had been a mistake. That didn’t make it hurt less though.

She continued to have nightmares of the fire and Tarrant continued to cuddle close to her but he was always gone by morning and so she had no idea what to think of that.

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Tarrant was awakened at dawn. Another night raid had plunged Underland further into chaos and darkness. This time, a pretty village called Wingding at the edge of the White Sea. Less than a half day’s ride from Marmoreal it was clearly meant to challenge the hatter.

To prove that Stayne was capable of attacking anyone, anywhere and daring the hatter to ride from behind the safety of the walls.

Tarrant was more than willing to do so. He dressed quietly not wanting to wake Alice, her dreams had been troubled again last night. Right now he just wanted her to rest and heal that broken part of her inside. He left orders with the white rabbit to alert Alice to his location when she woke and that she was to stay safe in the castle.

Then he took a company of knights and rode out.

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Alice woke sometime later feeling chilled. She reached for Tarrant but found his linens cold. He’d been gone for some time. So accustomed was she to his warm presence in her sleep that the lack of it sent a pang of panic racing through her.

She called his name, even as she tugged on a light robe and threw the tall doors open wide.

“Tarrant?”

McTwisp stood nearby, fidgeting with his precious pocket watch and he looked up rapidly at the thunderous sound. “Oh, hello Alice.” he called to her.

She spun, sighing in relief to see him, “McTwisp, the hatter is gone.”

The rabbit nodded, “Yes, just after dawn. Terrible business. The knave attacked in the night. Not far from here.”

“He didn’t wake me” she said more to herself than the rabbit. “Why?”

“He wanted you to rest and he was most specific, to remain here until he returns.”

“What if Stayne attacks him?”

“He took an armed company of knight Lady Alice. No need to worry. Won’t you come and have a bite to eat while we wait for him?”

She nodded, “Yes. Thank you, just let me get dressed.” She would have to talk to the hatter about running off like this later she decided.

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The destruction was complete. Not a house was left untouched. Not a one. Spindly timbers and pilings stood stark and smoldering against the white sands and the angry gray sky. The scent of fire and death hung heavy in the air. Tarrant forced himself not to gag as he breathed it in.

For the second time in his life he stood in the center of carnage embodied. Whole families had been lost that day. As his had been lost. Lives wiped away with a swift attack that brought terror and death and torment. How many Tarrant Hightopps had been made this dark day? The mark that was indelible on the page of Underland would always remain here. As it had in Witz End. He felt his chest constrict as a soft curse from a knight drew his attention to the far end of the village.

There, carelessly piled and tangled, were the over one hundred residents of this once lovely seaside town. Tarrant’s now blistering orange gaze was unwavering as he made his way to them. The knights around him searching for survivors.

A cold wisp of wind ripped through the empty street, stirring ash and ember alike. Heavy raindrops began to fall in earnest and one of the knights cried out in relief as the deluge helped them quell the fires. Still they brought bucket after bucket of sea water to dash out the hungry flames.

But there was no hope for the pretty village.

Tarrant stalked across the earth to the mass of twisted limbs. He removed his hat and forced himself to etch the sight forever in his heart. “Ye will be avenged” he whispered harshly to them, “I swear it to ye. Ye rest easy with the lost of my clan now.”

A small sound reached him then and he turned blinking as the nature of the sound reached him. A cry. A child’s cry. His burning eyes locked on a nearby house. Smoke poured off it.

He dashed to it and began to tear at the smoldering door with his bare hands. The splinters and embers biting into his discolored flesh. “Oi!” he shouted to the knights, “Help here! I hear something!”

In short time they had cleared the path and the hatter dashed inside. Spinning in the smoking interior. There in the unlit hearth! His hands fell on damp cloth and he pulled it close to him, peeling back the layers to see a bright red, soot streaked little face staring back at him.

Tarrant dashed outside into the rain. The child, feeling the wet drops his face, bowed his back and screamed his fear and outrage to the world at a large. He so surprised the poor hatter that Tarrant might have dropped him. But his large hands tightened on the child, hugging him close, cooing soft nonsensical words that only hatters know.

“Check carefully for others” he called to the knights, “And we must start digging. These poor people need a proper burial.” He handed over the infant to a knight named MacTavish, “See to him while I help.” The knight took the child in gentle hands, bundling him away from the cold and the hatter dashed off to assist the others.

Long hours later Tarrant drove the final marker into the earth. They were sore, soaked, heart sore and tired. In the search they had found two others. A young boy, and an old woman. She hadn’t lived more than a few minutes after being found. And the children, Tarrant thought, who would care for them?

“That’s the last Lord Hatter” MacTavish reported, jostling the child gently. The little one greedily sucked a bottle one of the knights had managed to find. Tarrant nodded, wiping soot from his brow with the back of his hand.

“To Marmoreal.” he commanded.
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Alice looked up when the door flew open, fully expecting to see Tarrant stride through. Instead a flurry of soaking wet Dormice dashed in.

“Lady Alice!”

“Champion Alice!”

The hall rang with a dozen small voices all talking at once.

“The knave, the terrible knave!”

Alice sank to her knees carefully among them, “Calm down. Please! I can’t understand you.”

She lowered her palm and a small brown mouse hopped into her palm, shivering piteously. Water pooled at his little pink feet. “The knave” he told her in a tiny voice, “He is attacking Dormer’s Cross.”

She frowned, “Where is that?”

“The city of Dormice on the edge of the mushroom forest. Just to the east of the Tulgey wood.”

Alice got to her feet.

“Miss Mallymkun is there, her family is there!” the little mouse wailed. Alice set him gently down on a large chair.

“You stay here, get dry.”

She turned toward the door only to be stopped by McTwisp. “The hatter said…”

“I know” she bit out, “But I haven’t the time to wait for him. They need help now!”

She dashed through the door despite his protests, calling for the knights to assemble.

Once they were gathered she pulled herself into the saddle of a horse and nodded, “To Dormer’s Cross!”

“I do not like this Champion. We should wait for Lord Hatter‘s return.” a knight told her firmly, “This could be a ruse to separate the king from his champion.”

Alice nodded grimly, “I know that, but we don’t have a choice and we cannot wait. Even now they are dying.”

The knight swore softly, she was right and wrong and the whole mess was a hell of a place to be stuck in. Reaching into his armor he drew out a small vial on a silver chain. “At least take this.”

“What is it?”

“Pishsolver. If it gets too bad you can always slip away, small enough to escape notice. If anything happens to you the hatter will have my head.”

She nodded and dropped the chain over her head, then she tugged on the reins and they were racing across Underland, heedless of the storm raging around them.

It was well into nightfall when they reached the edge of the forest. The fires and smoke now visible in the darkness. Wet wood and smoky fire scented the air. The tiny homes of the Dormice, shattered and burning. Alice swung from the horse, grasping a sword one of the knights had given her.

She tried not to think too much on the fact that she really didn’t know how to use it. The vorpal sword only required she hold it. This, well this was different, but it was too late for second thoughts now.

“Next time just send the knights Alice” she muttered to herself then laughed darkly, “I always give myself very good advice…”

“What was that my lady?”

“I said I give myself very good advice but I very seldom follow it.”

The knight nodded, “Could explain the trouble that you’re always in.” he said good naturedly, “But you have Lord Hatter to pull you out before you get too deep.”

She took a deep, bracing breath, “I truly hope so.”
“Dormice!” she shouted and the knights began to pick through the ruins, lifting tiny forms to safety. Some would be lost, many would live though. They scoured the woods, finding more.

Alice gasped when a pale man stepped out to meet her. Drawing her up at the end of his sword. She leapt back, leveling her own at him. His milky white eyes stared at her, or through her. The deep red gash at his neck caught her eye as did the crude stitching that kept his head attached… and she realized.

“You’re a dead man.”

He lunged forward and she fought him off as best she could. Dead or not, he was still quite skilled and very powerful. She narrowly missed being sliced and blocked the blow. Trying her very best to recall her many movements with the Jabberwocky would do her no good. No, all she had now was sheer dumb luck.

The knights were engaged by dead men as well, hacking, slicing, stabbing, kicking.

“No good!” a knight called out, “We can’t defeat them Champion! They can’t be hurt.”

Alice glanced back at him, a mistake to be sure, for the dead man swung his fist, connecting with Alice as she turned to face him again. She felt the stinging pain as her lip met her teeth and tore against the edge of them. Blood filled her mouth and dribbled down her chin.

Alice ignored it as it was the least of her worries. She ducked and dodged the sword, slapping his blade away with her own. “Well, we can.” she groused.

“Almost got them!” a knight shouted, “A few minutes more.”

Alice nodded, “I can do that.” She kicked the walking corpse back and away from her. Those minutes seem to last an eternity but she fought on as best she could. She gritted her teeth when a careless move rewarded her with a large slice on her thigh.

“Damn you” she growled, “Are we there?” she shouted out.

“Aye Champion!”

“And Mallymkun? Is she safe?”

The knights began to ask among the frightened mice, “Mallymkun?”

One burned dormouse panted out, “Ran off into the forest. After the little ones, much afeared they were.”

Alice was stunned when the dead men began to retreat. Apparently some sign had been given for they melted back into the shadows like wraiths. Alice panted for breath, her exertions having worn her out. Her heart pounded wildly.

“Champion we must return before they come back” a knight called to her.

“I must find Mally!” She bolted into the forest. She heard them calling after but she went anyway, keeping an eye out for anything ready to pounce.

“Mally? Mally! Please it’s Alice! Where are you?” She scanned the forest floor for sign of the mouse. The knights fanning out around her, taking careful steps lest they trample Mally in their haste.

A volley of cries drew her attention and Alice spun around to see the knights once more engaged in deadly combat.

“Run Champion!“

This was all her fault. She took a step backward and collided with something hard.

She tried to spin but found herself held fast in a tight grip. “Hello Alice.”

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