Into the Woods

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“Hurry, come away!” Lilas desperately pulled on her sister’s arm.

Mae, not certain whether to be irritated or extremely alarmed, gently laid Alice back against the boulder, and stood up to still Lilas’ frantic tugging.

“Lilas, have yeh gone mad? Why would we leave Alice behin’?”

Lilas looked at her with wide, fearful eyes in the lantern light and shook her head. “It’s only she tha’ he wants. Don’ yeh understand? If he has her, he’ll leave us all in peace, an’ we can move on.”

Mae gaped at her, dumbstruck.

Alice knew better and attempted to add to the argument. “No,” she croaked, “he… Stayne wants Tarrant,” her breath gave out and her limbs succumbed to a feeling she could only describe as ‘rubbery.’ At her ear, Mally whispered a quiet, “Hush.”

Lilas pulled on her curly locks in desperation as her own Madness began to surface, marring her typically stoic features. She swung the lantern up to peer out into the darkness.

“Mae, we have ta go nauw before he find’s yeh. He and I,” she glanced down at Alice with an almost regretful expression, “we have an agreemen’.” She looked back up to her sister. “You, however, don’.”

Mae took a step towards Alice, jaw slack. Disappointment and disbelief etched across the lines of her face.

“Yehr a traitor?”

Lilas shook her head then blanched when the sound of men yelling nearby echoed through the trees. “I did wha’ was best for me an’ mine! She does’nae belong here.” She jabbed a finger at Alice. “She’s gon’ta’ get Tarrant killed, an’ I will no’ allow tha’ ta’ happen!”

Mae wrung her hands in anger as if she would strangle her sibling. “How could yeh do this? We trusted yeh! Wha’ else have yeh told tha’ quislin’, eh?”

Lilas stared at her, agog. “I have been putting my life on tha line, every day, ta keep you an’ th’others safe. He knows only enough ta no’ come gallumphin’ in an’ murderin’ us all in our sleep.”

Mae spat on the ground and turned back to Alice. “I won’ be part of this, Lilas. It’s Wrong. Nauw, you help me lift her,” – Lilas looked up over her shoulder – “an’ together we’ll—”

Mae lurched forward with a cry in the middle of her sentence. Lilas screamed.

“Nae!” She dropped the lantern and rushed to her sister’s side before she could hit the ground.

Alice heard footsteps stumbling through the wood, and she could just make out the dimly lit, doubled-vision of something sticking out of Mae’s side.

“Mae, my sweet Mae,” Lilas wailed over and over. The Champion watched helplessly as the healer’s fingers danced over the arrow that had lodged itself near her sister’s ribcage.

“Thistle!” shouted a very angry voice.

The sound caused Alice to go completely limp. Despair once again washed over her numb body. They’d been found and there was nothing she could do.

“Stayne!” Lilas screeched, kneeling over Mae’s trembling body. “We had a deal!”

“Did we?” he asked and spun around to find Alice lying on the ground. “Well, at least you’ve caught the girl.”

Stayne reached down and hauled her to her feet. Of course, she couldn’t stand, so he ended up holding her to his chest.

Alice breathed heavily through her nose, the corners of her mouth turned down in an angry frown. She couldn’t so much as even move her arms making any attempts at escape impossible.

“Speechless, I see.” he mocked. “That’ll be the poison. Compliments of your new acquaintance of course.” He tossed over his shoulder, “Had it worked as quickly as I was promised we could have avoided this whole situation.”

“Yeh’ve go’ what yeh wan’, nauw go on, Stayne. Ne’er return.” Lilas stood between them and her sister. Her hardened voice was dark and venomous, and despite her treachery, Alice found some comfort in the fact that this vindictive creature would do all within her power to protect her Hatter.

“You’re forgetting something,” Stayne said as his horse shuddered to a stop beside him.

Lilas stepped forward and roughly shoved something that Alice couldn’t see into his hand.

“Is this one better?” he sneered.

She nodded in disgust and turned away.

“Pleasure as always,” Stayne said and turned away from the Healer. He hauled himself, and Alice, up onto the horse, settling her at his lap.

At her ear he whispered. “Unfortunately, my dear, we’ve run out of time. But perhaps it will please you to know that we’ll be seeing your precious Hatter soon.”

He then whistled into the dark and dug his heels into the horse’s flanks. The sound of men on horseback sounded on all sides, and together the band of Red Loyalists, and Alice, pushed deeper into the woods, leaving Mae and Lilas behind.


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They crashed through the forest jumping over trees, rocks and streams. Stayne kept one arm wrapped around Alice as she bounced helplessly in front of him with each gallop. Branches whipped across her face, and the tang of blood from a busted mouth had seeped through immobile lips.

Stayne was lamentably warm against her, and to her dismay, she increasingly found his presence more tolerable. Everything within her that remained resolutely Alice revolted at this idea. Had her body not shut down the notion of becoming his slave would have otherwise sent her into hysterics. The thought of death was beginning to look almost cheerful in comparison.

“Mirana will have heard of this incident by now, especially since that damnable Cheshire Cat is here.”

This gave Alice hope, and she fervently prayed that wherever Tarrant was it was with the queen and her army. There were more men riding with Stayne now than she’d seen before, and she doubted he and his supposed circle would have had time to gather their supporters so quickly. Of course, Lilas had been part of their group. What if she hadn’t been the only double crosser? To that point, was he even alive?

She sank into a deeper hopelessness and soon lost track of time. And at any rate, Time seemed increasingly irrelevant to her fevered brain. She imagined that she must be uncomfortable, resting as she was in such an awkward position, but even that seemed like too great of an effort to worry about.

Furthermore, hearing aside, all sensory perception had nearly dissolved. In fact, she hadn’t even realised that they had stopped until Stayne’s booming voice called out above her to his men, startling her out of a morose reverie.

“Burn everything! Let them know fear!”

Alice slowly blinked her eyes and watched as spots of light, torches, streaked here and there through the darkness, until some grew into larger balls of flame. And then those turned into house-sized blocks of fire.

The sounds of people screaming as they ran out of their homes rang throughout the streets.

They had reached Farowen.

Immediately, Stayne began combing the streets. Outlanders in their nightclothes dodged his rampaging steed, and more than one man cried out as the knave ran his sword across their bellies in passing.

She couldn’t even flinch when their blood spattered across her face.

“Where is the Mad Hatter now?” he yelled fanatically to the fleeing masses all around. “Where is your Protector now?”

In the distance, the sounds of blades clanging together carried through the night air and caught his attention.

“Has the cavalry arrived?” Hooves clopped over cobblestones, and villagers scurried away from the nightmarish image of the crazed man and his bloodstained stallion.

A few blocks away in the village square, men and women in varying stages of dress were fighting against the knave’s militia. Alice’s slowly beating heart skipped in response. They had been able to gather the clans after all! Her head lolled to one side, narrowly missing a wooden staff that clipped Stayne in the shoulder.

“So they have!” He brandished his sword. “Hatter!” he yelled, plunging into the thick of the battle.

The combination of a bright moon and the surrounding fire from the burning village was just enough to shed light on the crowd, and Alice tried as best she could to distinguish a wild tangle of red. As was Stayne. Soon, he uttered a soft cry, and they lurched ahead. Alice nearly slid off.

Before her, people were tangled together, limbs flashing back and forth, and ahead, she spied Tarrant fighting a tall man with a large club. Arris was beside him, protecting his back from a pair of plump, balding fellows with vicious little daggers.

“Missing something, Hightopp?” Stayned shrieked sadistically above the din.

Alice automatically winced as a hand fisted in her hair to jerk her head up. Those around them briefly stopped fighting, and her blurry eyes barely made out the outline of her beloved friend.

Tarrant’s blade faltered in mid-air as he looked upon the knave with Alice. Stayne chuckled darkly and wrapped his arm back around her limp form and he dug his heels into the animal’s flanks and took off. Behind them Tarrant cried out in anguish.

The stallion ploughed through every person before them, regardless of loyalty, and Stayne directed them away from the village towards the meadow at its border.

In her heart, Alice knew that the Hatter was already following, and she panicked. Stayne was using her to draw him out. Alone.

“Soon,” he chanted to himself among other nonsensical babblings. He kept his arm around her tightly until they came to the edge of the forest, minutes later, where not a soul was present.

He slid out of the saddle and dropped her unceremoniously onto the hard ground. Alice thought she heard a pop like cracking bones, but as she could hardly feel any sensation whatsoever, she wasn’t sure if something had broken or not.

“Now we wait for him to follow.” He added, “Which he will.”

The knave then dragged Alice to an old, weathered tree stump, and placed her so that she appeared to be sitting up.

He stood back and surveyed this arrangement. Something, dissatisfaction perhaps, flashed in his black eye, and he cocked his head. Alice nearly whimpered.

“You don’t mind if I make an adjustment do you?”

He reached for a small hunting knife on his belt and then slid the tip of its blade across her collarbone. Blood beaded up and streamed down the front of her tunic, soaking it to her skin.

“Much better.”

Alice’s mind screamed at what her body would otherwise have registered as Pain and Fear. The detachment at which he maimed her frightened her beyond all logic; it was unbearable! And having no control over anything that happened to her yet still retaining some trace of her mind, this, in and of itself, was torture. For a terrifying moment she wondered if she would always be consciously aware.

Stayne watched her eyes and the inner turmoil within with a sick sort of glee.

“Can you smile for me yet, Alice?”

The first stirrings of physical sensation twitched in her cheek at his command. Through the panic, she fought with every ounce of willpower she had left to disobey. Her lips remained slightly curved downward with hatred. It was a small victory.

Stayne frowned. “All in good time, I suppose.” He stood back up and looked towards the village for any sign of the Hatter. “I hope you enjoy the spectacle, my dear. If I don’t’ kill him first, I’ll have a pair of live puppets.”

Alice’s heart broke at the thought.

“Don’t worry,” he crooned, starting to back away, “I’ll make him do the hard work. You won’t leave my chambers very often.”

He left Alice’s field of vision and she heard him run toward the trees.

Alice’s heart had slowed to a worrisome pace, and she fought to control her breathing. Mercifully, she couldn’t feel the wound he had just inflicted, but then again, that was almost more terrifying. She imagined tears slipping down her scratched and bruised face.

All she could do, control, was breathe. In. Out. In.

The minutes ticked by in silence, and eventually Alice began to forget where she was again and why she was there, or what that distant, red glow in the sky was. She closed her eyes. Her inner voices had gone silent. She simply was.

As she decided she no longer existed, because how could one exist if one heard, saw, felt, or thought nothing (of importance), a reaffirming sound jolted her awake. Or, it would have jolted her had she been able to move. ‘Ah, I do exist.’

It was a thundering sound. A clopping maybe. The rhythm of it seemed familiar, but in the end she decided it didn’t matter. And it was getting harder to breathe. Her eyes closed again and moments later her brain alerted her to the fact that she was falling. Or being shaken. Something odd at any rate.

There was a pale and blurry Something before her.

“Alice!” a terrified voice lisped.

‘Friend?’ her mind asked, trying to wake up and exist again.

“Alice, my Alice,” the man, the Hatter, shook her in alarm and gazed at the angry slash across her chest. His hands trembled as he tore off a strip of fabric from his coat and gently pressed it to the wound.

‘Fear!’ her mind yelled. ‘Go back!’

He cradled her against him until she could see nothing but darkness against his shoulder.

‘Bad, bad, bad,’ she thought. She was falling again.

When she opened her eyes, the Hatter was sprawling a couple feet away and Stayne stood tall and menacing above him. He twirled his sword in lazy circles while the Hatter scrambled back to his feet.

“You certainly took your time,” he said and glanced at Alice. “We missed him, didn’t we, dearest?”

Alice, of course, made no response and continued to lie in the crumpled position in which she’d fallen.

The Hatter was on his feet, sword in hand and took notice of this. “Alice?”

She was still.

He snarled at the knave and balled his fists nervously. “Why won’ she move? What’ve yeh done ta her?”

Stayne crossed towards her and shrugged. The Hatter raised his broadsword and stepped between them to block his path.

“Why won’ she move?” he demanded once again.

“Oh, that? She’s going through a change, you might say.”

Tarrant stared at him and then looked down to Alice in shock.

The knave laughed and tapped his sword against the Hatter’s.

“She’ll make such a pretty puppet won’t she? Champion of the Walking Dead – what an honour.”

“No…” Tarrant dropped to his knees with a cry, utterly stunned, and weakly looked into Alice’s almost blank eyes.

‘I’m sorry.’ she thought sadly.

The end of Stayne’s sword pressed against his throat. He made no move to stop him.

“I have a proposition for you,” he murmured.

At this, Tarrant tore his gaze from Alice, desperate.

“Name it.”

Stayne produced two phials and held one out at arm’s length.

“In this hand, I have another solution of poison.” Stayne dangled the second glass closer to his person. “In the other, I have the antidote.”

The Hatter stared at it.

“Just the one.”

‘Lies!’ she wanted to yell.

The dark man took a step back, taunting the Outlander, and held the antidote up to the moonlight; Tarrant held his breath.

“I’d be willing to arrange a trade. She hasn’t turned yet, and I do so want vengeance.” He twirled the poison in his left hand. “One soul for another.”

‘No!’

Without hesitation, Tarrant reached up and grabbed the phial, pulled the cork out with his teeth and swallowed it in one go.

‘No, no, no!!’ She watched in horror as he threw the empty glass tube away and crawled towards her.

“I’m sorry, my Alice,” he whispered against her ear and placed a kiss against her temple.

Her mind went numb; he’d drunk it. Now they were both doomed – Stayne had his pair of live playthings just like he’d said he would. A tear slid down the length of her nose.

Tarrant stood up, coughing.

“Yeh have yehr trade. Give her tha antidote,” he said, stretching out his hand.

Stayne clapped his together with delight and laughed. “You didn’t even have to think about it, did you?” He smiled at the Hatter and shook his head. “You really are Mad.”

Tarrant took another step towards him. “Give it. Nauw.”

Stayne looked down at the antidote in his fingers. “Power is a heady thing, Hatter.”

“I’m warnin’ yeh, Stayne.” Hatred dripped from his tinted lips with each syllable. He reached down for his broadsword.

Stayne gripped his own weapon and shook his head. “Fight for it.”

The Hatter needed no further provocation. He was at the knave a heartbeat later, sword flashing, teeth bared with anger.

Clashes rang throughout the quiet meadow, and Alice was overcome with a weariness that threatened to overwhelm her. She was aware of also feeling incredibly warm. The second physical sensation since Stayne had asked her to smile.

Two blurry shapes twisted, dodged and swung at each other before her, but further than that she had no idea who was who or what was otherwise happening. She was just so tired. There seemed no point to anything anymore.

Near Alice’s ankles, the tongue of a leather boot rippled, and a tiny dormouse emerged from its hiding place.

She ran up the length of Alice and growled in her ear. “How do you keep managing to get into trouble like this?”

Alice weakly opened her eyes as Stayne yelled out in pain. He had fallen to the ground due to a clever blow to his left leg, and the Hatter pounced on him, reaching for the phial.

“Hold on, Alice,” Mally said.

Alice’s eyes drooped further.

“Don’t go to sleep now, ya lump!” Mallymkun grabbed the girl’s eyelids and yanked them open. “Some Champion you are.”

Further off, the Hatter was grappling with the knave for the phial.

“Give it up, Stayne,” he ground out, grasping the glass between his dirty fingers.

Stayne took advantage of his exposed side and jammed a sharp elbow into his ribs. The Hatter rolled away in pain, coughing violently. He staggered to his feet to get his breath while Stayne reached over in the grass for his sword.

“How are you feeling?” he gasped as the Hatter shook his head, wobbling in place. “This one is working faster. Thistle is more skilled than I initially admitted.”

Tarrant looked up at that and glared.

“You know, in the end she was easy to convince. She’s terribly fond of you.”

Something caught the Hatter’s eye, and he stopped coughing for a moment long enough to stand up and smirk at Stayne.

“I know,” he said, and then jumped off to the side as a frumiest bandersnatch Underland had seen in at least a century, came barrelling silently through the tall grass of the meadow and threw its entire weight into Ilosovic Stayne.

The knave was thrown forward and the glass phial was flung out of his hand and arced through the air.

Tarrant, who was staggering and coughing and weaving dangerously, tossed his sword aside and collapsed to his knees. Frantically he started searching the ground.

Behind him, the bandersnatch was snarling and snapping furiously while Stayne desperately fought him off.

Tarrant’s hands flew over sticks and dried grasses until finally, finally it settled across the smooth, cool surface of the phial.

Mally, for her part, was dancing on the spot by Alice’s face as it lay on the ground, watching him slowly drag himself to Alice’s side.

When he finally reached her Alice’s eyes were closed and her lips unnaturally pale.

“Alice!” he cried, reaching for her shoulders.

Mallymkun raced up to Alice’s neck to stand by her jaw, ready to help if needed. Hatta’s hands were shaking so violently that it looked as if he might drop it before the cure even reached her lips.

The stopper hadn’t yet been fully removed when, behind them, the bandersnatch roared out in pain and Mally jumped.

“Hatta!” she screeched.

Stayne was making his ragged way towards his prizes with fury twisting his ugly face. He kicked Tarrant in the ribs, sending him rolling away from Alice and dropping the phial beside her.

The Hatter sat up, blocking the next blow to his side and grabbed the knave’s legs and twisted.

“I should have killed yeh on tha Frabjous Day,” he grunted with effort.

Mally scampered back down to the ground and wrapped her arms around the phial. She dragged it through the grass and tugged on the half-loose cork. Once free, she carefully balanced the long tube against her back and began trying to climb up Alice’s tunic.

The bandersnatch moaned several feet away.

Tarrant managed to knock Stayne over, and he quickly crawled back to Alice. The phial was gone.

“Hatter!” Stayne yelled, wiping a streak of blood from his brow and reaching again for his broadsword.

Tarrant blinked as his vision unfocused. He lay on his back and stared up at Stayne.

An evil grin twisted the knave’s lips and he raised his sword.

“Perhaps it was greedy of me to want two pets.”

Tarrant rested his hand on top of Alice’s at his side.

Stayne brought the sword above head. “I’m sure I’ll keep the one busy enough as it is.” He plunged the sword downward and the World seemed to slow down.

Stayne bent forward, throwing his weight into the swing. At Tarrant’s side, Alice raised his sword from where it had fallen and she jammed it upward with every ounce of strength she had – straight through his black heart.

Stayne faltered, his one eye wide with shock and looked down at the blade whose hilt was the only thing visibly sticking out of him. His sword fell from his hands and he staggered back, jaw slack.

Alice’s face held no emotion as she presented the empty phial before her. Mallymkun slashed her hatpin sword at him from the ground with pride; while on the ground Tarrant’s lips were bowed with his familiar, toothy grin as he stared up at the sky. His hand remained clasped to Alice’s.

With a final gasp, Stayne fell to the ground in a heap.

Mally had managed to pour the liquid down Alice’s throat, and she had immediately started feeling herself again. Seeing Stayne on the ground, she banished one solved problem in order to make room for the next. The realisation that Tarrant had taken the poison sunk in fully now, and desperately, she turned to him, grabbing his face between her palms.

“Tarrant?”

He placed his hands over hers, pupils askew in the moonlight, with his daffy grin still in place.

“Alice,” he breathed with a lisp, “you did it. I knew you could.” He coughed again and rolled over on his side.

Alice scrambled to raise him up, cradling him in her arms, while Fear settled into her gut.

“You need an antidote! Lilas, she, her and Mae are somewhere in the forest,” she muttered in a panic and then remembered the bandersnatch. He was attempting to limp towards them, which meant he wouldn’t be able to get them anywhere that night.

“Oh, Alice,” he sighed and leaned into her. “I’m so happy you’re safe.”

“Shh,” she said, stroking his hair from his face. “We need to get you help.” She sniffled as tears began to prickle the backs of her eyes.

He gripped her hand again and pressed it to his warm lips. “Don’t worry about me. What’s important is that you’re safe. And you’re You again.”

Alice bit back a sob and rocked him slowly. “But what about You? What,” she hiccupped, “what will I do without you?”

He twisted around to face her, perplexed. “Where am I going?”

Alice stared at him and shook her head. “You swallowed the poison! The Walking Death! You’re already, it’s affecting you!” she cried. She hugged him to her and finally started sobbing into his hair. She had no idea how she could get him out of here or even to Lilas’ home to search for something, anything— she froze.

“The book!”

Tarrant stared up at her, still grinning, and coughed once. His eyes blinked separately. “What book?”

She sat up, gathering his face in her hands again, feeling a glimmer of hope. “The book, the book! I read a book!”

Tarrant laughed. “That’s wonderful. I’m very fond of those.”

“No, it was a book I found at the tavern! Mae had it and, oh—” she’d forgotten about Mae. “Oh no, Mae was injured.”

The Hatter’s grin faded with concern. “Injured? When?”

She waved him off, and with a pang, told herself to focus. ‘Priorities, Alice.’ And he was Top Priority first. “Never mind, her sister will take care of her, the wretch.”

Tarrant’s long eyebrows rose up in confusion.

Alice launched again into her previous trial of thought. “This book at Mae’s, it tells of a woman who had discovered an antidote. Tarrant, if we can get back there maybe I could make something…” she stood up and began hauling him to his feet, arm slung around her shoulders.

“Can you walk? We can’t waste any more time—”

“Yes,” he interrupted, “I know all about this book.”

Alice gazed at him, wondering if he were speaking out of delirium. “You do?”

He smiled at her and brushed a hand across her cheek. “Yes. Lilas has a copy of it as well.”

She looked at him then and fought off a slight ache of jealousy, but was still confused.

“Their grandmother made them both copies. It’s been in the family for years.”

She was lost. “Their family?”

He nodded and stared at Alice’s lips. “Aye. Although’ ta be fair, Mae doesn’ have much use for it. But it’s been very helpful to ‘Li. She’s been practisin’ on me for months nauw, an’ if she weren’ so skilled, I’d probably be dead.”

Everything jammed to a stop and her mind reeled as she tried to process this information. “What? What are you talking about? What practising?”

He nodded and leaned in close to Alice. His coughing had subsided and he’d stopped wobbling. “Aye, sweetest. She’s been givin’ me doses of th’antidote for a while nauw. We both suspected somethin’ like this migh’ happen, yeh see. Though, tha’ poison’s still no’ very pleasan’.” His fingers brushed her curls back, and he dipped his nose to lightly inhale his Champion’s divine scent.

Alice lips broke out into wide grin and she jumped up and down. “So, you’re immune? You aren’t going to die then?” she shrieked.

He shook his head and jumped with her in excitement. “Nae, yeh goose. What did yeh thin’ she’d been givin’ me this whole time? Tha poison?”

She instantly felt ashamed.

“I don’t know what I thought,” she admitted. She debated whether or not to tell him about how she’d bargained with Stayne yet, but his arms wrapped around her tightly and for just a moment she let everything else go.

She leaned into him and rejoiced in the feel of him warm and whole against her. He was alive, she was alive, but further than that she had no idea of anything else. He rested his chin atop her head.

Quietly they stood wrapped in each other’s embrace, when eventually Bandy started whimpering and looking away towards the forest... whose trees appeared to be shaking.

Alice sighed with frustration and they turned to stare at the dark wall of forest before them. “What now?”

He took a step forward and after a moment jumped in surprise. “The White Queen!”

Tarrant grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the bandersnatch. “Wait here,” he said and went to find his broadsword.

“We can ride in with them. Oh, Alice. The village!”

Guiltily they both turned to stare at the red haze over Farowen until the sound of horses galloping, and the blaring of trumpets, and the delighted squeals of happiness from the Queen swallowed them up and carried them along.

There was still a battle going on in Farowen to win.




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A/N: We're winding down now, only one more chapter left.



01/07/10 - Hi, everyone. I'm sorry I haven't gotten Chapter 10 posted yet! The holidays ran away with me, but rest assured, it is all written, it just needs to be a bit re-worked. Should be up soon. Thank you again for reading, and sorry for the delay. :)