“Thank you, I think,” said Alyss.
“Shall we sit?”
The holo-screens were displaying real-time scenes from Wondertropolis’ major thoroughfares and intersections. Arch lowered himself into a chair before the screen showing the newly-named Genevieve Square. The intel ministers removed themselves to a corner of the room and remained standing while two fellows with faces as inscrutable as masks took up positions on either side of their king. “I feel safe when I travel with them,” Arch said, noticing Alyss’ interest in his bodyguards. “Their names are Ripkins and Blister, and their combat skills, I think, would rival those of even the famed Hatter Madigan, though I’ve been informed that he has taken a sabbatical.” Alyss nodded. “He needed some time to attend to personal matters. But he’s available to us if we need him.”
The truth was, neither she nor anyone else knew where Hatter had gone or when he’d return. On several occasions, she had stood next to the Heart Crystal to maximize her remote viewing ability, searching for him with her imagination’s eye. The Everlasting Forest, the Chessboard Desert, the Valley of Mushrooms, Outerwilderbeastia, even the Volcanic Plains: No matter where she looked, she failed to locate him. He seemed to have vanished from Wonderland altogether. From out in the passage came a skiffling sound; Homburg Molly ran into the room and took up position at Alyss’ right flank.
“King Arch,” she said, “I’d like you to meet my bodyguard, Homburg Molly.” Homburg Molly bowed, but at the sight of her—what with her coat a trifle too large and the heavy backpack that she wore awkwardly—the king laughed. “What’s so funny?” Molly scowled.
Alyss placed a calming hand on the girl’s arm as King Arch struggled to control his laughter. The walrus-butler toddled into the room with a pitcher of flugelberry wine, two goblets, and a platter of tarty tarts. After the wine had been poured and the walrus dismissed, Arch cleared his throat and reluctantly begged the queen’s pardon—her bodyguard’s too, of course. He did his best to look serious, but his amused glance kept returning to Molly.
“So, where’s the Heart Crystal?” he asked. “I was hoping to have a hologram made of me basking in its glow.”
“I wouldn’t have thought the crystal was of interest to you,” Alyss answered. “Possession of it means little to those not gifted in imagination.” Arch waved a hand, dismissive. “Just like a woman not to listen. I didn’t say I wanted to possess it, Your Highness. Personally, I find whatever it is you do with your oh-so-powerful imagination to be overrated. Consider me a tourist who has come to see Wondertropolis’ main attractions. I’m sure you’ll grant that the Heart Crystal, as the source of creative inspiration for the cosmos, is among those?” “We no longer keep it in the open.”
“But I thought Redd had been disposed of. What is the harm in keeping it somewhere for the public to enjoy?”
Disposed of. We can only hope.
The holo-screens were displaying real-time scenes from Wondertropolis’ major thoroughfares and intersections. Arch lowered himself into a chair before the screen showing the newly-named Genevieve Square. The intel ministers removed themselves to a corner of the room and remained standing while two fellows with faces as inscrutable as masks took up positions on either side of their king. “I feel safe when I travel with them,” Arch said, noticing Alyss’ interest in his bodyguards. “Their names are Ripkins and Blister, and their combat skills, I think, would rival those of even the famed Hatter Madigan, though I’ve been informed that he has taken a sabbatical.” Alyss nodded. “He needed some time to attend to personal matters. But he’s available to us if we need him.”
The truth was, neither she nor anyone else knew where Hatter had gone or when he’d return. On several occasions, she had stood next to the Heart Crystal to maximize her remote viewing ability, searching for him with her imagination’s eye. The Everlasting Forest, the Chessboard Desert, the Valley of Mushrooms, Outerwilderbeastia, even the Volcanic Plains: No matter where she looked, she failed to locate him. He seemed to have vanished from Wonderland altogether. From out in the passage came a skiffling sound; Homburg Molly ran into the room and took up position at Alyss’ right flank.
“King Arch,” she said, “I’d like you to meet my bodyguard, Homburg Molly.” Homburg Molly bowed, but at the sight of her—what with her coat a trifle too large and the heavy backpack that she wore awkwardly—the king laughed. “What’s so funny?” Molly scowled.
Alyss placed a calming hand on the girl’s arm as King Arch struggled to control his laughter. The walrus-butler toddled into the room with a pitcher of flugelberry wine, two goblets, and a platter of tarty tarts. After the wine had been poured and the walrus dismissed, Arch cleared his throat and reluctantly begged the queen’s pardon—her bodyguard’s too, of course. He did his best to look serious, but his amused glance kept returning to Molly.
“So, where’s the Heart Crystal?” he asked. “I was hoping to have a hologram made of me basking in its glow.”
“I wouldn’t have thought the crystal was of interest to you,” Alyss answered. “Possession of it means little to those not gifted in imagination.” Arch waved a hand, dismissive. “Just like a woman not to listen. I didn’t say I wanted to possess it, Your Highness. Personally, I find whatever it is you do with your oh-so-powerful imagination to be overrated. Consider me a tourist who has come to see Wondertropolis’ main attractions. I’m sure you’ll grant that the Heart Crystal, as the source of creative inspiration for the cosmos, is among those?” “We no longer keep it in the open.”
“But I thought Redd had been disposed of. What is the harm in keeping it somewhere for the public to enjoy?”
Disposed of. We can only hope.