“I hope you’ve had better luck
than I,” said the creature, “because I’ve had none! Not the tiniest
bit! No,
indeed, I cannot find the queen anywhere!” “I was just with her,” Dodge said. “I’m sure I can find her for you.” Behind Dodge’s back, Bibwit shook his head at the walrus—No, shhhh, say nothing—but the poor animal was carried away with worry and woe. “Then you must tell her, Mr. Dodge—oh, it’s bad news, very unfortunate!—you must inform Queen Alyss that the Glass Eyes have invaded Wondertropolis!” Before Bibwit could stop him, Dodge was halfway down the hall with his sword drawn. “Tell Alyss to stay in the palace!” he shouted, and kept running. CHAPTER 12
T HE FIRE crystals in the shallow pit cast a modest heat as Hatter sat staring at Weaver’s stilled image. He had paused the diary, wondering if something were wrong with its inner workings, because his beloved appeared blurry, as if seen through a veil of water. But then he felt the wet on his cheeks. It wasn’t the diary; he was crying.
She was dressed in the Alyssian uniform: rough-fibered and nondescript except for the emblem of a white heart on the cuff of the right shirtsleeve. His hand twitched. The diary began to play. “If you’re viewing this,” Weaver said, “then you have proved wrong all those who currently believe you and the princess are dead…although it also means that I’m most likely dead.” She smiled sadly at the space between them. Hatter nearly slammed the diary shut. He’d been wrong; he wasn’t ready for this. But to relegate Weaver’s image back inside the book…No, he couldn’t do that either. It would be too much like shutting her away in a tomb. And so he sat there, watching her recorded image, listening to her every word.
“This diary is for me as much as it is you, Hatter. I hope I’ll be able to tell you what I have to say in person, but circumstances here are dangerous. Just because I’m alive today is no guarantee that I’ll be so tomorrow. You probably already know that Redd has destroyed the Millinery. Her goal is genocide, to wipe the Milliner breed from existence. It’s believed that she salvaged the ID tracking system from the Millinery and is using it for this purpose, after which she’ll destroy it. You often told me that one born a Milliner still needs the proper training to make the most of his or her natural gifts, but Redd puts more credence in the birth than in the training. As soon as the first Milliner was ambushed by Redd, I hid out here, not sure if I’d be targeted too. There are rumors that a few Milliners have so far managed to escape their assassins and are hiding undercover somewhere. If the rumors are true, I hope they will continue to evade their would-be murderers so that once the rebellion succeeds—and I believe it must—they will come out of hiding and you can lead them in a new Millinery.” Hatter felt a twinge; reestablishing the Millinery was the last thing he felt like doing. “I understand that our relationship was difficult for you, Hatter,” Weaver went on. “I know that despite how thoughtful and loving you always were to me, a part of you was angry with yourself for succumbing to your feelings for anyone, let alone a civilian. A master of self-control as all of Wonderland believes you to be, you shouldn’t have been consorting with me. You thought your feelings a mark against you, an
indeed, I cannot find the queen anywhere!” “I was just with her,” Dodge said. “I’m sure I can find her for you.” Behind Dodge’s back, Bibwit shook his head at the walrus—No, shhhh, say nothing—but the poor animal was carried away with worry and woe. “Then you must tell her, Mr. Dodge—oh, it’s bad news, very unfortunate!—you must inform Queen Alyss that the Glass Eyes have invaded Wondertropolis!” Before Bibwit could stop him, Dodge was halfway down the hall with his sword drawn. “Tell Alyss to stay in the palace!” he shouted, and kept running. CHAPTER 12
T HE FIRE crystals in the shallow pit cast a modest heat as Hatter sat staring at Weaver’s stilled image. He had paused the diary, wondering if something were wrong with its inner workings, because his beloved appeared blurry, as if seen through a veil of water. But then he felt the wet on his cheeks. It wasn’t the diary; he was crying.
She was dressed in the Alyssian uniform: rough-fibered and nondescript except for the emblem of a white heart on the cuff of the right shirtsleeve. His hand twitched. The diary began to play. “If you’re viewing this,” Weaver said, “then you have proved wrong all those who currently believe you and the princess are dead…although it also means that I’m most likely dead.” She smiled sadly at the space between them. Hatter nearly slammed the diary shut. He’d been wrong; he wasn’t ready for this. But to relegate Weaver’s image back inside the book…No, he couldn’t do that either. It would be too much like shutting her away in a tomb. And so he sat there, watching her recorded image, listening to her every word.
“This diary is for me as much as it is you, Hatter. I hope I’ll be able to tell you what I have to say in person, but circumstances here are dangerous. Just because I’m alive today is no guarantee that I’ll be so tomorrow. You probably already know that Redd has destroyed the Millinery. Her goal is genocide, to wipe the Milliner breed from existence. It’s believed that she salvaged the ID tracking system from the Millinery and is using it for this purpose, after which she’ll destroy it. You often told me that one born a Milliner still needs the proper training to make the most of his or her natural gifts, but Redd puts more credence in the birth than in the training. As soon as the first Milliner was ambushed by Redd, I hid out here, not sure if I’d be targeted too. There are rumors that a few Milliners have so far managed to escape their assassins and are hiding undercover somewhere. If the rumors are true, I hope they will continue to evade their would-be murderers so that once the rebellion succeeds—and I believe it must—they will come out of hiding and you can lead them in a new Millinery.” Hatter felt a twinge; reestablishing the Millinery was the last thing he felt like doing. “I understand that our relationship was difficult for you, Hatter,” Weaver went on. “I know that despite how thoughtful and loving you always were to me, a part of you was angry with yourself for succumbing to your feelings for anyone, let alone a civilian. A master of self-control as all of Wonderland believes you to be, you shouldn’t have been consorting with me. You thought your feelings a mark against you, an