He held the silken thread aloft, stretched taught between his hands. The thread glinted in the light. If the
Milliner knew what it was, he didn’t say. “It is silk produced by one of Wonderland’s six caterpillar-oracles,” Arch explained. “This one, I believe—it’s hard to see in this light—is orange. I know you’re familiar with the power of caterpillar silk, Hatter, so there’s no use pretending.”
“My hat is, in part, made of them.”
“Yes. Your hat contains threads from the blue and purple caterpillars and it is these that account for the hat’s remarkable characteristics as a weapon. You see that I know things you would not expect me to know. The spinster who taught Milliners to manufacture their hats in just such a way, what was her name?”
“Miss Hado.”
“Miss Hado, that’s right. Poor Miss Hado. Once Redd took control of Wonderland, she didn’t survive much longer than Queen Genevieve. But as determined as Redd was to eliminate Milliners from existence, she was somewhat lax in the disposal of their headgear. Had you managed to avoid Redd’s Glass Eyes after her coup, Hatter, you could have gone around to Wonderland’s many purveyors of contraband and bought up the headgear of your assassinated Millinery colleagues. You would’ve had to be quick about it, though, as you wouldn’t have been alone. The supply of Milliner hats, never abundant, became more and more limited as Wonderlanders unraveled them, trying to discover how the caterpillar threads worked. No one succeeded in this, I assume, or we would’ve known it by now.” “You must have succeeded, Your Majesty,” Hatter said, “or I wouldn’t be here.” Arch toyed with his caterpillar thread, coiling and uncoiling it around a finger. “You will not provoke me into telling more than I wish. I unspool this information to you a small amount at a time, much as one of your caterpillars spools silk out its spinneret. You will be told as little as is necessary for you to perform the task I require of you. Now let’s see, what else do I know that might surprise you?” In trying to surmise the details of Arch’s plan, Hatter had concluded that it had been an accident. Arch could not have lured Weaver to Boarderland as part of his present scheme. To do that, the king would’ve had to know about his and Weaver’s relationship before she left the Everlasting Forest’s Alyssian headquarters for Talon’s Point. The king would have either had to induce Weaver to abandon Molly at the headquarters and risk a journey to Talon’s Point, or he would’ve had to know, not only that she would do such a thing, but when she was going to do it. And as clever as Arch was, none of these was possible. Ripkins had stumbled upon Weaver at Talon’s Point and Arch, learning who she was, had cultivated a relationship with her in case it might one day prove useful. Which it obviously had. “I know,” Arch resumed, “that when using caterpillar silk to make a Milliner’s hat, the mix of colors and the amount of each color used have everything to do with the powers produced. I know that the stitch in which the threads are bound are equally important. I suppose what I’m saying is that different combinations of caterpillar silk produce different weapons. For example, were you to take a bit of green thread and a pebble-sized wad of yellow thread and weave them together in a butterfly stitch, you’d better be sure to have a zincon-lined container to put them in, because you’ll have produced something not unlike what recently upset Wonderland’s Crystal Continuum. I also know that each of you Milliners was taught to manufacture your own hat, as it was believed you should give birth, so to speak, to the weapon that would become an extension of yourself.” “Your knowledge befits your authority, Your Majesty,” Hatter said.
Seeing Redd
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