Malice in Wonderland Bundle 3 Read online

  And Malice fumes as she watches Humpty blushing again.

  That timid little boy is always blushing instead of taking actual action. Quite unlike Hatter, but then Hatty is bonkers. I suppose no one is perfect.

  “Okayyy...” Humpty says hesitantly, and makes eye contact with Malice.

  Malice thinks that if she makes too much of a fuss now, she’ll just come across as weak and foolish, so she simply scrunches her mouth.

  “Now it’s awkward,” Humpty says. He rubs the back of his neck again.

  “Oh, don’t be daft, silly billy,” Femurlina says. She pulls him into an embrace.

  “Awww,” the Jabberwock says, and Malice shoots him a glare.

  At first, Humpty’s arms hang limply at his side, but now, he wraps his arms around Femurlina.

  That should be me. I should be the only one comforting him!

  Malice tries not to say anything, but she can’t stop herself. “Be careful pressing against those ribs of hers, Humpty. You might pierce one of your lungs!”

  The Jabberwock chuckles at that.

  “Okay, are you all done?” the Horseman Head asks.

  Now Humpty and the skeleton girl are rocking side to side, and Femurlina is saying, “Mmmmm.”

  “Oi!” Malice shouts. “I can be considerate and consoling too, you know! I shall join in the comforting hug as well! In fact, as Queen, I command it!”

  Femurlina and Humpty seem somewhat taken aback, but let Malice join them in a group hug. Malice puts her arm around Femurlina’s back and rests her palm upon the creepy, hard bumpiness of her spine. The whole time she wishes she were clasped in a one-on-one warm hug with her dear, timid and shy Humpty.

  But it’s a pleasant enough embrace, and they make groaning and humming hug-contentment noises. “Come on, Jabberwock, you too!” Malice says.

  The Jabberwock says, “Errr, I would join you, but I don’t want to accidentally drop my head.”

  Reginald says, “You could set your head on the ground...”

  The Jabberwock says, “Well, I think they might be a bit put-off, hugging a headless body. And besides, the moment seems to have passed.”

  And indeed, the little group pulls out of their hug.

  Malice says, “Well don’t worry, Jabby, because I really believe that if we travel together to Jabberwock Valley, they’ll figure out a way to get you a new jabberwock body, so you won’t have to clop around with that borrowed, and expensive, body.”

  “Oi!” Reginald exclaims. “I happen to think it’s a mighty noble and glorious body! I’ll admit, it’s not as young as it used to be, and it’s missing one of its most handsome parts...”

  “What part is that?” Humpty asks, with such a blatantly naive expression on his face, that Malice doesn’t think he’s kidding.

  Malice groans and covers her face with her palm, as Reginald says, “Why, my head, my boy, because it is the home of my most majestic, glorious creation: my awe-inspiring mustache!”

  “It tickles when we kiss,” Femurlina says.

  Malice shudders at the mental image, even while at the same time, a part of her is oddly intrigued. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the Jabberwock’s face slip into a frown. And now she hears the Cheshire Cat behind her, saying, “Has the danger passed?”

  “Yes,” Malice says, “But don’t interrupt, scaredy cat.” To Reginald, she says, “I didn’t mean to insult your body. It’s so nice of you to let Jabby use it, though it’s not a perfect solution. But in any case, what were you saying, previously about the hat the Snark was hiding in? The Snark confessed the Hatter had nothing to do with it.”

  Reginald says, “Well, some time ago— I can’t say how many days ago, since apparently my mind was taken over, your Cook came to visit me, carrying the hat, saying it was a gift from the Hatter.”

  “Of course, the Snark confessed the Hatter had nothing to do with it.”

  “That was six days ago, Master,” Femurlina says.

  The Jabberwock says, “Thinking about that hat is what started my suspicions...Malice said the Snark had been milling about, and I thought of how differently Reginald had been acting...”

  Malice says, “Yes, you put two and two together. It was brilliant detective work.”

  The Cat says, “Jabberwock? More like Sherlock!”

  The quip causes everyone to chuckle.

  Malice says, “Oh, silly kitty, you don’t even know what we’re talking about, do you?”

  “No,” the Cat says, “but it was a good line, nonetheless.”

  “Quite,” Malice agrees. She looks down at the Horseman Head. “You said my Cook brought the hat? I was not aware of that.”

  “Here, let me lift him,” Femurlina says, “so you don’t have to strain your neck.” She picks the head up and holds it so Malice can speak to him, eye to eye.

  Malice says, “Thank you. Now, as I was saying, I was not aware the Cook was involved with the hat. Was he working with the Snark, do you think?”

  “He?” Reginald says. “Your cook is a woman!”

  “I should say not! Unless he’s been keeping more secrets from us...”

  “Perhaps there is a misunderstanding,” Reginald says. “I’m speaking of your cook named Nellie, a middle-aged woman.”

  “Oh, that minger!” the Cat says.

  Malice says, “That woman is the former Cook, who worked for the Queen of Hearts. She’s an enemy of our present cook, who’s a man. We recently had a run in with her.”

  “She tried to kill us!” Humpty says.

  Malice says, “We escaped, and almost caught her. Due to the circumstances of the last time we saw her, we thought she might be dead, but apparently that’s not the case. Do you think she was working with the Snark to try to get back at us?”

  Reginald says, “I have no idea what her intentions might have been. All I know is that she came to me saying she had a gift from the Mad Hatter and she wished to speak to me privately. I suppose I should have been more suspicious, but I sent my girls away. When we were alone, Nellie told me she had a magic invisible hat, which the Hatter had made. She said it would turn invisible when I put it on, and give the illusion that I was not wearing a hat at all. I asked her why anyone would want an invisible hat, and she umm...told me it had magical properties, which um, she wouldn’t tell me what they were. She said once I tried the hat on, I’d see. Now that I think back on it, it was strange how she was holding the hat—I couldn’t see inside. Now we know why. I gave her permission to put the hat on my head, and the next thing I know, I’m waking up in the grass with the jealous queen and the rest of you.”

  “I’m not jealous,” Malice snarls, and crosses her arms.

  The Jabberwock says, “It was the Snark’s doing. He wants to take over Wonderland. Luckily we were able to sniff him out, and get him out of your hair...so to speak.”

  “Good one!” the Cat congratulates.

  The Jabberwock thanks him.

  Reginald says, “And I am extremely grateful for your help, lad! And you, Humpty and Malice as well! Now, Cat, I’m not sure what role, if any, you played in all of this...”

  The Cat sniffs, and dryly says, “I offer you my emotional support...”

  “Splendid,” Reginald says, politely.

  Humpty says, “But it’s not over yet. The Snark has escaped and plots against us.”

  “That’s right,” Malice says. “We must take action to thwart him. And the tribe of the jabberwocks must be warned of his malevolent plans. Since there is no easy way of communication with Jabberwock Valley, that means some persons or beings must travel there to warn them...” She looks at the Jabberwock and arches her brow.

  The Jabberwock sighs dramatically.

  Malice further prods, “Persons, or monsters, who the jabberwocks would listen to, such as a fellow jabberwock and a high-ranking damsel of Wonderland.”

  The Jabberwock rolls his eyes.

  “I can’t let you go alone, if you do,” Humpty says, and Malice favors him w
ith a smile.

  Reginald says, “Yes, well, of course, I wish you only the best in your endeavors. I would hate to see the Snark in charge of anything, let alone the entirety of Wonderland. And though Malice might not be the best of all possible rulers, she is definitely better than him.”

  Malice grunts. “Am I expected to say thank you for that?”

  “No thanks are necessary, lass! As a matter of fact, I should like to show my thanks to all of you. And so, as my way of showing my gratitude, Jabberwock, I offer you one full week of free rent of my body.”

  The Jabberwock grunts and looks somewhat pained. After several long moments, he says, “Thank you.” Out of the corner of his mouth, he says, “And I hope someday to be able to return the body to you.”

  “Brilliant!” Reginald says, in a way that Malice suspects might be mocking. “And to you, Humpty, I offer you a week of free affection from Femurlina.”

  Femurlina squeals in delight, and almost claps her hands together, before realizing she’s holding Reginald’s head.

  Humpty cringes. “Really...I don’t...think...”

  Malice rescues him. “He shan’t be needing the services. But, on his behalf, I’m sure he thanks you profusely for the gesture.”

  Humpty nods and meekly says, “Yes.”

  If Femurlina’s feelings are hurt, she doesn’t let them show, as she says, “As you please.”

  “It’s like Christmas!” the Cat says. In a teasing voice he asks, “What do I get?”

  “Errr,” Reginald’s mouth twitches from side to side, causing his meticulously-waxed mustache to teeter-totter. “The servant girls shall set a saucer of milk out for you, if you wish. What did you contribute to my rescue, again?”

  “Not a thing!” the Cat says with that grin of his. “Just wanted to know what I would’ve gotten, is all. I was just joshing you. But what of Malice?”

  Reginald says, “Ah, last but definitely not least! I saved your astonishing, glorious reward for last, for dramatic effect.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  MALICE SQUEALS AND claps her hands. “Oh goody, goody!” she exclaims, overdoing it a lot in order to make everybody laugh. She scrunches her face and hops up and down. “What is it? What is it?!”

  She was successful, and they’re all laughing at her performance—even Femurlina is.

  Reginald, however, is not—he looks very grave and serious, with an almost-scowl he is trying to hide. “I understand you are merely being mirthful, and I do not begrudge you for that, but the honor I am about to bestow upon you is quite profound.”

  Malice straightens her posture. “Yes, of course.” She mimics his stern expression.

  The silly thought of what she would look like with his mustache flashes through her mind, causing the edges of her mouth to turn up slightly in a smile, before she reasserts her stern-face.

  Reginald proclaims, “For your aid in restoring me to the full control of my own head again, I grant you the gift of allowing you to touch my glorious mustache!”

  Malice giggles.

  The Cat says, “Ooooh.”

  And Humpty says, “I’m not sure I understand.”

  Malice winks at him. “What is there to understand?” She makes a flourished hand sweep toward Reginald’s face. “Merely gaze upon the sight of the most glorious pieces of upper lip hair in all of Wonderland!”

  Reginald grins.

  Malice continues, on a roll, as she feels the influence of the black rose injecting her with dark poetry. “One can only attempt to take in all of the supreme splendor of its majesty, merely with one’s sense of vision alone. And even the sight of it is enough to overwhelm one with a sense of smallness that consumes those who gaze upon a creation so grand and unfathomably majestic!”

  Reginald smiles bigger.

  “That’s an awful lot of majesty!” the Cat exclaims, with such feeling in his voice, that Malice thinks he might not be joking.

  Malice continues, “Oh, but it is the texture of the Creation that the unfortunate souls who can only gaze upon it shall never know. And it is with great humility and reverence that I accept your gift of letting me stroke the stache.”

  “Stache?” Reginald says.

  “Short for ‘mustache’,” Malice replies.

  “Ah, very good.” Out of the corner of his mouth, Reginald says, “Get ready to bow my head.” Now he returns his attention to Malice as he says, “It is my pleasure to bestow upon you the great honor of touching my stache, for I am so grateful to you for freeing me from the Snark’s control. Now, please...partake of my stache.” Out of the corner of his mouth, he whispers, “Now,” and Femurlina tips his head forward in a bow gesture.

  He swishes his mouth, making his mustache perform a jerky little dance.

  Malice’s jaw drops in wonder. “So beautiful...in a masculine way. Handsome, I mean. I wish I had the hormones to grow one, but even if I did, it could never match yours.” She bows her head at him.

  She takes two steps closer to the Horseman Head. She lifts her hand, and is embarrassed to realize that it’s trembling. She reaches toward it, but doesn’t touch it.

  Malice forces herself to breathe steadily and focus on her momentous task. The rest of the group watches in solemn anticipation.

  “Go on,” Reginald coos.

  And so she touches it with the tip of her finger. It is stiff and slightly moist from the wax.

  “I can’t believe I’m actually touching it,” she whispers as she feels a tingly sensation on the tip of her finger. Is that from my excitement, or from something else? She takes a chance of pressing her middle finger against the mustache as well, and she softly strokes it. Her head snaps back as if she were struck. “I feel a surge...of energy!” she says.

  Reginald says, “That’s the power of the stache.”

  Malice hears the Cat next to her, quietly mutter to himself, “Crikey.”

  Malice says, “It’s the black rose, it’s drawing forth the power of the mustache...and the rose is connecting with its power, mixing with it.” She lets out a little scream of pain as the electric feeling becomes too intense and she jerks her hand away.

  Her arm feels as if it is on pins and needles.

  “What’s wrong?” the Cat says.

  Meanwhile Humpty says, “Are you okay?”

  And Malice closes her eyes, luxuriating in the sensation—it is like a drunken bubble bath of darkness all over her body. It is the feeling the black rose brings, though it’s not as powerful as the first time she took it.

  Oh, how I’ve missed this feeling.

  “Nothing is wrong, blokes. I’m more than okay, I’m smashing,” she says in a purry voice.

  She feels a devious, quirky dark grin stretching the edges of her mouth.

  “I’m glad?” Humpty says with his voice sounding somewhat fearful.

  The Cat says, “Girl, you look wasted.”

  Malice opens her eyes to see the Cat’s head floating in front of her face. He looks a bit blurry and seems to be shifting.

  Slowly, she speaks, with her tongue feeling a little slow and numb: “I’ve just connected with the lip hair’s power. The black rose has allowed me to experience the mustache on a truly deep, fundamental level.”

  Reginald says, “It’s quite lovely, isn’t it?”

  “Indeed,” Malice says. “Thank you for granting me the profound honor of touching it.”

  “Of course, Your Highness!” Reginald says. “For you see, I’m ever-so-grateful for you ridding me of the nuisance of that squidish Snark!”

  “Sodding Snark!” the Cat exclaims in agreement.

  Femurlina adds, “If I’d’ve known he was controlling you, I’d’ve shot him, Master.”

  “Thank you,” Reginald says.

  Malice jerks her head up, feeling a darkly thrilling sensation rising up within her. “How curious,” she murmurs, as she stares straight ahead with unfocused eyes.

  She sees the blurry blob shape of the Cat’s head whiz out in front of her,
but can’t be bothered to focus her dazed-out eyes. The Cat says, “What’s the issue with you, Miss Zoneout?”

  In a monotone voice, Malice says, “I feel it inside, yearning and churning, twirling and swirling...”

  “What is it?”

  “The dark poetry of the black rose...inspired by the glory of the stache.”

  Reginald chuckles. “Brilliant!”

  Malice says, “I feel it welling up inside of me, like a great tide of words...”

  Gasps all around, and the Cat says, “Blimey.”

  “This poem is called, “Touching the stache.”

  And with a theatrical voice, speaking the way one should when reciting poetry, she speaks without having to really think up the words:

  ~*TOUCHING THE STACHE*~

  THERE WAS A TIME WHEN it was at arm’s length.

  The distance spared me from its awesome strength!

  To merely gaze at it will fill your mind with wonder,

  But touching it will tear your soul asunder!

  ITS HAIRS ARE LIKE petals upon the black rose,

  For, like petals, the hairs all together compose

  A frightening artwork you’d best not get too near,

  Or they’ll wreck your fond notions of what you hold dear.

  BUT I AM GLAD TO HAVE lost my naivety

  To the coiffed petals of masculinity.

  Just like I am glad that my corrupted nose,

  Is ruined for all other flowers that aren’t the black rose!

  AND SO I PRAISE THE mustache, and quake at it!

  And cower at its might! And worship it!

  A proud display, a sweet dismay, the glory of the stache!

  Like peacock tail, like fairy trail, the beauty of the stache!

  AFTER THE COMPLETION of her poem, a stunned silence follows.

  Malice meets their eyes (or eye sockets in Femurlina’s case). “Behold,” she says quietly. “That’s the power of dark poetry.”