Malice in Wonderland Bundle 3 Page 14

Malice smooths her black dress. “That wouldn’t be very dignified. I’m a queen. And I’m not sullen.”

  Hatter rolls his eyes. “Very well. I shall commence my yelling now.”

  “Please do,” Malice says.

  Hatter cups his hands around his mouth and yells into the cave, “Knight! The Queen is here, you daft git! She wishes to speak to you about joining her on an adventure, ya lily-livered sod. And she can’t be bothered with your daft obstacles! So haul your bum out here! Your Queen awaits!”

  And now Hatter beams Malice a smile. “How was that?”

  “Why were you so insulting?” Malice says.

  Hatter blinks at her for several seconds. “I thought it was what was expected of me.”

  “It wasn’t,” Malice says.

  “I found it quite lively,” the Cat says.

  Humpty sighs loudly while Malice glares at the Cat.

  And now from inside the cave, comes a man’s voice, shouting, “Allay your misplaced anger and aggression, Hatter.”

  “What’s that, Froud?” Hatter shouts.

  Malice recalls Froud as the gnome psychotherapist who inspected her ticktock heart. The gnome’s voice shouts out, “In other words, hold your horses! It takes time for me to walk the length of this cave! I can’t magically teleport like that passive-aggressive, egotistical Cat!”

  The Cat shouts, “Spare us the psychobabbly gobbledygook, you quack!”

  “Quack?” Froud’s voice shouts. “Blast you, you confounded feline, and your sociopathic antagonism. What happened to you in your formative stages, to cause you to project your self-loathing outward?!”

  Malice and Humpty glance at each other, and the unspoken message they share with each other is, “What is that guy even on about? Was what he said, even words?”...at least that’s what Malice tries to convey, but since it’s nonverbal, Humpty might not get her exact message.

  But he nods as if he understands.

  Malice looks at Hatter and he shrugs, and the expression on his face conveys the unspoken message to her of, “Hey, I don’t know what he’s talking about, either, but he’s always like this, so I’ve stopped fighting it.” At least that’s Malice’s interpretation—it might not be literal, or word-for-word.

  She hears footsteps from inside, echoing off the stone walls, and growing louder.

  Froud says, “Alrighty then, here I am, ya blasted neurotic buggers!”

  He walks out from inside the darkness of the cave, now. A waft of smoke floats out in front of him. He’s a gnome. He looks like a short, four foot tall man with a pug nose and a long white beard, smoking a large cigar that looks huge on him. He wears a dapper pin stripe suit. A gold watch chain dangles from his breast pocket.

  Froud sees Humpty looking at him and he waves his cigar through the air, sending out swirling plumes of smoke. He says, “Yah, yah. I’m a cigar-smoking gnome and you’re jealous of my vest. But be careful about externalizing scrutiny in order to avoid self-reflection.”

  “Errr. Okay?” Humpty says.

  Froud turns his head to Hatter. “Have you been keeping up with your psychological exercises? Recording your dreams?”

  Hatter sneers. “Why? So I can be cured? I rather fancy my madness.”

  Froud says, “So you say. You may even believe you do, but subconsciously, you don’t. But it’s not just about that—the exercises can help you resolve conflicts in your interpersonal relationships.” He glances briefly at Malice before looking away.

  What have those two been saying about me?

  “Pish posh,” Hatter says. “The fact of the matter is we’re not here for me and my madness. The Queen is here to invite the good Knight on an adventure.”

  Froud seems distracted with scrutinizing Humpty, who has started blushing.

  Froud says, “I say, my boy, what psychological issues do you have? You seem to be experiencing anxiety, presently.”

  “Lack of assertiveness, perhaps,” Malice says.

  “Ah, I see!” Froud says. “I’d love to try out some new therapies on the lad, but as for you...” He looks to Malice. “The Knight still hasn’t resolved his parthenophobia.”

  “But you see, I’m not a little girl...”

  “Yes,” says Froud, “I can tell by your...physical characteristics, but we are dealing with an irrational phobia here, and you are a subconscious representation of the mother figure who symbolically ‘killed’ the child by distancing herself from him during his adolescence.”

  Malice struggles to understand his words. “Wait, are you talking about where his phobia came from? It came from Alice, not because she symbolically killed, but because she actually did kill him, literally.”

  Froud sniffs. “Yes, symbolically as well as literally. But I doubt you have the training to understand such nuances. The fact of the matter is that the Knight will only speak to you if you go through the course of challenges. He believes that if you make it through, then it shall mean you no longer have any little girl inside you. And so he shall be much calmer when he speaks to you.”

  Malice sighs loudly. “The Knight is mental.”

  Froud says, “Yes, even he admits it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but he is in the grip of a deep-seated unresolved inner conflict with a representational mother figure.”

  “Oh, sod it!” Malice says. “He’s scared of little girls because a little girl killed him!”

  Froud taps his chin. “Doesn’t that explanation strike you as a bit too...obvious? It is the sort of conclusion an untrained amateur would leap to.”

  The Cat snarls, “We could test the theory. She could snap your neck and see if you develop a phobia of her.”

  Malice chuckles. “Oh, hush you.”

  “But it made you laugh,” the Cat says. “Usually, you’d scold.”

  “Yes,” Malice says, “it’s the black rose in me. Get used to me being this way, I suppose.”

  Froud exhales a puff of smoke he’d been inhaling, and coughs. “The black rose, you say?”

  “Why, yes,” Malice says. “You could say I’ve been using it to treat a certain psychological disorder I had, of occasional bouts of heartlessness. But now I’m fixed because of it, and all without having to explore my subconscious at all.”

  Humpty chimes in, “Yes, she’s been much more stable of late!”

  Froud says, “But of course! The black rose has massive therapeutic capabilities because of its effects upon the mind. I have read a great deal about it in my studies. I find its reported effects most intriguing and scrumptious! In fact, I believe the black rose’s influence is exactly what is warranted in this case. There is a kind of therapy that makes use of the black rose’s properties, that I think shall be extremely useful in this case. I daresay I think I may be able to cure the Knight of his phobia once and for all!”

  Dryly, Hatter says, “I would truly be impressed if you managed to cure him...or anyone.”

  Malice says, “The black rose can help? But I only have enough for myself...”

  “That’s of no concern, young lady!” Froud says. “The therapeutic session would be a one time event to resolve his unresolved internal issues. The rose shall help him bring his subconscious thoughts to the surface to connect with yours.”

  “Wait, he’s to connect with my thoughts? I hope it isn’t in the same manner that the Snark ‘connects with others thoughts’!”

  “No, nothing like that. But the effects of the black rose can be very powerful, in a therapeutic setting. Of course, I shall guide the process using my profound skills and experience during the therapy session.”

  “Sounds like mumbo jumbo to me,” Hatter says.

  “Codswallop,” the Cat says.

  “What if it makes him worse?” Humpty says.

  Malice sighs. “How much black rose would it take? I brought a wee bit with me...”

  Froud’s eyes widen. “You brought some? From what I’ve read, it wouldn’t take much. You’d both have to dose, then engage in certain exercises so you ca
n play off each other’s thoughts. You must follow where the black rose takes you, and where that shall be, is anyone’s guess. And um, I should take a dose of the black rose as well.”

  “What?” Malice says. “Why should you? I thought it was only the Knight’s and my subconsciouses that needed to be connected.”

  The Cat says, “Methinks he just wishes to be darkly drunk himself.”

  Froud says, “Utterly preposterous. I merely think it would help if I was in a similar state, for it would help me better get in tune with their needs in order to guide the process.”

  Malice peers closely at Froud, who shrugs. Malice thinks he might be lying, but she isn’t completely sure. She’ll have to be wary of him. She says, “I’m not so sure about that. Perhaps you need to keep level-headed to guide this so-called therapy of yours.”

  Froud says, “If it’ll ease your mind, I could take some of the black rose now. That way I’ll be more aware of what you’ll be going through, but it’ll wear off by the time you get through the challenges.”

  “Not blooming likely!” Malice says. “The effects of the rose lasts many days.”

  “I can vouch for that,” Hatter says.

  “Yeah, you’ll still be well walloped,” says the Cat.

  “But surely the effects will be lessened,” Froud says.

  “Clam it shut!” Malice shouts. “I shan’t waste any of the black rose on you before I meet the knight, in case he decides to chicken out, or refuse the treatment for some reason.”

  Froud says, “But I believe it shall be essential for me to take some, because—”

  Malice waves her hand through the air dismissively. “Enough with your long-winded explanations.” She turns to Hatter, and says, “You say he treated you? Is he competent or just some quack?”

  Hatter thinks for a bit. “Oh, he is a most competent quack, in my opinion.”

  Malice groans. “Could he truly cure the Knight, do you think, with that black rose therapy he was on about?”

  Froud opens his mouth to say something, but Malice holds up a warning finger to quiet him.

  After some thought, Hatter says, “I very well think he could. But I admit, I resisted his treatments in the past.”

  Froud says, “There are those who don’t feel the need to be normalized, I suppose.”

  “Quite,” Hatter says with a nod. “I rather fancy my madness. I don’t consider it such a malady. In fact, I once heard the good shrink here slip once and refer to it as my ‘divine madness’ once. But of course he seemed frightfully embarrassed immediately afterward, and never again uttered the phrase in my presence.”

  Humpty says, “Morley often speaks of the divine madness of poets and such.”

  Froud looks flustered, “I never said such a thing. As a psychiatrist it is my duty to abolish madness, not to glorify it, therefore it is only logical I never said that, and that Hatter here is being irrational.” He looks at Hatter with an expression of pity. “Sorry, old chap.”

  Malice says, “Yes, I’m sure he’s mistaken, but he trusts that you’re competent enough to cure the Knight, so I shall put my trust in your guidance, for I very much wish the Knight to join us. But I stand by my decision not to give you any black rose until I meet with the Knight. The flower doesn’t grow on trees after all.”

  Her little quip brings forth some chuckles, except for from Froud, who still looks uncomfortable. “But—”

  “No more ‘buts’!” Malice shouts and stomps her foot. “I am the Queen and I have made my decision. So I shall go through this little ‘anti-little-girl’ obstacle course of his, and I’m sure I shall defeat it all handily! Come on lads, it shall be a jolly good time, and a little test of how we work together as a team, before our bigger adventure out in the wild! So let’s go, you wiley bunch of blokes.”

  Hatter starts giggling, which makes the Cat chuckle.

  And Humpty takes on a crooked little grin. And meekly, he says, “Hip hip...”

  “Hooray!” Malice shouts, and she punches her fist in the air.

  “Hip hip!” Humpty shouts, with much more gusto, this time.

  “Hooray!” the rest of the group (except for Froud) shouts.

  And they enter the cave of “Everything the opposite of little girls”.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  THEY CAN’T SEE VERY far ahead, due to a curve in the cave and the murky darkness, even though there are torches dimly lighting the cave with their flickering light.

  Up ahead, the head of a man with a mustache pokes out from around the bend in the cave, before ducking back.

  The Knight’s voice calls out, “Queen Malice! My how you’ve grown!”

  Malice shouts back, “Yes, no need to be afraid.”

  “I am not merely afraid. I have a condition. A phobia that arose from a traumatic experience, isn’t that right, Froud?”

  Froud nods. “It’s a pathology.”

  Malice shouts, “But I’m 15 now. No longer am I a little girl. So there’s no need for me to go through your silly challenge course.”

  “You might still be little on the inside!” the Knight shouts in a shrill voice.

  “Oh, fiddle-faddle!” Malice shouts and stomps her foot. “I came to invite you on an adventure!”

  “Adventure? With you?”

  “Yes, with me. And others, to help the Jabberwock. Oh, won’t you quit hiding in your cave and come talk to me?”

  Slowly, the Knight pokes his head out around the curve in the cave, now he steps out and stands fifteen feet away, with his hands covering his eyes. He looks just as Malice remembered him: An older man in black armor, with a sword in a scabbard at his side, not wearing a helmet, and with a floppy white mustache.

  The Cat gives forth a stage laugh. “Scaredy cat!”

  Hatter says, “I think he’s shivering.”

  Malice says, “Oh, do uncover your eyes won’t you! I won’t bite.”

  The Knight makes a whimpery sound to himself that he attempts to hide. “No, you’ll just snap my neck!”

  “Oh, you’re still hung up on that? That wasn’t even me. It was Alice!”

  “Yeah!” the Knight shouts. “And you’re just like her! And just so you know, I’m covering my eyes to avoid hurting them with the bright light, since it was so dark back there.”

  To her left, Malice hears Humpty mutter under his breath, “Poor sod.”

  Now Froud pipes up. “Now, what did I tell you about the importance of honesty in your recovery?”

  The Knight grunts, straightens his shoulders as if to gather courage. “Okay, I’m afraid of Malice. I don’t even want to look at her. No offense intended. I’m rather embarrassed about it, really. Perhaps Her Highness might be better served by another knight? I recently encountered one by the name of the Tin Knight.”

  Malice gasps. “The Tin Knight? Was he searching for the ticktock heart?”

  The Knight shrugs while still covering his eyes. “He was a rather tight-lipped bloke. Said he was in Wonderland on a secret mission. Wouldn’t tell me where he came from, or anything. But we got along well enough. I gave him something of my own invention.”

  “What?” Malice says.

  “Um, I can’t remember if that was one of the things he swore me to secrecy about. Oops, actually he made me swear not to mention him at all. Promise not to tell him, eh?”

  Malice groans. “Where can I find him, if I want him to join our team, then?”

  “He wouldn’t say, plus he swore me to secrecy. Oops, I mean, someone swore me to secrecy about some matter...or perhaps another.”

  Malice groans. “Did he seem angry? And what did he look like?”

  “I am a knight who is always loyal to his oaths. And assuming I took one, it’s a secret.”

  “Oh, fiddlesticks,” Hatter says. “Do you wish to join us on our adventure or not? It’s quite alright if you don’t, just don’t waste our time, old chap.”

  While still holding his hands over his eyes, the Knight says, “I’ll join you
if Her Royal Highness proves she no longer harbors any remnants of little girlness within.”

  Malice huffs. “Why should I have to prove anything to you? I’m doing you a favor by offering you the opportunity to join us on our grand adventure.”

  “My apologies, My Queen,” says the Knight. “I don’t mean to unduly impose, but I would feel ever-so-much safer if you went through the course of challenges. I am fully aware my imposition is neither rational nor reasonable.”

  Malice groans, mulling it over.

  Hatter whispers to her, “I thought you wanted to go through the course. A good challenge, you said, right?”

  Malice keeps her voice down as she says, “Yes, but that was before the Knight imposed. I quite despise doing things that are expected of me, you know?”

  “Oh, quit being such a priss,” the Cat whispers, butting into their conversation.

  “No one was talking to you!” Malice shouts in a whisper, while attempting to poke the Cat in the forehead, but the Cat floats away while hissing.

  “Perhaps it’s not worth the bother,” Humpty offers meekly.

  “Well...” Malice says while contemplating.

  Froud butts in, sounding a bit panicked, with, “I’m sure the Knight would be extremely grateful if you did this great favor for him. And I’ve no doubt you’ll enjoy the black rose therapy afterward. A bit of an excuse to imbibe, don’t you think?” He grins.

  “Well...” Malice says, whilst tapping her chin. “It’s true that partaking of the black rose’s darkly sweet enrapture is most alluring.”

  Froud stares at her for several long seconds, seemingly smitten by her words. But now he snaps out of it, and says, “Indeed.” He shouts out, “I told her you’d be supremely grateful if she were to go through your tests. Isn’t that correct?”

  “Oh yes!” the Knight shouts back. “I would worship you as a queen!...assuming, of course, that you’re able to pass.”

  The Cat lets loose a chortle, as Malice shouts, “Of course I’ll be able to pass your silly little game, you presumptuous clod! I shall slay it like you would claim to slay a dragon. I shall handle it handily for I...we, are fierce warriors, not some bunch of bumbling, weak...” She pauses searching for a word in her rage-addled brain.