Malice in Wonderland Bundle 3 Page 16

  Froud nods. “The Knight feels that surely, no little girl would be able to tolerate all the little boy things.” He smirks. “But we all know the Knight is a bit daft. But know, if you choose the pink side, no harm shall come to you and there will be no shame in going for all those girly things. After all, you’re still somewhat of a little girl, right?” He arches his brow.

  Malice scowls. “No, I’m not. I do hope the Knight appreciates all the bother I’m putting myself through simply to provide him the honor of joining our team. But I shan’t risk my life. That mud is icky and the fire could kill me, which would negate the purpose of him joining my team, since I’d be dead.”

  Froud says, “The fire is harmless—the non-hot kind that fake magicians use. The mud is...muddy, yes.”

  “Oh,” Malice says. “And the slug is...ugh.”

  “Yes, and it’s covered in slime. The Knight feels no little girl would be able to stand...um, standing upon it.”

  Malice can’t help but smile, before saying, “But it’s not real.”

  “Yes, well he was unable to procure an actual giant slug and snail for his challenge. But he felt even the representation of one would be enough to repel any little girl.”

  “But I’m a girl, and even though I’m not a little girl, perhaps I’d still be repelled by such grossness. Did he think of that?”

  Froud shrugs. “It’s the Knight’s way of thinking,” he says apologetically.

  “And even a man would avoid such challenges. For example, a dapper gentleman would not wish to be drenched in mud.”

  Froud shrugs again. “Just be glad the Knight didn’t base his challenge on the jabberwock version of the song.”

  Malice says, “Yes, you mentioned that before, and I should very much like to hear it. Would you be so kind as to sing it for me? And be sure to do a little dance as well...” She smirks.

  “I shall certainly sing it for you, though my singing’s atrocious. But I shan’t dance, for my dancing’s even worse.”

  “Oh, that’s no fun,” Malice says, and pouts. She looks to Hatter and Humpty for consolation. Hatter shrugs, and Humpty lifts his hands palms up in the air. The Cat, feeling ignored, swoops in front of her face, but she continues to ignore him, causing him to hiss.

  Meanwhile, Froud takes a deep breath of preparation, and sings (quite off key):

  “What are little jabberwock boys made of?

  Fangs and nails, and little girls’ entrails,

  That’s what little jabberwock boys are made of!”

  “I say!” Hatter says, alarmed.

  “Brilliant!” the Cat exclaims.

  Froud continues singing:

  “And what are little jabberwock girls made of?”

  He stops his singing and looks around, fishing for a response.

  “Praytell, what?” Malice shouts, obliging him.

  Froud grins, and sings:

  “Sugar and spice, and a throat-slitting slice!

  That’s what little jabberwock girls are made of!”

  Hatter exclaims, “Crikey! Such violence!”

  The Cat says, “I agree! How splendid!”

  Humpty lets out a little whimper and presses his hand to his throat.

  Malice shoots him a comforting smile, before placing her hand on her hip, and saying, “Well, I’m glad the challenges aren’t based on the jabberwock version. But if they were, there’d still be cookies and cake, correct? Because of the sugar and spice bit.”

  “Most likely,” Froud says.

  Malice says, “But slug and snails are preferable to fangs and nails and entrails.”

  “Are they truly?” says the Cat.

  Froud says to Malice, “Yes, so be glad you’re a human, and not a jabberwock. So have you made your decision?”

  Malice sighs. “The Knight thinks I’m too much of a little girl to make it through the little boys’ side. So I shall simply have to prove him wrong. And he better appreciate what I’m putting myself through.”

  “I’m sure he shall,” Froud says.

  Humpty says, “Maybe it’s not worth the bother, just to get the Knight to join. More trouble than it’s worth.”

  But Malice doesn’t acknowledge his words—she’s staring at the mud, the icky mud.

  “Malice?” prods Hatter.

  Malice is still staring at that pool of murky, brown muck. “Let’s do this. Enough chit chat and singing. It’s time to get our hands and clothes dirty.”

  She stomps with determination into the left side, and says, “Let’s enter this tunnel of masculinity and vanquish it. Come, come boys.”

  And they hasten to follow her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  MALICE STARES DOWN at the murky pool of mud at her feet.

  Froud says, “Surely you must turn back now before it’s too late! Surely no little girl would be able to tolerate getting so dingy and dirty, for they prefer to be dainty and clean and nice-smelling.”

  Malice scowls at him and says, “There are many who would love to frolic in mud. So quit your stereotyping.”

  Froud shrugs. “You don’t have to convince me. But the Knight quite insisted that I deliver certain speeches before each obstacle, so I have an obligation.”

  “Whatever,” Malice says. “Is it deep?” she says, referring to the mud.

  “Don’t worry,” Froud says. “It’s not deep enough to drown you, but just deep enough to get you quite muddy. Does the idea of getting so dirty repulse you?”

  “I must admit, I don’t relish the prospect. But it seems I have committed myself.”

  “It’s not too late,” Froud says.

  Humpty says, “Yes, don’t let the Knight impose on you to such a degree. It’s quite rude if you ask me.”

  “It’s only mud,” the Cat mutters.

  “And fire!” Hatter says, whilst pointing at the vase.

  “Harmless fire,” the Cat says, and Hatter crosses his arms and averts his gaze.

  “Well...” Malice says, whilst tapping her chin, “these obstacles are specifically meant to challenge me specifically. If you two should wish to stay behind...”

  Hatter’s expression brightens. “Well...” he says, tentatively.

  Malice scowls. “I say, if you wish to stay behind...cast aside such notions at once! If I should be forced to suffer these indignities, then surely shall you have to suffer along with me! And after all, it is merely a little mud and fake fire, so suck it up!... Righto?”

  Hatter is looking down at the ground. “Righto,” he says, defeatedly.

  Malice looks at Humpty, and says, “And you?”

  “Oh, I’m honored to suffer along with you,” he says sarcastically.

  “That’s the spirit!” Malice shouts. “And you, Froud? Shall you join us in our splash?”

  But Froud shakes his head. “That drawbridge shall lower once your lot have gone through. For you see, I’m your guide of sorts, I’m not meant to suffer everything alongside you, you see?”

  “Quite,” Malice says, with a crinkled nose.

  Froud claps his hands together. “So, shall we commence the Trials of Mud, Fire, and Slug? Are you ready to wade in? Unless you’re too much of a little girl, that is...”

  “No need to goad me,” Malice says as she looks down at the mud.

  “I’ve been instructed to,” Froud says.

  “Poppycock. You’re the therapist aren’t you? You’re in charge in your relationship.”

  “Nevertheless,” Froud merely says, and it is clear he’s waiting on her.

  “It’s quite dirty, isn’t it?” Malice says, whilst biting her lip.

  “Quite muddy, yes,” the Cat says teasingly.

  “So who shall go first?” Malice says.

  The Cat says, “This obstacle course is all about you, so shouldn’t it be you?”

  Malice looks up at him and sticks her tongue out, causing him to snicker.

  Hatter says, “I would go first, seeing as how I’m a gentleman, but I’m concerned that you’
ll back out and I’ll be left in the mud, no offense, My Queen.”

  “Hrrmph,” Malice says.

  Humpty says, “Perhaps if we all jumped in at once...”

  Malice nods. “Yes, like at a lake.”

  The Cat says, “I don’t jump in water. I’m a cat.”

  “You don’t do much,” Malice says. She holds her hands out. “Come on, lads. We’ve tarried too long, already.”

  They take her hands, each standing on one side of her. She notices Hatter’s hand is shaking. Humpty on the literal other hand, has a grim look of determination upon his face.

  “I shall count down from three,” Malice says.

  Humpty nods.

  Hatter mutters, “So dirty. My clothing...”

  Malice says, “Just be grateful you aren’t wearing what I have to. Now, let’s go. 3...” She starts swinging her arms. “2... 1!”

  They all shout as they unenthusiastically jump in.

  They slosh into the mud, and their feet sink down about three feet before coming to rest upon a hard surface.

  Above their heads, the Cat floats, cackling at them.

  Malice feels the soppy lower part of her dress clinging to her legs. “Ahhh!” she cries.

  Hatter joins in and moans along with her.

  Humpty says, “There, it’s not so bad, now, is it?”

  Hatter proclaims, “Not so bad? It’s atrocious! Utterly filthy. I’m only glad that my hat remains unmolested.”

  Humpty says, “There’s the positive thinking, mate! At least our heads are above mud, right?”

  Malice says, “And I’m almost glad to see the ugliness of this dress covered up somewhat. But I find this ickiness most unbecoming for a queen, so please allow me a moment to wallow in my misery.”

  “Wallow!” the Cat shouts, and laughs.

  “Like wallow in mud?” Humpty says, catching on a few seconds too late.

  Malice says, “That pun was intentional, of course. But let’s make our way to the other side!”

  Froud calls out, “It’s still not too late to turn back.”

  “No!” Malice shouts. “I’m already filthy. Bring on the fire.” She sloshes and wades forward, hoping she doesn’t slip, and the two guys join her, placing a hand on each of her shoulders to steady her.

  But she stops her stride as she feels it coming over her—that feeling she yearns for—she closes her eyes.

  “Malice? Are you okay?” Hatter asks.

  “I’m splendid,” she says. She raises her arms. “I feel the black rose’s inspiration rising within. It’s like I’m drunk on darkness.”

  “Well, good on ya,” Hatter says, sounding doubtful. “But let’s get out of this mud, yeah, love?”

  “We’re already mucky,” Malice says. “A few more moments won’t hurt us. I wish to relay to you my poetic notions.”

  The Cat shouts, “Poetic notions. Splendid!”

  Hatter mutters, “I suppose it’s better than pathetic potions.”

  “Prepare to witness profundity,” Malice says. She begins searching her mind, trying to grasp ideas in her racing, intoxicated mind.

  She begins to shudder.

  Hatter says, “I say, my girl, why are you shaking?”

  “Are you alright?” Humpty says.

  “It’s the black rose,” the Cat says.

  “Yes,” Malice says. Her eyes are still closed, she is focused on capturing the words, the poetry fleeting through her mind. “A lotus...mud...rising...like a little girl...”

  “What’s that, love?” Hatter says, sounding concerned.

  “Perhaps it’s not healthy for you to do this,” Humpty says.

  Malice’s eyes pop open and she stares out with unfocused eyes. “It’s okay, love. It’s the poetry filling me. It’s beautiful...so beautiful.” Her eyes roll upward in her eye sockets, she arches her back. “I see it now. The journey...”

  She proclaims:

  “WHEN THE LOTUS GROWS, it first shall wade through mud,

  Much like a boy who doth rebuke bath suds.

  I am no boy, but now I’m a big girl,

  Was once a bud but now I am unfurled.

  FOR, LIKE THE LOTUS grows from mud, to sprout,

  So too, the little girl grows up and out.

  The lotus lifts from mud to sit higher,

  And I’ll leave the muck as well, to jump in fire.”

  MALICE LOWERS HER HANDS and head, and her eyes focus on the other side of the mud pit, and the vase beyond it. She wades forward through the mud.

  “Hold on, wait for us!” Humpty cries, as the Cat says, “That was brilliant!”

  “Thank you,” Malice says. “Darlings...” She gives each of the guys a sweet smile. “Care to pluck me out from the muck? I’m afraid my dress is too bogged down to allow me to lift myself up whilst still maintaining my Queenly Grace.”

  Hatter says, “Certainly, My Queen, but I’m not confident I can get out from this muck with much grace, myself.”

  Humpty says, “Me neither. No, not much grace, though I wish to save face. Oh bother, Malice is much better at poetry than me. What else rhymes with grace?”

  Hatter says, “Race? So you seek to challenge me in a race?”

  “What? No. I—”

  “Well you shall get what you’re asking for, then. Begin!” He grasps the edge of the moat.

  The Cat says, “And the loser must jump completely into the pool? None of this ‘only partially covering yourself’ tomfoolery.”

  “What? No!” Humpty says as he grasps the edge. “I was just rhyming!”

  “Just a friendly contest. May the man who wins be best.” Hatter grunts out as he struggles to lift his leg up over the edge.

  “Best hurry, if you wish to win,” Malice says to Humpty. “But as you do it, don’t give in, to sin, or a jinn.” She claps her hands. “Go, go, go.”

  “But what punishment does the loser receive?” the Cat says.

  Malice watches as Humpty struggles to lift his leg up and over, as well. “The winner gets a kiss from me!” she proclaims.

  “Phooey,” the Cat says. “What use is that?”

  The guys don’t have time to respond as Humpty manages to get his legs up over the edge and slides along the ground to a victory.

  Hatter has slipped back into the mud—he lets out a shout of frustration and defeat.

  Humpty slides along the ground to face her, and through panting breaths, says, “What? I never agreed to a...kiss.” He gulps and almost chokes as he says the word.

  The Cat says, “Too late! You have to take it now!”

  Humpty just throws him a huffy sound, without bothering to look up at him.

  Hatter says to Humpty, “Give me a lift, mate?”

  Froud shouts a bit too loudly, “A kiss? I’d be honored to receive the kiss in his stead. A small payment for all my help.”

  The fact that she’d momentarily forgotten about him, combined with the loudness of his utterance, causes Malice to startle. But she barely acknowledges his words, hoping he’ll shut up, since she has absolutely no desire to kiss him.

  She watches as Humpty holds Hatter’s hands, helping to pull Hatter up.

  “There you go,” she encourages.

  The Cat says to Froud, “Why on earth would she wish to kiss you? You smell like cigars!”

  He’s stirring up trouble again, Malice thinks, before shooting the Cat a glare.

  Surprisingly, the Cat gives her a little nod of apology.

  Humpty pulls Hatter up with a forceful yank, causing Hatter to flop onto his back as a result.

  The two guys slide around a bit in their muddy state. It reminds Malice of fish out of water, and she giggles at the thought.

  Hatter sits up and says, “Having a laugh, are you, love?”

  Malice says, “It’s just that I’m so utterly pleased to see you’ve gotten out of your muddy predicament.”

  Froud says, “My word, I don’t understand why he would so rudely refuse your kiss. I daresay if you
gave me the kiss instead, it would likely make the lad jealous, as he no doubt deserves to be!”

  Malice ignores him, saying, “So now you two strong lads can help me up.”

  “Oh, I shall help, Your Highness!” Froud blurts. “Lower the drawbridge!”

  The Knight’s muffled shout calls out, “Timber!”

  The ropes release and the small drawbridge slams down into the cave floor.

  “Let’s get you out of there,” Hatter says to Malice as Froud scurries across the bridge.

  “Yes, let’s,” Froud says. He tosses his cigar into the mud.

  Humpty scowls. “We’re the ones who had to wade through, so we’re the ones who shall help her up.”

  “Yes,” Hatter agrees. “Don’t overexert yourself after running across that bridge, lad.”

  Humpty and Hatter both lower a hand for Malice to grab a hold of.

  Meanwhile the Cat is teasing Froud, saying, “If you jump in the mud as well, it’ll be a show of solidarity.”

  But Froud ignores the feline.

  As Malice grabs a hold of Humpty’s and Hatter’s hand, Froud buzzes about like a gnat. “Let me help! Let me help!”

  Malice says, “Unfortunately, I only have two hands, and not enough time to grow another!”

  Hatter chuckles at that. “Brilliant!”

  The Cat says to Froud, “Perhaps you should jump in the mud and help by pushing her!”

  Froud sneers. “No I shall help pull...” He makes as if to grab Humpty around the waist, but backs off when he sees how muddy Humpty is.

  The Cat laughs. “Scared of the mud! Perhaps you’re the only little girl here.”

  Hatter rolls his eyes at Froud’s behavior, now says to Malice, “Let’s pull you up.” He looks to Humpty, says, “Ready? Set? Go!”

  Malice is pulled up and set upon the ground. The lower part of her dress is drenched with brown mud, and she almost slips and falls. “Oh!” she cries out as Humpty steadies her.

  “Oh, thank you!” she says.

  “You’re welcome. Wouldn’t want you to fall,” he says.

  Malice gives him a crooked grin. “Now for your prize...” she coos.