Malice in Wonderland Bundle 3 Page 24

“Don’t think about it too much. Just nod.”

  Malice nods.

  The Jabberwock says, “Both sides came to realize that if the fighting continued, it would be disastrous.”

  “Oh my. So what happened then?”

  “They came up with a solution, a way to end the war, and prevent further bloodshed. A final battle between each side’s champion.”

  Malice’s brow furrows. “Champion? I’m not sure I understand.”

  “Each side chose one fighter to represent them. They’d fight each other, and whoever’s warror won, well their side would be declared the winner of the war.”

  “High stakes,” Malice says in awe.

  “Quite. So the jabberwock fought the giant little girl. They were each great warriors, as well as magicians. And without getting too complicated, that duel itself was enchanted.”

  “Enchanted how?”

  “Since each warrior was a champion of their group, the fate of each fighter was bound to the individual members of their group in some ways.”

  “Um, huh? In what ways?”

  “It’s complicated, so I don’t want to get too much into it. But it’s important to know, for what happened...”

  “So the champions fought?”

  “Yes, they did. I could tell you blow by blow what occurred—all jabberwocks are told from a young age, but I’ll keep it short. At first it seemed like the jabberwock champion would lose. After all, the giant little girl was so much bigger than him.”

  “He must’ve been like a brave lapdog.”

  The Jabberwock gives her a look.

  “Sorry,” she says.

  “At first, the jabberwock was losing, but then he cast a spell that shrank the giant little girl warrior down to the human size you’re more familiar with.”

  “Oh, so now the jabberwock was bigger than the giant little girl.”

  “Yes, and she was no longer a giant little girl. She was just a little, little girl and you remember what I was saying earlier about how, it was an enchanted duel, and the fate of the champions was tied to the jabberwocks or girls they represented?”

  “Sort of,” Malice says. “I think, maybe I understand a little.”

  “Well, when the girl champion was shrunk, the magic rippled outward, and all the giant little girls were immediately shrunk to human size.”

  “Oh, wow, but if that’s the case, then it makes it seem like the jabberwock was picking on a little girl, no offense.”

  “Actually no, the shrinking actually made it a more even fight than before. You see, one of the little girls outside the battle circle tossed their champion a vorpal sword. And the jabberwock had one too, so it was a fair fight.”

  “Oh my!”

  “Yes, so the two warriors fought. It wasn’t a duel to the death—they were trying to make their opponent surrender or get knocked out. Well, during the fight, the little girl champion cut both of the jabberwock’s wings, but she held back, since she didn’t want to permanently unwing him.”

  “Oh, no! So could he still fly?”

  “No, and that was the moment that changed my monsters forever. Because of the enchantment of the duel, when his wings were cut, the magic rippled outward, and all the other jabberwocks were immediately rendered flightless, even though, to look at them, they were uninjured. And to this very day, no jabberwocks can fly.”

  “Oh, that’s horrible! But I think the jabberwock champion must’ve still won the duel, right? Because the jabberwocks are free, right?”

  “Yes. The jabberwock champion did indeed go on to win the duel—the little girl champion surrendered. And so the jabberwocks won their freedom and made a life for themselves in Jabberwock Valley. And from that day forward, they vowed never to sleep under a bed ever again, and that’s why now, jabberwocks all make a point of sleeping in a bed every night and being grateful for it.”

  “What happened to the little girls? Were they slaughtered? I know how much the jabberwocks hate them.”

  “No, after the duel, they went their separate ways. The little girls never unshrank, so they all joined regular-sized human families. Ever since the war ended, jabberwocks and little girls have lived together in the valley. There is still a lot of hatred on both sides, and constant conflict, even though there is no official war.”

  Malice sighs. “I’ve heard so often, how much the jabberwocks hate little girls, but the fact of the matter is, that you’re the only jabberwock Wonderland has ever known, and from what they tell me, you were always sort of sweet to Alice. And also, I’ve seen you being affectionate with Sleepy B, and she’s a little girl, as well...”

  The Jabberwock sighs. “I’ve always been considered strange, because I’ve always been...less vicious to little girls than most other jabberwocks.”

  “Nice. I mean, sometimes you’re downright nice.”

  The Jabberwock nods. “It’s just that I’ve always tried to see the inside of people, and judge them on that rather than what species they are. Oh, and when I say, ‘see inside people’, I’m not talking about ripping them open and seeing their entrails.”

  “I figured. Don’t tell the Cat, though—he’ll only be disappointed.”

  The Jabberwock chuckles. “I’ve always felt that we can’t just keep holding on to what happened in the past. Even though, as a jabberwock, I’m not supposed to think this, I’ve always had hope that someday little girls and jabberwocks can live in peace.”

  “Awww. Would they cuddle, like I’ve seen you and Sleepy B doing?”

  The Jabberwock pulls a face and the Horseman Body squirms uncomfortably. “I wouldn’t call it cuddling.”

  “You’re a sweet monster, Jabby.”

  “Oh, stop. You’re gonna make me blush.”

  “That would be cute.”

  “Arrgh! So, now I’ve filled you in. I trust you’ll keep it to yourself.”

  “I shall.”

  “Very well, let’s go chat with the twins, then.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  WHEN MALICE AND THE Jabberwock approach the oak tree where the Tweedle twins spend most of their time bickering, they see the two chubby twin boys seated at a table in front of the tree.

  As they get closer they see that Tweedledum and Tweedledee are playing a game of checkers. Next to the gameboard sit two toy rattles. The two brothers are intensely focused on the game—they haven’t noticed Malice and the Jabberwock approaching at all, so that now Malice is looking down at the board behind Tweedledee, the Jabberwock is behind Tweedledum, at least that’s who Malice thinks it is—it can be tricky telling the two brothers apart, at times. She does notice that Tweedledee is wearing a whistle by a string around his neck, while his brother isn’t.

  Malice stares at the brothers, feeling awkward. They both look so focused, each boy like a mirror image of the other—each staring down at the board with a serious expression, each with their elbow upon the table and their chin resting on their fist.

  Malice doesn’t want to interrupt their thoughts, until one of them makes a move, but now the moment has gone on quite too long—why, neither brother has barely moved at all!

  Are they breathing? Should I perhaps check their pulses?

  But now, finally, Tweedledee removes his hand from his chin and moves one of the checkers on the board. “Was that a gambit?” he asks his brother. Tweedledee startles a little as he sees the Jabberwock. “Blimey! Gave us a fright!”

  Tweedledum, meanwhile is still looking at the board. He says, “Gambit? You’re thinking of that term that’s in chess. And what’s so scary about it?”

  Tweedledee says, “I was referring to the Jabberwock there. And also, ‘checkmate’ must be the term from chess you’re thinking of.”

  Tweedledum says, “Contrariwise, I was thinking of ‘gambit’. And jabberwocks aren’t pieces in either game.” And now he looks up and sees Malice. “My Queen!”

  Tweedledee raises his hands in triumph. “Yes! Checkmate!”

  Tweedledum groans. “A checkmate is w
hen the king is trapped, and I was referring to the Queen, behind you.”

  “No,” says Tweedledee. Now he says like he’s speaking to an idiot: “And you were referring to the game of chess, remember? And in chess, the Queen is out of play if she’s not on the board. Unless there’s a special exception when the Queen is behind the player.”

  Tweedledum lifts his hands in exasperation. “Even if there was, it would be irrelevant, because we’re playing checkers.”

  Tweedledee scowls. “Then why bother, you dolt, to bring the Queen up?”

  Tweedledum says, “Because she’s behind you, you dunce!” And to strengthen his point, he points at Malice, who’s (still) behind Tweedledee—she’s smirking, and wants to laugh.

  Tweedledee says, “Crikey! She is?” And he points straight and looks into the branches above.

  Tweedledum lets out a shout of frustration. “Why are you looking up, you nincompoop?”

  “Because you said you’d brought her up.”

  “You said that, and you weren’t being literal.”

  Tweedledee mulls that over for a moment. “After further consideration, I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re correct that you didn’t say she was above me. I never should have doubted you. So the Queen is behind me, you say?”

  “Quite,” says Tweedledum.

  Tweedledee strains his head to peer over his own shoulder—Malice grins at him—and he proclaims, “Oh! My Queen. So good to see you.” He stands up and his brother stands as well. Tweedledee curtsies at Malice while his brother bows—but Malice doesn’t like to quibble about the proper formalities.

  Now Tweedledee points to the Jabberwock behind Tweedledum and says, “Her Highness is not standing behind you as well.”

  “That’s a queer way to put it,” Malice mutters.

  So now Tweedledum turns to look behind himself—when he sees the headless body, he gives a little jolt of surprise.

  “Down here, lad,” the Jabberwock says, from his perch in the Horseman Body’s hand. He grins. “I’m borrowing this body until I can find one more suitable.”

  Tweedledum says, “Ah, very good!”

  Malice says, “Yes, we’re going on a quest to Jabberwock Valley, where we’re more likely to find a spare jabberwock body, and also we have to warn the jabberwocks about something. That’s why we’re here—to talk to you about joining our quest group.”

  Tweedledum says, “Well we’ve been waiting for you to show up!”

  “Ditto,” Tweedledee says. “Waiting forever.”

  “Contrariwise, we’ve been waiting less than forever.”

  “Oh why must you always contradict me, brother?”

  “Nohow, that’s absolutely untrue! We sometimes agree, like we agreed on the terms.”

  “Terms?” Malice says.

  Tweedledee says, “Yes, we agreed on three terms we require if we are to accompany you on your quest. So terribly sorry to impose.”

  “Ditto,” says Tweedledum. “We hate to be a bother, but we couldn’t agree on having an absence of terms.”

  Warily, Malice says, “Very well, let’s hear ’em, then.”

  “Well...” says Tweedledum. He wrings his hands and appears woefully uncomfortable. “I hate to impose, but I should like to bring my rattle.” He points at one of the rattles on the table. “Again I hate to bring it up.”

  “Up?” Tweedledee points up, like he did before. “And I should like to bring mine.”

  Malice doesn’t bother to correct him, she merely nods. I wonder if he’s still confused from before, or if he’s newly confused. “Will you be rattling often, because that could become bothersome.”

  Tweedledum says, “Most certainly not, for that would only alert any foes to our presence.”

  “Also, it would get in the way of holding a sword,” the Jabberwock offers. “Believe me, I know the inconvenience of constantly having to carry an object in one hand.”

  Malice sees the Cat’s head appearing in its semi-transparent way next to the Jabberwock.

  Tweedledee says, “There is the second term that we both agreed on. Again we hate to impose, but at least it’s not as much of an imposition as the first term.”

  “Here I am,” says the Cat, whose head is floating fully solid now. “Hope I didn’t miss anything violent.”

  “Hello, furball,” says Tweedledum. “Will you be going on the quest as well?”

  “I shall,” the Cat says.

  “Will you be searching for a body as well?” Tweedledee says.

  “I have a body, I just never show it, because I don’t want to be beheaded.”

  “Perfectly understandable,” agrees the Jabberwock.

  “But,” Malice says to the Cat, “you acquired your whole body-less persona because you feared the Queen of Hearts. I’m Queen now, and have no intention of beheading you.”

  The Cat turns his nose up in the air. “Yes, well you’ve been known to lose your temper. You killed me once, remember?”

  “Yes, and I’ve apologized for that.”

  “Hrrmph. You know, I do like bloody violence, but not on me.”

  “Again I apologize.”

  “Alright. But I shall keep appearing bodyless.”

  “Very well, then,” Malice says. “The twins were just informing us of their three terms if they are to join our quest.”

  Tweedledum says, “My Queen, I mean no disrespect, but I must correct you. We were discussing the three terms we both agreed on.”

  Malice’s hands form into fists, and she resists the urge to yell, “What’s the bloody difference!” She only chewed a little bit of the black rose over six hours ago, so she doesn’t feel as calm as she’d like. I really should take a double dose, perhaps, to take the edge off, but then I might run out!

  Malice grits her teeth. “Sorry, I’m in a bit of a foul mood. But do go on—I recall you said the second condition is less bothersome than the first?”

  It better be, or I might end up beating you both bloody. Stupid twins, with your stupid phrases.

  “The second condition,” Tweedledum says, “is that we shall be alloted an hour every day before breakfast, for us to duel.”

  “Oh dear!” Malice exclaims.

  “Not to the death,” Tweedledee says to calm her.

  “Oh,” Malice says, and presses her hand to her chest.

  “I’m somewhat disappointed,” says the Cat, “though I suppose I consider you two to be friends, and don’t wish you to die...I suppose.”

  “We shall duel in various ways,” Tweedledum says.

  “I concur,” says Tweedledee.

  “What ways?” the Jabberwock says.

  The two brothers exchange glances.

  “Wooden swords, some days,” says Tweedledee.

  “Or pillows,” says Tweedledum.

  “Checkers, like today.”

  “Chess, on other days.”

  “But we don’t mix those two.”

  “Except on that one day when we did.”

  “Which was a disaster, which is why we don’t do that anymore.”

  “We’ve done foot races.”

  “And also handstand races.”

  “Enough examples!” Malice shouts. She immediately regrets losing her temper.

  The Tweedles’ jaws clamp shut, so at least it was effective.

  “My apologies,” Tweedledum says, and bows.

  “Likewise,” Tweedledee says, and curtsies.

  Malice sighs. “So you two have to be allowed to duel every single day. Well, so long as you don’t bother the rest of us, I suppose—”

  Tweedledee makes a face as if he is sorry for imposing. “My apologies again, Your Highness, but there is another condition on the second condition.”

  Malice sighs, trying to calm herself. She wipes her forehead nervously. Cor blimey, I really need some more black rose right now, to keep me from going unhinged! “And what, praytell, is that?”

  Tweedledum says, “You are to be the judge of each duel, and must d
eclare a winner. You are also to watch over the proceedings to make sure there is no cheating.”

  “Ditto,” Tweedledum says. “And if you catch a cheater, you are to have him executed, in the most painful, drawn out, yet...appropriate manner you can come up with.”

  Tweedledum says, “Poetic. It should be poetic.”

  “Poetic?” Malice says.

  Tweedledee says, “Yes, like for example, in this game of chess, if you judged one of us to be a cheater, you might have him be sentenced to have each of his limbs tied to a very heavy, large chess piece on an oversized board, thus, as the pieces are moved about, various limbs would be torn off.”

  “Brilliant!” the Cat declares.

  “That’s a bit much,” says the Jabberwock.

  Malice squeezes the bridge of her nose between her thumb and finger. “So it all falls on me? And that’s supposed to be less imposing than the first condition?”

  “Oh, without a doubt!” says one brother.

  “Ditto!” says the other.

  Tweedledum says to his brother, “Though, we were playing checkers, not chess. I thought you’d come to understand that, dimwit.”

  Tweedledee looks mightily offended, and sits there with a perturbed expression for several long moments. He points at his brother. “My Queen, I propose that my opponent cheated when he attempted to bring the Queen into play during a game of checkers, which is not allowed!”

  “Contrariwise! I merely announced the Queen’s presence! And she’s an actual queen, not a chess piece!”

  “Aha! So now you’re back to saying it’s chess! Make up your mind!”

  Malice groans. I really should’ve taken a full dose. Note to self to do that as soon as I get back to the castle.

  “Whoa, whoa!” the Jabberwock says. “No one cheated.”

  Tweedledee places his hand on his hip. “Who are you to judge? You’re not the Queen. Now, Your Highness, do you judge that my brother cheated? Also, how would you like him to be executed?”

  Malice pinches the bridge of her nose again. “He didn’t cheat. He shall live to see another day.”

  The Cat chuckles, and though Malice should appreciate his laughing at her quip, she’s actually irritated by it.

  “There you are,” Tweedledum says. “It has been officially decreed that I did not cheat. Now, Your Highness, if you’d be so kind, please judge the winner of our duel.” He gestures with his hand at the checkerboard.