Chapter 47 #2
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out something small and intricate.
At first, I think it’s a compass, but as she holds it up, I see it’s something else entirely.
A crystal face shimmers above swirling brass cogs and gears, turning beneath the surface.
At its centre is a tiny hourglass, its grains of sand slipping too quickly, too erratically.
Sophia thrusts it towards us. “There’s not much sand left.
Do you see? The grains fall too fast, too slow—they’re wrong.
Wonderland is fading, its magic disappearing into the madness you see.
Wonder is turning into nightmare. The flowers speak of death.
The trees whisper their silence. Soon, there will be nothing left. ”
Her piercing green eyes lock onto mine. “You left,” she says softly but pointedly. “You’re the right Alice, but you left us. And now the Queen clings to her throne, but—”
Hook cuts her off with a sharp glare. “Enough,” he snaps.
Sophia draws a deep breath, steadying herself. “Wonderland needs your help,” she says. “If you die, Wonderland is lost.”
Hook lets out a low, dry laugh. “Yes, well, love, that’s all very touching, and my heart bleeds, truly, but I am not about to trust one of the Queen’s lackeys.”
Sophia’s jaw tightens, but she doesn’t flinch.
Her green eyes flash, sharp and unyielding.
“I’m no one’s lackey,” she says coldly. “I’ve lost as much to the Queen’s reign as anyone.
My family is gone. My home, dust. Everything.
..” Her voice falters briefly before she squares her shoulders, her gaze snapping back to me.
“You left us. That is why I do not bow. I will not bow.”
Bow? I don’t know what she means, but it doesn’t matter.
Hook steps closer, forcing her to take a step back. “Stop,” he says, his voice low and dangerous.
She raises her chin, refusing to back down. “You sought the Queen’s assistance. Does that not also make you, her lackey?”
“I work for no one,” Hook snarls.
Sophia’s gaze flicks past him, landing squarely on me.
“The Queen’s grip—tight like chains, desperate like drowning,” she says, her words quick and strange.
“She drains the magic from this world, drop by drop, to fill her own bottomless cup. Immortality is her anchor, her lifeline, but it frays. Threads unravel, unspool. And you...” Her voice softens, tilting her head slightly. “You are the thread she fears most.”
I swallow hard, my chest tightening. “I’m nothing to her.”
Sophia’s eyes narrow, and she steps closer, ignoring Hook entirely now. “Nothing?” she echoes, her tone sharp and cutting. “A girl who leaves her shadow on the walls of Wonderland? Who bends light and magic without even knowing? No, not nothing. Everything.”
Her words crawl under my skin, unsettling and raw. Hook growls, his patience visibly wearing thin. “Enough riddles, Hatter. If you’ve got something to say, say it plainly.”
Sophia’s lips curl into a humourless smile. “Plain? Plain is for teacups, Captain. The truth does not fit in a cup. It spills, leaks, floods. And your truth? Oh, it’s drowning you already.”
Hook’s hand twitches, the tension radiating off him. “Try me.”
Sophia’s smile fades, and for a moment, the tunnel is silent, the air thick with unspoken words.
Then, softly, she says, “The Queen hunts you because she fears you. Both of you. Together, you are her undoing.” She looks back at me, her voice quieter but no less intense.
“You are the thread that unravels the tapestry. And him?” She gestures to Hook without breaking eye contact. “He is the knife to cut it loose.”
“And what does that make you?” Hook snarls. “A needle to stitch us up, or a pawn in her game?”
Sophia straightens, her green eyes glinting with determination. “I am neither,” she says firmly. “I am the broken clock, ticking backwards, forwards, never quite right. I am the mirror that shows what you do not want to see. And I am here because, like it or not, Captain, you cannot do this alone.”
She turns back to me, her gaze softer now but still piercing. “Wonderland dies without you. And without Wonderland, everything else falls. The Hollowlands, Neverland, all of it. Threads pulled, knots untied. Chaos.”
Hook mutters something under his breath, but I can’t make it out. My mind is spinning, her words tangling in my thoughts like thorns.
Sophia holds up the strange compass again.
“The sands fall too fast, too slow. Wonderland twists, bends, breaks. The Queen feeds off its magic, and the balance tips further. Soon, there will be no Wonderland left to save. Only ruins, only nightmares.” Her voice drops, trembling slightly. “I cannot let that happen.”
I glance at Hook. His expression is unreadable, his jaw tight, his eyes shadowed. But he doesn’t argue. Not yet.
“And what if we say no?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Sophia tilts her head, her curls catching the dim light as her smile returns, sharp and knowing. “Then you’ll die,” she says simply. “And Wonderland will die with you.”