Chapter 42 #2
Alice hoisted herself up over the well and lowered herself in as the sparks on her cloak sizzled.
Alice clung to the well, her boots jammed into the stonework inside.
The woman was close enough now that Alice could see her wild hateful black eyes reflecting the sparks she drew to her wand with another overhead twirl.
As the white lights rocketed toward Alice, she let go and dropped into the dark well.
Alice fell in blackness. She reached out to slow the fall, but there were no stone walls.
Suddenly there came a flash of light, and Alice’s feet slammed beneath her, and she tumbled over soft lush moss.
Alice scurried, dizzy, but determined to get upright.
Panting, she looked every which way. There were no jubjubs.
Alice was no longer where she had been standing, but somewhere entirely different.
The Ruby Palace wall was not in the distance up a hill.
Blinkem was nowhere nearby. The sun hung somewhere above a dark green canopy of leaves, but the vivid magenta that peeked through the leaves made clear that it had begun its descent.
The forest she found herself in now was humid, buzzing with the chirping, clicking, and clacking of birds and insects.
Where was she?
In London, Molloy sprinted across the snow-laden flower beds, moonlight illuminating her path as she pushed her short legs to their limit. There was only one place left to check.
Neither Alice nor Wendy had been hidden in the floral hatboxes within the manor—thank the realms—but both were missing.
That left only Kensington Gardens, the sole place in London where portals led to both the mainland of Oz and the Isle.
It was where Peter had first met Wendy, and where young Alice had discovered Blinkem, so long ago.
Molloy had sealed the ground portal herself after she’d retrieved Alice from the poppies—but had Alice somehow reopened it?
Molloy couldn’t see how that would be possible, but she had to be sure.
Dropping to her hands and knees, she clawed through the frozen earth beneath the rose bushes along the bank, just beyond the stream that fed the lake—Peter’s swimming hole—the gateway to the heart of the Isle of the Goddess.
The soil was stiff, nearly frozen, undisturbed.
No sign of entry. Yet she dug deeper, past the roots, until the ground hollowed out beneath her fingertips, revealing the tunnel that led to Munchkin Country.
Silver threads of light shimmered in the earth.
Molloy leaned in, pressing her heavy frame against the opening. Nothing happened. No pull. No tremor. No shift in the air.
The passage to Oz remained closed.
Molloy exhaled, her breath rising in ghostly clouds as she climbed to her feet.
The brief exertion had left her warm, but the cold was already creeping back.
She pressed on, following the stream until she reached the Serpentine, its edges glazed with ice, stretching in an opaque sheet toward the bridge.
She climbed the stone footbridge, her pulse quickening. Below her, Long Water Lake lay frozen, a solid crust covering its surface. No ripples. No breaks. No one had made the passage from Long Water to the cave on the Isle of the Goddess, where, for Alice, all of this had begun.
Relief warred with unease.
If Alice had found—or been taken to—the Isle of the Goddess, there would have been a sign, and nearly no way to find her.
Molloy placed a hand on the bridge’s frosted railing and whispered into the night. “Stay away from Neverland, Alice.”
It was time for Molloy to return to Oz. Based on all the clues Molloy had found—the shattered mirror at the manor, the closed portal here—Alice had to be there. In Oz, chaos would be in pursuit of Alice. So would Roquat. Was Molloy too late already?
Blinkem ran with human legs, but his heart still pounded at its rabbit speed. He skidded to a halt just shy of the well, his breath hitching. Standing opposite him was the witch he knew all too well.
“Hello, rabbit,” Mombi snickered, her wand aimed squarely at his chest. “You seem to have something I want. Well, more than one thing now.”
Blinkem’s gaze darted behind and all around her. His mind raced through escape routes—he could bolt into the brush pile, weave through the hollow log. If he was fast enough, he might just make it past her without taking a hit.
“The watch and Alice,” he said, watching her closely.
Mombi nearly smiled. “Give me the chronex, and you can keep the girl,” she offered smoothly. “I won’t need her if I have what is rightfully mine.”
Sparks erupted from her wand, ricocheting off the well. A searing white flame grazed his arm, forcing a sharp inhale through his teeth. He tried to dart, but her reflexes were faster—an explosion of debris and sparks erupted at his feet, cutting off his path.
“I’ll do even better,” she continued, voice darkening. “Hand over the watch, and you can keep the girl—and I’ll give you your parents.” Her head tilted, black eyes burning through him.
Blinkem’s fingers curled into fists. “Whatever you plan to do with that watch must be far worse than the fate we suffer now,” he said, stepping toward her. “I won’t give it to you.”
Her wand flared, but she hesitated.
“I know it’s not on you,” she murmured, eyes narrowing. “Where is…”
“Tattypoo has it,” he said, creeping toward the nearest tree.
“Where is my sister!” Mombi screamed and lunged.
A storm of hot sparks rained down, but he dove behind the trunk, the bark singed by the heat.
In the next heartbeat, he was off dropping to all fours, bounding into the brush pile.
It exploded behind him as her fire struck it, but he was already slipping through the hollow log, tearing over the hill.
Out of range—for now.