Bargain price

CHAPTER 46

I T WAS a long, exhausting journey without the ease of travel once afforded by The Crystal Continuum. Not wanting to risk further encounters with jabberwocky, the Alyssians skirted the Volcanic Plains, and luckily-though strangely, considering Redd’s usual aggression-their trek was uneventful. They hadn’t seen a single Glass Eye or card soldier, just the occasional flock of seekers circling high overhead.

They stood gathered at the base of an abandoned building, gazing out at a dingy Wondertropolis alley. “Where is it?” General Doppelganger asked.

“There.”

Hatter pointed as two Wonderlanders tripped up the front steps of a basement tavern and stumbled into the alley, drunk.

“That’s the place?” General Doppelganger asked. “It looks more than a bit…unsavory.”

“It’s the only place I know,” Hatter said. He cast a studious eye over his confederates: Bibwit in his scholar’s robe; the general, Dodge, and Alyss in their Alyssian uniforms. No amount of camouflage could hide the fact that they were not average Wonderlanders. Still, they didn’t have to bring unnecessary attention to themselves by flaunting their rebel colors, so Hatter folded his top hat into a stack of deadly blades and placed it in his inside coat pocket. He removed his coat and draped it over his arm. “Ready?” he asked.

Alyss nodded, conjured hooded cloaks for herself and the others, and the Alyssians crossed the alley and entered the tavern. They paused in the doorway to let their eyes adjust to the gloom, giving the bartender and a toothless old smuggler at the counter an opportunity to size them up. The rest of the patrons were too absorbed in their drink to notice the newcomers, slumped half-conscious on their

tattered bar stools or passed out altogether.

“We don’t have to put ourselves on display, do we?” Dodge said. “Let’s sit down.”

They had hardly settled around the nearest table when the bartender jerked his head toward a corner of the tavern, and out of the vacuous dark stepped a girl wearing a homburg hat and a long overcoat not unlike Hatter’s. She approached the Alyssians to take their order.

The shy girl I saw at camp, who brought tea when I had my first talk with Bibwit. “You?” Bibwit said, surprised.

“Me,” the girl confirmed. “But…how did…I don’t…”

It was the first time any of them had seen Bibwit Harte at a loss for words.

“My child,” he said, recovering himself, “I don’t know how you survived the raid on our camp, and of course it’s pleasing to discover you, as it would be pleasing to find any of us alive, but…what are you doing here? You’re too young to be working in a place like this.”

“I’m thirteen. Old enough, I think. And lucky to be working at all.”

Alyss glanced at Dodge, and the questioning, slightly perturbed expression on his face told her that they were thinking the same thing. Is this who we’re supposed to meet? It must be. It’s too much of a coincidence. But the girl was so young-not at all what Alyss had been expecting.

“How well do you know the city?” General Doppelganger asked. The girl shrugged. “Better than most.”

Hatter caught sight of a vein in the shape of an h below her left ear. His face hardened. “She’s a halfer. Civilian and Millinery spawn. Not to be trusted.”

“Hatter-” Bibwit began.

“I don’t need your trust,” the girl said. “I serve the princess…if she’ll let me.” With a bow too subtle for those around them to notice, she directly addressed Alyss for the first time: “Homburg Molly, at your service, Princess.”

Alyss dipped her head in response. “We are looking for a certain puzzle shop. Do you know of it?” “I think I do.”

“How can we be sure you won’t lead us into a trap?” The question came from Hatter. “You can’t.”

“Hatter, I don’t think we need fear the girl,” said Bibwit Harte. “And judging by the looks we’re getting from the other patrons, we could use a friend in this place.”

The longer the Alyssians remained in the tavern, the more the regulars woke from their alcohol dreams and squinted menacingly at them. Alyssians were not welcome. The toothless smuggler heaved himself away from the bar and hurried out, glaring at them.

“I wonder where he could be going,” Dodge said, sarcastic. “If you’re afraid,” Molly said to Hatter, “you can stay here.” “Afraid?”

“It happens to everyone.”

“Keep it lively, you!” the bartender shouted. “You better order something,” Molly said.

“Bring us whatever will keep you out of trouble,” Bibwit said.

Molly went to fetch the order and received an earful of abuse from the bartender for her so-called laziness-he filling five cracked mugs with frothy, steaming brew all the while.

Bibwit shook his head. “What sort of world is it when a youngster must become a barmaid in a place like this to survive?”

“She’s a halfer,” Hatter repeated, as if the fact in itself was enough to ward them off the girl.

“We had halfers at the Alyssian headquarters, Hatter,” said General Doppelganger. “After the Millinery went down, several members lived with us for a time. Many halfers were born under our care. They’re not as disloyal as you suppose.”

“Their only duty is to their own self-interest.”

“She says she knows the puzzle shop,” Alyss said, and the table fell silent. “She’s the only one the caterpillar could have meant. Look around. There is no one else.”

“Assuming this is the place the caterpillar meant for us to be,” Dodge said.

But Alyss had made up her mind. This was the place. Homburg Molly was the one. “It is,” she said. Molly returned with their drinks and began setting them on the table.

“You see that poster over there, Princess? The one for Redd’s Hotel and Casino?” “Yes.”

“It’s a false wall. Behind it is a way out. We use it whenever we’re raided. The Cut is already on its way.”

“Thanks to our friend with no teeth,” Dodge said.

Indeed, a division of The Cut was at that moment rounding the corner into the alley, led by the toothless smuggler. The unmistakable rasping of the card soldiers’ marching, steel-like legs echoed off the buildings. By the time it was heard inside the tavern, it was almost too late. The Cut burst in and the suddenly sober patrons overturned tables and trampled one another in their efforts to flee. Fighting broke out. Dodge, Bibwit, General Doppelganger and Hatter formed a circle around Alyss-the first three with their swords drawn, Hatter with his wrist-blades spinning. Homburg Molly steered them through the

brawling soldiers and patrons, ducking to avoid the reach of pummeling fists, her homburg flattened into a razor-edged disk to shield her from the soldiers’ swords. Dink! Clank! Pong! In close formation, the thirteen-year-old guided the Alyssians to the false wall, down a dank tunnel, and safely outside.

The street was quiet, no hint of the violence from which they had just escaped. It could have been an ordinary night in Wondertropolis. Molly kept walking, calmly continued down the street, knowing exactly where she was going. The Alyssians stood watching her until the girl stopped and turned to them.

“Well? Come on if you’re coming.”