Frank Beddor - Seeing Redd

“This is one of the libraries,” Bibwit said, showing them into a paneled room crowded with books, scrolls, reading crystals.

Only three lunar cycles had passed since Redd’s defeat and yet the pressures of Alyss’ position were wearing on her. She didn’t want to let anyone down, least of all Bibwit. He was the closest thing she had to a father since her aunt Redd had murdered her parents.

“Don’t you agree, Alyss?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts. “About what?”

“I was just telling young Molly-” “I’m not young,” Molly blurted.

The tutor paused. In the short time since Redd’s defeat, the girl had grown at least a gwormmy-length and the cute slope of her nose had straightened somewhat, as if in anticipation of the handsome woman she would soon be. But her unlined face, her pillowy cheeks, and her strong, clear eyes turned defiantly upon him-she was nothing if not a child.

“No,” Bibwit said. “After what we’ve been through, I don’t suppose any of us could be called young, although as Alyss has kindly pointed out, it’s unlikely anyone would have dared to think me so. My apologies, Molly. But I was saying that although the principles of White Imagination do not concern themselves with the luxuries so plentiful in the new palace, its opulence might be said to represent a time when beauty could exist in Wonderland unmolested by greed or other ill-intent.”

Hard to believe this is where I’m to live.

The crystal-shimmering spires and agate-mosaic artworks, floors inlaid with jasper and pearl, walls of quartz and stone and glittering mortar: It was all so unfamiliar and much grander than the former palace.

“Alyss might not care overly much for such things,” Bibwit was saying as they again continued down the passage, “but on occasion a queen must follow instead of lead. The wisdom comes in knowing when to do so and, in this instance, Alyss has wisely chosen to follow the will of the people.” Bibwit’s ears twitched. “We have company.”

Alyss soon heard footsteps approaching. General Doppelganger appeared at the end of the hall, his

military boots clicking on the polished floor. He bowed repeatedly and began talking before he reached her.

“My queen, three decks of card soldiers have been dispatched to guard the perimeter of the grounds. The white knight and his chessmen will be stationed inside the palace and its gardens. They have promised to be as inconspicuous as they can, so as not to worry your guests, but-”

Alyss laughed. “They are chessmen, General; they will always be a trifle conspicuous.”

“That’s so, that’s so.” The general ran a fretful hand through his hair and split into the twin figures of

Doppel and Ganger.

“We urge you to reconsider,” said General Doppel.

“It’s a risk to have invited so many to the palace all at once,” agreed General Ganger. “We don’t wish to cause needless alarm-”

“-but we’ll be vulnerable to disruptions from any enemies we still have among the populace.” “To say nothing of the risk to you personally.”

“Queen Alyss can take care of herself,” said Homburg Molly. “And besides, she has me.”

In one swift motion, Molly took the homburg from her head, snapped it into a flat, knife-edged disk, and sent it zinging down the hall and back. She caught it, with a flick of the wrist returned it to its innocent homburg shape, and plunked it on top of her head.

Always wanting to prove her worth even though she’s proved it tenfold in battles.

Homburg Molly was still too inexperienced to have mastered the Millinery ethic of keeping her emotions hidden, an ethic Hatter Madigan had epitomized to perfection.

“Your diligence and concern are appreciated, as always,” Alyss told the generals, “but the memorial is for all of Wonderland. And to bring out the best in Wonderlanders, I must assume the best of them.”

“You’re starting to sound like Bibwit!” Doppel and Ganger moaned at once, and turned to leave.

“I’ll walk with you, Generals,” the tutor said. “I must powder my head and poof out my scholarly robes for the party and so will take my leave of the queen.”

Once Bibwit and the generals had gone, Molly said, “I don’t get it. He’s an albino. Why does he put white powder on his head?”

Alyss smiled. “When we’re as clever and educated as Bibwit, I’m sure we’ll know the answer, Molly. But I think it’s time we joined the guests.”

The royal garden, a courtyard at the center of palace grounds, was crowded with happy Wonderlanders, their ticklish eruptions of laughter competing with the singing of the sunflowers planted alongside the war memorial.

Alyss had made only one request of the palace architects: that at the grave site of Sir Justice Anders, former head of the palace guard and Dodge Anders’ father, they create a memorial honoring all who had

lost their lives during Redd’s thirteen-year reign-royals, civilians, card soldiers, chessmen, palace guardsmen, and members of the Millinery. The bodies of Queen Genevieve and King Nolan hadn’t been recovered, of course, but Bibwit had surprised Alyss with two of their most intimate keepsakes: a toy spirit-dane invented by her father, and one of her mother’s charm bracelets, both of which he’d kept tucked deep within his robes throughout Redd’s tyranny. These had been enough for the Hereafter Seeds to do their work. Just as a bouquet forming the likeness of Sir Justice watched over his grave, bouquets

of camellias, gardenias and lilies resembling Wonderland’s former king and queen now kept vigil over theirs. On either side of the graves rose a simple stone etched with the names of those known to have lost their lives in battles against Redd. Behind all: an obelisk of emerald green, in recognition of those who had gone missing during Redd’s occupation and were now, to their families’ grief, presumed dead.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Molly said, looking around at the variety of people and creatures in the courtyard. “You’ve got street vendors mingling with suit families as if no one’s blood is purer than another’s.”

Alyss knew this to be a constant theme with Homburg Molly. Half civilian, half Milliner, the girl was particularly sensitive to matters of race and class.

“I don’t know, Molly. Judging by the look on Lady Diamond’s face, I’d say you overestimated things a bit.” Alyss called out to the ranking lady as the walrus-butler passed by with a tray of wondercrumpets: “Have a wondercrumpet, Lady Diamond?”

“Ah. A wondercrumpet. Yes,” said the lady, taking one but holding it far from her mouth with no apparent intention of bringing it closer. “You do know how to throw a party, Queen Alyss.”

“You think so? I wouldn’t have supposed you enjoyed brushing against so many Wonderlanders of lesser rank.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” the Lady of Diamonds huffed.

Alyss didn’t trust the suit families, but there had been no proof of their conspiring with Redd, either before or after her overthrow of Queen Genevieve. Nor had there been any proof of their engaging in outlawed activities that could have secured a conviction in Wondertropolis’ courts. As much as Alyss would have liked the suit families gone, there was politics to consider. Redd had kept them around after her coup for similar reasons: their relationships with business leaders, government officials, and the arbiters who decided the guilt or innocence of the ill-fated brought before them in the name of jurisprudence. Only Jack of Diamonds had been prosecuted, Bibwit’s and the walrus-butler’s evidence against him too overwhelming to ignore; found guilty of treason and racketeering, he’d been punished accordingly.