“The Executioner?” Margaret spelled out slowly.
“It makes sense. Whoever designed this plague in the hookahs must be related to the Executioner. It’s where all the hallucinogens are cooked.” The Queen rubbed her chin.
“So the Pillar is looking for a cure in Columbia?”
“I hope that’s all he is looking for,” the Queen said. “I hope he isn’t digging into the past, or this will have dire consequences. What kind of complicated day is today?” She romped her feet on the ground.
“Today is Sunday, My Queen.”
“Here’s my second request to the Parliament,” she said, chin up. “No more Sundays!”
“That’s impossible. It’s an important day to the people.”
“No, it’s not. I haven’t been cool with the days of the week being seven anyways. God made the world in six days. And Lewis Carroll, when he was still sane, thought about six impossible things for breakfast. And we’re looking for six keys. Now six weekdays feels about right.”
“Whatever you say, My Queen.” Margaret chewed on the words.
“So, back to our problem. Send someone to follow the Pillar in Columbia.”
“You’re aware that very few Wonderlanders have the guts to go there, right? Not even me or the Cheshire.”
“Then find those who have the guts. Wasn’t Wonderland full of gory loons? Find one and send them after the Pillar to expedite his search for a cure.”
“I need to make some phone calls,” Margaret said and left the chamber.
The Queen turned and stared into the mirror. “What are you doing, Pillar?” she mumbled. “Are you planning on opening those old wounds from the past again?”
Chapter 23
Mushroomland, Columbia
Gritting my teeth, I watch the poor kids being led outside.
“Where are they going?” I ask, my hands trembling.
“None of your business, little girl,” the Executioner says. “I’m starting to lose my patience with you.”
“Why not have another drink?” the Pillar interrupts.
Oh, God. How I hate both of them.
“Indeed.” The Executioner pours more of the pink liquid. “And since you’re in the mood for more drinks, here is what I will do. I know you have a question you want to ask me.”
“Finally,” I hiss.
“Yes,” the Pillar says. “I’m looking for a cure for the Hookah of Hearts plague that’s sweeping over the world by the minute—suspiciously enough, it has no effect on this region of the world.”
“Oh, that.”
“I know you don’t care about the world outside of Mushroomland, but I really need to stop the plague,” the Pillar says.
“I saw it on TV this morning,” the Executioner says. “Very funny plague. Did you see the naked teacher on the bicycle chasing his wife, trying to kill her?”
“Haven’t had the pleasure,” the Pillar says.
“Well... I understand it’s Lewis Carroll who spread the disease,” the Executioner considers. “I have to admit I don’t want to have anything to do with him. You know how mad and angry he can get, with all those migraines of his.”
I can’t believe they’re talking about Lewis Carroll, but finding the cure is my priority now. I don’t say a word.
“I know,” the Pillar says, “but we need the cure.”
“The thing is, there is no cure, Senor Pillardo.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“I’m sure because you have no idea what the hookahs do to people.”
“It turns them into nuts, just like the mushrooms did to me,” I say.
“That’s an understatement to the brilliance of what this plague really does to people.” The Executioner taps the diamond grail he is drinking from. “This plague does something to people you would never have imagined in a million years. And once you realize what it is, you’ll understand why there is no cure.”
“What does it do?” I demand.
“Like I said, I’m not saying because I don’t want to have anything to do with Lewis Carroll.” The Executioner stands up. “But I know who cooked it for him.”
“That’s a start.” The Pillar steps forward. “Who?”
“I’m not telling you that either.” The Executioner smirks. “Not until you entertain me like in the old days, Senor Pillardo. Come on, make me laugh.”
The Pillar stiffens for a fraction of a second. “Of course.” He raises his glass. “Want to play Wonderland logic again?”
“Whatever’s on your mind. Just be sure you make me laugh.” The Executioner hands him a pistol. “And for starters, I laugh when someone shoots one of my guards. How about that for a start?”
“My pleasure.” The Pillar grabs the gun from the table and shoots two of the guards without hesitation.