“We’ll take it from here,” Fabiola says. “Now get out of here, Pillar.”
The Pillar nods. He looks defeated in a way. Like I noticed before, he can hardly stand up to Fabiola. We all watch him walk out the door, wondering if we’ll ever see him again—or if we ever want to see him again.
“And please stay away from Alice.” Fabiola stabs the words in his back. I know if there’s one thing he likes the most, it’s to be near me. “Once the Inklings are set to go, we won’t need you.”
The Pillar slowly turns back. “Why do you hate me so much, White Queen?” he says. “I lost this for you.” He waves his right hand in the air and points at something.
I blink, trying to interpret what he means. Lost what for her, Pillar? What in the church was he pointing at? Was he pointing at God? Has he lost his faith to her? It doesn’t make sense.
Fabiola stiffens. The Pillar’s words cut through her somehow. She fights the tears and stands straight, saying nothing.
“Get out, Pillar.” She kills him now—and me. “Go pay the Queen of Hearts with the key in exchange for your revenge. Go spill blood and spread mayhem wherever you want, but not near us.”
The Pillar turns around and walks out. As he does, he stops near one of the uninfected and scares her. “Boo!”
Chapter 89
Radcliffe asylum, Oxford
The Cheshire, in Todd’s body now, grinned at his sister.
“You look awkward,” she retorted. “Go find Dad and make fun of him.”
“So you’re not Tweedledee?” the Cheshire said.
“What? You’ve read those Alice in Wonderland books now? Aren’t you too old for that?”
“No one’s too old for those books, don’t you think?” the Cheshire said. “So you’re not Tweedledum, either?”
“I’m not,” she says. “What’s wrong with you today?”
“I guess it’s the Alice in Wonderland books.” The Cheshire cocked his head.
“You know what happened to me the first time my teacher read the book to us in class when I was younger?”
“No. What happened?”
“She kept reading it to the class, so fascinated by it,” she said. “And I was like eleven or so. I couldn’t fathom the books. My mind was reeling, truly.”
“And then what happened?”
“I raised my hand after she finished and said, ‘Teacher, is this Lewis Carroll mad, or is he mad?’”
The Cheshire laughed aloud.
“My teacher was mad at me when I said that and spent the rest of the day explaining how this book was the pinnacle of literature and that the author was never mad and never took any drugs.”
“And we all know what that means, of course.”
“That he was mad and took drugs.” She snickered.
“You know what’s madder? That we love this book so much.”
“I guess we’re mad too,” Tania said.
“We’re all mad here.” The Cheshire grinned.
“Oh, my God, Todd,” Tania said. “Do that again.”
“What? We’re all mad here?”
“That’s bombastically amazing. You look just like the Cheshire.”
“Oh, come on. Who could match the Cheshire’s creepy grin in that Disney movie?”
“No, seriously. Yours is even better,” Tania said. “Please do it again.”
“You know what I can do better? I can make my head disappear, too.”
“Haha. Don’t get carried away.”
The Cheshire grinned. “Wanna see? Look.”
But of course his head didn’t disappear, because sometimes he was still bound by the body of the one he possessed. It seemed that not only was Todd not one of the Tweedles, but he also wasn’t a good sport. His head wouldn’t budge.
“You made me laugh, anyway,” Tania said. “You should do that grin a lot. I think girls will like it. Girls like all kinds of weirds things, trust me.”
“Are you having fun, children?” Dr. Truckle entered the cell.
“Lotsa fun and grins.” The Cheshire put his hands around his father’s arm in hopes of possessing the man’s body to find his way out of the asylum.
To his surprise, he couldn’t get into Tom’s body.
The Cheshire, still trapped inside the teenager, stared suspiciously at Dr. Tom Truckle. To his knowledge, it was only Wonderlanders he could not possess. Who are you, Dr. Truckle?
Chapter 90
St Peter’s, The Vatican
“I think you were a bit harsh on the Pillar.” I tell Fabiola.
She dismisses my comment and checks on the March Hare in the confession booth. “Did you remember anything of importance yet?”
“Nothing, White Queen,” he replied. “But I feel the drug wearing off. I should remember all that happened soon enough.”
“Then you have no choice but to go to Geneva,” Fabiola tells me. “Take your umbrella. I have a feeling it’s the way to kill Carolus.”
“It makes sense. If Lewis gave it to me, then maybe it’s the weapon to kill his darker half with.” I stare at the laughable umbrella that has saved my life repeatedly.