"There is a festival called Kattenstoet. The weirdest festival of all," Fabiola says.
"Are you talking about the Cat Throwing Festival?" The Pillar rubs his chin.
Fabiola nods.
"Cat throwing?" Again, I am having a hard time accepting things I hear.
"That's a long story," the Pillar cuts in. "We know what we came here for, and we better go now."
"Wait," the White Queen says. "I haven't yet told you why he attends the festival. I haven't told you why he has a grudge against humanity."
Suddenly, we hear voices outside. I hear someone thud on the floor, and a nun screaming briefly.
"What's going on?" I ask.
"Don’t tell me it’s the..." the Pillar exchanges looks with Fabiola.
“You didn’t let them follow you here, did you?” Fabiola is suddenly furious.
“Who is it?” I can’t stand not knowing.
"Who else? The Reds," Fabiola says. "You have to escape."
Chapter 48
Fabiola runs to a fireplace nearby and pulls an umbrella from inside—I think all Wonderlanders have a thing for fireplaces. It's a pink umbrella. It looks silly, and the color doesn’t match the grand holiness of St. Peters. She throws it at me. "You will need it,” she says as I catch it. “And when I say you’ll need it, I mean it.”
I want to ask if it’s going to rain inside the basilica, but the situation is too dangerous for questions. The doors are pounding. The Reds who killed the nuns outside want in.
"And I believe you will need this?" she throws a hookah to the Pillar.
"Thank you for thinking of me, Fabiola," he smirks, catching it as the doors outside bang harder.
"As for me, I will need this," she pulls out a sword from the same fireplace. The sight of the White Queen with a sword in her hand confuses me. Since she’s heard the pounding on the doors, she has turned into some warrior nun.
"What's that, Fabiola?" I wonder.
"It's the vorpal sword," she stares at her sword with pride. "Time to stand up to the face of evil."
I am the most bewildered Alice of all.
“Holy Borgroves!” The Pillar enjoys this, staring at Fabiola like she’s a superwoman. The glimmer in his eyes is unpredictable. I think the Pillar feels something for the White Queen. “I miss the old days,” he tells her.
“Don’t get any ideas, Pillar,” her words are sharp. “We’re not fighting on the same side. We’re only fighting the same enemy.”
The three of us turn to face the doors. I can’t help but feel like the worst twisted version of the Three Musketeers. The doors bang open. Finally, I will see the Reds.
Chapter 49
Tens of red hooded men with hollow faces rush in. Their hoods over their heads are heart-shaped, and most of them have Latin numbers sewn in gold on their back. The numbers vary from one to nine. They are the Reds, my new world’s twisted version of Lewis Carroll’s playing cards.
Some of the Reds have swords, some holds spears. None of them talk. They are here to kill us all. A brief thought runs through my head: why isn’t anyone fighting with real guns? A spear swooshes next to my ear. I am not going to ask anymore.
"Lock the doors behind them!" the White Queen orders her nuns outside. “Trap them inside.”
The Pillar whips his hose at the first hooded man approaching him. It's like he is Indiana Jones on crack. The hose snakes around the Red’s hollow neck and chokes him. The Red falls to the floor in the form of an empty hood with no body inside. "Ace that!" the Pillar cheers and runs for another intruder.
Fabiola is surrounded by five of them, flashing her vorpal, and taking a fencing master's position. She even signals to them to approach her with her other hand, then pulls the hem of her white dress up again. I can't believe my eyes.
It only takes one of them to approach her before she goes nuts on him, stabbing and beheading him with the vorpal.
“The Vatican would be proud of you!” the Pillar cheers.
Fabiola is fast. She can walk briefly on air to get her kicks, her veil floating behind her as if it’s her swirling hair. When she spins her dress swirls with her, like a princess dancing underwater. She fights like a Samurai. Empty red hoods fall all around her.
“I never had a nun superhero when I was a child, you know that?” the Pillar tells me while choking a Red. "But then again, nuns and priests were not that fond of me."
“Shut up, Pillar,” Fabiola says, still fighting. “I doubt you were ever a child.”