Chapter Text
“It's no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.“
- Alice, Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland
Despite her excitement towards her first special training session, Eight soon realised that it wasn't everything she made it out to be. There were no kind words of encouragement from her father, no breaks, and certainly no room for failure.
Her days, when she wasn't having normal training with her siblings, were suddenly filled with tiring jumps back and forth between Wonderland. Even when she arrived in her favourite dimension, she couldn't hang around and seek anyone out because time worked differently between the dimensions. Several hours in Wonderland equated to more than a day back home which meant she had to return home as soon as possible lest her father punished her once she got back.
With all of her excessive training, Eight barely had time to spend with her siblings anymore. And even if she did have time, they didn't want to spend it with her because suddenly, all of dad's attention was on her and her newfound ability. They didn't want to even play hide and seek with her anymore because she always won by hiding in Wonderland for a few minutes and returning when almost an hour had passed.
She felt bad that she could no longer spend time with Seven, too. She used to love talking with her sister and connecting over their lack of abilities, but now that she'd discovered her own ability but Seven hadn't, they seemed to be strangers to one another.
It wasn't for lack of Eight's trying, of course. She wanted to spend time with Seven (more so than her other siblings, really), but she no longer had any time because of all of her training. That meant that she and Seven grew apart over time and, in the end, her sister no longer wanted to spend time with her anymore.
It hurt Eight that Seven didn't want to be friends anymore, but she didn't have much time to dwell on it when her days were filled with exhausting training sessions and fighting her other siblings for a bit of their father's praise.
It only takes her a year and a half to make a mistake with her powers.
The only thing she hates about her power is that it's unpredictable. There's never any guarantee that she'll end up in Wonderland again (though she does arrive there a lot more than anywhere else), and time works differently between all dimensions she travels to.
Where she can be in Wonderland for an hour, but in her own dimension, two to three hours might have passed. She can be in Checkers (she named this dimension due to its odd colour scheme which hurts her eyes) for five hours but only five minutes will have passed back home
Unfortunately, she doesn't get to pick and choose how long has passed in her own dimension nor when she goes into any other dimensions, due to her training sessions.
The one time she did get to choose when she went to another dimension, however, she messed up.
Eight wasn't allowed a mirror (or looking glass, as she preferred to call them) in her bedroom because of her ability, but due to general common sense on her father's behalf, there were still mirrors in every other bathroom in the house.
Late at night when her family were safely tucked away in bed and fast asleep, Eight crept out of her room with an excited grin. She contemplated briefly stopping at Seven's room and seeing if her sister would like to come with her, but she remembered that Seven wasn't particularly happy at being woken up, so she passed her sister's room and headed straight to the bathroom instead.
The door closed softly behind her with a click and she bent down near the sink to bring the stool in front of it so she could see the mirror.
Her reflection smiled back at her. She spent a second repositioning her headband then climbed up on the sink to bring herself closer to the mirror.
She placed her hands carefully on the glass and filled her mind with only thoughts of her favourite dimensions to visit. Wonderland was in her top three.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and pushed on the glass. She felt her hands sink through the glass as if it wasn't even there at all and she knew she was successfully travelling through the looking glass.
She landed in the new dimension with a thud and her chin hitting grass. She huffed for a second, sprawled on the floor before deciding to get up and see where she'd appeared this time.
A smile graced her face as she was met with the sight of large mushrooms and flowers with faces, and larger than normal animals wandering about, minding their business.
She'd landed in Wonderland. How wonderful.
The sounds of soft clip-clopping on the grass drew her attention and she turned around, curious. The green grass tickled her bare feet, her grey pyjama bottoms brushing the tops of her feet.
Just ahead of her, she saw a baby deer with beautiful white spots all over its short brown fur.
Eight held her hand out to the baby deer, wanting it to come closer to her so she could pet it, but the deer eyed her hand mistrustfully and then scampered off elsewhere, through the thick foliage.
"Oh, well," Eight shrugged, unbothered. "Let's explore."
Looking around, she chose a direction at random and walked off down a pathway through tall trees. She hadn't come across anyone other than the deer thus far, but she was sure she'd find someone soon. After all, Wonderland was full of interesting people/animals.
On the other end of the pathway, Eight found a long, tall rock wall that spread far on either direction. However, in the centre of it was a carefully cut rectangular doorway with a handle on what was apparently a door, but looked like a rock.
Eight tilted her head.
"That's curious," she said aloud, "but then again, everything in Wonderland is curious."
With a shrug, she strode forward and towards the doorway in the rocky wall. She paused for a short moment just in front of the door and looked either direction, considering. Then, she took the door handle, turned it and pulled the door open.
On the other side of the door was nothing she could have expected and her mouth fell open in disbelief. It was some form of a fancy garden with a beautiful gazebo and colourful roses everywhere and red chairs with hearts. On the other end of the garden was a lovely little stone water fountain with three tiers.
The grass beneath her bare feet was perfectly cut, each blade of grass almost definitely the same size.
Eight couldn't help herself and she ran forward, took a rose in her hand and smelled it. It was divine.
As she turned around, however, she spotted something she hadn't before. Well, two somethings. People. Two men dressed in odd clothes, all black with hoods, and wearing what looked like large playing cards on their torsos. They both held paint brushes and they were painting white roses red.
"Excuse me, sirs," Eight said, a little frown on her face.
The men stopped painting the roses and turned to face her.
"Could you tell me why you're painting those roses red?" Eight asked.
"Well, the fact is," one of the men said, "you see, this here ought to have been a red rose bush and we planted white roses by mistake."
Eight couldn't help but notice that the men looked worried.
"Yes, and if the Queen was to find out she'd cut our heads off, you know?" The other man chimed in along with a slicing motion across his throat.
Suddenly, before Eight could reply to the men, another man came running up to them, all panic-stricken.
"The Queen! The Queen!" He warned them.
The men ran away from the rose bushes and through a bush arch, into another part of the garden. Eight couldn't help but follow them and the sound of trumpets. In all her visits to Wonderland, she'd never met or even heard of any Queens until now. If she had, she might have paid her a visit. She might have even brought Number Three with her. Everyone knew Three was obsessed with famous people.
Eight crouched behind a white stone wall with the playing card men, peeking around it to try and spy the Queen.
On the other side of the garden was a set of stone steps, down which several men dressed in royal red clothes were coming. They each had a trumpet to their lips which they were playing.
After playing a little tune on the trumpets, the men descended the rest of the stairs and split up to stand on either side of the stairs. Following the first four men, several other people followed. Some dressed as jesters and dancing crazily, others dressed as princesses though Eight knew they weren't really royalty.
Finally, more men dressed up as playing cards descended the stairs holding long sticks that had flags on them.
Hopping down the stairs as the playing cards stood aside, Eight recognised the white rabbit from her first-ever visit to Wonderland. He jumped around, almost drawing Eight's eyes away from the last two people to come down the stairs.
Coming down the stairs, hand in hand, was undoubtedly the King and Queen. Well, more than one King and Queen, Eight noticed with confusion.
The first two were wearing black and white clothes, whilst the duo that followed behind them was wearing red and white. The two behind them were also wearing red and white. There were so many descending the stairs that Eight began to lose count. Her mind was reeling.
They all gathered around in the garden, smiling and dancing as Eight and the playing card men remained hidden behind the wall off to the left.
The playing card men behind Eight began to back up as the royalty began to spread out through the rest of the garden and began to get closer to where they were hiding. Then, suddenly, much to Eight's dismay, the bumbling men bumped into each other and all toppled over with yells of surprise.
Eight looked back at them with mild annoyance as the chatter in the garden slowly stopped and then, when she looked back, everyone was looking at her.
One of the Kings and Queens, one of the red ones, stalked over to Eight and stopped in front of her.
"Who is this?" The Queen demanded of the King.
"Uh, who is who?" The King asked.
"This child, idiot," the Queen snapped at the King, then rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Eight. "What is your name, child?"
"My name is Number Eight, your majesty," Eight took hold of the sides of her trousers and attempted a curtsey, though it probably would have worked better if she'd been wearing a skirt.
"Number Eight?" The Queen repeated. "That's not a name, it's a number, girl."
"It is so!" Eight retorted, with a flare of irritation. "It's my name."
The Queen looked like she'd swallowed something sour, and Eight slightly regretted her words, but then her face straightened out and she focused her attention on the playing cards on the floor instead.
"And who are these idiots?" She demanded.
"How should I know?" Eight shrugged. "It's no business of mine."
"Off with her head!" The Queen ordered and Eight gawped.
Off with her head? Was that allowed? What would happen if she died in a dimension that wasn't her own? She and her father had never tested anything like that.
Alarm filled her and she watched as the King began to protest on her behalf, but the Queen was quick to interrupt him angrily, stamping her staff on the ground with each word.
"Do you hear me? Off with her head!" The Queen shouted.
"Nonsense!" Eight protested, dipping into her Academy training in hopes of worming her way out of her situation.
Everyone gasped and murmured amongst themselves while the Queen looked down at her in shock.
"'Nonsense'?" She mimicked Eight. "Oh, just for that, off with her head in small implements!"
"Come now, dear," the King protested, "she's only a child."
"Did you think that I was under the impression that she was an alligator? Of course, she's a child. And a remarkably rude one," the Queen retorted, "and if there's one thing that I cannot stand, it's insubordination and impertinence!"
"That's two things, your majesty," Eight pointed out smugly.
The three playing cards on the floor behind her sniggered.
The Queen pushed Eight out of the way in order to come face to face with the playing card men.
"What? Laughing? Stop it! Stop it, right now!" The Queen kicked the closest playing card then immediately yelped in pain. "Ow! Off with their heads, too!"
The Queen limped away from the playing cards and Eight, limping slightly, while the King followed and tried to persuade her not to kill anyone.
"That's rather drastic, isn't it, dear?" He asked.
"When there are people who have the nerve to deceive your or not believe you, there's one response that's rather run: off with their heads!" The Queen responded.
"What about the population?" The King pointed out.
"You must be firm," the Queen said.
"I'm always firm, my dear."
"Squirm. That's what they'll do when they see that they've been fired," the Queen continued, "or worse. Nevermind negotiation. Just a glance about and shout 'Off with their heads!'"
"You make it all sound so simple," the King said.
"It is simple, my dear, they're all simple-minded."
Eight huffed and crossed her arms.
"You're right, my dear," the King agreed.
"I'm always right. Didn't I tell you this morning that heads would roll?"
"Yes, but heads don't roll as they used to. They just... clump down on the ground and stay there" the King said.
Eight made a face of disgust from where she was now hiding behind someone else. She'd rather not be noticed and have her life threatened anymore, yet she didn't want to leave just yet.
"Ah, yes," the Queen said, as though remembering something. "That impertinent child. Number Eight?"
Eight peered around from behind the woman she was hiding and caught the Queen's eyes.
"Could you come here a minute, dear?" The Queen beckoned her forwards and warily, Eight followed.
"Can you play croquet?" The Queen asked.
"Yes, your majesty, although I shouldn't be able to if I had no head," Eight said, and couldn't help the quip at the end.
She'd played croquet a few times in the past when her father had been out on business trips. Mother had taught her the rules and Eight, along with Five and Two, had caught on pretty quickly.
"If you think such conditions are going to make me change my mind, you are quite mistaken," the Queen said, "your head is as good as gone, but since you still have it, we might as well put it to some sensible use."
Eight rolled her eyes discreetly as the Queen turned around.
"Come along, to the game," she told Eight then continued on her way out of the garden.
Ten or so minutes later, Eight found herself in a different part of the garden. She was beginning to think the garden was a lot bigger than she'd realised.
As she wandered around, awaiting the game of croquet she was supposed to be playing, the white rabbit approached her. He was fanning himself with his fan.
"It's a lovely day, isn't it?" He said.
"The Queen seems to be enjoying it," Eight said, "she likes to chop off heads."
"She's very excitable," the white rabbit agreed, "she even ordered her dear friend, the Duchess', execution."
"What for?" Eight asked.
"Did you say, 'what a pity'?" The White Rabbit asked.
"No, I said, "what for?"" Eight repeated herself.
"Oh, it was a dreadful offence," the White Rabbit told her, "she boxed the Queen's ears."
Eight couldn't help the snicker that escaped her. Immediately, the White Rabbit shushed her and Eight stopped.
"Be quiet or the Queen'll hear you," he told her, "See, what happened was, the Queen came rather late and the Queen said to her-"
"What is that?" The Queen's voice interrupted the Rabbit's tale. Eight and the Rabbit looked over to her and found her staring at them. "Who is doing all of that gibbering and jabbering back there?"
"O-Oh, we mean no disrespect, your majesty," the Rabbit stuttered, "gibbering and jabbering, you say? Well, I was gibbering and the young lady was jabbering."
"Well, take your places and prepare for a game of croquet," the Queen ordered as she discarded her cloak.
The Rabbit ushered her forward and they both found their places with the other guests and some flamingos (Eight found that rather curious, but who was she to say what animals the Queen had standing around?).
One of the other Queens approached her and bent slightly, placing her hands on her knees to be face to face with Eight.
"So, tell me, Eight, are you a skilful croquet player?" The Queen asked.
"Well, I do beat my siblings sometimes," Eight admitted. "Who's the best player here?"
"I really don't know," the Queen admitted, casting a glance at the others, "Her majesty always manages to win and if anyone ever gets close, it's always the same thing- "off with their heads"."
Eight winced and watched dolefully as the Queen walked away to mingle with the others.
Looking around, Eight tried to find the equipment to prepare for the game, but she couldn't see any anywhere so she sighed and turned to the King beside her.
"Excuse me, your majesty," she addressed him, "I don't see any mallets. What are we going to use for mallets?"
"These flamingos, of course," the Queen said obviously.
"Of course," the King agreed.
Eight frowned in confusion, eyeing the flamingos.
"And what will we use for croquet balls?"
"Guinea pigs," the King held up a grey Guinea pig in his hand.
"What are we to use as wickets?" Eight pressed. "We have to hit the ball through something, right?"
"Wickets, assume your positions!" The Queen announced.
The guards standing nearby leant over and placed their hands on the grass, assuming an arch position.
"Oh, this one moved much too slowly. Off with his head!" The Queen pointed to the 'wicket' closest to her.
"They're dreadfully fond of beheading people here," Eight whispered to the Rabbit with a grin, "I have to wonder how there's anybody left with a head."
"You, impertinent child," the Queen glared at her as she positioned the head of a flamingo near the Guinea pig, "wipe that smile off your face."
Eight cockily swiped a hand over her face, quite literally wiping her smile away.
The Queen hit the Guinea pig with her flamingo, sending it through the arches made by the guards.
"Is that smile gone?" The Queen asked, watching the Guinea pig.
"Yes, my dear, but it seems to have appeared elsewhere," the King answered slowly.
Eight looked up to where the King had pointed and saw a familiar floating head, smiling away. With a smile of her own, she ran over to the head.
"It's the Cheshire Cat!" Eight announced. "Hello, Chesire Cat."
"Hello. How do you like the Queen?" The Cat asked.
"Not at all," Eight admitted in a whisper. "I don't like the act of losing my head. Do you?"
"I could hardly afford that," the Cheshire said.
"I say, what is that thing?" The King joined them and pointed at the Cheshire Cat.
"It's a friend of mine," Eight told him, "a Cheshire cat. Allow me to introduce you."
"I'd rather not if you don't mind," the King said then turned to the Queen who had just wandered over, "my dear, may I introduce you to another of your subjects?"
"No, you may not," the Queen said. "Ugh, off with his head whoever or whatever it is. And off with his tail, too. There's more than one way to skin a cat, you know."
"I'm afraid he hadn't got a tail, my dear. You can't behead something that has no body," the King pointed out.
"Well, you can try," the Queen said, "and exactly who is the owner of this monster?" "
"I think it belongs to the Duchess, your majesty," Eight inputted, "perhaps you'd better ask her about it."
"That shouldn't be difficult, dear," the King chuckled.
The Queen pursed her lips.
"Fetch the Duchess here!" She ordered. "And be quick about it!"
Eight watched the King and Queen leave before turning back to the Cat. He grinned widely at her and then faded out if sight. Eight had no idea where he'd gone or if he'd even disappeared at all, but she could no longer see him so she sighed.
"I should probably get home," she said to herself, "who knows how long it's been."
Before she could give the thought any more consideration, she noticed a woman hurrying down the stairs across the garden. She was wearing a large hat and holding her skirts up a little so she could get down the stairs quicker.
Eight decided she wanted to meet her before she left so she crossed the garden quickly and approached the woman just as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
"Oh, as I live and breathe," the woman said, "well, keep it up. If it isn't the little one. How are you, my dear?"
"As well as can be expected," Eight answered honestly. "And yourself?"
"Ah, you're thinking," the woman said, "which means you forget to talk. Well, I can't tell you just now the moral to that, but I'll remember in a bit."
Despite her confusion, Eight went along with whatever the woman was talking about.
"Perhaps it hasn't one?" Eight shrugged.
The woman turned slightly and shoved away from the man who Eight assumed to be her guard. Then, she took Eight gently by the shoulders and guided her away from the guard.
"Well, everything has a moral. You just have to find it. Well, the moral to that is... Tis love," the woman span around, "tis love! Tis love that makes the world spin-"
Quickly, the woman stopped her singing when someone approached them, arms crossed and face unhappy.
Eight frowned at the sight of the Queen, arms crossed and glaring at the woman beside her.
"Well, if it isn't her majesty," the woman curtseyed.
"Well, it is is," the Queen said, "and that being the case, would you be good enough to grovel?"
"Grovel?" The woman repeated at the same time Eight's expression went from a frown to one of annoyance.
"Yes. Right here on the gravel," the Queen confirmed.
The woman turned away from the Queen and to Eight.
"Do you think I'm ready for gravel grovelling?" She asked.
"No, I give you a choice. Either you or your head must be off and at once," the Queen snapped.
"Oh, I accept your generous offer, your majesty," the woman smiled and then turned and stalked away, back up the steps and out of the garden.
"Bad riddance to good rubbish," the Queen said.
Eight chuckled and began walking with the Queen.
"With all due respect, your majesty. I think you've got that backwards," she said.
"Oh, have I?" The Queen rose an eyebrow. "Bad rubbish to good riddance."
"No," Eight smiled, "it's good riddance to bad rubbish."
"What a mockery," the Queen said, "and speaking of mockery, have you met the Mocked Turtle yet?"
"I don't think so," Eight considered, "I don't even know what a mock turtle is."
That was true. In all her times visiting Wonderland, she'd never once met a mock turtle- whatever it was.
"Why it's the thing Mock Turtle soup is made from," the Queen informed her, "oh, you must meet him. Now, you just follow that path and you'll see him. I must attend to some executions."
Eight rolled her eyes as the Queen stalked off, back in the direction she'd come from. Eight briefly considered going after her and attempting to stop the executions, just like her father would have told her to had he been there, but she knew she was out of her depth by herself and if she wanted to keep her head, she would have to let it go this once.
With a sigh, she wandered off in the direction the Queen had pointed.
Eight found the Mock Turtle with the help of a Griffin she bumped into along the way. She mistook him for the Mock Turtle and he informed that he wasn't who she was looking for, then guided her in the right direction.
The Mock Turtle was a melancholic turtle who believed there was too much seriousness in the world and he went on and on about it for a few minutes before a voice interrupted him, announcing a trial.
Eight had no intention of attending a trial, but the Griffin dragged her back through the forest anyway and towards where the trial was taking place.
It turned out the trial was called by the Queen. There were a lot of attendees and a panel of duck judges, and several playing card guards scattered about the place.
The Griffin guided her to a couple of empty seats up the front and they both sat down.
Her eyes locked on to a plate of doughnuts up the front by the Queen and she licked her lips hungrily. She barely ever got to eat anything nice and sugary like a doughnut and whenever she did, it was because either Mom or Pogo had given it to her and her siblings. That only happened once in a blue moon, though.
"I wish they'd get the trial done and hand out the refreshments," Eight said to the Griffin, to which he nodded.
She looked over at the ducks on the judging panel and noticed them writing things down.
"They can't have anything to write down before the trial has even begun, can they?" Eight frowned.
"They're writing down the names in case they forget them before the end of the trial," the Griffin informed her.
Eight thought that was awfully incompetent, but what did she know? She sighed and faced the front where the King and Queen were sitting.
From his seat, the King banged his gavel on the wood beside him. Immediately, everyone began to quieten down and pay attention.
"Silence in the court!" The White Rabbit yelled.
"Harold, read the accusations," the King told the White Rabbit.
The Rabbit, wearing a red playing card with red hearts on it, took a scroll and unravelled it in front of his face, then began reading aloud the accusations.
"The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts, all on a summer's day. The Knave of Heart, he stole the tarts, and took them quite away," the Rabbit announced.
It was only then that Eight noticed the chained up man off to the side, stood beside a guard. He looked annoyed, which Eight could understand considering he was chained up on account of eating some tarts.
How silly, she thought.
"Consider your verdict," the King told the jury.
"Oh, not yet your majesty, there's still more to come," the Rabbit told the King.
"Really?" The King asked. "Okay. Call the first witness!"
"Call the first witness!" The White Rabbit repeated, louder.
From the left of the garden/ court, guards guided three people out. They each came as a surprise to Eight because she hadn't seen either of them for a few visits, their faces she immediately recognised. The first, at the front of the line, was the Mad Hatter. He looked exactly the same as he had when she'd last seen him with his top had and chequered suit.
Behind him followed the dormouse with his big ears and whiskers, then came the March Hare.
The crowd erupted into cheers and applause at the sight of the three, and Eight couldn't help but cheer and smile with them. The three grinned and encouraged the crowd as they were guided passed by the guards, while the Hatter didn't spill a drop of his tea.
"I beg your pardon, your majesty," the Hatter said when he was deposited at the stand, "I was just finishing my tea when they dragged me in here."
"You should have finished your tea. When did you begin?" The King asked.
"The 14th of March, I think it was," the Hatter stuttered.
"15th!" The March Hare protested.
"16th!" The dormouse claimed.
"Don't be impertinent. Give your evidence or Ill have you executed on the spot," the King told the Hatter then turned to the Queen, "oh, my dear, did you hear that?"
"Bravo!" The Queen praised.
"Your honour," the Hatter said, "I'm a very poor man and I had just begun my tea not more than a week or so ago-"
Eight made a face of disgust and turned to the Griffin beside her. He pulled a face.
"-and what with the bread and butter getting thinner, and the twinkling of the tea-"
"The twinkling of the what?" The King interrupted the Hatter.
“It began with the tea,” the Hatter explained.
“Well, of course, twinkling begins with a ‘T’,” the King agreed. “Everybody knows that. Do you think I’m a dunce?”
Eight shook her head. Trying to follow the conversation was practically giving her a headache.
“Your honour,” the Hatter began again, “I’m a poor man and most things began to twinkle after that. Only the March Hare said-“
“-I didn’t!” The March Hare denied.
Eight blinked and looked at the March Hare, leaning on the Hatter’s podium.
“You did!”
“I didn’t!”
“You did!”
“I didn’t!”
Eight watched them with wide eyes. Surely they weren’t allowed to argue in the court?
“You did! Why deny it? Be a good sport,” the Hatter told the Hare. “I’ll explain it to all of the court. I offered you tea and you drank a quart.”
“I didn’t! I didn’t!” The Hare denied again.
“You did!” The Hatter claimed.
“I didn’t!”
The Queen slammed her fan down on her lap, and the Hatter and Hare stopped.
“He denies it,” the King announced, “strike it out.”
The Hare laughed.
“Your Majesty,” the Hatter tried as he lowered himself to his knees on the podium. “I’m a very poor man.”
“You’re a very poor speaker, too,” the King retorted.
Immediately, the court erupted into laughter.
Eight looked around her and frowned.
Her eyes fell back to the Hatter on the podium and she felt pitiful, however, the Hatter merely laughed along despite the quip aimed at him.
“If that’s all you know, you may stand down,” the King told the Hatter over the laughter.
The laughing slowly stopped as everyone awaited the Hatter’s response.
“Stand down, Your Majesty?” The Hatter asked. “But I can hardly get any lower. I’m on the floor as it is.”
Suddenly, the laughing began again. Eight huffed at all of the joking around. Surely this was no place to be joking.
“Well, then, simply go!” The King replied.
“Of course,” the Queen agreed as the Hatter rose, “and just take his head off outside.”
The Hatter froze in his retreat, and Eight gasped quietly. The Queen smiled and began to fan herself with her red fan.
The guards moved around the podium to guide the Hatter away.
“Where he goes, I go!” The March Hare exclaimed.
As the Hatter and March Hare were led away, Eight watched as the Dormouse scampered away in the other direction.
“Call the next witness! Call the next witness!” The White Rabbit shouted.
Suddenly, Eight began to sneeze. She couldn’t stop herself at all! Something must have been filling the air because they just kept coming.
And, when she finally managed to stop, she looked up and spotted a woman being guided to the podium in the Hatter’s place. The woman was wearing an apron and shaking pepper everywhere.
That explained the sneezing, Eight thought.
“Give your evidence,” the King requested.
“No, I won’t,” the woman stated.
The audience began to murmur.
“Your Majesty, you must cross-examine the witness,” the Rabbit told the King.
“Must I?” The King asked.
“Of course you must,” the Queen said.
“Why must I?”
“Because I said so.”
“Of course! That’s different,” the King agreed then turned his attention back to the woman on the podium. “What are tarts made of?”
“What?” The woman asked, confused.
Eight was just as confused and she couldn’t help the way her head tilted slightly.
“Tarts. What is a tart made of?” The Queen asked crossly.
“Well,” the woman began, “tart starts with a T, then you add an A, then you add an R, then you add-“
“No! What are the ingredients?” The Queen objected.
“Oh! Well, pepper. Lots of pepper!” The woman shook her pepper shaker.
Eight’s eyes widened. Tarts were not made from pepper! Her mom had made tarts before and Eight could safely say there was no pepper in them at all.
Maybe.
Did tarts have pepper?
“They most certainly are not!” The Dormouse shouted, running towards the podium. “They are made of treacle!”
Suddenly, the woman on the podium turned her shaker upside down and poured pepper all over the Dormouse.
Eight gasped from the audience as the events unfolded.
The woman continued to claim that tarts were made from pepper while the Dormouse protested that they were made from treacle.
“Off with his head!” The Queen angrily exclaimed, pointing her fan at the Dormouse. “And after that, pinch off his whiskers. And off with her head too!”
The woman and the Dormouse were then led from the courtyard, still arguing over the ingredients of a tart.
Eight shook her head and shared a look with the Griffin beside her.
“Have we a verdict?” The King asked the ducks.
Eight tuned back in and frowned.
Before she could think, she rose to her feet and strode towards the King and Queen, only stopping when she was a few feet from the bottom of the steps.
“You haven’t got any evidence yet,” she told them.
“Silence!” The King slammed his hammer.
Eight frowned and opened her mouth to retort, but then she began to feel funny.
She wrapped her arms around her stomach as her insides squirmed. She felt slightly sick, and her entire body felt strange.
She groaned, pained.
“What’s the matter?” The Griffin asked from beside her. “What’s the matter?”
Out of nowhere, Eight began to grow. Not for the firs time in Wonderland, she rose and rose, increasing in not just height but size until, soon enough, she was towering over everyone.
“You’re growing, young lady,” a black cat pointed out, shocked.
“But I didn’t eat a piece of mushroom or drink anything,” Eight replied.
“There’s no doubt about it,” the Griffin said, “you’re growing up.”
“But I haven’t had my birthday yet,” Eight said, “I’m still nine!”
“Can you still hear me up there?” The Rabbit shouted. “Eight, you’re the next witness!”
“I can hear you,” Eight answered worriedly.
She peered down at everyone, brows furrowed and arms still wrapped around her torso.
She tried her hardest to ignore the mean words from the audience.
“What do you know about this business?”The King asked.
“Nothing,” Eight answered honestly.
It was true, too, because she’d not been back in Wonderland for long.
“Nothing whatever?”
“Nothing whatever.”
“That’s very important,” the King said.
“How could it possibly be important?” Eight asked, amused.
“Unimportant, Your Majesty means, of course,” the Rabbit leant over and told the King.
“Unimportant, I meant, of course,” the King repeated.
The audience quietly agreed with nods of their head. Eight pursed her lips, unimpressed.
“Rule 42!” The King declared. “All persons over a mile high are to leave the court.”
“I’m not a mile high!” Eight claimed.
“Yes, you are,” the King retorted.
“I most certainly am not!”
“Nearly two miles high!” The Queen added.
“I don’t mean to be rude, Your Highness, but you really don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eight said. “Besides, it’s not a regular rule; you invented it just now!”
“Young lady, that is the oldest rule in the book,” the King said.
“Then it ought to be number one!” Eight huffed.
“Give me a verdict. Give me a verdict!” The King ordered.
Immediately, the birds began chatting amongst themselves, glancing at their notes. Eight watched them with furrowed brows and wondered, silently, how things had come to this.
She’d merely wanted a quick trip to Wonderland while her family was asleep. Suddenly, she wondered how long it had been back in her world.
She gulped and nervously fidgeted with her fingers.
“But there’s more evidence to come yet,” the Rabbit told the King. “Please, Your Majesty. A ver important envelope has just been found!”
Eight rolled her eyes then settled them on said envelope in the Rabbit’s paw.
She looked down at the man in chains surrounded by guards.
“Why don’t you just let the prisoner go?” She questioned. “You can see he’s a nice man.”
“What’s in the envelope?” The Queen asked.
“Your Majesty, a set of verses!” The Rabbit claimed.
Eight pursed her lips, reached down, and took the envelope from the Rabbit’s paws. She scanned her eyes over the small paper with even smaller font, and frowned.
“The Knave didn’t sign them,” she said, “in fact, nobody did!”
“That proves his guilt!” The Queen exclaimed. “Off with his head! Off with his head!”
Righteous frustration bubbled within Eight and she scowled at the Queen.
“It doesn’t prove anything!” She retorted. “And you really ought to stop yelling ‘off with everybody’s head’. It's a terrible habit you have!”
Surprised murmurs suddenly erupted throughout the courtyard, and Eight glanced at everybody. They all looked shocked by her outburst.
Eight didn’t know why, because if she were in their situation, she’d rather keep her head.
“Silence! Silence!” The King ordered.
The courtyard quickly quieted down.
“Just set the prisoner free and let him go home,” Eight requested. “His family probably misses him very much, and one of the worst feelings in the world is to be homesick.”
Eight’s heart clenched as she thought about her siblings and her mother, and how long she must’ve been gone by now.
Time worked very differently between her realms, and with how long she’d been in Wonderland now, she was frightened to return home and find everything had changed without her.
That her siblings had forgotten her, even.
Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at the King and Queen.
“I ought to know,” she mumbled.
“Give me a verdict. Give me a verdict!” The King addressed the birds again.
Eight huffed.
“How can they give a verdict when there isn’t a bit of meaning in this whole trial?” She demanded.
Her father would be very upset that she hadn’t sorted this situation out yet, and that she hadn’t taken control.
“Oh, well if there’s no meaning, that saves us a world of trouble,” the King decided, turning to the Queen. “We don’t have to try and find any.”
The Queen nodded.
“Sentence first, verdict after!” She called, waving her fan around.
Eight’s eyes widened.
“Are you crazy?” She demanded. “You can’t have the sentence first!”
“Hold your tongue!” The Queen shouted.
“No, I won’t hold my tongue!” Eight snapped. “Hold yours!”
Everybody in the courtyard gasped.
“Off with her head! Off with her head!”
Well, Eight expected that, really. But she was not about to lose her head to a crazy lady.
The playing card guards all ran towards her, but from Eight’s perspective, they all looked like little ants. That didn’t stop their weapons hurting, though.
Eight looked down at them.
“I’m not afraid of you. You’re nothing but a pack of cards!” She told the guards.
Clenching her jaw, she began to kick back at the cards, sending some of them tumbling over.
More and more guards pooled in until soon, they were surrounding her feet, jabbing at her with their spears.
“Stop it! You wicked little things!”
Having enough, Eight turned tail and ran.
With her size, she made quick progress and very soon, she was out of the courtyard.
She came across what would most likely have been a small forest if she were her normal size, though it currently looked like a bush.
She ran through it, pushing through spiky trees and ticklish leaves.
When, all of a sudden, the forest began to grow. Or… she began to shrink again.
Then, wham!
She tripped over a root and ended up face first on the forest floor. As she looked up, worried and not nearly far enough away from the guards, she was met with the sight of countless playing cards floating down around her.
Slowly, she stood to her feet and looked around her.
As she turned around, she locked her eyes on a very familiar building. A smile lit up her face and she began to sprint towards it.
Her feet were still bare and with every footstep, the stone beneath them hurt, but she continued onwards anyway until she barged through the doors to her very own home and stumbled through into the foyer.
“Guys, I’m home!” She called excitedly, though not without a hint of anxiety. “Seven! Five! Anybody?”
She ran straight for the stairs, seeing no one in the sitting room, and bounded up them two at a time until she reached the top.
“Father? Pogo? Anybody?”
The house was eerily silent, so unlike how it should be. She slowed her pace to a walk, looking up and down the corridor in search of anybody.
“Hello?” She called.
As she made her way down the corridor, she began to hear voices. Quiet, like a hushed conversation not meant to be heard by outsiders.
But this was Eight’s home and she’d be damned if she was left out of any discussions between her siblings.
Picking up her pace again, she hurried towards Three’s room and threw the door open, intent on catching her siblings in the act when they’d just ignored her calling for them.
But there was nobody there. The room was empty.
“Guys?” She questioned aloud. “Where are you?”
She could still hear them, talking. Talking about her.
“It’s been three weeks, Two,” she recognised One’s voice. “She’s not coming back.”
“But she always comes back,” Four said.
Slowly, Eight turned to face Three’s mirror, the direction of the voices. And there they were, her siblings.
With wide eyes, Eight rushed towards the mirror and planted her hands on the glass, but she couldn’t push back theough.
“Guys? It’s me, Eight!” She called in the hopes they’d hear her.
Teary eyed, she glanced back behind her where her siblings weren’t sitting. Then she looked at the mirror and settled her eyes back on her siblings.
“I can’t get back through!” She shouted, pounding on the glass with her fists. “My powers aren’t working! I can’t come back! Five! One! Help me!”
But her siblings couldn’t hear her. They merely continued their conversation as if she weren’t there.
“Guys, I’m here!” She yelled desperately. “I’m right here, on the other side of the mirror! Listen to me!”
“We should all get back to our chores,” Three decided. “Or father will notice.”
“You’re right,” One nodded.
All of her siblings got up from where they were sitting in Three’s room and began to trail out, intent on returning to their duties.
“What?” Eight breathed. “No, don’t go. I’m right here! Notice me, please!”
Three stopped, half way to the door and turned to Four and Five who were behind her.
“Did you two hear that?” She asked, eyes trailing over her brother’s heads to her vanity.
“Hear what?” Four asked.
“Yes, it’s me!” Eight cried. “I’m right here, Three! Help me!”
Three stared at the mirror for a second before shaking her head and smiling.
“Nothing,” she said, “I thought I heard something.”
Then she exited the room with her brothers.
Left alone, Eight leant away from the mirror and swallowed back the lump in her throat. She wiped away the beginnings of tears and shook her head.
“Why couldn’t they hear me?” She whispered to herself as she took a seat at Three’s vanity.
Eight didn’t have a vanity in her room because she didn’t care about nail polish or jewellery. She merely had a mirror which she used to straighten her bow and brush her hair.
That was enough for her.
She let her eyes wonder over Three’s vanity for a moment, taking in all of the jewellery and nail polish, and other things.
Then her eyes settled on a book sitting at the edge of the vanity with a black, velvet cover and golden clasp to keep it closed.
“Curious and curiouser,” she muttered.
Reaching forward, she brought the book in front of herself and unclasped the clasp.
The font looked like something she might find in an old English newspaper, and it was very large.
She frowned at the title.
“Jabberwocky,” she read aloud with confusion then flipped the page. “Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe, all mimsy were borogoves. And the mome raths outgrabe. Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite and the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjib bird, and shun the frumious Bandersnatch!”
Eight slowly looked away from the old book.
“What an odd poem,” she decided.
All of a sudden, thunder boomed from outside and the lights flickered, plunging her into darkness with only the lightening outside to illuminate the room in flashes.
She rose from Three’s vanity to wander to the window and take a look outside.
The sky was grey and every so often, with the thunder and lightening, it lit up white. The trees of the courtyard were blowing in the wind, nearly toppling over from the force.
Eight’s heart pounded and she stepped away.
“We’ve never had a storm like this,” she said. “But it’s not scary. At all.”
A roar erupted from behind her and Eight whirled around in time to see a horrific monster in the doorway of Three’s room.
A scream tore from her throat at the sight of the creature.
Its eyes were red like fire, its jaw was wide enough to reveal a set of razor sharp teeth. It had giant wings and knife-like claws.
“What - what are you?” She whispered.
Then the creature roared again, pushing through the doorway into the room. Thinking fast, Eight dove towards the mirror and planted her palms against it, hoping against hope that it would work this time.
There was a ripple against her palm and she grinned, looking back at what could only be the Jabberwock.
And then, whoosh!
She was pulled back through the looking glass with a mighty pull, dragging her away from the beast and its sharp teeth, right back to the real world. Three’s real bedroom.
She was deposited straight onto Three’s vanity where she fell off and onto the floor.
“Ouch,” she mumbled, rubbing her elbow.
Slowly, she stood up and looked up at the ceiling. The lights were off when they hadn’t been a moment ago. She looked back at the vanity and noticed a thin layer of dust coating it, only disturbed where she’d just tumbled off of it.
“Three weeks,” she recalled One saying. “That’s an awful lot of dust for three weeks…”