Wonder (Insanity Book 5) Read online

  “Wait,” the Queen said.

  “Yes?” The woman turned around

  “You know what you will do when I ask for you, right?” The Queen smirked.

  “Yes, I do.” The woman smirked and walked away.

  The Queen felt exceptionally euphoric. She jumped in place and yelled at the top of her lungs, “Guards!”

  A couple of them hurried into the room.

  “Off with your head!” she ordered.

  The guards looked perplexed, staring at each other. “Which of our heads do you want to chop off, My Queen? Me or him?”

  “Who cares.” She waved a hand and sat on her throne. “I just want to see a head roll before me. Now!”

  Chapter 25

  THE FUTURE: OXFORD ASYLUM

  I am lying on a patient’s bed, rolled by a young doctor inside the asylum. The doctor is signing my admission papers, telling the nurses I’m a sane person caught outside. Turns out the Queen ordered all sane people into asylums all over the world. Sane people are fed well inside until their turn comes to attend Westminster Circus, where the mad take revenge on the sane.

  Whatever all of this means.

  The doctor finishes the papers and starts rolling me inside. The doctor is not really a doctor. He is the Pillar possessing a young doctor’s soul.

  The deal the Pillar made was to let the Cheshire help him possess another person’s soul so we could figure out our way into the asylum. I didn’t know it before, but the soul-possessing gift can be passed. The Cheshire never told it to anyone. He only agreed because he thinks he loves me. And the Pillar, being the Pillar, took immoral advantage of that.

  “Don’t move until I find a way to get to that Mock Turtle,” the Pillar says in the doctor’s voice. Poor, handsome doctor, blond hair, well built, under the Pillar’s influence now.

  “How are you going to find him?” I ask.

  “The lesser-practiced art of asking, dear Alice,” the Pillar says. “It works like a charm when you’re good looking.”

  He stops by a couple of nurses. “Sweeties,” I hear him say. “Looking fantastic today.”

  “Oh.” One of them blushes — I tilt my head to see her. She is a redhead. “Thank you, doctor. What was your name again?”

  Oops. We didn’t ask before the Pillar possessed him.

  “Call me doctor.” The Pillar smiles.

  “Doctor?” the other one, shorter, with thick glasses, asks.

  “Of course. Dr. Doctor,” the Pillar says. “Instead of James, Jack, or John. Boring, right?”

  They giggle. “How can we help you, Dr. Doctor?”

  “See how sweet the words drool out of your sugary mouth?” he says.

  I close my eyes, roll them behind my eyelids, and try not to laugh.

  “You’re so sweet,” the shorter one says.

  “Did you ever hear about that patient, Mock Turtle?” the Pillar says.

  “Of course,” the bigger nurse says. “Pfff. The revolutionist.”

  “Revolutionist?”

  “You don’t go out much to the real world, do you?” the shorter one says. “Never heard about the Inklings?”

  Things are getting weirder by the minute.

  “Excuse my ignorance,” the Pillar says. “But I hate those sane people already.”

  “The Mock Turtle is the leader of the revolution against the Queen,” the bigger one says.

  “Long live the Queen,” the shorter one adds.

  “Of course, long live the Queen,” the Pillar says. “Although she’s too short to live that long,” he says under his breath.

  I wonder about the Inklings in the future. Who is leading them in the future? And why am I in a compound, living a luxurious life away from them? Part of a plan?

  “Do you know where I can find him, sweeties?” the Pillar says.

  “He is in section six,” the shorter one says.

  “And where is that?”

  “The one known as the Door to Wonderland in Christ Church. But you must have heard of it.”

  “Of course I have.” The Pillar fluff-talks them for a few seconds and then rolls my bed ahead.

  “You really know where this Door to Wonderland is?” I say, tilting my head back to look at him.

  “I do. It’s a door near the library that Lewis Carroll used to stare at for hours while writing the book,” the Pillar says. “It’s said that the dean of the university at the time locked it because it was a real door to Wonderland. And…”

  “And what?”

  “It’s supposed to be your favorite place for playing as a child.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes,” the Pillar says. “In fact, it makes sense for this Mock Turtle to wait for you there. If you really keep the keys with him, then the name of the place is like a secret code between you and him. Your favorite childhood place. Makes sense.”

  “Do you think me living in the compound is a camouflage, a trick to hide my true identity in the future, and the Mock Turtle being the leader of the revolution is only to delude the Queen?”

  “We’re about to know in a second.” The Pillar stops.

  I get out of bed and stare at the door he is pointing at. It leads to a garden. A vast one that is the same design as the one in my house at the compound. It looks like another part of Wonderland.

  “I’m very curious about this Mock Turtle now,” I say. “Who could it be?”

  “The last person that would ever cross your mind,” the Pillar says, pointing at him standing in the middle of the garden.

  Chapter 26

  THE PRESENT: MARGARET KENT’S OFFICE

  The phone rang, and Margaret picked it up. “Who is it?”

  “The Cheshire.”

  “What do you want?” she said. “Aren’t you supposed to guard the Inklings until Alice awakes?”

  “Something came up.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m getting signals from Jack’s mind.”

  “Signals?”

  “I can read his mind.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “I’m seeing memories.”

  “I bet they’re all playing cards and None Fu games.”

  “No.” The Cheshire hesitated. Margaret sensed he wasn’t quite himself. Something was happening to him. “They’re mostly about Alice.”

  Margaret shrugged. She stood up, locked her door, and went back to her desk. “Anything useful?”

  “A lot of lovey-dovey memories,” he said. “I’m still digging.”

  “Anything about her being the Real Alice?” she asked eagerly. “Come on, there must a lead in her past to prove it’s her.”

  “You sound too eager to know.”

  “Yes, Cheshire, I want to know.” She gritted her teeth. “You know what it means if it’s hers.”

  “Not really sure,” he lamented. “I’m not that involved in this Wonderland War.”

  “You don’t understand,” Margaret said. “All of the Real Alice’s secrets lay in the few years after the circus. That’s where it all happened. You have to rummage through that wreckage in Jack’s mind. Harder.”

  The Cheshire kept to himself for a while. Margaret couldn’t dismiss the possibility that the infamous cat was warming up to Jack and Alice, even if just a little.

  “Cheshire,” she said. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” He was surely lying. “There is this memory about why Jack came back after she killed him.”

  “And?”

  “I can’t put my finger on it,” the Cheshire said. “But he came back to tell her something so important to him.”

  “Tell her who she really is, maybe?” Margaret leaned back in her chair, a smile curving her lips. “That’s fantastic.”

  “It’s driving me crazy.”

  “You are crazy.”

  “You think so?”

  “‘We’re all mad here.’ Your words, not mine.”

  “Yeah. I forgot.”

  “It’s okay. Just underst
and that things are starting to get really exciting.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t have to. Just figure out why Jack came back, and if she is the Real Alice.” Margaret hung up then closed her eyes.

  The few past weeks she had resisted the idea that the Pillar had found the Real Alice. It was a scary thought to Wonderlanders. But there hadn’t been enough evidence to support it.

  Since Margaret needed all she could bargain with to get her thing back from the Queen, it’d be great if she came across proof that the girl in the asylum was the Real Alice. That would be perfect timing.

  Chapter 27

  THE FUTURE: THE DOOR TO WONDERLAND, OXFORD ASYLUM FOR THE CRIMINALLY SANE

  Like the Pillar said, the Mock Turtle isn’t who I expected him to be. All the scenarios I imagined were out of context. Surprises keep on coming.

  “Is that really him?” I ask the Pillar, pointing at the so-called Mock Turtle.

  “Dr. Tom Truckle himself.” The Pillar is as confused as I am.

  “He is the revolution leader?” I scratch my head, as if I am in a big cartoon show called life. “And how come he is the Mock Turtle?”

  “He likes mock turtle soup a lot,” the Pillar remarks. “We should’ve noticed.”

  I think about it for a moment. The puzzle starts to unfold in my mind. “And there is something else that should have given him away.”

  “What’s that?” the Pillar asks.

  “Tom Truckle is an anagram for Mock Turtle.”

  The Pillar’s eyes glimmer. “Clever. But the question is: did he know he was the Mock Turtle back then when we were in the asylum?”

  “And why did I leave the secret to the keys’ whereabouts with this old, annoying man?”

  “Let’s see.” We walk toward Truckle. “Honestly, he doesn’t look as tense as in the past. Little too old for leading a revolution, though.”

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Tom Truckle says, leaning against a tree in the garden. From what it looks like, this isn’t just a garden. It’s a prison, walled with enormous trees and stinging bushes. There is nowhere to escape. “My wardens will arrive soon. They’ll know who you are.”

  “Do you know who I am?” the Pillar says.

  “Why should I care?” Tom says. “I was talking to Alice.”

  I realize Tom doesn’t know I’m from the past, so I need to play along while I get answers at the same time. “It’s okay, Tom,” I tell him. “Where are the keys?”

  Tom fidgets, pulls out a few pills, swallows them dry. He looks at me. “I can’t talk here,” he whispers. “You have to get me out of here. How did you even get in?” He grabs me by the shoulders. “And why have you left the compound?”

  “Hey,” the Pillar says. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s start with getting you out of here. But first, we need to make sure the keys aren’t here in the asylum.”

  “Who are you?” Tom says.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I tell him. “Stick with me. Are the keys inside the asylum?”

  “No,” Tom says.

  “Then my friend is right. Let’s get you out of here first.”

  “Tell me how, and I’m all yours,” Tom says. He cranes his head over my shoulder, his mouth agape. “Oh, no.”

  “What’s wrong?” I say.

  The Pillar taps me on the shoulder, looking in the same direction behind me. There is a TV hung above the door. It shows the Great Republic of Wonderland news. I’ve been declared a fugitive. Public enemy number one. The Queen has ordered my head chopped off for breaking the treaty and leaving the compound.

  “The deal was that strict?” I ask the Pillar.

  “Like I said, rich people stay in their compound for immunity, but they’re not allowed to ever leave it.”

  “Why would I agree to such terms?”

  The Pillar shrugs. I turn to Tom, and he gives me a look that worries me. He knows something I don’t know. “Show me out first,” he demands.

  Two wardens arrive at the door, one of them whistling a warning. Suddenly the place is head over heels.

  “Alice,” the Pillar says. “I have a great idea how to get out of here.”

  “Please tell me.”

  The Pillar raises an eyebrow and says, “Run!”

  Chapter 28

  When the Pillar says run, you realize you’re in great danger. This is what Tom Truckle does. Even the Pillar himself disappears in the flash of an eye, probably behind the bushes, because this place is actually a small prison of trees and vicious flowers.

  There is nowhere out of here, except climbing over the high walls in the back or through the door we came from.

  I find myself stranded, but unafraid of the Reds by the door. It’s not like I haven’t confronted them before. It’s just never happened with my back against the wall.

  “What are you doing?” Tom Truckle says from behind the bushes. “They’ll kill you. You’re wanted since you broke the treaty and left the compound.”

  What am I doing? Heck, I have no idea. Something inside urges me to fight back. I suppose this is a more experienced version of myself in the future, even with the few pounds I’ve put on.

  One of the Reds steps forward and talks to me from the hollow darkness of his mask. “We don’t have to do this, Mrs. Wonder. If you comply and let me send you back to the compound, everything will be fine.”

  I am about to scratch my head. Just like that, bring me back to the compound? Didn’t the Queen declare me a fugitive? Is that a trick?

  He extends a hand. “Please, will you come with me?”

  “And my friends?”

  “You have no friends in here, Mrs. Wonder,” the Red says. “You’re only a bit confused. Have you taken your medication today?”

  Again? Tiger, my son, asked me if I had taken my pills this morning. What is that all about?

  I resort to silence, readying my fist for a fight.

  “Mrs. Wonder, please don’t,” the Red says.

  “I’m not leaving without my friends. Either you let us go, or else.”

  “I can’t let you go. Queen’s orders. But I can spare you from having your head chopped off and send you back to the compound.” Why do I have a feeling he also fears me?

  “No, I will not comply,” I say.

  The Reds behind him gather and begin to approach me. First the nines, then the eights, the sevens, and so on. There’s about thirty of them in this small garden in Christ Church. I wonder why the Pillar lets me fight alone. I know he can choke them with his hookah.

  The first two Reds run toward me. I find myself curving my body and slightly maneuvering to one side. The two slash the air with their swords, but one hurts the other.

  Well, that was neat. Where did I learn that?

  “Reds!” the leader roars, and four others approach, grunting behind their cloaks. It’s time for a real fight.

  Chapter 29

  This time, and I still don’t know how I am doing this, I run to the nearest tree, and with speed I find myself walk perpendicularly on its surface for a second. Then I somersault back in the air. Just as if I am professional parkour runner, tapping on the edges of walls and trees and walking on thin wires.

  Wow. That feels good.

  Instead of landing back on the ground, I land on their heads. Amazingly, I tap on each Red’s head quickly, breaking them, but never falling to the ground. Then finally, when they’re nothing but empty cloaks crumbled on the grass, I land on my feet. Like a ballerina.

  “Huh.” I rub imaginary dust from my clothes. “Not bad for a thirty-three-year-old mum.”

  “You think you can outsmart all of us?” the leader says. “With that silly None Fu of yours?”

  Oh, so that’s it. None Fu in the future. Pretty dope.

  “Reds!”

  Now it’s ten of them. They’re carrying swords. I don’t carry one because I am swift, agile, and can almost walk on air.

  I raise my hands in the air, as if I were
the Karate Kid. Tension fills the air. They can’t predict my next move. I give in to my inner future powers and let my body do what feels right. This time I am running in their direction. I duck the first sword. Pull the cloak from under a Red. When he disappears, and I have the cloak for myself, I use it against the slashing sword of another Red. The cloak is incredibly uncuttable — a bit elastic, though. I wrap it around the Red’s sword until I force him to let go of it. I catch the sword in midair with one hand while I choke him with the cloak.

  I am so having fun.

  Too stubborn to use the sword, I throw it up in the air and, like a mad ballerina, kick the Reds left and right while binding their cloaks into one another. I’m basically like a hurricane in a cartoon movie, swirling through them, and there is nothing they can do about it.

  I end up with a bunch of Red cloaks that I can make a good, long rope from.

  Standing erect, I finally face the leader of the Reds, now standing alone, pretending he isn’t afraid of me.

  “You think we will spare you, Mrs. Wonder?” he says. “More Reds are on their way.”

  “That’s sad,” I say. “Because you will not have enough time to give them orders.”

  The Reds leader seems confused by my confidence. I raise my head and look for the sword I’d thrown up in the sky. Now it comes down, slashing him in two symmetrical halves.

  Someone claps behind me, applauding my performance. I swirl back to face my next enemy, but it’s only the Pillar, sitting on a chair, smoking a hookah in the middle of the garden. Now back in real Pillar form. No more possessing doctors.

  “You abandoned me,” I say. “I fought them all alone while you smoked your hookah?”

  “It’s a good one, trust me.” He takes a drag. “Moroccan tobacco, brewed and chewed and extracted from a forty-year-old virgin plant.”

  I turn and look at Tom Truckle hiding behind the trees. “It’s time for you to talk to me.” I pull him out.

  “Not before you get me out of here,” Tom says. “More of them are coming.”