Seeing Redd

CHAPTER 27

H ATTER FOLLOWED Arch’s bodyguards out of the Sin Bin Gaming Club and across a dusty street

to a tent repair shop that was itself in need of repair. Blister took up position on one side of the entrance, Ripkins on the other, and the Milliner pushed aside the tent flap and stepped inside.

“Hatter Madigan,” King Arch said.

He instinctively calculated his odds: Arch; the nervous proprietor hunched over a patching machine; the two assassins out front; probably reinforcements nearby. Not the greatest situation, but Hatter had faced worse.

“Where are the Ganmedes I’m to negotiate with?”

“They couldn’t make it. But I have the power to deal on their behalf. I assume you have the power to negotiate for your queen?”

Hatter gave no indication either way.

“Ripkins!” Arch shouted, and when the called-for guard entered the tent: “Escort our host across the street for a drink.”

“N-no, that’s all right,” said the proprietor, “I’m not thirsty.” But Ripkins had already stepped up to him and taken hold of his elbow. “I mean, I’m not not thirsty. Sometimes I don’t realize how thirsty I am until I have a drink, and then it’s as if I could drink an entire…”

The proprietor’s words were lost to the world outside. Hatter and Arch were alone. Reinforcements would never make it in time. All Hatter had to do was flick his wrist and the king would be dead.

“I wonder how Alyss and the others reacted to hearing that the great Millinery man had secretly fathered a child,” Arch mused.

“And I wonder how the great King Arch knew about it.”

Arch laughed. “That is a question that will soon be answered, my Millinery friend. I prefer questions that have definite answers, don’t you? As opposed to abstract ones concerning the meaning and purpose of life, blah blah blah. You’d probably like to know that your daughter is being adequately taken care of.”

“I want to see her.”

“As would I, were our places reversed. Unfortunately, I’m unable to accommodate your request. The Ganmedes are clever. They’ve asked me to negotiate for them, but they haven’t told me where they’re keeping her.”

“There are no Ganmede kidnappers,” Hatter said through tightened jaw. “Not unless they’re working for

you.”

“No? Well, they’ll be surprised to learn of their nonexistence. But if you’re so sure, why don’t you take me prisoner and force my hand?”

Hatter was wondering the same thing.

Arch assumed a look of benevolence. “Do you know, Hatter, that I often worry about you? I fear you’re not making the most of your skills and intelligence. You’ve worked closely with two queens and so know the ins and outs of governing. You have the respect and loyalty of all who serve in Wonderland’s military. It’s a surprise to me that you haven’t become Wonderland’s ruler yourself.”

“I was born a Milliner.”

“Don’t be so old-fashioned. You were born to reinvent yourself as many times as you like. We all were. What was it Queen Genevieve used to say? ‘In imagination lies freedom’? It’s rare that I agree with any female, but in this case I’ll have to lend authority to Genevieve’s little maxim by seconding it. Why not be a Milliner and a ruler? You’re not being very imaginative, Hatter.”

“I’m not here to discuss my personal failures with you.”

“But wouldn’t you consider Homburg Molly among those failures?”

Hatter reached for his top hat as if he’d been physically attacked. He ran his fingers along its brim, Arch’s life saved by the hesitation. The king would have to wait for what he deserved until Hatter could be sure of Molly’s safety.

“Having been away from your official duties,” Arch said as the Milliner’s hand lowered to his side, “you might not have heard, but I’ve developed a weapon capable of destroying all of Boarderland, Wonderland, Morgavia, Unterlan, and who knows what else. I call it WILMA, which stands for Weapon of Inconceivable Loss and Massive Annihilation. It also happens to be the name of one of my former wives, who had to be put down on account of her feisty temper. I’m sure you can guess that I have no desire to obliterate myself or my nation. I do, however, know that for the betterment of all life and the inflation of my self-worth, my nation must expand to include yours and the others. But for this to happen, WILMA must be fully operational and the threat of my employing her genuine, otherwise your queen and the ‘rulers’ of Morgavia and Unterlan will have no reason to subjugate their governments to me. The interesting little wrinkle in all this, Hatter, is that in order for WILMA to operate at her full power, I need you. How and why I need you will be explained in the near future. But first, I’d like to invite you to join my tribe. I don’t ask everyone. You should be flattered.”

“Are these the terms for Molly’s release? I ‘join’ your tribe and you’ll let her go, unharmed?”

Arch, pacing throughout his talk of WILMA, had paused at the tent’s entrance. He now waved for someone outside to approach. “I think you’ll find that you have more reasons to join with me than merely securing Molly’s safety.”

With that, the king stepped outside. In his place stood an apparition, an illusion, a wish: Weaver. How long the ensuing silence lasted, Hatter didn’t know.

“I thought…” he murmured finally, unable to finish. I thought you were dead. “Did you get the diary I left for you?” she asked.

He nodded. “But I don’t under-”

“Oh, Hatter!”

She ran to him and he held close the much-loved body he thought he’d never hold again, breathing in the smell of her and waiting to be overwhelmed by the joy and relief of finding her so unexpectedly alive. But he had too many questions, the same, nagging, prickling questions he’d had since his reclusive days atop Talon’s Point.

Gently, he unclasped Weaver’s arms from around his neck. Tears were in her eyes. She guessed what he was thinking.

“I wasn’t as irresponsible as it seems,” she said. “The Alyssian camp in the Everlasting Forest…I knew Molly would be in excellent care. I just…I had to leave you word of our daughter, and I had to leave it somewhere safe where I knew you’d get it no matter what happened to me or Molly or the Alyssian cause.”

“But what are you doing here, with Arch?”

“That,” she said, smiling, “was a lucky accident. One of his guards, Ripkins, happened to see me enter

the tunnel leading up to our cave at Talon’s Point. He followed me and overheard me recording the diary. I thought he was one of Redd’s troops come to kill me. But without saying a word, he gave me one of his communicators. Arch was waiting to talk to me and said he knew about Redd, that she was hunting

down everyone connected to the Millinery and that, if I’d let him, Ripkins would bring me to Boarderland, where I’d be protected. I wasn’t going to go at first, but then I thought…I worried that if Redd found out who Molly was, she would kill us both, so I thought the best way to save our daughter was to stay away from her. Tell me I made the right decision. Tell me I did.”

She was crying afresh. Hatter reached up and cupped her face between his hands, wiped her tears with his thumbs.

“You made the right decision, Weaver.”

She put her head against his shoulder. “I’d assumed the worst after Redd destroyed the Alyssian headquarters. But Arch came to me as soon as Molly was abducted. He promised to do everything he could to get her back. We’re lucky the Ganmedes chose him as their intermediary.”

“You really believe Molly’s been kidnapped by Ganmedes?” “I’ve seen them. I’ve seen her.”

Hatter was taken aback. “Where? When?”

“In Boarderland. I don’t know exactly where we were camped, but…it was during the last eclipse of a Thurmite moon. She’s grown so much. She was confused more than anything else. About us. I didn’t get to spend much time with her.”

Hatter was no longer listening. Molly was in Boarderland, probably not far away. Arch would want to keep her close. Arch, who was probably monitoring his and Weaver’s every word. Unless the king knew something about Weaver that Hatter didn’t, and there was no need to bug the tent.

“Before I met with Arch,” the Milliner said, “I suspected there were no Ganmede kidnappers. Now that

I’ve met with him, I’m sure there aren’t any.”

“What are you talking about? I just told you I saw them.”

“They’re working for Arch.”

“That’s ludicrous! You think, after all he’s done for me, Arch took her? Why would he-”

“He’s using the two of you to get to me for some reason. Who else knew she was our daughter? You said his guard heard you record the diary.”

“He found me by accident, Hatter!” The folded arms, the head tilted slightly forward while she eyed him from beneath the overhang of her brow: She was getting mad. “I owe Arch my life,” she said. “He’s been nothing but kind and helpful.”

“When has King Arch ever been kind and helpful without an ulterior motive?”

“Being a Milliner makes you suspicious of everybody. You’re so smart when it comes to military things, why doesn’t it translate into being smart about others? I don’t want you to accuse Arch again. He’s my friend.”

He would get nowhere arguing with her. Either she’d been brainwashed or the stress of the past years, of giving up her daughter, had made her susceptible to a faith in the goodness of others, even in those who’d exhibited no special affinity for goodness.

“You truly believe we need Arch if we’re to get Molly back safe?” Hatter asked. “Yes.”

“And you trust him?”

“Almost as much as I trust you.” He kissed her. “Wait here.”

He hadn’t decided what he was going to do even as he stepped outside the tent, where Arch, Ripkins, and Blister were waiting. Kill or defer, kill or defer, he couldn’t make up his mind. But then he was standing in front of the king and his body seemed to decide for him. Just as he had done in the past, whenever showing reverence for Genevieve or Alyss Heart, he prostrated himself.

“If your invitation still stands, Your Majesty,” he said, “I would be honored to join your tribe.”