Kitabı oku: «Alice in Zombieland / Алиса в Стране зомби», sayfa 8
The Hare let out a nervous giggle, tearing into a scone. “A quarrel! A tiff! A terrible misunderstanding!”
“Misunderstanding?” The Hatter snorted. “Oh no. You see, in all honesty, he was always too early. Always arriving before I was ready. Rushing things. It wasn't stalling, not on my end – some stories just aren't meant to end so soon.” His fingers tapped rhythmically against the side of his teacup. “So I told Time he wasn't welcome anymore. He didn't like that. Took it personally. And since then, it's always almost five o'clock. Tea time forever – and never quite.” He spread his hands with theatrical flair. “A most convenient inconvenience, wouldn't you say?”
Alice blinked, her brow furrowing. “That's rather ridiculous, if you ask me.”
As she adjusted her seat, the Hare leaned toward her, crumbs clinging to his whiskers. “Ridiculous? No, no! It's orderly chaos!” He chuckled and reached for another scone. “Speaking of chaos, did I ever tell you about the Dormouse?”
Alice frowned, glancing at the slumped figure. “What about him?”
The Hare's ears twitched, and his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Oh, he wasn't always like this, you know. Used to be quite sprightly. But then, one day, he nibbled something he shouldn't have. A crumb from a cake, or perhaps a berry from the wrong bush. Changed him completely.”
“Changed him how?” Alice asked, her curiosity piqued despite herself.
The Hare waved a paw dramatically. “Turned him quiet, didn't it? Took the spring out of his step and the shine out of his eyes. You might say he… slowed down.” He giggled, the sound unnerving. “Some say it wasn't the cake or the berry at all. Some say he lingered too long, and Wonderland loved him too much to let him go. And Wonderland… well, Wonderland has a way of holding onto those it cherishes.”
Alice shivered. “That's horrible.”
“Horrible?” The Hare shrugged, popping a scone into his mouth. “That's Wonderland. Horrible and delightful, all in one.”
Alice shifted uncomfortably, the weight of their cryptic answers pressing on her. “What am I to do now? And why does no one ever bother with proper answers? It's all so very tiresome!”
The Hatter's grin flickered, his expression softening for a moment. “Ah, Alice, you're asking the wrong questions again. It's not about what you do now – it's about what you're meant to do.”
“And what's that?” Alice snapped, her frustration bubbling over.
The Hatter leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Perhaps this. Perhaps nothing. Wonderland decides that, not you.”
Alice glared at him, but before she could retort, he straightened abruptly, his grin sharp once more. “But don't fret too much about that, dear girl. It's tea time! Time enough to worry later.”
The Hare giggled, brushing crumbs from his whiskers. “Always tea time! Always questions! You'll figure it out, or you won't. Either way, you'll stay!”
Alice opened her mouth, her face pale with fear and shock, but before she could speak, the meadow was filled with the sound of rhythmic, marching footsteps. Her head snapped toward the noise, her heart pounding. Emerging from the bushes were figures clad in black and red armor, their faces hidden behind polished helmets. Their weapons gleamed ominously in the too-bright light.
“The Queen's soldiers!” the Hatter exclaimed, his voice a mix of surprise and amusement. “My, my, they do get around.”
Alice jumped to her feet, her voice rising in panic. “What do they want?”
The Hatter tipped his hat, his grin wavering. “You, dear Alice. I wouldn't keep the Queen waiting – she has a rather sharp fondness for trimming things that displease her – heads included.” Seeing the growing unease in Alice's face, he added more gently, “It'll be alright. Just remember where your feet are meant to go – and try not to look too surprised when they take you there.”
FOUR
The Queen
Alice stood at the edge of a receiving room near the Queen's court, her wide eyes darting around the grand yet decaying room, a dimly lit space with walls covered in peeling tapestries of forgotten battles and faded glory. The furniture was sparse and austere, the servants in pristine waistcoats scurried about, their glassy eyes avoiding her gaze, while guards with patchwork armor and eerie, rigid movements flanked the room like lifeless sentinels. The oppressive air of the court seeped into her skin, but what truly unsettled her was the uncanny way everything seemed alive and dead all at once.
She glanced down at her own dress, now smudged and slightly torn from her journey. It had been beautiful once, black with crisp white puffy sleeves, but now it bore the scars of Wonderland's unforgiving paths. She brushed at a stubborn patch of dust on the skirt, her fingers trembling as she muttered under her breath, “Blast it all.” The unladylike thought gave her a moment's grim satisfaction, though she quickly straightened up, reminding herself of the eyes upon her.
The memory of her arrival here replayed in her mind. The journey to the Queen's castle had been long and tiresome. The skittish little hare, limping and muttering, had led her through a maze of paths just outside the castle walls – twisting, uneven things lined with damp stone and overgrown ivy. The castle gates had creaked open on old hinges, revealing not horror, but age: an old, worn structure, too large and drafty to feel welcoming. The corridors echoed faintly with every step, and there was a faint smell of mold in the air. Still, the roses lining the pathway had been lovely – bright, well-kept, and blooming with impossible vibrancy. They stood out like laughter in a library, unexpected and strangely reassuring.
Every step inside had echoed in the vast, hollow halls, the sound swallowed by the oppressive silence that hung in the air. The trembling little coward of a rabbit had said little, his glassy eyes flickering nervously as they entered the very chamber where Alice now stood.
