Through the Looking Glass Read online

  But then the bedroom door opens. Little Iracebeth stands in the doorway. Her eyes travel up to grown-up Iracebeth’s giant head. She lets out a piercing shriek!

  FWOMP! Both Iracebeths freeze, turning into rust-covered statues. Rust begins to spread outward from where they stand.

  “Oh, this can’t be good,” the Hatter pronounces.

  “She has broken the past,” Time says weakly. “We’ve got to get to the Grand Clock before it stops forever.”

  Your crash landing totaled the Tempus Fugit, so you’ve got to get everyone into the Chronosphere. “Hurry, hurry!” you urge.

  Mirana drags her rust-frozen sister into the glowing bands while Hatter maneuvers the weakened Time into position. You take your place at the controls. In only a moment, you’re traveling across the Ocean of Time once more. Below you, rust spreads across the land, freezing everything it touches.

  Your experience at sea serves you well. You expertly pilot the Chronosphere across the Ocean of Time toward the present.

  “The rust!” Hatter cries. “It’s catching up!”

  You glance over your shoulder. The rust is like a wave coming after you.

  You bite your lip, concentrating. You’ve never traveled at such a speed—and with so much at stake.

  You reach the castle and zip through the doorway. The Chronosphere shoots through the vast hall as floors, ceilings, and walls rust and crumble around you.

  You zoom up the root staircase as an enormous wave rushes through the castle doors. It splits into two powerful, pounding waves, swallowing everything behind you.

  The Chronosphere ricochets off the rusting walls as you steer it along collapsing corridors. As the castle breaks apart, you see rust clouds falling from the sky. All of Underland is going to freeze into a rust-covered wasteland if you don’t get the Chronosphere back where it belongs! You force yourself to ignore the shattering, rusting world around you.

  “I’ve really enjoyed our time together, Alice,” the Hatter says somberly.

  You stay laser-focused on your destination. You’ll use Iracebeth’s grandfather clock to get to Time’s castle, just as she did for their date.

  You expertly maneuver the Chronosphere into the giant grandfather clock at breakneck speed, the waves roaring behind you. You emerge in the Chamber of the Grand Clock in Time’s castle, where the Chronosphere crashes to the floor. You, Hatter, Mirana, the rust-frozen Iracebeth, and Time tumble out. The Chronosphere collapses back to its small size.

  You grab it. The Grand Clock of All Time is barely ticking. It’s running out of time, and so are you.

  The rust is even worse here. You have to dodge through the deluge. Rusted Seconds, Minutes, and an Hour lie scattered across the floor, motionless.

  “Time has collapsed!” Hatter calls out behind you.

  You gape at the Grand Clock. It ticks one last tock and then stops.

  The way you see it, you have two options—neither promising….

  RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN AND GO HERE.

  OR THROW THE CHRONOSPHERE AS HARD AS POSSIBLE AND GO HERE.

  WARNING! You’re about to spoil a great story by not making a choice! Page back, then click one of the links to advance the story. Otherwise, the next section may not make any sense to you.

  YOU’LL NEVER make it in time. Rust creeps closer and closer, moving faster and faster. You fling the Chronosphere with all your might, hoping you aimed well.

  Your aim was fine—but you didn’t know your own strength. The Chronosphere crashes through the clock and smashes into the wall behind it! It breaks into thousands of pieces, splintering time itself!

  Every single moment of the past and present for everyone in the room appears. You as an infant, crawling around and getting into everything, because you are quite curious about things, even at this young age. You as a precocious little girl. You as a great-great-grandma, spry as ever.

  It’s so noisy! And crowded! You try to find your way out but it’s a labyrinth of multiple Alices going on forever!

  This time there is no

  END.

  THERE ARE TOO MANY ALICES! GOOD THING YOU CAN GO BACK TO THE BEGINNING AND BE SOMEONE ELSE.

  WARNING! You’re about to spoil a great story by not making a choice! Page back, then click one of the links to advance the story. Otherwise, the next section may not make any sense to you.

  YOU RUN as fast as you can. The rust is nearly upon you, creeping up your heels, your feet, your waist. You slam the Chronosphere back where it belongs as the rust spreads across your hand.

  You’re frozen in a terrible silence. Everything in the room, the castle, the world—all trapped in rust. Were you too late?

  Then—the smallest of ticks. Ticktock. TICKTOCK.

  Deep within the rusted clock, the Chronosphere glows and starts to hum. There’s a crackling sound as the machinery seems to shrug off the rust and start up again.

  Slowly, the rust begins to recede.

  You watch as the skies clear and color returns to the world outside the windows.

  Mirana, the Hatter, Iracebeth—unfrozen, though dazed—gaze all around as the rust dissolves.

  You hurry over to Time. “Are you all right?”

  Time looks at you with grateful eyes and nods.

  There’s a commotion in the hallway, then McTwisp, Mally, the Tweedles, and the Hightopps pour into the room.

  Happy tears spring to your eyes as you enjoy the reunions taking place. The Hatter and his family. Mirana and Iracebeth getting along, perhaps for the first time since they were little girls.

  “I owe you an apology,” you tell Time. “You tried to warn me about the Chronosphere, but I didn’t listen.”

  “No worries, my dear,” Time says kindly. “I heal all wounds.”

  “You know, I used to think you were a thief, stealing everything I loved,” you admit. “But you give before you take. And every day is a gift. Every hour, every minute, every second…”

  You reach into your pocket and retrieve your father’s broken pocket watch, then gaze down at it.

  “Ah, the fallen soldier,” Time says. “I suppose you want me to fix it.”

  You study the watch.

  IF YOU WANT TIME TO FIX IT, GO HERE.

  IF YOU WANT TO GIVE IT TO TIME AS A GIFT, GO HERE.

  WARNING! You’re about to spoil a great story by not making a choice! Page back, then click one of the links to advance the story. Otherwise, the next section may not make any sense to you.

  YOU GIVE Time the watch to repair. When he hands it back to you, there’s a blinding flash of light.

  You blink a few times and shade your eyes with your hands. “Where is he?” you say, searching the riverbank for your friend.

  Your sister sits in the bow of the boat. “Do be patient, Alice,” she says. “You’re acting like a complete baby and you are already a big girl of seven! Just enjoy the lovely sunny day.”

  You settle in your seat in the rowboat. “Well, when father’s friend does finally arrive,” you say, “he’s going to have to tell us an especially good story.”

  Your sister dips her hand in the water and splashes you. “Professor Charles Dodgson always tells a good story.”

  You splash her back. “True. But I think this time it’s going to have to be all about me!” you declare. “About all the adventures I will have. Adventures that will never come to

  an

  END.”

  BUT WHAT FUN IS IT TO HEAR A STORY WHEN YOU CAN LIVE IT? HEAD BACK TO THE BEGINNING AND CHOOSE A NEW TALE TO BE A PART OF.

  WARNING! You’re about to spoil a great story by not making a choice! Page back, then click one of the links to advance the story. Otherwise, the next section may not make any sense to you.

  “NO,” YOU say, holding the watch out to him. “I want you to have it.”

  Time looks surprised. “You said it was your father’s.”

  “It was my father’s,” you say, gazing down at it. Then you look up at Time and smile. “But it’s
not my father.”

  You look around at all the happy families. “I’ve been holding on too tightly to all the wrong things.”

  Time gives you a little bow, then tucks the watch into his pocket. “My dear girl. They say I am a friend to no man. But I shall remember you. Always.”

  The Hatter approaches you and excitedly grabs your hand. “We did it, didn’t we?”

  “We did indeed.” You fling your arms around him in a tight hug. “And I think it’s time for me to go home.”

  He pats your back. “Don’t worry, Alice. In the palace of dreams we shall meet, and laugh, and play all our lives.”

  “But a dream is not reality,” you say, your voice breaking a little.

  He takes your hands and brings his face close to yours, his eyes shining madly. “Ah, but who’s to say which is which?”

  You smile through your tears and nod.

  You arrive in Hamish’s mansion. A meeting is taking place in the library. You stand outside the doorway, listening to Hamish pressuring your mother to sign the papers that will give him control of the Wonder.

  “Let’s get this over with,” you hear Hamish say. “Time is money.”

  That’s a cue if you ever heard one. You step into the library. “He most certainly is not!” you declare.

  They all turn and stare at you. Hamish, Lady Ascot, Mr. Harcourt, and your mother.

  You stroll around the table until you reach your mother’s chair. “Sign the papers, Mother.” You pick the pen up from the desk and hand it to her.

  She doesn’t move to take it. “But what about your dreams?” she asks.

  You sit beside her. “I used to think the Wonder meant everything, but it’s just a ship. There is always another ship. But you and your well-being mean everything to me. You’re my mother and I only get one.”

  Her eyes grow shiny with tears. You both stand and stroll out of the library, arm in arm, ignoring the sputtering Hamish behind you.

  A few months later you watch a pair of workmen installing a sign above your office door: KINGSLEIGH AND KINGSLEIGH TRADING COMPANY. You smile with satisfaction.

  Beside you, Mr. Harcourt, Hamish’s former clerk, studies papers on a clipboard. “A full cargo aboard,” he tells you. He holds the clipboard against his chest and grins. “Do we commence with Kingsleigh and Kingsleigh’s maiden voyage?”

  “Best check with the commodore,” you tell him.

  You cross the wharf of the bustling Hong Kong harbor and stroll to a graceful ship, loaded and ready to push off.

  Your mother greets you with a quick hug.

  “Ready to head out of harbor, Commodore?” you ask her.

  She nods with a broad smile. “Full sail, lads!” she calls out. “Full sail!”

  You gaze at the harbor teeming with boats. You grip the rigging and relish the feel of the wind in your hair, the waves beneath your feet. You’re ready for your new adventure!

  This is not

  THE END—

  it’s just the beginning!

  YOU’VE FOUND A NEW LIFE FULL OF SEAFARING EXCITEMENT, BUT THERE ARE STILL ADVENTURES TO BE HAD IN UNDERLAND IF YOU GO BACK TO THE BEGINNING.

  WARNING! You’re about to spoil a great story by not making a choice! Page back, then click one of the links to advance the story. Otherwise, the next section may not make any sense to you.

  YOU PLOP the third hat on top of your head. It’s the one you got for your eighth birthday three weeks ago. You proudly walk out of the house, balancing the hats very well, if you do say so yourself.

  Chessur, the little Cheshire Kitten; puppy Bayard; and your friends the twins Tweedledum and Tweedledee run by. You chase after them, gleefully stomping in puddles. You scoop up some muddy water with your school satchel and splash the twins. Your tower of hats tumbles off your head as you leap from puddle to puddle.

  You hear your father calling your name. Uh-oh. He doesn’t sound happy. You turn to see him glaring at you from the doorway.

  Your eyes flick from his scowling face to your smiling friends.

  Decisions, decisions.

  When you turn to glance back at your father, you spot a young lady watching you.

  SHOULD YOU KEEP PLAYING WITH YOUR FRIENDS? GO HERE.

  OR SHOULD YOU BRING THE YOUNG LADY INTO YOUR FATHER’S HAT SHOP? GO HERE.

  WARNING! You’re about to spoil a great story by not making a choice! Page back, then click one of the links to advance the story. Otherwise, the next section may not make any sense to you.

  YOUR FATHER is already mad at you, so you might as well have fun! And who knows? Maybe he’ll be in a good mood by the time you return home.

  You run off with Bayard and the Tweedles. The Cheshire Kitten seems to have vanished. You’re not worried, though. That’s just the kind of kitty he is—the disappearing kind!

  Bayard picks up a stick and tosses it. You bound after it on all fours. You snatch it up in your mouth and gleefully waggle it. The Tweedles jump up and down, clapping with delight. Suddenly, Bayard’s nose sticks straight up in the air and twitches. “Gotta go!” he says, tail wagging. “Sniffed out a delicious scent.”

  He lopes away, leaving you with Tweedledum and Tweedledee. They’re taking turns bonking each other on the head and giggling madly.

  You decide to leave them to their game to go find Chessur. Maybe he can teach you how to disappear. That trick would come in handy. Especially on days like today, when your father is a big ol’ grump.

  But finding Chessur isn’t easy! You think you catch sight of him when you see four paws scampering down an alley. You run after them.

  Now you see a tail and a little kitty butt. Suddenly, the butt falls backward, landing right on its tail. You rush over as Chessur’s body gradually comes into view.

  “Are you okay?” you ask.

  “I don’t know what happened,” he mews plaintively.

  “You need to remember to at least make your eyes appear if you’re going to go running around,” you tell him. You stroke his soft aqua-and-gray-striped fur.

  A loud sound startles you, making your head whip around. “Just a Jubjub bird,” you say, turning to look at Chess. But his face has disappeared. “Why, Chess, I believe you’ve lost your head!”

  His face reappears but now his body vanishes. “Found it,” he purrs.

  Maybe you’d better not take disappearing lessons from him. At least not until he has it under control. You’d hate to get stuck with invisible limbs.

  You spend the rest of the afternoon playing all kinds of games with Chess and having a lovely time in

  THE END.

  Go here to continue.

  WARNING! You’re about to spoil a great story by not making a choice! Page back, then click one of the links to advance the story. Otherwise, the next section may not make any sense to you.

  BRINGING IN a customer might please your father. Then maybe he’ll be less likely to scold you. The pretty lady is smiling at you, so you march over to her and grab her hand. She looks surprised but goes with you into the shop.

  “We’re closed,” your father says gruffly. You glance up at the lady, hoping she isn’t frightened by your father’s tone. He is such a serious sourpuss sometimes.

  “Papa! Look!” you say, holding up the lady’s hand in yours. “A customer with a lovely head. Right here!”

  “I’m sorry, miss.” Your father stands and puts on his coat. He means business. That’s nothing new. He always means business. “You’ll have to come another time.”

  Maybe the lady won’t be getting a new hat now, but you have one to show your father. You follow him to the door and tug on his coat.

  “Papa, look! I made something for you in school!” You open your puddle-spattered satchel and proudly hold up a little blue hat made from construction paper.

  Go here to continue.

  WARNING! You’re about to spoil a great story by not making a choice! Page back, then click one of the links to advance the story. Otherwise, the next section may no
t make any sense to you.

  BUT AFTER AN AFTERNOON OF PLAYING, CHESS TAKES AN INVISIBLE CATNAP AND YOU CAN’T FIND ANY OF HIM ANYWHERE. GO BACK TO THE BEGINNING AND SEE IF YOU CAN FIND MORE OF YOUR FRIENDS.

  WARNING! You’re about to spoil a great story by not making a choice! Page back, then click one of the links to advance the story. Otherwise, the next section may not make any sense to you.

  Your father peers down. “What is it?”

  Is he losing his eyesight? “A hat!” you say.

  He takes it from you. “This? Let me have a look….” He starts to take the construction paper hat apart.

  “But—” you protest.

  “If my son is going to make a hat, he will make a proper one,” your father says. “Do something, do it right—that’s my philosophy.” He fiddles with the hat, his big fingers tearing it.

  You gasp. He’s ruining it!

  “Hmmm. Well, cheap material,” your father says. “There’s your lesson. Tell you what…tomorrow I’ll help you make a real hat, Son. Not one of these pretend ones, eh?”

  You watch, stunned, as your father crinkles up the hat and tosses it into the trash. Then he walks out of the shop.

  You gape after him, tears springing to your eyes. He makes you so mad! You furiously swipe at the tears. You don’t want to be here anymore. That’ll show him!

  Where should you go? Or maybe a better question is, when should you go?