to dressing in the uniform of its former leader, Hatter Madigan: the long coat that flared out behind her like a cape when she ran; the deadly belt that, with a punch of its buckle, sprouted a series of sabers along its surface; the bracelets that could snap open and become propeller blades on the outward side of her wrists; the backpack.

“I haven’t seen this much optimism since I was a young albino graduating from the Tutor Corps,” Bibwit sighed as they left the ancestral chamber and continued down the passage. “But it’s best to tell you now, Alyss, that Queen Issa’s reign was not as peaceful as Wonderlanders believe. There will always be those who unfavorably compare the present with a past they suppose happier than it was, not having lived through it, as I have.”

“I can’t imagine you as young, Bibwit,” Alyss said.

He was being quite the chatterbox today. She would have thought her tutor had attended too many royal festivities to get excited by them any longer. But didn’t she know better? It wasn’t the gala itself that had raised his spirits so much as it was her first official function as Wonderland’s queen.

“This is one of the libraries,” Bibwit said, showing them into a paneled room crowded with books, scrolls, reading crystals.

Only three lunar cycles had passed since Redd’s defeat and yet the pressures of Alyss’ position were wearing on her. She didn’t want to let anyone down, least of all Bibwit. He was the closest thing she had to a father since her aunt Redd had murdered her parents.

“Don’t you agree, Alyss?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts. “About what?”

“I was just telling young Molly-” “I’m not young,” Molly blurted.

The tutor paused. In the short time since Redd’s defeat, the girl had grown at least a gwormmy-length and the cute slope of her nose had straightened somewhat, as if in anticipation of the handsome woman she would soon be. But her unlined face, her pillowy cheeks, and her strong, clear eyes turned defiantly upon him-she was nothing if not a child.

“No,” Bibwit said. “After what we’ve been through, I don’t suppose any of us could be called young, although as Alyss has kindly pointed out, it’s unlikely anyone would have dared to think me so. My apologies, Molly. But I was saying that although the principles of White Imagination do not concern themselves with the luxuries so plentiful in the new palace, its opulence might be said to represent a time when beauty could exist in Wonderland unmolested by greed or other ill-intent.”

Hard to believe this is where I’m to live.

The crystal-shimmering spires and agate-mosaic artworks, floors inlaid with jasper and pearl, walls of quartz and stone and glittering mortar: It was all so unfamiliar and much grander than the former palace.

“Alyss might not care overly much for such things,” Bibwit was saying as they again continued down the passage, “but on occasion a queen must follow instead of lead. The wisdom comes in knowing when to do so and, in this instance, Alyss has wisely chosen to follow the will of the people.” Bibwit’s ears twitched. “We have company.”

Alyss soon heard footsteps approaching. General Doppelganger appeared at the end of the hall, his

military boots clicking on the polished floor. He bowed repeatedly and began talking before he reached her.

“My queen, three decks of card soldiers have been dispatched to guard the perimeter of the grounds. The white knight and his chessmen will be stationed inside the palace and its gardens. They have promised to be as inconspicuous as they can, so as not to worry your guests, but-”

Alyss laughed. “They are chessmen, General; they will always be a trifle conspicuous.”

“That’s so, that’s so.” The general ran a fretful hand through his hair and split into the twin figures of

Doppel and Ganger.

“We urge you to reconsider,” said General Doppel.

“It’s a risk to have invited so many to the palace all at once,” agreed General Ganger. “We don’t wish to cause needless alarm-”

“-but we’ll be vulnerable to disruptions from any enemies we still have among the populace.” “To say nothing of the risk to you personally.”

“Queen Alyss can take care of herself,” said Homburg Molly. “And besides, she has me.”

In one swift motion, Molly took the homburg from her head, snapped it into a flat, knife-edged disk, and sent it zinging down the hall and back. She caught it, with a flick of the wrist returned it to its innocent homburg shape, and plunked it on top of her head.

Always wanting to prove her worth even though she’s proved it tenfold in battles.

Homburg Molly was still too inexperienced to have mastered the Millinery ethic of keeping her emotions hidden, an ethic Hatter Madigan had epitomized to perfection.

“Your diligence and concern are appreciated, as always,” Alyss told the generals, “but the memorial is for all of Wonderland. And to bring out the best in Wonderlanders, I must assume the best of them.”

“You’re starting to sound like Bibwit!” Doppel and Ganger moaned at once, and turned to leave.

“I’ll walk with you, Generals,” the tutor said. “I must powder my head and poof out my scholarly robes for the party and so will take my leave of the queen.”

Once Bibwit and the generals had gone, Molly said, “I don’t get it. He’s an albino. Why does he put white powder on his head?”

Alyss smiled. “When we’re as clever and educated as Bibwit, I’m sure we’ll know the answer, Molly. But I think it’s time we joined the guests.”

The royal garden, a courtyard at the center of palace grounds, was crowded with happy Wonderlanders, their ticklish eruptions of laughter competing with the singing of the sunflowers planted alongside the war memorial.

Alyss had made only one request of the palace architects: that at the grave site of Sir Justice Anders, former head of the palace guard and Dodge Anders’ father, they create a memorial honoring all who had

lost their lives during Redd’s thirteen-year reign-royals, civilians, card soldiers, chessmen, palace guardsmen, and members of the Millinery. The bodies of Queen Genevieve and King Nolan hadn’t been recovered, of course, but Bibwit had surprised Alyss with two of their most intimate keepsakes: a toy spirit-dane invented by her father, and one of her mother’s charm bracelets, both of which he’d kept tucked deep within his robes throughout Redd’s tyranny. These had been enough for the Hereafter Seeds to do their work. Just as a bouquet forming the likeness of Sir Justice watched over his grave, bouquets

of camellias, gardenias and lilies resembling Wonderland’s former king and queen now kept vigil over theirs. On either side of the graves rose a simple stone etched with the names of those known to have lost their lives in battles against Redd. Behind all: an obelisk of emerald green, in recognition of those who had gone missing during Redd’s occupation and were now, to their families’ grief, presumed dead.