I shouldn’t be surprised when I come downstairs a few hours later to find everything back to a creepy sense of normal. The entryway is immaculate even though when I had walked through on my way to the room, it had been covered in blood and most of the furniture destroyed. Dormouse had taken a few Cards with him. He hadn’t gone down without a fight. Now, as I pass through on my way to the ballroom, everything is in its proper place, not a single thing is left broken. There’s the mended vase, the designs curling smoke and grotesque dragons. It sits unbroken on top of a table, black and purple flowers arranged inside. The tiles that had been smashed or cracked are once again smooth, no evidence left that they had ever been damaged. The entry is silent. No one bangs at the door. No echoes reach my ears. The only sounds are that of my breath and the shuffle of my clothing.

There is no Dormouse.

When I step from the last stair, his presence is sorely missed, even if he never spared me more than, “He’s in the ballroom.”

I had debated about coming back down from my room at all. This tea party would be fuller than ever, and I doubt my heart can stand to look at those I failed. But I owe them this. If they could sacrifice their lives for the greater cause, then I could sit down at a table with them and meet their eyes. I can remind them there’s still hope for Wonderland.

I open the giant ballroom doors myself, the ominous creak they always make alerting everyone inside that I’m coming in. Hatter glances up at me, a warm smile on his face even though his eyes are sad. I can’t bring myself to return it yet, the emotions floating beneath the surface of my skin holding precedence. Everything hurts, my body, my soul, my heart. Faced with the people who took part in that suffering, who are the reason I hurt, I can’t bring myself to show happiness.

Hatter isn’t alone at the table, of course. Today, it’s almost completely full. The sheer amount of people filling the table shocks me. I didn’t realize that the Queen’s cards would be guests, assuming they are little more than faceless minions. As I look out at all the unfamiliar faces, I can’t believe that each one is a person who had been trapped much the same way as Prince Alexander. That means there’s even more people I failed to save.

Prince Alexander sits down at the end of the table, close to the Hatter. His mother sits on one side of him. Danica sits on the other. I had hoped Cheshire would sit next to Danica, a chance for them to visit, but Danica only seems to have eyes for the Prince, and Cheshire only has eyes for the tea cup in front of him. Both Cheshire and White sit on the other side of the table, across from them. Cheshire looks like he’s trying to set the table on fire with his intense gaze, his tail flicking from side to side behind him. Even his ears are laid flat on his head. Why isn’t anyone acknowledging the tension there? White looks tense, checking his watch as usual. He’s sitting at the end of the table, the very first chair where I typically sit.

The Tweedles sit in the midst of the Cards, sipping their tea delicately. They don’t eye the guests around them anymore. They seem content to just belong, full with whatever it is they needed to feed on. It’s an odd thing to watch them sit so regally when a few hours ago, I watched them tear through the Cards with their bare hands.

Dormouse sits right beside the Hatter, opposite White and beside Danica. There’s a small smile on his face as he watches me stand in the doorway, my brain a mess of emotions. As I take a step into the room, someone begins to clap. The sound builds until everyone is clapping, all besides Cheshire, White, and The Hatter. Hatter understands I don’t want to be celebrated for failing, for having to kill the man I was attempting to save. I know there had been no other choice and that we had tried our best. I will eventually make peace with that, but for now, I want nothing more than to forget the sound a blade makes as it slides past skin and bone.

I’m not sure why Cheshire and White don’t join in the clapping. Perhaps they realize what it took for me to be able to perform the duty, that I had to lose a piece of myself in the process. Perhaps they realize that Wonderland has started to feed on me, warp me, starting to change my soul the same way it has done theirs. Perhaps they understand exactly what I’m going through.

I make my way across the room, towards the empty seat that is left just for me. It’s no longer off to the side of the table, no longer in my usual spot. We now have chairs equally side by side at the head, where we’ll both preside over tea parties together from now on. It’s my way of giving back to those we lose, to help them have one last meal. It’s my way of supporting the Hatter and helping him to stay strong. I won’t stop helping those still living, but I’m also going to help the dead. I’m going to keep fighting for Wonderland’s freedom. I won’t stop fighting the Red Queen. Not until it’s my turn to cross into the Hereafter. And even then, I’ll have my Hatter beside me.

I take my seat in the golden ornate chair that matches the Hatter’s black one. It still has the skulls, the details, but it seems brighter somehow. The cushion is still the Hatter’s signature purple. I feel small as I sit on the velvet seat, like I’m a child playing dress up, like I have no idea what I’m actually doing. But this is my world now, and I will be the beacon that they need. It doesn’t stop me from feeling as lost as little Alice, or as mad as the Hatter. Perhaps that’s why I chose to wear the outfit I’m in. Perhaps, I needed to feel more like myself right now, to ground myself.

“I like what you’re wearing,” the Hatter leans over and whispers in my ear. The table resumes its chatter, giving us the tiniest bit of privacy.

“Really?” I take a sip of the tea in front of me. A chocolate rose flavor coats my tongue, and I savor the taste. It mimics the flavors of the Reali-Tea closely but without the added metallic taste. This one is the Hatter’s special Blend, the healing kind. Does he think he can heal my soul?

“I think you look radiant.”

I look at the Hatter, raising an eyebrow. I’m wearing skinny jeans and a t-shirt I blessedly found in the back of my wardrobe. The jeans are black, like most things are here, but the shirt is bright, eye-catching pink. I can’t find any shoes besides the combat boots and heels, so I chose the boots. Not quite myself but close enough. My hair is piled on top of my head, a few wet strands falling around my face and curling at the nape of my neck.

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” Hatter reiterates. “Beautiful enough to be my queen.”

I frown at him, my dislike for the word strong.

“I’m not a queen.”

“No,” he smiles. “You’re right. You’re my Clara Bee. My Hattress.”

There’s such joy on his face that I’m hopeless. I return the smile with a small one, taking his hand in mine.

Laughter fills the room as the table bustles with lively chatter. The clatter of plates and dishes adds to the fray when food appears on the table, turning almost overwhelming to my ears. I nibble at a meat pie in front of me. It’s warm and much better than the sweets I’ve been eating. I don’t ask what the meat is. Some things are just best left unknown.

I watch the table, my shoulders relaxing at the celebration of it. I keep finding my eyes drifting over to the Knave, to Prince Alexander. I fulfilled my part of the prophecy. I downed the Knave. He doesn’t look sad, or angry. In fact, he looks more peaceful than I’ve ever seen him, his face full of joy as his mother dotes on him, and Danica meets his eyes. It eases the pain just a tiny bit, knowing he’s happy, knowing he’s free if not alive.

Hatter raises his teacup into the air in front of him, and the room falls silent, their eyes riveted to us.

“To the first of the Triad.” His voice carries down the table, reaching everyone’s ears easily. “To my Clara Bee.”

I blush under the attention, but I don’t look away as everyone lifts their own teacups into the air. Even the Tweedles lift theirs.

“To Wonderland and Prince Alexander,” I add before we all take a sip together. The Prince meets my eyes, a small smile on his face. I nod to him, and he returns the gesture. It seems we are both at an understanding. We have both sacrificed something.

There’s this sense of belonging as we all place the teacups back on their saucers. There’s this feeling like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, like I’m home. I find myself smiling just a little bit wider at the thought. I’m home.

Later, after everyone has stuffed their faces with cakes and sweets and gorged themselves on tea, I venture the question that has been begging to be asked.

“So, what now?” I’m only the first of three. We’ve won a battle, but we haven’t won the war.

“We find the second of the triad,” Hatter answers, a happy gleam in his eyes. “Well, White does.” Hatter hasn’t been able to keep the love from sparkling in their depths all night. Cheshire has already called him out on it once, calling it disgusting that we keep making googly eyes at each other, but Hatter waves the words away. His hands stay touching me, whether it’s his hand on my knee or our fingers laced together. It’s like we’re both afraid of what’ll happen if we let go. My eyes flick to the bandage on his shoulder, the stiffness that he holds it with. A son of Wonderland can’t die, but he can feel pain. Healing isn’t instantaneous. He heals faster than I would, but it’s still slow.

I look over at White who is checking his watch for the thousandth time.

“That’s your mate up next.”

White looks up at me and nods, his lips curling up at the corners.

“If she’s able to accept Wonderland and all that. I imagine it’s a bit disorienting to fall down a Rabbit Portal.”

“It is indeed,” I agree, remembering my own fall. I was certain I had been kidnapped and drugged at first. My eyes trail over to Cheshire after taking a sip of my tea. “And then you’re the third.”

Cheshire scoffs, rolling his eyes at the words.

“No, thanks.”

“But it’s prophesy,” White exclaims, looking aghast.

“And it’s also bullshit. We got lucky the first time. Clara did exactly what the prophecy says she would. That doesn’t mean the next two will. And it doesn’t mean they won’t be useless twits.”

“Cheshire,” Danica scolds. “There’s no reason to tempt Fate with this dismissal. If you keep pushing, Fate will decide you need to be taught a lesson.”

“At least, it’ll be a better lesson than I’ve learned from you.”

Danica stiffens, her eyes widening just slightly. I take Hatter’s hand, waiting for the explosion.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, her voice shaky.

“You’re holding hands with your murderer who—surprise!—was also your lover.” Cheshire’s lips curl back in a snarl. “You’re dead because you couldn’t accept the Red Queen could take over your royal boy toy. I always thought you didn’t move that day for fear, that you were frozen with terror as the Knave bore down on you. I didn’t know it was because you loved him and thought that would be enough.”

“That’s enough,” Hatter interrupts. “I will not have this at my table.”

Danica’s eyes are glistening with unshed tears. She fights to hold them back, but one still trickles over the edge, trailing slowly down her cheek. Cheshire tracks its course, his face softening slightly. He looks down at the table, staring at his plate. Shame colors his face red.

“I’m sorry, Danica,” he mumbles. “I just, I miss you.” Everyone hears the words. Everyone feels the pain as Cheshire fades away, disappearing under the penetrating eyes of the table. His last words float through the air, reaching our ears. “I, alone, decide my fate.”

There’s crushing silence for a moment before someone speaks.

“I’m sorry,” Danica sniffs. “I didn’t mean for that to come up.”

I wave her apology away.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s none of our business. Besides, emotions are high right now.”

White glances at his watch again and stands up.

“You’re leaving already?” I ask, a small smile curling my lips.

“I’d best go find the second.” He turns to walk away but looks over his shoulder at me. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it, White. Just be you.” I wonder what woman is a match for the White Rabbit.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he smirks. Then he disappears from the room. I hear the front door close behind him.

“There’s a lot more to White than I realize, huh?” I look at Hatter who is already looking at me. Love shines from his eyes. He leans forward and kisses my lips softly, briefly, before leaning away.

“We sons of Wonderland are a handful. We’re all damaged in some way. White may not seem it, but he’s just as broken as both Cheshire and I.”

“You’re not broken, Hatter,” I whisper, kissing the back of his hand. “Not anymore.”

The tea party goes on long into the night, everyone too wrapped up in the feeling of hope to worry about the hour. Hatter finally has to stand and announce that it’s time to go. We all stand together. This occasion, I’m not accompanying Hatter into the Hereafter. He doesn’t want the stress of fading a third time to start to wear on me. Twice is already enough. So, I say my goodbyes to everyone at the gateway. The Queen gives me a tight hug, a hug I’m surprised I’m able to feel before she steps through the portal. Something about the enchantments of the room Hatter supplies. It allows everyone a last goodbye. Danica is next, embracing me like a friend. I keep looking for Cheshire, hoping he’ll show back up and tell his sister goodbye. I’m disappointed when he doesn’t.

“Take care of Cheshire for me,” she whispers, tears in her eyes. I chuckle, the sound watery at my own unshed tears.

“I’ll try my best, but I can’t promise he’ll let me.”

“He’s a big softie really.”

I don’t have the heart to tell her that Cheshire probably isn’t the same as he was last time she saw him. Wonderland is wearing on him, breaking him down. Losing his sister was probably difficult. Losing himself is probably agonizing. When she passes through the portal with a last smile at the Prince, the Cards begin filing in after her. They each wave to me as they pass, saying their thank yous. I don’t deserve a thank you, but I return their smiles with a nod of my head. Prince Alexander stands next to me, watching the progress. There are a lot of them.

“It’s not your fault,” he breaks the silence. “You did what you had to do.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier to live with.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “No, it doesn’t.” He smiles sadly at me. “Wonderland is dying, Clara. I may not be alive anymore, but the rest of Wonderland still is. Save it for me.”

He kisses me on the cheek before stepping towards the portal.

“Alexander,” I call. He stops and looks back at me, the portal colors illuminating him from behind, giving him a celestial appearance. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

He smiles again, this time the happiness pours from him.

“But you did, Clara. And you’ll save us all.”

Then he steps through the portal. The colors disappear, and I’m left alone in the Hatter’s ballroom.