I t’s hard to imagine the world’s reaction to what just happened, not to mention those watching this on TV, probably among their children at home. As for us here in Marostica, we’re in a dreadful state of fear, since it seems like the Chessmaster has eyes in the sky. He seems so invincible.
“I haven’t heard the right answer yet,” he announces on the screen. “Until I do, more heads are going to roll.”
The man with the sword has approached the next woman on the board, the one wearing the uniform of a knight. She was already shivering as he came closer.
“You’re a liar!” I tell the Chessmaster. “I know my last answer was right.”
“No, it wasn’t,” the Pillar says, looking disappointed he didn’t figure it out sooner. “Lewis Carroll had many choices for the title of what became Alice in Wonderland . He listed them on a single page in his diary, which can still be found in the archived papers in the Surrey History Centre in London.”
“What?” I am totally mad at the Pillar. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”
“Because it’s such trivial information that no one ever mentions it anymore.”
The Chessmaster applauds the Pillar by clapping both sides of his mustache. “That partially answers my question. Now let’s make it harder. There are four titles on that page.” The Chessmaster neglects my comments. “Only one of them counts because Lewis actually sent it to the printing house before he changed his mind.”
I turn back and face the Pillar. The woman’s life is in his hands now, and I am sure I don’t have enough time to Google it if this is even the kind of info I can find on Google.
“That’s easy.” The Pillar shrugs, glancing at the poor woman. I think he isn’t sure of the answer but spits it out anyways. “Alice’s Hour in Elfland was the original title.”
“In Elfland?” I say.
“Right answer,” the Chessmaster says. “Weird, but right.”
“I’m assuming you won’t let the woman go anyways.” The Pillar steps forward, flashing his cane. I’m terrified at the thought.
“Well, you assumed right,” the Chessmaster says. “May I ask why you assumed so?”
“Because you’re a lunatic, that’s part of it,” the Pillar says. “And because you’re not here to spill blood and institute chaos. You have a bigger plan in mind.”
The Chessmaster smirks, brushing his mustache. “Next question.”
“Let the woman go first,” I demand.
“Don’t bother, Alice,” the Pillar says. “He won’t stop until he gets what he wants, though I am not sure what that is.”
People suppress their shrieks all around us. They stand frozen in their places, some of them eying the snipers in the high castle, some of them watching the man with the sword on the chessboard.
“Next question is,” the Chessmaster says, “name three masterpieces written in the same era Alice in Wonderland came out.”
“David Copperfield by Charles Dickens.” The Pillar shoots his words faster than the speed of nonsense. “The Water-Babies by Charles Kingsley, and Great Expectations , also by Charles Dickens.”
“That’s impressive.” The Chessmaster claps again. “Why so fast?”
“Because it’s common knowledge that in spite of the three masterpieces being the world’s most awaited novels in that era, it was Alice in Wonderland that topped the bestseller list,” the Pillar says in one breath. “Now let the woman go.”
The Chessmaster ignores the comment and shoots another question. “What was so special about Alice’s character in the book?”
“That’s a vague question,” the Pillar says.
“Let me rephrase: What was a first about Alice’s character in Lewis Carroll’s book?” the Chessmaster says. “Something that hadn’t been done earlier in literature.”
The Pillar grimaces, searching for answers, but it’s me who surprisingly knows. I don’t know how. It could be part of my lost memories coming back, or something that has been buried in me for years that I had just forgotten about.
“She was…” I begin, realizing that what I am about to say puts so much weight on my shoulders if I am the Alice in the book. So much weight that I feel I am not really doing enough to save the world or stand up to the model Lewis made out of me.
“She was what?” The Chessmaster nears the screen, eyes glinting.
“She was the first female lead in children’s literature, ever,” I say. “Before her, children’s books had only male heroes.”