Present: On the Road, London
F abiola and the Cheshire were on the Pillar’s trail. The sneaky man with a hookah disappeared beyond the grey fog and they were left lost again.
“What now?” the Cheshire asked.
Fabiola panted, “I will find him. Just let me think.”
“You look like you’re dead already,” he snickered behind the mask.
“I should be if it weren’t for the ...” Fabiola caught her tongue in the last second. She wasn’t going to share crucial information with the Cheshire. “Let’s just make it clear that you and I will never be friends.”
“Ain’t looking for friendship, White Queen,” he said. “All I wanna do is purr chaos:”
“You do not sound British when you talk like that.”
“Well it's a mad world isn’t it,” he said. “Also I am sorry for not warning you before the Duchess made you hurt yourself,” he teased her. “Poor White Queen.”
Fabiola hadn’t the slightest interest in playing games with the Cheshire. Sometimes the best thing with cats is to ignore them.
“Look,” the Cheshire said, pointing at something on the asphalt.
“What did you find? A bowl of expired milk?”
“Not funny.”
“Well, the cucumber was dead funny.”
Now, the Cheshire ignored her and knelt down to pick up something from the floor. Fabiola saw him stand up and wave the item at her. A hose. From the Pilar’s hookah.
“He left it behind,” the Cheshire said. “Hallelujah.”
Fabiola skeptically eyed the hookah then looked at the footsteps marked on the asphalt by the ashen powder from the fire.
“He must have entered this building,” she said.
“Then we go, White Queen, and kill the old butterfly.”
“He is not a butterfly yet,” Fabiola explained, though the Cheshire was just being sarcastic. “We have to kill him before he transforms.”
“What the smokey smokes are you talking about, woman?”
“No one knows the Pillar like I do. If we don’t kill him before he transforms, he will turn into a gigantic beast.”
“What?” the Cheshire scratched his head. “Are you telling me he calculated everything? Even his death?”
“I think so, or why do you think his skin is peeling off? From Pillar to Butterfly.”
“But that’s not what your sister told me.”
“When did you last speak to her?”
“Doesn’t matter,” he wasn’t going to tell her he dug her sister up from the grave. The White Queen was too sentimental. She still wouldn’t have liked it.
“Ah, I guess she is the one who told you that you can kill the Pillar with his own hose?”
“Yeah,” he itches his mask out of nervousness. “Anyway, she said that anyone who kills him will be cursed.“
“Oh please,” Fabiola snatches the hose from the Cheshire’s paws. “All those rumors. I know how he thinks. Let’s not waste time. Go inside and kill him.”
“You know that’s an amusement park behind those doors?” he pointed at where the footsteps led them.
“Makes sense. Where else would he hide?”
“I always wanted to eat ice cream on a roller coaster.”
“Shut up and follow me.”
“I usually shut up and purr, but whatever you say, White Queen.”
“And one last thing,” she turned to face him, “after we kill the Pillar, I am going to kill you. I don’t like you.”
“I don’t blame you, woman. Sometimes I don’t like me.”