Alice backed away from the Oraculum, shaking her head.
“That’s not me,” she said. She refused to believe it. It was more impossible than any of the impossible things her father had ever believed before breakfast.
“I know!” the Dormouse agreed. She flapped her furry hands at the White Rabbit, as if to hurry him along.
The White Rabbit sighed. “Resolve this for us, Absolem,” he pleaded, twitching his ears at the blue Caterpillar. “Is she the right Alice?”
The Caterpillar peered over the top of his mushroom. He looked Alice in the eye and thought for a long, tense moment.
“Not hardly,” he said at last. Smoke billowed out of his hookah, obliterating him from view.
Pandemonium broke out among the creatures on the ground.
“I told you!” the Dormouse cried.
“Oh, dear!” squealed the White Rabbit, throwing up his paws. He looked horribly dismayed, and for a moment Alice felt quite bad for being so very much the “wrong” Alice.
“I said so!” said Tweedledum.
“I said so,” said Tweedledee.
“Contrariwise, you said she might be,” snapped his brother.
“No, you said she would be if she was,” shouted Tweedledee.
“Little imposter!” cried the Dodo. “Pretending to be Alice! She should be ashamed!”
All of them glared at Alice as if everything was somehow her fault.
“I’m sorry!” Alice protested. “I don’t mean to be the wrong Alice!” She really thought this was all rather unfair. “Wait, this is my dream,” she remembered. “I’m going to wake up now, and you’ll all disappear.” Wrong Alice, indeed!
She closed her eyes and firmly pinched herself, the way her father had shown her. After a moment, she opened her eyes again.
The creatures were all still there staring at her, with the pale mist-wreathed trunks of the mushroom forest behind them.
She pinched herself again, harder this time.
The animals just looked at her. Nobody had the good manners to disappear.
“That’s odd,” Alice muttered. “Pinching usually does the trick.” She frowned at the creatures in puzzlement.
The Dormouse pulled a long, sharp hatpin from the scabbard hanging on her breeches. “I could stick you if that would help,” she offered.
Alice considered the idea for a moment. “It might, actually,” she said. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” said the Dormouse, a little too gleefully. She scampered over and stabbed Alice in the ankle with relish.
“Argh!” Alice shrieked, grabbing for her foot. That hurt more than a pinch—and it still didn’t work. This was a horrible dream!
And it promptly got much worse. A thunderous roar echoed through the mushroom forest, shaking the soggy ground beneath them. Alice screamed as something came crashing through a high wall nearby. For a terrifying moment, she thought it was the Jabberwocky.
But then she realized that this new beast was furry, not scaly. It had the head of a rabid bulldog and was oozing drool from its squashed muzzle. Its fur was caked with blood and filth. Its teeth looked like shark’s teeth, broken and stained with blood. A foul stench wafted from its huge furry body.
It might not be the Jabberwocky, but it was equally bloodcurdling!
“Bandersnatch!” yowled Tweedledee.
“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” shrieked Tweedledum. “It’s so frumious!”
Everyone scattered, fleeing for their lives. Alice covered her head and ran back toward the garden. Her heart pounded madly in her chest. She did not want to be eaten, even in a dream.
All throughout the garden and the mushroom forest, animals were fleeing in terror. But many of them found themselves running into the arms of an equally dangerous foe. Tall Red Knights intercepted them, waving swords and shouting orders. The White Rabbit spotted the crest on their armor—a heart in flames—the Red Queen’s crest. The White Rabbit bolted through a hedge, hoping to escape.
Ahead of him, a pig and a flamingo were seized by rough, armor-clad arms and flung into a caged wagon. As the rabbit darted under a low branch, he saw the Dodo slip through the circle and escape.
Unfortunately, the White Rabbit was not so lucky.
A knight grabbed his leg and lifted him into the air. The White Rabbit flailed angrily, waving his paws. “Unhand me!” he shouted. “I do not enjoy being—”
The rest of his sentence was muffled as he was tossed into the caged wagon with the other animals.
Alice saw none of this; she was still racing down a garden path, feeling the hot, smelly breath of the Bandersnatch close on her heels. The ground shook as his meaty paws thundered behind her.
Suddenly, Alice skidded to a stop. “Wait,” she said. “It’s only a dream!” For a moment the fear had made her forget. She nearly laughed. “Nothing can hurt me,” she reminded herself. Crossing her arms, she turned to face the Bandersnatch.
Not far away, the Dormouse watched from behind a tree. She pressed her paws to her face in disbelief. “What is she doing?” she whispered.
The Bandersnatch loomed over Alice. Drool dripped from its muzzle onto her shoes as it opened its mouth wide to devour her.
“Can’t hurt me,” Alice said defiantly. This was an awfully realistic dream. But it had to be a dream. None of this could possibly be real. “Can’t hurt me,” she said again, a little less confidently this time.
“Run, you great lug!” the Dormouse screamed. With a groan of despair, the tiny mouse darted out from behind the tree and leaped onto the Bandersnatch. She pulled herself up, paw over paw, to its shoulder and drove her hatpin straight into its wild, rolling eye.
“RRROOOOOOOWWWWRRRRRR!” the Bander-snatch bellowed in pain. It thrashed and kicked furiously. The Dormouse struggled to pull out the hatpin . . . but the whole eye popped out!
The Bandersnatch’s howls increased in fury. It whipped around, lashed out, and raked Alice’s arm with its long claws.
“Ow!” Alice shrieked. She’d had enough of testing this dream. She turned and ran for her life.
Back in the mushroom forest, the Oraculum lay forgotten and unattended on the ground, where it had been dropped in the mad stampede to escape the Bandersnatch. A long, quiet moment passed, and then a grim-looking man stepped out of the mist and stared down at it. A flaming red birthmark covered half his face and hands, and he also wore the crest of the Red Queen. He picked up the Oraculum and studied the page it was open to.
An alarmed look flitted across his face. He glanced around surreptitiously, tucked the scroll into his saddlebag, and rode away.
The Tweedles suddenly appeared, running one on either side of Alice. They pointed at the path up ahead, where it diverged in two directions. A road sign indicated that one direction led to “QUEAST” and the other led to “SNUD,” which really told Alice nothing.
“This way!” Tweedledum shouted. “East to Queast!”
“No!” Tweedledee bellowed. “South to Snud!”
Each grabbed an arm and tried to pull her down his chosen path. Alice felt as if she were being ripped in two. She didn’t care which way she went— she just wanted to get away!
An ear-splitting screech rang out from above. The Tweedles froze in terror as an enormous bird landed in front of them. It had the terrifying death-dealing beak of an eagle and the long towering legs of an ostrich. Blood dripped from its mouth as it clattered its beak at them. Its glittering, beady eyes darted from Alice to one Tweedle and then to the other.
“JUB-JUB!” the bird screeched. It lunged forward and seized the Tweedles in its claws. Before Alice could react, the bird was in the air, flapping away.
The Tweedles were gone. The White Rabbit was gone. Everyone was gone.
Alice was quite alone.