CHAPTER SEVEN: LIGHT-FINGERED ALICE

The girl was dressed in jeans, black boots, and a black jacket. She yanked off a black knit cap that was pulled down tightly over her head to reveal a mass of shiny blond hair. Albert liked looking at her. She shook her head, more disgusted than angry or even upset.

Old Vorpal grabbed her by one arm, pulled the chair upright, and pushed her down into it. “So nu, schmoe: say something smart,” he ordered.

“Who put that chair there?” she asked, causing Old Vorpal to just gape at her.

“What do you want here?” Mr. Katz asked.

“I’m looking for the Vorpal sword,” she said. “Is this it?” She put out one hand to touch the sword lying on the table, but Old Vorpal shook his finger at her, and she withdrew her hand.

“You are killing jabberwocks, maybe?” Mr. Katz asked.

“Maybe,” the intruder said coyly.

“How did you get in here?” Old Vorpal asked.

“I came in through the bathroom window,” she admitted.

“What’s your name?” Albert asked. He would not admit it to anyone else, but she fascinated him.

“In Oxford and environs they call me Light-fingered Alice.”

“Hah,” Old Vorpal exclaimed.

“Could be her,” Mr. Katz remarked. “If she can get past the tove, she must be pretty good.”

“Are you the Alice?” Albert asked excitedly. It was a logical question considering all he’d been through lately.

She looked confused by the question. “I’m the only one I know,” she said. “Though,” she admitted, “there may be others.

She didn’t have to be the famous Alice of the books, Albert thought. Though he could not get over the idea that it was her—the real Alice. It was like meeting a celebrity. “Can I have your autograph?” he asked.

“What?”

“Never mind,” he said. “My name is Albert. I’m kind of interested in jabberwocks myself.”

“That’s nice,” Alice said.

“Tomorrow morning I am setting out for the snark’s cave, which I’m told is guarded by the jabberwock. Maybe we can work together.” Having a companion along to help would be better than questing alone, Albert thought—especially if she was the real Alice. She seemed pretty slick even if she was just a girl with the same name.

Alice contemplated him. “What’s a jabberwock to you?” she asked.

“Vorpal told me there is something in the cave that will send me home.”

“Where’s home?”

“The Valley of Enchantment.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Join the club.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Alice said. “What something is in the cave?”

“Tell her elbow,” Old Vorpal said.

Alice stood up. “Well, it’s been nice knowing you guys,” she said.

Albert was distressed to see her disappearing just like that. Before, he had been willing to travel alone, but now the thought of it dismayed him. “We don’t know what it is,” he admitted. “We don’t even know if it will work. But Old Vorpal tells me it’s my only chance.”

Alice sat down. “That sounds like the object I’m looking for.”

“You want to get home too?” Albert asked with surprise.

“Not exactly. You know how to use the vorpal sword?”

“Not really,” Albert admitted. “I thought you might slay the jabberwock.”

“I’d try if I had to,” Alice said. “But I have people for that. And that people, Albert, is you.”

“Okey-dokey,” Mr. Katz said. “Albert is offering the sword. What are you offering?”

“Besides my sweet young self?” Alice asked.

“Besides,” Old Vorpal said.

Alice pulled a crisply folded map from inside her jacket and gave it to Albert, ignoring Old Vorpal’s extended hand. Albert sat down and smoothed it on the table with one hand. “Where did you get this?” he asked.

She only smiled at him.

When it became clear that the smile would be Alice’s only answer, Albert turned his attention back to the map. He didn’t see the Valley of Enchantment or any other place name he recognized from before the strangeness began. Most of the map was blank, marked only with the notation Here There Be Manxome Foes!

“What’s a manxome foe?” Albert asked.

Alice shrugged. “Bandersnatches, jabberwocks, jubjub birds—that sort of thing. You’re happier not knowing, trust me.”

Despite all the blank spaces, in the dim yellow lantern light Albert was able to make out a few points of interest: Oxford was on the map, as well as Brillig and a place off the coast called Snark Island. As Albert had already seen, the main road wandered a lot.

“Snark Island,” Albert said. “I guess that’s where we need to go.”

“That’s what I figure,” Alice said. “What do you say?”

Albert was of two minds concerning traveling with Alice. Despite her name, he knew nothing about her except that she occasionally broke into other people’s homes—joining forces with her sounded chancy at best. For one thing, what would she do when they found the object in the snark’s cave—assuming they got that far? But he had no choice if he wanted access to her map, which would certainly be more useful than Old Vorpal’s advice to “go west.” And having a companion seemed like a sound idea. He looked from Old Vorpal to Mr. Katz, hoping at least one of them would have an opinion. But they both just stared back at him blankly. The cat took a swipe or two at his furry flank with his tongue.

Albert thought about Mr. Katz’s explanation of the Dreamtime. Was it something other than coincidence that brought Albert and Alice here at the same moment? (And the fact that her name was Alice had to mean something.) Had the two of them always been here, doing the same things over and over, or all at once—like characters in a novel, doing different things on different pages, but every page being there all the time? Maybe it didn’t matter. If he wanted to get home, Albert’s best chance appeared to be to slay the jabberwock and get inside the snark’s cave.

“It’ll be light in an hour or so,” Mr. Katz said. “Vorpal, make breakfast and give them something for the road.”

“Give ’em elbow,” Old Vorpal grumbled, but he began to bustle around the cabin putting together a meal and collecting little cakes into a knapsack. He made a big omelet with sausage and mushrooms in it. It smelled good, but Albert hesitated before digging in.

“What?” Old Vorpal asked.

The food Albert was used to eating generally came canned, bagged, or frozen. Even the fruits and vegetables his mother bought at the local farmer’s market was grown specifically to be eaten by humans. The thought that Old Vorpal himself may have picked these mushrooms out in the uncivilized forest caused Albert to fear they might be poisonous.

“It’s not poison,” Old Vorpal advised him, certainly unaware of what Albert had been thinking. Mr. Katz put his front paws up on Old Vorpal’s knee, and he threw a big scud of egg onto the floor. Mr. Katz dived for it and ate it right up.

“Of course not,” Albert said, and began to eat. He suspected that he would have to learn to take his chances with the food he came upon or go hungry. He couldn’t expect to find places like Brillig out in the wilds. The food tasted pretty good, and he suffered no ill effects.

By the time they had finished eating the sun had hefted itself over the horizon and shined a golden light in through a window, making the sword look newer and more magical. The appearance of the sword and the fact that he was now full of food made Albert feel a lot more confident in the success of their quest.

Vorpal continued to complain as he loaded Alice and Albert down with supplies: the knapsack full of the little cakes, which he called muffinks, and a couple of canteens of water. He gave Albert a scabbard which he slipped onto his belt, and stuck the sword into it. Wearing the sword made Albert feel heroic.

“Thanks for everything,” Alice said, and kissed Old Vorpal on the cheek, causing him to blush and get busy at the sink. Albert shook hands with him. Then they both gave Mr. Katz a scritch behind the ears.

“Have a good time,” Mr. Katz said as they walked out the door and descended the stairs. As they crossed the clearing in front of the cabin, the tove watched them suspiciously, and the gryphon continue to sleep.

“This’ll be good,” Alice said enthusiastically.

“Right,” Albert said, hoping she could accurately read the future.