Circus - Jace Cameron (читать книгу онлайн бесплатно без .txt) 📗

“That’s why you should think twice about the circus.”

“I told I’m not going to rethink it,” I say. “Tell me how to get to the circus.”

“I’m sorry, Alice,” it says. “I want to protect you from the circus, so I will not lead you to it.”

“You know what? I’ll find it myself.” I turn around and walk ahead.

Something inside me isn't right. I know it.

Since I put on the dress I’ve felt changed. I also feel a bit stubborn and childish in the way I am acting.

It’s that haze that surrounds my mind. Those distant memories that seem to crawl toward me, so slowly.

I wonder if I am suppressing certain memories and don’t really want to remember. Why, Alice? What happened to you in the past?

When I turn back to look at Tiger Lily, she is sleeping, as if she hadn’t been talking to me.

I decide I’ll message the Hatter back:

I can’t find the circus. You must have a clue how I should find it.

He responds:

I wouldn’t have needed your help if I did.

I write:

What’s so important in the circus?

He responds:

You will know when you get there. It concerns you as it concerns me. You have less than 10 hours, and the circus might be closing soon. I need you to find it while it’s full of people, or otherwise it will mean nothing to me. I’d hurry if I were you.

Chapter 48

Wonderland

Time remaining: 9 hours, 54 minutes

It occurs to me to call the Pillar, but I get no signal to the real world. However this works in Wonderland, I have no idea. I realize I’m as confused as the March Hare when he told me about the doorways.

And, of course, it occurs to me that I’m just in my own escapist La La land of my mind, evading that ultimate truth: that I had a bus accident and that I’m nothing but a crippled girl inside an asylum, killing time by making up stories.

In truth, there’s not much sense in anything I am doing—or have done since I met the Pillar.

In truth, I could be just insane, and anyone who is listening to my rambling is only a victim of my bothered mind.

In truth, I could just accept all the madness around me, and laugh at it, like a morning cartoon on a TV screen—you get a few laughs, eat your cereal, and just totally forget about it.

I can just admit my madness and be fine with it. Lie back as the world spins like a cuckoo around my head.

But what always bothers me about my madness is that I know about it. I question it. I try to analyze it. Aren’t mad people supposed to not know about themselves being mad?

My thoughts are interrupted by something all of a sudden. Something that connects the dots somehow. At least it moves things forward, just like our everyday lives when we don’t have an idea of what’s going on but hang on to the little clues we have for today.

What I see in front of me is the Snail Mound, the one the Hatter wanted me to find, and the March Hare warned me of.

Chapter 49

Meeting Hall, Buckingham Palace, London

Squeezed in a chair, among the big crowd in the hall, was Dr. Tom Truckle.

He had managed to fool the guards, pretending he was the person whom the invitation was originally for. It wasn’t hard. He wore his best tuxedo and rented an expensive Bentley, and made Ogier pretend he was his private chauffeur.

Once he arrived at the palace, he pompously flashed his invitation and trotted inside.

He was led through dimly lit corridors, one after the other, until he reached a secret meeting hall somewhere inside the palace.

Then he was shown his seat without anyone realizing what an impostor he was.

In the dimmed hall, he couldn’t see the many important men and women from all over the world who sat beside him. Was he really sitting among those people?

The stage itself was bright, awaiting the Queen’s arrival. Dr. Tom Truckle waited with anticipation to know what the heck this Event was about.

Chapter 50

Wonderland

Time remaining: 9 hours, 44 minutes

Stunned, I try to think it over. So the Hatter thought the Snail Mound was in the Garden of Cosmic Speculation in the real world, but it’s actually in Wonderland?

It seems plausible to me, since the Hatter seems ignorant of how to get to the circus.

Let’s rethink this, Alice. You’re here, mainly to catch a rabbit before it explodes, but to do that you have to play the Hatter’s game by finding the circus. That’s all you know about this. STOP analyzing and go find the circus.

I run barefoot toward the Snail Mound. It’s a spiral mountain, like inverted cones with green roads upward until you reach its tip. It reminds me of a picture I once saw of Babylon, but I’m not sure if the two images are related.

I climb and climb in wide circles, wondering what I’ll find at the top. Now it reminds me of Jack and the Beanstalk.

The spiral Snail Mound is huge. I am starting to pant, and I’m starting to feel weaker, but I keep going. It’s surprising that the spiral movement wears off the induced Alice Syndrome. I am starting to see things in their normal size again.

In the end, when I reach the tip, I realize it’s much smaller than I thought it was. A thought occurs to me suddenly: is it possible that Alice in the book never shrank, that she only was sick with Alice Syndrome, a scientifically known medical condition that may be caused by migraines?

Migraines? The kind Lewis Carroll suffered from? Is it possible that Lewis was ill? That his migraines drove him crazy? That he was just mad, like all of us?

I wash the nutty thoughts away, and focus on my climb.

It’s really comforting seeing things as normal as they should be—not that many things about Wonderland are normal.

But it’s beautiful from up here on the Snail Mound. It’s like staring at a rainbow from the seventh sky, not from earth. Every curve in Wonderland is enchanting. I can easily spot the Queen’s castle from here, and the Muffin Man’s house, which I visited before.

The highest point on the Snail Mound is empty, except for my Tiger Lily bouncing to the sunlight on top.

“How did you get here?” I ask.

“I am always here.” She snickers.

“No, you’re not. You were down there a few minutes ago.”

“Down there, up here, what does it matter?” She laughs. “As long as I have changed my mind to tell you about the circus.”

I try to calm down and not lose it. “Why did you change your mind?”

“Frankly, because you found the Snail Mound.”

“What does that mean?”

“The Snail Mound is only visible to three persons. That’s why the Hatter wanted you to find it for him.”

“Oh.” It makes a little more sense now. It doesn’t explain the bomb in the rabbit and the dress, gloves, and fan, though. “Are you saying he is watching me now, that I am leading him to a place he shouldn’t have access to?”

“It could be,” she says. “I’m not the Hatter, you know.”

Thinking about it, I still have no choice. I have to keep my deal with the Hatter so he’ll tell me where the rabbit is. “You said only three persons can find the Snail Mound?”

“Lewis Carroll, the March Hare, and... guess what?” She winks.

“The Real Alice?” I am hoping.

“You’re right about that.”

“So it’s me.” I sigh. “Finally.”

“Well, it’s still a bit tricky,” she says. “You see, you’re the Real Alice in an unreal world.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean since you’ve fallen into the rabbit hole, you’ve been transported to this place, which, frankly—I’m not sure what it is. It could be a mimicking version of Wonderland, or anything else.”