Figment - Jace Cameron (книги полностью .TXT) 📗

"The book is called Through the Looking Glass, and what Alice Found There," the Pillar lectures me again. "Now it's more of an Einstein's Blackboard Looking Glass now." He tries to sound funny, but he isn't. He knows the gravity of my fears.

"Is that why only the Real Alice can do it?"

He nods.

"But I am unimaginably afraid of mirrors," I say. "I will faint like in the fitting room."

"You can close your eyes, Alice, and I can guide you inside, hold your hand until you step inside," he offers. "The problem will be on your way back."

"How am I supposed to come back?"

"The same mirror and blackboard should be in Carroll's studio on the roof of the university, next to the Tom Tower."

"But there is no one to help there with closing my eyes."

"I know," he says. "Maybe Carroll could help."

"Why can't we just use the Tom Tower like last time?"

"The Tom Tower is the Bridge of Realities," the Pillar says. "It's like dreaming or crossing realms. Whatever you change there isn't going to change the future."

"But I gave Lewis the idea to write the Alice in Wonderland book last time."

"You might have, but it's not necessarily the real reason. Who knows why he wrote the book, really?" The Pillar pulls his hand back from behind the curtain. "Like I said, we still can go back to the asylum and be happy, insane people. You don't have to do it."

"If there is no one who can do it but me, then I have to do it." I rub the pocket in my jeans, right over the folded paper with Jack's identity. It's insane how safe it makes me feel.

I walk to the blackboard and write the date of January 14th 1862, the place of Lewis' study—because I don't know how to reach the Muffin Man if not through him. With my back to the blackboard, I close my eyes and ask the Pillar to bring the mirror and guide me through it.

As he pulls it close, I feel the walls closing in on me, because how good am I at closing my eyes and making sure they won't disobey me by just opening up?

Chapter 5 4

Lewis Carroll's studio, Oxford University, 1862

The transition to the past isn't as complicated as I thought. Once I step into the mirror, I feel the creaking wooden floor underneath me. I am in Lewis Carroll's studio. The air smells of violets and a scent called Fleurs de Bulgarie. I don't know how I know it. I just do, although it's not sold in the modern world.

I am afraid if I open my eyes, I'll find another mirror in front of me. Logically, it should be behind me, but I am too scared to run into the scary rabbit again. There is one thing I am sure of, though. I am back in my seven year old body like last time when I met Lewis through the Tom Tower.

"I need more costumes, Alice." Lewis' voice eases my worries. "I don't think I bought enough costumes from Drury Lane."

I open my eyes slowly. There is no mirror in front of me. I let out a sigh of relief, and check the pocket watch in my hand. It's fourteen minutes to seven in the evening. Time is definitely different than back there in Oxford, where it should be a little after midnight right now.

I look at Lewis standing before a large pile of costumes. His rabbit is standing atop it, nibbling on a carrot and scratching its head. Both are staring at the costumes, hoping to solve some problem. The piled costumes are cut and sewn back again together in smaller sizes after being redesigned. I wonder why Lewis would do this to the precious outfits.

"Why did you cut the costumes?" I ask, supposing I just fit in the scene as if I hadn't just reappeared out of nowhere. Who knows how this time travel really works.

"I told you, Alice," Lewis says.

"He told you, Alice," the rabbit repeats.

"Each costume had been designed for an adult," Lewis explains. "Cutting them in half makes each costume available for two kids instead of one."

"You want them to act in your plays?" I ask.

"Not the plays." Lewis sighs, still staring at the pile. "In the beginning, I used the costumes for entertaining the poor and homeless children. But then I discovered they needed the costumes themselves as shelter from the cold."

The more I know Lewis, the more I admire him.

"Maybe we could cut the costumes in three parts," the rabbit suggests. "The children are all smaller in size than normal children their age already. I think it could work."

"Why are the children smaller than their usual size?" I ask, wondering about the differences between past and future. Nowadays children are slightly oversized.

"Malnutrition, poor health, and the cold," Lewis answers. "These times are harsh, Alice. Look outside. The children are homeless and hungry. And this is only Oxford. Filth and poverty in London is much worse. It breaks my heart, Alice. I have to find a way to save them."

The words ring in the back of my head. Save them, he said. So those are the ones he couldn't save? Can I change the past and help him save them?

"We could build a shelter in the university's church, Lewis," the rabbit says. "Maybe give them some of my carrots." The rabbit shrugs, and its ears fall to the sides. It realizes the luxury of living with Lewis and having enough carrots to eat. It lowers its eyes and cuts the carrot in two halves. It puts one aside for later and nibbles slower on the one in hand.

"We need to find a way to get them food." Lewis looks as if he is responsible for their hardships. "And we need to educate them. Most of them don't know how to read."

As much as I want to help with the issue of kids, I need to ask them to help Gorgon. "Lewis," I utter. "We have to save the Muffin Man."

Lewis senses my unusual intensity and turns to me. "Who is the Muffin Man?"

"The Muffin Man. The Muffin Man. Who lives in Drury Lane," the rabbit sings.

"That Muffin Man." I point at the rabbit.

"You mean the nursery rhyme?" Lewis asks.

"No, I mean the Muffin Man," I insist. "Hmm...the cook. Yes, I mean the cook."

"The cook?" Lewis exchanges puzzled looks with his rabbit.

"The one who works for the Duchess." I didn't expect it to be this hard.

"The Duchess has no cook," the rabbit says. "She is looking for one, but she hasn't found a cook yet."

"I mean the Queen's cook." I remember that the Muffin Man used to work for the Queen, like the Pillar said. "The Queen of Hearts."

The rabbit slides back into Lewis' pocket and says nothing. I can hear its teeth chatter inside.

"You scared him." Lewis laughs. "The Queen of Hearts scares him. I think you mean Gorgon, the Queen's crops handler?"

"Yes, that's him." God, I lost so much time talking already.

"What about him?"

"He is in danger," I say. "We have to help him."

"What kind of danger?" Lewis stutters. This is the second time I've heard him stutter. I wonder if he was born that way.

"I don't know, but we have to help him before something happens to him."

"You're not m-making any s-sense." He seems embarrassed by the sudden stutter. He rubs his forehead. I think he has a migraine.

"I know, but please, Lewis. Let me see the cook."

"Ah," Lewis says. "Y-y-you are using Gorgon as an excuse to go back to W-w-wonderland." He seems to refer to a prior conversation I don't remember. "Like I said. I locked them and am not planning to open its doors anytime soon."