ETTING   OME   O   LFANDRA

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Anton's Journey chapter 11 - Joined by Another

 Once again, Anton was being guided through Wonderland to an unknown destination. However, unlike his last guide, Turtle was not constantly complaining that they were late, nor did he speed off leaving Mouse and Anton behind. He only hoped that unlike Rabbit, Turtle would not suddenly turn upon those he was leading.
 Initially, Turtle had been reluctant to even have Anton in his home, let alone lead him to one of Wonderland’s most reverend characters. “I’m old.” Turtle had complained, “Too old to need the trouble such as the likes of you. Look around you, what do you see wolf? Decay. Corruption. Wonderland is no longer a peaceful place.”
 “Yes, I have seen this for my self,” Anton had said, pointing to the remnants of a scar on his check left by the venomous serpentine bird he had encountered previously. It was a wound that would remain with Anton probably for some time to come. “But why all this? What catastrophe befell Wonderland to twist it in such a manner?”
 “A good question, and I wish I knew myself. Do you think I enjoy living like this? Shutting myself away in the middle of a dank swamp, surrounded by traps of my own creation, living in constant fear?”
 “Some might call that paranoia.”
 “Some might be right. But I still have been given no cause to help you.”
 Anton shrugged, “You make more sense than any other creature I’ve met so far. I wish I could help in Wonderland’s plight, but all I desire is to return to my home.”
 “You’re not of our world are you?”
 “No, I’m from another plane… I don’t really know how I got here. But one thing I do know; rabbit lured me here. For what purpose I do not know.”
 “Rabbit? Why, I haven’t seen him in ages.” Turtle said, his eyes lighting up nostalgically. “How is he?”
 “He attacked me.” Anton said, bluntly.
 “Attacked you? That’s not the Rabbit I used to know. Sad things are afoot in wonderland indeed.”
 “Yes yes, boo-hoo, we’re all very sorry, but there are more important things to worry about than a carrot munching, floppy-eared rodent!” Mouse said, interrupting the conversation. The fact that he was being largely ignored by the other two annoyed him.
 Turtle grunted, “And yet, you are the same as you have ever been Mouse. Ill-tempered and irritating!”
 Mouse crossed his arms defiantly. “Just because I’m small doesn’t mean you can just ignore me. I think we should help him.”
 If he’d had eyebrows, Turtle would have raised one. “You’ve changed your tune now. Why should I help this stranger? Do we really know him? What if he’s an agent of the Red Queen?”
 “Because,” Mouse said bluntly, “He’s met her.”
 “You have?” Turtle said, turning his attention sharply back to Anton. “You have encountered… Alice?”
 “Indeed I have, and I have felt her power. Who is the real menace here, The Red Queen or she?”
 “Again, I wish I knew myself. It is confused. The Red Queen holds the political power… but there is more going on here than meets the eye. I have theories.”
 Now it was Anton’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Such as?”
 “It’s a clear phenomenon. Wonderland was never this way until Alice arrived. Slowly, things started changing… The Red Queen became more cruel, her agents more violent, the world turned from being bizarre to twisted. And all the while Alice became more and more powerful. Something went amiss.”
 “Indeed.” Anton said, nodding sagely, “But in any case, what is wonderland?”
 “I’ll let Caterpillar explain that one.”
 “So you will take me?”
 “You, my friend, will need to be of a sharper mind if you plan to face The Red Queen.”
 “But… I don’t.”
 “Oh yes, my friend” Turtle said, clapping Anton on the shoulder, “you do.”

 And it had happened just like that. They had spent the night in Turtle’s shack, after consuming what little food there was from the swamp. Beetles and grubs didn’t particularly appeal to Anton, but food was food. And rest was rest, for even though his only sleeping surface was the hard wooden floor, he was asleep before his head had even touched the floor.
 And so here they were, the next morning, trudging through the gloomy, misty swampland; at least he thought it was morning, hard to tell as it was in Wonderland. Anton walked with Turtle, whilst Mouse was forced to follow behind on the narrow path, much to the rodent’s chagrin. Turtle was more confident in where they were going, more skilful than Mouse in navigating the swampland, which he called home.
 “Those traps around your home were quite impressive. I noticed the mechanical parts in your home. Are you a machinist?” Anton said, trying to fill the silence with conversation.
 “Indeed, I am, or at least I used to be…” Turtle said, vaguely. “The point bears no relevance. My Mockery is totally unassailable, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Of course, there are certain things traps cannot guard against. Like Alice.”
 Anton sighed. “Again, that name. You know, even though I have only been in this land for a few days, already I come to loathe it.”
 “A wise attitude indeed.”
 And so the party of three trudged onwards, winding their unhurried way, through mud, and sludge, and slime, until Turtle bade them stop.
 “We must take a different route now,” he said, turning to his companions, “Lest we befall the patrols of Card Guards that haunt these lands now.”
 “So where are we going then?” Mouse said, impatiently, “And my paws are killing me, and are we nearly there yet?”
 “All in good time,” Turtle said, gruffly. “Now we go below.” He pointed to a large hole in the ground nearby, “Down there.”
 Anton walked to the lip of the hole and peered downwards. The sound of rushing water could clearly be heard below. “An underground river? How do we traverse such a route?”
 Already Turtle was dragging their vessel out from behind a barbed shrub, where he had kept it concealed. Another of Turtle’s inventions, the craft was a log carved into a hollowed canoe. The fact that swamp rot was clearly setting in did not seem to bother it’s creator.
 “You expect us to ride that?” Mouse said, showing displeasure, “It barely looks good enough to stay afloat!”
 “Beggars cannot be choosers.” Grumbled Turtle, thrusting Mouse into the vessel. Anton followed, keeping his mouth shut.