Chapter I: A Wonderful Girl

  "Upon a hill, there is an Oak. And between it's twisting gnarled roots, there is a hole. And if you squeeze between the roots and the damp, dark earth, you will find... a strange place."

  The tavern was still as the old hunter spoke, and Hans, sitting on his fathers lap, strained to hear him over the sound of the rain drumming on the roof. The tavern was packed, as it usually was on such dark nights, when the elders of the village took turns telling stories and tales for the benefit of young and old. Tonight was a special treat, for the man speaking was a retired hunter and later merchant, and had traveled much in his youth. He even claimed to have been as far as Sturmhausen, the largest city in the Schattenwald. But that was almost two months of travel, and no one really believed the old man's boasts.

  His cracked and fading voice was still clear as it sounded through the quiet tavern. "That place is not just different because of the trees, no... It is not different because of the people, peculiar though they are... It is different because it is not a real place. Past that hole, under the oak, on top of that hill, reality does not hold as firm a grip as it does in our forest. Here a tree is just a tree, a rock is just a rock. But there a tree may walk, a rock might be a... a sweetcake!"

  Hans laughed along with the other children and adults. This was shaping up to be a really tall tale, perfect for a cold night like this, with the fire roaring and the people packed close together. The old hunter laughed along for a moment, then his expression turned dark.

  "Yes, this does seem amusing. But a walking tree might strangle you in your sleep. A rock that is a cake might turn back into a rock after you have eaten it and kill you. Any flowers you see might be an illusion, any animal a horror."

  Hans turned to his father, eyes wide. He just gestured with his pipe for him to pay attention.

  "This place has a name.", continued the old man. "It is not often repeated, for it is best forgotten. But you should know what stalks our forest, and you should know whence it came from."

  The old hunter let his gaze sweep across the room, and Hans lowered his eyes as the pale gray eyes passed over him. He felt his father's reassuring hand on his shoulder and steadied his nerves.

  The old Hunter made himself comfortable on his chair, and pulled out a tin of sniffing powder. After snorting up a pinch, and the subsequent hacking cough, he continued.

  "This happened, oh, over ten years ago... Alice - for that was her name - was the daughter of a rich miller. He and his wife pampered their little girl as much as a little girl could be pampered. She had dolls, she had pets, and ate sugared treats every day." The scowl on the old man's face made clear his opinion on spoiling children.

  "And so she was used to getting what she wanted. And one day, she wandered off without telling her parents. And she wandered, and wandered... Until she came upon a hill. And upon that hill stood an oak. And under that oak, a dark hole. Now, the people of the village knew of the hole and the tree and the hill, but I'll get to that in a moment. There was a fence. Alice climbed the fence. There were signs, warning her away. Alice ignored them. There were planes of wood blocking the hole, but they were old and brittle, and she pushed them aside. And then Alice climbed down the hole."

  The old man held the tension for a moment, every eye fixed on him. The children breathless, the adults mirroring his grim expression.

  "Now, as I said, the people knew of the hole, and where it lead. Alice was not the first to enter it. Lost shepherds had entered it, brave knights, avaricious thieves... Some even returned. Staying but an hour in that strange and devilish place may cost you your memories, or an arm or a leg. Those who returned only have memories like dreams, all nonsense and twisted up like a pretzel. Some returned with the minds of children, others convinced they had spend a hundred years down there."

  The old man raised a finger. "Spending one day in there will drive you mad. Those who did and returned were raving about all sorts of insanity. Some saw cats everywhere, others became obsessed with things like tea or went of to search of things that don't exist, like pink birds with necks as long as walking sticks." The old man laughed at this foolishness, and the children dutifully chuckled along, but it was a forced laugh.

  "This place, as terrifying as it is, is full of magic, much more powerful than you will find in the Schattenwald. The meanest mushroom may turn you into a giant, cakes will grant wishes, and gold may grow on trees. Enchanted swords may be found, or flying horses... Just about anything is possible. Those who return spoke of such strange beauty and wonder that the place came to be known as... Wonderland."

  The rain seemed to quiet for a moment at the mention of the place, and every ear strained to head the old man speak.

  "There was, however, one thing they all spoke of. That other place, that land of wonders, has a ruler. A tyrannical queen. She is known as the Red Queen, and even the mention of her name is enough to bring fear into the hearts of any who have met her. She is also rumored to be greedy, which has led to many a foolhardy man to enter the hole with gifts and trinkets in hopes of appeasing her, and gaining her favor. None of them returned." he finished flatly.

  "Now remember I said that a single day in Wonderland might drive a grown man insane? Alice went in; a day passed. Her parents searched, another day passed. They found her tracks to the oak, another day passed. No one was willing to follow her inside, another day passed. Her parents gave up hope, another day passed. They had a funeral for her, and the priest put an empty casket into the ground. Another day passed. On the seventh day, Alice came back out of the hole."

  The old man saw the look of hope on the faces of the children, and shook his head. "It were better she hadn't. Alice was changed. It was hoped that a child might better survive the madness of that place. But seven days... When Alice emerged, she was well and truly mad. And would that that was the only evil visited upon the child, but no."

  He shook his head. "Alice didn't just return. She brought some of the madness of that place with her. Everywhere she went, the world changed to suit her whim. If she thought of cake, things turned into cakes. The trees, the rocks... the people."

  The harsh drumming of the rain on the windows was the only thing that could be heard in the silence.

  The old man sighed. "And so it is that since that day, she has her watchers, Hunters who follow her through the woods at a distance and lure her away from villages and towns; fairy bells set at every door of every village to warn of her approach. It is the reason that every village has a stash of fireworks: To distract and turn Alice away should the misfortune befall them that her endless wanderings bring her close."

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Silence blanketed the tavern when the old man finished his tale. Hans looked from his father to the old man, then the rest of the adults. Quiet nods. A child at the front raised a hand.

  "Were you- were you one of the hunters that followed her?" Asked a girl in a squeaky voice.

  The old man smiled. "No, I was a hunter, not a Hunter. But I saw her once. Over in Brückentall, that's about four villages north of us, near the Goldstein kingdom. From a distance, she seems normal. There's a-" he frowned, searching for the right word "- shimmer in the air around her; barely visible during daylight. Things change around her. It might be summer, and where she steps, there is snow. Trees grow or shrink, and animals are drawn to her. I heard she now travels with a lindworm, a gigantic lizard that guards her when she sleeps!"

  All the children's eyes went wide at the mention of such a mythical beast. But the old man gave a sly smile, his eye finding the other elders, betraying that he was perhaps exaggerating. His smile faltered as his eyes went distant with an old memory.

  "I remember speaking to a Hunter who got trapped and couldn't get away as Alice strode towards him. He said it was terror as he'd never felt. The trees melted before her steps and grew back behind her in wicked shapes. The ground under her feet was a carpet of mushrooms, each a different color. Then she passed him by without a glance. He was lucky that day."

  He raised a finger, frowning.

  "Another thing he said: she got younger the closer she got. Far away she seems her age, but once you enter her domain, she seems younger and younger, until you're looking at the little girl who walked up that hill and down that hole all those years ago."

  The old man returned to present and leaned back in his chair, signaling the end of the tale. Hans released a breath he didn't know he had been holding. He turned to his father, who was taking a sip of beer.

  "Papa, is it true? Is Alice out in the forest somewhere? Is she coming here?"

  His father gave him a conflicted look, weighing the truth against his childhood innocence. He took in a deep breath, raising his hand and ruffling Hans' hair.

  "Son, there are many scary things in the Schattenwald, but very few ever bother to go near a village. And you heard what elder Noel said, Alice has Hunters tracking her all the time. She won't get near us."

  "But what if-"

  "We are safe." said his father, looking him in the eyes and holding his gaze. "You have more to worry about from wolves and bears than Alice. Now go say thank you to elder Noel for his story. Here's a groschen to buy him a beer."

  His father waved at the waiter and pointed to Hans and then to elder Noel, who was basking in the admiring looks of the children and approving nods of the other elders. A story had been well told.

  Hans dutifully brought elder Noel his beer, and stood there awkwardly as he was praised by the other elders. In avoiding everyone's glances, he was the first to see one of the town watchmen enter in a hurry, leaving the door open for the whipping wind and rain to intrude upon the cozy atmosphere. He ran straight for the mayor, and urgently whispered something in his ear. They exchanged a few words and then the mayor stood up and banged his chair on the wooden floor a few times. The tavern quieted as everyone turned to look.

  "Attention please. Everyone go to their homes and prepare to evacuate." He raised a hand against the murmuring that arose. "There is a... danger of a... flood, and we must be ready to move should the river overflow."

  The mayor eyes found the most prominent people of the village. The butcher, the teacher, the captain of the watch, and the chief hunter. They gathered around him and left as a group, while assuring everyone that things would probably be fine.

  Hans searched for his father in the growing panic, not seeing him anywhere, but soon a hand reached out for him, and lifted him up in a carry hug. His father ran with his to their house, telling him to hurry and gather clothes and valuables. In less that ten minutes, they were standing amid a growing crowd in the village square. More and more people were arriving in the whipping rain. Those who hadn't been at the tavern loudly demanding explanations that an increasingly harassed mayor was struggling to keep up with.

  "Flood? What nonsense! The river hasn't flooded in my lifetime!" said the weaver.

  "And how do you know that the river is going to flood? It's barely rained all week!" said a disgruntled older woman, holding a coat over her head to keep away the pouring rain.

  Tensions were rising, and the mayor's inability to answer simple questions was making the crowd agitated. Voices he had only ever knows as calm, and sometimes admonishing, were becoming hard and angry.

  Hans thought he noticed something in the woods, but a blink later is was gone. There it was again! A light glimmered over the forest, playing over the trees.

  The village was built on a hill, another reason why floods weren't probable, which gave him a nice view over a good stretch of forest. A glimmer, like a trick of the eye, was breaching the dense treetops a fair distance from the village.

  Suddenly, a small sound cut through the shouting of the crowd. A tiny crystal chime, innocently ringing a clear high note. It scythed across conversations, whispers and exclamations. For a moment, everything but that fragile sound was silenced.

  "The fairy bells!" someone called.

  "It's Alice!" called another.

  These two words were as a match to oil. Panic flamed across the crowd and Hans felt a tightening on his heart. People he had known his whole life carried expression he had never seen before. Their faces turned to masks of fear as they looked around like trapped animals, clutching belongings and loved ones.

  "Quiet!" the mayors voice boomed across the square, silencing the crowd. "The Hunters from Goldstein are here and have gone out to divert her. We also have our own fireworks, and even if that doesn't work, we will simply move out of the way and let her pass."

  He raised his hands to the protests. "There has not been a village lost to Alice in years. The Hunters know what they are doing."

  Hans turned back to where he had seen the glimmer over the forest. It seemed closer, and though it should be clearer, he still couldn't make it out. At time it seemed like light flickering, other times like it were the shadows that were playing strange games. As it grew closer, the fairy bells on each front door rang more and more violently, a frantic ringing as if the bells themselves were trying to escape their hooks. He could now make out the lights. Purple-blue streaks with after-images of green. The trees seemed to stretch and move as the light reached them, the forest swelling like the sea.

  An explosion, far to the north; a light expanding over the forest. A firework! Hans had seen fireworks only once before. Huddling amid the panicked crowd, it was almost comically festive, but no one was smiling. Another firework went off to the north-east. This one was green, with red trails. Hans had been told that they weren't actually magic, but the goblins who made them kept the secret of their making.

  The ringing of the bells lessened, everyone desperately listening to the sound, holding each other tight. The bells faded, relaxing into silence along with the villagers. The silence was punctured by a final firework, far to the north. A blue flower of light expanded over the forest, as the strange glimmer that announced Alice's presence faded from view.

  No one dared speak, lest they draw her attention back to the village. Everyone just stood, holding on to their loved ones tightly, eyes trying to pierce the dark of the Schattenwald. Someone pointed to the forest, and a few cries went up as a figure stepped out of the dark treeline. It was a Hunter, dressed in black and carrying a strange bulky backpack, but no bow. He stepped up to the mayor and said something. The mayor visibly relaxed, and shook the man's hand gratefully. With a wide smile, he turned to the assembled villagers and loudly declared. "The danger is past. You can all go home and sleep peacefully."

  A loud cheer answered his words and families hugged each other at the happy ending of this trying night, relieved and smiling faces everywhere. Hans looked at the forest, towards the spot where the hunter had stepped back into the dark, unafraid. What must it be like, to spend your life following a walking disaster, to direct it away from innocent people and to protect the entire Schattenwald?

  When he took his father's hand and followed him home, his eyes were still on the forest edge. It seemed to Hans a worthy life.