Chapter 13

"So, what's after the Borogrove?" I ask.
   "The desert," Chess replies.
   "And... How far away from the Borogrove is that?"
   "Only a couple of minutes..." Great. We should have picked up more fruit. And where on Dimmerland are we going to find water? I peel my orange, it's scent filling the air. Air... drifting on the breeze... the wind...
The wind! I hold my breath and slowly let it out. I'll never think of the wind the same. I shake the thought out of my head.
   "What kind of a desert is it?" I ask, getting my mind off of the evil wind. Ugh.
   "A sandy-ashen desert, of course. What other kind of desert is there?" March Hare replies.
   "Well, there are sand deserts, and tundra deserts where there is nothing but snow and ice..." I say. I trailed off because I'm not sure that I remember it all quite well enough. I seperate the orange into its natural wedges. "What can we expect in a sandy-ashen desert?"
   "Ponds, nights, brooks, and ships."
   "Ponds, brooks, and ships in a desert?" I cock my head in confusion. Isn't that all water-oriented?
   "Yes, they are all united in their ways," Chess says.
   "Stay away from brooks and ships when we get there. They are more dangerous. But nights are more unpredictable. Ponds are the only ones that are stable and virtually harmless," March Hare states. I take a bite of the first orange wedge and knit my brows together. They aren't making any sense here. Ponds? Brooks? Ships? How would nights be unpredictable? I shake my head and take another bite of orange. There is no point in trying to understand anything in Dimmerland until the momment I encounter it. My Earthen ideas are too preconcieved and too strongly engrained for me to even grasp the concept without experiencing it for myself. We walk in silence as we eat. I finish my orange.

My mind wanders around. I am so glad I am not in the Mind Maze anymore. I think of Trea, of the Jabberwalk, of Dimmerland, of the taste of the orange, of the poem, Lewis Carrol... my mind goes on and on. But I let it. All we can do is walk. My mind circles back to the Jabberwalk poem. "The Jabberwalk with eyes of flame..."
   "Alyssa, did you say something?" Dum asks. I said that outloud? oops.
   "Of course she did, didn't you hear her, Dum?" Dee replies.
   "I did, but what did she say?"
   "She was quoting the poem of the Jabberwalky!"
   "No, she ain't. She was talking of eyes of flame!"
   "So she did, and it was in the poem."
   "No, it wasn't."
   "Was so, it was in the stanza"
   "It was not"
   "'As he stood in uffish thought,
        the Jabberwalk, with eyes of flame,
     came whiffling through the tugley wood,
        and burbled as it came'
    Recall it?"
   "Oh, yeah... The flaming eyes..."
   "Do you know about the flaming eyes, Tweedles?" I ask. The Tweedles look at eachother as if in fear. "What do I need to know about them?"
   "We ain't never seen 'em before," Dum exclaims.
   "But, we can tell you this:" Dee says. I listen closely.
   "The Jabberwalk is cold-"
   "The eyes are of fire, the Jabberwalk of cold."
   "Excuse me? How is that so?" I ask. They make no sense. How can it be of both fire and cold?
   "It ain't so, you see," Dee says.
   "You will see that it ain't so," Dum reiterates.
   "Explain it to me," I request. I think I'll just shut up and let them talk.
   "They don't know what it is that they are talking about," Chess says.
   "Oh, Chess, hush," I say, lightly scolding him. "Boys, go on and explain it."
   "The Jabberwalk don't care." Dee starts.
   "Its cold, see," Dum adds.
   "And the eyes..."
   "The eyes are..." They both seem to be struggling and at loss for words.
   "They lie."
   "They make you think the Jabberwak cares."
   "Makes it hard for the slayer to slay it."
   "It never looks the same to more than one."
   "No, never!"
   "What do you mean that it never looks the same?" I ask, my head cocked.
   "It takes on the most advantagous appearance to over-take the current slayer."
   "If you hate everyone and everything, it will become something so strong and tough-"
   "That you shrink back in fear." I'm glad I'm not that way.
   "And if you are some one kind,"
   "It'll become cute so that you can't bring yourself to slay it." I'd like to think of myself kind. I hope that is not the case with me.
   "Also if you were a righteous person-"
   "It will become what you love most-" I wince. Old Man Time said that I am Trea's weakness. He also appeared AS my greatest weakness: Trea. Oh, that is not good...
   "Because that is the hardest thing to slay for you." I don't know if I could ever slay Trea if my life depended upon it. I would have to know for sure that he is the Jabberwalk someway, somehow.
   "It becomes either your greatest fear-"
   "Or your greatest weakness." Trea is my greatest weakness. My greatest fear is his death. I swallow my emotions back. Pressing my lips together, I give a nod of reluctant understanding. Oh, Trea, may it not be too late!

"See, here," Chess says. "The Sandy-ashen desert is here." I look up around me. And I cock my head. The desert is a giant chess board. Ashen squares alternated with the sandy squares. Sandy-ashen desert is certainly a proper name for it.
   "I go no further," Dum says, taking me by surprise.
   "Me neither," Dee echos. I turn to them.
   "Whyever not?" I ask. "You two have been wonderful help to me! Why won't you come with us the rest of the way? You have already come this far."
   "I might have come this far, but-"
   "Ain't crossing no desert, no how!"
   "But you have been such a big help! You unburried the door in the brick wall for the Vorpol Sword. And you both just gave me valuable information on the Jabberwalk just now. Do you really have to leave us?"
   "I'm afraid so."
   "Yes, we must."
   "So long, then." Ugh. I don't want them to go! They are great company. Wonderful sense of security. If they are talking to eachother in their peculiar way, I know it is alright. "I will miss you both. I will be sure to stop by on my way back." I give them both a hug.
   "Slay that Jabberwalk!" the boys call in tandem as the rest of us turn back towards the sandy-ashen desert.
   "I won't come gallumphing back uless its dead!" I say, as we take off into the desert.

The sun and the sandy-ashen desert does strange stuff to the eyes. Its like a giant chess board. And when I blink, I get purple floaters from the bright sand squares. I hope that we don't have far to go to get out of the desert. My eyes are already hurting from it all. The Vorpol Sword is knocking against my leg.
   "I wish the Sword belt would stop knocking against my leg," I say, completely random.
   "It is not a belt, it is a Sword sheath," March Hare says. Oh, so thats what its called. I couldn't ever remember it. I will keep that in mind for future reference.
   "The only way for you to do that would be to take it off," Chess says, nonchalantly.
   "I know," I say.
   "Then why-" Chess starts.
   "Because it is getting annoying. That's all," I interrupt. What is wrong with me? I'm snapping at Chess when he doesn't desrerve it.
"I'm sorry Chess. That was uncalled for."
   "It is not your fault," March Hare says.
   "Yes, it is. I have no right to be snapping at him like that."
   "You are under a lot of stress. It is understandable. Forgivable."
   "I dont know about that," Chess says.
   "Chess," March Hare says in a warning tone. "I don't think it is a wise idea for you to do that if you don't want to be mad at again." I look up into the clear blue sky, shaking my head. "Alyssa?"
   "Yes?" I reply.
   "Where did you get that stunning hat?" I reach up and touch my hat. I take it off, tracing my finger on the green trim and touching the red flowers...
   "I..." I try to think of a way to put it, not sure what to say, or if to say it.
   "You can tell us. The boys aren't here and we already know your secret..." Chess says. I give him a look that could kill.
   "I got it at a store," I say, my words clipped and short. I will never tell Chess the secret I hold within. Only Mr. Dodo knows it all. I wish that he didn't. I had to tell him, though. I tear up, staring at the hat, thinking of Trea and that horrid day. Of Mr. Dodo helping me despite what I'd like. Of Old Man Time showing up as my greates weakness and strength.
   "Alyssa?" March Hare says, startling me out of my thoughts. "Are you alright?"
   "I'm fine!" I say quickly, with a fake smile on my face. As I put on my hat, I wipe my tears off my face. I must be strong. I must be.

"Watch yourself," March Hare says. "We are coming upon a pond." My intrest is piqued and I look up.
   "Where?" I ask. I search the horizon for any sign of something.
   "Right over there," Chess points. "A tiny little blip on the horizon."
   "It is so far away," I say, squinting. "How can you know what it is yet?"
   "It has been in the same position, not moving about franticly, and it isn't moving quickly, either," March Hare explains.
   "But what if it is another person?" I ask.
   "It's not. People do not travel the desert alone. That blip is alone."
   "I see..." I say, with out actually seeing; just with understanding. The blip is moving steadily closer. Slowly, but closer. "So... what do we do when we come upon it?"
   "Nothing. And hope it decides to ignore you."
   "And if it doesn't?"
   "Then prepare yourself for battle. Because where there is one pond, there is an army. Usually." My eyes go big. An army? The pond is drawing steadily closer. Getting steadily bigger.
   "And... how big are they?"
   "As tall as two grown men. But that usually varies." My mouth goes dry. That is awful. I hope they are clumbsy. I can't think of any poems that has anything to do with ponds or deserts. I don't have the slightest clue on what to do! I draw the Vorpol Sword.
   "NO!" I look back at March Hare, surprised by his out burst. "You must not use the Vorpol Sword for ANYthing other than the Jabberwalk!" He shouts, terriffied. Is it really so bad using the sword for something besides the Jabberwalk? What would happen if I did? But I obey. I can't afford taking any unessecary risks. Trea's life- and mine- are at stake here. I can't risk it. Its just not worth it. I put the sword back in its sheath. How in Dimmerland am I going to defeat an ARMY if I don't have the use of a sword? Is there nothing I can use? I really, really, REALLY hope that they don't mess with us. So, I've learned something. A pond isn't a body of water. It already is making sense. I bet the brook, night, and shiip aren't literally that, either. Huh... this is very interesting, indeed.

I can now make out the shape of the pond. Ugh! Why didn't I think of this before? Its not a desert; its a ginormous chess board! And it isn't a pond; its a pawn! Which means... Brook is a Rook, night is the Knight or horseman, and ship is the Bishop! Ok, so, steer clear of the pawn. "This way," I say, leading us one square over. And then I walk straight ahead. Perhaps I can defeat them by their own game! I hope...
   "Brook!" March replies. I look around for Chess. He dissappeared. Coward. I look to the horizon in time to see a blip move from far left to directly in front of us. Grr.
   "Over here," I say, moving one square diagonal forward from where we are at. That was definately a rook. A knight appears three spaces diagonal ahead of us. ugh. "This way," I say, moving one square to the left. I scan the area to see if any more danger awaits us. A bishop is standing on our color, diagonal to us. None of the other pieces moved. grr... we have to move back in a diagonal. We step back, to our right diagonal. The Bishop move right, downward, in line with us again. We nudge ourselves directly to our right. The rook plants himself 5 squares directly to our left. I hope that there aren't anymore of them coming. We again move up diagonally to our right.

Its like we are the king chess piece and the chess men are trying to capture us. But our goal is that of a pawn: to get to the other side alive. We move forward, right diagonal; just out of the reach of the Knight. The knight moves 3 spaces diagonal from us, to our left. To avoid being ruined by the rook and to stay out of the knight's reach, we move diagonally upwards to our right. "How do you know where to move?" March Hare asks me. The bishop moves to our left in a diagonal.
   "On earth," I say, moving us forward one, "We have this game called Chess." The knight moves up two and over one. "It has several game pieces with similar names to the ones in the desert." The rook moves to the third square directly behind us. "Your Brook is called Rook." We move forward diagonally to our left to get out of line of fire. "Pond is Pawn." The Bishop moves downwards to our left. I can either take the Bishop down... Or I can move forward without a fight and still stay un-caught. "A ship is a Bishop." Which should I do? "And a night is a Knight, like the horse-man." I don't want to fight. I need to save it for the Jabberwalky. "Each piece can move in only a certain way." We move diagonally left and forward. "A pawn can only move one square at a time, going forwards." The knight is now directly in front of us. We make the same move again. "A biship can move only diagonally and only on his color."  We are almost out! We make the same move yet again. "The Rook can only go left and right, frontwards and backwards. It can not go diagonally."  The rook moves four places over in an attempt to stop us. "And the knights can go either two spaces out and one space over or one space out and two spaces over. But never diagonals. They can't do anything that is touching their square."  We make the last repeated move and we are out.

I look back at the way we came. Wow. An 18 by 18 square grid. And how large was each square? I do not know. Nor do I WANT to know.