Alice in Wonderland- Through the Looking Glass Read online

  Copyright © 2016 Disney Enterprises, Inc.

  Book design by Megan Youngquist Parent

  All rights reserved. Published by Disney Press, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Disney Press, 1101 Flower Street, Glendale, California 91201.

  ISBN 978-1-4847-4181-8

  disneybooks.com

  disney.com/alice

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Prologue

  I

  II

  III

  IV

  V

  VI

  VII

  VIII

  IX

  X

  XI

  XII

  XIII

  XIV

  XV

  XVI

  XVII

  XVIII

  XIX

  XX

  XXI

  BOOM! BOOM! Cannon fire exploded in the dark, stormy sky.

  With a howl, the wind pushed the Wonder, as though helping it dodge the missiles. Rushing along its damaged deck, sailors secured loose lines and fought to keep the clipper afloat.

  The moon broke through the clouds, illuminating the three large Malayan junks bearing down on the Wonder, their cannons blazing. Above the decks, their red sails cut the sky like shark fins and their masts flew black flags broken only by a wicked devil’s face. These pirates would show no mercy.

  After cresting an enormous wave, the clipper slipped into a trough, briefly sparing its sailors the sight of their pursuers. But the view ahead was no better.

  The jagged outline of an island reared up in front of the Wonder. Rings of broken rock shoals—perfect for grounding ships—surrounded it.

  His arms straining, the helmsman wrestled with the steering wheel as cannonballs whistled through the air. Debris rained down on him, shattering the chronometer.

  “Sir!” the helmsman shouted to the first mate. “We’ve lost the clock! We cannot reckon our position through the shoals!”

  The first mate braced himself as a geyser of water splashed the deck. Scanning the deadly outcroppings ahead of the clipper, he felt a rush of despair. It was no use: the Wonder was being herded into a trap. He turned to a figure behind him.

  “Captain, we must surrender!” the first mate cried. “Or we shall all be lost!”

  Alice Kingsleigh stepped out of the shadows, her face fierce and determined. She had not worked so hard or traveled so far to lose everything. And she would not give in to flea-infested pirates.

  “I’m not sure surrendering my father’s ship guarantees survival, Mr. Phelps,” she said calmly.

  Alice glanced down at the sextant in her hand, measuring the angle of the moon, and then eyed the barrier shoals ahead. A thrill ran through her as she spotted something her first mate had missed.

  “Dead ahead! Full sail!” she cried.

  Her crew stared at her in disbelief. Had their captain gone mad?

  Mr. Phelps tried to reason with her. “Captain! The shoals…the ship will founder! That’s impossible!”

  “You know my views on that word, Mr. Phelps!” Alice shot him a stern look. Her father had taught her long ago that anything was possible, and Alice’s own adventures had proven that time and again.

  The first mate’s shoulders sagged, but he nodded and turned to yell at the crew. They scrambled to unfurl the sails fully, and the clipper sped toward the shallows surrounding the island.

  “Hard to starboard, Harper!” Alice shouted at the helmsman.

  “To starboard? We’ll surely capsize!” Harper cried.

  “Exactly, Harper. Exactly…” Alice said. Her eyes were lit with certainty. Harper had never known his captain to be wrong, so he pulled the ship to the right, gritting his teeth.

  The Wonder began to tip to the side even as it barreled toward the rocks. This has to work, Alice thought. Her mad plan was their only hope. But as Alice calculated their trajectory, she realized it wouldn’t be enough. Looking skyward, she spotted a young sailor struggling to unfurl the topsail.

  “Secure yourselves, men,” Alice called as she raced to a halyard. “We’re going to roll!” Grabbing hold of the rope, she slashed it with her sword. Alice’s eyes shone as the rope lifted her off the deck and carried her to the top of the Wonder. She danced through the rigging and severed the lines keeping the topsail closed. With a whoosh, the sail unfurled and snapped full in the raging wind.

  Here we go! Alice thought as the Wonder leaned fully horizontal and the mast she clung to dipped into the frigid ocean waves. The keel of the ship scraped along a sandy shoal; then a wave lifted it and pushed it beyond the barrier into calmer waters.

  Alice scrambled to reach the mainsails and used her sword to cut them. The sails slumped like weary travelers. Without the full force of the storm behind it, the Wonder swung upward, righting itself.

  Pushing her wet hair out of her face, Alice looked back. A fearsome grin spread across her features. The larger Malayan ships had splintered into pieces on the shoals. She’d done it. She’d saved her ship, her cargo, and her crew. Relief bled through her, untying the knot she’d been carrying in her stomach.

  A cheer rose from her crew as she slid down to the deck. Were it not for her, they would be dead, and they knew it. Stepping forward, Mr. Phelps bowed his head in admiration.

  “The only way to achieve the impossible is to believe it is possible,” Alice told him, thinking of her father’s ever-optimistic spirit.

  She fished her beloved pocket watch from her cloak and gazed at its inscription: Charles Kingsleigh, Esq. If only he could be by her side. Still, she could imagine him looking down at her with pride.

  A splatter of rain on her cheek brought Alice back to the present. She stepped across the deck and hung her pocket watch in front of the broken chronometer.

  “I trust this will guide us home,” she said. As her crew turned the Wonder toward London, Alice added softly under her breath, “It always has.…”

  THE WONDER SAILED up the Thames into the heart of London. Lining the shores like sentinels, factories and warehouses crowded together along the river, the streets between them twisting away around tight corners.

  Collecting her things, Alice moved about the captain’s cabin. She tucked her father’s watch into her coat pocket, even though it had stopped working a week earlier. Ever since her father had passed away, Alice had carried the pocket watch with her everywhere, almost like a talisman. While its hands were sadly frozen still, it made her feel closer to him.

  She scanned her cabin one last time, then headed up to watch the Wonder pull alongside a pier. Satisfied that her crew was properly directing the dockworkers unloading the Wonder’s precious cargo, she turned her attention to the wharf.

  A slender figure in a gray cloak caught her eye. With a cry of joy, Alice darted down the gangplank.

  “Mother!” Alice called as she ran toward her.

  Flinging her arms around her mother, she pulled her into a tight embrace. Helen Kingsleigh returned the hug a bit more stiffly, softly patting Alice on the back. She would never get used to her younger daughter’s enthusiastic displays of affection, but she was glad to have her back. Every day she’d been gone had been filled with a lifetime of worry.

  “Well, here you are…finally,” Helen said as she stepped away.

  Alice drew a breath to launch into stories of her exploits—she had so much to
tell her mother—but she stopped short as an unfamiliar man approached them.

  He was young and handsome. His wavy blond hair was neatly combed to the side, and his eyes were a startling blue. As Alice studied his simple, clean suit for a clue, she noticed the insignia stamped on a briefcase he carried. So he was from the firm, here to check up on her cargo.

  “You and the Wonder have been expected a year, Miss Kingsleigh,” he said.

  Alice blushed guiltily, although she felt a twinge of annoyance that he hadn’t addressed her as “Captain.” It was tiresome to return to England, where her position suddenly eroded to that of a young, unmarried woman. In every port abroad she’d been greeted with far more respect.

  Straightening her shoulders, she faced the stranger. “There were…complications,” she said. She doubted anyone else could have achieved what she had, and Lord Ascot would be pleased with her discoveries, despite the delay.

  “I daresay the cargo will account for time,” the man responded quickly, noting Alice’s stiffness. “I’m James Harcourt, ma’am. Clerk to the firm.” He held out his hand and Alice shook it, softening a bit as James nodded respectfully.

  “I should like to see Lord Ascot,” Alice said as the clerk led her and her mother to a hansom cab.

  Pausing at the cab’s door, James gazed at her solemnly. “Ah, I’m afraid Lord Ascot passed away whilst you were at sea.”

  Stunned, Alice turned to her mother, who nodded sadly in confirmation. Alice bowed her head, the loss weighing on her. Lord Ascot had been a singular man. There weren’t too many British shipping company presidents who would have taken a chance on her. But he had been more than a generous patron; he’d been a friend to her father and to her.

  “The title has passed to his son,” James continued.

  “Hamish?” Alice struggled to hide her astonishment.

  “Indeed, now also chairman of the board,” James said.

  Alice would not have been more shocked if the clerk had climbed atop the hansom and belted out “God Save the Queen.” She could not picture Hamish—droopy-faced Hamish—in charge of anything, much less the company her father had begun. She clambered into the hansom, mulling over the news.

  Of course the title and company shares would have passed to Hamish, but he’d always been so uninterested in business matters that his father had given up trying to involve him. Hamish was more concerned with mastering the latest dance step or finding the perfect wife to parade around. Thank God Alice had turned him down; they would have been a terrible pair! She hoped they’d be able to work together. Perhaps the years had changed him. Perhaps he had grown up. At the very least, she hoped he would stay out of her way as she broadened the company’s trade routes.

  Deep in thought, she was oblivious to the blue butterfly struggling to keep up with the cab.

  When they pulled up to her childhood home, Alice sat forward. The redbrick townhouse was just as she’d remembered, even after three years away. She followed her mother inside.

  With a decisive click, the front door swung shut just before the blue butterfly reached it. The creature seemed almost to swat angrily at the solid wood before fluttering up to a window instead. Its wings beat soundlessly against the glass.

  Alice stood in the front hall, a bit disappointed. While the outside remained the same, the interior was dark and cold. No fires had been lit to welcome them home and the air felt dusty.

  “Where’s Mary?” Alice asked.

  “I’m afraid I let Mary go. I’m perfectly capable of keeping house myself,” Helen said.

  She reached for Alice’s bag, as Mary would have done, to take it up to her room, but Alice picked it up first. She couldn’t let her mother serve her.

  Shivering slightly, Alice stepped toward the drawing room, planning to light a fire herself, but the sight of the room stopped her short. Half the furniture was missing, including the large red couch and the overstuffed velvet chair she’d always loved. Even the sideboard table was gone, an imprint of its outline on the floor the only sign it had ever been there at all.

  Her mother smiled awkwardly at Alice’s confused expression and headed downstairs.

  “Always warmer down here,” she offered.

  Once inside the basement kitchen, Helen plucked cups and saucers from the cupboards and set them out for tea. Alice spotted new lines on her mother’s face and streaks of gray in her hair. Frowning, she peered at her more closely. Helen’s slender frame was thinner than before, and her hands shook slightly as she lifted the steaming kettle off the stove. Time seemed to be taking its toll on her.

  “Now then,” Helen said, breaking the silence. “Your letters were so infrequent. I hardly know where you have been all this time.”

  “Oh, Mother! The Wonder brought back a hundred kinds of tea from China!” Alice began eagerly, setting aside her worries about her mother for the moment. “And silks of colors you’ve never seen before. I met with emperors and beggars…holy men…and pirates!”

  Helen’s smile disappeared.

  “Were you never afraid?” Helen asked worriedly. She poured the hot water into a teapot.

  “When I was, I thought of Father,” Alice said. She settled into a wooden rocking chair near the stove.

  “You sound like him. He’d be so proud. But, my dear, an extra year? At my age you realize that time is a cruel master.”

  Alice absently rubbed her fingers over her father’s pocket watch. “And a thief to boot,” she murmured darkly. Time was no friend of hers, having stolen her father too young. “The best are taken first.”

  Helen turned back to the tea. “And the dregs left behind, I suppose?” she muttered to herself. She shook her head and lifted the tea tray, determined to be cheerful.

  “I hear the Ascots are marking Hamish’s succession tonight,” Helen said as she sank into an armchair opposite her daughter.

  “Perfect. We should go,” Alice said. She needed to establish her working relationship with Hamish, and there was no time like the present.

  “Without an invitation?” Helen blinked at her daughter, her brow furrowed.

  “Lady Ascot once said we would always be welcome.” Alice waved her hand nonchalantly.

  “But, Alice…” her mother began.

  “Besides, I have a proposition for Hamish,” Alice continued.

  Helen pursed her lips. “He married last year, Alice. He seems to have gotten over your public rejection—although I would imagine the other three hundred guests might still remember it.”

  “A business proposition, Mother!” Alice nearly rolled her eyes. Then she sat forward, unable to contain her excitement. “It’s time we saw the world as our partner, not a pocket to be picked. When I return to China, I’ll prove it’s so.”

  “You aim to leave so soon?” As though she could fend off her daughter’s departure as well as the cold, Helen drew her shawl tightly. She gathered her next words carefully. “There are matters here that would benefit from your attention.”

  Alice patted her mother’s hand reassuringly. “After my next voyage, you won’t have to worry anymore. About anything.”

  “Am I permitted to worry tonight?” Helen asked.

  Answering her mother with only a grin, Alice set off upstairs.

  Helen sighed. She had recognized the twinkle in her daughter’s eye. If she knew Alice, whatever happened that evening would be memorable, to say the least.

  Alice carried her luggage up to her childhood room and pushed open the door. It was like stepping directly into the past.

  Her favorite doll was propped up on the bed, and her collection of seashells cluttered a side table. The air still held the scent of lily of the valley from a perfume bottle Alice had “borrowed” from her sister and accidentally broken.

  Plunking down her bag, Alice wandered to the writing desk. She picked up a sampler she’d made at age twelve. The embroidery on the alphabet at the top was a little shaky, but she’d taken more time with the center, where the stitches perfectly f
ormed her father’s favorite motto: “Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast.” Sighing softly, she brushed her fingers over the blue thread, then set the sampler aside.

  She found a stack of drawings and watercolors of Underland. She smiled as she thumbed through them. Each of them came to life in her hands as the vivid memories replayed in her mind.

  There was the garden of talking flowers and the odd assortment of creatures she’d met there: a dodo bird; Mallymkun, the Dormouse; the Tweedle brothers—Tweedledum and Tweedledee—and, of course, McTwisp, the White Rabbit, who had led her to Underland twice.

  In another painting, the Tweedles escorted her through a field of giant mushrooms. They’d been on their way to talk to Absolem, the wise Caterpillar, to determine whether Alice was, in fact, the Alice. It had been a hotly debated subject. With a jaunty wink and a broad grin, Chessur, the Cheshire Cat, stared up at her from another page. But the next one she turned to made her shudder.

  The deadly dragon, the Jabberwocky, crouched atop some crumbling ruins. It spread its black wings wide, and its tail whipped through the sky. Alice had volunteered to be the White Queen’s champion to face the loathsome beast. It remained the scariest thing she’d ever done. Only her faith in the impossible’s being possible had carried her through it. Well, that and the enchanted Vorpal sword, which had ultimately helped her slay the Jabberwocky.

  Alice flipped to a more peaceful painting. She and the Mad Hatter stood on the polished white stone balcony at Marmoreal Castle, a series of waterfalls sparkling in the distance.

  Hatter turned to the Alice in the painting. “You would have to be half mad to dream me up,” he said.

  “I must be, then,” the watercolor Alice responded.

  Hatter and Alice smiled at each other.

  Alice recited the next words along with her painted self: “I’ll miss you when I wake up.”

  It was true: she had missed Hatter dearly the past three years. His odd view of the world had blended well with her fierce streak of individuality. And he would have loved to visit all the exotic places she had seen. Every time she had encountered a new fashion style (particularly a hat) or tasted a unique tea, she had thought of him. If only he could have joined her.