Jabberwocky (12 page)

Ollie laid back in bed. “Try to figure out a way to get at the Jabberwocky’s belly or neck. I don’t know how you’ll get close enough, but those are the only parts any of us could pierce.”

“If he didn’t have Elora…” Tjaden let the words hang in the air. “I’m leaving tomorrow, Ollie. I told Darieus I don’t want to bother with well-wishers crowding the streets. He agreed, and said he was going to suggest it to avoid other would-be rescuers from following me.”

Elbowing up in bed again, Ollie said, “I’d tell you to take any Elite who would go along if I thought it would do any good. But I don’t think a hundred Elites could kill that thing.”

“Thanks for the encouraging words,” said Tjaden with a smile.

“Like I could stop you if I tried. It’ll work, Jay. Captain Darieus wouldn’t waste his time just to send you to your death.”

“I hope you’re right. Because I’m going either way.”

Tjaden lay in bed for hours considering the details Darieus had given him about the Jabberwocky—its history, its superb sense of smell, and its motivation. But hours of pondering didn’t bring any answers.

By sunrise the next morning he was out of the city and on the road, pleased to no end by the lack of crowds and formal send-offs.

With two horses and enough food for three weeks, Tjaden traveled in the brown workman’s clothes he’d arrived in. The journey would only take one week in each direction, but he needed enough food for two people on the return trip. Though he knew the path ahead would be thorny, he was relieved the day of action had arrived. Practicing, planning, and preparing were fine, but he preferred action.

As he rode, Tjaden counted the coins in the pouch Darieus had given him. Ten gold pieces in addition to some silver and copper! He’d never held more than a couple silvers at one time. Towns along the way sold supplies, but Tjaden didn’t want to waste time or encounter a lot of people. The coins would only be used if it became necessary.

The hunt for the Jabberwocky would truly begin at the Tumtum tree. The Harbinger Spoke, the road to the northwest, led to the forest where he would find it. Darieus had offered Tjaden a contingent of soldiers as an escort, but Tjaden insisted on riding alone. Any danger he faced along the way would be minor compared to his final goal. In addition, he’d grown wary of Darieus and didn’t know if he or his men could be trusted.

The moon shone brightly so he was able to ride into the night. Hours after sunset, he made camp under a large willow. As soon as the sun rose the next morning he was on his way. The Harbinger Spoke ran within a few miles of a dozen towns, but not directly through any of them, so Tjaden was able to keep to himself.

After riding a couple of hours on the second day, the road entered a forest of oak and maple. Not more than a hundred yards into the woods Tjaden came to a fork. The sudden split puzzled him; Darieus hadn’t mentioned it.

He paused in the center of the road to consider the options. There were no signs, no tracks in the road, and no indication which way was correct. Deep in thought, he nearly fell off his horse when he heard what sounded like a boy clearing his throat. Ripping his sword from its scabbard, he demanded, “Who’s there?”

Looking about he saw no one. He was alone on the road. In his wary state he instantly located the source of the noise when it sounded again. Lounging in the neck of a tree was a large cat. It was grey with broad black stripes, plain except for the broad smile that extended past the sides of its face. That and the odd sounds it made. The teeth were sharp like any other cat’s teeth, but it had way too many of them.

“How do?” annunciated the cat.

Tjaden stared in surprise.

“I say, how…do…you…do?” it repeated.

“I…ahem. Did you say something?”

“No, I did not say ‘
something’
. I merely inquired after your current state of well-being. Or poor-being as the case may be.”

The animal continued to smile a ridiculously wide grin.

Tjaden had no idea how to answer. “I’m…uh, a bit confused, I suppose.”

“Oh wonderful!” said the strange cat. “Imagine the two of us meeting in the
exact
same state of mind. Forgive me, I’ve forgotten your name already.”

“I haven’t given it,” replied Tjaden.

“I don’t want you to give me your name. I’ve a perfectly good one, after all. And besides, I have nothing to give you, and Cheshire simply would not work. You’re much too serious.”

Still trying to figure out the strange creature, Tjaden asked, “Are you…a cat?”

“Heavens, no. I am a Cheshire Cat.”

“A Cheshire Cat is still a cat.”

“And a sea horse is a horse. A prairie dog is a dog. And a woman is a man.”

After pausing to consider, Tjaden said, “I see your point. So you’re not a cat.”

“And you’re not a cat either. That makes four things we have in common.” As if to remind himself he counted them off, “—confusion, the name Cheshire, not being a cat, and having four things in common with each other.”

“I believe that’s only three things,” started Tjaden. “Wait, my name’s not Cheshire. It’s Tjaden.”

“What’s Tjaden?”

“
I‘m
Tjaden.”

“Oh dear. Well do you like to scratch behind your left ear like so?” The curious animal reached its right forepaw around its head and scratched vigorously.

“Well, no.”

“Aha! Me neither. That’s three things again!”

Frustrated, Tjaden asked, “Can you just tell me which way to go?”

It chuckled and in its pleasant voice answered, “Ah, they always want me to tell them which way to go.”

“Who do?”

“You do.”

“Who’s you?”

“You who ask me which way to go, of course! My dear boy, I would not say you are confused.”

“I assure you, I am.” Tjaden rubbed his temples.

With a thoughtful look on its smiling face, the cat-like creature replied, “Discombobulated, maybe. Flummoxed, perhaps.”

Tjaden ignored the assessment. “Can you at least tell me where I am?”

“Whatever for? After all, it matters much less where you are than which direction you are going.” Its smile seemed to broaden even more at this.

Determined to get some guidance he asked, “Which of these is the Harbinger Spoke?”

“Is that a riddle?” Its eyes brightened. “Let me see…”

Tjaden interrupted, “No, it’s not a riddle. I just want to know which of these roads will take me northwest.”

“This road,” it answered, signaling to the right with one paw, “will take you west. And this one,” pointing left, “will take you north. So, to go northwest you simply must take both of them. Now I’m catching onto your riddles, my boy.”

“No, not really.”

“I have an idea. A perfectly wonderful idea. If you wish to go northwest simply go back the way you came, turn around, and walk toward me.”

Tjaden tried once more, “Which of these two roads will lead me to the Tumtum tree?”

After clearing its throat, it answered:

The Tumtum tree, the Tumtum tree,

King of forests, quarry’s bane.

Arrive in peace; there’ll be a feast.

And there you shall remain.

The Cheshire Cat made less sense the longer the conversation continued. Very pleased with itself it went on, “And you’d do well to remember that, lad.”

“I give up, I’ll just choose one.”

“We all make choices,” said the Cheshire Cat. “We just don’t make consequences.”

Shaking his head, Tjaden started on the northward fork.

“A fine choice, Master Tjaden,” the feline affirmed.

“And what if I would’ve gone the other direction?”

“Do you like stories? A
whatif
, a
shooduv
, a
round tuit
, and a
diddit
all started down a path much like the ones you see before you. I’m not going to say how the story ends, but even a muddled youth such as yourself should know who reached their destination first.”

Curiosity outweighing his frustration, Tjaden switched directions and started down the westward path.

Again the complimentary animal offered, “Might I once again commend you on a fine choice?”

More confused than ever, Tjaden continued west. After traveling less than a mile the road angled to the northwest and soon merged with an identical road he could only assume came from the fork where he’d seen the Cheshire Cat.

Why didn’t the fool just tell me they both led to the same place?
He answered his own question, hearing the Cheshire Cat’s voice in his head:
Why didn’t you ask?

Two and a half days later Tjaden reached the path that led to the Tumtum tree. It was easy to spot; Darieus had described it perfectly. The forest had been sparse yet evenly wooded. Within a span of fifty paces the trees along one side of the Spoke were clumped closer and closer together until there wasn’t room for a man to walk through. The thick portion only stretched a hundred paces along the Harbinger Spoke, but there was a clear path directly in the middle of it. Night was approaching and he was reluctant to enter the dark path at dusk so he made camp.

The exhaustion of four days hard travel by horseback helped him fall asleep, but the nerves from what lay ahead made it a restless sleep. By the time he woke he was not sure if he was equal to his task. Until recently he never would have considered it, but a slight fear of failure nagged at his mind. However, live or die he would do what he could to rescue Elora. The only way to conquer his doubt was to act, so he mounted and prompted the horses forward.

Almost as soon as he was on the path it became as dark as a moonless night. The canopy was tall enough for him to travel astride his horse, but just barely. Minute specks of light occasionally shone through, like sporadic stars. The path seemed straight, but in the darkness he couldn’t be sure. A slight bend would change his course considerably over the miles.

The absence of forest sounds as he traveled in tree-framed tunnel was almost palpable. There was no room for birds or animals to move around in the woods, and the thick foliage kept any wind out. The sensation was so foreign, he almost felt like he wandered through an underground cave.

Hours passed. Tjaden stopped occasionally to scrape out a hole where small streams crossed the path in order for him and the horses to drink. Sparse grass lined the edges of the trail and the horses devoured it greedily. So intent on the grass were they that it was difficult to get them to give it up. Though hunger for the thin grass led them slowly forward on the trail, the sluggish pace irked Tjaden. Only with much coaxing was he able to draw the horses away from the grass.

Into the forest he traveled, deeper and deeper like a hare in a burrow. An hour or so after the star-specks disappeared overhead he stopped to sleep.

When the sunlight poked through the canopy like stars he resumed his journey. The passing of time was impossible to track, but eventually a hazy light appeared ahead of Tjaden. It was unmistakable because no other light source existed in the dense forest. The opening was not directly ahead of him, as he expected it would be, instead it shone from behind a bend in the path. When the full light came into view he realized the path had a significant curve.

I’ve probably been walking in a tightening spiral since I started on the path.

His exhaustion faded as he pushed forward, yearning for light and freedom from the oppressive forest. Despite his desire for open sky, he entered the clearing carefully, and saw that it was mostly empty. There were no trees or other vegetation over a space of twenty paces leading up to a gigantic tree that reached higher than Tjaden could see. The Tumtum tree.

With his sword drawn he examined the rest of the clearing. In one area the ground was in upheaval, having recently been plowed in some areas but not by human hands or tools. Adjacent to the disturbed earth Tjaden saw a faint imprint of a wagon wheel with one bent spoke. A wooden stake, a strip of dark blue cloth, and a small branch lay untidily near the center.

How would anyone get a wagon in here?
The odd diagram meant nothing.

After inspecting the clearing he sheathed his sword, leaned against the tree, and pondered his task in the fading light. Thoughts flooded his mind—where he had come from, what it had taken to get here, and why he had to do what he had to do. Then he visualized the next few days—find the Jabberwocky, kill him, rescue Elora.

A faint sound, like breathing from a distance, brought him upright, listening. Slowly he drew his sword and stood ready. Time passed and the sound did not change, an uneven rush of air. He circled the entire clearing as silently as possible, but he was still alone. Twilight played games with his vision.

Looking up he noticed the tree tops swayed in tune with the sound.
The wind
, he thought with relief. The confinement of the dense innards of the forest had made him extra sensitive.

After tethering the horses just inside the path, Tjaden shouldered his pack and scaled the rough bark of the Tumtum tree to the first branch. Near the fork of the wide branch was an opening in the tree like a hole that a large squirrel would live in. Darieus’ description was perfect. Tjaden had to squeeze through the opening, but found a chamber inside the tree that was almost tall enough to stand in.