Beatrice DuPont was standing in a smoke shop. “Are you going to explain everything to us now?”

“Who are you?” the little wizard asked again.

“What’s going on, Kel?” Mad Hat demanded.

“I’m getting out of here!” He replied.

“I can appreciate that,” Beatrice huffed.

“But how, Kel?” Mad Hat pressed.

“With… this…” the wizard tugged a large object out from behind an even larger bookcase.

“A mirror? How is that supposed to get me home?” Beatrice questioned doubtfully.

“Home?” the man squinted up at her. “You!” his eyes widened. “Queenie!”

“Me? No, I’m-”

“She’s no one, Kel, but you need to help her get back to where she came from,” Mad Hat insisted.

“Oh, I know where she came from! She’s part of the plan!” the wizard shook his finger.

“Whoa, part of what plan?” Beatrice took a step back.

“You mean the Prince’s plan?” Mad Hat frowned.

“She’s the link,” the wizard explained without explaining.

“She’s the link?”

“Is there an echo in here?” The wizard looked back at Beatrice “You’re the spittin’ image, you are.”

“Of who?” Beatrice demanded.

“Queenie!”

“Just what does that have to do with anything?” Mad Hat frowned deeply.

“He’s looking for her! He needs you.” The wizard was pointing up at Beatrice.

“For what!?” She was becoming increasingly frustrated. “Never mind, I don’t care. Can you get me back to my world or not?”

“Sure, if that’s what you really want.”

“Oh, it is!” she confirmed. “However I can wake up from whatever this is, I’m in.”

“Then just step through this glass here.” He tapped on the face of the mirror. “Hmm… it’s a bit spotty, this one. The other he took is much better.”

“There’s another mirror?” Mad Hat had a thoughtful look.

“Of course! All good things come in pairs, don’t they?”

“And the Prince has the other one?”

“The good one, I’m afraid.” Kel began to bustle around the office collecting things into his pouch. “Would you like some tea?”

“Is that how he got into my world, and dragged me back here? The son of a bi...!” Beatrice growled.

“Where’s my chalk?” the wizard demanded suddenly.

“Oh, I have it," Beatrice confessed.

“You have my chalk! Why do you have my chalk!? What else of mine do you have? Give it up you thief!” The man had drawn himself up to his full respectable height of three feet and one inch and was glaring at her with an open hand.

“Uhh…” Beatrice emptied her pockets of the chalk and mushrooms she had swiped. They were snatched out of her hands. “…and this…”

The wizard peered at the last item she held out to him.

“Sorry…” she mumbled.

  “Keep it. It’s just a thimble.”

“This isn’t a thimble.” It was a small green cube that looked like sand polished glass.

“A trinket then – I don’t want it. Well, hurry along!” Without further warning or preface he stepped through the pane of reflective glass as if it wasn’t even there.

“Oh! But I’m – !” Beatrice looked down at her costume and over at her chaperone. “You don’t suppose I have time to change, do you?”

Mad Hat shook his head with amusement. “Not by the looks of it. Not if you want to keep up with him, anyway.”

“Yeah... Well, bye then, I guess. It’s been “real”!”

“Bye.”

“Uh, thanks for the help...”

“Do you trust me now?”

“Ha! I grew up on Stranger-Danger. I’m in no rush to trust someone I just met.” Beatrice turned and with a deep breath stepped into the mirror.

Prince Jacques paced the length of the antechamber to the Grand Hall. A deep frown was on his face, perfect hair on his head like a wig.

“Where could she have disappeared to!?” he exclaimed in frustration.

“We searched the Other Side, but found no sign of her,” a henchman said.

“And we’ve scoured This Side and found no sign of her either,” another henchman added.

“She could not have just vanished. She must be somewhere!” The Prince turned sharply to face his men. “Have you checked the Wabe? If she got lost she might have turned up there.”

“No, Sir. Dead or alive she hasn’t turned up there either,” answered the second henchman.

“Well, if she’s dead she’d’ve turned up there, so she must be alive if she’s not,” amended the first henchman.

“She’d better still be alive,” grumbled the Prince. “I’ve invested too much in this endeavor for it to go wrong now.” He looked up and addressed his men again. “Grenouil – seek out Madame Mouton. Tell her to search her rushes for the girl. Cabillaud, track down the carpenter. Now that silly little man is gone too, and time is running short. We must find her!”

The two men bowed and then rushed out to do the Prince’s bidding.

“I must have a Queen…” the Prince muttered to himself. “I will be King of the Worlds!”