Prince Jacques was beside himself. Figuratively and literally.

 

“How could she get away?!” he raged at the reflective glass. “You said you found her!”

 

“Found her, and lost her, Your Majesty,” answered a uniformed guard.

 

Prince Jacques whipped around. “Yes! I understand that! My question is how is that possible?”

 

“She ran faster?” The Prince glared and the guard thought again. “She ran farther?”

 

“She ran smarter, that’s for sure!”

 

“I ran as smartly as I could,” the guard defended.

 

“I’m sure you did - that’s the problem!” Prince Jacques sank down onto his throne which was place at the center of a large platform overlooking the Grand Hall where activity was still a flutter. “Is there really someone helping her? Or is she really this lucky? This wasn’t supposed to be this hard!”

 

“Our orders, Your Majesty?”

 

“Find someone smarter and have them chase after her,” the Prince said dismissively.

 

“And who would that be?” the guard sought to clarify.

 

The Prince sighed deeply. “I’m not sure anymore. I thought Chapeau and Annette would be plenty, however I haven’t heard anything from them since I sent them off… Are they all in cahoots?”

 

“So, then what do we -”

 

“Fetch Mr. Doe! Perhaps he’ll know what to do.” He waved the guard off and fixed his hair, which had fallen ever so slightly out of place.

  

 

Beatrice DuPont and Madoc Chapeau blinked rapidly as their irises adjusted to the change in brightness. They had popped out on the other side of the fairgrounds.

 

“Let’s keep moving,” Mat Hat instructed.

 

Once the were away from the carnival altogether, a light snow began to drift down from the muted sky. Madoc pulled his coat from his hat and wrapped it around Beatrice’s shoulders. She opened her mouth to protest, but all that came out was a surprised and somewhat panicked sound. Without any warning, she had been completely swept up and had sailed several yards ahead. Madoc made to shout after her, but he too was lifted up and set down again beside her.

 

“What was that?!” Beatrice exclaimed.

 

“A volcano, I suppose.”

 

“A volcano!?”

 

“What’s a volcano?”

 

“But you just said-”

 

“Never mind, here we are.”

 

“Where?” Beatrice turned around to where Mad Hat was looking and saw an enormous darkness spread out before them like an impenetrable wall, even more expansive and ominous than the labyrinth had been. “What…?”

 

“It’s The Obscurity.”

 

Curiously, Beatrice held out a hand and was startled to find that it completely disappeared the moment she placed it past the boundary line of the dark mass. She withdrew her appendage quickly and was relieved to find it still attached to her arm, as it ought to be.

 

“We have to go through it,” Mad Hat said firmly.

 

“Of course we do,” she muttered.

 

Madoc took something else out of his hat before he grabbed Beatrice’s hand with his and held tight. “Don’t let go,” he warned gravely and she nodded solemnly. With a deep breath he crossed the event horizon and Beatrice saw him disappear before her, along with her arm, though she could still feel his hand around hers. She slowly stepped forward until the rest of her was also engulfed by the dark.

 

Beatrice stared ahead at a tiny glowing bobble that hung before her. That was the only thing she could see. She tried to lift her free hand before her eyes, but even with the dim source of light it was as if her hand did not exist at all. She could feel it, but without any visual confirmation she began to doubt it was really there.

 

“Hat?” she called out uncertainly and she felt him squeeze her other hand.

 

“I’m here.”

 

“I can’t see anything.”

 

“That’s because they’re nothing to see.”

 

She felt a pull as he led her forward. She could feel the ground under her feet but she could not hear her footsteps. She inhaled but could not feel her breath. She tried to speak again but found she could not. Or perhaps she could, but the sound didn’t reach her ears. She started to panic but Mad Hat squeezed her hand again and kept her moving forward.

 

It felt like an hour had passed, and then another. Soon it seemed to Beatrice that a months, years, and a lifetime had gone by and she was sure that she had turned into an old woman. She tried to feel how long her hair must have grown throughout the decades, but her hair was not there. She tried to feel the wrinkles of her face, but her face was not there. She even tried to blink, but found she could not. The light she followed and the faint pressure on her hand was all that was.

 

Another lifetime went by and Beatrice still trudged on, defeated by the oppressive darkness; the suffocating depression of being, yet not being. A deathly acceptance was settling in when the dim light began to dim further.

 

In a wave of dread, Beatrice began to run. For fear of losing the light, the one thing she knew to be real, she ran as fast as she could, and then she ran faster. She didn’t need breath or rest, all she needed was that light and she ran and ran to keep up, yet it was still getting away. Desperately, she propelled herself forward, but the light disappeared forever.