Alice slipped through the underbrush with the stealth of a professional thief. The others were several feet ahead, but she was able to keep them in her sight without herself being sighted. They weren't an easy bunch to keep track of. Bill and Ina were just as skilled as she was at going undetected. And though Ace wasn't quite up to their ability, he was a trained soldier, so he was quieter than most lanky men would be trudging through the woods.

There was a snap of a twig behind her. Pressing herself against a tree, she held her breath for several beats, waiting to see if one of the Swans Bill had assigned as her "nursemaids" had noticed her absence and come searching for her. But after a moment, it was clear no one was shadowing her, and she slipped back into stalker mode, following after the others.

Not that she thought anyone would notice she was gone. Enid and Myles had been stationed right outside of her tent, so as far as they were concerned, she would have to get past them to leave. Of course, they weren't aware of her handy little pocket watch. Perhaps they might dare to peek in on her at some point, but she had taken care to make it look as though she were sound asleep beneath a pile of blankets. She hoped their reverence for her would keep them from inspecting too closely and realizing she was nothing more than several well-placed pillows.

It irked her a little to have people watching her every move. While Bill insisted it was to keep her safe, she couldn't help but feel like a prisoner. That was the reason she had left Hearts in the first place. She didn't want to be trapped. She didn't want to be coddled. And she most certainly did not want to be told what to do.

Which is exactly why she had married Ace.

The others came into view. They were crouching behind some bushes and peering out into a clearing. Alice slowed and slipped behind a tree. Leaning forward, she tried to get a glimpse of what they were looking at.

It was a camp. A large camp, or at least larger than that of the Swans. There were a number of tents set up, as well as covered wagons. There was a fire in the center, and people were milling about, some cooking, some chatting, some even fighting. Or perhaps practicing fighting? It was hard to tell the difference from this distance.

Tart poked his head out of Alice's pocket and climbed onto her shoulder to get a better look. He squeaked a whisper of surprise at seeing so many people in the camp. Alice lifted a finger to her lips and moved to get a closer look, careful not to catch the attention of her friends who were still watching from the bushes.

A loud cheer erupted from the camp as someone new walked onto the scene. He wasn't a very large man, but he was imposing all the same. With dark hair and a scruffy beard, he gazed about the camp with a self-satisfied smile. By the way the men and women fawned over him, Alice could only imagine that this was him. The leader of the Black Swans. Her stepfather. Her mother's killer.

Dodgson Skeffington.

One glance at Ina confirmed her suspicions. Even from this distance, she could see the change in her demeanor. Her muscles stiffened, her fists clenched, and it looked as though she were holding her breath.

Yes, there was no doubt. This was the man they were seeking to overthrow.

Biting her lip, Alice watched as he paced the camp slowly, observing his minions with that smug smile. She wanted to get a closer look. This was the man that her mother had married. If she had been such an amazing person and Queen, how had she managed to be taken in by such an awful man? Was he charming? Was he devastatingly handsome? Was he some sort of a mind controller?

Her curiosity got the best of her. She slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out her pocket watch. After experimenting with it while practicing with Ina, she had discovered that she could freeze time for one minute every five minutes. She had no clue why there was such a stipulation, but most magical things had some sort of a catch. Luckily, it had been more than five minutes since she had used it to sneak out of her tent.

As soon as Tart caught sight of the timepiece, he gave a panicked squeak and dove into her smol. Alice furrowed her brow at him and hoped he wouldn't get lost in her spatially impossible bag. But she didn't have time to worry. If she couldn't find him later, she'd have Hatta help her, seeing as he created the thing.

She concentrated on the man who had peaked her interest. She only had one minute to satisfy her curiosity, so she needed to get as close as possible before employing her time manipulation. Gritting her teeth, she inched her way through the brush and into the camp.

She kept to the shadows, walking toe to heel and taking measured breaths. She wasn't too concerned with being heard, considering how rowdy the Black Swans were, but she also didn't want to be noticed by her friends. Flattening herself against a tent without actually touching the fabric, she glanced out at the camp, searching for her target.

There he was. By the fire. He was perhaps twelve paces away, maybe fifteen. If she stopped time now, she could run to him in seconds. Her finger twitched as it hovered over the key. Her eyes darted to the bushes where she knew her friends were watching. They would be furious with her for putting herself in the direct path of danger. But as her gaze strayed back to Dodgson, she couldn't resist the temptation to stare into the face of the man who had both seduced and destroyed her mother.

Without allowing herself to think about it any further, she triggered the pocket watch. Not bothering to wait for confirmation that it had worked, she dashed over to her stepfather before the watch could even tick past two seconds. She skidded to a halt in front of him, hardly registering the flames that had frozen in midair or the spittle flying from the mouth of a drunken man in the midst of a guffaw. Rather, her attention was focused on the man frozen before her.

He wasn't very tall. In fact, they were nearly the same height. He was slim, but his arms were clearly all muscle. His dark hair was peppered with gray, as were his whiskers. She was surprised to find that he had Ina's eyes. Or was it that Ina had his? However, unlike the warmth that occasionally sparked behind hers, there was a darkness in his. And not a sullen darkness, either. A crafty darkness. The type of darkness in which people schemed horrible things and whispered vicious lies.

The type of darkness that caused a cold dread to settle over Alice as she gazed into it.

Swallowing hard, she forced herself to break away from his still stare and examine the rest of him. There wasn't much else that stood out about him as her eyes scanned him from nose to knees. But then her gaze tripped over something on his neck. It was hidden slightly by his shoulder-length hair. She brushed away his locks—surprised at how soft they were—and found a scar. Or she thought it was a scar. A tattoo, maybe? She squinted and realized that it was the face of a clock. For a scar or tattoo or whatever it was, it was very intricate. It looked very much like one of the faces of the End of Days Clock Tower. It couldn't be a tattoo. It almost looked like it had been burnt on. But how? She ran a finger over it and cocked her head curiously when she saw that the hands were set very near to midnight. Or noon? It was impossible to tell for certain, but midnight seemed more dramatic.

And then the minute hand moved.

Alice drew back with a gasp. Had that been in her head? Was she seeing things? How could it have moved? It was a tattoo. Or scar. Or whatever. And besides that, she had frozen time. So how could anything but her be moving right now?

Remembering her watch, she pulled it out and realized she only had five seconds before the world started again. Stuffing the watch back into her pocket, she turned on her heel and ran with all her might back into the forest. She wasn't sure in which direction she had gone, and she hoped she wasn't headed right for her friends.

The sounds of laughter and the crackling of the fire returned, but Alice didn't dare look back. She continued to run as soundlessly as she could, waiting to gather her bearings once she was a good distance away. But that mark on Dodgson's neck kept flashing in her mind. The way the hand had moved one minute closer to midnight. Had it really happened? Was the stress of her supposed destiny getting to her? Was she losing her mind?

In fact, she was losing her footing, and before she knew what had happened, she was falling down a dark and dirty hole.