wanderamaranth | Possible Side Effects, Ch. 22 (Reply)

Summary: Jabberwocky blood is valuable, but has a short shelf life. Then, there are the possible side effects...

Rating: T

WARNINGS: This chapter contains violence. I almost upped the rating of the story for this chappie, actually, but in the end just cut out some of the more colorful descriptions of violent behavior. Still thought there might be enough to post a warning, though, just in case.

"Secure the door!"

Two of Iracebeth's minions rushed to the Hall entrance and placed a long bolt between the handles, effectively locking it from the inside. She watched with satisfaction before turning her attention back to her rival.

"What's the matter, sister? No brave words? No final speech?" Iracebeth stalked down the aisle way, pistol unwavering. "Aren't you going to tell me we don't have to fight?" she mocked. The former Red Queen walked until she was just short of the dais. The courtiers she'd managed to sway (by either promises or threats) spread themselves through the room, taking up positions among the other nobles.

Those loyal to Mirana carefully sat down upon the ground at their counterpart's urging, themselves being staunch tenants to what the White Queen's Court had come to stand for: non-violence and peaceful resolution, or, lacking that possibility, dying with dignity (in their opinion) by not raising a hand to defend themselves.

Sweat prickled along the White Queen's skin, almost immediately crystallizing as soon as it appeared. The sunlight filtering through the windows made her seem to be a glowing creature with the way it caught the ice and making it sparkle. A few of those nobles whom had been the hardest to convince of Iracebeth's plan looked very nervous at Mirana appearing so; the rest staunchly ignored it.

"I will not fight you, Racie." Mirana said, blinking her large eyes.

Iracebeth depressed a latch on the side of her pistol, and the longer of the two knives snapped free. Mirana jerked at the appearance of the blade, but stood her ground.

"No, I didn't suspect you would."

The blue heart painted on her lips looked garish, a very small part of Mirana's mind couldn't help but note, and the uncharitable thought quirked her lips into a very faint smile. She allowed the smile to grow, until it was quite large indeed, but still more sad and grave than any smile ever should be. I hope Alice and Tarrant are able to find each other again. Maybe they can live Above. It would be safer for them, there, with Iracebeth ruling Underland once more. Even as she thought it, though, Mirana knew it was a vain hope; Hatter would never give up his homeland, no matter the dangers staying brought, and she suspected where he stayed, Alice would as well.

A loud thud reverberated against the Hall doors, and Iracebeth's minions looked to it anxiously. Although their leader may have a good chance of regaining the Crown, she would only do so if she was did not waste the small window of opportunity they had gained her by grandstanding.

"Bout time you got here!"

"Shut up!" Six shrill voices chorused together, causing Alice to try to cover her ears, forgetting once again that one arm was bound against her side. Pain radiated outward, and she used a choice words to express her agitation.

Stunned silence met this outburst, followed by a tentative. "Oh, my. Are we certain this is our young lady?"

"She's the right one! I'm certain of it!" a more male sounding, (from what she could tell; the voices were quite harsh) authoritative tone rang out.

"What is it about this Room that causes everyone within it to question whither or not I'm the right Alice?" the blonde asked crossly, searching for the speakers. "And it is very rude to speak of someone as if they can't hear you. Step out!"

More silence greeted this command.

"You might as well come out, Deagmond." Chessur called, swimming into the Room. The Door in the Tree slammed shut behind him, then dissipated as if it had never existed. "She's heard you now. Alice is the sort that will only become more determinedly curious should a question remain unanswered."

"Thank you, Chessur!" the blonde beamed, only to have her face fall when the Cat dryly corrected her.

"That was not a compliment."

Alice was saved from having to come up with a suitable reply to such a statement by seven small, dark blobs coming forward out of the darkened corners (and how a Round Room managed to have corners, Alice wasn't certain, but she wasn't about to say it was impossible!) and coming to rest directly in front of her in a long line.

"Cat." the bird in the center said, inclining his beak towards Chessur. He wore a smart little waistcoat, with a long scarf (which would have been nothing more than a hair ribbon for Alice) wrapped around his neck, and a spyglass (that seemed to have muffled noises coming from it that sounded suspiciously like speech) sat at his side. "Alice." he nodded to her as well.

"Erm…hello." she said, smiling awkwardly. "You seem to know my name, but I don't have the same advantage. Whom might you be?"

"They are the Magpies of the Bridge. That stuffy one in the center is Deagmond." the Cheshire Cat answered before the Bird himself could open his beak, which earned him a reproachful glare, but nothing more.

"It was our responsibility," another Magpie stepped forward, (this one sporting a frilled pink lace collar) manner contrite, "to watch over you and your lover when you were on our Bridge. When he attempted to bring you over to him…" here the Magpies all shuffled nervously, and Alice could have sworn there was an embarrassed undercurrent to their movements, "we were to assist the Cat in ensuring that you were united. We did not, and that allowed you to be taken by the Jabberwock." Hopping forward, the Magpie said, "We will not leave your side now until you are reunited with he whom you should never have been parted from."

"Am I to understand that you…watched us, the entire time? Every timewe were Somewhere Else?"

More embarrassed shuffling followed, confirming Alice's suspicions.

"It was only for your own good!" Deagmond put in. "Safety and such."

"That was…very kind of you." Alice began, (for she could think of nothing else to say that would not be terribly insulting, and they did seem genuine in their concern, so she had no real desire to be cutting) "but you see, Chessur here is leading me towards my…towards the Hatter, right now. So I won't be needing you, if it's all the same."

"It is not all the same!" yet another Bird stepped forward. "We've been all over Underland and Creation looking for you! I will have you know that Creation is a very unpleasant place for Birds such as ourselves! Now that we've found you, we are Bound to stay by your side until our Task is complete." He bowed, very formally. "We continue to be remiss in our introductions, I see." A glare was sent towards the couple to his side. "I am Bifrost." He then proceeded to rattle off the names of the other Magpies, and Alice made sure to properly curtsey to each one.

"When you say that you are Bound to me," Alice inquired, "does that mean you can not leave my side, or you do not wish to?"

"Take your pick!" Bifrost exclaimed. "Either way, we're not leaving you, young lady, so you'd best resign yourself to our presence. I daresay you might find us useful on your journey!"

"Actually," Chessur drawled, "we're only going through that Door there, and then right up to the Castle. Not much of a journey."

The Magpies all exchanged glances. "Just the same, we'll see this until it's through."

"Let's not waste any more Time then, shall we?" Alice said. "It was this door, you said, Chessur puss?"

The Magpies all snickered at Alice's nickname for the Cat, but he just grinned wider, making sure to show all of his impressive teeth. They quieted quickly.

The young woman didn't wait for the Cat's reply. She opened the Door and was greeted with a wide foyer, the end of at which sat another Door. Once that one was opened, the checkered lawn and white spires of Marmoreal beckoned in the not-so-far-off distance.

"Oh, finally!" she cried, hurrying through. "I almost started to think I'd never get here!"

"Queen Alice?"

She turned at the sound of the familiar voice, tripping slightly on her own heels. Stayne, their two horses, Snellum, and a Chess piece were standing just off to the side of the Door, all staring at her with equal expressions of amazement, (although Stayne and Snellum appeared relieved as well). Five Rooks flanked them, spears drawn.

"Snellum!" she said, hurrying over as the rest of the Round Room's occupants spilled out to the grass. "And Stayne! You're here!"

Alice never thought there would be a day that she'd be pleased to see the former Knave of Hearts, but she found that she was, very much so indeed.

"Yes, well, our happy reunion will have to wait, your Majesty." Stayne said, silently preening at the amount of contentment in his Queen's expression upon seeing him, but ever-conscious of his repute. "These Rooks seem to be under the impression that I am a Banished creature, you know, and are not very keen on our advancement to Marmoreal."

"Champion!" A Rook stepped forward, lowering his spear to speak with her. "Is what this Knave and the Pawn that travels with him True? Is he here under your Command?"

The Pawn remained silent, and Alice found herself wishing that the Chess Pieces of Mirana's Army had expression to their faces-she would have liked to have known what he was thinking at that moment.

"Did you ask him?" she asked, gesturing to Geoffrey. "He is a White Pawn, after all, and seems be unharmed while traveling in the Knave's company."

Silence greeted her inquiry, and Alice imagined that if the Rook had been able to show expression, he would have been staring at her incredulously.

Stayne held his breath during this short exchange (Even though the young woman he'd gotten to know over their few days of travel did not seem to be the sort to turn on him, one could never really tell with these sorts of things) only releasing it when Alice finally answered him.

Sighing, she said, "It is true. We were riding for Marmoreal to warn the White Queen of an imminent danger to the Crown."

"Danger, you say?" the Rook pulled himself upright. "To the Crown? Stand down, soldiers, the Knave rides with us now! The Champion-General has returned, and confirms his ascertation!"

The other Rooks stood at attention, spears at the side rather than pointed at the Knave. (Which was an improvement, but still not quite the reaction they needed from them.)

"Well, what are you waiting for? Move!" Stayne barked, and the Rooks scrambled to obey him.

"I'm just going to go on ahead." Chessur said demurely, eyeing the menagerie now accompanying Alice with distaste. "Make sure this doesn't happen again, that sort of thing." With that vague reassurance, he was gone in a wisp of smoke.

"Just as well." Snellum sniffed, jumping from Parick's head to Alice's shoulder. "Can't say I care for Cats, anyways."

Unfortunately for the Mouse's nerves, Chessur's face reappeared almost immediately, directly by the ear on the same shoulder he was riding on. With a dismayed squeak, Snellum scrambled down, resting instead in the crook of Alice's sling.

"You need to make haste for the Castle." he said, teeth pulled back in a grimace. "Hurry!"

"Chessur, what-" Alice began, but the Cat puffed fully into being in front of her face, silencing the half-formed question.

"It is now!" the Cheshire Cat said, "The Red Queen is attacking right now!"

"I'm sure we'll hear from Chessur soon, Hatta." the Dormouse said reassuringly. She was promptly Ignored by her companion, but it was nothing less than what was expected.

Mally fussed with several items atop the vanity in what Tarrant stubbornly referred to as "Alice's Room", despite the fact that she'd only spent two nights there as a guest. Any attempts by Mirana's staff to do anything to the room: strip the bedding, take away the dirty nightclothes, or even straighten up the items on the nightstand, caused the Hatter to fly into a blind rage. (They only attempted such activities twice, in the short while since the Frabjous Day-many of the staff grumbled that they should have just done it when the Mad man was pouting at Windmill House, but they'd been too involved in feasting and such at the time to bother, and when they were finally ready to clean the room, the Hatter was back at Marmoreal, just across the way from 'Alice's room', and ridiculously protective of the soiled laundry and rumpled bedclothes.)

They'd adjourned to Alice's room following the White Queen's departure for Hall, and the Hatter had spent that time restlessly walking from item to item, randomly picking them up, inspecting them, then putting it back exactly as he found them. He was just about prepared to lift Alice's nightdress from where it was draped across the bed (and he'd never been so daring as to do anything like that, not in any of the many, many times he'd been in the room!) when Mally spoke again.

"D'ye see that?" Mallymkun called, scurrying out onto the balcony. "Looks like we have company coming!"

The Hatter was suddenly just there, beside her. Never, in any of the years she had known him, could she recall him moving so fast. If there was any room in her emotions to be melancholy, she might have been at such an obvious showing of attachment to another, but she was too full up of expectation and joy to fit any negative emotions in. "It's she." he whispered, eyes blazing as he strained to see the party in the distance, and he caught a flash of blonde hair.

"It's she!" he said again, this time in a shout. "My Alice has returned! Oh, Mally, were it not a horridly self-centered statement, I'd say this day is better than the Frabjous Day, for this is the day my bonnie lad has chosen to return to me!"

Looking back, he saw the disarray of her rooms, seemingly for the first time. His hands fluttered about, expressing his dismay. "Oh, this won't do at all! Why no one's been in to care for her room, I'll never imagine! Come, come, Mally! We must tidy up before Alice arrives! This is not acceptable lodging for she, no, not at all!"

Manically he began fluffing the pillows upon her bed, muttering about how much there was to do and the general laziness of Mirana's staff. He gave off doing this almost immediately, and rushed across the hall to his own rooms. Throwing open the wardrobe, he rapidly belted his kilt over top his trousers, and was in the process of removing those and his jacket at the same time when the Cheshire Cat appeared before him, fur standing on end in agitation.

"Tarrant!"

"No Time, Chessur, no Time! Alice is on her way! I must look my best!"

"There is more happening than your bizarre courtship ritual, Tarrant!" the Cat snapped, and that was so unusual for his erstwhile friend that the Hatter paused, mouth slightly open, to stare at the floating feline.

"Get your sword. Bluddy Behg Hid is in Hall, preparing to kill Mirana-and Alice is headed right towards them!"

The remains of the Hatter's pants were shucked off and the claymore in his hand within a few ticks of Time's seconds. His eyes blazed with focus. "Get me there unseen." he demanded, arm outstretched. Without a word, the Cat landed on it, and soon both were nothing more than a faint phosphorescent outline. Together they strode towards the Great Hall.

Mally, who had arrived to Tarrant's room just after he and Chessur became invisible, turned about in circles, looking for her friend. "Hatta?" she called. "Hatta!" Running a small paw down her face, she grumbled, "Where could that man have gotten off to?"

"There is a servant's entrance directly behind the Throne," the Cheshire Cat had informed Alice's party, before evaporating back to the castle to 'muster more assistance', as he put it. "You should be able to enter there. I doubt she of Crims considered such a thing when forming her plan."

The Cat had been correct, of course. Alice and Stayne crouched behind the politely hidden door, able to see Iracebeth trail a short blade underneath her sister's chin, chuckling softly. "Are the Magpies in place?" Alice whispered.

Stayne hummed an affirmative. "They're in the rafters, keeping an eye on the courtiers."

"Snellum as well?"

"Yes, Snellum is watching for our reinforcements." Stayne hissed at her. "And the Rooks already went to gather more soliders, and that evaporating Cat is doing gathering who-knows-what. (Although Stayne had a sinking suspicion that at least one of the Cat's 'helpful acquisitions' would be a ginger in a dilapidated top-hat.) Soon this room will be surrounded. There will be no escape for Iracebeth or any who chose to follow her."

"Well then what are we waiting for?" Alice rocked forward on her heels, intent on charging the room.

"We can't simply blunder about the room!" Stayne told Alice, holding her back by her good arm. "If we burst in now, Iracebeth will certainly cut Mirana's throat, and her people will not hesitate to slay you as well! There will be no one to oppose her new Reign, should that happen. A Queen born or Chosen by Underland is the only one that can wear the High Crown! I will not risk you, Majesty."

Stayne was surprised by himself once again. (It seemed that being in Alice's company caused such a reaction in the otherwise predictable Knave.) He was primarily concerned with Alice not getting herself killed before she officially lifted his Banishment, it was true, and he would think it a shame if such a beautiful creature were struck down by someone as unattractive as Iracebeth, but what actually forced that sentence past his throat was a foreign (but getting increasingly familiar) sense of concern for one other than himself.

"No!" Alice shook his hand away. "I can not allow the Red Queen to kill her, Stayne!"

As they argued, a gasp shook the Hall beyond them, followed by Iracebeth's low, triumphant laughter.

"No…" Alice's attention snapped back to the Queens, already knowing the only thing that laughter could mean.

The sound of someone (or several someones, it could have been, from the amount of force being exerted) attempting to enter the Hall kept shaking the Doors.

"It sounds as though someone else wishes to join our party, sister." Iracebeth sing-songed, with a backwards glance at the rattle. "Unfortunately, this is a private affair." She struck quickly. The knife slashed across Mirana's unblemished neck, breaking the skin easier than splitting squim berries for tarts. Blue blood gushed outward, drenching the steps leading up to the dais, running down her white dress. The White Queen gave a great, rattling breath of disbelief, her hands fluttering weakly towards the wound, before crumpling to the ground.

Iracebeth could hardly believe it herself. All these years, all this time of constantly living under the shadow of her little sister, and the solution had been this simple! Why, if she had known how liberated she would feel with the action, she would have done this long ago!

A brief scuffle behind the throne intruded upon the shocked silence and pained, burbling breaths coming from Mirana. The Knave tumbled out from a hidden doorway behind the Throne, causing every loyal noble that had been entertaining the vague hope that they may live through the evening (if they were very, very cautious) to give it up. Stayne was not known for his mercy; rather the opposite actually. His reputation had been built on his unflinching execution of every order Iracebeth had ever given him.

"Iracebeth." he greeted her, pulling himself up to his full height and vainly straightening his clothing, as he looked like he'd been through a struggle. "I thought we agreed you were to wait for me." He shut the door behind him firmly, and every occupant in the Hall could hear the bellow of anger come from behind it at this action. Iracebeth, being too absorbed with the return of her way-ward Knave, didn't concern herself with the servant's entrance once he began to walk away from it.

"Stayne." the large-headed woman purred. "You did make it after all."

The servant's door bounced open once again, and a small figure darted out, moving rapidly for the former Red Queen. Sneering at the blonde curls rushing towards her from behind the Knave, Iracebeth snarled, "It's a shame you had to bring such poor company."

"Alice!" Stayne sputtered.

"If you really wanted to keep me out you should have turned the lock." she said pointedly over her shoulder (as Stayne was now behind her) and then all of her focus went to the Iracebeth.

Alice's blue eyes fairly glinted with rage; she very carefully did not look at the growing slick of blood on the steps as she advanced. (She knew if she did, then her grief for the kind Queen and the anger she felt at herself-she was always late, and in this case, it was too late!-would freeze her movements, and she would lose her opportunity.) When she was close enough, she leapt upon Iracebeth, sending them both sprawling to the ground.

Their bodies landed in an inelegant heap, (as Alice realized at the last moment that, yes, her arm was still broken, and perhaps leaping off of steps onto an opponent to knock them to a hard floor was not the best idea) the pistol skittering across the marble floor and under a window tapestry. Iracebeth's silver-white skirts were more than voluminous enough for both women's limbs to become entangled in them.

All in the Hall stood still, shocked to see the White Queen's Champion and the former Red Queen tussle about like common street thugs. (Except, it must be said, for Stayne, who, after a brief but very communicative glance backwards towards Geoffrey, who materialized from the same door he and Alice had used, was simply enjoying the sight of two women rolling about together.)

Alice was able to swipe her nails across Iracebeth's face with her good arm, leaving none-too-shallow gashes across her cheek, but was then dislodged from her advantageous position on top by Iracebeth striking back with a vicious head butt. (This had a greater affect than it would have for a normal woman simply by virtue of her head's enormous size.)

Iracebeth used her reprieve from Alice's attack to scramble to her feet. Panting, she flicked her eyes to the Knave. "Kill her!" she demanded.

"No." Stayne smiled.

The shock on Iracebeth's face can not be understated. While she had known that Stayne's loyalties were perhaps not what they should be, he was Bound to her, a Mistress in the Art of Dominion Over Living Things. She ordered, and he Obeyed, and there was nothing more to it, despite however else the dreadful male might want it to be.

"As per usual, Iracebeth, your impatience and incompetence will be your downfall." the Knave walked forward, skirting the pooled blue blood with an expression of distaste. "Firstly…do you notice anything that is perhaps missing from where it should be?"

As soon as it was pointed out to her, Iracebeth did notice. "Mirana?" she called out, as if expecting the sister who's throat she'd just cut to answer her. The spot where her still-bleeding body should have been was empty. A smeared blue trail disappeared behind a small door behind the Throne. If she'd taken the time to wonder why her newly bought co-conspirators had been so silent when Mirana was taken from the Hall she would have seen a motley collection of animals (mostly Magpies, but they were able to find a few Mice and other Birds on their mad rush to the castle that were willing to help the benevolent Queen Mirana) forcing their silence with tiny weapons and warning glares.

Smirking fully now, Stayne peeled his gloves from his hands, and gave a wink to an Alice that had just found her feet before turning his attention fully back to Iracebeth. "You didn't cut the Queen properly, you incompetent cow. A tight bandage and an hour in her kitchen will be all that is needed to mend the damage."

Another booming rattle shook the Hall doors, and Stayne practically stood up on his tip-toes in his glee. "Do you hear that, my Lady? That is the White Army, come to rescue their Queen. What do you think of your chances for leniency when the one Sworn to do no Harm is not present to order it?"

In Stayne triumph, Alice's confusion, and the animals preoccupation, however, they had all as well as forgotten about the knife pistol that had been used in such deadly earnest not moments before. Iracebeth backed away from the Knave and Alice slowly, shaking her head in denial, yet inching ever-closer to where the weapon had come to rest under the tapestry.

"I order you to kill Alice, Stayne! As my Chatelain, you are Bound to Obey my orders!"

"No." Stayne said again. "The Oath that you pressed upon me has been superseded by a new Binding, she of Crims." Alice grunted softly in surprise (for she hadn't known that he was forced into Iracebeth's service at one time like all of her other creatures, but she supposed upon the knowing that it did make sense) but kept quiet.

"This new Oath was witnessed by Underland herself." the Knave continued, well-pleased with the admiring (and in the case of the former Red Queen, horrified) gasps that met this announcement. "You have not the power to command me any longer."

Iracebeth's already huge brown eyes nearly popped out of her head at his next statement, they grew so large.

"What Orders do you have for me, my Queen Alice?"

The Knave is quite the showman, Alice thought. It is no wonder that he was often the center of Court politics. "I would like someone to unbar the door." she said. "It sounds as though our reinforcements are here." (For indeed the Door was still rattling away-whomever was on the opposite side was determined, indeed.) "As for…" Alice floundered for a moment, unsure of what to call Iracebeth (for she was no longer a Queen, so the only name she had ever called her-Majesty-wouldn't do at all!) before finally settling for, "her. Arrest her, please. Should she survive, it should be the White Queen who decides her fate."

Stayne moved forward, an almost boyish grin upon his face. "I would be pleased to fulfill your request, Queen Alice." The young woman wondered if perhaps he was enjoying using that title as a verbal knife to twist into his former Queen, but then decided she didn't really care when she looked down and saw the sheer amount of blue blood decorating the Hall floor.

Two of the stouter loyal courtiers lifted the bar away from the Door, and instead of the Chess pieces that were expected on the other side, a black-eyed Hatter stood there, claymore naked in his hand. The Cheshire Cat rolled upon the ground at his feet, looking inordinately pleased with himself.

"Oh, good. The coup's already been dealt with. See, I told you, Tarrant, there was nothing to worry about. Your Alice can be quite competent."

"Alice." the Hatter breathed, the black ringing his eyes melting away. The sword fell from his hands, and then he was striding-no, galumphing-across the room to her. She had her back to him, watching as the Knave advanced upon his former Queen. The next few moments passed in a blur of motion, Time tricking him into thinking it all occurred within one second instead of the several it must have surely taken. Iracebeth backed herself completely into the wall, seemingly cowering before the large Knave.

"Ilosovic, please…" she'd whimpered, and the man had simply grinned at her in a manner that showed no compassion nor mercy. A hard glint entered the Big Head's eyes then, one that the Hatter recognized most easily, one that could only mean…

He didn't pause to pick his sword back up; there was no time for that! Tarrant ran across the room, kilt a blur of motion about his hips, knowing, knowing, even as he did so, that time would not allow him to reach her side before that which would be one of the most horrible events he would ever experience could occur.

The Red Queen moved quickly after seeing that stare of no mercy in the Knave's eyes, snatching up the knife pistol from it's half-obscured spot in the draperies. She raised her singular whole arm, her grip upon the handle and trigger steady. The Knave abruptly stopped his advance, but Iracebeth had another target in mind rather than her former lover.

Alice had a single moment to stare down the barrel of the pistol as the former Queen whipped it towards her decisively, not much more than a long blink of her eyes. Everything appeared to Alice to have extreme detail and crystal clarity; she could see how Iracebeth's hand upon the handle was slightly chapped, the raggedness of the nail beds that a few days within the comfort of Marmoreal's walls had not been able to heal. She looked beyond the barrel and saw the Madness seething in eyes of the woman holding the weapon, and knew that her death lurked there.

"NO! Alice!" Many voices cried her name out all together. Her own eyes widened as she believed she heard the Hatter's burr among them, but of course, by then, it was already too late.

The next few moments Alice would only ever be able to recall in snatches. There had been a roaring bang immediately following the warning shouts, then a sharp, blooming pain ripped through her. Looking down, she saw a small red dot appear on her already-stained-beyond-repair duster, which grew rapidly in size at the same time a curious wet warmth covered her abdomen. "O-oh…" she stuttered, the hand on her unbroken arm fluttering about her lower stomach.

"This feels so…strange." She stuck a finger in the center of the red stain, vision fading a bit as the truth of what happened fully occurred to her. The last she could clearly recall after that was the Hatter, (and it was his voice! She hadn't misheard!) screaming her name in heart-rending agony. The bitter feeling that she had just failed the man she loved (loved! She loved the Hatter-whyohwhy could she not have realized it before that moment, that moment of now-too-late?) in the most permanent of ways overwhelmed her, and then there was the blank quiet of nothingness.

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