The mossy ladder was difficult to climb but it was no longer a dilemma for the queens. Having their arms bound behind their backs, they were hoisted up on a wooden board by a pulley to the above-head civilization only their imaginations could comprehend. The red queen had been complaining all the time they were captured and she was the only one making a fuss about her captors but even her noisy mouth was silenced when she witnessed the utopia camouflaged within the leaves.

Tens of houses—no—hundreds stretched as far as the curtain of leaves allowed and behind those covers lay more. The shanties looked frail but were much sturdier having it accommodated heavy-looking residents without breaking. Each treehouse had its own area and was connected by bridges of planks and wires made of thick vines.

Few children played about, halting to spare a frightful gaze at the captured prisoners before scurrying away back to their homes. Despite having a massive area, the safe haven seemed… empty.

The queens walked in a line—Iracebeth behind Mirana—and the red queen couldn’t help but ask, “Don’t you think they overdid this little town? The houses outnumber its residents.”

Mirana swallowed and didn’t seem to have the intention of replying to her sister. A feeling of guilt corrupted inside her throat rendering her from telling the answer to her sister. However one of their captors seemed to have overheard Iracebeth’s question and answered it himself.

“The houses were just enough actually,” the captor that walked behind Iracebeth answered, “Rather it’s the opposite of what you said. Our population outnumbered the houses.”

Iracebeth looked over her shoulder and thought for a while. “One of your comrades mentioned that some of his friends were executed… could that have been what reduced your number?”

The captor gave out a wry laughter. “Compared to your sister’s plans, your executions are just puny things.”

“I don’t understand…” Iracebeth looked to Mirana.

The white queen had her eyes closed but kept on walking, head held up high.

The captor began. “We started out as a small group in the clockwork town. Primarily, we all wanted to get back up there,” he pointed his eyes to the heavens then continued, “But no way in hell could that be possible so we settled with something much more achievable—life without Alice’s control. We had a small party that fled to these swamps and every now and then we invade the town to rescue more folks to take with us until we had our own colony.” The captor spat heights and ran his hand in the air, presenting the shanties which were now empty. “We kept on growing and was satisfied with our way of living until…” he trailed off and looked at the white queen.

Iracebeth asked to continue, “Until what?”

“Until I showed up,” Mirana broke her silence. She had enough.

The captor spat again. “It was because of the white queen that we were almost wiped out.”

“Sister, is this true?” Iracebeth asked.

Mirana nodded. “I saw a chance of freedom.” Mirana explained, “And I wanted to use that chance for all of us.”

Iracebeth opened her mouth to speak but was intercepted by the captor.

“And where did that lead us to?” the captor asked. “Most of us died. Some that survived were taken in and experimented on.”

Mirana stopped walking and Iracebeth almost bumped into her. She faced the captor. “But we succeeded in taking one of her labs. I have my best inventors there right now and they will use the resources to supply us in the upcoming war.”

The captor grabbed Mirana by the shoulder and turned her in front, pushing her to walk forward. “Tell that to the chief if he’d still let you live after what you pulled on your previous offer.”

They arrived at the biggest building and the guards that surrounded the queens remained before the plank bridge. It was only the squadron’s leader that walked ahead, pulling the reigns of the queens’ binds that accompanied them inside the foreboding shanty.

When they were inside, they were pushed kneeling before the chief—the leader of the haven.

“I have brought the interlopers, father,” the identical figure said.

The chief—Bayard—had been facing them all the time but seemed to have just noticed their arrival when his son spoke. He opened his eyes that were covered by the folds of his skin to better look at the captives.

“Queens…” his voice slightly sound perplexed. “Unbind them at once, Baeley,” he commanded.

“But father, we are unguarded,” Baeley protested, “and I’ve seen them fight. They could easily kill us.”

“They won’t,” Bayard grunted, “Unbind them immediately. They are guests not prisoners.”

Baeley was reluctant and he looked to his father and the prisoners alternatively before taking out a knife from his belt’s harness. He cut the ropes.

“Thank you, old friend,” Mirana massaged her wrists.

“What brings you here?” Bayard asked. He got up from his chair, shaking—the age, manifesting itself through the way he moved.

Mirana swallowed. “I’m going to need your aid, old friend… as I have once asked of you in the past.”

Although it wasn’t obvious, Mirana still noticed that the bloodhound was surprised had she seen Bayard’s eyes widen. “I’m afraid you won’t get what you came here for.”

Mirana stood up and strode towards Bayard, placing her hands on the bloodhound’s arms. “I know I’ve failed you in the past but this time… it’s different.”

Bayard walked back to his chair and sat down, bending forward with his arms on his lap. The wrinkles of his skin drooping. “With all due respect, my queen, but I cannot hand you over the last of my men. We are all that remain here.”

“Bayard, please listen…”

Bayard growled, silencing the queen and then he apologized shortly thereafter. “My sons…” his voice sounded low, “My daughters… my wife… my people… they all died fighting for something that we cannot even achieve.”

“I’m sorry for what happened to your family… truly, I am and the guilt cannot overwhelm me more that it torments me every day knowing that I have taken a lot from you…”

“Then you understand that you won’t get what you’re after,” Bayard interjected. He sounded much more aggressive and the calmness of his façade was slowly leaving. “You’re asking that I send my people to their certain deaths. If I do that, what kind of an alpha am I?”

“This time, I’m sure,” Mirana pushed forth. She was desperate.

Bayard paid her no mind. “I suggest you leave at once,” he said, “Before you drive me mad.”

Mirana didn’t seem to have the intention of leaving and when she showed Bayard that she would stay, Bayard ordered Baeley to drag the queens out. Baeley held Mirana by the arm and took Iracebeth as well.

“Wait,” Mirana pleaded, “Please, Bayard.”

“Your people…” Iracebeth shouted as she yanked her arm off from Baeley’s grip, “Don’t you want to avenge them? Your wife and your children?”

Bayard growled.

The red queen continued, “What my sister did was terrible but it wasn’t in vain. Your peoples’ sacrifice hasn’t gone to nothing. What your people fought for—two of the best inventors are there, creating weapons that Alice could only build in her dreams. And though few our numbers will be this time, fewer would die once they are equipped with fine techs. My sister and I cannot promise you that blood will not be shed. It is war. It is inevitable and you know it… but my sister and I can guarantee you that your people and the rest of us will be free.”

Silence occupied the entire building. Even Baeley paused in trying to drag the queens out. Bayard lifted a brow. “You’re persuasive,” he said, “But I made up my mind. I will not risk my people. Baeley, take them out.”

Baeley didn’t move.

Bayard commanded again.

There came no actual response from his son. “Father…” Baeley said, “I think the red queen is right…”

“Baeley, we will not speak of this…” Bayard raised his voice. “Take them out.”

“No, fath—no, dad… she is right. Mum and my other siblings… they died and are we to do nothing about it?”

“Baeley, you are to shut your mouth,” Bayard stood up.

“Aye… I’ll do that just for you,” Baeley’s voice was low. “Because that’s how you want to deal with their sacrifice—by shutting up about it.”

Iracebeth joined in the conversation. “Alice has the portion of an infinity gem, Bayard and believe it or not this has been happening over and over again for God knows how many times.”

Bayard snarled. “Do you expect me to believe that? You’re telling me countless times my people had fought in your war?”

“Not this exact scenario,” Iracebeth trailed off. “This is the first time we’re heading out of what Alice wrote which is why we need to grab that opportunity in finally defeating her.”

Bayard tapped his finger on the arm of his chair, a light growl echoing under his breath however he was all but convinced. “Baeley, take them out now. Disobey me again and you I shall banish you from this place.”

Baeley walked to Iracebeth and held the red queen on the forearm gently, coaxing her to come with him. Before guiding the queens out, he turned back to his father. “I see that’s how you want to handle the last of your living sons. I’ll take them out and I’m going with them.”

Bayard stood up in an instant. “You dare—”

“Aye, I dare, Da,” Baeley interjected. “What are you going to do about it? I don’t know what this infinity gem is and I don’t care. I’m fighting for two things and that’s that. I’m fighting for vengeance and freedom. What about you, Da? What are you fighting for?”

The older bloodhound was left in silence, idle on where he stood as he watched his son exit with the queens. He was convinced yet he forced himself not to engage in the war. He kept on recalling what his youngest son had said back then—that freedom was already theirs.

***

Baeley guided the queens on the plank leading to what seemed to be the haven’s town square. The folks gathered all around, just sitting in a circle.

“I’m sorry if I hadn’t convinced my father…” Baeley apologized, “But allow me to fight in this war. I will give it my all and die fighting.”

“You’re very honorable,” Mirana said and then looked to her sister. “Thank you, Racy, for trying.”

They were just about to leave when Baeley suddenly invited the queens to the town square. Many cyborgs of different sizes and species and intelligent animalistic beings gathered around, parting way as the son of the chief made his way to the center.

Mirana and Iracebeth passed by their previous opponents. The axe-cyborg had a bandage on his dislocated arm and the snaky one covering the eye which the red queen previously hit with a stone.

Baeley stood on a platform and the moment he did, all eyes turned on him and it became dead quiet.

“People!” Baeley shouted. “The queens here I present to you before me are chances of freedom!”

The crowd buzzed from all the gathered whispers as doubtful and resentful eyes directed at the red and white queens.

“They hold a chance for all of us to be free!” Baeley continued, “I am going to be honest with all of you. If you follow them, most of you are probably going to die. Most of you are probably going to suffer as the others had in the previous war against Alice. That is no lie!”

The buzz in the crowd became much louder.

“What is he doing?” Iracebeth whispered through gritted teeth. “Is he trying to antagonize us?”

Mirana hushed her sister with a finger. “Let us just see…”

“I am telling you this because I am giving you a choice!” Baeley yelled at the top of his lungs. More and more people reacted negatively—apparent from their faces as the son of the chief appeared mad as a March hare asking them to die. “I am going to fight alongside these queens! And if fate writes that I die, so be it but I am going to die fighting for two things: vengeance and freedom!”

One cyborg from the crowd surfaced, stepping in front. It was the axe-cyborg Mirana had previously fought. “Son of the chief, with all due respect but don’t you think we would just be running to our deaths?” he asked. “Aye, these queens are fierce warriors,” he emphasized with his injured arm, “But even if we have them, I doubt we would win against Alice.”

“Then do not fight,” Baeley answered directly. As much as possible, he didn’t include the part where they would have the same level of technology to use against Alice so that he is able to separate those who would truly fight from those who would fight only because of the odds. “As I have said before, you are given a choice: to fight for freedom and avenge your dear ones or continue living—doing nothing.”

Moments passed and the crowd was silenced. There were no more buzzing noises—just faces of despair and reluctance. Baeley walked out of the elevated platform and invited the queens that they leave.

“I’ll fight,” hissed one from the crowd. It was the snaky cyborg.

“I’ll fight as well,” surfaced another one—the axe-cyborg.

More and more people joined in and before they even knew it, they already have a small platoon of warriors following behind them. Many were still left at the town square compared to those that followed but it was enough for the queens.

“Where do we go now, your majesties?” Baeley asked.

Mirana lead the way. “Follow me,” she said, “We prepare for the Frabjous day.”