It was, in a word, magical.

Not just the sky, but the whole village. People appeared out of nowhere, shops and businesses busy in an instant. Food was cooking and chimneys were puffing and children were crying and parents were shouting and the hustle and bustle was all it took to shuffle Alice right along, right into the heart of it, and she felt her spirits soar despite her many worries. Eyes wide-open, Alice took it all in. This was a real adventure, wasn’t it? This was what she’d always dreamed of. And, oh, to find Father in the process! She nearly ran into the arms of this new world.

But first, she had priorities.

“Alice, no!”

Oliver tackled her.

“But I’m hungry,” she said, staring at the flower she’d nearly plucked out of the ground.

“You musn’t,” he said. “You can’t. And you absolutely shouldn’t.”

“But—”

“No,” he said firmly. “Only on special occasions are visitors allowed to eat anything in Furthermore. And this is not one of them.”

“Only on special occasions?” she said back to him. “And what are they to do until those occasions arrive?” Her hands were on her hips now. “Are they expected to starve?”

“Yes,” he said, and very gently and with a smile she did not anticipate. “Now,” he said, clapping his hands together, all business. “Will you be requiring use of the toilets? There’s only one set of toilets in all of Slumber and they’re right here at the start, so best to use them now if you need to. It’ll be a long trip, you know.”

“I—well, yes. Okay.” Alice dropped her hands and looked away. It was hard on her pride to be treated like an imbecile, and she hated the way Oliver seemed to know so much and she so little. She was fighting no small battle to be cooperative, if only for Father’s sake, but her patience had little practice. “But I’m also very hungry,” she said, determined to be heard. “I haven’t had any noonlunch.”

“Good,” Oliver said. “That will help us quite a bit.”

“And how’s that?”

Oliver squinted up at the night sky and, once again, offered no answers. Alice glared at his back. Oliver was secretly relishing his role as leader of the two and, under the pretense of being older and wiser, he hoarded his knowledge, miserly sparing only a sentence or three when he felt he must. But Oliver had underestimated his female companion and her capacity for being condescended to, and he would no doubt pay for his youthful arrogance. With every new slight and casual indifference, Alice was a glass half empty, slowly filling bottom to top with resentment. As for now, all was well enough, as she distracted herself with the splendors of her new environment, but Oliver would later find much to revise in his early moments with Alice Alexis Queensmeadow.

“Now then,” Oliver said, glancing at her, “we have only a couple of hours before the sun wakes up again, and a lot to do before that happens. Best to get moving,” he said, patting her on the back as a parent might. “And let’s get you to the ladies’ toilets, shall we?”

Alice grimaced and trudged on, mildly embarrassed and ignoring the urge to pop Oliver in the nose. She sighed loudly whenever they passed a patch of grass and a promising bud, the grumbles in her stomach growing louder by the moment. She knew she would be a terrible companion if she missed too many meals and it worried her; this journey was too important. She needed to be her best self—healthy and full of energy—and Oliver didn’t seem to care. He was grinning cheek to cheek, happy in a way she didn’t know he could be, and she realized then that Oliver was fond of Furthermore. Happy to be back. Maybe happy to be home.

Strange.

Alice skipped a little as they got closer to the heart of town, abandoning her frustration in exchange for excitement, eager to be seeing and doing new things. This was a thrilling journey for a young girl (and newly twelve years old, lest we forget) who’d never left home in all her life. More exciting still, Slumber wasn’t at all like Ferenwood, where everything was an explosion of color; no, Slumber was black and bright, an inky glow, orange-yellow spilling out of corners, puncturing the sky, creeping past their feet. It was cozy and merry and perfectly odd, and if Alice weren’t so preoccupied with thoughts of Father, she might’ve been more inclined to enjoy it.

There was food, everywhere.

Cups full of nuts standing in bowls, jars and jars of honey stacked in storefronts, glasses full of flowers just sitting on tables. Alice wanted very desperately to eat one. Just one, she thought, couldn’t have been so bad.

She said as much to Oliver.

“That is not food,” he said to her. “Those are decorations. People in Furthermore do not eat flowers. They eat animals.”

“Animals!” Alice cried, and shuddered, thinking of all the cows and sheep and birds back home. The people of Ferenwood lived in peace with living things, only occasionally borrowing milk or eggs or honey in exchange for a lifelong friendship with creatures older and wiser than they. Alice was duly horrified and she suddenly remembered Oliver’s hair, which had always reminded her of silver herring. She pointed an accusing finger in his direction. “You eat them, too, don’t you? Don’t you? Oh, those poor fish!”

Oliver went pink. “I haven’t any idea what you mean,” he said, and cleared his throat. “And anyway, no food is to touch your lips, not here and not at all, at least not until I tell you so.”

She scowled.

He scowled back.

“Remember what I said earlier?” Oliver scolded her. “About how we aren’t to break a single rule if we are to find your father?”

Alice nodded.

“Well, this is the first one,” he said. “So don’t break it.”

“Fine,” she said. And she pursed her lips, quietly hating him.