He was beautiful in an extraordinary way. He was beautiful in a way she did not understand.

“What is your name?” Seldom asked.

“Alice, don’t tell him!” Oliver said, reaching out as if to stop her.

Alice didn’t even have time to roll her eyes at Oliver.

“Your name is Alice?” Seldom asked.

She nodded, pausing just long enough to shoot a dirty look at Oliver, who had now turned a very unflattering shade of puce.

“Yes,” she said, and sighed. Oliver had already told him anyway. “My name is Alice. Can I leave now?”

Seldom shook his head. “We would like to keep you.”

“Oh,” she said, surprised. She looked around at the crowd. They were smiling eagerly, nodding and waving hello. Suddenly they seemed friendly, and she was convinced it was some kind of a trick. “Well, that is very kind,” she said, turning back to Seldom. “But I really must be on my way.”

She took a step forward.

Seldom stepped in front of her. “Where do you have to go?”

Alice bit her lip and looked him square in the eye, wondering how much to say to him. She wasn’t sure how dangerous this situation was—mostly because Oliver was such a mouse he could hardly say a word—but she wasn’t going to let anyone keep her here. She knew that if she wanted to find Father, she had to first find her way through this.

(I feel it necessary to mention here that were it not for Father, Alice might not have felt so brave. Love had made her fearless, and wasn’t it strange? It was so much easier to fight for another than it was to fight for oneself.)

But how? Alice thought. Escape might require a lie, and she—well she had bound herself to the truth.

And yet, Alice compromised, her truths were meant only for Ferenwood, weren’t they? Technically—if we may speak technically—Alice hadn’t even known Furthermore was real when she made that pact. And anyway, she quickly convinced herself, these next words wouldn’t be a lie. Not exactly. She would tell a story, she’d decided. A fable. A work of fiction.

“I am in charge of the sun,” she said loudly. “And I’m on my way to wake him up.”

Seldom blinked fast. Shocked.

Oliver inhaled sharply.

The crowd around them went loud then silent in rapid succession.

“Alice,” Oliver whispered. He was holding her hand again. He kept doing that. “What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered back to him. She was still looking at Seldom. “I’m trying to get us out of here.”

“But, Alice—”

“You are in charge of the sun?” Seldom asked quietly. His eyebrows had rushed together in confusion.

“Yes,” she said. And nodded, too, for added effect.

“Oh.” He frowned. “We did not think a person could climb so high.”

“I’m very talented,” she assured him, this time not lying at all. “There are a great many things I can do.”

Seldom grunted.

Alice tried to smile.

“Is that why you’re so white?” Seldom asked, with no preamble.

“Excuse me?”

“Because your color’s all burnt off,” said someone from the crowd. “You’re white because you burnt off all your colors, didn’t you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that I—”

“So—you are not a visitor?” Seldom asked. “You’re one of us, but your color is gone? Because of the sun?”

“I, um”—Alice cleared her throat and looked around at their anxious faces—“yes,” she decided, “yes, that’s exactly what happened.” And she silently congratulated herself on her storytelling abilities.

“And what about him?” Seldom was pointing at Oliver.

“Oh yes,” she said quickly. “Him too. He’s seen the sun too many times, too. Not as many times as me, of course, but, you know, eventually, he’ll be just as white as I am.”

Seldom was crestfallen. He was so disappointed, in fact, that he seemed almost mad at Alice. He and his friends shared some words on the matter, and everyone took turns shooting her unkind looks.

Slowly, they scattered.

When they’d all finally walked away, Alice and Oliver were left to dwell on their feelings—and it turned out they were both very angry with the other.

Oliver was still holding Alice’s hand and they were now walking very, very quickly through town, but Oliver was huffing and Alice was puffing and he said, “I can’t believe you!” and she said, “You are such a coward!” and he said, “Always causing trouble, never listening,” and she said, “Didn’t do anything at all to save us, just standing there like a stump,” and Oliver stopped so suddenly they nearly fell over.

“Didn’t do anything at all to save us?” he said. “Standing there like a stump? Alice, have you gone mad?”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous, Oliver! I was the one who had to think quickly—I was the one who had to—”

“You did nothing at all!” Oliver nearly shouted. “Do you know how hard I had to work? To get us out of that mess?”

“What?” she said. “What are you talking about?”

“Me, Alice, me.” He stabbed a finger at his chest. “While you stood there answering questions and making up stories, I had to convince them to believe you, and my head nearly exploded with the effort. I’ve been working so hard to help you, and all you do is fight me. I take your hand and you shove me away and I’m left grasping, furious—”