Furthermore(55)

The fox stared at her for just a beat longer before pawing aggressively at her skirt pockets.

“What is it?” Alice pulled herself up to a seated position, and the fox retreated a few steps. She patted her pockets with her single hand and unearthed their contents: four visitor pamphlets, her black card, and her blond ruler. Alice held them out to the fox. “What do you want?” she asked. “Which one?”

The fox nodded through her wares, took one of the pamphlets into his mouth, and made a strange whine, indicating with his head that she should retrieve the pamphlet from him. Alice wasn’t sure what was happening, exactly, but she was relieved to know that at least her life was no longer in immediate danger. She tugged the pamphlet out from between the fox’s paper jaws and glanced at the title.

— FURTHERMORE PHRASEBOOK —

How to Understand the Languages You Don’t Speak

Alice inhaled sharply. She looked from the fox to the pamphlet and felt her heart pound quickly in her chest—but this time, Alice wasn’t afraid. She was excited. She flipped open the pamphlet with an eagerness that dispelled any lingering fears she might’ve had, but Alice’s eagerness quickly turned to dismay.

Every inch of the inside pages was blank.

Heartbroken, she hung her head. Perhaps the fox (or maybe Ted?) had made a mistake. (Or, you know, there’d been a printing error.) Whatever the reason for her misfortune, Alice was disappointed. She’d already begun refolding the pamphlet when a gentle, handsome voice said,

“Leave it open.”

Alice froze.

“Ms. Queensmeadow, please. Look at me.”

In that moment Alice was certain she’d misplaced the whole of her mind; but let me reassure you, dear reader, that she was in full possession of her faculties. The fox was most definitely speaking to her, and—

Can I just say? I don’t know that I understand the extent of her shock. The fox, like most animals (paper or no), is fully capable of speech. That we make few concerted efforts to understand the fox language is a fault entirely our own.

Now, where were we?

“Ms. Queensmeadow, please,” said the fox. “Look at me.”

Alice looked up, astounded.

“You are in danger, Ms. Queensmeadow. You must leave here at once.”

“Of course I’m in danger,” said Alice. “You’ve tried to kill me twice already!”

The fox shook his head. “I was not trying to kill you. I was trying to hide you. I do sincerely apologize for what happened to your arm—”

Alice harrumphed.

“—but I thought you’d be safer in my world. You should go, Ms. Queensmeadow. Go back to where you came from.”

“And why should I? Why do you care what happens to me?”

“I know why you’re here. We all do. And we know you’ve lost no fruit tree in the town of Slender.”

Alice gasped.

“Your journey to find your father is a noble one,” said the fox. “But he had no right to meddle in our affairs, and neither do you.”

“What do you mean?” said Alice. “What did Father do to meddle in your affairs?”

The fox tilted his head at her. “Our lands agreed long ago not to go poking in each other’s magical matters. And your father—who is publicly known for consorting closely with Ferenwood Town Elders—was found here in Furthermore asking too many questions about our magic and how we use it.”

“But he was arrested for wasting time—”

“Yes,” said the fox. “He was indeed arrested for time thievery. But he was also charged with suspected espionage.”

“What?” Alice felt the blood drain from her face.

“Tread carefully,” said the fox. “Furthermore knows you’re here to find him, and this land will not give up a spy so easily.”

“But he’s not—he can’t be—”

“Go home, Ms. Queensmeadow. Unless you, too, would like to be held accountable for his actions.”

“But—if you think my father’s a spy—” Alice faltered. “Why are you trying to help me?”

“You are an innocent.” The fox tossed back his head. “And I don’t agree that you should be harmed for seeking out a lost loved one. Besides,” he added, “I don’t approve of eating children. It’s uncivilized.”

Alice didn’t know what to say.

“You don’t have much time, Ms. Queensmeadow.” The fox was growing anxious; he’d begun circling around her. “Everyone here is waiting for you. Go home. Now. Before you’re found.”

“Who?” said Alice. “Who’s waiting for me—?”

There was a sudden rustle in the distance and the fox’s eyes darted around. He looked back at Alice with a wild nervousness. “Snap in three in case of emergency.”

“What . . . ?”

“Trust a friend who looks like one.”

“What are you—”

“We know,” said the fox. “We all know.”

Alice felt a prick of terror pinch the back of her neck. She couldn’t explain how, exactly, but she felt certain that something was about to go terribly wrong.

“Please,” she whispered. “I just want to find my father. Can’t you help me?”