Hatter's Revenge (rewriting - read at own risk)

Ch. 3: Illegal Persons

As soon as Cheshire had disappeared with Alice and Dinah in tow, Mad took off running toward the direction the shot had come from, stripping off his ruined jacket as he went. He didn't want anything in the way of his guns. 

The shot had sounded fairly close, so he wasn't terribly surprised when he found a person clad in red blocking his path in a small clearing nearby.

"In a hurry are we, Hatter?" Rakta Diamond asked, red eyes flat and dead, voice cold as ice.

"Not particularly," Mad answered. His eyes scanned the clearing, looking for the Ace of Hearts.

"Tam isn't here, Hatter, if that's what you're worried about," Rakta said, stroking a finger down the butt of one of the revolvers slung low on his hips. That single movement showed such fluidity, such potential for speed.

Mad ignored the flutter of relief that revelation brought and let out a low laugh. "Worried? Me? Hardly." He snorted quietly, like the idea amused him. "No. I just heard a shot fired. Since I knew it wasn't me who had done it, I wanted to see what was going on."

Rakta smiled. It looked like a practiced effort. "Well, since I have you here, Hatter, let me pass on some news."

Mad smiled amiably and said, "All right. Shoot."

The Ace laughed, the sound mechanical. "Oh, I don't think you would want me to do that, Hatter. But to business. There are reports of a Real Worlder running loose in Wonderland."

Mad kept his face still, hand tapping at the top of his thigh. "Seems careless to just let people wander in."

Rakta nodded in agreement. "Yes, quite so. Just what the Queen thought in fact. She decreed these new Real Worlders as Illegal Persons and sent her best to eliminate them."

Mad made a conscious effort to still his fingers. "Illegal Persons?" he asked. "I thought you said it was just one Real Worlder?"

"Hmm," Rakta said, sounding bored and brushing at the lapel of his coat. "Does it matter? They'll both be dead by sun-up."

"Well," said Mad. "If that's all..?"

"Not quite," Rakta responded, his voice sharpening slightly. "The Queen was most displeased with you this morning. She wanted me to give you a message." 

As soon as Rakta said the last word, Mad was diving to the left.

He wasn't fast enough and felt the bullet slam into his right shoulder. There was no pain at first, just a sense of warmth. Then the pain tore into him with a viciousness that made him gasp. Mad gritted his teeth, then reaching with his left hand, pulled his right gun and cocking it, aimed at Rakta's chest. "You try that again and you'll be hitting the ground before you can blink."

Rakta laughed. This time, it sounded real and Mad saw a true smile splayed across Rakta's face; his eyes were bright and alive, his cheeks flushed. 

That's what it means to be an Ace, Mad thought grimly. You were only happy if you were spilling blood. The hand holding his gun was steady, propped easily on the earth beneath him.

"Why do you  work for a Heart, Diamond?" Mad asked. "I've always wondered."

"Kind of a crazy time to ask that, isn't it, Hatter?" Rakta laughed, cocking his head, eyes still trained on the blood staining Mad's white shirt red.

"If the shoe fits," Mad said, shrugging. He automatically regretted that when his shoulder screamed at him.

Rakta flipped his gun up before snatching it out of the air with quick, graceful fingers and putting it back in its holster. Mad didn't lower his gun. 

"Wellll," Rakta drew the word out, pacing to the side a little. "Probably because she lets me do what I was born to do. I'm an Ace, Hatter. Just because the Diamond Royal Family is no more doesn't stop that fact. Mavros was very gracious, taking me into her Court. I don't even mind sharing with Tam. I still fulfill my purpose."

Rakta crouched down next to Mad, staring past the gun barrel inches from his face. "We all have a position, Hatter. You know how it is for the Cerdyn. We all have a place in the Deck. She just let me keep mine."

Then, quick as a deer, the Ace took off across the clearing and disappeared. Mad had lowered his gun slightly when Rakta's voice floated back. "Remember, Hatter. These new Real Worlders are Illegal Persons. The penalty for helping them is death."

Mad lay on his side for a second longer, watching the clearing at the edge of the trees, making certain that Rakta was truly gone. When he was sure he was alone, he sat up with a stifled groan. Using his teeth to strip off his left glove, he probed at the bullet wound in his shoulder. 

He felt a wetness on his back when he shifted and sighed with relief. The last time Mad had been shot in Wonderland, the bullet had lodged in his back. There were no anesthetics in Wonderland.

 Small mercies.

Mad stood up, swearing at the pain. He felt more blood slide down his chest and arm and upon looking down, was startled by just how much red there was. With great difficulty, he ripped a length of cloth from the bottom of his shirt and stuffed it into the wound, trying to stem the bleeding.

Then, Mad set off toward Maris' with the thought that, if he did keel over from blood loss, Chesh would find him before he bled out.

Probably.

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Rakta means blood in Kannada