He adjusted his hat and stepped into the sunlight.

A silent crowd had gathered in the courtyard; hundreds of eyes peered shamelessly as he passed. He stared at the ground. The chains around his ankles made him stumble, and the chains around his wrists had rubbed the skin raw. A few more steps, he knew, and the chains wouldn't matter anymore.

The Knave smiled. The Red Queen stared. The Hatter climbed the stone steps without hesitating, and sank to his knees.

Mallymkin whispered, "I'm right behind you." And at that moment, something clicked. He realized: it was ending

It was a pity, really. There was no more time to wonder. No more half-formed riddles to reason out—and no more answers to find. Why was a raven like a writing desk? No more things to see—red knights, and the gleam of Marmoreal, and the wickedness of Jabberwock claws—Alice, in the teapot, or behind the rose bushes. Too small or too tall. Alice—and he laid his head down over the chopping block, staring down into nothing, seeing nothing. He knew everything. And everything in him knew the end was near.

The Red Queen looked on coldly.

At least he knew the day was coming—the Jabberwock would fall and she would follow, and all would be all right. Even without him…

"Off with his head!" the queen demanded.

Off your head. The words were an echo, from some day that seemed more distant than it was. Her sweet voice. A smile flickered on his lips.

"It'll be done in no time," the executioner promised quietly from behind his mask.

"Time?" Time was too strange, in the Hatter's opinion, and altogether too flighty a thing to dictate when he would die. A grin surfaced on his face, gap-toothed and innocent, childlike and genuine. Time was a stupid thing.

Time was running out.

And the only thing he would regret was never seeing Alice again—Alice—the word was on the tip of his tongue. It…mmm. It started with an M. "Martyrdom," he whispered, to no one that could hear him. "Fair farren, Alice."

He heard the axe slice through the air behind him; the smile never left his face. A hideous thwack echoed through the courtyard, a spatter of crimson found the stones, and no one moved.

The silence was mesmerizing.