To her disbelief--or perhaps her relief--Alice saw nothing in the back of the courthouse but a wide room with a smooth table circled by a collection of chairs. They towered high with a great and looming authority, almost inspiring monarchy amongst all of the tenants in the room. A good deal of the chairs was already occupied: Dowe had his wings folded patiently, the cricket just barely peeked over the table, Dr. Mint Reader tapped his finger impatiently, and Ferrabech sat fidgeting eagerly, her misty blue eyes darting this way and that. Alice made her way to an empty seat (strategically as far away from the crow as she could manage) but couldn’t shake the increasingly dank air around her. This seemed to be more than Ferrabech’s doing.

“N-how then,” Dowe squawked, “’ere’s only one person we ought’a’rec’nize before goin’bout business as usual. Let’s all give a big round of applause to--”

Instinctively, Alice paused by the side of her seat and curtseyed while C and Cero sat down, eyeing her curiously.

“Aye, gum-drop!” the crow squawked with a sudden piercing fury. “What are you trying to bring down on us? You can’t turn the spotlight before your turn; y’aven’t a turn otherwise!”

Alice bit her lip, quickly and quietly debating over how to proceed. “You said you were going to give a round of applause to a person--”

“You-hoo are an idiot,” Dr. Mint Reader scolded. “That’s not at all what he said.”

“You put words in his mouth before putting them in his head,” C noted, “’tis not wise to run something without i-ni-tialization, you see?”

Alice sighed in defeat and slumped into her chair, taken aback by how pleasantly comfortable it felt.

“Where was I?” the crow pondered. “Ah yes! Let’s all give a big round of applause to myself for another successful execution of a composition!”

One at a time, each board member clapped around the table. Alice just barely managed a clap of her own, growing gradually sleepier and sleepier.

“Many thanks,” the crow bowed with a seemingly faux-sheepishness. “And now, for before ‘twas--wait, hoards of fours--ah, doors! I’ve gone and lost my sense of direction!”

The cricket scuttled over and tugged at the crow’s head, turning it all about. “Found the sense yet?”

“False.”

“Now?”

“Negative.”

“Here?”

“Hardly.”

“Yonder?”

“Yes!” Dowe exclaimed, sending the cricket flying back into his seat. “Let us rec’nize this person’ere! Personally, I’aven’t seen such a person, but surely I’ve known’im!”

“But you don’t recognize him?” Cero droned.

“I already have!” the crow sounded incredibly frustrated all of a sudden. “’Tis your turn! Don’t come looking to me for recogn’tion when y’can’t manage any!”

“But you can’t give us any proof that you recognize him?” Cero continued.

“’Tis your turn!” the bird seethed.

While the argument brewed further, Alice shook herself awake and took a good look at this person. He was a disheveled looking young man with stark black hair that had been tussled with the utmost carelessness. His hands were folded calmly over his chest, almost as though he had fallen asleep in mid-prayer--or fallen asleep for good.

“’Tis Doyll,” C commented quietly to Alice.

“Doyll?”

“He’s always here, but he doesn’t do much,” C commented further. “’Tis as though he doesn’t run time, but time runs him--or, rather, runs from him. You see?”

He chuckled to himself as Alice brushed off the comments as just another set meaningless cryptic jabs. Still, she found herself taken in by this Doyll: what good did it do to sleep through this? ‘How queer it is to be asleep in this--’ Alice thought she had the word, but it started to dart about fiercely in her head, coming out in small hiccups: ‘--dr--re--ea--mmmmm--’

“What are you-hoo, starving?” the doctor broke Alice’s trance.

“No, I--”

“Tell us now,” the crow eyed her sternly. “What’ve’y’got that we’aven’t?”

Alice let her mind stray back & forth for a moment. “The last thing I remember eating…bright and sweet--”

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Dowe suddenly fluttered his stubby wings with utter joy. “By jovelry, you’ve jogged me back to impartial’ty! By the fairest of all chances, I’ve devised the greatest division that ever gave such dividends!”

Alice recalled the gnarled creature outside the courthouse. “Are you referring to--”

“And on that note, our attention oughtn’t be divided further! Why, we surely shan’t have any left!”

“Precisely!” C chirped.

“If not accurately,” Cero added.

“’Tis a whole lot of nothing,” Dr. Mint Reader wheezed.

“What exactly will our attention be on now?” Alice asked, only half curious.

The crow flung a gumdrop toward Alice’s open mouth. It shot straight down her throat with deadly agility. Although she expected to crumple in a fit of choking, Alice simply swallowed and felt the candy slide right down, almost like pure honey.

“There, gumdrop. A small bite’ll do,” the crow said, gesturing toward an object in the middle of the table that Alice hadn’t noticed before, “as we sink our teeth into this!”

It was nothing more than a simple white box with a deep ebony lid. The crow grandly waved over it as if it were a royal chalice. “We can perceive, though I above all in my impartial assertion, that this is most certainly a--”

He stopped to flip his coin, eyeing the result meticulously.

“--box. Now, supposedly, we have a supposed cat in this box that has supposedly caused the Queen herself a right undoubted deal of great frustration; simply t’won’t reveal the state ‘tis in!”

“State?” Alice wondered. Her voice sounded softer, almost demure. Deep inside, her thoughts were anything but. Such a description of a cat seemed far more familiar than she cared to admit: a beautiful code that had finally been cracked.

“The theories issued thus far render this the most puzzlingly perplexing matter addressed by this high gathering!” Dowe exclaimed. “What say you, chairmen?”

A chorus of ‘aye’s’ reverberated around the room. Alice felt as though her voice was being swept away in this choir-like sea.

“Right!” the crow continued. “Now, after utilizing the judgment granted to me by virtue of this li’l one’s attention to speed and carelessness for details, I’ve come to reason that the supposed cat in this box is dead.”

Alice’s head snapped up amidst the dizzy illusion that the room seemed to be growing. “Dead?!”

Ferrabech finally spoke up, sounding inconsolably morose. “Oh, I haven’t a rose to lay on his grave!”

“Box,” Dowe corrected her with a slight edge. “Unfortunately, reason doesn’t suffice for the Queen as of late. With all of the crime around us, we need deductions! The matter at hand is the deduction of whether or not the cat is truly dead without opening the box.”

“Why can’t we open the box?” Alice wondered aloud.

“That would be brutish,” the crow said with an air of finality. “The spindly one knows.”

“Brute force is hardly elegant--” C began.

“Tis not elegant at all.” Cero finished.

Alice squirmed forward and tried to reach out for the box, but her arms seemed to retract further and further back. That didn’t stop the crow from squawking contemptuously.

“No, no, don’t touch the box! You’ll be covered in germs!”

“But say the cat is alive?” Alice countered.

“Then you’ll cover him in germs!” the crow jabbed at Alice with his stubby wing. “You’aven’t considered all options with complete impartial’ty, gumdrop! Who are you to judge?”

“I’m doing the best with what I know!” Alice jabbed back.

“Me-thinks the small one is more inclined to be a brute,” the doctor mused.

“I don’t see how I’m so small to you!” Alice cried with frustration. Looking around, she realized with horror that her fellow chairmen had begun to tower over her.

“Of course,” C replied, scooping Alice up and plopping her into his lap, “you surely can’t see how small you are! Nay, you can only see how big we are, you see?”

“Si,” Alice sighed.

“There’s always a bigheaded midget in every room,” the doctor groaned.

Alice pursed her lips as C contentedly cradled her.

“Now then,” Dowe continued, “we can’t touch the box. By impartial reasoning, I say we give our first inclinations to our ears. If we can’t hear the supposed cat, I’d suppose he’s as good as dead!”

Alice couldn’t help piping up. “But that doesn’t make any sense!”

“Of course not!” the crow replied with a slightly condescending tone. “T’only takes sense! I’ve yet to move on to sight and taste!”

“What I meant,” Alice continued, “is that this isn’t sensible.”

“Gum-drop, my senses are perfectly able!” the crow exclaimed harshly. “Is everyone a cripple to you?”

“Oh dear, my poor nose!” Ferrabech wailed. “My nose can’t tell a rose! Crippled and dimpled, onward my nose goes!”

“’Tis not the onl-e-hee thing that has gone,” Dr. Mint Reader uttered curtly.

The cricket hopped back atop the crow’s head and turned him to face Ferrabech. “She’s a point, yes? We’ve a cripple here! What good is the law to us cripples?”

The crow opened his mouth to respond, but the doctor spoke instead. “The-hese are valid inquiries. After all, what is art to the blind? What is music to the deaf?”

“Music,” said the cricket, straightening up, “is that which is perceived aud’torily in a pleasant manner.”

“Nonsense!” the crow shrilled. “I, for one, am perfectly content to make music in the confines of my home! This world is my aud’torium!”

“But to the deaf,” the doctor seethed, “there can be no music! They can’t truly know what music is!”

“Won’t somebody please think of those with no nose, who can’t smell a rose?” Ferrabech whined.

Amidst this chatter, Alice nudged C in his stomach. “Lift me up to the table,” she said, pointing upward.

“You don’t need to be up to the table,” C smiled warmly. “In fact, I like you just the way you are, you see?”

Growing tired of C’s smothering comfort, Alice scurried up his spindly body and took a leap of faith, scrunching her nose as her unfortunate scent mixed with the breeze around her as she just barely grasped the edge of the table. She swung herself past C’s fumbling arms and into the middle of the lively debate.

“If the deaf have no music,” she called out, “and the blind have no art, wouldn’t they be wise to adjust their passions? The blind could rejoice in music and the deaf could rejoice in art.”

The doctor frowned. “What of the blind and deaf, then? Where is their joy?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Alice thought she saw Doyll stirring, but she let the instant slide. “Well, I suppose there’s a certain freedom in not knowing what seeing & hearing are truly like. You could devise them on your own, or maybe--I don’t know, maybe be at peace. There isn’t nearly as much clamor that way.”

The crow spoke up. “What are you implying? Are you calling my music clamor?”

Alice suddenly got an idea, perpetually dancing around C’s failed grips. “Hardly; in fact, I’m indebted to your wealth of wisdom and impartial—ty. Do explain to me your most recent executions.”

The crow smiled. “Now this is a matter worth writing in the books!”