Alice chased the hooded figure through the woods, ignoring the stinging slap of the tree branches as she crashed through the brush. The hooded figure was fast and graceful, traversing the dips and protruding rocks as if it were skating over ice. But Alice was not one to be bested. Her years of training under Mr. Ferret had helped her develop her own enviable grace and speed. Still, this mysterious figure matched her abilities, and since it had gotten a head start, Alice was doubtful she could overtake it.

Digging her arm into her smol, Alice searched desperately for some tool to assist her. Her fingers groped in the infinite space inside her bag until they brush against something firm. She grabbed it and pulled, revealing a giant butterfly net. She faltered for a moment before tightening her grip on the long handle and setting her sights on the hooded figure ahead of her. With a strangled cry, she used all of her energy to boost her speed.

The figure glanced back at the sound and nearly tripped over a gnarled root. It slowed down to regain its footing, and Alice took that moment to strike. She threw the net over the figure's head and knocked it to the ground. Before she could stumble herself, Alice used the long handle of the butterfly net to turn herself on her heel so that she was standing right in front of the hooded figure.

"How did you do that?" the figure asked in a rather monotone voice.

"Who are you?" Alice demanded. "Why were you following me?"

"Where did you find a net?"

"I asked who you are."

"One minute you were empty-handed, the next you had a giant net."

Alice blew a strand of hair out of her face. "I got it out of my smol."

"What's a smol?"

"A spatially remarkable purse made by a very talented but very mad hatter from the land of Chess. Now. Who. Are. You."

A sigh escaped from behind the dark hood still obscuring the figure's face. "This wasn't exactly how I pictured this moment. But I suppose this is what I get for skulking about in the bushes."

The mysterious figure at last lowered its hood to reveal a young woman, perhaps only a year or two older than Alice. Although the netting obscured her features slightly, Alice could make out a long, dark braid and smooth, olive skin.

"Who are you? Why were you following me?" Alice asked.

"Could we perhaps discuss this outside of the net?"

"I don't know you, therefore I do not trust you. So no."

"Fair enough. My name is Ina Skeffington. I am a thief by trade, just like you."

"How do you know I'm a thief?"

"I know all about you, Alice."

Alice started when Ina addressed her by name. "You know who I am?"

"Of course I do."

"I suppose word of my sudden rise to royalty has spread quickly."

"While I admit to having heard about your newly acquired title, that is not how I know you."

"So you've heard of my fabulous escapades as a thief, then?"

Alice could have sworn Ina gave a crooked smile. "Something like that."

"So why were you following me?"

"Because I need your help."

Alice shifted on her feet, regarding the woman with skepticism. "If you needed my help, why didn't you just approach me instead of lurking in the shadows like a—"

"Like a thief?" Now Alice knew Ina was smiling. "Thievery seems to run in our blood, doesn't it?"

"I'm not so sure about my blood, to be honest."

"What do you mean?"

Alice smirked. "I thought you knew all about me?"

"Could we please discuss this after you've released me? It's a rather sensitive subject, and I'm finding it difficult to gather the right words while stuck in this net."

Pursing her lips, Alice reluctantly lifted the net off of Ina. The self-proclaimed thief rose to her feet, dusting off her trousers and cloak and straightening her perfectly tied braid. Alice leaned against the butterfly net and watched her carefully.

"So you said you don't know that thievery runs in your blood?" Ina asked as she looked up at Alice.

Alice shrugged. "I mean, I was raised by a thief, but my memories from before the age of eight are non-existent."

"Non-existent? How can that be?"

"I don't know. All I know is that I don't remember anything before Mr. Ferret found me and took me into his home."

"So you have no idea about your early childhood? Your parents, your heritage?"

"Not a lick. The only thing I knew when I woke up in Hearts was my name, Alice Liddell."

A smile slowly spread over Ina's face, which she quickly tried to smother with her hand. "Well, you almost got it right," she mumbled.

"Excuse me?"

Ina straightened up and schooled her expression into seriousness. "Clearly there is much to tell you, but our time is rather limited. I am in desperate need of your help."

"Right, help. What do you need my help for?"

"I need you to take back your rightful place as queen."

Alice scoffed and shook her head. "Did the White Rabbit send you? Or Hatta?"

"No one sent me, Alice."

"Because while I agreed to being crowned as the Queen of Hearts, I'm not ready to give up on my life. I just got married, I'm exploring new lands. Give me a little more time to—"

"I am not talking about your place in Hearts. I am talking about your rightful place. Your birthright."

"Birthright? What does that even mean?"

Ina's steely-eyed stare nearly cause Alice to fall back a step. "You are the daughter of the late Queen of Thieves, Alice Chataway, making you the rightful heir to her throne."

The world went still, only this time it wasn't due to the pocket watch. She was the daughter of a queen? No, not just any queen. The Queen of Thieves. There was actually such a thing? And did she say "late"? The Queen was dead? Her mother was dead? Which meant that she was—

"You must have the wrong person," Alice said waving away everything Ina had just told her. "My name is Alice Liddell, not Alice Chataway."

That crooked smile returned. "I'm not sure what happened to cause you to lose your memories," Ina said, "but whatever it was seems to have mixed things up in your brain a bit. While you were named after your mother, she was the only one who called you 'Alice.' Her subjects, to avoid confusion, affectionately called you Little Alice."

The words spun about in Alice's head. Little Alice. It sounded familiar. Very familiar. It was as if she could hear someone calling that name somewhere in the thick fog that shrouded her youthful memories.

"I suppose I can understand how you could confuse it for 'Alice Liddell,'" Ina said.

"This can't be right," Alice said. "You can't believe that I am the heir to this queen just because we share the same name."

"No, that would be foolish. However, you and I are not strangers. Believe me when I say I would know Alice Chataway's daughter when I saw her."

"But I'm just a petty thief! I was raised by a ferret who stole socks. I could not be the daughter of a queen."

Even as she said it, the memory of pulling the Vorpal Sword from her smol flashed in her mind. The Vorpal Sword. A weapon that can only be wielded by royalty.

Alice shook the thought from her head. It couldn't be possible.

"Aside from the fact that you bear a striking resemblance to the late Queen Alice, there's also the pocket watch," Ina continued.

Alice furrowed her brow. "The pocket watch?"

"The one you were looking at by the fire."

Pulling the timepiece from her pocket, Alice held it up for both she and Ina to see. The moonlight glinted off of the tarnished brass rib cage, and Alice could feel the gears moving and ticking away the seconds.

"Yes, I'd recognize that anywhere," Ina said with a soft smile. "That was hers."

"How can you even prove that?"

"I can't. But the engraved A on the left side of the rib cage should."

Narrowing her eyes at Ina, Alice flipped open the door of the watch and examined the inside of the ribs. Sure enough, there on the left, where the heart should have been, was a beautifully carved A.

Alice's gaze turned back to Ina who dipped into a respectful bow.

"Your Majesty."