"So," asked Alice, "do I call you Professor Postlethwaite? Posthumous? They're both a bit of a mouthful."

The man took off his hat and goggles. It was suddenly as if a spotlight had been switched on, turning the darkness of his features bright. His thin mouth widened into a perfect grin, even, white teeth shining as brightly as the deep blue in his eyes. His whole face appeared to be smiling. Alice was taken aback by the startling transformation from sinister to sunshine.

"Call me Posty," he said. "Everyone does. Well, nobody does, actually, but you can."

Alice nodded and smiled back. His voice had the same colour as his features and she felt somehow lighter, as if he was lifting her spirit with his presence. It felt odd as, only a moment before, she was on her guard and feeling his persona to be menacing.

"Posty," she said. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Won't you come inside? I'm just about to have some tea."

"I'd love to," Alice said. "Perhaps you could tell me where I am?"

"You don't know where you are?" Posty frowned. His brow was a mass of lines and furrows though the frown didn't seem to be able to reach his still happy eyes.

"I'm afraid not," she said. "I have no idea. I don't know if I'm dreaming or if this is real, but it's all very strange."

"Yes, you are."

"No me," she shook her head. "All this. A cave which doesn't end. A fall which goes on forever. A pathway and forest which isn't there anymore. It's distinctly odd."

"Well," said Posty. "That is odd. Odd indeed. For one, the fall couldn't have gone on forever, because you're not falling. The cave you speak of must have had an end as you're no longer in it. And as for the pathway, well, that does as it wishes. There's nothing strange about that."

"It does as it wishes? How can a path do that?"

"It's a wonder, of course. You would have thought they'd follow the rules. That one doesn't."

"It doesn't?"

"No. Not at all. To begin with, it doesn't begin. Nor does it end."

"How can it do that?" It was Alice's turn to frown.

"Well, I just told you it doesn't there's no point in asking how it does. Silly girl." Alice was about to protest, but he continued. "Also, it doesn't go anywhere."

"Every path should go somewhere," Alice said, forgetting she'd just been called 'silly' in the face of such silliness. "That's their point."

"You'd think. Not that one. It just goes along for a while until it gets fed up. Thankfully, it's not always there. That'd be such an inconvenience! It just comes by every few days. Maybe once every week or two, and hanges around for a bit."

"Paths can't do that."

"Have you seen it?" Posty raised an eyebrow questioningly. It lifted high enough to almost be touching his hairline.

"No," Alice admitted.

"Then how do you know?""

"Well," Alice was hesitant. She felt foolish, even though she knew she was being reasonable. "It just can't."

"Alice, the land is full of wonder. If you haven't seen something, please don't say it can't exist or be so."

Alice saw the logic in his words, but thought she was still being sensible. Some things were just impossible.

"What about the big creature?" she asked, wanting to move on to something less crazy.

"You mean the Yetticus?"

"Yeticcus? You mean like a Yeti?"

"No. Like a Yeticcus."

"Oh, well, yes. The Yeticcus."

"What about it?"

"Well... I mean... What is it? Where did it go?"

"I have no idea. I've never heard of them."

"Never heard...? But...?"

Professor Posthumous Postlethwaite was no longer listening, however. He'd turned and was walking towards the house. She hurried after, feeling somewhat exposed amidst the growling plants and nonsense.

"Tea will be getting cold," he said as he hurried inside. "We can't have that."

The room they entered was clearly a kitchen. Cupboards lined the walls and a sink filled with pots and pans, all sparklingly clean, sat under the window inside the door. All the worktops were covered in strange contraptions and what looked like parts to a variety of clocks. Alice could see springs and cogs of all sizes. There were casings and hands and screws strewn everywhere. It should have felt untidy but didn't. Instead, there was a sort of chaotic order she couldn't quite understand but could just discern.

"Excuse the mess," said Posty. "I'm in the middle of something."

"It's not a problem," she said. Her own parents treated her as if she was their own personal Cinderella. It made a nice change to not have to clear up all the mess.

"Now. About that tea."

"Would you like me to make it," Alice offered.

"No," he said, somewhat abruptly. "Thank you but she wouldn't like that."

"She?"

"Mrs. Postlethwaite. She only likes me to make her tea."

"I really don't mind," she said. Alice was used to doing such things at home but it was nice to not be expected to. She did, though, feel she should. Her hands, at the thought of someone else doing 'her job,' felt a little useless.

"I said no." He didn't snap, but his tone was insistent and ensured Alice didn't ask again.

The Professor walked over to a counter and pressed a series of buttons on what had originally looked like part of the scattered pieces of machinery. There was a quiet hissing and he placed a cup under a short spout. The hissing lasted for only a few seconds before stopping and he pulled the cup away. He reached into his pocket and sprinkled something into the contents.

"Perfect," he said.

Alice looked into the cup. It was empty.

"There's nothing there," she said, confused.

"Alice," said the man. She looked up and met his gaze. He smiled. "There's always something there."

She looked down again and gasped. The cup was filled, almost to the brim, with a deep purple liquid. It smelled of lilies and made her stomach grumble with hunger. She couldn't help licking her lips.

"Give me a moment, and I'll make you one."

Alice could only nod. She suddenly had an intense desire to taste whatever was in the cup and went to dip her finger in, only to have her hand slapped away.

"Sorry!" she said. She couldn't explain where the urge had come from. She was never so rude.

"It's fine," he told her. "It happens to everyone the first time."

"The first time?"

"Yes."

Alice shook her head. Were there no straight answers anymore? Was this some form of weird therapy from Dr. Edwards? Was she at home in her room having a psychotic episode?

"Come with me," Posty said quietly. "I'd like you to meet her."