"Oh, sure, now he wants to accept the throne," he mumbles under his breath, the sound drowned out in the rush of the chase and the sound of feet thudding on paving stones.

Even in the dead of winter, the garden is a picturesque marvel of landscaping ingenuity, taken from what looks like the grounds of some rich nobleman's estate where five gardeners work year round to trim the grass to just the right height. The garden has probably seen stranger than two men running full tilt through it and Anders doesn't feel too bad about ripping through the empty flower beds, disturbing foliage and stepping on the carcasses of dead flowers. If Wonderland doesn't like it, it can damn well revoke his holiday pass and send him home.

Standing in the center is the fountain and its surrounding knee-high wading pool. Anders leaps down from the one flower bed once he reaches its end and cuts around another, keeping it between them, his zig-zagging taking him closer and closer to the water.

He doesn't let Alistair stray too far--and it's not so hard when Alistair is nipping at his heels like a mabari on the trail of a hare. If Alistair follows him to the fountain's edge and he times a swerve just right, momentum could work in his favor and send his pursuer stumbling into the pool.