Hare scowled but didn’t respond, understanding Scrooge was right. Ebenezer nodded, knowing he got through to his friend. He rubbed Dum’s and Pen’s heads, his lids blinking, but quickly turned away.
“Take care of them, Hare.”
“She’ll try to block you.” Hare swiveled in his chair. “If she knew the truth, she’d stop you.”
“Then let’s not tell her the truth.” He grabbed a stuffed backpack by the door, sliding a kitchen knife into his boot, leaving the rifle tucked up against the corner by the door.
“Scrooge.”
“Hare, this needs to be done. Three days. Four max.” He inhaled, standing up to his full height. “If I’m not back by then—”
“Yeah. I know.”
“Don’t waste your time with me. Go straight to him.”
“Scrooge—”
“Promise me, Hare,” Scrooge demanded. “And don’t tell her until I’m long gone. She doesn’t need to know.”
“I can’t,” Hare growled, his head shaking.
“Promise. Me.”
Hare hung his head, his reply almost imperceptible. “Fine. I promise.”
“Thank you.” Scrooge nodded, strapping on the pack.
“What don’t you want me to know?” I blurted out, stepping out from the shadows. I was furious he was not only keeping something from me but was leaving without saying goodbye.
All heads turned to me, except for Nick’s, who was licking the frosting off his plate like a dog.
“Ms. Alice! Ms. Alice!” Pen yelled with a mouth full of pastry, hopping in his chair, wanting me to pick him up. Dum wiped at the icing around his eyes, licking it off his fingers before waving at me, while Hare and Scrooge stared at me like stone statues.
“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.” Scrooge’s reached for the doorknob, not meeting my gaze. “I will be fine. The people here need you far more.”
Hare’s mouth opened, but Scrooge shook his head.
“You were going to leave without saying goodbye?” My arms folded, and I strolled farther into the room.
Scrooge slid his jaw back and forth. “Goodbye, Ms. Liddell.”
My lips pinched together, fighting back the tears burning the back of my eyes and throat. I cleared my throat. “Goodbye, Mr. Scrooge.” Not one emotion touched my sentiment, the harsh things he said about me being used as my wall. “Good luck on your adventure.”
He gave me a nod, opening the door. He paused, peering back at his family before his gaze stopped on me. His mouth opened to speak, but he snapped it shut and stepped out, slipping into the darkness.
Locked up on the outside, my insides flopped and sputtered like fish in a drying pond.
“Idiot. Stupid. Insane asshat,” Hare muttered, looking as lost and sad as I felt.
My mouth twitched, my hand rubbing at the emptiness in my chest. “What didn’t he want me to know?”
“I’m not supposed to tell you.”
“But you will.”
“The mad are far too sensible to go to the Land of the Lost and Broken.” Hare turned to me. “Only sane people would enter.” He tugged on one of his ears. “And they wouldn’t stay that way for long.”
“What?” I exclaimed.
“It’s where the lost and broken exist. It can tear the most reasonable mind apart.” He tipped his head at me. “What do you think it will do to someone already lost and broken?”
The need to stay busy, to not think about Scrooge, kept me in constant movement. Checking on Dee, I cleaned and redressed some of her wounds as she continued to sleep. She looked a lot better and her steady, strong breathing suggested she was out of immediate danger. The girl was resilient. I had no doubt she’d recover.
Rudy, on the other hand, I wasn’t so confident about. Being submerged in the mead had helped his superficial wounds, but I had no idea about his internal ones. I was no nurse or doctor. I had no idea what to really do except be there. The liquid over the hours leaked slowly from the tub, and when it came to Rudy’s lower torso, I decided it was time to move him to a bed.
Unfortunately, the only bed left was Nick’s.
“No!” Nick roared, his boots hitting my toes, his chest puffed out. “Absolutely not. He already bloodied my sheets once. The smell clung to them all night. Can’t he take the bed in the other room?”
“It’s a small twin; he’s twice that size at least. Plus, Dee is still needing to heal and rest.”
“Then put him on the sofa or a cot… hell, put him out in the barn. He’s a fucking reindeer; he will probably enjoy it more. Feel right at home.” Nick flung out one arm, his robe gliding in the air. “You guys have stayed well past your welcome.”
“Because we were never welcome, it doesn’t really mean much.” I put my hands on my hips. He was taller than me and outweighed me by hundreds of pounds, but I had taken plenty of self-defense classes and learned to use their body weight against them. The bigger they were, the harder they fell.
“You will help me get him out of the tub and put him in your bed without a word of complaint.” I stepped up to him, gritting my teeth. “Do you understand me?”
“No, I don’t, girl,” he shot back. “Who the hell are you anyway to come marching into my house and make demands?” Nick leaned into me, snarling. I held my ground. No matter how angry he got, it was hard to take a naked Santa dressed in a flowery kimono robe seriously.
“I’m Alice Liddell, and I’m the girl who fell down a hole and became part of this group. Part of this journey. This war.”
“Alice,” Nick scoffed, anger reddening his cheeks. “There are no stories of you. There is no Alice in Winterland.”
“As you said before. But here. Is. Now.” The statement rang in the air so strong a chill spread over my skin. Like ink dropped in water, a buzz spread, expanding into the atmosphere like the truth.
His mouth slammed together, as if he felt the sensation as well. Staring down on me, he blinked, and for a second a keen awareness cleared his hazel eyes, a whisper of something I couldn’t place, before he blinked again and it was gone. Fury and resentment filled back in, twisting his hands into fists.
“Get. Out,” I shouted.
“Do it or I won’t cook for you again,” Hare yelled, cutting him off. He came up to my side, standing in solidarity with me. “No more cookies, muffins, scones, sweet yams, or even a sniff of a honey-glazed ham. Nothing. Is that what you want? Go back to burnt toast?” Hare shook his head. “And to think… I might even have the recipe for the mead, but I only make it for good little boys who do what they’re told.”
I rolled my lips together, trying not to laugh as Hare scolded him like a child.
“Wh-What?” Nick stuttered. “You have the recipe for mead?”
“May-be.” Hare shrugged. “Do what she asks, and maybe I’ll see if I can find it.”
Nick glared back and forth between Hare and me before turning around and heading for the bathroom to get Rudy.
“There,” Hare hmphed with pride. “Just need to know what buttons to push.”
“You really have the recipe for mead?” I couldn’t deny the excitement coating my question.
Hare peered up at me. “Oh, I have the recipe.” He tapped his head, winking at me. “But the ingredients and means to make it? No. I didn’t say I had that part of it.”
“Ohhh, you trickster.” I gaped at him.
“I prefer to think of myself as a survivalist. It’s how you stay alive in Winterland.”
My eyes widened even more when I watched a frowning Nick carry Rudy from the bathroom to his bedroom. He didn’t utter a word of complaint.
“See.” Hare nudged me with his elbow, grinning at my flummoxed expression. “Find someone’s weakness and you can get them to do anything.”
Chapter 28
My hands ached from scrubbing the pile of clothes clean in the bathtub with a brush and soap. All the magic they had here, but some things hadn’t advanced past the 1800s. Hare said places in vill
ages had more advanced systems, but country life was bare bones up here.
With a heavy exhale, I sat back on my heels, stretching my painful muscles. Pen sat next to me singing and playing with the packages of soap as if they were Matchbox cars. He was as close to a stereo as I was going to get, but his constant humming did little to distract me from my thoughts.
Four sleeps had passed, four endless nights. Or days. Who could tell? My tension mounted with every tick of the invisible clock. I felt my anxiety would break the next second, an avalanche crushing the last bits of my optimism.
Every sound, every breath of the warning wind, and my heart bobbed up my throat with hope Scrooge had returned. The disappointment each time I was wrong let more air out of me, like a wilting balloon.
Hare and I worked as a team, keeping the place functioning similar to a pair of wardens. Hare cooked and cleaned, which seemed to be around-the-clock duty with this group. He was already starting to ration our food supplies. I spent half my time yelling at Pen and Dum to go outside and let out some of their liveliness. Their bursting energy and constant singing were no longer cute but sliced at my nerves. Nick moped or went into fits where he yelled and screamed about things I did not understand.
The night before he woke up the entire house with a night terror.
“Noooooo!” A deep roar had splintered my dream, bringing me to my feet from the rug, fear thumping a heartbeat in my throat. I grabbed the knife I kept near me when the house slept.
“No! Please stop!” Nick jackknifed, sitting up on the sofa, his shouts shaking the house. “Don’t do this. Jessie.”
“What the hell?” Hare was at the rail above my head, his paw wrapped around the butcher knife he slept with. His eyes wide, his chest pumping from being woken from a deep sleep.
“Jessie! Jess-ie!” Nick bellowed, his cries wrapped with so much heartache and pain I could feel the agony shred my chest.
“Nick?” I yelled to him.
His head turned to me, but he was not there. Glazed eyes opened wider at seeing me. “Jessie?”
“Nick, wake up.”
“No! I’ll do anything. Just stop. Don’t do this!” Deep terror screeched from his throat, his expression a mask of horror.
“Gumdrops, what is happening?” Dum ran into the room straight for me, Pen right behind.
“Ms. Alice! Ms. Alice!” Pen waddled to me, hopping up and down at my feet.
Nick’s head moved, peering at a certain spot in the room. I knew whatever he saw was not here. His face crumbled and he let out piercing, gut-wrenching wails, shaking me down to my bones.
Pen began to squawk as Dum hopped around on one foot, going in circles, roughly drumming himself on the head, yelping in unison with Pen. The shrill sounds and chaos strung my muscles like a guitar, prickling tears behind my lids.
“Hare! Help me!” I didn’t know what to do or who to calm first. My instinct was to comfort Pen, but no one would quiet down until the source did. I moved to the sofa, Nick’s distress setting all my hair on end, my heart thumping against my ribs. He stared up at me with such bottomless grief that my throat closed around itself.
“Nick. Wake up. You’re all right.” I tried to soothe him, but it only invoked the fire. He batted at my hands, his words behind his cries undistinguishable. “Shhh. It’s okay. It’s only a dream.”
Pen and Dum howled louder. I bit down on my lip, feeling utterly useless. In crisis Dinah had always been the head of reason. She would know what to do, while I was the one flapping around and squawking.
Dinah wasn’t here. I was. Come on, Alice. Figure it out.
My gaze landed upon items on the coffee table, grabbing one in desperation.
Whack!
The empty bottle in my hand vibrated as it cracked against Nick’s temple. His screams halted in his throat; his eyes widened in shock before they closed and his body slumped back into the sofa. There was a pause before his chest pulsed evenly with breath.
The room was silent as my heartbeat thumped in my ears. Damn. I was really going to be on the naughty list for that.
“Hoolllyy shhiiitt!” Hare exclaimed, causing me to turn around. His eyes and mouth were wide with disbelief. My gaze darted to Dum and Pen, who also gaped at me, their fits ceasing in place.
“I-I know… I’m sorry… didn’t know what else to do.” I dropped the bottle on the floor, hearing it thud against the rug. Shame colored my cheeks and churned my gut.
“Are you kidding me?” Hare flung up his arms.
“I’m sorr—”
“That was fucking brilliant.”
“I just hit Santa Claus.”
“No, you hit Nick, who is equivalent to a fruitcake. Hard, dreadful, offensive, and someone no one wants around.” Hare shook his head. “I’m a bit jealous I didn’t think of it. I’ve been wanting to punch the guy for years.” Hare bounced up to me. “Can you wake him up so I can do it too?”
“No.” I scowled down at him. “Unquestionably, no.”
“What? You get all the fun? Come on, just once.” Hare batted his lashes, holding his paws together in a plea. “Just one itty-bitty hit?”
“Hare…”
“Fine. But next time.” He motioned to Nick. “I get to do it.”
“Let’s hope there isn’t a next time.” I moved back to Pen and Dum. “You guys okay?” I asked, lowering myself to them.
“Yes, Ms. Alice.” Pen hiccupped, diving toward my torso, his flippers curving around my sides in a hug. Dum wrapped his arms around my neck, tucking his head into my hair, needing a moment of comfort. I sighed, the stress ebbing slightly from my shoulders as their hugs calmed me.
“Come on, let’s get back to bed.” I led them into the guest room. Dee was sound asleep but had curled up on her side, which meant she was becoming aware again. Tucking them back in, Pen hummed a Christmas song until he fell asleep, Dum curled around his sister, finding slumber instantly.
On the way back to the living room, I peeked in on Rudy. His coloring had returned, his superficial wounds mending, but he still wheezed, which suggested his lungs weren’t fully back to being healthy. Maybe they never would be. There had to be a limit to what this magical mead-infused mistletoe did, which was the most important ingredient in the mead. And mistletoe didn’t grow anywhere around here. Nick was still pissed about that.
My gaze went to the figure on the bed outlined by the dim light from the fire down the hall. A sliver of brown eyes stared back at me, hooded heavily by lids trying to stay up. “Al-ice.” My name rasped through the dark room.
“You’re awake,” I gasped with surprise, happiness warming my chest like hot cocoa.
He lifted his hand weakly, reaching for me. Similar to a fishing line, my body reeled me to the deer man, taking his hand.
“How are you feeling?” I gently sat on the edge of the mattress.
“Alive.” His voice quaked with effort.
“That’s definitely a good thing.”
“Seeing you has made everything worth it.” The concentration of his words, his eyes on me, had me swallowing a parcel of nerves back down my throat.
“You need to rest. Your body is still recovering.” I started to rise.
“No.” His hand squeezed mine, his half-lidded eyes set on me with determination. “Not yet.”
“Do you need anything? Something to eat or drink?” I tried to release my hand to get him the glass on the nightstand.
“No.” He gripped tighter. “I just want you.”
An arrow of adrenaline pierced my chest, my gaze meeting his.
“Alice.” He licked at his dry lips. “I know why you are here.”
“What?” My head jolted back.
“It took me until my dying moments to see the obvious. I get it now.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You saw me.” He struggled to breath between each word. “No human, especially an adult, should have. But you did. The pull to follow me? It was what I felt to get to you here
.”
I gulped over the expanding lump in my throat. The fear rising was different from earlier, but my heart pounded just the same.
“Rudy, you need to rest. We can talk about this later.” I wiggled my fingers to loosen his hold on my hand.
“I have to say this now. You are all I’ve been dreaming about,” he replied objectively, like they were facts instead of emotions. “Your voice led me here. Kept me alive. You heard me without words as I heard you.” His lids shut, his throat bobbing with effort; a deep exhale melted him into the bed, his voice barely a whisper. “Alice. You are her…” He trailed off, his muscles going slack, his horns digging deeper into the pillows.
“Wait,” I blurted, needing to know more, my hands shaking his shoulders. “What do you mean I’m her. Rudy?” I tried to wake him, but it was pointless. Slumber had claimed him as if she were his master, cracking her whip like a spell.
Though I had been checking hourly, he had yet to wake up since his odd revelation.
“Ms. Alice?” Penguin’s voice had broken me out of my reverie, bringing be back to the present. To the laundry in my hand. To my aching body and wound-up heart. “Where is Mr. Scrooge?” Pen zoomed his soap over the floor, crashing it into another. “I miss him. He never leaves us this long.”
“I don’t know, Pen.” I brushed a strand of hair off my face, my shins aching from kneeling on the wood so long. The wind rattled the window, hissing through the cracks. It did it all the time, so I got used to ignoring its moaning and false warnings of doom. But today it seemed even more dramatic than normal. “I’m sure he misses you too and wants nothing more than to return to you.”
“And you, Ms. Alice.” Pen tossed the soap to the side, standing up. “He’d tell me not to tell you, but I know, Ms. Alice. I see how he looks at you.”
DESCENDING INTO MADNESS Page 22
