Through the Maelstrom

by Rebekah Lewis

  Well, if Gareth wants one more chance, than by all means... "Romanticism is a waste of time. A myth. Why pursue it?"

  "I didn't say you had to believe in it."

  Love didn't impress him. If he couldn't hold it in his hands, mend it, shape it, design it, then...it didn't exist. Nothing he couldn't create for himself had substance, nor had he the time for it. Hatter studied Devrel and asked, "Why do you think Wonderland would allow a second chance?"

  "Alice did it."

  The cat seemed determined to push her name into the conversation. Alice. The girl who'd fallen down the rabbit hole and shook up their realm. She'd somehow managed to enter twice when she stumbled across one of the looking glass entrances. Hatter had been young then, a boy of four and ten the first time, merely two years older than she. He'd been intrigued by her, but...she'd left.

  Twice.

  He pushed his emotions back behind the walls he'd constructed to contain that particular subject and bit out, "Alice found her way on her own and still couldn't stay. You brought the findling here."

  "I can't bring her the same way twice. I've tried. She doesn't even see me when I cross realms now, no matter what I do or try to say to her. Alice had nothing here to bind her, but Cadence does. If she returns for Gareth, mayhap she will stay."

  Hatter contemplated this as he collected his teacup and strode from the room. Nothing to bind her here, had she? Bah! Alice had friends here. She could have had all she dreamed of and more. On her second venture, he had been one and twenty and she nine and ten. He'd asked her to stay with him, had kissed her and she had reciprocated with interest, but it hadn't been in the cards.

  Wonderland chose carefully when it allowed someone to stay. Sometimes it made sense, other times it seemed completely mad. Alice hadn't wanted it enough. Which meant, no matter how much affection Cadence had for Gareth, it hadn't been strong enough either. Love was merely an over-romanticized notion, not some powerful force creating happy endings wherever it dared to venture. Once he had believed in such a thing. No longer.

  Devrel followed as Hatter wove through the twisting turns of his home and out the back door. Under a pavilion, four tables of varied sizes and shapes with differing patterns of table cloths draping them were pushed together and scattered with teapots and snacks of all sorts. A man sat at the place setting next to Hatter's chair at the very end, stirring a cup of tea with lazy strokes of a long-handled spoon. Atop his head, two brown rabbit ears poked through his hat, only a few shades darker than his skin, but lighter still than his hair. Despite the ears, the rest of his body was like any other man. Harold March came from a family of halflings. All of them bore an animal characteristic, but none shared the same one.

  "Marchy." Hatter nodded as he picked up a steaming pot of tea and poured himself a cup. Replacing the pot, he lifted the porcelain to his lips, paused, turned to Devrel, and then offered the cup to him instead. Marchy said nothing, but stroked the neck of the sleeping dormouse beside his cup with his fingertip.

  "No thanks." Devrel hopped into an armchair across from Marchy and sighed contentedly as he sank into the contours of the cushion. "I need you to speak to the rabbit."

  Marchy sat bolt right in his chair. "Who're you calling rabbit, beast?"

  Devrel hissed, startling the dormouse awake, who took one wide-eyed glance at Devrel and scurried into Marchy's jacket pocket. Marchy patted the pocket to comfort him.

  "Not you, the White Rabbit."

  As Marchy guffawed at the notion, Hatter furrowed his brow. "No one simply talks to the White Rabbit. He retired after the tyranny of the Queen of Hearts and only shows up to social events when he pleases." The Red Queen had defeated and executed the former monarch for the many crimes she'd committed, one of which had been exterminating Devrel's entire family because the Boojum who'd befriended Alice had made a mockery of her. The White Rabbit had distanced himself from everyone since, and the whispers surrounding his disappearance claimed he was ashamed of being too afraid of losing his head to leave the queen's service. Instead, he lived in solitude to atone for his inaction.

  "Yes, but he has always liked you. Me, not so much. If I ask, he won't listen. If you do, he might."

  Liked was a strong word. Rabbit merely tolerated anyone. "You want him to create a portal to the findling's land. Anything can happen. Anyone can enter before the portal closes. What if you catch the wrong person? What's next, are you going to tamper with time as well?" Hatter could list the various ways it could go terribly wrong, but he wouldn't.

  "Not too much time should have passed yet, so no need to tamper with that. Besides, time tampering is illegal. As for random findlings toppling in—that is a risk I'm willing to take." Devrel stared into his cup as he stirred the amber liquid with an extended claw. His grin seemed strained.

  Marchy sipped calmly at his tea, glancing between the two of them, before adding, "Sounds like an awful lot of trouble to bring a girl through. I say let the Red Queen choose his bride and be done with it. Brides aren't important so long as they perform their duties."

  "Which explains why no female dares to be caught alone with you, Harold." Devrel said, folding his ears back.

  "It's more fun to risk being caught and getting away with it." Marchy chuckled.

  Hatter rolled his eyes. His friend was ever the cad, but a good man. Unfortunately, Devrel had a point. In Wonderland, being caught intimately with a woman ended in marriage. Marchy seemed to enjoy risking his neck, so to speak. Hatter was too busy for such pastimes. He'd meddled with females before, but ultimately it never suited him. He no longer allowed his mind to dwell on it.

  Rapid twitching of Devrel's tail drowned out the rest of the noise, a metronome in time with the steady beat of Hatter's own heart. If Wonderland did not want Cadence, she would only give Gareth false hope upon her arrival. It would be foolish to consider anything impossible though. Devrel, an impossible cat with an impossible grin, believed Cadence deserved a second chance, as ill-fated as it may be. Damn his soft heart, but he would help. Even without the buttons, thimbles, and patch, which he would collect afterward.

  About the Author

  Rebekah Lewis holds a Bachelor of Arts in English Literature. She is also an award-winning cover artist for digital publishers and enjoys every minute of it when not immersed into the worlds of satyrs, Greek gods, and Cheshire cats. Always feeling the need to stay productive, she can be found creating something with words, images, or crafts. She currently resides in Savannah, GA with her cat, Bagheera.

  Visit her website to stay up to date on recent and upcoming releases and events, and to find links to follow her on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and Pinterest. She also has a newsletter to make staying updated even easier!

  www.Rebekah-Lewis.com