The Enchanting

by Rebekah Lewis

  Mortimer cocked his head to the side to take her measure, then turned his head the other way and studied her some more. "Is she a friend to Cadence?"

  "Aye."

  "Very well," the gryphon stated with finality. "Continue your travels, and give the queen my regards." As the gray creatures turned to head back into the clouds, Mortimer added, "Heed my words: should you remain in this land, findling, respect all gryphons you cross paths with. Show fear or rudeness, and it will be your last mistake. Do you understand?"

  April nodded, eyes wide.

  "Good." Mortimer joined the others, disappearing from sight into the clouds as quickly as they appeared.

  "Um, that was terrifying." How often did people cross paths with Gryphons if they didn't go to the island?

  The Jabberwock chuckled as Marchy squeezed her for reassurance and whispered, "You'd rarely encounter one unless on this coastline. If one traveled farther inland, they would have sought an audience with the Red Queen since Cadence saved Mortimer's life from the former queen, and she's taken them on as part of her coat of arms. She's the only person in all of Wonderland they trust implicitly." His lips skimmed the back of her earlobe as he added, "And I'd keep you safe from them should they visit while we were at court."

  Heat coursed through her, despite the chill of the air this high above the trees. Regardless of the outcome of Wonderland's test, she would sleep with Marchy tonight. As the time passed, the more she longed to stay and see what life would bring her, but she worried he would grow bored of her after taking her to bed. He claimed he found no real joy in being with the other women, but could they have been words to ease her mind?

  Still she wanted, more than anything, to be intimate with him. Maybe she was as mad as everyone from Wonderland appeared to be in the books and movies of her world.

  They flew over the vast Tulgey Wood, spotting a Jubjub bird of varied colors, a dozen or so borogoves chasing each other through the tops of purple-leaved tree branches. Then a huge pink tree came into view and Marchy said, "The Tumtum tree. It's the only one in all of Wonderland."

  "Where my father was slain by the current Red King." Reythor's voice filled with sorrow.

  "I'm so sorry," April said, shocked that Gareth would do such a thing. He seemed like such a decent guy.

  "Thank you," Reythor said. "It was a horrible misunderstanding. A true tragedy."

  "He didn't know better," Marchy whispered. "A bounty was on the creature, and he was unaware it could speak like other citizens. Hunting creatures who can speak words is considered one of the worst offenses. If he had known, he never would have sought it out that day. It's his deepest shame."

  They flew in silence for several minutes until a crumbling stone wall could be seen through the trees as well as the distant outline of mountain peaks surrounded by mist.

  "Wow." She didn't know what else to say. Wonderland was truly beautiful with fragments of scary creatures and places mixed in. A pure fantasy world and she was here, seeing it with her own eyes. If she stayed, she wanted to experience it all from the ground. Maybe not Gryphon Island though.

  "This used to be the Black Kingdom." Marchy quickly pointed to castle ruins as they began to appear before holding her waist again. "Heart Castle and it's topiary labyrinth—now decades overgrown."

  It looked the stuff of nightmares. The castle was in disrepair and the labyrinth had very little left to show it had once had paths cutting through it. Part of her ached to explore it, but the other thought it must be haunted by ghosts of the Queen of Hearts' victims. Were ghosts real in Wonderland? She'd seen enchanted teapots, people who had animal features, was riding on the back of a dragon, and was on an island that apparently vanished and reappeared in different locations the way Devrel did. She didn't rule anything out.

  "This is now my home, though we live in the Forgotten Mountains up ahead," Reythor said, more cheerfully now that they had gotten far past the site of his father's death. "Some of the citizens of the other kingdoms have returned to the nearby village, should you like to visit."

  "I would like that," she said, though she honestly wasn't sure she wanted to sleep anywhere close to that castle. A river flowed around it, and she swore she saw a mermaid dive beneath the waves as they passed. April watched and waited for her to reappear, but she never did.

  Maybe there actually was something to the thought she'd had earlier about sirens and The Odyssey.

  They traveled in silence through the Forgotten Mountains until they came upon another beach, this one with a small peninsula. As they moved closer, various bits of shipwrecks showed above the waves, the Greek epic poem still on her mind. "Let me guess…Shipwreck Cove?"

  "How'd you know?" Marchy chuckled. "There used to be a skeleton stuck in that crow's nest over there for years and years. It finally got washed out to sea."

  April shuddered.

  Flying back overland, they soon reached a clearing past the end of the Tulgey Wood, and in the distance, she spotted two cottages with a huge table under a pavilion in the field behind one of them. Was that…? Awe coursed through her. This was the scene of literature's most famous tea party. It was real. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as emotion unexpectedly hit her. She'd been in Wonderland for two days, knew the Red Queen—both of them—and heard tales of the other two. She'd seen a Cheshire cat and made out with the man who, though she'd never call him by the name to his face, was the actual March Hare from the stories. But seeing the table where the mad tea party Alice stumbled upon with her own two eyes…it really sank in. It was real.

  It was all real.

  "Ah, there's Hatter's house, his tea table. And that smaller house is mine." Pride filled Marchy's voice. The buildings weren't big, but not shacks by any means. They looked cozy and homey.

  Emotion continued to overtake her. The two cottages called to her, looking inviting and welcoming and almost as though she'd known them her entire life despite never seeing them. The table, she discovered as they came closer, was actually made up of various tables of different shapes and sizes. The chairs were mismatched as well. Lanterns, unlit now, hung in the few trees surrounding the pavilion. While no food filled the table, stacks of decorative cups and serving trays covered its length. A brass tea cart rested at the end of the table, empty at the moment.

  "I love it," she said finally. "Oh, Marchy. You and Hatter have such lovely homes."

  "Thank you," he said, hugging her affectionately as they passed over the cottages she hoped to see more of if she stayed. And soon they encountered another small village followed by a larger town with an open marketplace. After that, a third castle of light bricks with white rose bushes all around.

  The White Kingdom.

  And yet, it seemed as quiet and unlived in as Heart Castle. No one but the guards stood out among the gardens. Even they seemed sad. The air felt sad. Heavy. Foreboding.

  The Jabberwock spoke up, "I fear the King must be doing worse. The White Kingdom is usually full of life. It saddens me to see it so empty."

  "I hope he gets better," April said.

  "I'm sure he will," Marchy replied, though he didn't sound altogether convinced.

  As they followed a winding river Marchy had called the Stream of Consciousness, they reached a grand lake with a small island set in a wide cove. On the island, the plant life was larger than any of the trees they'd encountered prior, and most were blooming into giant flowers. The Jabberwock stopped far from the island to let her look.

  "Aren't we going closer?" She squinted, trying to see against the sunlight from their distance.

  "The flowers can be deadly if you venture there without the Red or White Queens accompanying you," Marchy said. "They act as judge, jury and executioner in Wonderland, and almost always believe a party guilty of a crime they care not to learn about."

  "Yikes." She'd rather go to Gryphon Island if given the option between the two.

  "Exactly."

  The sun was setting as Reythor returned them to the castle
in the Red Kingdom. It was time to start getting ready for the masquerade ball, and butterflies erupted in her stomach while she smiled down at Marchy as he helped her off the Jabberwock's back. He held her close, feet off the ground for longer than was necessary. Desire swam behind those dark depths of his eyes, and April hoped beyond hope that Wonderland knew what was in her heart.

  Because, right then, in that moment, she never wanted to let Marchy go.

  Chapter 8

  Marchy stood in front of the mirror in his room and straightened the crimson jacket that completed his all-red attire. When satisfied there were no wrinkles—not that Hatter would ever fail him by giving him a less than perfect outfit—he picked up the matching top hat and slid it over his head, his ears poking through the slots cut to allow them freedom. A white domino mask covered his face around his eyes, stark against his darker skin. He'd tied his long hair back with a black ribbon.

  Hawthorne chittered at him in approval.

  Aye, Marchy was pleased with his appearance, though he never could conceal his identity at a masquerade due to his ears giving him away. Tonight, however, he wanted to be recognized by one person in particular.

  He never thought he'd see the day that there was a woman who intrigued him enough to attempt a relationship. Of course, everyone suspected he'd already bedded her. The whispers had reached his ears as he delivered the garments Hatter had left behind. Usually, he'd be panicked by such talk. Instead, he was merely annoyed people were gossiping about April.

  And she hadn't been scared off by his cottage, smaller than even Hatter's, on the outskirts of the villages in the White Kingdom. The thought of her touching his things didn't bother him. The idea of being seen with her didn't cause anxiety.

  "Hawthorn, I think I finally understand Hatter and Gareth. All this time, I thought them fools when it was I who was the fool."

  The dormouse squeaked.

  He smiled at his small companion. "I know, I know. I'm turning into the very lovesick ninny I teased Hatter for being."

  Marchy had lasted the rest of the afternoon and evening without laughing. Part of it, he suspected, was due to April. She calmed him—when he wasn't stressing out over everything around them. Perhaps, after tonight, Wonderland would see that she made him a better man.

  Please, don't take her away from me.

  A knock sounded at the door and Hawthorn scampered up Marchy's arm to his shoulder, then dropped down into his front pocket on his jacket as the door opened and Gareth stuck his head in.

  "You clean up nicely." Gareth, also decked out in red, had left his shoulder-length blond hair loose about his shoulders and wore a black half-mask. On his head, the crown he hated to wear except for special occasions resided. A gold sword at his side had garnets encrusted in the hilt.

  "I could say the same to you."

  "Are you ready to see our ladies? Cadence and April are already in the ballroom."

  A fluttery feeling in his gut gave Marchy pause. Why was he so nervous all of a sudden? "Aye."

  He followed Gareth through the long, twisting corridors and stairwells of the castle until, at last, they entered the ballroom. Couples were dancing and laughing as the musicians played a cheery melody. Marchy cared not for any of that. Instead, he craned his neck about, looking for the woman who was quickly laying claim to his heart. Hawthorn retreated from his pocket and scampered down his arm onto a table and disappeared. Probably to join up with his partner in crime.

  "Marchy?" The question, asked in a soft, feminine voice, warmed him and eased his nerves. He turned to face April, and the sight of her stole his breath away.

  She'd been gorgeous wearing the clothing from her world, but the dress Hatter had adjusted for her only enhanced her beauty. The deep red material's corseted bodice left her shoulders bare, and it was hard not to notice how the garment showcased her breasts. The skirt flowed out from her hips in delicate layers of silk like an upside down rose. And when she took a step forward, the layers moved, revealing a flash of her leg, all the way up to her thigh and ending in an equally red shoe with a moderate heel.

  He gulped. It wouldn't be out of the question to assume Hatter had chosen this gown to tempt him if he was fool headed enough not to have realized his feelings for April before now. As it was, though, all he could think about was getting her into his bed. Her hair, loose around her shoulders, had been curled and made him want to run his hands through it. Her lips, painted to match her dress, begged to be kissed.

  April's brow creased with concern as she gripped his arm. "Are you okay?"

  "I'm quite well." How did one tell a woman she was so beautiful that the desire to pick her up and carry her to the nearest bedchamber was damned near overwhelming? As the song being played ended, another one began. "Care to dance?"

  She stared at his offered elbow and then glanced up to his face. She hadn't worn a mask, and that fact satisfied him. Nothing should ever cover that beautiful face, and he wanted to look his fill in case… In case…

  In case this is the last night I ever see her.

  A lump formed in his throat and he fought it back as her blue eyes widened and she said, "I don't know how to dance."

  He grinned. "Lucky for you I'm rather good at it. This dance is simple enough to walk you through."

  April hesitated but watched the couples twirling about the floor. Whether she decided it would be fun or that the moves weren't overly complex, he didn't know. But she took his arm and allowed him to lead her to the middle of the room. When there, he positioned her hands and began to whisper the steps as he spun her around. After a few tries, her look of determination changed to delight. Her smile pierced him. Her laughter hooked him deep.

  Marchy lost all sense of time as he stared into her eyes. He wanted her, and damn it, why couldn't he have her? "Sneak away with me," he said.

  She didn't even hesitate, blue eyes gleaming with mischief. "Where to?"

  "My room…or yours."

  A faint blush stole across her cheeks. "Why, sir, are you propositioning me?"

  He pulled her closer to him and the evidence of his desire could no longer be hidden.

  "Oh!" She nibbled her lip and glanced around. No one paid them any attention. It was now or never. If they stayed too long, someone was bound to wish to talk to them and they'd never leave.

  "Sneak away with me. We can come back after…or stay. It's up to you."

  April's heart beat fast in her chest as Marchy pulled her through the corridors by the hand, the two of them giggling like teenagers creeping under the bleachers at a football game. When he turned back to grin at her, her breath caught. He was so handsome. Not even the mask he wore could hide that fact. There was nobody else in the world like him, and the only time his eyes lit up like they were now in the moonlight was when he looked at her.

  Voices echoed somewhere up ahead and Marchy spun her into a dark alcove. He pressed her gently against the wall and stared down at her. He leaned over and captured her lips as whoever had been heading to the ball passed them without stopping. April wound her arms around Marchy's shoulders and moaned lightly against his lips. He was so warm, so masculine, and she wanted him more than she probably should.

  He broke their kiss, much to her dismay, bending to scoop her into his arms. She gasped at the sensation of being swept off her feet, in both the figurative and literal senses. This had to be a dream. Stuff like this happened in fairy tales, not real life. But as Marchy carried her through the winding corridors, the sensation of butterflies flitting through her stomach reminded her this was real life. At least for tonight.

  Don't think about that.

  Marchy shifted her in order to open the door, then carried her into her room. The part of her brain who liked to ruin things wondered if he had chosen her room over his because of recent conquests. She knew about his past. She knew. But men like that never changed their ways really… Did they?

  Are you trying to talk yourself out of what you want?

  Her mind was
nothing but inner arguments sometimes.

  "You're thinking entirely too much," he said as he set her on the bed. He left her momentarily to shut the door and turn the lock. When he faced her, he removed his top hat and set it on the bureau. "Are you second guessing? I'm aware of my past too, so I wouldn't blame you if you did." One of his ears twitched.

  April leaned up on her elbows and kicked off her shoes, which landed with two thunks on the floor. "You said you'd give us a chance. It is how things work. I take a chance on you, and you take one on me."

  Marchy removed his jacket and her gaze latched on to his movements. He folded the garment once and draped it over a chair near the door. Then he removed his mask, tossing it beside his hat. It had left small creases around his eyes where the edges had been but didn't distract from his handsome face in the least. His jawline made her want to trail kisses down every inch, exposed to her fully now with his hair tied back. Clean shaven, he had the bone structure of a model encased in smooth, mahogany skin, and it seemed almost criminal to be as handsome as he was.

  "Well then," he said, snapping her out of her reveries of his masculine beauty. "I guess I'll have to demonstrate how committed I am to trying."

  April trembled at the promise given in his deep timbre. Watching with bated breath as his cravat and waistcoat joined his jacket on the chair. "You might spoil me. If I stay, that is."

  His eyes darkened, thick with intensity as he moved close enough to kiss her. Raw passion ignited between them. Hunger. Desire. Need. He pulled back, breathlessly. "If your heart wishes to leave me after tonight, I'll know I didn't try hard enough."

  Tears pricked at her eyes, and she reached for him, but he danced out of her grasp, working the buttons on his shirt. "Marchy…" Her voice came out raspy. "If I don't stay, it isn't your fault. It's mine."

  "Gareth lost Cadence after a night much like this one. His sexual prowess couldn't keep her here."