Malice in Wonderland Bundle 3

by Lotus Rose

  Sleepy B points. “Are those for me?”

  “They sure are, dumpling,” the Storyteller answers. “I had this book enchanted just for you. It’s a neverending book full of stories that replenish once you read one. And it keeps your place and even glows in the dark while you’re reading, because I know you’ll be spending a lot of nights needing something to do.”

  It’s true, because Sleepy B doesn’t sleep anymore, since she’d been in a coma for so long in the past, that she can no longer sleep until she “runs out” of the sleep she’d stored up all those years.

  “That’s brilliant, Daddy!” She takes it from his hand and leafs through it. “I love it!”

  He holds up the gloves. “And these are more magic for you.”

  “Oh, goody! What do those do?” She hands the book to Humpty.

  The Storyteller says, “Now, I know you’ve been yearning for some claws, in addition to your fangs.”

  “Yuh huh!” Sleepy B exclaims, and she bares her fake fangs at him. “So’s I can be like Jabby!” She giggles and glances at the Jabberwock, who smiles back uncomfortably.

  The Storyteller says, “And I know how much you like the whole fingerless glove look.” He points to the non-magical pair Sleepy B is wearing at the moment. “So I had these gloves enchanted. “Now, you’ll have to practice, but when you wear these, you can extend claws out from your hands.”

  Sleepy B squeals. “That’s so amazing! Ooh, I’ve got to try them out!” She starts tugging off her gloves.

  Hatter says, “Um, should she really be allowed sharp objects?”

  The Storyteller hands the magic gloves over, says, “Now, I’m giving you these so you can defend yourself, if you need to. But you should always try to keep your claws retracted as much as possible.”

  “Uh huh,” Sleepy B says distractedly as she tugs the magic gloves on—she’d handed the non-magic pair off to Humpty.

  “And make sure you keep your hands pointed away from everyone,” Malice says.

  “Oh, crikey!” Sleepy B exclaims. “It’s not like they’re crossbows or anything. Speaking of which...I should be allowed to carry those as well.” She’s wearing the gloves now, pointing toward the ground. “How do I turn these on?”

  “No crossbow for you!” Malice blurts.

  The Storyteller says to Sleepy B, “Just think as if the claws are a part of your body, and you just want to extend them.”

  But instead of concentrating, Sleepy B seems to have been distracted, and she says, “Oh, I shall be needing a crossbow because there could be trouble, and Daddy said he’s not gonna use his powers to save us, right Daddy?... Okay, I shall concentrate now.”

  “But you’re inexperienced!” Malice protests. “You’ll end up shooting one of us in the back of the head!”

  Long, curvy brownish-black claws extend from Sleepy B’s fingertips, replacing her fingernails, causing the girl to squeal in delight. “They’re like jabberwock claws!” She holds them up to display to everyone.

  It’s true. Their claws look very similar.

  The Storyteller says, “Yes, I won’t be using my powers to help or save you—the story of your quest must be allowed to unfold naturally.” He glances at Sleepy B, who is showing her claws to the Jabberwock. “Which is why I can’t let her use her powers to alter the story, either. So if there’s danger, she may have to fight.”

  “But she’s an inexperienced child,” Hatter says.

  “A baby,” Malice clarifies.

  Sleepy B sticks her tongue out at her, but seems embarrassed by her impulsiveness. “Sorry,” she mutters. “I just want to help my team. And I have claws now, and jabberwock kids are taught how to use them at a young age, right Jabby?”

  “You’re not a jabberwock,” Humpty says.

  “My point is,” Sleepy B says, “Jabby can teach me. I should be able to defend myself.”

  “Yes, I can train her,” the Jabberwock says. “Teach her safety.”

  “Oh, very well,” Malice says while rubbing her temples. “Let’s just get going. But you’ll have to prove you can actually hit anything before I let you have a crossbow.”

  Hatter says, “Maybe a smaller crossbow for the wee lass... I’ll go fetch one.”

  “I’m not wee! I’m short!” Sleepy B exclaims and stomps her foot, which makes Malice wince—her pounding headache has gotten worse, and she’s in no mood for long goodbyes.

  Malice shouts, “Well get your short butt moving, because I’m tired of standing here and listening to you!”

  Sleepy B looks at her with her mouth hanging open in shock, and everyone is staring at her.

  And Malice realizes she’s ruined the sentimental, heartfelt departing moment.

  Malice apologizes, but things have now grown awkward, as they wait for Hatter to return with a small crossbow which he puts into his magic satchel with the shoulder strap.

  Hatter’s satchel happens to be enchanted with the same magic as Malice’s black dress—the magic allows them to hold much more than non-magical pockets or containers—and all while eliminating the bulk and weight of the stored items. This all allows their little team to travel light, while carrying numerous supplies, despite their lack of horses.

  Of course, Malice’s dress pockets are not big enough to store away her embarrassment and cringe-worthy disappointment in herself for losing her temper. She’s already starting to unravel, due to her withdrawing from the black rose.

  But what can she do? Cancel the quest? Not bloody likely.

  The Quest must go on.

  She watches Sleepy B and the Storyteller make their final goodbyes, watches the two hugging tightly—both are crying.

  Malice gnaws at her lip and fights back tears—so at least she knows her ticktock heart is still working. And she tries not to dwell on wishing that she had a father or mother of her very own to hug. She’s surprised that she manages not to cry, but now that she thinks about it, it’s been a long time since she has.

  Mercifully, the wistful moment passes, and the team: Malice, Sleepy B, Hatter, Humpty, and the Jabberwock set out on their quest. (The Cat still hasn’t shown up.)

  CHAPTER TWO

  THEY SET OUT ON THE path the Jabberwock recommends—through the forest, then into the desert area to the east of the wastelands, which they want to avoid, because that is where Dorothy resides. One advantage of the desert, he says, is that the region is flat, and with very few trees, so they’ll be able to see anyone approaching from far away. They’re concerned that Chief Dorothy might send someone after their group. Of course, they don’t know exactly who Chief Dorothy is or how powerful she is—the Tin Knight had only mentioned her briefly after trying to kidnap Malice.

  Unfortunately, there are some areas of their journey that can only be traveled by foot, which is why they’d forgone horses. The Jabberwock estimates it shall take seven days to get to Jabberwock Valley.

  Around noon, they stop next to a stream in the forest to eat the Cook’s delectable lunch of pheasant, cherry pie, and stew. They must cook the pheasant and stew on a campfire, and there can be no leftovers, since they don’t want the food to spoil. It shall be their last meal prepared by the Cook for quite a while, so they shall have to cherish it.

  Humpty and Hatter work at cooking everything on the fire. The Cat still hasn’t shown up, which Malice is grateful for, since it means he might miss the meal entirely, and not end up taking a portion of their food.

  Not that she’s in much of the mood for eating. Even though she still has a headache, it has lessened a lot, but she has no appetite, unless you count her “hunger” for black rose petals.

  Malice just really wants to be left alone as she sits on the side of a fallen-over tree, looking forlornly at the ground. The sound of Sleepy B and the Jabberwock’s laughter is like nails on a chalkboard to her, even though she knows it’s good they’re getting along and having fun.

  I just need to get over these withdrawals. Just one or two more days, tops. All I have to do is
hold on and make sure I don’t lose my cool. Oh no, here comes Hatty to bug me.

  He’s walking toward her, and unfortunately, he has one of those serious expressions—a “because he wants to talk” look upon his face.

  He sits next to her, says, “You look utterly wretched, love.”

  She peers intensely at her boot-clad feet. “I’m just not used to all this walking.”

  “Are you sure that’s the whole of it?”

  “I’m in a sour mood. Is there a reason you’re talking to me?”

  He grunts. “Very well. I wish to speak to you privately. Oh look, the lackadaisical Cat has decided to join us. It’s as if he can smell it.” He’s referring to the smell of the food wafting about.

  Malice glances up to see the back of the Cat’s floating head—he and Humpty are talking.

  “Indeed,” Malice says.

  Hatter says, “So may we speak a bit farther away?”

  “Certainly. Are you going to propose?” she teases morosely.

  “No,” he says, with his mouth in a tight line.

  Malice sighs, stands, smooths her slim black dress. She points at a group of trees. “Over there, then.”

  Humpty shoots them a questioning look, but Hatter gives a little hand gesture.

  They stand partially hidden behind one of the bigger trees.

  Her irritability causes her to glare at him, though she immediately regrets doing that. And now her ticktock heart kicks in, injecting her mind with sugary sweet thoughts, and she smiles sweetly at him.

  He peers into her eyes and leans forward. He scowls. “You shouldn’t be acting that way.”

  “What way?” She squirms beneath his gaze.

  “Bipolar,” he explains. “You haven’t been taking your black rose.”

  “So what? You used to nag at me for taking it, anyway.”

  He sighs and looks away.

  She tries to read the expression on his face. “But that’s not what you wanted to talk to me about,” she says.

  “No.”

  “Then what?”

  He looks back into her eyes, takes a deep breath to steel himself. “Us. I want to talk about us.”

  Malice giggles. “You’re so adorable when you’re flustered.”

  He shakes his head as if to shake it off. “Malice, this is serious. I want to tell you, that now that we’re on this quest, things are different.”

  “But you’ll always be my Hatty!” she says with a super-sweet, cutesy voice.

  He shakes his head again, and looks at the ground. “In the past, there have been some...indiscretions between us.”

  “You mean our kisses, cutie patutie?” A part of her wants to lash out at him about being so clinical about their intimate moments, but of course, her ticktock heart is countering those thoughts—in fact, it’s going overboard, which is why she was taking the black rose in the first place. It was prescribed as a medicine to keep her heart from overworking. Because when her heart works too hard, it tends to malfunction.

  Hatter fidgets. “Yes, I’m afraid we got a bit too familiar.”

  “So you regret those moments, wish they never happened...”

  “You’re making this hard for me.”

  “But you can’t pretend those moments weren’t special.”

  He sighs, seems at a loss for words.

  “Do you like me?” she says. “My personality, I mean. Don’t we connect with each other?”

  “I—” He pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “Sure I like you, perhaps a bit too much. There simply can’t be anything between us. The age difference between us is too great, and it’s simply inappropriate.”

  “But it’s not exactly the age difference, now is it? It’s that I’m too young.”

  He shakes his head, and she knows what he’s thinking—they’ve had this exact argument numerous times before.

  She prods... “So if I was only a little older...” She waits for his response—sometimes he acknowledges the possibility, other times he’s firmly discouraging.

  “Malice,” he says in a warning tone. “I’ve made my decision. There could be dangerous times ahead, so for the sake of our team, we both must not be distracted by such matters.”

  “Is caring and affection a distraction?”

  “So, for the duration of this quest, we shall henceforth interact in a professional, formal manner, My Queen.”

  Malice’s brow furrows. “Are we no longer friends?”

  He looks away. “I think we shouldn’t be too friendly. It shall only make things too difficult. Trust me, it shall be better if we keep our distance, remove temptation.”

  “So I do tempt you.”

  He huffs. “I am your servant. With time, we may become less formal, once we become more used to the new arrangement between us.”

  A part of her wants to shout at him, to make him stop being so detached and cold, but her heart keeps working hard to keep her thoughts sappy sweet. Instead of screaming, she says, “I tempt you because you have feelings for me. So, I’m young, yes, but I’ll grow older...”

  “Your Highness, you shan’t change my mind about this. For the rest of the quest, things shall be different between us, Your Majesty.”

  Malice wants to scream at him for calling her that, but her heart is working hard. She smiles sweetly at him. “Please, love...” She feels a fluttering, sputtering in her heartbeat, but doesn’t acknowledge it. Hopefully it shall pass.

  He shakes his head. “Please don’t call me that, My Queen.”

  “Then what?”

  “You may call me Sir or Hatter.”

  She scowls. She smiles sweetly. “You’re still my Hatty.”

  “Calling me that would be against my wishes, My Queen. No offense intended, but I must insist.”

  She feels her heart sputtering more wildly and a slight cold sensation spreading through her chest. “As you wish, Mr. Mad Hatter,” she says through gritted teeth.

  He nods. “Trust me, it shall be less painful for you this way.” He looks at her, but she averts her gaze, staring at the ground.

  I shouldn’t tax my heart any further. It needs rest to return to working properly.

  “Right,” Hatter says. “Well, I should attend to that delicious meal of ours.”

  Malice doesn’t reply. She feels her heart may be recovering—her chest doesn’t feel as cold.

  “Right,” Hatter says again. He starts walking back toward the campfire.

  Malice ducks her head out from behind the tree. She says to his back, just loud enough for him to hear: “How about I call you, ‘prat’?”

  He cringes, but doesn’t turn around.

  “Bollocks,” Malice mutters to herself.

  CHAPTER THREE

  MALICE STOMPS OUT TO the fallen tree where she’d previously been seated, determined to sulk until her heart is fully functioning again.

  Humpty grins at her as she sits down. She scowls at him.

  The Cat’s head zooms over to her. He’s the only cat Malice knows that floats in midair, only ever materializes his head, and can teleport. “Hiya, Queeny Weeny. Cor, why do you have such a sourpuss?”

  She crosses her arms. “Mr. Mad Hatter just had a ‘conversation’”—she makes air quotes— “with me. He says we’re no longer to be lovey dovey anymore.”

  “Ah, because of the age thing.”

  “Yes, because of the bloody age thing.”

  “So switch to the other boy until you’re old enough. Simple.”

  “Wouldn’t be surprised if he intends to give me a talk soon as well. And a lecture too, for good measure.”

  “Ah, another lecture about not gobbling down so much of the black rose?”

  She crinkles her eyes at him. “You know I ran out yesterday. You’re just being obnoxious.”

  “Aren’t I always?”

  “Yes, I was enjoying your absence. Now you show up to steal our food.”

  “And to boost morale.”

  “My morale is complete
ly sunk. I’m withdrawing hard. And I fear my heart may fail before the day is through.”

  “Oh, dear,” the Cat says, looking genuinely concerned as Hatter calls out, “The meal is ready. Let’s eat!”

  “You’ve got to tell me where I can get more black rose,” Malice whispers.

  “Even if I knew where—”

  “Cut the tripe!” she shouts, drawing the attention of everyone around them. But she waves a dismissive hand at them. She leans forward to more quietly say, “Surely you don’t want me to go mental right here in the beginning of Jabby’s quest. It could ruin everything for him. He’s your friend, right?”

  “Aye.”

  “Well, I’ll need some black rose soon, then. I can feel my heart beating quite sputteringly. I can’t go much longer.”

  “I apologize most profusely, My Queen. But my noninterference policy...”

  “Do it for dear Jabby’s sake.”

  “My Queen, I’m sorry, I can’t.”

  “You mean you won’t, you disloyal sod.”

  “I assure you, it vexes me greatly.”

  “Oh, be gone, you ungrateful leech. You shan’t be squelching any of our food, since you couldn’t be bothered to wake at the same horrid hour as the rest of us!” Too late, she realizes she’s been shouting at full volume. The Cat shakes his floating head at her and teleports away.

  “I say, what’s going on over there?” Hatter shouts.

  While, in encouragement of Malice’s words, Sleepy B shouts, “Hear hear!” She even raises her partially-gloved fist, and even pumps it. Malice briefly worries that the girl might unintentionally let her claws slip out, but that doesn’t happen.

  Malice’s mind is flooded with overwhelming affection for the girl, to whom she shoots a huge smile and a wink.

  Sleepy B draws back in a creeped out way. The girl’s standing in front of the Jabberwock, and a questioning look passes between them.

  Malice stands. “Silly billy! Don’t look so walloped. I love ya!” She starts walking over to them. “You’re like the little sister I never had!”