I glance over at Atlas and he smiles when he sees me looking. I ignore the way my heart flips, or at least, I try to.
My wings flutter at my back, leaving behind a trail of pixie dust behind us, but it’s not nearly as much as is embedded in Atlas’ skin.
When he’s not looking, I sprinkle just a little more over his head, and the result is beautiful.
Chapter Eight
THE MAD HATTER
I rub my forehead, attempting to force the madness back behind the door in my mind, but it refuses to do so today. I can hardly think straight. Not even my special tea is helping.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Clara murmurs, her hand on my thigh beneath the table.
I look up at her, my face twisting with the words I want to say. Instead, they come out in a rhyme. All the progress I’d made against my madness, wiped away by chaos. “How can you say such things when you’ve been outside? How can you know it’ll be okay when you see the rising tide?”
Clara frowns at me and leans closer, placing her hand against my cheek. “I know you’re fighting it, but there’s no reason to, Hatter. It didn’t bother me before. It doesn’t now.” She smiles. “When I’m stressed, my eyebrow twitches. Does that make you dislike me?”
“How could it? It’s cute,” I grumble, knowing where she’s going with it.
“Exactly.” She smiles. “It’s sexy when you rhyme. If we didn’t have things to tackle. . .”
“I know.” I look across the table, at the numerous creatures sitting for the tea party, and cringe. The majority of them aren’t even from Wonderland. I don’t know where they come from, where they keep coming from, but we’ve had sightings all over Wonderland. Creatures that are far more vicious than anything we’ve seen, people that have no business being in a magical world; wonder! We had a Jabberwocky the other day, but luckily, he had no prey and he seemed as confused as the rest of us. He quickly went on his way back through White’s door, but we don’t know which world we cursed his presence with again. The asshole didn’t even tell us which world he came from.
“Something is really wrong,” Clara murmurs, her eyes on an ordinary looking human sitting at the table who is looking at the stranger creatures in fear. “It’s like the dead from my world are somehow finding themselves at your table.”
I nod. “Something is happening. I’ve never seen this before.”
Clara stands and moves over to the ordinary human, placing her hand on his shoulder. The poor man whirls, panic on his eyes, but when he sees Clara’s kind eyes, he relaxes. I don’t blame him. If there was ever a better suited Empress of Wonderland than Clara Bee, I’d eat my hat. She’s everything a leader should be; kind, forgiving, strong-willed, ferocious when fighting for what she cares for. There’s really no one better, and it shows when she’s able to calm down the man enough to enjoy some tea before coming back towards me at the head of the table.
“He’s from Florida.” There’s clear worry on Clara’s face. “He said he remembers walking across the street, pain, and he woke up here. Hatter, I think he got hit by a car in my world.”
“But then, how did he get here?”
“That’s the million-dollar question,” she murmurs.
Before she can move to take her seat again, the doors of the tearoom burst open and two people come tumbling through. Even I jump at the sudden entrance, but it’s Clara who rushes forward, the long tails of her coat flying around her as she pulls the King Breaker free. I’m behind her a second later, sensing her unease even if I can’t see the two people rolling around on the floor. Clara stops at the end of the table, staring at the fight, and when she aims her gun at them, her hands shake.
I haven’t seen Clara’s hands shake in a long time.
But when I round the end of the table, I see why. The two people, neither are from Wonderland. One looks normal enough, probably from some other land with magic, but the. . .thing he rolls around with, is so foreign, I don’t know what to make of it.
“What is it?” Clara rasps, aiming at the creature. I don’t tell her she could be aiming at the wrong one. There’s an overwhelming sense of wrongness coming from the thing. The tentacles swirling around the poor soul it attaches to are tipped with sharp barbs that slam into the man repeatedly, but they should both be dead if they’re in my tearoom. I don’t understand why there’s blood smearing on my floor.
“I don’t know.” I draw my sword. Clara’s gun will do no good when they’re tangled around each other. “I don’t know what that is but stand back. I’m going to try and cut it off.”
“Be careful.” Clara backs away, keeping the King Breaker prepared in case I need her help, but she moves far enough to be safe.
I move closer, my sword lifted high, prepared to swing at the creature if I get the opportunity. The man screams as he attempts to shove the thing off him, but if he’s alive, he won’t be for long. At least he’s in the right place to die. The thing though, that I can’t be let loose in Wonderland.
“Kill it!” the man screams when he sees me hovering.
“If I swing, I’ll hit you, too.” I keep my voice calm in case it provokes the creature, but it takes no notice of me as it continues to attack the man.
“Just do it!” The thing wraps around of the man’s neck, sharp teeth I never saw clamping tight, and a wet gurgle chokes from the man’s throat, blood coughing up a second later. Though he can’t speak, his eyes tell me to swing, that he’s as good as dead either way.
Grimacing, I swing my sword down across the creature’s head and across the man’s neck, killing both with one blood. It lets out an awful shriek and falls still, the rooms descending into silence at the sudden loss of screams. I stare at the man, at the eyes still open in horror, at the tentacles still barely moving with the last live nerves.
“Clara,” I murmur, and she’s there, her hand circling my bicep. “We need to send out searches to make sure there’s no more of these creatures that came through. I don’t know what it is or how it hunts, but it’s dangerous.”
“It looks like something from a cheesy alien movie,” she murmurs, her face twisted in sympathy for the man dying. When he comes walking through the open doorway seconds later, it nearly startles me, though I should have been expecting it.
His eyes narrow. “Color me confused,” he grunts, looking around, his eyes finding his body.
“You and me both,” Clara murmurs. “Please, take a seat. I’ll explain everything in a moment. Help yourself to tea.”
“I don’t like tea.”
I gasp, covering my heart with my hand as I stare at the man in horror. “You don’t like tea? What kind of monster are you?”
“The kind that likes whiskey.”
“Come on, Hatter,” Clara says, tugging at me. “We should talk outside for a second.” She pulls me through the open doorway of the tearoom quickly. “I don’t know what’s going on, but. . .”
Something shifts in the air around us, and suddenly, we’re no longer in my house. I whirl, my sword held high, panic seizing me. What sort of sorcery is this? I grab Clara and tug her close as the swarm of people around us move, too close, too many. One moment, we were standing in the entry way of my house, and the next, we’re in the middle of a street. The noises assault my ears the same time as the wretched smells reach my nose, and I find myself cringing with the contrast. It coats my throat until it feels like I want to cough from the smog. No one pays us any attention. We get a few weird looks, but that’s the extent of it. It’s as if seeing two people dressed in strange clothing is a normal event here, but how can it be? Where the fuck are we?
“Hatter,” Clara whispers, her eyes wide. “I think we’re in New York City.”
I glance at her and wrinkle my brow, trying desperately to not take deep breaths. The air here is thick with pollution, nothing like the crisp air of Wonderland. “What?”
“This is Time Square.” She turns, looking at the dozens of screens on the buildings flashing with advertisements for
strange things and people talking. “I’ve been here before. Somehow, some way, we’re standing in Times Square in New York City.”
“That’s doesn’t make any sense,” I growl, turning in a circle. “How is this possible? We were just in my house!”
A group of kids come swarming around us, bouncing up and down. “Dude! Your costumes are sick! Can we take a picture?”
“Get lost!” I growl at the same time that Clara says, “sure”, and I’m grabbed by the heathens and held in front of some device. My face twists in a snarl before the kids clap me on the back and bounce off.
“Right on!” one of the kids screams and tosses me a piece of green paper. I point my sword at him in warning, daring them to touch me again. It doesn’t even affect them. They act as if my blade isn’t real, as if I’m just a harmless human. I stare down at the waded up green paper, the face of a man on it warped by the wrinkles, and hand it to Clara. I don’t know what it is, but she obviously does. She takes it and slips it away while I spin in a panic.
“Calm down, Hatter,” Clara chides, grabbing my arm and lowering it. “They think we’re just weirdos in costumes here.” She turns and looks up at one of the screens where a man talks. “Do you see that?”
“See what? I don’t even know what that is.”
Against all odds, even standing in a world we aren’t meant to be in, Clara laughs. “Sorry, I forget you’re not familiar with my world like White is. That’s the news. It’s like. . .it updates everyone on what’s happening in the world.”
“We need that in Wonderland.”
She nods. “Sure, if technology worked there, it would be great, but it doesn’t. Anyways, it’s saying there’s a bunch of strange things happening here.”
The screen flashes from a city in rubble, the word “earthquake” flashing across the screen, to a scene of more of the flying ape creatures we’ve been spotting in Wonderland.
“It says there’s flying monkeys in Australia, a newly discovered species,” Clara murmurs. “And an earthquake hit England.”
“Is any of that strange?”
“Neither one should be possible. Apparently, my world is experiencing the same things we are.” She looks up at me. “Hatter, I think we’re in a whole world of trouble.”
“Well,” I shrug. “It seems like a few worlds if we’re getting specific,” I point out.
Someone else asks for a picture and hands us more paper. “Your world is mad,” I grumble, and Clara laughs.
“Says the Mad Hatter,” she chuckles and turns. “Now, how do we get back to Wonderland?”
I purse my lips and stare at the news again. It flashes a scene of strange people standing in the middle of the street, calling the power that curls from their fingers ‘magic’, and I shake my head. “By any chance, do you know where we can find a rabbit hole?”
The faster we get out of this hellhole, the better.
Chapter Nine
“This will be a permanent solution,” I murmur, watching Swift closely. “When we find the door and exit through it, we won’t be able to return.”
Swift sits before me, his face as serene as ever. He’s always been my second-in-command, an extremely capable fighter, fierce when necessary, but what I lack in humanity, Swift somehow makes up for it. Somehow, each of the Daughters have someone they trust above all else in their groups, someone that easily fell into the role. For Wendy, it’s Smee, the First Mate full of life, strong, and willing to lay down his life for Wendy if necessary, though she’d never let him. For Tiger, it’s Bear, the man far too gentle with a child than you’d think possible after seeing the way he fights, the small hatchets he uses permanently smelling of blood. For me, it’s Swift, the fae who easily rips Lost to shreds, but still smiles at the smallest things. Each man is worth far more than a simple explanation, but it’s the best I can do right now. The other Daughters are speaking to their own people, each saying the same thing.
We will be leaving Neverland forever once we know how.
The rest of my people gather around us, sitting in the soil to give them strength the same as I am. It feels a bit like I should be reading a book to them for story time, but it’s our way of holding meetings. It puts us all at the same level, keeps us grounded.
My people shuffle quietly as I talk, a few wings rustling with emotions. “We’ve tried to find ways to save the land itself, but unfortunately, not only was it impossible before, it’s more so now with Peter gone. I believe there’s no way Neverland can continue as it is without Peter Pan. I believe it will die regardless of what we do. And that’s why we now have switched our plans from saving the land to finding Wendy’s door and leaving this place behind forever.”
“But where will we go?” someone asks. “Neverland is our home.”
“White has offered to take us to any world we’d like. We can go to Wonderland, or dozens of other ones available. We can go together, or we can split and go through different worlds.” I sigh. “I don’t pretend to know what to expect. Getting to Wendy’s door in the first place is going to be difficult, but once we get through, we can figure out the rest.”
Normally, there wouldn’t be options available when I’m speaking about plans, but I won’t force this on my people. I won’t force them to go to one place when they can go to another. Even if I end up a Queen of nothing, I’ll be okay as long as my people are safe, whether they’re with me or not.
For a moment, no one speaks, thinking over the words I’ve said. I know it’s a lot to process, though many had to suspect it. They all know Neverland is dying, but up until this point, we’ve been operating as if we can save it. Now, it’s evident we can’t.
Swift meets my eyes. “What if we don’t want to go?” There’s a hollowness to his expression I haven’t seen before and I find myself reaching out to take his hand, feeling his warmth. “What if we don’t want to leave Neverland?”
“Ultimately, it’s your choice,” I tell him. “But if you stay in Neverland, you will die. There’s no version of staying on Neverland and living, because the very heart flares and ebbs. I don’t know what will happen at the end. I don’t know how it’ll end, but it will end. Neverland can’t live without its blood. It can’t live without being fed.”
Another pixie further away nods her head. “I’ve lived a long life here. I have no desire to live in a place I don’t belong.”
A few others nod their heads, but it doesn’t affect me until Swift does, squeezing my hand. “I, too, will remain here,” he murmurs.
“What?” I choke. I’d been so sure he would go with me, that they’d all go with me. I hadn’t even considered the fact some might not want to leave.
“I’ve been alive for so long, Tink,” Swift murmurs. “Thousands of years, as long as you have, and I’m so tired of it. We should have died hundreds of times over, should have long since been buried.” He moves closer and circles my shoulders with his arm. “It’s time for me to die. Long overdue. And I’m ready. Besides,” he grins, “someone has to stay behind and take care of those here until it’s time to close our eyes for good, yeah?”
“You’re certain?” I rasp, staring at the fae who's been such a fixed part in my life all these years, I can’t imagine not seeing his smiling face at the most dangerous times.
Swift nods and for a moment, I wonder about the pirate Swift has been spending time with, the one who shares his happy thoughts. The pirate hasn’t lived as long as Swift. Will he be just as heartbroken as I am when he finds out Swift doesn’t want to leave?
I clear my throat. “In a few minutes, I’d like to sit with each of those who want to stay, not to convince you to leave, but to offer comfort and an ear.” I look up towards the Tribe and pirates getting a similar talk. “I must go see what the other Daughters say, and then I’ll be right back. Those planning on going through the door with us, you’re free to go.”
I stand and move towards the others, and they do the same, finishing up their talks. When their faces look as sad as mine
does, I know they must have heard similar words from their people.
“Some of the Tribe wishes to remain behind,” Tiger murmurs, her jaw clenching.
“It’s the same for us,” I murmur.
Wendy nods her head. “We also have a handful of our crews who wish to lay down their arms here at the end.”
I meet Wendy’s eyes, knowing she’ll care about Swift, knowing it’s going to pain her as much as it does me. The Sea Captain considers the fae a friend. “Swift has decided he wants to stay.”
Wendy’s face twists with the anguish of knowing she’s going to lose a friend. She holds in her tears, always so strong, but I know it rattles her. “This, I didn’t expect this,” she whispers.
“None of us did,” Tiger answers. “Old Mother wishes to stay.”
Wendy gasps. “What about Bear?”
“He said he isn’t finished being the best uncle he can be.”
Wendy blows out a puff of air in relief. “Smee didn’t answer me when I outright asked him. He said he doesn’t know.”
And that will destroy Wendy, even if she respects his choice. For a long time, Smee has been her best friend, more a friend than a First Mate. If he chooses to stay behind, it’ll be a loss we all feel, the first to think happy thoughts despite everything happening. Him and his lover have long been the only permanent couple in our world, until Wendy and Hook paired up, and now Tiger and the March Hare.
“I told my people I’d like to sit with them, the ones who wish to stay. Bring those of your people over who wish to stay, and we’ll sit with them together.” I don’t say the words as a command. It’s only an option, but Tiger and Wendy both nod and move back to their people, gesturing for those who want to stay to follow them. My eyes dance over those who stand, counting. Too many. We’re losing too many to this.
Wicked as a Pixie (Daughters of Neverland Book 3) Page 6
