He walked into an inn and leaned on the bar, his eyes still brimming with tears. ‘One ale, please,’ Robin said, deflated. He checked his pockets and frowned. He had only three bronze coins left. Begrudgingly, he handed one to the barmaid and slurped his ale.
The walls were shades of brown, which were illuminated by the golden glow from hanging oil lamps. Chattering filled the room, along with laughing, singing, and cursing from when the occasional fight would break out. Robin walked over to a table of several muscular, bald men who were playing with a pack of cards. ‘May I?’ he asked.
‘Got many coins, boy?’ one man spat.
Robin nodded. ‘Don’t need many coins; I always win.’
The men laughed heartily and moved over, making room for Robin. ‘Big headed, this one,’ one said. ‘We’ll see what you’re made of, shall we?’
Three hours later, eight ales, and forty coins richer, Robin set off for the next town. He travelled on the back of a cart and covered himself with a grey blanket, which irritated his skin. The ride was bumpy, and the early morning dew coated the rich green hills and trees.
The driver stopped, and Robin jumped off. ‘Cheers, friend.’ He tossed the man a coin for his trouble and headed straight for the witch’s house.
Robin would never have thought to visit a witch in his life, but things were different now. He knew magic was real, and he couldn’t fight it himself. Surely, the best way to fight magic was with more magic?
His heart steadied as he rapped on the witch’s door three times. The rickety door swung open, and Robin was pleasantly surprised. She had long, wavy ash blond hair that was as wild as her flaming green eyes. Her diamond-shaped face suited her petite nose and thin lips. ‘Come in,’ she said lightly and beckoned him into the living room.
The room looked the same as any other, apart from the coffee table, which was covered in crystals and cards. ‘I need your help.’
‘They always do.’ She laughed, cackled even, and sat on the floor in front of the table.
Robin sat across from her and looked down at the array of crystals, cards, pendants, and symbols. She smiled and shuffled a pack of cards, took a deep breath, and laid out three. Robin gazed into her emerald eyes and was entranced. She looked distant as if her body was here, but her soul on a whole new plane.
‘You require help to win back the Forest of Sherwood and kill the doctor’s daughter,’ she breathed.
Robin remained quiet, as it sounded more like a statement than a question, and let her continue.
‘You will need to travel far …’ She slowed her breathing and looked down at the cards. ‘The object you require to do so is a sword, the Sword of Souls.’
‘Where is it?’ he asked impatiently.
Her eyelids fluttered closed. ‘Wonderland.’
‘Where the hell is that?’
She pressed her lips together and opened her eyes. Her green orbs had turned into swirls of grey, dancing in her eyes. As if a film were reflecting into them, he saw a young woman in a blue dress, then a smiling cat, and then a queen dressed in red with a chest and a sword, and finally, a set of eyes peering out from the dark … She jolted, and her eyes turned back to normal. ‘Sirens will tell you where to go; go to them and find the young woman.’
‘What’s her name?’
She smiled as if she knew a secret that he didn’t. ‘Alice.’
###
Becca Alexandra is the author of Young Adult fairytales and fantasy.
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Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
AS COLD AS SNOW
MIRROR ON THE WALL
THROWN TO THE WOLVES
MAKE A WISH
CHAPTER TWO
INTO WONDERLAND
Journey to Neverland (Haunting Fairytales Series Book 2) Page 17
