“And Absalom?”
“Still purging.”
“Dammit,” Clara mumbles, before turning towards the house. “Cheshire! Get out here please! We’re going on a trip.”
The entire time, I watch the exchange, wiping at my face to clean the tear tracks and fix my hair. No doubt, I look like I went a round with the forest. I crinkle my brows when I notice a shimmering on the chair. Slowly, a shape begins to form, misty and incorporeal, until a man appears out of nothing. He’s good-looking, dressed in leather, lounging there as if he’s doesn’t have a care in the world. What really gets my attention are the cat ears on his head and the tail swishing around against his leg. Holy shit. I’m looking at the Cheshire cat. He wears a mask of boredom on his face as he looks at Clara.
“You rang?” he says, and then his eyes fall on me, and that famous grin spreads across his face. “Hey there, Cheddar Bush.” I stiffen at the derogatory term. “You must be White’s prophecy.”
“We need to take Jupiter to March’s,” Clara interrupts, shooting Cheshire a glare. “But the Bandersnatch are likely guarding it.”
“What does that have to do with me?” he asks, studying his nails. They look wicked-sharp from my position. I wonder for a moment how much of a cat he is, if he transforms like White.
“We need you to do your thing.” I almost expect Clara to say “duh!” after that sentence. It sounds like she implies it.
“It’s not a party trick, Clara Bee,” Cheshire growls.
“This is a matter of life or death, Chesh. If Jupiter doesn’t have the whole story, she can’t find the Red Queen’s weakness, and we won’t be able to save White.”
“Where is White anyways?” he asks, glancing around, noticing for the first time that he’s nowhere to be seen.
“The Bandersnatch just took him. Literally a minute ago.” I cross my arms over my chest in annoyance.
“So, we need you to help us. Please?” Clara gives Cheshire the best puppy dog eyes I’ve ever seen on a grown woman. I’m interested to see how it works on a cat.
Cheshire rolls his eyes.
“Fine,” he relents, and Clara smiles. “But I can only take two with me.” He raises his eyebrows expectantly.
“I’ll go,” both Hatter and Clara speak at the same time.
I don’t even turn my eyes to them, instead, watching Cheshire lounge on the chair without a care in the world. His tail twitches faster, his ears laying flat against his head, just as expressive as a cat.
“I’m the first, Hatter. I have to support Jupiter,” Clara argues.
“And I don’t want you to be without protection.” For the first time, the Hatter’s voice sounds like whiskey to me, and I can suddenly understand what Clara sees in him. He wears just as much leather as the others, but there’s a madness to him that I feel rather than see. It’s enough to make me wary even if White told me to trust him. The Hatter’s eyes are filled with worry and panic over his mate leaving his side. I don’t know the whole story about what went on between them before I got here, but it’s clear they’re in love. My heart squeezes at the thought.
“Cheshire will be there.”
Hatter snorts at Clara’s statement. Cheshire doesn’t look offended, just mildly interested.
“He’d sooner leave you to die than protect you.” I doubt that. Cheshire watches Clara like a hawk as well as the Hatter. I don’t get any notes of romantic notions in there, but it’s clear the cat cares for her in some way.
“Fine, I can protect myself then.”
I tune out the rest of their argument, instead taking a step towards Cheshire where he sits. His eyes immediately flick up to me, that grin spreading again.
“See something you like, Cheddar Bush?”
I scrunch up my nose at his words and slide another knife free from my belt.
“Call me Cheddar Bush one more time, Cat, and I’ll gut you.”
Cheshire laughs. I tense when his eyes slit like a cat’s before switching back to a normal electric-blue color.
I’m tempted to throw the knife on principle.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Cheshire hasn’t moved, still lounging in the same chair, the same bored look on his face as before. Clara and Hatter finally decide on who is going–Clara–and who will be staying behind–the Hatter. Hatter seems extremely upset over the fact that Clara is going without him, but he also begrudgingly admitted that Clara is a badass. Those were his exact words, ones I’m sure Clara worked tirelessly for him to use.
As soon as they figured it all out, Clara tried to explain the “thing” that Cheshire does. She’s never done it herself, but she’s seen it in action. Unfortunately, her explanation is that Cheshire disappears from one spot and reappears in another. There’s no other explanation for it, and when I look at Cheshire for more details, he corrects “disappearing” with “fading”. Apparently, it’s imperative that we go see March before anything else. Clara insists on it, so I don’t argue too much, even if in the back of my mind, I’m imaging all the possible things the Red Queen could already be doing to White.
Cheshire is going to fade us to March’s cabin from here, exactly how he had appeared in front of us. I’m a bit unnerved, even if crazy curious, to think about disappearing from one spot and appearing in another. It seems very close to teleporting. When I mention that, everyone kind of chuckles. I notice no one corrects it, though.
“Does this work between realms?” I ask as I strap more knives to my hip. The Hatter had brought out a whole bucket full and a belt for me to store them in. “Like can you do this between here and my Earth?”
Cheshire shakes his head.
“I can only do it in the realm I’m in.”
“Good to know.” I finish strapping the knives and straighten up. “So, let’s do this thing.”
Clara steps forward and gives me a reassuring smile.
“March is a bit . . . unsettling to see at first but once inside his cabin, it changes.”
“Interesting.” I tilt my head to the side, contemplating what Clara told me. I’m curious to see what she means. There are so many things I don’t understand in Wonderland, and I’d love to study it all at some point, once our lives aren’t in such danger, of course.
“Also,” Clara adds, “He’s completely insane. Just bear with me, okay?”
“Why do we have to go to the March Hare anyway for me to learn about the Red Queen?”
“March is the Keeper of Memories,” Hatter answers.
I raise my brow at him.
“Is that smart if he’s insane?”
Hatter frowns and looks down at me.
“You don’t have to be sane to remember.” His voice is solemn, before he steps up to Clara and slides a wicked-looking gun into a holster at her side. I can’t place the type of gun it is, a mix between different models I’ve seen. It must be another Wonderland creation. Hatter caresses the side of Clara’s face. “Clara Bee, come back to me, you know how dangerous Wonderland can be.”
I watch curiously as Clara smiles and kisses him gently on the tip of his nose.
“Hatter, there’s no need for distress, I’ll be right back after all this mess.”
I threaten to melt at the exchange but just barely keep myself from acting like I just saw a kitten kiss a cobra, and the cobra liking it. I’m not sure which one’s the cobra.
We all move towards Cheshire. I glance at Clara, unable to look away from the ordinary woman in an extraordinary world. Clara notices me looking and smiles.
“It’s part of his darkness,” she whispers in response to the question she no doubt sees in my eyes. It’s true, I’ve been curious about the rhymes he seems to favor.
“How do you handle it?” I ask. “The darkness?”
Clara smiles gently at me, her eyes twinkling.
“It isn’t about handling the darkness, Jupiter. It’s about embracing it.”
Her words hit me hard in the chest, and I nearly stumble under their force. I’ve never
thought of it like that, and the guilt I feel threatens to break me down. Had I tried to handle Neptune rather than embrace her? But Clara is there to squeeze my hand and bring me back from the edge. I smile at her in gratitude.
Cheshire stands up in front of us, glancing between Clara and me. He holds out claw-tipped hands. Clara glares at him and he sighs.
“Fine.”
I watch as the claws fade away to reveal normal, beautiful hands.
“Do you turn into a cat?” I ask as I slip my hand into his. Clara does the same on the other side.
Cheshire grins. I watch with wide eyes as we begin fading away, the effect slowly climbing my arms. Cheshire morphs before my eyes, sprouting fur, his eyes slitting to a cat’s again.
“Wow,” I breathe, taking him in. “You must be a hit with the zookeepers.”
We fade away to Cheshire’s laughter ringing in my ears.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Disappearing isn’t anything like I expect. I assumed we would just have this moment of blankness in-between, reappearing at our destination. That isn’t the case, at all. I’m able to see the entire time, and as soon as the Hatter’s house leaves our sight, the world explodes in shades of blues, swirling around us like a portal. It’s strangely similar to White’s Rabbit Hole. I glance to my right at Cheshire’s face, but his eyes are closed in concentration. Clara has her eyes closed, too, but I think it’s more from nausea than anything else. It doesn’t have that effect on me. I have that weightless feeling like I’m on a roller coaster that just dropped out from under me before the swirling fades away, and a small cabin nestled in the forest comes into view.
A man stumbles out onto the porch and giggles, tapping his fingers together in excitement. I stare hard at him, expecting his appearance to be an illusion, but he doesn’t change. Dingy brown ears sit on his head, half of one missing, chunks missing from the remaining appendage. His flesh is riddled with holes and missing pieces, similar to the Bandersnatch. There are tell-tale bite marks along the shoulder that’s exposed with his shredded coat, and I frown at the sight.
In the distance, a Bandersnatch shrieks, and Clara ushers us inside. Cheshire doesn’t move as fast, strolling onto the porch as if danger isn’t waiting in the trees for us. March follows us inside.
“Welcome, welcome, welcome, welcome . . .,” he mumbles, trailing off at the end. He frowns as if he can’t remember what he was saying, before shrugging and letting out another giggle.
“Why couldn’t you do that before?” Clara demands of Cheshire once we’re inside. “You left me to face the Knave alone last time. You could have taken me with you.”
Cheshire rolls his eyes.
“Clara Bee, I let you do the job you were prophesied to do. Besides, I warned you I’m on nobody’s side but my own.”
I turn away from their argument to stare at March. As Clara warned, he looks nothing like he did outside. His clothing is no longer in tatters, although it still appears dirty and moth-eaten, and his skin is whole. The only thing still left is the half missing ear on his head.
“Which form is the true one?” I ask, curious.
March cocks his head and giggles again.
“What on Wonder makes you think that either is true?” he whispers as if dropping some great conspiracy. Then he grins wide, revealing sharp teeth and starts to chant. “One is dead. Two is begotten. Three is alone. And four is forgotten.” He repeats if over and over again as I watch in fascination.
“I told you,” Clara says, taking my hand, “Don’t mind him.” She waits for March to trail off before she addresses him. “March, Jupiter here needs some Reali-Tea.”
“Of course! Oh, of course! Of course! Reali-Tea it is!”
March shuffles over to what must be a kitchen area and starts pouring things into a cup before mashing at them with a spoon.
“What is Reali-Tea?” I ask. “And should I be drinking it?”
“It’s safe,” Clara answers. “Well, as safe as can be. It induces visions of the past.”
“You’ve drunk it before?”
She nods. “Once.” She shivers at the memory. “I’m afraid it isn’t pleasant, but I’m going to help you through it.”
“Will it hurt me?” March brings over a tea cup filled with red liquid, steam rising from the contents. I have no idea how he prepared it so fast. A faint smell of roses and chocolate, with metallic undertones wafts into my face.
“Physically, no.” Clara leans away from the tea. “Emotionally, it’ll probably rip you to shreds.”
I sigh at her answer.
“Why can’t anything in Wonderland be safe and simple?”
Clara throws her hands up in the air.
“Tell me about it, girl! I have seen some shit, let me tell you.”
I fight the urge to chuckle at her since March does enough for the both of us. I lift the cup gently and stare at the contents. March watches, engrossed, as I pause it before my lips. Cheshire leans against the opposite wall, peering through the curtains outside.
“Make sure you brace her,” he mumbles, not turning to look at us.
Clara shifts closer and waits as I take a sip. The flavor is just as it smells, chocolate and roses and a thick metallic taste that coats my tongue. I finish the liquid inside before setting the cup back on the table and wait, nothing immediately happening. For some reason, my eyes drift over to Cheshire who finally turns to look at me.
The moment a grin spreads across his face, the world explodes in shades of red.
The world around me looks like home. Normal trees, not a mushroom in sight. There’s a little house in front of me, quaint, old-fashioned. It doesn’t look modern. Beside me, a portal opens, and I jump away in surprise as a little girl tumbles out. I immediately recognize her.
The little blonde girl stands up and brushes off her dirty blue dress before pushing her hair out of her eyes. Not only is there dirt on her dress, but it looks like there’s blood smeared across it, too. Those eyes are far too old for such a young face as she grins and takes off running towards the house. Not once does she notice me, so I assume I’m to be invisible for these visions. Not terrible so far.
“Momma! Daddy!” she yells as she bangs at the door. Something glass shatters inside.
The world swirls around me, and I stumble under the unexpected change. When it stops, I’m standing inside a building, and that little girl is screaming at the top of her lungs.
I frown as a man and woman watch two men drag young Alice away.
“I’m telling the truth!” she screams. “I saw them! I went down a rabbit hole!”
The woman covers her face and turns into the man’s chest, letting him comfort her over their daughter being committed. And that’s exactly what’s happening, I realize, noting the plaque on the wall with the words, ‘Davis Institute for the Insane.’
“I saw the White Rabbit! I saw the Hatter! Momma! Daddy! Don’t send me away! Please!”
My chest aches at the pleas from the little girl, her desperation to break away from the large men dragging her. She fights and screams and begs and claws, but an eight-year-old is no match for two grown men determined to take her away.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see something twitch and I turn, my eyes finding White standing stock still in a corner. Alice sees him the same moment I do, and she reaches for him.
“White! Look right there! It’s the White Rabbit! See him!” When they look and react as if nothing is there, she screams in anger. “White! Save me! Help me, White!”
His face is solemn as he watches the scene, watches Alice taken through the doors before her screams begin to fade. He turns and exits the building.
The scene shifts again, and we’re outside in a manicured garden. In front of me, Alice is strapped into a wheelchair, her hands and feet locked within leather buckles. She’s older now, but still has the same face. She looks like she’s in her late teens, a woman and yet a child. Her head is shaved, her beautiful blonde locks gone. There’s a
nasty scar that runs along her scalp, one that makes me clench my jaw in anger. I can’t be certain of the year, but this can’t be current day. Such atrocities aren’t practiced any more. I think back to Star Corp and correct myself; Such things aren’t practiced publicly any more.
Alice stares into the distance, her face blank as her lips move, mumbling under her breath. I lean down and just barely make out her words.
“Hatter . . . White . . . Cheshire . . . Alex . . . Hatter. . . .”
Even after all she’s been through, she still whispers their names, as if nothing the asylum has done can take them from her. Suddenly, my chest hurts for the little girl in front of me. No one should be made to go through such horrors.
Suddenly, Alice stops mumbling, and her eyes flick to something behind me. I turn and meet the eyes of my Rabbit. He’s sitting on a bench, apparently invisible to all but Alice. He looks sad, so unbearably sad, as he takes in Alice’s appearance. He glances at his watch and sighs.
Alice begins to scream her anger and betrayal. I clamp my hand over my ears at the loud piercing sound, gritting my teeth. No normal woman should make a sound like that. White gets up and walks away just as nurses swarm the teenage girl.
The scene changes violently this time, as if they’re reacting to Alice’s anger. We’re back inside a building, the walls white and padded. In the corner sits Alice. Her hair is long again, even if it’s dirty and unkempt. She’s older, in her thirties maybe, and she’s wearing a straight jacket. She giggles and mumbles the same words I heard her whisper in the last vision.
“Hatter . . . White . . . Cheshire . . . Alex. . . .”
Whatever has happened to her, she no longer seems all there. There’s an evil smile on her face each time she giggles, and I can tell it’s too late for her to be saved at this point. Her face holds all the anger and resentment she’s carried for most of her life.
The door opens behind me, and I turn, expecting White again. Instead, a handsome man walks in, dressed in a lab coat. He has a movie-star quality to his looks, his hair perfectly swept back, his shoulders strong.
Late as a Rabbit (Sons of Wonderland Book 2) Page 13
