“She wouldn’t answer when it was time for tea,” Attie chokes out, and I focus on him. His eyes are glassy, but he holds in his anguish for his sister. He doesn’t realize that Cal is doing the exact same thing, holding it all in for her brother. “I came and checked on her. She was staring at the ceiling, unresponsive. She closed her eyes a little bit ago.”
Cal looks up and meets my eyes, and I see the torment there as she realizes that her mother won’t make it back home, that her journey will end in a foreign world, surrounded by strangers. I feel her sob, rather than hear it, the dam breaking loose before she can stop it. She curls her arms around her little brother and holds him close as his emotions join hers. Everyone else files out of the room, giving them their privacy, letting them mourn in solitude, but I linger by the door. Diana is sleeping, but her memories are locked away inside her mind somewhere. Her body might be failing her, but the least I can do is find a way for her to remember her children in her last moments. The least I can give Cal is a final moment with her mom looking at her in love.
“March can help,” I whisper, but Cal hears. The sight of her red eyes, of the tears tracking down her cheeks kills me, but I don’t look away from her pain. I can’t. I’d take it away if I could, if she’d let me.
“We can’t move her,” she croaks, and my chest squeezes. So much agony in those words. March can’t leave his cabin. And her mother can’t leave the bed.
Flam leans close to me from the hallway as I watch Cal wrap her fingers through her mother’s. Her mother doesn’t even twitch, as if she’s already gone.
“I might have a way that we can get March here,” Flam whispers, low enough that Cal can’t hear. Getting anyone’s hope up would be a very bad thing. “Follow me.”
“I’ll be just outside,” I say quietly, but Cal doesn’t even look up as I close the door behind me and give them space. Once I step away further from the room, I turn to meet Flam’s eyes. “What do you mean? March is tethered to his cabin. If he leaves, he dies.”
There’s a tick in Flam’s jaw, belying his calm.
“I have a sort of charm that if March wears it around his neck, he should be able to Fade with you from his cabin to here, but it’ll only last a short amount of time. You’ll have to move fast.”
“And where did you get such a charm?” I ask, curiosity killing me. I’ve never heard of such a thing.
“Does it matter?” Flam looks towards the closed door, a frown on his face. He pulls a necklace from his coat pocket and presses it into my hand.
“No, it doesn’t.” The charm could have come from the depths of evil, and I wouldn’t care, not as long as it helps Cal.
“Remember, it won’t last long once it’s around his neck.”
“Understood.” I turn to head to the porch, ready to go get March right away, but Flam stops me with a hand on my shoulder. I glance back at him, furrowing my brows. “What?”
His eyes are serious, intense, as he looks into mine.
“Don’t let fate decide for you, Cheshire,” he whispers. “But don’t let your stubbornness ruin your chance at happiness.”
“Whatever do you mean?” I ask, a hint of sarcasm in my voice, my tail flicking in agitation. I keep my mask in place, not giving anything away, but Flam sees through it anyways. I would expect nothing less from the Flamingo.
“You know what I mean.”
He releases my shoulder and walks away. I stand in the hallway for a minute longer, the necklace hanging from my fingers, my chest tight, before I turn away.
I throw one last glance towards the blue door, wishing I could take the pain leaking inside away.
Chapter 34
Attie and I stay with mom. She hasn’t moved, no change in her appearance. Her breath still wheezes from her chest, even though the oxygen is on. I can feel her slipping away, sense her body giving in. I try to stay strong for Attie, but I’m dying inside. I don’t know if I can handle this. Not here. Mom was supposed to be comfortable at home when she went, not stuck in some fantasy world because of me.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Attie whispers. He’s been saying it over and over again. His warmth, as we hug each other, helps, but both of us are just barely keeping ourselves whole. I don’t know where everyone else went. I don’t even know where Cheshire is after he said he would be outside. I focus only on my family, and on the constant wheeze of my mother’s breaths.
“What do we do now?”
I look over at Attie where he holds mom’s hand, his eyes just as red as I’m sure mine are. “I don’t know.”
I have no idea what happens from here, if there’s even anything we can do for mom while we’re in Wonderland. The best I can think is to make her comfortable in this strange world.
There’s a soft knock on the door, so faint, I barely hear it. I look up in confusion.
“Come in.” I don’t answer very loud, not wanting to disturb mom as she sleeps, but whoever it is hears me just fine. The knob twists, and the door opens on silent hinges before Cheshire pokes his head in. “Cheshire,” I breathe, gesturing for him to some inside.
He opens the door fully, and I get a good look at who’s behind him. I stand up, pushing Attie behind me.
“No, it’s okay.” Cheshire holds his hands out like he’s approaching a skittish animal, and I suppose he is. I step forward to block my mom from the eyes of the man, thing, behind him.
“Who the hell is that?” I ask, taking in the sight before me.
The man was probably once attractive. Now, he’s covered in gaping wounds and sores, more like what I expect a zombie to look like. The coat and pants he wears are in tatters. Half of a rabbit ear is missing on his head, the other riddled with holes. His eyes, bright-toxic green, meet mine and the anguish, the depth, in them almost brings me to my knees.
“This is March.” Cheshire speaks slowly, making sure I understand.
“The March Hare?” Who else could it be with a name like March? Still, I eye him warily. “You said he can help, but you said he can’t leave his cabin.”
“Flam helped.” Cheshire points to a vial hanging from a chain around March’s neck. For the first time, I realize it’s glowing a faint pink color. “He doesn’t have long, but I thought maybe he can help your mom with her memories.”
“Can you do that?” I ask the rabbit.
A tiny giggle escapes when he opens his mouth, and he clamps his hand over it as if he can catch it. He doesn’t succeed, and another one trickles out right after.
“Memories are my specialty,” he whispers as if it’s some great secret.
“March is the Keeper of Memories,” Cheshire clarifies. “He might be able to unlock the part of your mom’s brain that keeps her memories at bay.”
March giggles again. “It’s far more in depth than that, Kitty Cat. Yes, it is, oh, yes, it is. . . . ”
I stare at him for a second, squinting my eyes. “Are you sure he can help?” I glance at Cheshire, uncertain about the man now staring at the chandelier with starry eyes.
“If anyone can, it’s March. I wouldn’t have brought him here if I thought he was dangerous.”
An understanding passes between us, that Cheshire is taking his vow seriously.
“Okay.” I nod before turning back to March. His ear spasms. “What do you need us to do?”
“Step away, step away, you must give me room to work, I need some space, so this won’t hurt.”
“It’s going to hurt?” I don’t move from my protective stance as he takes a step closer.
“Not her. No, it won’t hurt her.” March moves to the opposite side of the bed. Attie watches in fascination as mom’s eyes begin to move behind her eyelids, as if she senses something changing.
“Hello, Diana,” March mumbles as he pulls a vial from his jacket. There’s yellow liquid inside, iridescent as it swirls around. “I’m going to bring you back.”
There’s no insanity in his words this time, as if he’s a completely different person. I thread my f
ingers through mom’s hands on the other side, and Attie takes my other one. We both watch as March touches a gentle palm against her forehead. He grunts in pain for a moment, but before any of us can react, the look is gone and replaced with concentration.
Cheshire stays at the foot of the bed, watching. He seems just as on edge as we are, his ears drooping as he watches.
March stays like that for long minutes, his fingers gracefully touching mom’s forehead. Her eyelids start moving rapidly, her breathing coming a little faster. I clutch Attie’s hand hard, afraid of what March is doing. I don’t know if he’s hurting her, or if he’s filtering through her mind.
Before I can start to really panic, March removes his hand and tips the vial of yellow liquid into Mom’s lips. Then we all stare, waiting. I have no idea what for, but I’m hopeful.
“Three times we circle the long hand,” March mumbles.
“Three hours.” Cheshire meets my eyes.
“Three hours for what?” I wrinkle my brow and look at March.
“Diana has three circles of the long hand.”
“To what? To wake up?”
March shakes his head sadly and his ears droop. “To live.”
My heart stops, and a sob catches in my throat.
“Will she wake up?” Attie asks, his voice hoarse but strong. “Before then?”
March points down, and we watch as mom blinks her eyes open. When she looks at us, they’re clearer than they’ve been in years.
“Mom?”
“Oh, my sweet Calypso,” she whispers. “My Atlas.”
That’s all it takes. Forgetting everything else in the room, Attie and I hug her close, being careful not to jostle her too much. Her arms wrap around us, weak but present. Distantly, I hear the door shut behind us, but I don’t look. I’m too focused on the woman in front of me.
For a moment, I’m little again, and my momma is here, holding me, and telling me she loves me. For a moment, I forget everything. For a moment, three hours seems like forever.
“I’ve missed you so much,” I whisper.
Attie climbs onto the bed and curls up on her other side, so gentle, so careful. I pull over a chair and take her other side, holding her hand close to my heart.
“I’m afraid I’ve missed so much, and I don’t have very long.” Even now her voice is raspy, as if it’s painful to speak. “You’ve both grown so big.”
“Do you remember where we are, Mom?” Attie asks, content to let her play with his hair. Normally, she would tell him he needs a haircut. Now, she just threads her fingers through the locks.
“I remember everything. I must say, it’s so reassuring to know that there’s a world with magic, and Hatters, and Cheshire cats.” Her eyes flick over to mine. “One cat, in particular.”
I can’t help it. Years of not having my mom around has made me susceptible to it. I blush, my cheeks growing warm.
“He’s an asshole.”
She doesn’t correct my language, or smack me on the hand like she used to. Instead, she smiles.
“Ahhh,” as if my words hold all the answers. Maybe they do. “Do you remember the conversation we had when you were younger?”
I nod my head. “How could I forget?” Her words have been going through my mind since we came to Wonderland.
“Keep them in mind,” she says, a tiny smile curling her lips, “next time you two share a look, and you think he’s terrible. Sometimes the right one, makes your brain scream out no, even if your heart is saying yes. Don’t trust it, not always. But you’ll know when it’s right.”
“She has the hots for the Cheshire Cat,” Attie teases.
“Shut up, little brother,” I hiss, but I don’t correct him, and both of them notice.
“Oh, my sweet girl,” mom says, cupping my cheek with a frail hand. “It’s far more than that.”
I look down, away from her knowing eyes.
“It doesn’t matter,” I mumble.
“It always matters.”
For a moment, we let those words hang in the air, but we don’t have much time, and things are already diminishing. My mom’s body grows a little bit weaker, and I watch as she seems to whither before our eyes.
“You will bring this world peace,” she whispers. “Both of you. Accept the help Wonderland is giving to you, and bring them through this to the other side.”
A tear slips from my eye, and I hastily wipe it away.
“What if I can’t be who they need?”
“You already are, Calypso. You’re everything and more. Both of you are important to this world.”
None of us speak for a few minutes, content to sit in silence and let mom rest her voice, but the need to use this time, to keep her here for a little bit longer, pulls at me, so eventually, I speaks again.
“Attie has a crush on a girl at school,” I begin, determined to make the most of it.
The hands tick away on the clock in the room, their soft sounds meeting my ears and matching the pace of my heart. Sometimes, we think we have time, to love, to live, to cherish. Forever can be this unattainable concept hanging over everyone’s heads. I’ll love you forever. Best friends forever. Together forever.
But what we fail to realize, when we say the words, is that forever isn’t long at all.
Forever can begin and end in three turns of the long hand.
Or in just one second.
“She’s in the band . . .”
Chapter 35
Clara
I sit in my chair, watching as everyone funnels into the tea room. The mood tonight is somber, stifling. I can feel the pain echoing through the hall and it makes my heart skip a beat. This is the pain I want to take away, but I can’t. That isn’t my role.
I watch as Cal and Attie stroll in, Cal’s arm around Attie’s shoulders. Both of them have eyes rimmed in red and splotchy faces. The urge to reach out to them, to tell them I’m sorry, overwhelms me, but I refrain. Those words never help. I’ve seen enough of the dead now to realize that. But at least, we can give them one last moment, stop the clock for a single second, so that they can see their mom again.
Diana sits poised at the table, a bright smile on her face, so much healthier than she looked in that bed upstairs. Her eyes are bright as she waves Attie and Cal over and embraces them. They stay close as they take their seats.
When Absalom walks inside, we all tense. Hatter stands from his chair in a rush, fear on his face.
“What has happened?”
Cal and Cheshire tense, and I realize they knew, but with the events that happened, they were unable to tell us. Cheshire hadn’t moved from the hallway while Cal and Attie told their mother goodbye, except to return March to his cabin.
“She saved us,” Cal says, meeting Absalom’s eyes. I don’t ask about how the old man I knew is now a woman. I can bring that question up with Hatter later, but I suspect it has something to do with the purging.
“It was my time, Hatter,” Absalom adds. “We all have our times.”
“You’ve been the prophet since before I was born,” White comments. “What does that mean for Wonderland?”
“Wonderland always has a plan.”
“Of course, she does,” Cheshire growls, shaking his head. “Like we’re nothing more than chess pieces on a board.”
Absalom merely smiles as Cheshire plucks some sweet bread from the safe plate and drops it in front of Cal. She doesn’t even seem to notice, her agony written across her face at the loss of two important people. She keeps looking back and forth between her mother and Absalom.
Wonderland has a way of taking that which you thought was safe. I’ve learned that intimately while I’ve been here. I’m sad that Cal had to learn it, too.
Hatter takes his seat again, and I wrap his hand in mine, acting as his anchor. When emotions get too high, his madness has a tendency to creep back in. I’ve accepted it completely, but I know the madness bothers him, so I do all that I can to help keep it at bay.
My Sweet Ha
tter.
The tea table is full again, various creatures and people added to the Red Queen’s victory, but I can feel the battle brewing. War is coming, and we’d better be ready for it. The real training will begin soon, and we’ll need everyone on our side to win.
This is only the beginning of the end.
Chapter 36
The tea party is as painful as watching the light fade from my mom’s eyes had been. Now she sits beside me, her eyes so bright and clear that it makes me happy. This is how I will remember her, talking to a creature that’s half crocodile, half man, swapping stories of the swamps she visited in Louisiana once. Her hair is swept up in a messy bun, and she’s wearing the dress she met dad in. I’d seen the pictures. I know exactly what that blue and white polka dot dress means. Mom is going home. I don’t know if Wonderland’s Here After is the same as Earth’s Heaven, but I hope it is. I hope mom gets to be happy on the other side.
The tea party flies by way too fast, and I find myself clinging to my mom’s arm when Hatter announces it’s time to go. Clara watches with sad eyes as she stands, and begins to lead the other creatures away.
Absalom comes to our side and bows her head before mom.
“You’ve raised such mighty children,” she says. “Wonderland will forever be in your debt.”
“No,” mom replies, smiling up at us as we flock to her side. “They were always mighty. Even without me.”
Absalom smiles. “Of course, Diana. I would very much like to talk more with you in the Here After.”
Mom nods even as we begin to move towards the archway in the back of the room, following the other creatures. We wait until only mom and Absalom are left, watching as Hatter leads each person through, and Clara hugs them all. Cheshire, Jupiter, and White stand beside her, watching. When we draw near, they all reach out to embrace Absalom. She puts her hand on Cheshire’s face, speaks words I cannot hear, before she turns to me one last time.
Feral as a Cat (Sons of Wonderland Book 3) Page 16
