by Eva Chase
Maybe the constant cavorting and whimsy weren’t so weird after all. Survival, Chess had said. Easier to distract themselves…
Even the parts of this world I’d wanted to bask in were made out of pain rather than the joy I’d thought I’d seen.
Doria clammed up for the rest of our walk, which wasn’t very long anyway. She’d obviously made this trek many times, and she knew which shops to duck between, which alleys to veer down, to cut straight across the city rather than taking the more winding route of the actual streets. When we reached the gleaming silver spire of the Tower, she let out a pleased sound and waved to a stout young man with bright red hair and brighter clothes wiping down a table outside a nearby café. “Dee!”
She bounded over to talk to him, so I went into the Tower alone. I hadn’t navigated the elevator by myself before. Even though this was my third time stepping into that narrow but vastly tall space, my breath caught as I stared up past all those dozens of floors.
“Twenty-seventh floor,” I said, the same way Chess had both times. “Lyssa coming calling.”
The air pressure jolted me upwards. I started to wonder how a waft of air could understand language enough to know where to drop me off, and then I reminded myself that I was in Wonderland and nothing I thought I knew about physics or engineering applied here anyway.
When I stepped into Theo’s office, he was standing by the worktables, a contraption about the length of his arm in front of him. “Lyssa!” he said, with what sounded like genuine pleasure. He finished screwing a bit of metal to one side of it and came around the table to meet me. “I’m glad you came. Last night must have been a lot to take in.”
“It was,” I said. Having him so close to me brought back the brush of his hand down the side of my face just before he’d left. My heart thumped in a heady beat. The White Knight had been captivating even before with that powerful aura of his, but knowing he supported the city not just with inventions and advice but also by leading its underground movement for freedom made his presence somehow twice as magnetic.
So much on his shoulders, and he took everything in stride with that warm assurance. It was hard to imagine him taking any risks he hadn’t carefully weighed and judged worth it.
“You wanted to explain your plan to me, and how I’d fit into it?” I went on.
“I appreciate the enthusiasm.” He reached for my hand as easily as if he’d taken it a hundred times, but he only held on for long enough to lead me over to the table. A gleam of passion came into his eyes as he looked down at the contraption.
“I’ve just been reconstructing my latest model of the pocket-watch retriever,” he said. “I’m sure Chess will be able to come up with a much fancier name for it when I unveil it. Allies of the Spades gather the necessary parts each morning, the ones I didn’t already have on hand. It’s taken a lot of time and experimentation to create something with all the functions we need.”
He ran his finger over a crystal sphere that gleamed in the midst of the contraption. “This was the crowning jewel that brought it all together, and it’s the only one of its kind we’ve found, at least that we can reach. In some ways I’ve been lucky to have our daily resets, as it’s rather fragile, and I’ve accidentally cracked it a few times.”
“Yeah, I guess being stuck in time makes trial and error a lot more straightforward,” I said. You always ended up back where you started… but you never lost anything either. “So that’s the key to, well, retrieving the watch?”
Theo smiled. “Yes. Although this is only the second stage out of two. The first is how we make our way into the palace at all.”
Of course. “There must be a lot of guards out there,” I said.
He nodded without much evident concern. “But they too all find themselves reset when the day flips over. As I understand it, the Queen didn’t bother to put any in place that first morning, knowing they’d always be able to reach it before anyone else could. She does like to keep her staff on their toes. The guards are rather lax about making their way there since there’s never been any urgency before. We’ll have an opening of about half an hour—if we’re close enough to the palace already.”
It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together. “That’s what you need me for,” I said. “You’re thinking that if I’m with whoever’s running the mission, they won’t be reset back to the city or wherever. We get as close as we can beforehand, and then as soon as the day switches, they can make a run for the watch.”
“Exactly. Look at you, already three steps ahead of me.” The approval in Theo’s expression made me beam in return. He tapped the device on the table. “I’ll also need you here when I construct this on the day of, so it doesn’t reset into its pieces. We’ll have to experiment some to see exactly how involved in its construction you need to be to make sure the effect sticks, but I can walk you through the process even if it comes to that. For now, would you just pick it up for a moment?”
“Sure.” I eased my hands under the device. With its rods and wires, it looked almost like a skeletal arm. I held it gingerly for the space of a few heartbeats and then set it down. “That’s it?”
“That’s perfect,” Theo said.
“What does it do, exactly?” I asked. “What do you need it for once you’ve made it to the room with the watch?”
“Well… the Queen has some unusual ideas about security,” Theo said. “The room we can make it into isn’t the room with the watch. That lies on the other side of a doorway too small for anyone to fit more than a forearm through, in a fortified glass case. Our retriever will be able to reach far beyond that doorway.”
He flicked a couple of levers, and the device extended to four times its previous length. The crystal hovered in the center as if balancing the sides. When Theo ran his fingers over a dial at the end he was holding, the crystal flashed. An image of the room beyond the far end of the retriever appeared over the handles. “This will allow us to aim quickly and correctly. Then this will cut through the case and catch the watch with a magnetic pull.” He pointed to a metal disc at the other end. “After that, all we need to do is pull the watch out.”
Easy peasy, as my dad used to say. “All right,” I said. “I don’t even have to be there for that part, right? Just wherever you stake out the palace.” That didn’t sound like too much of a risk. If I did make the dash for the watch with them, I’d probably just slow Theo’s team down. An athlete, I was not. “Do we go for it tonight, then?”
“As much as I’d like to see the Queen’s tyranny ended, we can’t afford to hurry this,” he said, “Once we’ve shown our hand, we may never get another chance if we’re unsuccessful. I’ll be making a few final refinements on the retriever while checking how you’ve affected its stability, and we’ll be going over the best current route across the grounds. I don’t want to ask too much of your time, though. It should only take a couple days to be fully prepared.”
I’d already been ready to stay that long. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” I said. “As long as Hatter doesn’t get tired of hosting me.”
Theo’s eyebrows arched. “Has he not appreciated having you as a guest?”
It wasn’t really fair for me to complain after the bedside breakfast I’d gotten this morning. “He’s been fine. It just has to be an imposition when he wasn’t expecting any guests, right?” I said quickly, and groped for a change of subject. I ran my finger over the retriever’s metal sinews. “Where did you learn to invent stuff like this? Or were you just born knowing how, some kind of Wonderland thing?”
“The White Knight before me took me through the ropes," Theo said, his lips curving fondly. "I suppose he must have seen some natural inclination in me to take me on as his apprentice."
I blinked at him. "Before you? There've been other White Knights?"
"It's just a code name, really," he said. "Or a marker of position as much as ‘Inventor’ is. There were Queens of Hearts before the Queen of Hearts, Hatters before Hatter." He c
ocked his head. "I'm not sure if there've ever been other Cheshires or if our Chess is one of a kind."
"Oh," I said. "Then how long have you...?" I gestured to the office.
He picked up another metal bit from farther down the table and started twisting it onto his device. "I've fully inhabited the position for more than twenty-five years now. Unlike Chess and Hatter, I was born into the freeze." He looked up at me, his deep brown eyes like a gulp of rich cocoa on a chilly day. "I was born into this world. I have to admire your dedication to our cause, to help us overcome our oppression. Where did you learn that compassionate fortitude?"
I'd never heard anyone put it in quite such a complimentary way before. It sounded a lot more heroic than Melody teasing me about being a pushover. My cheeks flushed, and a hollow formed in the pit of my stomach. I picked up a golden gear and turned it between my fingers, letting the nubs dig into my skin.
"I guess I was born into that position, in a way," I said. "My dad got sick when I was little—cancer. He fought it for three years, but he passed on when I was eight."
The hollow inside expanded with the uncomfortable mix of loss and bitterness that always came when I lingered on this subject. I'd barely known Dad as a dad, he'd spent so many of the childhood days I could remember hunched on the sofa or slumped in his bed, often without the energy to smile or say much more than, "Hey, Lyss," in that increasingly thin voice.
I soldiered on, because Theo was still watching me—because the attentiveness of his gaze told me my answer mattered to him. "My mom kind of fell apart. And my older brother, Cameron—he was just so angry. He kept picking fights, stealing things, getting into trouble any way he could... Someone had to hold the family together. Make sure Mom got to work, that the bills got paid, that there was food in the house. Be one solid thing in the middle of the chaos. So I made that me."
The gear slipped from my fingers and clinked on the tabletop. Theo set his hand over mine. "That's a lot for any one person to shoulder."
I didn't want him pitying me. His admiration was much more appealing. "I managed," I said, trying to exude the same effortless strength he did.
"My condolences, as belated as they are. I can't imagine... My father wasn't the most present of parents, but that hardly compares."
"I don't know," I said without thinking. "I can assume mine would have been a great dad if he'd had any choice in it."
Theo's gaze flickered, and shame clogged my throat. "I'm sorry. That was a horrible thing to say."
"It was an honest thing." Theo eased back, his face perfectly relaxed, his thumb tracing a tingling line over my knuckles. Had I imagined that flash of discomfort?
He chuckled. "I'd be surprised if you and Hatter don't get along quite well. I hope your family dynamics are less fraught now that you're grown?"
"Yes," I said. "Not peaceful, but definitely less dramatic." Now that he’d mentioned his dad, I couldn’t help asking, "What was your mom like?" What combination of Wonderland parenting had produced this stunning man?
Theo's lips quirked with amusement. "Oh, she doted on me, gave me everything she could imagine I'd want. Unfortunately she rarely stopped to check whether her imaginings were correct."
I thought about Mom and her unnecessary worries. "I know what that's like. Well, not so much the 'gave me everything' part, but the rest. It’s so frustrating when you know they love you, but there’s so much they just can’t seem to see about who you actually are.”
“Yes,” Theo said, with a thread of something in his voice that made me glance at him, but his expression hadn’t changed. “That’s it exactly. If they even see you at all and not just an idea of what they feel you should be.”
“Or that they’re worried you might be,” I muttered.
“That too.” His thumb slipped across the back of my hand one more time. "Well, as sorry as I am that you bore those burdens, I’ll admit I’m grateful for whatever part they played in bringing you here to us. To me."
Those last two words in his soft baritone warmed me even more than his touch did. “Me, too,” I said quietly, and drew on the fortitude he’d praised to grin at him. “Even if some of my life was tough, I decided a while back not to regret any of it, because who knows if I could do everything I need to do now if I hadn’t learned all the things I did back then? You’ve just got to keep looking forward.”
“Indeed,” Theo said, smiling back at me. “Looking backward can be a treacherous thing. I—” He caught himself with a shake of his head. “I should let you go so I can get our plans organized, or I’ll end up extending your stay even longer. Enjoy what you can of all Wonderland offers while I set the pieces in place.”
“Just be careful?” I said, expecting a repeat of Hatter’s cautioning.
“I know I don’t need to tell you that,” he said, as if he had absolute confidence in me. “Although I would advise staying close to the city while jabberwockies are straying farther from their usual grounds, since I don’t have any vorpal swords on hand to lend you. Will you stop by again tomorrow, to see where we’re at?”
“Of course,” I said. I’d come just to see him.
He guided me toward the door, his hand warm on my back. “Let’s hope for plenty of good news. And, Lyssa.” He waited until I met his eyes. “If you should need a different place to stay, or you simply want a change of scenery at any time—my door will be open. No matter the reason, you can always come to me.”
Chapter Seventeen
Lyssa
They’d cleaned the blood off the club’s floor. I guessed that wasn’t too much to ask. Swaying up and down the miniature hills and valleys made me more queasy than exhilarated tonight with those images in my head—with all the knowledge I’d gained.
Wonderland had come so much more starkly into focus in the course of a day, but not for the better.
I hadn’t really expected to find the same sense of freedom I had before. That wasn’t why I’d come. I snatched a shot glass full of swirling neon pink liquid from a passing tray and used that as an excuse to ease over to the wall with Chess, who’d volunteered as my dancing partner even though I wasn’t planning on making a run for the mirror tonight. I could only picture the look Hatter would have given me if I’d asked him, and Theo had enough on his plate. Chess had actually appeared to enjoy the atmosphere here.
“Give me the whole run-down,” I said to him now. I sniffed the neon drink and winced at the acrid mint scent. “How does Caterpillar fit in with the Queen of Hearts and her crew? It helps her the way he keeps this party going every night, right?”
Chess leaned his brawny shoulders against the wall with a languid nod. The flashing lights reflected off his eyes as he considered the crowd. The blare of frenetic bass covered our conversation. I could barely hear him standing right next to him.
“Caterpillar answers to the Queen,” he said. “She gives him control over this establishment and various luxuries, and he keeps the Clubbers happy and hazy. He has to toe the line too. His head could roll as easily as anyone’s if she took a disliking to it.”
“Why does he have that mirror?” I asked. “What ingredients does Rabbit constantly need to get from my world?”
Chess made a whirling gesture. “Drugs stuck in time don’t have the same potency. Rabbit retrieves a little substance, a little spice from the Otherland to ensure each night’s batch of drinks and edibles will dope the dopes to the desired effect.” He gave me a slanted grin. “We’re hooked on you, you might say. Are you going to drink that?”
I handed him the glass, and he tossed it back. His grin stretched wider when he looked at me again. “Not bad. Don’t worry—even if I lose my head, I’m very good at finding it again.”
I made a face at him. “I’d rather you kept it to begin with.”
“Ah, we’ll all lose our heads the old-fashioned way if we can’t take a little pleasure when it’s offered.” He grasped my hand and tugged me back toward the floor. “Dance with me, lovely.”
He ga
ve himself over to the music, his muscles rippling beneath his shirt and slacks. With his expression soft and open, he’d have looked cherubic if it weren’t for the glint of fangs when his lips parted. A stray thought flitted through my mind. What would those pointed teeth feel like teased over my skin?
I still couldn’t get caught up in the melody. Too many other thoughts were jostling for my attention. My gaze drifted over to the basement door across the crowd from us.
Could Theo take his inventions through the mirror into the Otherland to make them real? Or maybe they’d still reset, unless he could find the materials there.
“Rabbit has to collect new ingredients every day?” I asked Chess when I caught his gaze again.
“They vanish into the ether, I expect,” he said.
And even if that strategy would have worked, there’d still be the matter of getting into the palace. Too bad I couldn’t just bottle a bunch of Otherland time and bring it back with me for them to use however they wanted. They couldn’t work any of this plan without me right there.
I still only had the vaguest idea where the palace even was. I kept up with Chess through another song, but that thought gnawed deeper until I couldn’t ignore it.
When I shimmied closer, he set his hand on my waist as if to hold me with him. A flush spread across my belly. All three of the men I was counting on were way too fucking hot for their own good.
I bobbed up on my toes to speak by his ear. “I want to see the Queen’s palace. Take me there?” It had to be easier to slip out to spy on it through the dark of night.
Chess leaned closer. His lips brushed my cheek, and my heart jumped. “Why on earth would you want to waste your time on that horrid place?”
For a second, I had trouble remembering my reasoning. “I’m going to have to see it sometime,” I said. “I’d just—I’d like to have a better idea what I’m getting into.”
Something about those words gave him pause. He peered down at me, his pupils dilated, and for a second I was worried the drink had affected him more than he’d shown at first. Then he nodded. “All right. We’ll liven up the night royal-style.”