by Eva Chase
“They all just grow like this?” Lyssa said. She wandered deeper into the strange wood, skirting the sprawled branches.
“As far as anyone can tell. There are tales about how ages ago some massive quake threw them onto their heads, but that sounds a little ridiculous to me.”
A laugh sputtered from Lyssa’s mouth. “Out of everything here, that’s where you draw the line?” Her pensive expression from earlier came back as she peered at the spiderweb of roots splintering the sky overhead. “It feels different from the other parts of Wonderland I’ve seen. Ominous.”
“I suppose you know why no one much comes out this way, then,” I said briskly. “Now, let’s see.” I counted off the trees in my head, checking each trunk, until I spotted the one with the knot just above the level of my head. My feet stilled.
Decades had passed, as much as time had passed at all here, but that long-ago moment washed over me with perfect clarity. I’d stood just about here, with March and May and Carpenter and the White Knight whom Theo had inherited his role from, all of us watching Alicia brandish her brass key. The wind had ruffled her golden hair that she kept short, just to the base of her ears, and she’d grinned in that fierce way of hers, and I’d thought there couldn’t be anything more beautiful in the whole of Wonderland.
The memory hit me with a pang that faded quickly. It was from long ago, yes, and a time when I’d been so much more naïve than I was now. I hadn’t known what beauty really was. When March and May had kissed at their wedding, when Doria had beamed her first infant smile…
Of all the things I’d lost, Alicia didn’t even warrant a spot on the list. You couldn’t lose what wasn’t yours in the first place, after all.
Lyssa had come to a stop beside me. “The knot,” I said, gesturing. “It’ll pop out. The key should be behind it.”
She nodded and trod gingerly over the more delicate branches with a care I couldn’t help appreciating. When she reached the thicker branch that joined the trunk just a couple feet below the knot, she scrambled up it much like her grand-aunt had.
The knot gave way at the press of her fingers. Lyssa fumbled inside the hole and then turned toward me, her face lit up with victory. The key gleamed in her grasp. The wind whipped through her long white-blond hair, and my heart squeezed with sudden certainty.
We had to get her out of Wonderland before she turned everything here, both inside me and all around me, even more upside down.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Lyssa
I turned Aunt Alicia’s key over in my hands as we left the bizarre trees behind. The sooner we were out of the creepy Topsy Turvy Woods, the better.
A few bits of dirt clung to the key, but otherwise the brass surface gleamed as if it’d just been stuck in that tree yesterday. It looked like something from an antique store: a thin cylinder with a little notched bit protruding near one end and a circle of elaborate filigree at the other. The whole thing was about the length of my palm, and the filigree part took up half of that. The pattern of the lines and the indents at the top of the circle brought to mind a crown.
The key wasn’t going to do me a whole lot of good here in Wonderland, though. I wiped the last flecks of dirt off it and tucked it carefully into my tote bag, on the inner side where I could feel the lump of it brushing against my hip as we walked.
I wasn’t sure how much more walking I was up to doing right now. Even in my sneakers, my feet were starting to ache. Possibly my calves too. We’d already walked the whole morning.
Hatter strode along a step ahead of me, appearing for all the world as if he planned to march straight back to the city without a second’s pause. Was he really in that much of a hurry to get rid of me? I hadn’t been sure how serious he’d been about me causing his unhappiness—his wryly deadpan voice sounded an awful lot like his politely irritated voice—and he actually had looked kind of joyful being out here, which was the only reason I’d asked.
My stomach grumbled, and a fresh twinge ran up the backs of my legs. My body didn’t care what he thought of me right now as long as it got a little relief.
When we’d come far enough into the stretch of small statuesque hills that I couldn’t see the upended trees behind us anymore, I cleared my throat. The landscape here was still pretty weird. Just ahead of us a knoll with the shape of a gigantic human head was staring at me, and the scrawny bushes dotting the grass warbled as if their bright orange-and-yellow leaves were actual flames. But I was used to weird by now.
“Didn’t you mention something about bringing a lunch?” I said.
Hatter was just glancing back with one eyebrow raised when a sound rippled over the hills that raised the hairs all up my arms and the back of my neck. It was a burbling sort of moan, like a rushing river in pain, cut off for a second with a ragged pant of breath that brought to mind razor-teeth. A thunderous crash sent the air shuddering.
“What the hell is that?” I said, my head jerking around.
Hatter had paled. “Nothing we want to meet,” he snapped, and grabbed my arm. He dragged me off the path into the narrower gaps between the oddly shaped knolls. The burbling moan reverberated over the hills again, already louder.
I found my feet and dashed with Hatter around a huge grassy rooster, curled cat, and a splayed hand. He yanked me down behind a more distant knoll that weirdly looked pretty much like a little hill, just with a completely sheer slope on the far side.
“What—” I started to whisper, and Hatter cut me off with a finger to my lips. He stayed crouched next to me, his hand falling to my side, his eyes twitching with each new sound as he tracked them.
The thing we’d run from snarled and groaned. The ground shook under our feet. I edged a little closer to Hatter instinctively, and his hand shifted over my back in half an embrace, one I wasn’t sure he was even conscious of. My pulse thumped at the base of my throat.
A flame-leafed bush clinging to the hill near us shivered, a smoky smell curling from its foliage that only increased the fiery illusion. There was a scraping sound like the scrabble of claws. Something hit the ground in a series of thuds. Teeth gnashed.
Hatter tensed as if to tug me away again, but the next moan reached us from farther away. The sounds dwindled until I was sure the thing was gone.
I sagged against the side of the hill in relief. “You didn’t tell me there were monsters out here.”
Hatter jerked his arm back to his side and moved to peer around the knoll. His face was still sallow.
“I didn’t know there were,” he said. “There never were before. That sounded like… like a jabberwock. They only roam the outer edges of Wonderland—which we’re still quite a ways from. There shouldn’t be…” He halted, frowning.
“Well, at least it didn’t manage to have us for lunch, right?” I said, managing a weak laugh. A bit of grass and earth fell away under my hand as I straightened up, leaning on the hillside for balance. The gap revealed not more soil but a smooth section of stone, with a seam where it fit against another bit of stone. Huh.
I swiped at more of the earth, since really I’d rather give the jabberwock or whatever the heck had crashed through here plenty of time to get on its way before we returned to our path anyway. When Hatter glanced over, I’d already cleared off three whole stone blocks and the edges of those around them.
“It’s not a hill,” I said. “It’s part of a wall. Or are they all made out of stone underneath?”
“Not in my experience,” Hatter said. “Someone might have lived out here a long time ago.”
The corner of some kind of carving showed on a neighboring stone. I worked the dirt off it. Who would have lived all the way out here instead of in the city with everyone else?
One large clod fell away, unveiling the rest of the carved symbol. My heart stopped. For a second, I could only stare at it.
“What?” Hatter said, sounding puzzled.
That image didn’t mean anything to him at all?
I traced my finger over
the lines. A faceted gemstone—radiant cut, I thought from my occasional daydreaming perusals of engagement rings styles—with a teardrop in the center.
“This symbol is carved onto the box Aunt Alicia left me,” I said. “The one the key we just got is supposed to open.” My gaze roved over the wall embedded in the hill. “What is this?”
“I don’t know,” Hatter said, his forehead furrowing as he examined it. “I’ve never seen that mark anywhere before.”
I straightened up and stepped back, clutching my tote bag close to my side. The lump of the key pressed against my thigh.
I knew where I had to go to find my answers. The ache in my legs felt distant compared to that mission.
“Let’s go,” I said. “We can eat that lunch while we’re walking. I’ve got to get home and find out what Aunt Alicia left for me.”
“We’ll play it a little differently this time,” Chess said as we approached the flashing spinning top that was the Caterpillar’s Club. “The guards didn’t notice that anyone went through the door last time, so they won’t be suspicious unless I try to pull the same trick. You can hang back, and I’ll whisper invisibly in their ears. Lead them on a wild goose chase. When you can’t tell what you’re chasing, you can never catch it.” He shot me his usual grin.
“Will we wait until they start giving out the night’s special drink again?” I asked. The cooling night air licked over my legs. I’d changed back into my dress since it seemed to fit the club atmosphere better, and I hated to lose it more than the skirt and tank.
When I’d packed, I hadn’t thought about how I’d bring the stuff back to me. My Otherland tote wasn’t going to fit the club scene at all. I was leaving everything I’d brought with me behind—and bringing back Aunt Alicia’s key, which was dangling under the dress’s bodice from a brass chain Chess had found for me.
Doing without those few things wasn’t a big deal. Besides, I wanted to get swept up in the dancing during this last chance before I headed home without worrying about holding on to anything.
“Acting at that point seems wisest,” Chess said. “And while I may not always have the most level of heads, I can occasionally point it in the right direction. We’ll get you home as many times as you need, lovely.”
He tossed the compliment off his tongue so casually I knew it didn’t really mean anything, but his words sent a flutter through my chest all the same. Hatter might have helped me begrudgingly, but Chess appeared to be getting plenty of enjoyment out of the subterfuge. I didn’t get any sense he saw me as a burden.
Strains of violin mixed with a frenetic beat, filtering through the walls. The key slid between my breasts, a solid weight warmed by my skin. Maybe I wouldn’t be letting that weight go while I danced, but it wasn’t a burden either. It was a doorway into possibilities I hadn’t discovered yet.
“Hey!” Chess said, and waved to someone he’d noticed down the road behind us. “Hatter.”
We slowed so Hatter could catch up, although the slant of the other man’s mouth suggested he wasn’t overjoyed that he’d run into us. I wondered if I could get him dancing again. Melody would definitely tell him that he could stand to loosen up some.
I’d felt connected to him in that brief time when he’d shown a little playfulness. I found myself eyeing his hat, considering whether I’d be able to get away with stealing it a second time.
“Are you keeping an eye on Doria again?” I asked him. It’d been clear last time that he didn’t go to the club to have a good time. “Didn’t you promise her you’d cut her some slack?”
One side of his mouth curled upward at that. “I promised her she could run wild yesterday. Our deal didn’t extend any further than that.”
I suspected his daughter would be negotiating much more rigorously next time.
My heart beat faster as we reached the spinning walls, but I squared my shoulders remembering how easily I’d walked in last time. Picture a door. Believe I could go in, and in I’d go.
I took another step, and with a whine that whipped past my ears, I was standing on the undulating floor. The lights cascading over the room were all different shades of blue, green, and purple today, making the place look like some sort of underwater exhibit. A minty citrus smell tickled my nose. The dance floor was crowded, but not outright packed. We’d come early tonight.
Even if my feet protested after my long walk with Hatter, I’d wanted to squeeze as much joy out of my last hours here as I could, in case I didn’t make it back to Wonderland. I knew without needing the experience that the pricks of pain in my body would fade away as soon as I was spinning to the music.
Chess leaned close to speak by my ear. “Caterpillar’s here today. He doesn’t always come out. He who watches prefers not to be watched.” He made a slight tip of his head toward a tall, thick figure standing near the other end of the room.
At first, with so many people around us and the lights flickering this way and that, I thought the name Caterpillar was just an odd nickname for a totally human guy. Then the man moved, or more like waddled, around the fringes, his bulbous head bobbing out of time with the music, and I realized why he was so tall. His body had an extra segment in his torso, a second chest with its own set of arms just below the first. All of them were gesturing around him as independent limbs. That wasn’t any Halloween costume.
My stomach lurched with horror. Walking animals and animal-human blends was one thing. An elongated dude with extra arms was a whole other level of strange. I jerked my eyes away.
“If we’re lucky, he’ll finish his chat with Rabbit and head back upstairs,” Chess said. From the corner of my eye, I made out the white-rabbit head of the fellow I’d nearly run into in the passages under the club two nights ago.
I grasped Chess’s arm, scanning the crowd for the thinnest patch where we could find a spot, wanting to get on with the dancing and wash the image of Caterpillar from my mind. My gaze caught on a startlingly white shirt flashing with different colors beneath the strobe lights while its wearer moved with the beat. Even if the shirt hadn’t been unusual, I thought I would have recognized that powerfully assured form anywhere.
“Theo’s here,” I said.
Chess’s eyebrows drew together and then arched up. “So he is,” he said. “I suppose even the Inventor needs to blow off steam the old-fashioned way every now and then.” His tone was oddly hesitant, but when I glanced up at him, he gave me his usual grin. “Shall we?”
Hatter’s bronze-brown hat gleamed where he was circulating through the dancers farther to the right. Awareness of the three guys prickled over me with a faint tug, as if I were suspended between them, pulled in all directions simultaneously. I’d never been in the same room with all three of the men who’d shaped my time in Wonderland before.
How could my heart thump like this for all of them?
But Chess was the one standing next to me, the one with his solid arm slipping around my waist, the one who’d gone out of his way for me from the start. I shimmied with him into the mass of dancers.
My feet stung and my calves ached as I shuffled and dipped, but just as I’d expected, the discomfort melted away with the thump of the beat through my body in the wide room. Chess moved with me, a dreamy expression coming over his face. I gave myself over to that song and the next. Then Chess set his hand on the small of my back, drawing me closer to him with a deliberateness that made my heart pound faster than the music.
“Caterpillar’s coming this way,” he said, just loud enough for me to hear with his lips brushing my cheek, and my pulse skipped with a completely different emotion: panic.
“It’s okay,” Chess went on, his body still swaying with mine. “Just follow my lead. He might not even stop at us.”
Caterpillar was stopping an awful lot of places. I caught glimpses as Chess turned us and edged a little deeper into the crowd. The overgrown man hefted his jointed body through the dancers, touching a shoulder here, an elbow there, bending his looming head to make som
e comment. It was pretty much only women he spoke to, I noticed. Just the club’s proprietor making friendly with his clientele?
Chess spun us again, but Caterpillar veered at the same time. A smile pushed into his rounded cheeks as he looked down on the other man.
“Cheshire!” he said, in a booming voice that overshadowed the music. “Never quite as good a party without you.” His beady eyes shifted to me, his gaze skimming down my dress. “I don’t believe I’ve seen your dance partner around here before.”
“I found myself a Dreamer today,” Chess said quickly. “Lovely, isn’t she?”
Follow my lead, he’d told me. Would it be a problem if Caterpillar found out I’d come through a looking-glass? Maybe he’d realize I might be aiming to leave through his?
Ignoring the heavy thud of my pulse, I forced myself to giggle. “Dreamer? What are you talking about? This can’t be a dream. It’s too fucking amazing!”
Caterpillar chuckled. “An attitude I approve of. I can make it an even better dream if you’d like.”
I cringed inwardly at the thought of what he might mean, and Chess’s hand tensed against my back. “No poaching, now, Caterpillar,” he said, keeping his tone light.
“Oh, no, of course not,” the club’s owner said, with a puff of his chest that suggested he considered himself very generous to make that concession. “What do you think of Wonderland, my dear girl?”
I looked around the room as if still star-struck by it all, which wasn’t that hard an emotion to fake. “It’s so bright and flashy! I love it! If this is a dream, it’s the best one I’ve had in a while.”
“I can’t ask for a better compliment than that.” Caterpillar made a beckoning gesture, and one of the servers I’d seen two nights ago sauntered over with a platter of those vibrant mushroom slices. He plucked up a pink-and-violet one and offered it to me. “Don’t miss the refreshments. You’re in luck—we’ve got a particularly potent batch tonight.”
Chess had warned me not to eat the mushrooms last time. He didn’t seem to have any clever ideas for getting me out of this predicament, though. Caterpillar was watching me intently. It would be odd for a person who thought this was a wacky dream to refuse, right?