Corbin

by Melanie Karsak

  Wonderland Academy: Corbin

  Melanie Karsak

  Clockpunk Press

  Wonderland Academy: Corbin ©

  Wonderland Academy: Corbin © Clockpunk Press 2019, 2020

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without permission from the author. This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed are fictional. Any resemblances to the living or dead are purely coincidental. Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Published by Clockpunk Press

  Editing by Becky Stephens Editing

  Cover artwork by KILA Designs

  *Trigger warning: This novel touches on violence in schools and school shootings.

  Created with Vellum

  I almost wish I hadn't gone down that rabbit-hole

  —and yet—and yet—

  it's rather curious, you know,

  this sort of life.

  Contents

  Novel Description

  1. Nan’s Bar and Grill

  2. Mario’s Sacred Quest

  3. Cork

  4. Some People Have it Coming

  5. Curiouser and Curiouser

  6. The Other Alice

  7. Through the Looking Glass

  8. What the Caterpillar Said

  9. Of Teapots, Giraffes, and Wands at the Ready

  10. Playing with Hearts

  11. Cahya

  12. The Hall of Doors

  13. Welcome to the Academy

  14. A History Lesson, Wonderland Style

  15. Just your Basic Intro Classes

  16. Spades Chambers

  17. Check

  18. Of Unicorns, Necromancy, and that Other Princess

  19. Enchantments

  20. Creatures of Wonderland

  21. Checkmate

  The Princess of Hearts: A Wonderland Academy Bonus Story

  About the Author

  Also by Melanie Karsak

  Novel Description

  Welcome to Wonderland Academy. Don’t lose your head.

  Corbin Liddle has always known magic was real. His grandmother Alice raised him on stories of Wonderland. But with Wonderland on the brink of war, Corbin is called to perform an important duty. Alice Lacey Crane, a girl from our world who knows nothing of Wonderland, is the key to the magical kingdom’s future. It’s up to Corbin to protect her at all costs. Even if that means risking his heart.

  Join Corbin in this flipped point of view story, Wonderland Academy: Corbin, Book 1.5 in the Wonderland Academy Series.

  Wonderland Academy: Corbin

  1

  Nan’s Bar and Grill

  I wrapped my hand around the mug of beer and lifted it, taking a long drink of the dark liquid. There was one good thing about this place, the Guinness on tap. My eyes flicked toward the back of the bar. From where I was seated, I could catch a glimpse into the kitchen. Once more, I spotted her yellow hair. Make that two good things.

  Noticing the waitress headed my way, I averted my eyes, looking out the window once more. It had been raining for the last three days. The town, with its dull autumn hues, dark skies, and perpetual rain, was depressing. Sitting along Lake Erie, the place was eternally shrouded in mist. The dark waters lapped against the rocky shoreline. I couldn’t remember being in a more depressing place.

  “Here you go, hun,” the waitress said, setting down my plate. “Want another beer?”

  “Yes, please.”

  She smiled at me. “With manners like that, of course.”

  Was it really so hard to say please? Al, my grandmother, had pounded manners into me. And when I didn’t remember, a birch switch tidied them up around the edges. If there was one thing Al couldn’t abide, it was bad manners.

  I huffed a laugh then looked down at my dinner. American pub food wasn’t much different from back home, but this was the first time I’d ever eaten a salad topped with French fries, steak, and cheese. I studied the dish. I was famished, so it would have to do.

  Once more, I looked through the slats in the partition back to the kitchen. She had made the food. I’d seen her working at the oven, preparing the plate. She was quick at her work. Quick, quiet, and beautiful, with her stained apron, messy bun, and all. She hadn’t noticed me. She never looked into the bar. When she did take a break, she’d sip her coffee and stare off into the distance, her mind always somewhere else.

  I pitied her. A bullet train was speeding her way, and she didn’t even know it.

  Grabbing my fork, I took a bite. Crunchy, salty, cheesy, greasy, and delicious. I polished off the last of my beer as I ate.

  “Here you go, my dear,” the waitress said, setting down a fresh mug.

  “Thank you.”

  “Irish, right? I didn’t want to ask before. Thought it might be rude.”

  I nodded.

  “What in the world are you doing in this Podunk middle of nowhere?”

  I flicked my eyes toward the kitchen for just a moment.

  Watching out for her. “Just passing through.”

  She nodded. “I’d pass through too, if I could. Wave if you need anything else.”

  I inclined my head to her, then turned back to my meal. The dish went down a lot easier than I expected, topping off a stomach too full of stout. My head swam, but not more than it should have.

  I eased back into my seat, sipping my drink, then pulled out my pocket watch. It was nearly midnight. The barflies at the bar were whooping it up as some late-night TV host joked. The light in the kitchen went dim, and soon, I heard the rattle of pots and pans as she cleaned up the kitchen for the night. By twelve-thirty, she and the bartender—her mother—would leave. I nursed my drink as the bartender washed up the last of the dirty cups then pulled off her apron. She chatted with the waitress, then turned and headed to the back.

  “Lacey,” the bartender called. “Ready?”

  I couldn’t hear the girl’s reply.

  Lacey.

  They had told me her name was Alice, just like Granny Al. But no one called her that. I was glad. I’d come all this way expecting to find someone just like my grandmother: bullheaded, loud, and tough as nails. Instead, the Alice I’d found was…sad.

  I rose, set some cash on the table, then pulled on my jacket. The waitress waved as I headed out the door.

  It was pouring, the rain coming down in heavy sheets. I pulled up my hood and headed to the parking lot in the back. Slipping into my truck, I shook off the rain then waited. A few minutes later, the back door to Nan’s Bar and Grill opened.

  The bartender and the girl—Lacey—rushed to one of the cars parked outside. I waited until they’d pulled out of the parking lot to follow.

  Watch her. Keep her safe.

  That’s what they’d told me. It didn’t take much imagination to guess who I had to keep her safe from. Wonderland’s operatives were everywhere in Overthere these days. How much the Queen of Hearts knew about Lacey, I had no idea. Very clearly, the girl knew nothing. But still, I watched.

  Watch her. Keep her safe.

  That’s what they told me to do. That’s what I’d always been told I would do. So that’s what I did.

  Following a discreet distance behind their rusted-out Mustang, I drove down the streets of the little town to the bridge that crossed Tuxedo Creek. It was dark, but I could see the telltale shimmer of the mermaid who lived in the stream. Like all mermaids, she crossed the barrier between this world and Wonderland through the water. Thus far, she was the only Wonderlandian I’d seen. Since she was staying put in her creek, I let her be. But she was there all the
same.

  Crossing the bridge, we came to Lacey’s neighborhood once more. I turned off the lights of my truck and coasted to a stop just down the street from their house. They pulled the car into the driveway of the dilapidated two-story house then ran to the door to get out of the rain.

  I was either getting to be a very good spy, or this girl needed all the help she could get. She never suspected I was watching her. Not once did she look my way. She always had this flat expression on her face, like her mind was elsewhere. Where, I didn’t know.

  Yawning, I slid down into the seat. The porch light went out. A few minutes later, a light flickered on upstairs. The odd, upstairs lighting confused me at first, but then I realized she’d strung Christmas lights on her ceiling. I spotted her silhouette against the curtain. She’d let her hair down. The lights went out.

  “Goodnight, Lacey,” I whispered.

  Watch her. Keep her safe.

  I set my pocket watch on the dash of the truck. Just below the face of the watch, numbers ticked down. Soon, I’d need to go back to Wonderland. Soon, we would both be headed to Wonderland.

  But she had no idea.

  One day, we’d meet. One day, she’d know my name. But how would that sad girl react when she finally realized I’d known her all this time? That I knew everything about her, things she didn’t know about herself. I stared at her dark window. An ill-feeling gripped my stomach. No. It wouldn’t go like that. When I finally spoke to her, she wouldn’t be angry or sad, because I was going to do whatever it took to make that girl smile again.

  2

  Mario’s Sacred Quest

  I woke up late the next morning, my neck cramped from the weird angle I’d slept in. I’d spent two weeks camping out in this truck, and I still hadn’t found a good position in which to rest. I eyed the driveway. The car was still there. She wouldn’t leave until it was time for her shift later that night.

  I yawned tiredly then got out to stretch.

  Across from Lacey’s house was a rundown shell of an old gas station. The building was still intact, but the paint was peeling off, the windows covered in thick dust. The pavement in the parking lot was broken; grass and weeds had taken over once more. The long-dormant gas pumps rusted, a bent streetlight hanging over them. The place had been abandoned so long that when they’d repaved the city street, they’d poured a new curb, blocking the entrance to the parking lot. Nature had retaken the space.

  I headed across the field/parking lot to the abandoned building. Slipping around the back, I found a door with a rusted chain and padlock. Checking my surroundings, I pulled out the wand hidden in my back pocket.

  “Into pieces,” I said, aiming the wand at the lock. The lock and chain shattered with a cloud of rusty, red dust. Opening the door, I slipped inside.

  The old, cracked black-and-white checkered linoleum had seen better days. The place looked like someone had shuttered the doors in 1950 and hadn’t looked back. From the chrome chair behind the ancient cash register to the yellowed poster of a pinup calendar girl half-hanging on the wall, everything screamed of a different era.

  It had been like that at Granny Al’s home too. Except there, everything had screamed Wonderland. As a boy, I hadn’t known anything about Wonderland. I’d just thought Al was…eccentric. No. As a child, I’d thought Al was crazy. And my da just as bad. It was no surprise my mum had run off and left us. Maybe it was because Al and Da were so peculiar. But maybe it was just because of Wonderland.

  “All of this,” Mum screamed. “All of it. I’m done with all of it!”

  From my room in the back of Granny Al’s house, I heard the sound of china shattering. I was six at the time. From as far back as I could remember, Mum and Da had fought like they hated one another more than they loved each other. And for some reason, I knew Al was at the heart of it.

  Grabbing my teddy bear, a stuffed brown bear I’d loved so hard I’d worn his button eyes off, I crept from my bedroom to the kitchen to find my mother tossing all the teapots and teacups onto the floor.

  “I’m sick of it. All of it. The two of you are driving me mad. I’m taking Corbin and leaving!”

  They hadn’t seen me. The teddy stuck under my arm, I clung to the doorframe and watched the scene unfold, my body frozen with terror at the thought she’d take me from Da and Granny Al.

  “Pssh,” Al said, blowing air through her lips. “You want to go, go. But you are not taking that boy.”

  My da sat quietly at the kitchen table.

  “Albert,” Mum railed at him. “Someone tried to kill you today. Kill you! The two of you are going to get us all murdered. And for what? Fairy tales.”

  Al laughed then turned to my dad. “Well, Albert?”

  “Lottie,” Da said gently to Mum. “I told you when we got married—”

  “You didn’t tell me everything. Hell, you didn’t really tell me anything!”

  “The boy is not going. So you might as well be on your way,” Al said dismissively.

  Red-faced, tears rolling down her cheeks, my mother grabbed her purse and the suitcase sitting at her feet. “This is your last chance, Albert. Leave this place. Leave her and come with me. We don’t have to live like this. Corbin doesn’t have to grow up like this.”

  “Lottie, please,” my da said, pain in his voice.

  “Ugh,” Mum screamed angrily. She snatched her keys out of the candy dish then marched out of the house.

  “Lottie,” Da called, racing after her. The screen door slapped closed behind him.

  I could hear them arguing in the yard outside.

  “You can come out now, Corbin,” Al said. “Be careful of the broken glass.”

  Tiptoeing around the shards, I went to Granny Al and climbed into her lap. She was a frail thing, all her bones jutting out. Even then, I knew she was old, ancient. But what I didn’t know then was that time in Wonderland worked differently.

  “Is Mum leavin’?” I asked.

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Is she going to come back?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “She didn’t even say goodbye.”

  Al pulled me close and kissed the top of my head. “I know.”

  “Why is she going?”

  “Because…” Granny Al began then paused. “Because some people are born seeing the world black and white. And other people are born seeing the world as a kaleidoscope of moving colors. Your mum sees only black and white.”

  “And Da sees the colors?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you?”

  Granny Al laughed then whispered in my ear, “I’ve seen colors no one even imagined yet.”

  “Do I?” I whispered in a small voice.

  “Hmm,” Al said thoughtfully. “I don’t know. Want to take a test?”

  “Is it hard?”

  “No. Not really. Let me show you something. Tell me what you see. All right?”

  “Okay.”

  She rose, moving me onto her chair. She then removed the teacup she always wore on her belt. Holding it by the handle, she waggled her fingers over the rim. A moment later, I saw something strange. Glimmering pink and gold light steamed out of the cup. Granny Al whispered under her breath and pointed the magical light toward the broken china on the floor. A moment later, wisps of magic flew all around the room. And before my very eyes, the shattered pieces of the teacups and teapots wiggled to life. Slipping across the floor, they reformed once more. When they were done, they flew off the floor and back into the cupboard, the door on the cabinets clapping closed with a bang.

  Outside, I heard Mum’s car engine rev and Da yelling. A moment later, gravel crunched as the vehicle pulled away.

  “There now,” Granny Al said, putting her teacup back on her belt. She clapped her hands then looked at me, her wide blue eyes studying my face. “Now, your test. What did you see?”

  “The cups mended themselves.”

  “No, they didn’t. I mended them.”

  “What do you me
an?”

  “I mended them. With magic.”

  “Oh,” I said, then stared at the cupboard. “Where did you learn how to do that?”

  “Wonderland.”

  “Like in the story?”

  “Like in the story.”

  “Is it…is it a real place?”

  Al laughed. “More real than this place.”

  “Can I go there?”

  “Oh, yes. You must. You have an important job to do in Wonderland.”

  “What is it?”

  “You must protect the princess. That’s your job. To protect the princess.”

  “Who told you that?” I asked, not feeling so happy to learn I had to look after some princess.

  “The Caterpillar, of course. It’s your destiny.”

  “But I don’t really like princesses.”

  “Doesn’t that funny little man in your video game save the princess? The Italian chap?”

  “Mario?”

  She chuckled. “Is that his name?”

  I nodded.

  “Good. Then you be like Mario and protect the princess.”

  “But Granny Al, you didn’t tell me.”

  “Didn’t tell you what?”

  “If I passed the test.”

  “You, my boy, were born to see colors. All of them. Even the secret ones no one else sees but me,” she said, then kissed me on the head once more.

  And while my heart was a confused mess about my mum, knowing then that I was special meant everything to me. What Al neglected to tell me was that special people like us had a death sentence hanging over our heads. And in a year’s time, Granny Al’s ability to see all the colors, even the secret ones, would cost her life.