“I heard,” Landon said, leaning back in his chair and slinging an arm around my shoulders. “She’s always been adventurous.”
“Is that code for something?” Sebastian asked.
“Not really.”
“Your girlfriend jumped in strangers’ beds,” Sebastian said. “That doesn’t sound like a very good girlfriend.”
“We’ve moved on from it,” Landon said, changing tactics. “We had a big fight but now we’re over it. She was only doing it to make me jealous.”
“I had to sleep on the couch because of her,” Sebastian complained.
“Let it go, son,” Craig said. “It’s in the past.”
“I didn’t know you were invited to this party,” I said. “Do you know who’s hosting it?”
“Don’t you?” Sheila asked.
“I’m guessing it’s the Mad Hatter,” I said. “Am I right?”
Sheila tilted her head to the side and gave what passed for a smile. “Not exactly.”
I didn’t like her tone. “I have to ask you guys something,” I said, lifting my hand and rubbing Landon’s fingers as they idly moved across my shoulder. “Do you know you’re in a book?”
“Of course we know we’re in a book,” Sheila said. “We’re not stupid.”
“Do we know we’re in a book,” Craig chortled. “For a human, you’re cute.”
“Do you know who wrote the book?”
“The most wonderful scribe in the land,” Sebastian said.
“And who is that?”
“The great and powerful Tillie,” Sebastian replied, solemn.
“I knew it,” I said, pumping my first. “I told you Wonderland and Oz were the last ones.”
“You’re very wise, sweetie,” Landon said, topping off my cup of tea.
“Have you ever met the great and powerful Tillie?” I asked.
“No,” Sheila said. “They say if you look upon her in the flesh you’ll never be seen again.”
That sounded like her. It really did. “Is Tillie hosting this tea party?” Hey, I can hope.
“Of course not,” Craig said. “The great and powerful Tillie doesn’t drink tea unless it’s laced with bourbon. Plus, she’s very busy. She runs the entire land.”
“From where?”
“Here.”
I glanced around. “The castle?”
Sheila nodded. “This is her home.”
“I thought this was the beast’s home,” I said.
“What beast?”
Hmm. It seems some tales had problems crossing over. “How long as Tillie been in charge of this land?”
“Since it was created,” Craig said.
“And when was that?”
“When the world started,” Craig said.
“But … when?”
“Back when she started it,” Craig said, flustered.
“What are you trying to do here?” Landon asked, keeping his voice low. “Are you trying to agitate the bears?”
“No,” I said. “I’m trying to find out whether they have a sense of time.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re self-aware,” I said. “They’re not real, but in a way they’re self-aware. The thought of them … winking out of existence … makes me a little sad.”
“Bay … .”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m not an idiot. I know I can’t change this. I’m trying to get a feeling for what’s going on.”
“Okay,” Landon said, “but I don’t want you to have a broken heart when we finally get out of here. That’s going to be one of the happiest moments of my life. I don’t want you feeling sad about anything.”
I glanced at him, curious. “What are the other happiest times of your life?”
“Are you fishing for a compliment?”
“No,” I said. “I honestly want to know.”
“Well, the first Christmas I remember I got a new bike,” he said. “I remember going down the stairs and seeing it and thinking that nothing could ever be better than that. Then the first time I … you know … that was pretty exciting.”
I made a face.
“Not nearly as exciting as you, sweetie,” he teased.
“You’re still charming,” I said.
“I try.”
“What else?” I prodded.
“The day I graduated from high school. The day I was recruited into the bureau. The day I met you.”
“You hated me the day we met,” I said. “You thought I was mouthy and in your way.”
“That’s not true,” Landon said. “I liked you from the moment I saw you.”
“You’re making that up.”
“I’m not,” Landon said. “That was truly one of the greatest moments in my life. Do you want to know what the single greatest moment of my life was, though?”
I waited.
“The night you told me you loved me.”
My cheeks colored, and I lowered my gaze. “Oh.”
“What about you?” Landon asked. “What’s your greatest moment?”
“Right now,” I said, averting my gaze.
Landon exhaled heavily. “We seriously need to get out of here,” he said. “There are so many things I’d rather be doing right now, and not one of them involves having tea with bears. No offense.”
“None taken,” Sheila said. “I love seeing young people in love. I really hope you survive the sacrifice.”
“Thank you for saying that,” I said, warmth washing over me. “I … wait, what did you say?”
“I hope you survive the sacrifice,” Sheila repeated. “We hear it’s going to be a real bloodbath this year.”
“That’s why we came,” Sebastian said. “We love a good blood sacrifice.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Who is going to sacrifice who?”
“The queen, of course,” Craig said. “It’s her annual tea. She always sacrifices the humans when she hosts a tea.”
Crap. Here was the twist on Wonderland. I gripped Landon’s hand. “We need to get out of here,” I said. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“I’m right there with you,” Landon said, jumping to his feet. “We need to bypass this one right now and get into the castle. That’s where we’re going to find the last story. I think we’re done with this one.”
I scanned the crowd. “Do you see anyone else?”
“I got distracted,” Landon said. “I stopped watching them.”
I jerked my head back and forth, studying the assembled animals. “Do you notice we’re the only humans left?”
“I’m guessing that’s a bad sign,” Landon said.
“I’m guessing that’s the worst sign ever,” I said. “We have to move.” I reached for his hand, but when I met air I swiveled quickly, panicking.
The rabbit was back, and he had a knife at Landon’s throat. “Did you move that toadstool back? I didn’t think so. I can’t stand furniture movers.”
“Let him go,” I ordered.
“I can’t do that,” the rabbit said. “The pleasure of your company is requested for a very special meeting with the queen.”
I ran my tongue over my teeth, conflicted. Had Clove, Thistle, Marcus and Sam already been taken? Was I the only one left standing? Could I fight everyone on my own? I gave in. “Take me to your queen.”
“Run, Bay,” Landon ordered. “Don’t do this.”
“You said it yourself,” I said. “We’re in this together.”
“But … .”
I shook my head. “We’re in this together.”
The rabbit smiled, unleashing a row of razor-sharp teeth. “Follow me.”
“I’ll be right behind you.”
THE rabbit never released Landon as he led us through a thick tangle of trees. In the grand scheme of things, the trek was short. It felt longer because my mind was so busy. How were we going to get out of this one?
Once the trees thinned we found ourselves in a huge clearing. A large and garish throne, all yellow
gold and red velvet, sat empty in the middle of the space, a handful of armored guards standing at either side.
Sam and Clove were on their knees on one side of the throne, two guards watching over them. Thistle and Marcus were in the same position on the other side. I met Thistle’s worried gaze from across the expanse. We were in trouble now.
“Where’s the queen?” I asked.
“She doesn’t show herself until all the sacrifices are in place,” the rabbit said. “You two are the last ones.”
“Awesome,” I said. “I can’t wait to meet her. I’ve heard a lot about her.”
“I’m sure you have,” the rabbit said. “Move up to the spot between the other two couples and kneel.”
“Don’t you dare kneel, Bay,” Landon said.
The rabbit pulled the knife closer to Landon’s throat. “Don’t make me hurt him.”
My gaze bounced between them for a moment. “I’ll kneel,” I said. “Just … don’t hurt him.”
Landon scowled, watching me move to the designated spot. I dropped to my knees. By the time Landon was deposited next to me, two guards were already in place to make sure we didn’t make a break for it.
“You should have run,” Landon said.
“I’m not leaving you.”
“You’re not going to think that’s such a good idea if we die here,” he said.
“We’re not going to die here.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I have faith.”
“That’s good,” Landon said. “Because here comes the queen.”
I lifted my head, frowning as the imposing figure cut a swath through the armored guards and headed for her throne. Her dress was wider than it was tall, and the red was so bright and tacky it hurt my eyes to gaze upon it. It was the face at the top of the dress that threw me, though.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, my heart rolling.
The woman started to speak. “I am the Queen of Hearts. You are here to serve as my sacrifices.”
“Oh, come on,” I said. “I can’t be killed by my own mother! This is … I’m going to kill Aunt Tillie!”
Sometimes the person who you think is your enemy is actually your friend. Sometimes your enemy is your enemy, though. When in doubt, go ahead and curse with impunity. You can always sort out the mess later.
– Aunt Tillie’s Wonderful World of Stories to Make Little Girls Shut Up
Eighteen
“Why is your mother the Queen of Hearts?” Thistle asked, horrified. “I … she would kill Aunt Tillie if she saw that dress. She looks as though she has the hips of a horse. No, it’s more like the hips of four horses.”
I had a feeling I knew exactly why Mom was taking on one of the most bloodthirsty children’s tale roles of all time. “Who was Aunt Tillie furious with before we left the inn last night? Is it still last night? It’s as if we’re stuck in a nightmare that refuses to quit. I have no concept of time.”
“She was angry with Landon,” Thistle said. “He threatened to confiscate her wine.”
“How did he even know about it, though? Who told on her?”
“Oh,” Thistle said, realization dawning. “Right now she sees your mother as the one who betrayed her. She expected Landon to be the bad guy because he’s with the fuzz. She didn’t expect it from our mothers. Is anyone else afraid to find out what she did to our mothers?”
“I’m sure it was just as creative as this,” I said.
“Do you think she put them into a book, too?”
“If she did, I’m betting it was a terrible book,” I said.
“Like Dracula?”
“She probably put them in that new The Walking Dead graphic novel collection she bought last week,” Clove said. “She’s been obsessed with zombies lately.”
Well, that was an interesting thought. Maybe Mom and my aunts had it worse than us after all.
“I would rather be in a zombie book,” Landon said. “At least then I’d probably have a gun. I really feel like shooting someone right now.”
“Mom?”
Landon shrugged, reticent. “Maybe. Don’t ever tell her I said that.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
“Are you done with your little … conversation?” Mom asked, her voice shrill as she glared at us. I felt as though I was eight years old again and we’d just gotten caught plotting how to steal fresh cookies from the kitchen counter. “We have a bit of a schedule to stick to here.”
“A schedule?”
“I have a long speech to make,” Mom said. “I like to talk and talk and talk – even when no one wants to listen. That’s the way I am. Then I have to behead you. After that, I have a tea to get to.”
“Does anyone else find it funny that even while trapped in a book Aunt Winnie is working from a schedule?” Clove asked.
“She’s a control freak,” Thistle said. “They’re all control freaks. I like how she’s describing herself just as Aunt Tillie would, though.”
“You guys are control freaks, too,” Sam said. “Don’t kid yourselves.”
“Hey!” Clove shot him a look. “I am not a control freak.”
“You spent two hours rearranging the shelves in Hypnotic back to the way they were before Thistle dusted the other day,” Sam said, nonplussed. “Everything was still on the same shelf – only slightly off – and you were dancing like you had ants in your pants waiting for Thistle to leave the store so you could fix everything just the way you like it.”
“I knew it!” Thistle seethed, shifting so she could glare at Clove. “I told you those shelves looked different when I came back from the stables and you said I was imagining things. You’re a freak.”
“Those shelves are immaculate now,” Clove sniffed. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about.”
“They were immaculate when I got done with them,” Thistle said.
“Not really.”
“When we get out of here, you’re dead to me,” Thistle said.
“What else is new?”
“I agree that Clove is a control freak like our mothers,” Thistle said, scorching her with a look. “I’m not a control freak, though.”
“You’re the worst one,” Landon said, “only you feel the need to control people, not things.”
“Whatever,” Thistle grumbled. “You’re the bossy one.”
“I’m not bossy,” Landon shot back. “I’m … .” He looked to me for help.
“Handsome,” I supplied.
“You’re supposed to say I’m not bossy,” Landon said.
“Oh, I didn’t know you wanted me to lie,” I said.
“If I had a list, you’d be at the top of it right now,” Landon said.
I couldn’t help but smile. “I’d be happy to be at the top of your list.”
“See, now you’re cute again.” Landon leaned over and kissed me.
“What is going on here?” Mom’s voice was unnaturally shrill. “You’re about to be sacrificed and you’re … having a good time?”
Landon dissolved into hearty guffaws as he shifted from his knees to his rear end and sat on the grass. He laughed so hard his shoulders shook.
“Landon has officially lost it,” Thistle said. “He’s been pushed too far. His mind has shattered.”
“Are you all right?” I asked, worried. He did look a little deranged.
“This has been one of the worst nights of my life,” he said, running his hand through his disheveled hair. “I’ve been hit on by a foulmouthed mermaid. I’ve had to shove an unconscious witch into an oven. I’ve lost my girlfriend and had to steal her back from some ponce in tights who stole her shoe and screamed like a woman.
“I’ve been turned into a beast and had to fight a giant,” he continued. “I seriously thought my heart was going to rip in two when Bay put herself in danger … but then she was the one who saved me. Then I had tea with some bears and now my girlfriend’s mother is going to behead us.”
“Yup,
he’s lost it,” Clove said.
“This has also been one of the … best nights of my life,” Landon said, rubbing the back of his neck wearily.
I raised my eyebrows. “It has?”
“I saw you dressed like a princess and I got to carry you around,” Landon said. “I got to watch Thistle stab a wolf while wearing a red cloak. You figured out I was a monster and still wanted to kiss me. We’ve gotten to talk and hang out and spend time together.
“Sure, climbing the beanstalk was terrible and I’m really not looking forward to being beheaded … but I wouldn’t trade the time I’ve spent with you tonight for anything,” he said.
“I think I might cry,” I said.
“Me, too,” Clove said, putting her hand to her heart. She used her free hand to punch Sam in the arm. “How come you never say romantic things like that to me?”
“I think I’m going to puke,” Thistle said. “I can’t believe that you’re making some grand pronouncement now. Can’t you help us get out of this situation and then get all schmaltzy?”
“You and I are cut from the same cloth,” Mom said, pointing at Thistle. “That was utterly ridiculous.”
“I told you that you were becoming a villain,” I said when Thistle balked.
“I am not a villain,” Thistle said, placing her hands on her hips and shaking her head angrily. “Just because you like things the way you like them does not make you a villain. Am I mean? Yes. I don’t always mean to be. I can’t control what comes out of my mouth sometimes.”
“That’s a family trait,” Marcus said. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“That’s not the point,” Thistle said.
“What is the point?” I asked.
“The point is I’m not a villain,” Thistle said. “I’m a … complicated princess.”
“Oh, you’re definitely a princess,” Marcus said, running his hand over her short-cropped hair and pulling her over so he could kiss her forehead. “You’re the best princess ever.”
“Oh, now I’m jealous of Thistle and Marcus,” Clove complained.
“I always treat you like a princess,” Sam said. “I resent you going all … pouty … when these two spout platitudes because I’m always making romantic pronouncements. I read you poetry the other night and then watched The Notebook with you. I never complained once. I’ve always been your prince.”
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