The Mad King

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The Mad King Page 11

by Jovee Winters

A short burst of laughter dropped off her tongue, the sound so achingly familiar that my eyes began to burn with a wet sheen. But I couldn’t give in to the loss of her, not now. Not when I was finally back with her.

  “And how would you know what I’m thinking?” she asked dulcetly.

  A ghost of smile whispered past my lips. “It wasn’t hard. But I want to show you something. I have magic, you see. But in order to use it, I need to link hands.”

  Again she gave me a look like she didn’t trust me, and she was right. I wasn’t exactly being honest. Though I felt the dregs of my magic stirring, it wasn’t my magic I wanted to tap into, but hers.

  Because her power had once been my own, I knew how to harness it to my will.

  “I would weave a story for you,” I said brokenly. “One of love, heartbreak, and possibly, maybe even redemption.”

  “Possibly redemption? Wouldn’t you know if your romance was redeemed?”

  I nodded. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” I grinned, giving her the best nonanswer I could.

  Wind riffled long strands of her thick, jet-black hair, causing it to twist like a serpent through the air. My palm ached. Literally hurt with the memory of how often I’d been able to touch her at will. An act I’d taken for granted once.

  I swallowed hard.

  And maybe it was the haunting sadness lingering in my eyes that swayed her, but finally she reached over and oh so slowly linked hands with me.

  Heart thundering like galloping hooves in my chest, I fought to breathe normally. Just the touch of her flesh, the feel of velvety skin that was at once soft and hard. The only memories I had were ones I’d discovered during my time with Danika, but for just a moment I could remember this intimacy. Remember a time when it had been mine. There were moments of such clarity, where then and now collided and I truly could recall what we’d once been. The memories were always fleeting but carried a wallop with them, leaving a lasting impression on my soul that no amount of time or distance could ever erase.

  We’d been the world to each other once. To know that kind of love even once was a miracle—could I really be so fortunate to know it again?

  She began to tense up beside me, and I knew if I lingered too much longer on our past, I’d lose the very tenuous thread of trust building between us. Squeezing my eyes shut, I focused on the pulsing orb of power within her. Our power.

  The golden warmth of it curled around me instantly, like an old friend coming home, and I couldn’t help the small sigh that slipped from me. I didn’t need much, and I wouldn’t take much. Until we were returned to Wonderland, we could not replenish our stores.

  Using what was available around me, I fashioned fantastical creatures of whimsy.

  First a male, built of frost and snow. He stood no higher than my thigh and was built of solid blue ice. His hair was nothing more than swirls of snow, and on his form he wore dead leaves for trousers and a vest. His top hat was made of woven twigs. Alice sucked in a sharp breath, blinking rapidly, and though she fought the smile, I saw the whisper of it trace across her brows.

  Next, I built the female. But unlike the male, she was a true thing of beauty and magic. Her body was built of the greenest glowing moss, her form exceedingly lovely and feminine. Her eyes were interlinked strands of vines, and her lips glowed the coral red of miniature poppy blooms. Her long, winding hair was long, supple blades of jewel-green grass, and her curve-hugging gown was built of hundreds of miniature budding blooms of white, cream, and pink that wrapped around her figure like a princess gown, much the same way Alice’s gowns once had.

  “Oh, Hatter,” my Alice whispered, and when I turned to look at her, her fingers trembled upon her soft pink lips as wetness shimmered in her eyes.

  I was sure she had no idea what her two tiny words had just done to me, the way they’d made my world feel like it’d suddenly tilted upon its axis, and so I couldn’t resist giving her fingers a tiny squeeze.

  She didn’t look back at me, but I knew she was aware by the way her body oh so slowly and torturously moved against mine. Alice might not remember, but someplace deep inside, there was a part of her that did. The part of her that had promised to fight for me, for us.

  Taking a deep breath, I began our story.

  “Once upon a time, there was a man named Hatter. Madness, insanity, and folly were his lot in life. And though he wanted to live, he felt death’s touch lingering always close by.”

  The ice male looked around, my words giving him life, animation. He glanced around the wasteland of snow and ice with a look so mournful and full of loneliness that I wondered if Alice knew how very little acting was involved in this.

  “Hatter was lost. Dying. And all alone. Until her. Until she who was everything came into his world and made him whole again...”

  Chapter 12

  Alice

  I’d never been as entertained as I was today. In fact, I couldn’t remember a time since my death that I’d laughed so much, watching those beautiful nature sculptures walk through the motions of Hatter’s tale. A natural storyteller he was, and it was so easy to lose myself in the whimsy of his tale.

  How the two had first met.

  The female, fallen through a rabbit hole of all things, landing in a garden of singing flowers as they’d honked and jeered at her. How confused and dazed and even dazzled she’d been by the strangeness of that world, and then she’d turned her eyes upon Hatter, and there’d been a visible transformation in the female.

  It was the strangest thing, but watching that female miniature react to the world and her situations as she had, I was sure I would have acted no differently. Hatter had been high-handed in his mannerisms, forcing her to walk over the rugged and stony terrain barefoot. But then there’d been a moment, at the tree with limbs that weren’t wood at all but snakes, where he’d rescued the female and I’d had to gasp.

  Because that poem he’d recited about snakes of all things had brought a lump to my throat. There the Hatter had stood before a beast capable of ending him, protecting a female he’d vowed he’d wanted nothing to do with. And I could see it for the lie it was.

  Whether the Hatter had realized it or not, his “mine” had gotten to him from the very beginning. Then there’d been the scene after that where he’d finally relented on the hard pace and had taken her to a fairy river to bathe her feet in the magicked waters, healing the bruises and cuts instantly.

  I couldn’t help but sigh as I watched the two of them begin to slowly fall in love.

  But then I’d gone from sighing to laughing as that rascally male had dragged his female through door after door into a land brimming with madness and chaos. It was almost as good as watching a movie on the screen.

  I was enraptured by the strange tale that seemed so foreign and yet weirdly familiar all at the same time.

  Now the pair had arrived at the Hatter’s cottage, inside a teapot of all things, when the miniatures suddenly faded back to their original forms, slipping to the ground in mounds of grass and snow.

  Frowning, I shook my head, staring up at the real Hatter beside me. “What? Why? I was just getting into it.”

  But no sooner had I asked the question than I noticed a pale sheen to his flesh that’d not been there before. His eyes looked shaded and tired; there were dark circles beneath his eyes.

  It was clear he was exhausted and I felt guilty for not realizing it sooner. I wasn’t sure why he seemed not to be faring as well as all the other ghosts I’d encountered in my time here, but maybe he’d been cursed somehow.

  “You’re tired,” I said quickly, and he nodded, dragging his knees to his chest to hug them tight.

  “I hate to agree with you on that, but I am rather.”

  I’d vowed to keep my distance from all ghosts, but I was starting to become a softie I guess. First Amara, now Hatter. I bit the corner of my lip, knowing I should leave but not really ready to yet either.

  There was something about this quiet man I kind of liked.
r />   Dark eyes hooked mine, and as if reading my thoughts, he said, “You don’t have to go yet. If you don’t want to.”

  I sniffed. “I should though. Let you rest.”

  But he was shaking his head. “I’ll be fine, Alice. I just need a minute is all. I have an idea. If you’d like, let us play a game.”

  Lifting a brow, I gave him an incredulous look. “A game? What sort of game?”

  He laughed. And the sound of it was rich and warm and hypnotizing, and my skin tingled everywhere. Feeling suddenly weird and rethinking my decision to stay, I turned my face aside for a moment, fighting back the blush threatening to work itself loose.

  I’d never had this type of visceral reaction to a man before. I grabbed hold of my lower stomach.

  “Twenty questions,” he said, causing me to look back at him, grateful that my skin was darker and hid the heat of the blush.

  “Twenty is an awful lot. How about one honest and truthful question?”

  It was his turn for his brows to twitch. “Not much of a game then. Ten.”

  “Three,” I countered.

  “Deal,” he said smoothly, and my mouth flopped open. I couldn’t help feeling as though he’d just gotten the upper hand somehow.

  “Cheeky bastard,” I said with a grin to take the sting out of my words. “You played me.”

  He shrugged one shoulder unrepentantly.

  Needing to feel more in charge of this “game” than I currently did—not having a clue what exactly I’d gotten myself into here—I lifted a finger. “But I’ll answer only one question a day, so make it count, Hatter.”

  The smile that’d taken hold of his face slipped for a millisecond, replaced with a sorrow so deep that I found myself automatically rubbing at my chest. How had this male died?

  And who, really, was his female?

  I had so many questions, and now I’d imposed a one-question-a-day limit and wanted to kick myself for it.

  “Then that’s perfect, Alice,” he said steadily, never breaking eye contact with me. “So ask, ask me anything.”

  Of all the questions hammering away at me, there was only one I really wanted to know. “What was her name? Her real name?”

  His full bottom lip tipped up at the corner, and his eyes began to glow, and for just a moment I completely forgot how to breathe.

  He was gorgeous.

  Strange how the mind worked.

  I knew he was broken up about his past love, but I couldn’t help but envy whoever she had really been. I didn’t know him, and it felt stupid to even think it, but deep down I felt an attachment.

  Silly, I know.

  And it wasn’t like I’d die if I never got to see him again, been there done that, but I really, really wanted to see him again.

  He’d scared me earlier, and I’d reacted in a way I never had before. I’d flown. Literally flown away from him. Because from the moment I’d seen this strange, quirky, and beautiful male, something deep inside me had screamed an exultant “There you are.”

  It still didn’t make sense to me, and it terrified me not a little, but it was honest.

  He shook his head, causing the shaggy ends of his black hair to drape across his eyes, and I had to dig my fingers into my jeans to keep from reaching out to him.

  “No. Not yet. It’s not time yet.”

  I frowned, wanting to argue the point. Wanting to tell him that learning her true name couldn’t possibly affect anything since I was sure I didn’t know her. Ignoring my furiously beating heart, I tried to remind myself that whatever had been done to Hatter, the end result had been death. And maybe she’d had something to do with it.

  Maybe she hadn’t.

  But when he spoke of her, the echoing pain behind his words was palpable. So I swallowed my need to know and gave a clipped nod.

  “I don’t like it, but I get it. So if you won’t answer that, then maybe you’ll answer this. What was your job before you died?”

  That question obviously was a good one, because he relaxed, leaning back on his hands and staring off into the distance with the ghostly remnants of a smile fixed upon his lips.

  “I don’t exactly have a typical job. I was simply the caretaker to Wonderland.” He glanced quickly my way, as though he waited to see if something he’d just said had made some sort of an impact on me. Since I didn’t have a clue why, I nodded for him to continue. And he did, with a soft sigh. “But I guess if I had to describe it, my job was simply to love her. And that’s what I tried to do, to the very best of myself.”

  I hated the fact that my heart suddenly trembled at those cheesy words. Because they were—they were so cheesy. That was some serious romance-novel stuff there. Men didn’t act like him.

  But then, I couldn’t deny the sincerity and conviction in his words, and coming from him, they weren’t cheesy at all. I had a feeling that whoever the lucky girl had been, she’d known just how loved she really was.

  “Oh,” I found myself whispering. “That’s um... wow. Yeah, that’s some intense stuff there.” Then I laughed, because I felt suddenly overheated and flushed, and the world around us was no longer howling with bitter cold, but a gentle zephyr blew, and tight buds of springtime flowers had started peeking out from beneath the canvas of melting snow.

  I still didn’t know why my moods could alter this world the way they did, and it was kind of embarrassing that he might one day realize my surroundings were completely tied to my emotions, but he didn’t seem fazed by it. So I took a deep breath and hid my shaking fingers beneath my butt.

  “Well, fair is fair, I guess. You answered mine. Now ask yours.”

  Those deeply searching eyes of his that seemed to look beneath my skin into my very soul fixed upon my face as he asked, “What did you love most in life?”

  I frowned. Huh?

  Of all the questions he could have asked, I’d not expected such a benign one. And I was slightly disappointed by it, truth be told. But I’d signed on to play this silly game, and so I would.

  Looking over his shoulder, I began to think of my life. There were holes in there, thanks to my dipping my finger in Lethe, but I could remember bits and pieces. I grinned. “Well, I guess if you asked my friends and family, they would have said baking. I opened up a bakery—cupcakes, in fact.” I frowned, trying to recall what in the heck I’d named the place, but the name completely eluded me. Wrinkling my nose and getting frustrated, I shook my head. Didn’t matter right now. “But, while I did like baking, I think I actually liked singing more. Is that weird?”

  “No,” he said softly. “Music has a magic all its own.”

  Again I was snared by the thought that there was something about Hatter that felt unbelievably familiar. Maybe it was the ache in his voice, so similar to what I’d felt when I’d decided to visit the river Lethe. Or maybe it was those dark, expressive eyes that looked haunted and desperate.

  He cleared his throat, squared his shoulders, and looked quickly away.

  Realizing I’d been traipsing through a strange set of thoughts, I also cleared my throat and gave a self-effacing chuckle. “Yeah. Right. Jeez. I’m in a weird mood today. I think it’s time to go.”

  He nodded, barely sparing me a glance. Standing, I took a step back and then another. But when I glanced behind me and realized he’d not moved an inch and was still staring straight ahead with the look of a man devastated by his lot in death, I knew I couldn’t just leave things this way.

  Walking back to him, I hesitated only a second before grasping his shoulder, marveling at the strength of his flesh beneath my fingers. He was so warm. I’d had no idea we’d still be warm in death, but Hatter burned with the delicious heat of the sun itself, making me feel less cold and more alive for just a moment.

  He looked up at me, a question in his eyes. And I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry you lost her, Hatter. And I hope... I hope—” I bit my bottom lip, not really wanting to say these next words at all, but knowing I needed to make him smile if only for a second. �
�I hope you find her again.”

  Feeling weird, like I was overstepping or something, I went to move away. But he clenched down on my fingers swiftly, squeezing them tight. Not enough to hurt. My breath hitched.

  “I do too, Alice. With all my heart and soul. I do too.”

  His words burned through my heart that night.

  ~*~

  Hatter

  The sun had gone down on day one, and as I sat here in the cold, trying to keep my teeth from clacking together as I shivered violently, I shook my head.

  “She doesn’t remember me at all.”

  “Did you think she would?”

  The voice was deeply masculine, and I didn’t need to look up to know that Hades had found his way to me.

  I glanced up in time to see the Lord of the Underworld kneel before me with narrowed eyes as his gaze raked over me.

  “You’re blue. My dead do not turn blue. She will eventually figure out you’re not dead, and when she does, how do you think she’ll react, male?”

  He shook his head, sighing deeply and causing the winter chill to increase tenfold, making me feel as though I might die of frost.

  “You will not die. At least not for another two days. But already I can see the life being leached from you. How can you bear this? Why would you want to?”

  I frowned, sensing he did not mock me so much as marvel at what he surely thought was my folly. I pitied the god just then.

  “Have you never known love at all, Hades?”

  He snorted. “Me? Know love? I think you’ve mistaken me for my niece. We gods do not care for the sentiment.”

  I shook my head, wondering if I’d ever feel warm again. “I don’t believe that.”

  “And you would know how?”

  The answer was so obvious I was surprised he couldn’t see it for himself. “Because you’re here. You were watching her before you even let me step through your gates. And you still watch her. You’re curious, Hades, admit it.”

  He chuckled, causing the snow-dusted plains beneath my bottom to grumble and groan. So powerful and yet so naïve. I shook my head, looking away.

  “No. You never will. Because you’re a god and you think you already know everything, don’t you?”

 

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