“Maybe later,” I say, because the more time I spend here … the curiouser and curiouser I get.
This prophecy though, I have a hard time believing it's about me. Well, okay, as Tee said quite clearly—about the Alice. But how do they know I'm her? And why should I be? What is an Alice anyway?
“You ask a lot of questions of yourself,” Lar says, flicking his cigarette onto the path and stepping on it with the brown boots he borrowed from Rab. He looks a bit like a prince, too, with that white jacket slung over his shoulders, his blue-blonde hair fanning across his forehead as he turns to look at me. “I can see them running through your head, flitting behind your eyes.”
“So your prophecies extend to more than just … HD video on your wings, huh?” The joke falls flat and it's pretty clear none of the men have a damn clue what I'm talking about. I just sigh and keep walking, the smells of the forest familiar and foreign all at once. I recognize the rich scent of wet earth, the gentle pungency of rotting foliage, the muskiness of the mushrooms. But there are strange scents, too, ones that seem so out of place—the bright kiss of a rose, the copper stink of blood, the whisper of overripe fruit.
“I can read palms, tea leaves … entrails.” Lar flexes his wings as he speaks and I notice both Tee and Dee watching him with a certain amount of envy. Dee does that thing where he reaches his fingers up to his own shoulder, touching it softly and then drawing his hand away abruptly when he realizes he's doing it. “Whatever you like, little Sunshine.”
“How do you all know I'm the Alice?” I ask, my eyes flitting from Lar's blue and black wings to North's thrashing tail to Rab's bloodred stare and twitching ears. Compared to the other three men, the twins look almost normal in their long military coats, striped shirts, and jewel-toned eyes. “I mean, how do you know I'm not some random girl that found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time? I literally fell down that hole into Underland. It could've happened to anyone.”
“It could've happened to anyone,” Lar repeats, his voice as smooth as silk. He doesn't hurry with his words, instead letting them fall from his lips like each syllable means something important. He has a deep, husky sort of voice, and I can only imagine what that'd be like in the bedroom, slow sweet things murmured into the shell of my ear as … As I drag my mind out of the gutter because there are far more important things to worry about than getting laid. “But it didn't, did it? It happened to you.”
“And you saw that in a prophecy?” I ask as we pass over a large stream, booted foot loud against the curved wood of the bridge. As we cross, the wind hits the water, chilling and pressing against my heated skin like a caress, giving me a brief reprieve from my overheated body.
“We all did,” North adds, his voice a growl that matches well with his horns and tail. “All the king's horses and all the king's men.” He flashes a grin over his shoulder at me, and if his teeth are a little sharper than they should be, who would notice with a face that handsome? “Clear as day, you are the Alice, Miss Liddell.”
“Is that how you knew my full name?” I ask as we step off the bridge and onto a dirt road that looks much the same as the one we've been traveling all day. “Because of the prophecy? Because I haven't told anyone here my last name and it's been bugging for me hours.”
“Lar's prophecies are just snippets in time,” Dee explains for me as Rab pushes one of his sleeves up to stare at a clock tattoo on his left bicep. “Like what you saw with the jubjub bird. We knew your first name from what little we saw, but your last? It was just a matter of fact that you'd have the Liddell blood—that's what makes you an Alice.”
I blinked a few times and then scrunched up my brow, the satchel swinging at my side. As promised, the dress Edy had bought for me was completely free of blood. Even the harlequin patterned tights were clean. This Bill guy might be a lizard, but he was also one hell of a housekeeper.
“My mother's family's always insisted the women keep their last name and pass it along to their daughters,” I say, and look up just in time to see Dee and North looking at me like they're not quite following. “Back in my world, women usually take the last names of their lover.”
“Which one?” Rab asks, smoking another cigarette. I'm over here panting and he's puffing away like he's on an afternoon stroll instead of a grueling daylong walk.
“Back in my world,” I repeat with a sigh, “most people only have one lover.”
I can feel all five men turning their eyes in my direction, their curiosity as piqued by the idea of monogamy as mine was when they started discussing the tapped mobile network and how useless their phones were without a reliable safeguard against spies. Considering we're walking on foot through medieval looking woods, that was certainly interesting.
“One lover,” Dee muses and then shakes his head like he's having trouble imagining the idea. “Why?”
“Because in most parts of the world, there are equal numbers of men and women …” I hedge, adjusting the strap of my satchel. It's almost pitch black now, the only light coming from the stars, the moons, and the mushrooms. It's barely enough to see by, so I stick close to Tee's left side and hope he knows where he's going.
“And that means what, exactly?” Lar asks, his wings glowing faintly in the shadows.
“Just … that … I don't know. Fuck, I'm so brainwashed by the patriarchy and society's heteronormative expectations that I don't even know how to answer your question. It's just the way things are in most places—one man and one woman. It's stupid, I know, and I'm not saying there aren't any gay people, just … even they usually go the monogamous route.”
“Sounds dreadful,” Rab says, his cold voice sending chills down my spine—good ones, too. That's how nutty this world is making me. I'm even attracted to the guy who turns into a giant wolf with rabbit ears. “Boring, too. How can one person fulfill the needs of another? Doesn't that get tiresome after a while?”
“I …” I start, but I don't really know what to say to that. I think of my parents, of dad sitting alone in the living room with his head in his hands, missing his wife and his son and hating the whole world. “The only boyfriend I ever had was a total prick, so … I guess I'm not qualified to answer your question. He could've been one of a dozen boyfriends and he still would've been a total piece of shit.” I shrug my shoulders like it doesn't matter, like I didn't try to break up with Liam, didn't find myself drugged and lying on the floor helpless while he and his friends removed my clothes …
If it hadn't been for Frederick, they'd have gang-raped me and then what? The look on Liam's face as I lied there that night, the violent scowl as he tore his hard cock from his pants and put it near my mouth … I don't doubt there was a chance he might've killed me. But then Fred came in swinging that baseball bat and there was just suddenly blood everywhere …
I squeeze my eyes shut to block it all out and nearly end up face-first in the dirt. The only thing that keeps me upright is Tee's hand on my elbow, his fingers warm even through the fabric of the shirt. When I open my eyes, I can see him staring at me with a curious expression on his face. Wonder if they'd still think I was the Alice if they knew how messed up inside I am?
Or that my brother is dead because of me.
That my mother is in prison.
That my dad's forgotten how to do anything except breathe, eat, and work until he can barely stand up straight, his shoulders drooped from exhaustion.
“So you're telling me it's my bloodline that makes me an Alice?” I ask, and if that's the case then I feel a slight sense of reprieve. I'm not the only living Liddell woman. Besides my mom and sister, I have three aunts and six cousins. Any one of them could've fallen down the Rabbit-Hole … Any one of them and yet … it wasn't them, it was me.
Lar is probably right.
“It's in the blood,” Lar confirms, his wings curled slightly at the edges. I wonder if he's like, considered fae or something. Or if they even have faeries here in Underland. I guess if they do, they'll probably call them somet
hing outrageous—like a mome rath or a borogove. “When your ancestor fled the Looking-Glass after the Riving, she left with all of her magic intact. And she left knowing that her or someone in her line would be needed to set things right again.”
“So what, exactly, is it that you're expecting me to do here? Hate to tell you, dude, but I don't have magic and I don't have powers and even if I did, I wouldn't know how to use them.” As we walk, Tee reaches into his pockets and then pauses, extracting the white mushroom meat first from one pocket and then the other before handing both pieces over to me.
I take them, liking the way my fingertips feel against his warm palms, and then tuck them into my satchel. I wonder what it would feel like to shrink … or grow to the size of a house? Maybe before I leave this place, I should sneak a bite just to see. After all, when the hell else am I ever going to get a chance to try something so fantastical. No, as soon as I get back home, that gray fog that's been sitting over my life for years will get just a little bit thicker, a little bit harder to see through.
“But you do have magic and you do have powers or else wielding the Queenmaker would've been impossible,” Rab says, his left ear swiveling in my direction. “Nobody expected you to drop in fully trained and ready to fight a war. The king is well aware of the limitations of his new bride.”
“I'm not anybody's bride until I say yes,” I snap and feel both Dee and Tee tense up.
“Normally, that would be quite the obvious statement,” Rab continues, seemingly unbothered by the fact that some guy's declared himself my betrothed without my even having met him. “But not when it comes to the King of Hearts. Nobody says no to the king.”
“Yeah, well, he hasn't met me yet, now has he?” I ask, noticing a rainbow twist of mushrooms in the brush. They curve between the trunks of towering trees like a colorful little river, mimicking the streaks in my hair. As I'm admiring their vibrant colors and faint glow, a green fucking pig trots out and starts rooting around with its snout. I cock a brow, but really, a pig's a pig—even if it's skin is the same color as the grass on either side of the pathway.
“Oh, I can't bloody wait to see his reaction to you,” the Duke purrs, his tail flicking in amusement. “He isn't used to be challenged by anyone but me.” The look he casts over his shoulder is wicked, and I remember once again that other Rabbit, the one I saw through the keyhole of the little door, calling him savage. He looks savage right now, his teeth white in his tanned skin, the moonlight causing his horns to reflect strange shadows across his face.
“Just to be clear—my sister could've easily slipped into the bushes and fell and then she would be the Alice, she would be the king's betrothed. Am I right?” I ask, just trying to gather some clarification. Maybe it should bother me that I'm not the one and only chosen one. But it doesn't. If anything, I feel relieved. I don't want to be this world's savior. How can I save a world I didn't even know existed until a few days if I don't even have the strength to save myself?
“There was a ten percent chance your sister would come instead of you,” Lar admits, looking back at me, his earrings and hair swaying with the movement. His smile leaves his entire face an enigma, making him impossible to read. I imagine he's one of those people that are fucking insufferable to be around on a regular basis—like Edith. Fuck, these guys would've been better off if she'd fallen through instead of me. Of course, Edy would've had a conniption at all the weird shit, but she also would've swooned at these guys' feet, too. From what little I could see of the king, he was hot as hell. She'd have happily married him—especially if it meant being a queen. “If she had though, there was also only a ten percent chance she could save Underland—as opposed to your thirty-five percent.”
“Thirty-five percent?” I ask, raising both brows. “Those aren't great odds.”
“They were the highest possible odds out of all the living Alices,” Lar says, slowing down to walk in line with me and the twins. “The king had me check every possible divination source and the results were clear. Well, as clear as fogged window ever really is. You can make out shapes and color, but you never really know who is looking in at you until it's too late.”
We stare at each other for a long moment, and I realize that his eyes are the same color as mine—a gentle robin's egg blue.
“What are you anyway?” I ask and he cocks a pale blue-blonde brow at me. I keep trying to think of an adjective to describe the man's hair color but it's as elusive as the man himself. “A faerie?”
“What are you?” he replies, that same sardonic smile plastered across his face. “An Alice?”
I roll my eyes and keep walking, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. In the distance, something screams, a bloodcurdling nightmare of a screech, like death and dismemberment made sound. Something out there is dying a painful, painful death.
“Maybe we should walk a bit faster, Rab?” Dee suggests and the rabbit-eared man sighs, dressed in a black waistcoat and purple button up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, pinstripe slacks and loafers with hearts on the toes. He flicks his newest cigarette out of the way, shakes allover like a dog, and then starts to melt. His hands drop to the ground and his back arches, thick strands of white fur bursting through his clothing as his mouth elongates, filling with razored teeth.
I always thought seeing or hell, being a shapeshifter in real life would be fucking awesome.
Watching the hideous malformation of Rab's body, I'm not so sure. My nose wrinkles and I take a small step back as he rises to his feet and shakes out his black spotted coat. At the shoulder, he's easily as tall as I am—maybe taller.
“Would you like a leg up, Allison-who-isn't-Alice?” Dee asks as I raise both brows.
“This was an option before?” I ask, trying not to feel so goddamn relieved at the prospect of riding on a beast's back—riding Rab.
“Not much of an option,” he growls, turning to look at me with a ferine smile, his lips pulling back from his teeth. His bloodred eyes look into mine as his warm breath feathers over me. “Considering the cost to my dignity?”
“He'll draw other bandersnatch our way,” Dee explains as I grab two fistfuls of fur and feel the twin wrap his hands around my hips. His fingers dig into my bones in the most pleasant way, a reminder of how good it feels to be held like this during sex. Swallowing hard, I let him boost me up onto Rab's back, feeling the thick, warm muscles of the beast between my thighs.
“Female bandersnatch?” I ask and Rab growls in what I assume is an affirmative. “Are all the female creatures in Underland starved for sex or something? I thought there were plenty of males to go around … although it probably sucks to be a lesbian here, huh? Not a lot of choices.”
“Females in Underland are sexually aggressive, a counterpoint to the harshness of the males where you come from,” Tee explains, and I can tell by the way he relaxes his shoulders that he finds comfort in reciting simple facts. “You'll see a lot of that here—the opposite of something you might be used to. Underland and Topside are in direct opposition to one another. When the balance is off …” He pauses just long enough that Dee decides to fill in.
“It causes catastrophic events like the Riving. It's why we lost most of our women—because of the way they're treated in yours.” Dee shrugs his shoulders, but he doesn't know the half of it. I have a feeling everything these guys think they know about my world is hearsay and speculation. “If we don't get Underland sorted, your people are next—and it'll be much worse than the Riving. You won't just see your women turned to men—you might not see anything at all.”
“You're telling me that if I don't stay here and rescue Underland from … whatever the fuck I'm supposed to rescue it from, my world suffers, too?”
Tee purses his lips and Dee chuckles.
“If you believe in the prophecy, then yes.”
Fuck.
I sigh because I know I'm going to have to listen to that stupid poem now. I think about asking Dee to recite it as we walk, but now tha
t my slow ass is perched on Rab's back, he starts to run and the other men follow suit. Not a one of them has much trouble keeping up.
God.
If I were staying here—and I say if because I'm not definitely not—I'd need to workout more. Reading is nice, but it definitely doesn't tone the calves or build up cardiovascular endurance, does it?
I lean forward and curl my hands around Rab's long rabbit-like ears to keep my balance and hide my already chapped lips from the rush of cool air. He shudders a little underneath me, but doesn't protest and before I even realize it, I've fallen asleep.
Cold, wet droplets against my cheeks wake me from an easy sleep, one that—thanks to the day of hard exercise—is dreamless and peaceful, even on the back of a sprinting dog … cat … whatever the fuck it is. A bandersnatch.
The rain that dogged us at the beginning of the day's walk starts to come down in thick sheets, and I dig around frantically in my satchel for the black and white striped umbrella Rab lent me this morning. I pop it open and hold it above my head as Rab's sprint slows into a careful jog and we come around a bend in the road, a soaring white and red manor lit by lightning against the darkness of the trees. Thunder cracks in the distance and I feel my throat tighten as something else screams in the distance, something predatory that isn't a jabberwock, jubjub bird, or bandersnatch. What the hell else is out in these goddamn woods?!
The house itself is beautiful, with red roofed towers and disturbingly detailed carvings of women and men in mourning, tears streaming down their faces. They shimmer with the rush of rain against the white stone and make me shiver.
Rab comes to a stop on the white stones of the circular courtyard and kneels down, waiting for me to slide off. This time, North is there to help, taking my hips and pulling me down the side of the beast, his body crushing me into Rab's warm side.
“Welcome to my home, Miss Liddell,” he growls, stepping back into the rain and letting it plaster his blonde hair to his head, droplets sliding down the slick blackness of his horns. With the umbrella for protection, I ignore the incoming thunder and lightning for a moment to gape at the manor. Most of the windows are stained glass, decorated with red heart motifs that are as pretty as they are redundant. Looking around the heart-shaped hedges, the heart-shaped stone statues, the decorative heart shapes built into the stone mosaic under my feet … it's not all that difficult to remember what kingdom we're in. It feels like I'm being hit over the head with the message.
Allison's Adventures in Underland Page 12