The Collectors' Society

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The Collectors' Society Page 25

by Heather Lyons


  I’m about to throw caution to the wind when I spot him. There. Upon the white iron-wrought throne, sits a familiar face.

  A line snakes around a gilded, raised platform, many holding cups of tea as they wait. The Hare is currently distracted by a woman straddling his lap, though, and appears to be in no hurry to see any of them.

  I forgo the line and step directly onto the platform. Two ex-card soldiers peel off the wall, their spears ready. “Halt!” they cry in unison, and it’s enough to bring about the Hare’s attention.

  His eyes go saucer wide. He blinks several times and then stands up so quickly the girl slides right off his lap and onto the floor with a loud thud.

  “This is a Hare?” Mary asks. Her eyes travel from the tip of his matted hair to his boot-covered feet in derision. “But . . . he’s a man.”

  “Debatable,” I murmur.

  The Hare falls to his knees. “Your—”

  “Get up already. I would ask you to take me where we may speak in private.”

  Trembling, he stands back up, snatching a nearby brown, long-eared hat. Two long, quick whistles slip out of his lips. The card soldiers immediately melt back up against the wall, allowing one to swing a curtain apart.

  “This way,” the Hare tells me.

  When we follow him behind the curtain, the pulsing music dims significantly. He drops to the ground again, his nose pressing against the floor. I finally do roll my eyes, because really. The Hare is an absurd creature if there ever was one.

  “Your Majesty,” he moans. “Your Majesty.”

  “Is this guy for real?” Victor asks.

  The Hare’s head pops up as if he hadn’t noticed my companions yet.

  “Unfortunately,” I tell Victor, “yes. Very.” To the Hare, I say, “Where is the Hatter?”

  His lower lip quivers. “Busy.”

  I’ll just bet he his. “Let us unburden him them.”

  The Hair scuttles backward before leaping to his feet. “Your Majesty, if you just wait, I think it would be less—”

  “I believe,” Finn says in a low voice, stepping next to me, “The Queen of Diamonds told you to do something.”

  The Hare jumps about two feet off the ground when he takes Finn in, but he nods and twists his way down the darkening hallway before us.

  We follow, but something pricks at my belly. It’s the first time Finn has called me by my title—and I’m not sure how I feel about it. It isn’t like I haven’t heard that term enough. Goodness knows that for years, it was all I heard. I wasn’t really Alice anymore. I was simply the Queen of Diamonds. But from him?

  It lends a connection to Wonderland and my past that unnerves me.

  The Hare stops before a door with a yawning knob. “Are you sure, my lady? Because I can take you to a much more comfortable room and have the Hatter come directly to you. We have a fresh jug of juice—”

  He acts as if I haven’t caught the Hatter in a compromising position before. “Open the door, Hare.”

  His Adam’s apple bobs as he asks the knob to open. The door clicks and swings wide. The scent of incense flavored by arousal hits us like a storm passing by. There, on an immensely large bed covered in emerald velvet, is a very naked Hatter surrounded by at least a dozen naked men and women in various sexual acts. He’s got his head thrown back as a woman suckles his throat and a man licks a line from his belly button to his obscenely large, erect penis.

  “Good God.” Mary’s voice in unnaturally high. “Is this . . . is this an orgy?”

  Victor is stunned. Finn is too, although after a split second, he’s clearly fighting to hold back his laughter. “Clear the room, Hare,” I tell the quivering mess standing next to us.

  I step to the side and wait as the Hare goes around the room, ordering people out. There are tears and confusion—so many of Hatters paramours are high as kites, teetering on the point of insensibility. Hatter himself continues to lounge on his bed, languidly puffing away on a hookah pipe as people shuffle out of the room, clutching their clothes.

  Finn leans back against the wall next to me, his arms crossed. “Is this normal?”

  “For these two? Very, I’m afraid.” I peek over at Mary; she’s turned her back to the mess and appears to be lecturing Victor about keeping his eyes averted, too. “Is it wrong that I am delighted to find something that has finally rendered Mary prim and proper? And your brother, too?”

  He finally laughs. It’s quiet, yet I feel this warm, beautiful sound deep in my bones. “Sometimes, she can’t help it. She grew up in a very prim and proper environment. As did you, if I remember correctly.”

  “Wonderland corrupted me. This is,” I motion at the scene before us, “sadly, commonplace. Modesty isn’t always one of the highest prized virtues around here.”

  When his eyebrows lift in amusement, my cheeks flare scarlet. “Not that I’m saying I personally don’t appreciate modesty.”

  “Oh, of course.”

  I bite my lip to keep from giggling. “And you?”

  Finn’s head tilts to the side. “Are you asking me if I prize modesty? Or if I grew up around this sort of stuff?”

  I wave my hand toward the few stragglers that are being shoved out the door by the Hare.

  “Let’s just say I didn’t grow up in the prim and proper environment you and Mary did.”

  “So orgies were common?”

  “Morning, noon, and night,” he says with a straight face. My heart significantly swells at his teasing. But as much as I want to throw my arms around his neck, I know we’re here for a specific purpose. Once the door is shut, I tell the Hare, “Ensure it is locked so that no more revelers slip in.”

  “Who are these sweet treats you’ve brought me, Hare?” Hatter slurs. He’s yet to get off the bed, and if he realizes all of his guests have gone, he doesn’t show it.

  I shove my hood off and pass the Hare my cloak. “You’ve never thought me sweet before. In fact, more than once you’ve accused me of becoming too serious for your tastes. Has my absence changed your opinion so much?”

  The Hatter goes still, his hookah pipe halfway to his mouth.

  The Hare drops to the ground, his nose once more touching the floor. The Hatter, on the other hand, crawls onto his knees on the bed, blinking repeatedly as he takes me in. Surprisingly, this does nothing to lessen his erection. Frabjous. “I see your drug use hasn’t ceased. I’m rather disappointed in you.”

  “Is this—this cannot be. The Queen of Diamonds here, in my chambers?”

  I clear my throat meaningfully.

  This has him scrambling off of his bed so he can prostrate himself next to his compatriot. “Forgive me, my lady. Had I known you were to arrive, I would’ve ensured that—”

  “That what? You weren’t in the midst of an orgy?” I tsk. “It’s getting old, catching you like this.”

  He grovels incoherently.

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake. Stand up already. I don’t have time for your incessantly bothersome games.”

  They’re both on their feet in a flash.

  Mary snaps, “For Christ’s sake, get some clothes on!”

  The Hatter’s almond eyes narrow until they are hooded as he takes in Mary and then Victor and Finn. “Who are these delicious creatures, Your Majesty? Have you finally wised up and got yourself some concubines? And might I say, beautiful ones? Does His Majesty know?”

  Mary sucks in an outraged breath when he reaches a beckoning hand out toward her.

  I’m about to smack it back when Victor does so. But rather than frustrate the Hatter, it only leaves him even more aroused.

  “They,” I tell the Hatter, “are of none of your concern. I need you to open up my vault for me.”

  Behind us, Mary mutters indignantly about concubines and idiots. But the Hatter’s attention has now shifted toward Finn, and if a person could undress another with their eyes, that is exactly what this nincompoop would be doing.

  I snap my fingers, starling him. “Do not disrespect
me, Hatter.”

  His blinks, his glazed eyes having trouble focusing. “But you told me to never open it for anyone.”

  I grab his ear and yank him across the room toward a chair bearing cast-off clothes. While I’m quite used to the Hatter’s inappropriateness, I’m unnerved by the way he dared to look at Finn just now. “The order was to leave it unopened for anyone other than the Queen of Diamonds.”

  The Hatter yelps when I let go. He falls to his knees again, prostrating himself before me, and not for the first time, I want to strangle him. “This is maddening. Get up, Hatter. I don’t have all day for your ridiculousness.”

  He crawls over to where I’m standing, and wraps his arms around my legs. “Beautiful Queen, I am, as I always have been, your most loyal servant.”

  I let out an irritable sigh. Ha! The Hatter is loyal as long as you pay him large sums of gold. “If you are loyal, you will get up, get dressed, and take me to my vault.”

  “His Majesty will be upset if I open it.” The Hatter presses his face against my knees. “Told me just . . .” He peers over at the trembling Hare. “When did we last see His Majesty?”

  My heart jumps in my chest.

  The Hare briefly glances over at Finn and Victor. “Eleventy, I believe.”

  The Hatter nods. “Exac-a-tally. He asked if I had ensured your things were untouched. Worried, I think, that perhaps one of the nasties had found it. Told me that if it was opened without his knowledge, bad things could happen. He’s always concerned that we’re doing as we’re told.” He drags a finger across his neck before attempting to burrow his head in my skirts and mumbling nonsensically.

  I’m surprised when Finn forcibly drags him off my body. “As am I. I believe the Queen told you to do something.”

  The Hatter stares up at him with stars in his glazed eyes.

  “Get him dressed,” I tell the Hare. He scrambles over to where the Hatter is still laying, still undeniably aroused to the point he must be in pain.

  I let out yet another irritable sigh. The sooner we can get to my vault, the sooner I don’t have to deal with these fools and their patented ridiculousness any longer. “Hatter, I am positive His Majesty said what he did when it was believed I would not be present to claim any contents. You are to take me there immediately.”

  He faceplants as he attempts to put his legs into the pair of pants the Hare is haphazardly holding. “Yesh, Blurgh Memmisee.”

  “Sober him up,” I tell the Hare.

  He dashes over to a nearby table and grabs a large pitcher of water. Before the Hatter can get to his feet, the Hare dumps it all over his head. And then, before another word can be said, he hauls his hand back and smacks his boss directly across the face. I discreetly take a step back when the gasping, sopping man shakes droplets out of his hair. He buttons his pants incorrectly but finally stands at full attention. “Follow me, Your Majesty.”

  Well, he’s still slurring, but at least he’s vertical.

  We exit through a door hidden behind another curtain just behind the bed. Both the Hatter and the Hare grab torches and light them to illuminate the musty darkness.

  Behind me, Victor asks, “What’s in this vault?”

  “Wonderlandian weapons.” I then call out to the Hatter, “We will require clothes. Two women’s outfits, two men’s. Nothing that will have us standing out in a crowd.”

  The Hare hands the Hatter his torch and veers off into a different corridor. We walk in silence for the next minute until the Hatter stops at a metal door. “Are you sure, Your Majesty?”

  “Get on with it already.”

  He holds out a hand and a key materializes in his palm. The doorknob rouses the moment the key touches its lips. Garbled resistance to the Hatter’s efforts ensues until its eyes fall on me. And then the knob opens its mouth wider and closes its gold lips around the key before a click is heard.

  The door swings open. The Hatter quickly shuffles in to light several torches lining the walls. As they flare to life, I’m relieved to find everything exactly as I left them. All except . . .

  “Where is my sword?”

  The Hatter’s eyes swing wildly around the room. “Sword? What sword?”

  “You know exactly what sword I’m talking about.”

  He licks his lips. Holds out a finger, as if an idea has freshly struck him. “The vorpal sword, my lady?”

  My nod is tight. What sword, indeed.

  “It was . . .” He dashes over to the spot on the wall where I hung it last. “It was here! I swear it was here the last time I checked!”

  I’m furious. Did he dare sell it on the black market? “And when was that?”

  “The day we locked the door together!” He’s wild with fear. “I haven’t been back yet! I swear it on my life, my lady!”

  The doorknob coughs pointedly.

  “Do not move,” I hiss at the Hatter. I squat down before the doorknob. “Have you been opened since my departure?”

  Its eyes briefly touch upon each person in the room before it beckons me closer. Softly, so no one else can hear him, “Yes, Your Majesty. Just once.”

  Ice fills my veins. Somebody dared to enter my private vault? “By whom?”

  When it whispers the answer right up against my ear, I nearly fall flat on my bottom, I’m so shaken.

  “Was that the wrong thing to do?” it asks worriedly. “I thought—”

  I fight to recover myself quickly, but my heart is beating hard. “No, it’s . . . You did the right thing, Doorknob.”

  It beams as I once more stand up.

  Hands wringing, the Hatter descends upon me only to be blocked by Finn. “I swear, Your Majesty, I—”

  “Back up,” Finn snaps.

  “It is fine.” I fight for a proper breath. “I will simply make do with what is here.”

  The Hatter quickly opens a number of trunks to reveal a number of Wonderlandian weapons. Each piece gleams just as brightly as they day they were packed away. And yet, as I stare down at them, I can’t help but flash back to the bloody battles they’ve seen.

  And now, my trusted vorpal blade is held by another hand, and sentimentality nearly rolls me under.

  “Where is the Caterpillar?”

  When the Hatter doesn’t answer, I turn to face him and repeat the question more slowly.

  He’s ashen. “Dead, my lady.”

  I go still. The air around me stills. Everything stills.

  “The Queen of Hearts captured him three months after you left.” The Hatter’s hurried, slurred words practically trip and slide as they fall out of his mouth. “He refused to concede your royal authority. Got the crowds riled up in your defense. He . . .” The Hatter swallows hard. “She got him during a protest. Crops are failing, Your Majesty. People are going hungry. The Caterpillar voiced his belief that perhaps the wrong monarch left and that Wonderland is making us pay for our sins. Her card soldiers arrested most of the people in the crowd.”

  My stomach sinks. “How did he die?”

  “Public execution, Your Majesty. Every single person she caught at the protest lost their head that day.”

  Mary gasps, a hand raised to her mouth. “What kind of monster does that?”

  “She had the Caterpillar’s head cured so it can permanently be displayed at the entrance of the Heart castle.” The Hatter’s eyes turn glassy.

  Fury mixed with agony burns throughout me. “She dared to execute a Grand Advisor? What did the other Courts say about this atrocity?”

  “The Red and White Courts immediately and vociferously condemned her actions,” the Hatter quickly says. “Once he was captured, there was . . .” He trails off, glancing at the people in the room.

  “Whatever you have to say to me can be said in front of them.” My voice is hard—yet achingly brittle. “They are trusted companions.”

  He nods, swallowing again. “A recovery was attempted, but the Queen moved much faster than any of us expected.”

  “How fast?” I ask. Typical
executions go through a trial first, especially in that court. The Queen of Hearts never passes up a chance for a spectacle.

  “Less than six hours,” he whispers. “No trial was held. Afterward, she gleefully reminded us queens make no bargains.”

  Good God.

  Finn catches my elbow before my knees completely buckle. I ask, my voice embarrassingly soft, “And the head?”

  The Hatter scratches his bare stomach so hard that pink streaks rise up. “A plan was brought up to attempt a recovery, but shortly after that, another Grand Advisor went missing. And then council members. Your Majesty, it is with a heavy heart that I be the first to inform you that Wonderland is at war.”

  “Which advisor?”

  Suddenly, the Hare bursts into the room, his arms loaded with clothes.

  It hadn’t mattered. My leaving hadn’t meant a single thing. War still broke out. People are starving.

  I ask, praying my voice stays steady, “All of the Courts?”

  “All of the Courts are engaged,” the Hatter slurs. “Multiple fronts, with each locked in battle against the others.”

  It takes every last bit of courage to ask, “Are there any other deaths of consequence I need to be informed of?”

  But the Hatter knows exactly what I mean. “Hundreds upon hundreds of innocents, but none of the major players have perished.”

  I want to cry, I’m so relieved.

  “There is a war going on,” Victor says suddenly, “and you two pricks are hosting parties and orgies? Unbelievable.”

  Both the Hatter and the Hare startled at the vehemence. The Hare sputters, “We are lovers, good sir, not fighters!”

  Finn steps into my line of sight. He wraps his hands around my arms, anchoring me in a sea of desolation. “Does this change our plans?”

  “Yes,” I whisper to him. “It changes everything.”

 

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