Page 16

Chapter

Fourteen

T he hare clambers back onto his chair between bouts of hysterical laughter, while the guy with the hat widens his arms and gestures to the empty chairs surrounding the table.

“We don’t have time for this,” Charming grumbles. “We need to push onwards to complete our quest and return to our world.”

“There’s always time for tea,” the guy answers.

True. Particularly when there is cake involved.

I take a seat to the right of the guy at the head of the table, across from the hare, who looks like he’s two tempos away from being declared insane.

Nash shrugs, and the rest of the gang takes the empty seats around the table. My eyes land on a tiny figure slouched in a chair.

“Is that a mouse?” I ask as the creature slumps to the side and lets out a rumbling snore a dragon would be proud of.

“Dormouse,” the guy declares.

The hare launches a tart at the mouse, smacking him in the face. “Wakey, wakey, she’s here,” the hare says.

The dormouse blinks his sleepy eyes and focuses on me as he swipes a little jam smear from his face and sucks it into his mouth.

“You’re here,” he whispers in awe.

“You appear to be popular,” Hart drawls.

I press my lips together. While everyone claims to be expecting me, I’m fairly certain they have me mistaken for someone else. However, I don’t think pointing that out is going to help my case. Better to play along.

The genie’s head pops up in the middle of the table as he eyeballs the scones.

“What I would give to taste one,” he says with a sigh.

The guy with the hat raises a bushy brow but doesn’t seem phased by my magical friend.

“You cannot eat or drink?” the guy asks.

The genie shakes his head before disappearing under the table.

“That’s a travesty,” the dormouse declares.

These are my kind of people.

The hare nods at the steaming cup of tea in front of me and downs his drink in one gulp.

I pick mine up, and Theo’s hand grips my wrist and tips the liquid onto the grass between us. “Let’s not drink the suspicious tea.”

I roll my eyes.

“Do you have a name?” Gwyneth asks.

“Hatter,” the mysterious guy confirms. This is the man meant to test our worthiness?

A cup floats into the air toward the hatter, and the teapot lifts before his face.

“It is simply tea, not poison,” the hatter declares.

“Tea can still be deadly,” Nash points out.

The hatter shakes his head as the teapot rattles in front of him. “He doesn’t mean it. They are new, she is old, but has lost her memories.”

I’ve lost many things, but my memories are not one of them.

The teapot spins in a circle.

“Apologize,” the hatter says to Nash.

Nash folds his arms and leans back in his chair. “I will not apologize for protecting Daphne.”

The hatter mutters something under his breath about fools and idiots. I let out an annoyed breath, snatch the cup from in front of the hatter, and down the entire contents. Everyone stares at me with their mouths agape. I smile and wave my hand. “Delicious,” I declare. “See? Nothing happened.”

Nash scowls. “Most poisons don’t react immediately.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s done, so what will be will be. Do you know what will kill us? Dehydration and starvation.”

“I hate it when she makes sense,” Hart grumbles as he lifts a cup and takes a careful sip.

“We are trying to find the Grimm brothers,” Malachi says, bringing us back on track. “Can you help us?”

“Grimm? What an odd name,” Hatter muses. “I don’t believe I can. I’ve met most of the creatures that roam Wonderland, but not them.”

“They are Idols,” I explain.

“Idle?” The hare titters.

“No, Idols,” Malachi corrects. “Beings who created your world.”

“Like a god?” Hatter checks.

“What is a god?” Gwyneth questions.

“The creator.”

“We have multiple,” Nash informs him as he selects a finger sandwich.

“That must be very confusing,” the dormouse says.

“Not really,” I tell him. “You are true to the Idol of the narrative you are in.”

“And what if you are in none or multiple?” the hatter asks.

I tilt my head, because that best describes me. “I guess those are free to write their own destiny.”

“We are free,” the hatter says as the teapot refills my cup.

“Thank you,” I say to the pot. “Don’t you have storylines you are committed to?”

The hatter jerks back in horror. “We are not beholden to mysterious beings for no other purpose than fulfilling their inflated egos. We have enough issues with royalty.”

“I resent that comment,” Charming chimes in.

Gwyneth shoots him a glare. “Only because it’s true. Most of our issues are also caused by people bearing crowns.”

Charming points at Hart. “He is about to be crowned. I don’t hear you complaining about him.”

Because he gives me orgasms is probably not the best defense.

Hart rolls his eyes as he takes a bite from a cake. Lemon, I believe. I’ve not sampled that one yet. Hart smirks and pushes his plate over to me, with half the cake still on it. Orgasms and cakes. This knight knows how to seduce a maiden.

“So where is your god?” Nash asks.

The hare freezes and locks eyes with Hatter, who shakes his head. “It wasn’t your fault, my friend. He followed you to see the caterpillar of his own free will. That was on him.”

All eyes shift to the hare. What did he do? He darts under the table, making the plates rattle.

The hatter sighs. “The only way through Wonderland is to traverse the Red Queen’s kingdom.”

“What is he doing?” Theo interrupts as he catches a shaking teacup before it makes a break for it off the table.

“Searching for his marbles, I suspect,” the White Rabbit declares.

I blink at him. He’s been so quiet I almost forgot he was here. The dormouse has resumed snoring with his head on the table. Apparently, we don’t make for interesting company. I blame Charming. He brings the tone of our amazing gang down.

The hare brushes against my legs, making me giggle. Poor thing really is searching for his marbles. I shove my chair out and sink to my knees. Sir Sweeps-A-Lot moves with me, clearly keen to aid us.

“Daphne, what are you doing?” Nash hisses.

“Helping the hare look for his marbles, of course.”

For a smart knight, he really misses the obvious. I lift the tablecloth and crawl underneath on the cool grass. The hare plucks at the grass, one blade at a time, his floppy, soft ears skimming the ground as his wide eyes dart around.

“How many have you lost?” I ask him.

He shakes his head. “At least eleven, possibly twenty-three.”

Sir Sweeps-A-Lot combs through the grass as I run my hands through the blades. My fingers brush against a cool glass ball. I grab it and hold it in front of the hare. “Is this one?”

He snatches it from my hands and swallows the entire thing whole. His eyes droop and he sighs. “Thank you. That shall suffice.”

I back out from under the table, and the hare mirrors me until we are both back in our seats.

The hatter leans forward and squints at me. “You are you.”

“I am,” I agree. “Who else would I be?”

“Who else indeed?” he answers.

“While I live for Daphne’s calamities, I cannot cope with riddles,” Hart says.

Theo sneezes, and his dragon tail tears through his breeches and lashes against a tree, ripping the bark from it.

Everyone freezes. Theo shrugs. “I’m rolling with it at this point.”

“How do we get to the Red Queen’s kingdom?” Gwyneth asks.

The hatter shudders. “Why would you want to go to such a place? The Red Queen is wrathful and quite insane. You are more likely to lose your head than find your way.”

Umm. I’m rather attached to my head. “You said it was the only way through Wonderland.”

“Stay. Drink tea and eat cake,” the hatter declares.

“I agree,” the White Rabbit adds.

I shake my head. As much as tea and cake are appealing, that doesn’t fix our problems. If it did, we wouldn’t even be in this situation.

The hatter sighs. “If you must go, then you’ll need a hat to blend in.”

I eyeball the top hat he’s wearing. He gasps and grabs the rim. “Not mine. You will need your own. I need a night to make it.”

“Won’t we all need hats?” Gwyneth asks.

The hatter shakes his head, still holding on to his hat like I’m going to steal it. “No, she needs one to avoid being recognized. The rest of you are inconsequential.”

“Daphne is going to be recognized in a land she’s never visited before?” Malachi asks.

The hatter leans forward, and the rest of us follow suit. “She may not remember us, but we remember her.”

I’m absolutely sure I have never been here before, but clearly arguing with them over the sake of wearing a hat is silly.

The rabbit leaps to his feet. “Stay the night. The hatter will return in the morning with your disguise, and I’ll lead you to the kingdom. But from there, you are on your own. Nobody enters the Red Queen’s kingdom and expects to survive.”

The hatter stands, claps his hands, and the table and chairs disappear, plonking us all onto our butts.

Pain shoots up my back, making me wince.

Then, with a snap of his fingers, the hatter and his companions disappear.

I blink at the empty clearing and suck in a breath as the sun blinks out and the moon pops into the sky.

“That was disorientating,” Malachi observes as we climb to our feet.

“Are we meant to just wait around for some strange dude to make a hat?” Hart mutters. “I don’t like how this world seems to reflect the chaos in Daphne’s brain.”

“Don’t judge my chaos,” I say with my hands on my hips.

“So, do we wait or push on?” Gwyneth asks.

“Wait,” I say as everyone else says push on.

I pace. “The hatter said I need a disguise, and the rabbit said he can lead us to the kingdom. If we leave now, it means I’m not wearing the hat that they seem to think will protect me, and we might also end up wandering aimlessly around a strange land. A night of rest will make our minds sharper.”

“I’m concerned that she is making sense,” Hart says.

“I shall take shelter with Gwyneth,” Charming declares. “I’ll protect her.” Gwyneth rolls her eyes. She is more likely to protect him.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Nash utters in my ear. “You get some rest.”

Malachi’s hand slips into mine as Theo hiccups and explodes into his full dragon form, knocking Charming on his ass.

“Good dragon,” I praise as I shiver. The air is definitely cooler without the sun.

Theo huffs a plume of smoke and plonks his butt down, lifting his wing. Malachi pulls on my hand, and Hart, Malachi, and I take refuge under his wing.

I narrow my eyes at Charming. “Try anything with my sister, and he will eat you.”

Charming’s mouth is still hanging open when Theo cuts off our view as he shields us from the world.

I curl onto my side and lay my head against his scales, staring at Malachi. I want to bask in the fact that Hart’s heat washes down my spine, and I want to act on the clenching in my belly. But sleep, apparently, troops floof action.

“Sleep, Calamity. There’s time for that yet,” Hart whispers.

“I’ll hold you to that,” I grumble, my mind filling with images of rabbits, hats, and a strange pair of glowing eyes.

Heads roll around the floor as a wicked laugh renders the air.

I hope that’s not a sign of a future yet to come to pass.

Heads belong on shoulders and hats belong on heads.

Therefore, it stands to reason that a hat can be a disguise.

The hatter makes complete sense. Tomorrow, we shall battle with hats. Tonight, we rest.