Page 18

Chapter

Sixteen

T heo transforms back and winks at me, confirming he knows every detail of what occurred beneath his wing.

Charming appears oblivious, but then again, he struggles to think past his own feet, or the feet of his chosen female. Eugene and Hamish remain at his side. Traitors.

I wrestle my hair into a braid and avoid eye contact with my sister like it’s a sport. She doesn’t get the message and links our arms before dragging me over to a bush.

“Where are you both going?” Hart calls out.

“Girls’ bathroom,” Gwyneth shouts over her shoulder.

“Together?” he says.

“Of course,” I answer. “It’s a rule. Girls go to the bathroom together.”

“Girls are weird,” Genie mutters. “Also, for the record, there is no bathroom around here.”

“That’s never stopped me before,” I grumble as Gwyneth drags me behind a tree.

I lift my skirt, pull my panties down, and squat. She raises her brows and shakes her head.

“I didn’t actually mean go for a pee,” she mutters.

“Listen, you said bathroom, my brain communicated with my bladder, and now we are in a no turning back situation, so you can either turn around or suck it up.”

“What are you sucking up?” the genie asks as he appears in front of me. He throws his hands over his eyes. “Have you no shame?”

“Wow, everyone is a critic, particularly a being that doesn’t require food or toilets.”

“Girls’ bathroom excludes genies,” Gwyneth points out.

The genie huffs. “I always get left out of gossip. It’s not fair.” He poofs out.

I finish up, using a leaf to wipe and jump to my feet.

“We need to talk,” Gwyneth whispers as she leads me a little deeper into the forest and away from the knights.

“If it’s about what happened, I’ll have to give you the company line. What happens beneath a dragon wing, stays beneath a dragon wing.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose. “That’s not... no... I mean... now I’m semi curious... but also, no.”

I broke her. The world is ending. I grab her hand and give it a squeeze. She focuses on me. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“I think I have feelings,” she says slowly.

“You aren’t an inanimate object. I fully expect you to have feelings.”

“For someone.”

I blink. Oh. She darts a glance from where we came from.

My whole body tenses. Not my knights. I love her and would give her my last clean pair of panties, because I feel like they are going to be surplus to requirements for my immediate future, anyway.

But I can’t share my knights. Unless she and the genie have a thing going on.

I’d rather that, than say, Sir Sweeps-A-Lot, who sticks his wood in random places.

Also, my girl needs intellectual stimulation. I’m not sure a broom makes the cut.

“No, not the broom,” she grumbles. Oops, must have spoken out loud, and now I feel bad I’m being judgy. “Although you’ll enjoy the genuine answer even less.”

Again, not one of my knights. I can’t cope.

“Who?” I croak. Please don’t make me choose between you and the knights. Sisters will always come first, but I’ll be really sad.

“Charming,” she mutters, digging the point of her shoe into the dirt and refusing to meet my gaze.

My heart explodes into joyous rapture for a split tempo, knowing my relationship with my knights isn’t on the line. But it’s quickly replaced with disbelief. “That one?” I check, pointing to where we came from. Maybe she had an encounter with a different Charming back at The Hallows.

“Yes. I don’t know where or when it started, but he’s becoming less tiresome every single turn.”

My bright bubble of hope that my sister has been spreading herself around the other Charmings and hasn’t fallen for Prince Poopfloof bursts. I imitate her favorite what the bunkum poop move and pinch the bridge of my nose. Look at that—it helps.

“Have you...” I trail off as my mind supplies nasty images of a naked Charming with my sister.

“No, but we’ve kissed.” I press the back of my hand against her forehead. “What are you doing?”

“Checking for fever.”

“For Idol’s sake,” she grumbles.

I wave three fingers in front of her face. “How many fingers do you see?”

“Four.”

I knew it. She’s clearly delirious. I glance at my hand. Nope, wait, I’m holding up four. My pinky got in on the action without permission. I take a step back and frown. “When did you kiss?”

She throws her hand in the air and huffs. “Last night. You and your knights were giving off some wicked energy, and it kind of filtered out.”

Wow, my sexcapades made Charming seem desirable. Go me. “It’s likely an effect of being around us. Ignore it. I’m sure it will pass.” Or I can maim Charming and let him pass.

“Don’t be so judgy,” she snaps.

I drop my hands and sigh. She’s right. I absolutely need to not judge this situation, I need to deal with it. There’s a lot that can befall an idiot prince.

She shakes her head. “Stop plotting his death.”

I shrug. “If I don’t plot it, but it happens anyway, I can’t be held responsible.”

“You can absolutely be held responsible.”

“We shall have to agree to disagree.”

She puts her face in her hands and sighs.

My sister is struggling with her feelings, and I’m being an ass.

I wrap her in my arms and give her a squeeze.

“Nobody will ever be good enough for you in my eyes,” I tell her.

“But if you have feelings for him, and you want to explore them, you have my blessing. However if he hurts you, I have four knights who will cut him up in teeny tiny pieces before Theo, in his dragon form, devours them.”

Her shoulders shake with laughter. Sister crisis averted.

She pulls back and glances around. “Umm, what is that?” she asks as she points out a dense purple fog sweeping along the ground.

Tendrils wrap around my legs, and I take a heavy sniff.

It’s heady, like I’ve drunk too much berry wine, and the fizz pop in my head is destroying my sane thoughts.

Malachi crashes through the bushes with a hand over his eyes, making me marvel at his coordination. I have my brilliance, and he has balance. I still beat him.

“I hope you are decent, ladies, because we need you back now. There’s something weird happening.”

“We are clothed. You can look,” I tell him as I grab Gwyneth’s hand and drag her back with me.

My mind is still processing the fact she has feelings for Charming.

She didn’t state what kind, though—they could be ones of disgust or annoyance.

Maybe Charming kisses with all the finesse of a toad with a slobbery tongue, and she’s struggling to tell him he’s gross.

Ugh. Who am I kidding? She wouldn’t have dragged me out to the bush toilet for that.

We join the others, finding Nash glaring at the purple fog creeping toward him and the rest of our group.

“What is it?” I wonder.

He flicks his gaze at me, then back at the mysterious fog. “I’m not sure. Best not to touch it or breathe it in.”

Gwyneth and I giggle. “Too late.”

“Are they drunk?” Theo mutters.

“Off pee?” Hart asks. “I hope not.”

“Ew, no one drinks pee,” I tell him. “Why are you so gross?”

“Says the female who urinated in the sea,” the genie reminds me.

“Everyone urinates in the sea, and if you declare otherwise, you are lying to yourself.”

“Was that before her weird outfit change or after?” Gwyneth asks before she cackles. I snort, and a little spit flies out of my mouth.

“What is happening?” Charming demands as he eyeballs Gwyneth. “Your girlfriend infected my Gwyneth with her chaos. Undo it.”

Gwyneth and I have been together for many years. If she was going to get infected by me, it would have happened before now.

“I think they are high,” Nash says as he tilts his head.

“I feel low,” I say as I spin around in a circle with my arms out wide. I trip, but Hart is right there with his arms circling my waist. “My hero,” I breathe and kiss him.

He growls low and helps me stand before releasing me, but he doesn’t go far. Gwyneth displays amazing grace as she too falls, but Charming is too slow to catch her, so I dive for her, and we both end up on the ground. Hamish and Eugene hurry over to peck at our heads.

“It’s like she’s actively trying to injure herself,” Hart grumbles.

Gwyneth bellows a laugh as I roll off her. She flaps her arms and legs, making the purple fog swirl around us. Sir Sweeps-A-Lot gets in on the action and tries to combat the substance to no avail. I give him a thumbs up. “Top marks for effort,” I tell him.

Gwyneth glances at my broom. “Why is he your gift, and I get a quill?”

“I’m yet to understand anything that has come from the All Knowing, but who are we to question him?”

“The owners of wonders, apparently,” she says as she lifts her arms and waves them in the air like the wonders will appear before us.

Charming suddenly lets free a huge laugh that shatters the silence. “You can’t simply wish a wonder.”

“I disagree,” the genie interjects.

Charming rolls his eyes. “Those not in possession of a genie can’t wish a wonder.”

“I don’t believe in wishes. People make their own luck in this life,” Malachi says.

I roll onto my belly and rest my head in my hands. Standing seems too hard right now. My legs are enjoying the rest.

“We need to get out of here before we are all affected,” Nash snaps. He sweeps me into his arms like I weigh nothing more than a feather.

Charming does the same with Gwyneth, and I scowl at him in warning. So long as his hands stay where I can see them, we shouldn’t have a problem.

I point at Eugene and Hamish. “I’m putting you in charge of ensuring my sister is not fondled by him. Unless she wishes to be fondled. Maybe we need a secret code word or a handshake or a sign that says fondling is welcome.” Eugene squawks, making Gwyneth giggle. I nod. “Perfect.”

“We shouldn’t stray far. The hatter won’t find us,” Nash says as he strides in the opposite direction of the mysterious drugging mist. Not more than two tempos pass when his steps falter.

“Tell me there aren’t giant spiders,” Genie whispers, disappearing before waiting for an answer. He needs serious therapy.

“You’re different, but the same,” a giant caterpillar declares from his lofty position on top of a mushroom. He takes puffs from a huge pipe, the origin of the purple mist.

“I am merely me,” I counter.

“Well, merely me, riddle me this...”

Nash groans. I flop my head back over his arm and sigh. Riddles, piddles, I want cake and sausages. Is that too much to ask? The rest of our gang form an arc around the creature.

“They are new,” the caterpillar points out as he glares at the knights. His gaze settles on Gwyneth. “You, however, are not.”

“Did he call me old?” Gwyneth says from Charming’s arms.

“Rude,” I agree. Commenting on a maiden’s age is frowned upon. We are all one cat away from becoming an old crone.

Nash puts me down, and although my head swims, I manage to conquer standing like a queen.

The purple mist thickens, curling around our ankles like it’s alive.

My thoughts swirl like currents in my mind, flickering between cake, sausages, and the alarming possibility that I might actually enjoy riddles in this state.

The caterpillar takes a slow, deliberate puff from his pipe, his eyes half-lidded. “You wish to pass through Wonderland,” he muses. “But tell me this—what is the way forward when every path leads you back to where you started?”

Theo mutters a curse under his breath. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s not meant to be,” the caterpillar replies, blowing out a ring of shimmering smoke.

A low chuckle drifts through the mist, curling around my ears like silk. “Oh, how I love watching lost little creatures squirm.”

I spin around, heart pounding. There’s nothing but the swirling fog. Then, a wide crescent grin flickers into existence, floating in midair, sharp and gleaming. A second later, glowing violet eyes blink into view above it, watching me with lazy amusement.

“Chess.” The caterpillar sighs, exhaling more smoke. “Must you always be so dramatic?”

The cat stretches luxuriously as the rest of his body slinks into visibility, his striped tail curling, claws flexing against the branch he lounges on.

My capons, that are on loan to Charming, dart off into the trees at the sight of the cat.

They won’t go far, I’m sure of it. However, I make a shooing motion to Sir Sweeps-A-Lot to go keep an eye on them.

Miraculously, he understands me and darts off.

“But of course. I wouldn’t be me otherwise,” the cat continues as his gaze flicks to me, and his grin widens. “Now, what’s this? A new pretty mouse, scurrying in circles?”

“Only I call her that,” Theo snarls.

I cross my arms. “I’m not a mouse.”

Chess’s tail flicks. “Mm. I suppose not. But you are lost. And that,” he purrs, his body already fading again, “is far more delicious.” His voice lingers, even after he’s gone.

“We should go,” Nash mutters, eyes scanning the trees.

“Yes,” the caterpillar agrees. “But the question is… which way? You wish to pass through Wonderland,” he murmurs, exhaling a ring of shimmering smoke. “But the way forward is not simply walked—it must be won.”

The mist swirls, thick and endless. Around us, the shadows shift. And for the first time, a prickle of unease slides down my spine, because I have the sinking feeling that in Wonderland, the way forward might not exist at all.

The caterpillar takes a long, deliberate puff from his pipe, watching us with an expression that’s equal parts boredom and amusement.

Hart crosses his arms. “Let me guess. A test?”

The caterpillar smirks. “A riddle.”

Nash groans. “Fantastic.”

The mist thickens around us, curling higher, closing in. The caterpillar’s gaze sharpens. “Answer correctly, and you may move forward.” He leans in, voice dropping to a low, knowing whisper. “Fail, and you will never leave Wonderland.”

The fog tightens, cold and cloying, and the trees lean closer, listening.

I swallow hard. No pressure.