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Hatter’s hand falls,his finger pointing to a hodgepodge of words, outlined, smudged and outlined again.
Successor. Progeny. Inheritor. In-hatter-or.
“You arrived in Wonderland because I called for an heir. Ibelievedone into existence, and so you appear.” His voice is fully of wonder. Bursting with pride I struggle to accept. I can’t…I’m just…a lunatic. An accident, falling between realms with no real sense of belonging anywhere. Right?
A shiver creeps down my spine as my entire world falls into place. Shuffling at my back hatter returns to his position peering over my shoulder, like his feet just can’t stand still. Like he’s been rehearsing this moment in his head a thousand times, and now it’s here he doesn’t know which version to play out.
“Arabelle’s Champion promised me he’d protect you. That he’d stop you from entering the Shadow Planes. But I know you as well as I know myself. I’d have found a way too, no matter how well guarded we were under the guise of vampire blood.”
Oh, it gets worse.
Tweed’s image crashes into my mind like a wrecking ball. His stoic stare. His know-it-all attitude. He tried to force me to play the game his way, to cage me from the truth. Where Cash provided fun, I saw freedom. Chaining a bird meant to fly will always result in a chewed-off foot. Conjured by the thought, a sketch of Mr. Budgerigar catches my eye – sitting on Hatter’s shoulder beside the Red Castle. The Queen I knew, pompous and round with a bright red face, lays at his feet, her head a few inches away.
“Young Malice, why is a raven like a writing desk?” Hatter mutters, giddy on his feet. I shake my head.
“I have no idea.”
“Ahh. But why is this realm like a carburetor?” My body freezes, my mind already in overdrive. I know the sensible answer will earn me a slap but my mouth blurts it out anyway.
“It controls the air and fuel to the engine?” A gloved hand smacks up the back of my head for speaking sense, while Hatter commends me for being correct.
“We’re the fuel,” he spins me around with a swift jerk of my shoulders.
“The air is the air,” Miss Dormouse pitches in and I give her a solid thumbs up.
“Yeah, I got the metaphor, thanks.” This time, Hatter shoves me and I tumble back into a chair. His eyes wander in different directions, his mouth twitching between seriousness and a burst of impending crazy. Could be anything from animal noises to plain screaming, so I shrink back and prepare myself. His fingers jerk, drifting to the rim of his black hat. Four playing cards are fixed into the red sash around the center, a King of each suit. Lifting it from his head, he holds it high in the air.
“Our liveliness jump starts those around us. Provides the delight they need to thrive. I’ve been stuck in perpetual time long enough, waiting for you to be ready. You’re ready.” Bringing the hat down slowly, I jerk out of the chair and push it between us, my hand halting his movements.
“Woah, no, hold up.” My chest rises and falls heavily. Hatter freezes, not a muscle moving, his face staring on expectantly. “If I accept, you’re not going to…die, right?” A beat passes before Hatter releases a high-pitched laugh. His head falls back, facing the ceiling and even Miss Dormouse finds me comical.
“Of course not, you silly goose,” Hatter wipes a tear from his blue eye. “I’m merely retiring. Hanging up my hat, so to speak. Sit, young Malice, be my hat rack.” Exhaling loudly, I ease myself back into the chair. Miss Dormouse jumps onto my shoulder once more and I tilt my head to whisper into her ear.
“I can’t fill Hatter’s shoes.” Her twitchy nose tickles my cheek, the hat above my head lowering.
“I see your point. He’s at least six sizes bigger than you.”
“I mean, I don’t think I’m up to replacing him,” I whisper-shout, sliding down in the seat to prolong Hatter’s knighting. Maybe he’ll change his mind, see sense and…oh, he’ll never do that.
“Good gracious girl,” Miss Dormouse tuts, “no need to fret. He’s been grooming you for the past twenty years. You were never alone.” The hat lands on my head and before I can respond, Hatter pulls me to my feet. Pure pride is projecting from his eyes, a look of relief capturing his entire face. Beyond the smile and vibrancy, a hint of dark circles hides beneath the white powder upon his face. I don’t know how I missed it before, but now I can’t unsee it. He’s tired.
“Blood, sweat, and tea. That’s what it takes to achieve all great and terrible things,” Hatter reminds me. He told me the same as a little girl, and now I’m standing before him in his oversized hat, it’s like no time has passed at all. “You’re the Hatter now.”
I chew on my bottom lip. My eyes travel back to the wall of stories I lived but looking on them now, it’s like staring upon a stranger. I can see my mistakes, the clues I missed. Where my stupidity and blunt refusal to see sense clouded my judgement. I don’t want to be tricked again, to let down the realm again. Lilianna is free because of me, her poison running through my veins. Not the best selection for an heiress.
“Believe it. Say it,” Hatter urges. If I can even still call him that.
“I-” my voice wobbles. Never, in the past twenty years, have I felt this unsure. This…scared. A tear falls from my eye, caught by Hatter’s thumb.
“Forget what you think you know. Trust your instincts. Believe you’re worthy.” Gloved hands cup my cheeks, the man I adore tilting my head up to face him. The pride is still there, unwavering and resolute. Twenty fucking years I’ve waited to see him again. Our perfect reunion was shattered, but I needed to see Wonderlust in its rawest form. To learn the ways of this world, to feel its sharp sting of betrayal in order to rebuild. As Mary Ann would say, bleeding out is necessary.
“How did you do it?” I ask, pushing the smallness from my voice. “Live in our own world, not caring about those who try to penetrate it? I wanted to return to this realm so bad, but it isn’t a dream come true at all. This is a fucking nightmare.”
“A dream is not reality, but who’s to say which is which?”
“I am to say,” I mutter and Hatter orders me to say it louder. Clenching my jaw, I cast one last glance at the drawing of the Tweedle boys. Identical on the outside, both assholes with vendettas. Obviously Cash is top of my shit list currently, but when I break out of here, Tweed will not escape my wrath either. There’s a thousand ways our hate-filled relationship could have played out and he made his choice. It’s my job to make sure he pays for it. Well bring it the fuck on.
“I am to say!” I shout, clenching my fists. “I am Mal Hatter. I’m a badass bitch and I’ll bring this realm a level of crazy they’ve never seen.” Hatter steps back, clapping his hands wildly. In the corner of my eye, the loose hair framing my face shifts. Pulling the rest of my mane forward, I splutter. Luscious curls, silky smooth and perfectly styled slip through my fingers. What’s more, my blonde locks have molded into vivid orange, a shade brighter than Hatters. I believed it, and it’s come true.
