Those thousand eyes blink at me at the same time. They reflect my image, showing my eyes wide in terror. I squeak as a forked tongue flicks out of the open mouth to taste the air, tasting me.

“White!” I scream, staring at the tongue that dances in front of me.

“Food,” the flower hisses again and shakes me. My backpack slips from my shoulders and falls to the ground with a thump. White sprints beneath me and looks up in concentration. He throws my backpack over his shoulder.

“When it moves you closer, slash at its eyes,” he yells up.

Shit, I have to wait for the damn thing to try and eat me before I act? Not the plan I hoped for. I slip the small knife from my waist. I’d stored it into a belt loop holder before we left. I’ve never been more grateful to have the tiny blade.

When the flower opens its mouth again, the putrid smell of its breath hits me in the face. I cringe and try to hold my breath as much as possible. The vines move, making my body sway where it dangles as it begins to draw me closer. The smell threatens to make me gag, but I ignore it as best as I can, attempting to take slow measured breaths as I focus on the gaping maw that widens as the vines pull me closer. I clench the small knife, my knuckles white from the grip I have on it. A thousand eyes blink as I look down the throat, about to be ingested by a goddamn flower. If I wasn’t dangling twenty feet above the ground, I might want to laugh about that fact, or at least be amazed. Instead, I tense, my abs flexing as I get ready to swing. When the giant tongue flicks out and touches my face, I swing my arm in a wide arc, slashing at the eyes. The knife hits home, the flower making a garbled shrieking noise just as the vine loosens from my ankle, and I’m falling through empty air for the second time since I came to Wonderland.

I scream and flap my arms. I’m not sure what I expect will happen, if I will suddenly grow wings and fly away, but I know if I land in the position I’m in, I will most likely break my neck, especially from such a height.

I come to an abrupt stop in White’s strong arms, and my breath rushes from my body at the landing. White doesn’t stick around to give me time to slow my racing heart or to see if the flower will back down. He takes off in a sprint, cradling me in his arms, my backpack on his shoulders.

Behind us, the flower roars, angry at an escaped meal.

“Morsels!” it cries, hissing after us.

When the copse of trees is far behind us, and we’re again in the middle of a wasteland, White slows and sets me on my feet. I sway and have to brace myself on my knees. I breathe deeply, not even caring that the air is filled with suffocating heat and dust.

“What the absolute hell was that thing?” I ask between breaths. I study my ankle where the vine had been wrapped, an angry red welt rising where it had dug hard into my skin.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of the talking flowers,” White mumbles, staring off into the distance.

“Yeah, but they don’t eat people. They sing and dance.”

“Not in Wonderland, they don’t.” He shakes his head and meets my eyes. “Nothing is safe here.”

I don’t ask him if he’s included in that statement, but it’s clear he considers himself part of the generalization.

“Holy shit.” I blow out a breath and scrape my errant curls back into my ponytail again. “I’m not okay with that. No more people-eating flowers, please.”

“They aren’t always so big.”

I wrinkle my brow.

“If there are ones that are normal-sized, I’d love to study them. Without risk of being eaten of course.”

White grins.

“Even after almost being eaten, you’re still so curious.” I blush under his appraising gaze. “I like it.”

White looks off into the distance again where I finally realize there’s a dust cloud rising. I stare harder, the air charging with electricity as I see lightning striking inside the clouds. The sky darkens impossibly further, throwing everything into shadow beside the approaching clouds.

“What now?” I whisper, stepping closer to White.

“It’s about to get a whole lot worse,” he replies, his body tensing as the clouds seem to rise higher in the sky.

“What is it? What’s coming?” Slowly, the cloud begins to move. It’s far away in the distance, but even I can make it out as it begins to move, throwing the cloud larger as it closes the miles between us.

“Chimera Storm,” White whispers. There’s a thread of fear in his voice, and that’s what really starts my panic. If White is afraid, I should be, too.

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” I eye the billowing clouds, looking for a clue as to what they can be.

White turns to look at me, his eyes large and haunting. There’s nothing around for miles, only the scraggly trees and the steam. In the distance, I hear a roar begin to fill the air, like the sound of a thousand bulls stampeding. White’s fingers thread through mine.

“If we don’t find shelter now, we are going to die.”