“This is weird,” Clara comments, looking around at everyone. “I didn’t even know we had this room.”

Oddly, I find it just as weird, sitting in this sitting room seemingly out of the eighteenth century. I feel like we all should be wearing corsets and massive dresses. But there aren’t really any true similarities with the century besides the shapes of the furniture. Past that, it’s a mismatched nightmare, like someone threw up a rainbow inside the room and said, “Yes, this is perfect.” The couch White and I sit on is pink, for crying out loud. The Mad Hatter, who dresses like he should be in a metal band, owns a pink couch. Those words shouldn’t be in my mouth. The urge to ask him where his unicorn is overwhelms me, but I tamper it down. There would be plenty of time for that later.

Apparently, for the first time in a while, there isn’t a tea party. It makes us all nervous. If no one has died today, what is Alice planning? When will the other shoe drop?

Tea cups and food are piled up on the table in front of us and on every available surface. Some of it looks like it’ll topple off at any moment, but somehow, like everything else in Wonderland, they defy the laws of physics and balance as if it’s natural.

Hatter and Clara share a love seat in the middle of the room, an odd mixture of sunshine yellow and periwinkle. The Tweedles are standing by the fireplace, watching everyone. I assume Dee is watching based on her general interest in the room, but there’s no mistaking that Dum takes everything in, almost glaring at us in his intensity. I shift uncomfortably in my seat before reaching towards a plate piled high with cupcakes.

“Nope, don’t do it,” Clara warns. “Try the plate next to that. The sweet breads are safe to eat.”

The Hatter frowns. “You ruin all the fun, Clara Bee. Why can’t you just let it be?”

“Maybe I won’t ruin all the fun,” she purrs back, and his eyes light up, a small smile curling his lips.

“I’m going to marry you,” Hatter says suddenly. “If I don’t mess this all up.”

Clara smiles. “Was that a proposal?”

He winks. “You’ll know when it’s a proposal. In Wonderland, we do matings much differently, including how we have weddings.”

I grin at their teasing.

“I’d say congratulations, but it sounds like it’s not quite in order yet,” I joke.

Clara gives me the side eye, a wicked grin on her face.

“Perhaps, I won’t be the only one.”

I blush at her insinuation and try my hardest not to glance over at White. I lose the battle and when I do, his eyes clash with mine. A small smile curls his lips.

We all sit in the room, the Tweedles doing their best to make us all uncomfortable, when the prophecy is brought up.

“Has anyone seen Cheshire?” I ask. The last time I saw him was at the castle, when we told him to take off.

Clara shakes her head, worry clear on her face.

“He hasn’t come back.”

“That’s odd.” Out of the corner of my eye, almost on cue, I swear I see a grin flicker, but when I turn my head, there’s nothing there. I itch to go out the door, something telling me to do so. I reach forward and swipe a croissant from the plate.

“I’m gonna go to the room for a minute. Be right back.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” White asks, tilting his head. His ear twitches, and I know he’s having a hard time not standing up and following me. There’s a bit of anxiety after the courtyard incident, and White worries, but he’s trying his best not to be overbearing. I’m grateful for it.

“No, I’ll be alright.” I smile at him to let him know I really will be alright before I slip from the room.

The hallway is silent as I close the door behind me. The sconces on the wall give just enough light to see. Movement to my right draws my eyes, and I watch as a random door creaks open.

I take a hesitant step forward.

“This is exactly how people die in horror movies,” I mumble to myself. “Please don’t be something terrible.”

When I reach the door, I push it open with my hand and step back, preparing to run and dodge if need be. When nothing immediately attacks me, I slide my arm along the inside wall to find the light switch. The room is completely caked in dust as I scan it. And then Cheshire flickers into view, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

He’s looking out a window, one I have no idea how he can see out of thanks to the dust, his tail flicking lazily behind him. He’s tense, his ears flat on his head.

“Cheshire,” I breathe. “Thank, God. I was so worried.”

He turns and looks at me over his shoulder, and I gasp. A long deep gash runs down the side of his face, angry and still leaking blood.

“Don’t worry,” he says, his voice husky as if in disuse. “It’ll be gone in a few days.”

“What happened?”

“I got into a scuffle with a Chimera. Nothing to ruffle your feathers over.”

“Hell, yeah that’s something to worry about! I was in a Chimera Storm! I know what those things are.” Cheshire rolls his eyes and looks away, and I bite my lip in concern. “Why aren’t you in the room with everyone else?” I ask softly. “Clara has been worried.”

“Has she?” His bright-blue eyes meet mine, and I take a step closer. “Would you tell her I’m fine. She worries too much.”

“We all do.”

“You don’t know me, Fire Child.”

And those words bring back a memory, so faint, I can’t quite hold onto it. In the courtyard, someone had told me to hold on, had stayed with me until the battle there was over and White could carry me away. Cheshire, it was Cheshire telling me to hold on, to keep breathing.

My eyes well, and I curse myself for it. Jesus, don’t let him see you cry. Don’t call attention to it, I tell myself, blinking my eyes to keep the moisture at bay. I curse the constant tears, feeling like I’ve gone through every emotion imaginable since I landed in Wonderland.

“I’d like to think of you as a friend.” I’m proud when my voice doesn’t wobble. That a girl, I tell myself. Keep those emotions in check.

“You shouldn’t,” he replies, a frown on his face. I don’t think he misses the small realization cross my face, but ever the cat, he pretends as if he did.

“Nevertheless, I do. So, deal with it.”

Cheshire studies me, his eyes taking in my facial expression before dropping to the tiny black mark on my wrist. The frown on his face grows deeper.

“I came to talk to White, really.” He doesn’t bring up the mark like I expect. “It’s time to find the third.”

“Your mate,” I nod, watching him closely.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, mussing it up.

“I want nothing to do with prophecies and fairytales, but it’s been correct twice now.”

“It has,” I agree, tilting my head. “And you didn’t want it to be.”

“I still don’t want it to be,” he growls softly.

I can feel Cheshire’s annoyance at the idea of a woman prophesied for him, but he also understands the need for the third to complete the triad and bring about the fall of the Red Queen.

“It’s hard to put your faith in something you can’t see,” I say, watching Cheshire’s face. He doesn’t look at me until I speak again. “That’s why you have to feel it.” His eyes snap up, his tail going still. “I might know science, but Wonderland defies all the laws of the sciences I know. It’s wonderfully upside down. Illogical is logical here. So, it makes sense to me that a fairytale is exactly what you need.”

Cheshire scoffs and shakes his head.

“You and Clara are so naïve. A prophecy won’t make a woman fall in love with me.”

“Nope,” I grin. “That part is up to you.”

He glares at me, and the tail begins to swish from side to side again.

“Then we’re all doomed.”

“Maybe,” I say, laughing. “You are a bit of an asshole.”

“Understatement,” Hatter announces, pushing the door open and walking into the room.

“But you’re our asshole,” Clara adds, following him inside. “And I’m angry with you for disappearing for so long.”

Clara immediately moves across the room and starts fussing over him, gently prodding the gash on his face. He rolls his eyes, but when his gaze meets mine again, I can see the genuine affection he has for the woman standing in front of him. Cheshire likes to wear a mask, never wanting to show his hand. It’s gonna have to be one hell of a woman to rip that mask away.

The Tweedles float into the room then, making the atmosphere go from light-hearted to downright creepy. Seems they have that effect wherever they go. Tweedledee grins when I stare at them, and Tweedledum inclines his head towards me. It’s at that exact moment I notice the small identical vials hanging from their necks, locks of bright red hair inside.

“Why did you put my hair in there?” I ask, confused.

The rest of the room focuses all their attention on the Tweedles, including White who steps into the room behind them. His eyes immediately search for me, and when he sees me unharmed, relief flashes across his face before he joins me at my side.

“You have power, Fire Child,” Dee says.

“Untapped potential,” Dum adds.

“We like power.” I hate when they speak at the same time. It makes goosebumps rush up and down my arms. It’s like an even creepier Children of the Corn scenario.

“But what does that have to do with my hair hanging around your necks?”

They smile, the look so sinister, I move closer to White. The entire room tenses. Even Cheshire takes a step towards me, as if he’s not sure the Tweedles will attack or not.

“We want the power.” Their voices echo in the room. White’s face turns murderous as he takes in the two before him. Hatter goes as far as to draw his sword.

“You said you wouldn’t harm me.” My voice is thick with worry, running over my words as I made the deal. I’m certain I had spoken clearly and left no room for issues.

“That was the deal.” Dee inclines her head. “We will not harm you.”

“Not with the deal in place.” Dum narrows his eyes on me.

“And after the deal?” I ask, because I like to be well-informed if I’m being threatened. White draws his own sword as Dee smiles, wicked-sharp teeth poking over her lips.

“Then we hunt,” they say.

Yep, Children of the Corn. I knew it.