Chapter 20
I Hate it Here
The door spat me out onto the front steps where we’d first entered, the air still heavy but no longer suffocating. The oppressiveness of the castle seemed to recede as I crossed back over the threshold, like it was finally able to breathe.
My shoulders sagged. My legs ached. But I was still me…mostly.
Then—voices.
“Do you think she…” Carl-Two’s voice rang out with a suddenness that made me flinch.
“I told you we shouldn’t have let her go in there!” Carl-One argued, his voice carrying an edge of hysteria.
I stepped forward, and both Carls turned.
“MISS LISS!” they shouted in unison, face lighting up like fireworks.
They launched themselves at me without hesitation. I barely had enough time to brace myself as they clamped on to my waist in hysterical dramatics.
“You made it!” Carl-One cried. “We thought maybe he got you and we’d never see you again.”
“She looks mostly normal!” Carl-Two added, peering up at me with wide blue eyes. “The bags under her eyes are deep, but they might have been like that before.”
“That’s just my face,” I muttered, patting their heads in what I hoped was a reassuring and comforting way, applying just enough force to simultaneously push them away from me.
Before I could completely untangle myself, a soft shuffle of boots on stone drew my attention.
Tarran.
She emerged from the shadows, the hem of her cloak damp, her curls pulled into a loose knot that had clearly been redone several times in a fit of nervous fidgeting. Her eyes locked onto mine instantly.
“You’re okay?” she asked. No frills, no theatrics. I nodded. “Did you know?” I questioned.
Tarran exhaled. Not a dramatic sigh, but a breath that sounded like it had been caught up in her chest for too long. She flinched at my harsh words, giving a nod. “I’m sorry,” was all she could offer. “But you did pass his twisted game. Only one more brother to deal with.”
I studied her face. Something about her seemed different now, slightly askew. Like a part of herself had been taken while I’d been gone and no one had bothered to give it back.
I didn’t say anything more. Not yet. But the thread pulling through my chest tightened.
“What now then?” I threw my hands up in frustration.
“Mayhem.”
***
We walked past the castle, deeper into the city.
The landscape changed as we moved—not quite as death and despair, just more unkempt and unpolished.
The cobblestone road turned into a dirt path.
Gnarled trees and bushes lined the makeshift pathway, and as we moved, the sky deepened until it was a shimmering mauve, a strange shade of green clinging to the edges, getting stranger by the minute.
Giant toadstools shaded glittering teacup houses.
Fountains gurgled with what smelled suspiciously like lemonade.
The trees had ribbons and scarves adorning their trunks.
A tall flag fluttered above on a spire in the distance, depicting a crown and a jester’s cap, but the edges were tattered and worn.
Carl-One let out a gasp and spun in a circle as he took it all in. “Is this heaven?” he whispered.
Carl-Two reached up and pulled a cookie off a low-hanging tree branch. “I don’t think I want to ever leave,” he said.
We kept walking until a town swam into view—if you could call it that.
The buildings curved like they’d melted slightly in the sun.
Each one was a different shade of pastels, none of them taller than one story but all with way too many windows.
Stairs that led to nowhere. Doors that opened sideways instead of out.
At the center of it all stood a crooked tower, twisting upward like a bent spoon.
“What is that?”
“It’s where the mischief king lives,” Tarran said, following my gaze to the strange building.
“We had a lot of time to talk while you were in the castle. The spirits said it’s just for looks; he can’t actually bear to live in the home he once shared with his beloved.
It’s almost sweet when you think about it. ”
“Nothing about that place was sweet,” I said scathingly, still dwelling on the flashes of memory and trauma the King had conjured up for me. “The sooner we get out of this cursed kingdom, the better.”
We were almost to the tower when a trumpet blared suddenly, and from the base, a small platform rose like it had been waiting for us.
A man stepped onto it.
At least, I think it was a man.
He wore a suit that looked stitched from dozens of others, clashing colors and mismatched cuffs, with a long coattail that dragged behind him like a train of silk confetti. His hat stood at a ridiculous tilt, nearly three feet tall.
He didn’t walk so much as skipped down the steps toward us, arms spread wide.
“Ah! Visitors!” he cried. “New faces but old souls, am I right?” He stopped before me, green eyes twinkling, a single teardrop tattooed beneath one of his eyes. “You must be Alyssa.”
“Liss,” I corrected quickly. “And you must be the King of Mischief?”
“King Reddick, at your humblest of service.” He bowed his head in formal greeting, but the twinkle in his eye betrayed him. “Crowned Clown of this chaotic story, Master of Mazes, Lord of Laughter.”
“I like him,” I heard Carl-Two whisper to his brother.
King Reddick straightened, shooting Carl a wink that elicited a joyous giggle. Then, he turned back to me and sobered slightly. His smile didn’t vanish, but something behind it changed.
“You’re here for the key,” he said. “So that must mean you’ve made it past my brother.”
“Yes.”
“Well.” He rubbed his hands together like a man who was about to sit down to a feast. “You know the rules?”
“Nope.”
“Perfect!” He beamed. “I won’t throw you into it like my brother did. You have three days. Rest up, explore. Your trial will be a lot of fun! A maze, designed by yours truly. Simply find your way out, and you can have the key.”
“What kind of maze?”
His grin widened but said nothing, giving a slight shrug. I contemplated bashing his head in but thought better of it.
He waited, looking almost pleased when he realized I wasn’t going to say anything further, then pointed toward one of the candy-colored houses with a roof shaped like a hat. “Lodging. Snacks. Beware the marmalade, though—it might have gone off. See you in three days!”
And just like that, he vanished, literally, into a poof of slightly shimmery smoke. I turned to Tarran, who was staring at the spot where he had just been. She looked almost impressed.
“I hate it here,” I said flatly.
“Good. Even more motivation for you to get through these trials.”