Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Darius
I woke to pulsing pain. My side was bandaged, and I had a hard time breathing. A sour taste coated my mouth, like I’d swallowed a handful of puckerplums.
A grin swirled into existence beside me. Then golden eyes materialized above it.
“Ah, the dead man wakes.” Chester’s grin stretched wider. “Or perhaps you were never dead at all. Perhaps you were simply... elsewhere. Tell me, Hatter—where does one go when they’re busy not dying?”
Everything was a blur. My vision swam, colors bleeding into each other like wet paint. Sound came from far away—muffled, distorted. Was I dead?
I scanned the cavern. Sparkling walls. Stalactites overhead. I knew this place.
“Made it to Nowhere Grotto?” My throat was raw, the words scraping out like broken glass. Why did it hurt so much to talk?
Grump came alongside my bunk. He looked down at me, and something flickered across his face—surprise, or maybe relief he didn’t want to show. “You’re lucky to be alive, Hatter. You were dying.”
“Meaning?”
Chester’s grin floated closer. “Meaning you were knocking on death’s door, and death was reaching for the handle.” His golden eyes glittered. “But someone knocked louder. Someone pulled you back before he could let you in.”
“Doc worked his magic.” I shifted and pain flared through my side. A sharp hiss escaped my teeth.
“I wouldn’t move if I were you, Hatter.” Grump tilted his head. “And you misunderstand what Chester meant. It wasn’t Doc who brought you back from death’s door. It was Alice.”
“Alice.” My chest tightened. I'd kidnapped her. Torn through her memories. And she'd saved my life anyway. I didn't deserve that. Didn't know what to do with it. “How?”
“The poison was overtaking you,” Grump said. “Doc didn’t think his antidote would work in time. You were too far gone.”
“I don’t understand.”
Chester’s grin stretched, but his eyes burned darker. “Puzzles, puzzles, puzzles. So difficult when the pieces won’t fit. But here’s a riddle for you, Hatter—what happens when a girl who doesn’t believe in her magic suddenly believes so hard she nearly dies saving you?”
My blood went cold.
“Where is she? Where’s Alice?”
“She’s with Doc and Caterpillar.” Grump’s jaw tightened. He glanced warily over at Chester, and something unspoken passed between them.
Something was wrong. Death hadn’t dulled my wits entirely. The silence was too heavy, too suffocating. Chester’s grin dimmed.
“Tell me. Now.”
Grump met my desperate gaze. “She’s…unconscious.”
The word slammed into me.
Unconscious. Because of me. Because she’d poured everything she had into saving my worthless life.
Chester’s puzzle suddenly made sense—and I hated the picture it formed.
“Unconscious?” I jerked upright. Agony ripped through my side and I cried out, doubling over. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. White stars danced at the edges of my vision.
“I told you not to move.” Grump pressed a firm hand against my shoulder, pushing me back down. “But when have you ever listened to reason?”
“Never.” I gritted my teeth against the pain, forcing my eyes to focus on his face. “Take me to her.”
“You can barely sit up.”
“I don’t care. She saved my life. I’m not lying here while she—”
While she what? Died? Because of me?
My throat closed. This was my fault. I’d left her on that branch. I’d gotten shot. I’d made her use magic she didn’t understand.
I had to find her. Had to make sure she was alright. Even if I couldn't undo what she'd sacrificed, I could be there when she woke up.
“Take me to her,” I repeated. “Now.”
Chester’s grin flickered—the first time I’d ever seen it waver.
“Truth.” He let the word hang in the air. “Truth is a funny thing. It can set you free or shatter you into a thousand pieces.” His golden eyes dimmed. “Which would you prefer, Hatter?”
“Chester.”
“Very well.” His voice lost its playful edge. “She gave too much. Poured herself out like water from a cup until there was nothing left. Not a drop.” He paused. “Doc doesn’t know if she’ll wake up. She might sleep forever. She might simply... fade.”
The words carved through me like a blade.
“No.” I refused to believe it. “No.”
“She knew the risk.” Caterpillar’s voice drifted from somewhere behind me. “Or perhaps she didn’t. Either way—she chose you.”
Chose me. She’d chosen to save me, and now she might never open her eyes again.
“Take me to her. Now. I don’t care if I have to crawl.”
Grump shook his head. “You really are a stubborn bastard.”
But they relented. Chester and Grump each grabbed an arm and lifted me gently from the bed.
The moment I was upright, the world tilted. Pain ripped through my side like a hot poker twisting between my ribs. My knees buckled.
“Easy,” Grump grunted, securing his grip.
I gritted my teeth, choking back a scream. Colors swirled in front of my eyes, blurring my vision. My stomach lurched. For a horrifying second, I thought I was going to pass out before I even took a step.
No. Not now. Not when Alice needed me.
I forced my legs to move. One step. Another. Each one sent fresh agony tearing through me.
“Slower,” Chester said, his voice unusually serious. “You’re no good to her dead.”
“I’m no good to her here either.” The admission burned.
They draped my arms over their shoulders and half dragged me across the cavern. My feet stumbled over the uneven stone. I couldn’t feel my legs properly. Couldn’t tell if I was walking or being carried.
It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except getting to her.
The cavern stretched endlessly before me. Every step was a battle. Every breath was fire.
Hold on, Alice. I’m coming. Just hold on.
We stumbled in silence. “I should have put her bed next to yours.” Grump grumbled.
“Ah, but you didn’t.” Chester’s voice was soft, but it carried a blade. “You didn’t trust her. Even as her life force flickered like a candle in a storm. Even as she poured herself empty to save him.” A pause. “Trust is a curious thing, isn’t it, Grump? Always arriving too late.”
My jaw tightened. Alice had nearly killed herself to save me, and Grump still hadn't believed in her. Had probably stood there with his arms crossed, waiting for her to fail.
Caterpillar and Doc sat on opposite sides of Alice. She was stretched out on a cot, her face pale as moonlight, beads of sweat dotting her skin.
So still. Too still.
My chest cracked open. This vibrant woman—this fierce, stubborn, beautiful witch who’d argued with me, kissed me, saved my life—lay there like a broken doll. Like she was already gone.
Fuck no.
Doc placed a cool rag on her forehead. “I’m doing everything I can, Hatter.”
“It’s not enough.”
Caterpillar exhaled slowly, smoke curling from his lips. “Enough. Such a small word. Never quite as big as we need it to be.” His half-lidded eyes drifted to Alice. “She gave everything. And now we give what we can. Whether it is enough...” He paused. “That is not for us to decide.”
“Then who decides?” I wanted to hit something. Break something. Anything but stand here helpless while she slipped away. “Who decides whether she lives or dies?”
Caterpillar studied me for a long moment. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. Whatever he searched for in my face, I needed him to find it. Needed him to believe I'd do anything to save her. Then he released Alice’s hand and stood.
“You know,” he said slowly, exhaling a curl of smoke, “there are stories in every world. Tales of sleepers who wander too far into the dark.” He moved aside, making room for me. “And tales of what brings them back.”
“What are you saying?”
“I am saying...” He paused, his half-lidded eyes knowing. “That sometimes the lost need a reason to return. A voice. A touch.” His gaze dropped to Alice’s pale lips. “A reminder that they are not forgotten.”
My heart stuttered. “You think—”
“I think nothing.” Caterpillar drifted back. “I merely observe. She saved you with everything she had. Perhaps...” A slow blink. “Perhaps you can return the favor.”
I looked down at Alice. At her still face. At the lips I’d kissed. Fragile. I hated seeing her like this—hated knowing I was the reason she'd nearly burned herself out.
Chester and Grump lowered me onto the edge of her cot. Fire shot through my side, but I didn’t care. I took her cold hand in mine.
“Come back to me,” I whispered. “Please.”
I leaned over. Pain lanced through my side—vicious, tearing—but I didn’t care. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her.
Three times. She’d saved me three times. Stopped time for me. Poured out her life force for me. Nearly died for me.
This fierce, stubborn, incredible woman.
And I wanted her. Damn it, I wanted her. Not just her magic. Not just her power. Her.
I needed her.
I brushed a strand of damp hair from her face. Her skin was cold. Too cold.
“Don’t leave me,” I breathed against her lips. “Not now. Not when I just found you.”
And I kissed her.