Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
ALICE
There is absolutely no way these cards are just a coincidence.
Not a chance. I don’t know what they mean, but I’m not about to convince myself it’s just my tired, grieving brain making things up.
Three of them showing up today? Not likely.
I could ask Mum if she had more of these cards, but I already know what she’d say—probably something along the lines of “Stop making up stories, Alice.”
I let out a shaky breath, pulling my hoodie tighter around me.
Fine. If someone wants to play games, let’s see where this leads.
What would Gran say? She’d tell me to follow the magic, to see where curiosity could take me.
I lay the cards out on the counter, staring at them.
All of them look identical. I grab my glasses out of my pocket, slipping them on to take a closer look.
They look like regular playing cards. Each one is the Queen of Hearts. I hold one closer, studying it, and the more I look, the more it feels like she’s staring back at me, daring me to figure this out.
“What do you want?” I mutter, turning the card over.
Something catches my eye—a glimmer in the light.
I squint, angling it, and there it is: a faint shimmer beneath the surface.
My heart pounds as I pick at the edge, peeling back the coating bit by bit.
Underneath, there are words—tiny, almost impossible to read.
I lean in close, squinting until the words come into focus.
“To the girl who left, yet can't escape,
The Queen demands your presence, make no mistake.
Where roses are red, and thorns are keen,
A Halloween Ball awaits, hosted by the Queen.
Come willingly, or risk her wrath,
Follow the cards, or suffer her path.
You have until midnight to heed the call,
Or Wonderland shall consume you once and for all.”
I pick up another card, peel back its coating, and find another message. A different riddle:
“Red roses bloom, and shadows grow tall,
The Queen calls for Alice to come to her hall.
Ignore this invite, face peril untold,
Wonderland waits with a darkness that’s cold.”
And the third one:
“The clock is ticking, the hour grows near,
The Queen commands your presence, Alice dear.
Turn away, and you’ll come to regret,
For Wonderland’s fury you shall never forget.”
I straighten up, the words echoing in my head. “Wonderland…” I whisper, looking out through the patio doors where I saw the rabbit. There’s no way I can ignore this. Curiosity might kill me, but I have to know.
Gran always said curiosity keeps you alive—or gets you into trouble. Honestly, I’m not sure which this one will be, but I have to look.
I slip out the back door, shutting it gently behind me so I don’t wake anyone in the house.
The garden stretches in front of me, dark and shadowy, the wind biting with that chill that seeps into your bones.
I pull my hood up, muttering to myself. “Right, Alice, this is just a joke. Someone’s twisted idea of fun.
” Ted, maybe. Or maybe Grace told him about Wonderland.
Or maybe I really am losing it. But what’s the harm in checking?
I take a deep breath, stepping onto the dewy grass, the cold soaking through my shoes. It’s so quiet out here—just the wind and the rustling leaves. The spot where I thought I saw the rabbit earlier looms ahead, pulling me closer.
I bet I’ll find Mum’s washing or something equally mundane.
This is ridiculous. I know it is. It’s just plain crazy.
What am I even thinking? That the Queen of Hearts has invited me to her palace?
One, she hates me. Two, why would she want me there?
And three… “This isn’t real, and I’m definitely losing my mind,” I mutter.
But I keep going, toward where I saw the rabbit—where I saw nothing. Nothing, Alice. It’s nothing but your overactive imagination.
I can tell myself that all I want, but my feet keep moving.
Mum’s garden is long and grand—a place where she hosts parties in the summer, everything perfectly kept.
I walk down the path, careful not to step on her precious lawn.
I get to the spot, and my heart stops, my stomach twisting.
Right in the middle of the path lies another card.
I pick it up without peeling back the coating. It’s the same. The same as before.
“No. No, no, no.” I haven’t even stood up when I spot another card, further down the path.
“All right, Alice. You’ve officially lost it, or this is Wonderland’s version of a joke.
” I snatch up the card, the familiar red ink vivid in the moonlight.
For a second, I think about turning around, going back inside, curling up in bed, and pretending none of this happened.
But then I see another flash of red ahead.
Another one.
“Go back to the house. You’re dreaming. You’ve fallen asleep,” I say, my voice shaky. But my feet keep moving. Before I know it, I’m at Mum’s rose bushes, and there’s another card. It’s like I’m being pulled toward them, and I can’t stop, even if I want to.
More cards lie scattered ahead—a trail leading me to the tree. That tree. The one I haven’t gone near since I was a child. The one Mum forbade me from going near, like it held some terrible secret.
I stop, staring at it. It looks the same as it always has—ancient, twisted, mysterious. The bark is gnarled and rough, beautiful in its own strange way. I swallow hard, my throat dry, and reach out, my fingers brushing the bark.
I remember this tree. I remember clinging to it, trying to find the way back to Wonderland.
That was the worst part—when I came back, all I wanted was to go back again.
But I never could. Never figured out how I got there in the first place.
I think that’s why I let Mum convince me it wasn’t real. But it has to be. All these cards…
Maybe this is about escaping, about running from Gran’s death?
I press my fingers harder against the bark—sparks. Actual sparks. I yelp, jerking my hand back, my heart leaping into my throat. The tree moves. Its roots shift, twisting beneath the ground. I step back, panic setting in.
“What the—” I try to move, but the roots curl around my foot. Before I can react, I stumble backward, landing with a thud that knocks the wind out of me. The cards scatter from my hands, the Queen of Hearts fluttering across the grass.
I try to push myself up, but the roots keep moving. Then I see it—a face forming in the trunk, the bark twisting and shifting until eyes appear, then a mouth—grinning, wicked, full of teeth.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I whisper, my voice trembling.
The face leans down, the bark creaking and groaning as it moves and the mouth stretches even wider. Eyes appear—cat eyes, deep and blue, mischievous that glitter in the darkness.
The Cheshire Cat.
“Hello, Alice,” it purrs. “We've been waiting for you.”
I don’t even have time to scream. The ground beneath me gives way, pulled apart by the writhing roots, and I fall.
Down the rabbit hole.