Chapter 48 #2
“Do you actually know the way out?” I ask, my voice low as we keep walking. Sophia’s still striding ahead, and we’re following, but she’s glancing left and right, pausing just a fraction too long. Some of that confidence—the kind that says she knows exactly where she’s going—seems to be slipping.
“Of course. It’s this way—” she gestures ahead, but then stops short. Her head tilts slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Oh.”
I let my shoulders slump. “A dead end? I thought you said you knew—”
“Oh, ye of little faith,” she cuts me off, striding toward a massive hedge in front of us.
I’m waiting for her to stop, to turn around, maybe even admit a sliver of defeat. But no. Without hesitation, she steps right into it. I’m not joking. Not through it—into it. The hedge ripples, like the bloody thing’s made of water, as she vanishes.
“What in the bloody—” I start, blinking at the spot where she disappeared.
Before I can finish, her head pops back out, her green eyes flashing with a hint of amusement. “Well, are you two coming, or are you planning on standing there gawking all night?”
I glance at Alice, who looks as baffled as I feel.
“After you,” I say, gesturing grandly toward the hedge with one hand, because of course, I’m not going first.
Alice narrows her eyes at me, the corner of her mouth twitching.
“Brave of you,” she mutters, her shoulder brushes mine as she passes, and it lingers—just enough for me to feel the warmth of her, even in this cursed maze.
My hand twitches at my side, a reflexive urge to reach for her again. But I don’t.
Instead, I watch as she steps up to the hedge, hesitates for the briefest second, then pushes through. The hedge ripples again, swallowing her like it did Sophia.
I follow.
A second later, we’re out of the maze, and it’s dark.
Pitch dark. Middle-of-the-night dark. Not a sliver of moonlight, no stars, nothing to tell me where the hell we are.
I don’t even have a clue what time it is.
Could be early morning, late evening—or tomorrow, for all I know.
Wonderland doesn’t give a damn about time, and right now, neither do I.
Everything about this place seems designed to piss me off, and it’s doing a damn fine job of it.
Sophia is ahead again. Alice and I follow. Again.
“So,” I say, breaking the silence. “If this is Thorin’s big plan, where is he?”
“He’s at the palace,” Sophia replies without turning. “Doing his job and trying to keep you both out of trouble.”
“You mean doing what the Queen says.”
Her head tilts slightly, but she doesn’t stop. “I mean keeping the Queen quiet. Keeping her sane before she sends everything she’s got after you both so you can do what is needed.”
“I thought… she did send everything after us,” Alice says.
“Yes, she did. And now there’s a price on your heads as well. Did you both know that?”
That makes me stop dead. “What if you’re leading us somewhere to cash that in?” I say. “Because none of this makes sense. Not a damn bit. You tell us Thorin sent you, that he’s… what? Committing treason? Is that right? Turning on his Queen?”
Sophia stops abruptly and spins to face me, her fiery hair catching the faint light. “Are you casting judgment, Captain?”
I meet her gaze, holding it steady. “Oh, I am, love. But I’m also trying to figure this out. Call it survival instincts.”
She inhales sharply, sucking in air like she’s restraining herself from snapping.
“Do you know what your problem is?” she says, her voice low but cutting.
“You struggle the second anyone tries to help you. I’ve only known you what—thirty minutes?
And already I can see it. Would it be so hard for you to trust someone? Just once?”
“Trust is for fools,” I reply without hesitation.
“Thorin is my friend,” she says firmly. “He’s my friend, and I want to help him. He helps me. Whatever twisted ideas you’ve got about Wonderland, I can promise you—they’re probably wrong.”
“It’s a place filled with madness,” Alice says. “Where nothing makes sense.”
“No,” Sophia says sharply, her eyes narrowing on Alice. “It’s a place full of wonder, where everything makes sense.”
“And the rotting?” I say, gesturing to the decay around us. “The way everything’s falling apart? That makes sense to you?”
Sophia’s expression tightens, and for the first time, I see a flicker of something behind her usual confidence—anger, maybe even grief.
“Wonderland is breaking,” she says, her voice quieter but no less firm.
“But it’s not the place that’s wrong. It’s the people.
The Queen sits where she doesn’t belong.
She takes power that isn’t hers and forces things into places they do not fit.
Wonderland rebels against her. That’s why everything is falling apart.
That’s why everyone is dying. Thorin isn’t loyal to the Queen.
He’s loyal to the realm, to Wonderland.” She shoots Alice a hard look and then turns her gaze on me.
“This is the part I don’t understand. How is our world in the hands of the two most selfish people I’ve ever met? ”
“Selfish?” Alice says, raising a brow.
“Yes,” Sophia snaps. “Did you not leave? Did you not come into Wonderland, mess everything up, and then just leave?”
“No. I was a child. I—”
Sophia scoffs, her lips curling into a bitter smile. “You were the right Alice. The Queen…” She shakes her head, cutting herself off with a deep breath. “Never mind. I’m wasting my breath.”
She turns to me, her gaze hard again. “As for Thorin, he’s my friend. That’s all you need to know. He asked me to come and help you two, and I did. I trust him. I believe in him. And for some godforsaken reason, he believes in you two.”
“It doesn’t change the fact he’s one of the Queen’s guards,” I say.
“You keep saying that like it’s supposed to mean something.”
“He took an oath and he's breaking it for his own gain.”
Sophia stares at me for a long, hard moment, her green eyes blazing.
“You don’t know a thing about Thorin. What he’s done.
What he’s endured. You think Wonderland is twisted now?
The Queen has taken everything from us—our magic, our people, our sanity—and Thorin has been forced to carry out her every whim. He’s trapped, just like we all are.”
Her words come fast, heated now. “The Queen holds onto her power in ways you two don’t understand. You want to distrust me because I came here to save you? Fine. I don’t care. But as long as you two do what you’re supposed to—as long as you get where you need to go—that’s all that matters.”
Her voice hardens further, sharp enough to cut. “I don’t like that Wonderland is in your hands. I’d rather it be in the hands of someone who loves this place as much as we all do. But here we are.”
I narrow my eyes at her, my chest tightening. “And who thought this was a good idea, then? Whose bright idea was this?”
“Peregrine,” she says simply. “It was his idea. The craziest bloody thing we’d ever heard. But Marcellus believed in you. Said you’d do the right thing. Said you always do the right thing.” She looks at Alice when she says this.
Alice’s eyes narrow, her tone sharper now. “Marcellus? Peregrine? I don’t know these people.”
Sophia laughs, the sound bitter. “Of course you do, Alice. You just don’t know their real names.”
She flicks her hand, and light flares between her fingers, forming the glowing image of a blue and grey cat. Its eyes, piercing teal and green, shimmer as it moves lazily around us. Alice gasps, her voice barely above a whisper. “The Cheshire Cat...”
"Perigine" Sophia waves the image away, flicking her hand again, and a new scene appears—a long table, scattered with teapots and cups. Figures move around it, singing. Alice steps forward, her eyes locked on the vision.
“I remember this,” she whispers, moving closer to the table. It looks so real that she reaches out to touch it, her hand passing through the image like smoke. She watches as the Hatter at the head of the table announces, “It’s six o’clock.” The figures shift seats, endlessly drinking tea.
“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” Alice murmurs, her voice distant as she steps closer.
Sophia’s voice cuts through the air, sharp and bitter.
“Marcellus. The Hare. He believed in you so much that he risked his life to stand against the Queen. He ended up her prisoner for it. The only reason he’s alive is Thorin.
If it weren’t for him, the Queen would’ve taken his head—and the Hatter’s—long ago. ”
Her gaze moves between Alice and me, her eyes burning. “So yes, Thorin is my friend. And those people at that table? They mistakenly thought you were theirs.”
"I am," Alice says.
Sophia’s voice lowers, quiet but cutting. “If you were truly Alice... you wouldn’t have left.”