Her Mad Hatter by Marie Hall Page A

recipes.”
    “Did you make the curd too?”
    For a second the sleep left his eyes and he nodded. “Me mum’s recipe, God rest ‘er soul.”
    “Best I’ve ever had.”
    “True enough.” The little mouse accepted the compliment with the air of one who knew they weren’t idle words, tapped the side of his nose and then yawned again. “Had meself a frightfully long night, Miss. Apologies,” he slurred the last and then sank gracefully back down into the pot.
    She giggled. “What in the world could keep a mouse up all night?” She looked at Hatter and the laughter died in her throat. He was giving her that look again.
    The look that stripped away all pretense, that said he was looking at her soul. A woman could melt into that look, lose herself and never find her way back home. She gripped the edge of the table.
    “Have you eaten enough, Alice?”
    She shivered, warm, but not because of the sun. His voice, rough, scratchy, set her body on edge. Alice nodded, not able to speak.
    “Come.” He pushed away from the table and held his hand out to her.
    Holding his hand felt as natural now as breathing. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, she moved into step with him, getting inside his bubble just so that she could feel the heat from his body.
    His jaw tightened, but he didn’t move away.
    “Where are we going?”
    He was leading them deeper into the garden; a black wrought iron fence in the distance drew closer. The garden slowly morphed from swaying flowers to towering tree trunks whose overhanging branches obscured the sky.
    The moment they stepped through the gate, it was like someone had grabbed an enormous window shade and drawn it across the sky. The sunlight melted into moon glow. Stars studded the sky like thousands of glinting diamonds. The royal blue veil of the heavens was broken only by an occasional fluffy white cloud floating past. The night smelled of heat and exotic spices. Somewhere, frogs croaked a gentle song. She shivered.
    “Where are you taking me?”
    He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. Her heart thudded. “A secret,” was all he said.
    It was becoming hard to remember why she needed to go home. Why staying here was a bad idea. When he looked at her like that, like she was a precious jewel and he was the dragon sworn to protect it, she forgot lots of things.
    Something in her recognized that for the first time, she was truly beginning to feel alive. That the world before was the dream, and this one was the truth. That she’d finally come home. Scary how good the thought was.
    A small clearing opened up, revealing a placid lake that stretched a good distance in every direction. Bugs darted and zipped over calm water while small bubbles popped at the surface. Cattails swayed gently.
    “It’s beautiful.”
    He shook his head. “Not this.”
    It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him what, but he was already leading them straight toward the water, splashing in, and giving her no choice but to follow. She braced for the cold, but it never came. It was warm, soothing. They sank in, water covering their heads. She held her breath.
    Everything was black. How long would she have to hold her breath? Did he know where they were going? She looked around, searching for a cave, an opening with a pocket of air. Trying to stave off the panic, she hoped it wouldn’t be too much longer. He wouldn’t hurt her. He might want to, but he wouldn’t. She know that, trusted that, felt it in the depths of her soul.
    They sank deeper and deeper and she was growing more and more dizzy
    She tried to yank her wrist out of his hand; she needed to get back to the surface. Air was a desperate need now, her body shaking and her throat on fire. A blue glow radiated in a flash around them. He looked at her and frowned.
    “Alice?” The glow added shadow to hollows, giving him a sinister appearance. “You can breathe here.” He demonstrated by inhaling deeply.
    Her lungs burned, they were empty,