desk?”
“Huh. That’s easy. I’m surprised Alice didn’t know the answer.”
“We’ve already established that you’re much smarter than your sister.” Hatter glanced at Henry out of the corner of his eye to see his reaction to the small compliment, and was pleased to see a smile curve Henry’s lips. “So, what is the answer?”
“Ah. Because they both produce notes.”
Hatter blinked again. “Huh. Yes, I guess that works, doesn’t it. Good show.”
Henry tugged at their joined hands, but Hatter refused to let go. “So what is the real answer?”
“The real answer?”
“To the riddle. What was the original answer?”
“Um, you guessed it.” Hatter cleared his throat and refused to meet Henry’s eyes.
Henry’s eyes narrowed, and Hatter knew he’d been found out. “You didn’t know the answer when you posed the riddle, did you? That’s what made Alice so mad.”
“Whose side are you on, anyway?” Hatter grumbled, but he brightened a few moments later. “Look! We’re nearly out of the Neverglades!”
Sure enough, the light ahead was slowly becoming brighter, cutting through the dense dimness of the Neverglades swamp, and chasing away the shadows. Hatter picked up the pace, anxious to leave the swamp and all its deadly, toothy residents behind.
Only after they’d cleared the last of the dismal swamp and stood under the bright Wonderland sun once again, did Hatter realize he was still holding fast to Henry’s hand. Henry seemed to realize it at the same time, because they dropped each other’s hands and took a step away, neither meeting the other’s eyes.
Hatter took advantage of the moment to scan the area, trying to figure out where they were. He knew in an instant. The sweet, syrupy, yeasty smell on the breeze gave it away even more than the gently sloping foothills in the distance. They were on the Sugar Plains, which eventually led to the Confection Mountains.
“We have a few hours left before sunset. Best to keep walking.” He hoped they’d have enough light to get up into the gently rolling hills before needing to make camp. The area adjacent to the swamp was relatively flat, and dotted with sweet-smelling wildflowers. It would come as a relief after all the turmoil they’d suffered since leaving Caterpillar’s Lair, but Hatter knew it still held its own unique dangers.
One glance at the gray smoke gently puffing from the mountaintops told him the ovens were warmed up and ready to bake in the Confection Mountains. If that were the case, then it wouldn’t matter whether it was midnight or high noon. Trouble would come for them either way, and there’d be no talking their way out of it, either. The Bakers were not a rational lot when it came to plying their trade.
C HAPTER N INE
“W HAT ’ S THAT smell?” Henry lifted his nose in the air and sniffed. “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it reminds me of my grandmother’s kitchen.”
“It’s nothing. Your imagination. Keep walking.”
“No, it isn’t. I can smell it. It smells warm, and spicy, and sugary… and familiar.” Henry took another couple of deep breaths. “I know! Cookies! That’s what it is. I smell cookies baking.”
“You’re daft. We’re out in the middle of nowhere. Do you see a bakeshop anywhere nearby? Keep walking.”
Henry glanced at Hatter, then took a longer look. Hatter was chewing the inside of his cheek, and worry lines creased his forehead. He looked frightened, although about what, Henry couldn’t guess. After escaping the monstrous ants in the Red Anthill, and managing the backward nature of Drawrof, and navigating the treacherous Neverglades, their walk across the flower-strewn meadow in the bakery-scented breeze was almost a vacation. What terror could the smell of a fresh, oven-baked treat possibly hold? “Hatter? What is it? You need to tell me. You look practically scared out of your pants.”
Hatter’s eyes bulged, and he swallowed hard. “You
“Huh. That’s easy. I’m surprised Alice didn’t know the answer.”
“We’ve already established that you’re much smarter than your sister.” Hatter glanced at Henry out of the corner of his eye to see his reaction to the small compliment, and was pleased to see a smile curve Henry’s lips. “So, what is the answer?”
“Ah. Because they both produce notes.”
Hatter blinked again. “Huh. Yes, I guess that works, doesn’t it. Good show.”
Henry tugged at their joined hands, but Hatter refused to let go. “So what is the real answer?”
“The real answer?”
“To the riddle. What was the original answer?”
“Um, you guessed it.” Hatter cleared his throat and refused to meet Henry’s eyes.
Henry’s eyes narrowed, and Hatter knew he’d been found out. “You didn’t know the answer when you posed the riddle, did you? That’s what made Alice so mad.”
“Whose side are you on, anyway?” Hatter grumbled, but he brightened a few moments later. “Look! We’re nearly out of the Neverglades!”
Sure enough, the light ahead was slowly becoming brighter, cutting through the dense dimness of the Neverglades swamp, and chasing away the shadows. Hatter picked up the pace, anxious to leave the swamp and all its deadly, toothy residents behind.
Only after they’d cleared the last of the dismal swamp and stood under the bright Wonderland sun once again, did Hatter realize he was still holding fast to Henry’s hand. Henry seemed to realize it at the same time, because they dropped each other’s hands and took a step away, neither meeting the other’s eyes.
Hatter took advantage of the moment to scan the area, trying to figure out where they were. He knew in an instant. The sweet, syrupy, yeasty smell on the breeze gave it away even more than the gently sloping foothills in the distance. They were on the Sugar Plains, which eventually led to the Confection Mountains.
“We have a few hours left before sunset. Best to keep walking.” He hoped they’d have enough light to get up into the gently rolling hills before needing to make camp. The area adjacent to the swamp was relatively flat, and dotted with sweet-smelling wildflowers. It would come as a relief after all the turmoil they’d suffered since leaving Caterpillar’s Lair, but Hatter knew it still held its own unique dangers.
One glance at the gray smoke gently puffing from the mountaintops told him the ovens were warmed up and ready to bake in the Confection Mountains. If that were the case, then it wouldn’t matter whether it was midnight or high noon. Trouble would come for them either way, and there’d be no talking their way out of it, either. The Bakers were not a rational lot when it came to plying their trade.
C HAPTER N INE
“W HAT ’ S THAT smell?” Henry lifted his nose in the air and sniffed. “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it reminds me of my grandmother’s kitchen.”
“It’s nothing. Your imagination. Keep walking.”
“No, it isn’t. I can smell it. It smells warm, and spicy, and sugary… and familiar.” Henry took another couple of deep breaths. “I know! Cookies! That’s what it is. I smell cookies baking.”
“You’re daft. We’re out in the middle of nowhere. Do you see a bakeshop anywhere nearby? Keep walking.”
Henry glanced at Hatter, then took a longer look. Hatter was chewing the inside of his cheek, and worry lines creased his forehead. He looked frightened, although about what, Henry couldn’t guess. After escaping the monstrous ants in the Red Anthill, and managing the backward nature of Drawrof, and navigating the treacherous Neverglades, their walk across the flower-strewn meadow in the bakery-scented breeze was almost a vacation. What terror could the smell of a fresh, oven-baked treat possibly hold? “Hatter? What is it? You need to tell me. You look practically scared out of your pants.”
Hatter’s eyes bulged, and he swallowed hard. “You
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