shoulders.
Henry bit down hard on his tongue to stop laughing. Hatter was truly terrified. “I’m, um… sorry, Hatter.”
Hatter looked away and lifted his chin. “As if I believe you.”
“No, really. I’m sorry.” He really did feel badly, and placed a hand on Hatter’s arm. Henry knew from experience that being mocked wasn’t pleasant. People had laughed at him his entire life because of Alice’s tales. “Please forgive me. I was out of line. It must have been awful for you.”
“It was. The Bakers are not known for compassion.”
Henry took Hatter’s hand and patted it. He nodded toward the hills. “That’s not such a huge mountain range. Perhaps we can find a way around them.”
“No. There’s no other way to go.” Hatter shook his head. “The Neverglades are behind us, and going backward won’t do us any good anyway. To the east lies the Endless Sugar Sand Desert. People rarely go there, and only someone with a death wish would attempt to cross it on foot.”
“If no one goes there, how do you know it’s endless?”
Hatter gave him a dark look and pulled his hand away. “First, it’s right there in the name. It’s not the Practically Endless Sugar Sand Desert, you know. Second, no one who tried to cross it ever came back. They’re either dead or still walking. In any case, it doesn’t sound particularly pleasant to me.”
Henry smirked. “Maybe they reached the other side and liked it better there, and that’s why they never came back. Didn’t you ever think of that?”
“And maybe they’re lying out somewhere on the scorching hot sugar sand, with nothing left to them but a jumble of bleached bones. Prove me wrong, and I’ll happily lead the way in.”
“Point taken.”
“Really, I do live here, you know. Why must you question every word that comes out of my mouth?”
Henry thought about it. Why did he? He had the sneaking suspicion it was because Hatter—and Wonderland in general—was tied so closely to Alice. Since he’d spent nearly his entire life disbelieving her, doubting Hatter seemed a natural progression. “Sorry. You’re right. I guess I have issues with anything Wonderland-related. I never believed Alice’s stories, you know. I always thought she made it all up to get attention. I guess I owe her an apology when I get back.”
“Hmph.” Hatter nodded. “She was utterly annoying, a pain in virtually everyone’s posterior, and no one was sorry to see her leave here, but the one thing she wasn’t was a liar.”
Henry nodded, and sought to change the subject. He found talking about Alice’s virtues to be an unfamiliar and uncomfortable pastime. He pointed to the west. “What’s that way?”
“Venom River. It’s a waterway that begins at Headless Falls, just west of Caterpillar’s Lair. It cuts through the Confection Mountains, and empties into the Undead Lake. The water is poisonous and acidic. It’s a river of rocks, rough, roiling whitewater, and swirling vortexes that’ll melt your raft out from under you and the flesh from your bones within five minutes of setting sail on it. And that’s only if you can manage to navigate the shore to get to the water in the first place. The banks are the feeding and breeding grounds for venomous snakes, basilisks, spiders, and an especially ferocious species of firedrake.”
Henry suppressed a shudder. “And you really call this place ‘Wonderland,’ huh?”
“Yes, of course. It’s named that because many parts of it are wondrous, but also because it’s a wonder anyone ever survives some of it.” Hatter grabbed Henry’s hand and began to pull him along toward the hills. “Our only choice is to go over the hills. Once we’re in the mountains, there will be plenty of cover to keep us hidden from the Baker armies as we cross. Let’s go. Keep your head down, and if you hear someone yell ‘fire’… duck.”
T HE MEADOW gradually grew steeper, wildflowers and grasses thinning, thickets
Henry bit down hard on his tongue to stop laughing. Hatter was truly terrified. “I’m, um… sorry, Hatter.”
Hatter looked away and lifted his chin. “As if I believe you.”
“No, really. I’m sorry.” He really did feel badly, and placed a hand on Hatter’s arm. Henry knew from experience that being mocked wasn’t pleasant. People had laughed at him his entire life because of Alice’s tales. “Please forgive me. I was out of line. It must have been awful for you.”
“It was. The Bakers are not known for compassion.”
Henry took Hatter’s hand and patted it. He nodded toward the hills. “That’s not such a huge mountain range. Perhaps we can find a way around them.”
“No. There’s no other way to go.” Hatter shook his head. “The Neverglades are behind us, and going backward won’t do us any good anyway. To the east lies the Endless Sugar Sand Desert. People rarely go there, and only someone with a death wish would attempt to cross it on foot.”
“If no one goes there, how do you know it’s endless?”
Hatter gave him a dark look and pulled his hand away. “First, it’s right there in the name. It’s not the Practically Endless Sugar Sand Desert, you know. Second, no one who tried to cross it ever came back. They’re either dead or still walking. In any case, it doesn’t sound particularly pleasant to me.”
Henry smirked. “Maybe they reached the other side and liked it better there, and that’s why they never came back. Didn’t you ever think of that?”
“And maybe they’re lying out somewhere on the scorching hot sugar sand, with nothing left to them but a jumble of bleached bones. Prove me wrong, and I’ll happily lead the way in.”
“Point taken.”
“Really, I do live here, you know. Why must you question every word that comes out of my mouth?”
Henry thought about it. Why did he? He had the sneaking suspicion it was because Hatter—and Wonderland in general—was tied so closely to Alice. Since he’d spent nearly his entire life disbelieving her, doubting Hatter seemed a natural progression. “Sorry. You’re right. I guess I have issues with anything Wonderland-related. I never believed Alice’s stories, you know. I always thought she made it all up to get attention. I guess I owe her an apology when I get back.”
“Hmph.” Hatter nodded. “She was utterly annoying, a pain in virtually everyone’s posterior, and no one was sorry to see her leave here, but the one thing she wasn’t was a liar.”
Henry nodded, and sought to change the subject. He found talking about Alice’s virtues to be an unfamiliar and uncomfortable pastime. He pointed to the west. “What’s that way?”
“Venom River. It’s a waterway that begins at Headless Falls, just west of Caterpillar’s Lair. It cuts through the Confection Mountains, and empties into the Undead Lake. The water is poisonous and acidic. It’s a river of rocks, rough, roiling whitewater, and swirling vortexes that’ll melt your raft out from under you and the flesh from your bones within five minutes of setting sail on it. And that’s only if you can manage to navigate the shore to get to the water in the first place. The banks are the feeding and breeding grounds for venomous snakes, basilisks, spiders, and an especially ferocious species of firedrake.”
Henry suppressed a shudder. “And you really call this place ‘Wonderland,’ huh?”
“Yes, of course. It’s named that because many parts of it are wondrous, but also because it’s a wonder anyone ever survives some of it.” Hatter grabbed Henry’s hand and began to pull him along toward the hills. “Our only choice is to go over the hills. Once we’re in the mountains, there will be plenty of cover to keep us hidden from the Baker armies as we cross. Let’s go. Keep your head down, and if you hear someone yell ‘fire’… duck.”
T HE MEADOW gradually grew steeper, wildflowers and grasses thinning, thickets
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