“Her hair is aether-altered,” Hatter explained.
Although I found the caterpillar’s assumption absurd, at least bashing me was an improvement over him obnoxiously repeating the same question.
I placed a hand on Hatter’s shoulder, silently telling him I had this.
“To be honest, I don’t feel like much of a princess either,” I admitted, “but that’s what they tell me. Actually, I identify much more with the warriors whose ghosts fill this forest.”
The caterpillar stared at me, took a huge puff of his hookah, and then blew the smoke right in my face.
What an asshole.
“I see that you’re more astute than you appear. Because of that, I will hear your request.Now.”
When the caterpillar says jump, I guess I’m supposed to say how high? Ugh, whatever.
“It’s come to my attention that I’m aether-blessed. The issue is that my magic is locked up tight inside me, with traumatic memories. I’ve been told only another aether-blessed fae or you can release them?”
He took a puff of the hookah before sending another plume of smoke into my face. “You are correct.” He looked down at me, offering me nothing more.
“Well, will you help me? Will you release my aether so I have a chance at fighting the Red Queen?”
Belatedly, I realized that it was probably idiotic to tell this guy why I wanted the aether released. Then again, he might already know.
Though, as I studied him, and he assessed me in return, I got the sense that he didn’t give a damn about the Red Queen. No, this caterpillar, with his eyes narrowed and lips pressed firmly together, was considering my offer in a way I recognized.
He looks like Xavier when he’s negotiating an offer,I realized, right as the caterpillar spoke.
“I will help you.”
Behind me, Dee let out a cheer.
“But first,” the caterpillar continued, “I require payment.”
“We don’t have any—”
“Of the sort that only a warrior can provide.”
A pit formed in my stomach; whatever this caterpillar wanted, I knew I wouldn’t like it.
“What do you need done?”
“There’s a creature in these woods. One who has stalked me for centuries. I wish for you to kill him.”
“Do you have any other specifics? What kind of creature? A furry monster chased us earlier . . . Is it that? What kills them?”
“Not the beast, something else. My enemy is unnamable, a shadow. He has kept me trapped here for centuries. However, I have a weapon that will slay him.”
The caterpillar picked up a tobacco tin, and twisted the lid. Slowly, he pulled out an object and held it up.
A single claw?
“Is that going to be sufficient?” I asked.
“Absolutely,” the caterpillar replied, his antennae sticking up as if I offended him with the question. “This weapon has been dipped in the blood of the creature’s enemies. As such, it is very powerful. He will be drawn to it—want to kill you for possessing it.”
“And what about the other monsters? What if we can’t find this shadow because of everything else in the forest?”
“Impossible. Where the shadow goes, others shun.” He turned his small eyes on me. “Do you accept?”
