“You mean like lobster?”
Lobster. Another strange word.
“What are lobsters?”
“A crustacean—lives in the ocean. Red shell, claws, a tail.” She mimed cracking something open. “You break the shell and dip the meat in butter.”
“You mean like fumblefish?”
“No. This is a black meat. Lobster is a white meat.” Alice dipped her fork into the fish and took a tiny bite. Her eyes widened. “It really does taste like lobster.”
“You like it?” The question came out before I could stop it. Since when did I care whether a prisoner enjoyed her meal?
“It’s delicious.”
“Good.” I set down my glass. Something had been nagging at me since I’d pulled her from the forest. A witch, she’d said. But not like any witch I’d known. I still had more questions. “What did you mean—a witch who can’t control her magic?”
“Exactly what it sounds like.” She pushed the fish around on her plate. “I’ve caused accidents in the coven. Some of the witches want me gone. They say I don’t fit in, but Tinker Bell won’t let them.”
I knew that feeling. Being the outsider. The one people whispered about when they thought you couldn’t hear.
“Who’s Tinker Bell?”
“She’s the witch that found me when I was a little girl. I was walking around the rubble of my house. And no, I don’t know what happened. All I know is that I lived there…at least I think I did.”
Alice pushed her plate away. “It burned to the ground.” She stared at the table, tracing a crack in the wood with her finger. “That’s what Tinker Bell told me.”
At least she had someone to tell her what happened. My own memories of home were nothing but fog—fragments that slipped away the harder I tried to hold them. “Have you ever been back there?”
She shrugged and sighed. “It’s a McDonald’s now.”
“McDonald’s?” I searched my memory, bracing for the familiar stab of pain that always came when I tried to remember my old world. Nothing. No pain. No recognition. Just emptiness. “Is that a family?”
She laughed—a real laugh this time. “No. It’s a fast food restaurant. You don’t remember the Golden Arches?”
That smile. God, that smile.
It could launch a thousand ships.
“No.” The name meant nothing to me. “Should I?”
“They’re everywhere. Or they were.” Her smile faded a little. “How long have you been here, Hatter?”
I finished the last bit of fumblefish. “I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Time is irrelevant here.”
“Were you born here?”
I gave her a sly smile. “Questions? I thought I was the one doing the interrogating.”
“I’m just as curious about you as you are about me.” A smile played at the corner of her mouth, her tone lighter than it had been all evening.
“Touché.”
“You speak French?”
Agony pulsed behind my eyes. If this didn’t stop, I’d end up with a migraine again. I couldn’t afford to end up in my bed with the queen’s men hunting me.
I scooped up a raw oyster and let it slide onto my tongue. Salt and sea. I swallowed, savoring it. “How old were you?”
