I'd flown above the forest, searching for any crack in the dimension, any shimmer of a portal. Nothing. Just empty sky and the weight of this prison pressing down.
But maybe I'd been looking at it wrong.
Maybe Alice was the answer. Her magic was unstable, unpredictable, but it was powerful enough to pull her through dimensions? What if she learned to control it? Then she could open that portal.
The only person I knew who could help her was Caterpillar. But he was the queen’s prisoner now.
I looked over at Alice. She’d rested her head against the back of the couch, eyes half closed. “Do you think you could open the portal again?”
She shot up and blinked her eyes. “What? I’m sorry. I missed that.”
I leaned against the wall beside the shutters, arms crossed. Close enough to check the street if I needed to. “You came through a portal. Maybe you had something to do with that.”
"If I did, it was an accident.” She glared at me, color rising in her cheeks. “I didn't utter a spell. The mirror just... appeared."
"You said you heard a voice."
Supposedly someone that sounded like me. Still unnerving.
She rubbed her forehead. "Hatter, you've seen my magic. It's unpredictable."
"I have someone who could help train you."
She lowered her arm. "I had the best."
"And how did that work out for you?"
Something flickered across her face—hurt, then anger. She shot to her feet and stormed toward the door. "That wasn't her fault. It was mine. I'm not a good pupil."
I beat her there, blocking the exit. "Where do you think you're going?"
"Away from you." Her voice shook. "You don't get to kidnap me, rip through my mind, and then insult the only person who ever gave a damn about me."
The words hit harder than I expected.
“You want to wander around the Elder Dimension alone?”
Her face paled. “No, I was looking for a bedroom.”
I gestured toward a bedroom. “It’s over there.”
"So I'm still your prisoner?" Her chin lifted, but her eyes were glassy. She was fighting not to cry.
I should have felt nothing. I'd held dozens of prisoners. But looking at her—defiant, exhausted, barely holding herself together—something twisted in my chest.
"For now," I said quietly.
She held my gaze. "Then get out of my way and lock me in properly. Or let me go."
“If I did let you go, where would you go?”
“I… I don’t know.”
I didn't move.
Neither did she.
The silence stretched between us. Up close, I could see the shadows under her eyes, the slight tremor in her hands. She was running on nothing.
