“Easy,” Grump grunted, securing his grip.
I gritted my teeth, choking back a scream. Colors swirled in front of my eyes, blurring my vision. My stomach lurched. For a horrifying second, I thought I was going to pass out before I even took a step.
No. Not now. Not when Alice needed me.
I forced my legs to move. One step. Another. Each one sent fresh agony tearing through me.
“Slower,” Chester said, his voice unusually serious. “You’re no good to her dead.”
“I’m no good to her here either.” The admission burned.
They draped my arms over their shoulders and half dragged me across the cavern. My feet stumbled over the uneven stone. I couldn’t feel my legs properly. Couldn’t tell if I was walking or being carried.
It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except getting to her.
The cavern stretched endlessly before me. Every step was a battle. Every breath was fire.
Hold on, Alice. I’m coming. Just hold on.
We stumbled in silence. “I should have put her bed next to yours.” Grump grumbled.
“Ah, but you didn’t.” Chester’s voice was soft, but it carried a blade. “You didn’t trust her. Even as her life force flickered like a candle in a storm. Even as she poured herself empty to save him.” A pause. “Trust is a curious thing, isn’t it, Grump? Always arriving too late.”
My jaw tightened. Alice had nearly killed herself to save me, and Grump still hadn't believed in her. Had probably stood there with his arms crossed, waiting for her to fail.
Caterpillar and Doc sat on opposite sides of Alice. She was stretched out on a cot, her face pale as moonlight, beads of sweat dotting her skin.
So still. Too still.
My chest cracked open. This vibrant woman—this fierce, stubborn, beautiful witch who’d argued with me, kissed me, saved my life—lay there like a broken doll. Like she was already gone.
Fuck no.
Doc placed a cool rag on her forehead. “I’m doing everything I can, Hatter.”
“It’s not enough.”
Caterpillar exhaled slowly, smoke curling from his lips. “Enough. Such a small word. Never quite as big as we need it to be.” His half-lidded eyes drifted to Alice. “She gave everything. And now we give what we can. Whether it is enough...” He paused. “That is not for us to decide.”
“Then who decides?” I wanted to hit something. Break something. Anything but stand here helpless while she slipped away. “Who decides whether she lives or dies?”
Caterpillar studied me for a long moment. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. Whatever he searched for in my face, Ineeded him to find it. Needed him to believe I'd do anything to save her. Then he released Alice’s hand and stood.
“You know,” he said slowly, exhaling a curl of smoke, “there are stories in every world. Tales of sleepers who wander too far into the dark.” He moved aside, making room for me. “And tales of what brings them back.”
“What are you saying?”
“I am saying...” He paused, his half-lidded eyes knowing. “That sometimes the lost need a reason to return. A voice. A touch.” His gaze dropped to Alice’s pale lips. “A reminder that they are not forgotten.”
My heart stuttered. “You think?—”
“I think nothing.” Caterpillar drifted back. “I merely observe. She saved you with everything she had. Perhaps...” A slow blink. “Perhaps you can return the favor.”
I looked down at Alice. At her still face. At the lips I’d kissed. Fragile. I hated seeing her like this—hated knowing I was the reason she'd nearly burned herself out.
Chester and Grump lowered me onto the edge of her cot. Fire shot through my side, but I didn’t care. I took her cold hand in mine.
“Come back to me,” I whispered. “Please.”
