The Unraveling (Wonderland Book 2)

  THE

  UNRAVELING

  REBEKAH LEWIS

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 by Rebekah Lewis

  The author acknowledges that Lewis Carroll holds all the rights to any characters, locations, or references from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Through the Looking Glass, and "The Hunting of the Snark."

  All rights reserved.

  Editing: Sandra Sookoo

  Cover Design: Victoria Miller

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  www.Rebekah-Lewis.com

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  DEDICATION

  THE UNRAVELING

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  EPILOGUE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  BOOKS BY REBEKAH LEWIS

  DEDICATION

  For Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, better known as Lewis Carroll, whose stories sparked imagination. Thank you for creating characters that have stayed with me since I was a child.

  For Jo Huysamen, marketing woman extraordinaire, for naming Melody and listening to me bemoan writing thousand word blog posts without a prompt. For Summer Ross for helping me come up with the title of this book. And Sandra Sookoo for helping me whip this novel into shape.

  Most of all, for the readers who wanted to know what happened next.

  THE UNRAVELING

  "Oh, 'tis love, 'tis love that makes

  the world go round."

  -Lewis Carroll,

  Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

  PROLOGUE

  Hatter bit the thread he held taut and smiled at the reassuring, subtle pop when it snapped. He jabbed the sewing needle into a large pincushion on the table in front of him and, with both hands, collected his finalized masterpiece in order to examine his work. It was a lady's hat with a wide brim, slightly turned down in the front to shield the eye from the harsh light of the sun. Puce, with a plum ribbon. A feather from the Jubjub bird accented it on one side, providing a chaotic burst of color.

  Satisfaction coursed through his veins at the result of his craft. Flawless, as ever. Yet trepidation hovered in the back of his mind, suggesting his impeccable talent for creating wasn't enough. Everything he made came out exactly how he envisioned it. Where was the mystery? The challenge? The wonder?

  In a place known as Wonderland, wonder surely existed for its own inhabitants, did it not?

  The miniature bell above his front door jingled, distracting Hatter from his thoughts. He placed the hat upon a wooden peg roughly the size of a woman's head to set in his show room later. Then he turned toward the door. He clasped his hands over the well-worn, scuffed surface of his worktable and waited for his guest to approach, but nobody appeared.

  With a frown, he fidgeted on the stool. Still, the doorway remained unoccupied. Was he being robbed? How very curious. He'd never been robbed before and couldn't recall the last time Wonderland had a theft. The crime rate had diminished since the Queen of Hearts met her fate.

  "Ahem. Down here, Hatter."

  He splayed his palms against the smooth wood, rose to his feet, and then peered over the edge of the table. A gray-and-black striped cat grinned up at him, swishing his fluffed tail across the smooth floor Marchy had swept up for him the day before.

  "Oh, you again." Hatter pursed his lips in distaste. Devrel, the last of the Cheshire cats, a race of Boojums, visited only when he sought something, which happened often. "When did you start using the door?"

  "I was in here earlier and you ignored me, even when I spoke to you, so I tried a different approach." He vanished, and Hatter reclaimed his place on the stool as the cat reappeared atop his table from thin air. Since the cat sat nearly two feet in height, the feline's blue gaze met his evenly. "I need your help." Devrel lifted a paw and licked between his claws.

  As he'd suspected. "No."

  "Pardon?" Devrel's ever-present smile faltered. "And here I thought we were friends."

  "I said no." Hatter reached to the side and picked up the teacup and saucer he'd left there. Holding the saucer in one hand, he brought the cup to his lips and... He sighed, glancing into the empty cup. Once again, he'd forgotten to pour tea in it. Sixth time that week.

  "Hatter, it's not for me. It's for Gareth."

  Of course it was. Gareth, slayer of the dreaded Jabberwock, was Devrel's companion. Well, not his companion companion, but they were known for traversing through Wonderland together. Much like Marchy and Hatter were considered a duo themselves. Regardless, a mere mention of the man's name conjured resentment he couldn't move past even if Gareth couldn't be held completely responsible.

  "The pair of you still owe me five buttons, two thimbles, and a patch."

  Devrel gave his tail a jerky twitch. "You'll get your bloody buttons. Does it look like I have pockets?"

  "I made you a waistcoat as an un-birthday present, yet you refuse to wear it. Your excuse holds no weight—I sewed pockets into it."

  Devrel patted the back of his hand with a soft paw. "And it is a lovely waistcoat, but I only wear it for special occasions. Wouldn't want it ruined, would we?"

  "No, I suppose not." Regardless, Hatter had put a lot of care into that waistcoat. It wouldn't kill the little beast to wear it once and a while. "Why does Gareth require my assistance? Isn't he more than capable of achieving anything he sets his mind to?"

  "Not when both queens deny his every request." He growled and twitched his tail several times in quick movements. "Do you recall the woman you made a dress for about six weeks ago at his request?"

  How could he forget the wench who refused to cooperate with his style of measurements? Naturally, she'd been attached to Gareth's hip from the moment he flashed a smile her way. Hatter had attended the Red Queen's ball to ensure she hadn't made a mockery of his craft. Luckily, the gown had fit across her spine properly after all. Hmmph. Some people had no respect for the art of proper wardrobing. She deserved Gareth for all the care she put into details.

  You're being unfair again... Blasted conscience. "You're referring to the findling girl."

  "Yes, yes. That one."

  "What about her?" Hatter lifted the cup a second time, belatedly remembered it still lacked contents, and then set it down in a huff.

  "Gareth is in bad shape. Ever since Wonderland rejected Cadence, he—"

  "Cadence?"

  "Her name."

  "If you say so." Wasn't a very good name. Though few ever were.

  "Ever since Wonderland rejected Cadence," Devrel repeated, glaring from the interruption while maintaining his characteristic grin. "He barely eats. He doesn't want to do anything. He's heartsick, and it has to end before I claw his eyes
out from boredom. The Red Queen took pity on him and gave him a reprieve on her marriage demands, but she grows restless. She will not let him remain unwed for long."

  Hatter traced the rim of the cup with his finger and muttered, "It's always tragic when a man with such promise falls prey to the heart." The words were spoken bitterly, yet Devrel either didn't notice the undertones or chose not to comment. He didn't expect much different.

  The cat cast his gaze toward the ceiling and shook his head. "Hatter, Hatter. Dear, sweet, oblivious Hatter. We have to bring Cadence back. You know how this land enhances emotions. Remember when Alice cried salt tears?"

  Hatter bared his teeth. She was enchanted to a larger height and that doorknob lacked manners. It had nothing to do with mistaking lust for love. "Wonderland rejected the findling. Why make it worse by going through such lengths for naught?"

  Devrel paced the length of the worktable. Hatter moved his eyes back and forth as the cat's tail bashed into the feather on his recently completed hat. Again. Again. Yet another time. He snatched the hat and carried it over to a different peg far out of Devrel's tail trajectory.

  "She wasn't prepared." Devrel said, seemingly unbothered by Hatter's actions. "She had family back home, and it weighed too heavily upon her. I watched her and Gareth together on the way to the Red Kingdom. There was something there, forming, but not quite in fruition. If we brought her back, she'd have a chance to prove she belonged here, with Gareth. He's had time to realize what he wants, and all he needs is one last chance."

  Well, if Gareth wants one more chance, than by all means... "Romanticism is a waste of time. A myth. Why pursue it?"

  "I didn't say you had to believe in it."

  Love didn't impress him. If he couldn't hold it in his hands, mend it, shape it, design it, then...it didn't exist. Nothing he couldn't create for himself had substance, nor had he the time for it. Hatter studied Devrel and asked, "Why do you think Wonderland would allow a second chance?"

  "Alice did it."

  The cat seemed determined to push her name into the conversation. Alice. The girl who'd fallen down the rabbit hole and shook up their realm. She'd somehow managed to enter twice when she stumbled across one of the looking glass entrances. Hatter had been young then, a boy of four and ten the first time, merely two years older than she. He'd been intrigued by her, but...she'd left.

  Twice.

  He pushed his emotions back behind the walls he'd constructed to contain that particular subject and bit out, "Alice found her way on her own and still couldn't stay. You brought the findling here."

  "I can't bring her the same way twice. I've tried. She doesn't even see me when I cross realms now, no matter what I do or try to say to her. Alice had nothing here to bind her, but Cadence does. If she returns for Gareth, mayhap she will stay."

  Hatter contemplated this as he collected his teacup and strode from the room. Nothing to bind her here, had she? Bah! Alice had friends here. She could have had all she dreamed of and more. On her second venture, he had been one and twenty and she nine and ten. He'd asked her to stay with him, had kissed her and she had reciprocated with interest, but it hadn't been in the cards.

  Wonderland chose carefully when it allowed someone to stay. Sometimes it made sense, other times it seemed completely mad. Alice hadn't wanted it enough. Which meant, no matter how much affection Cadence had for Gareth, it hadn't been strong enough either. Love was merely an over-romanticized notion, not some powerful force creating happy endings wherever it dared to venture. Once he had believed in such a thing. No longer.

  Devrel followed as Hatter wove through the twisting turns of his home and out the back door. Under a pavilion, four tables of varied sizes and shapes with differing patterns of table cloths draping them were pushed together and scattered with teapots and snacks of all sorts. A man sat at the place setting next to Hatter's chair at the very end, stirring a cup of tea with lazy strokes of a long-handled spoon. Atop his head, two brown rabbit ears poked through his hat, only a few shades darker than his skin, but lighter still than his hair. Despite the ears, the rest of his body was like any other man. Harold March came from a family of halflings. All of them bore an animal characteristic, but none shared the same one.

  "Marchy." Hatter nodded as he picked up a steaming pot of tea and poured himself a cup. Replacing the pot, he lifted the porcelain to his lips, paused, turned to Devrel, and then offered the cup to him instead. Marchy said nothing, but stroked the neck of the sleeping dormouse beside his cup with his fingertip.

  "No thanks." Devrel hopped into an armchair across from Marchy and sighed contentedly as he sank into the contours of the cushion. "I need you to speak to the rabbit."

  Marchy sat bolt right in his chair. "Who're you calling rabbit, beast?"

  Devrel hissed, startling the dormouse awake, who took one wide-eyed glance at Devrel and scurried into Marchy's jacket pocket. Marchy patted the pocket to comfort him.

  "Not you, the White Rabbit."

  As Marchy guffawed at the notion, Hatter furrowed his brow. "No one simply talks to the White Rabbit. He retired after the tyranny of the Queen of Hearts and only shows up to social events when he pleases." The Red Queen had defeated and executed the former monarch for the many crimes she'd committed, one of which had been exterminating Devrel's entire family because the Boojum who'd befriended Alice had made a mockery of her. The White Rabbit had distanced himself from everyone since, and the whispers surrounding his disappearance claimed he was ashamed of being too afraid of losing his head to leave the queen's service. Instead, he lived in solitude to atone for his inaction.

  "Yes, but he has always liked you. Me, not so much. If I ask, he won't listen. If you do, he might."

  Liked was a strong word. Rabbit merely tolerated anyone. "You want him to create a portal to the findling's land. Anything can happen. Anyone can enter before the portal closes. What if you catch the wrong person? What's next, are you going to tamper with time as well?" Hatter could list the various ways it could go terribly wrong, but he wouldn't.

  "Not too much time should have passed yet, so no need to tamper with that. Besides, time tampering is illegal. As for random findlings toppling in—that is a risk I'm willing to take." Devrel stared into his cup as he stirred the amber liquid with an extended claw. His grin seemed strained.

  Marchy sipped calmly at his tea, glancing between the two of them, before adding, "Sounds like an awful lot of trouble to bring a girl through. I say let the Red Queen choose his bride and be done with it. Brides aren't important so long as they perform their duties."

  "Which explains why no female dares to be caught alone with you, Harold." Devrel said, folding his ears back.

  "It's more fun to risk being caught and getting away with it." Marchy chuckled.

  Hatter rolled his eyes. His friend was ever the cad, but a good man. Unfortunately, Devrel had a point. In Wonderland, being caught intimately with a woman ended in marriage. Marchy seemed to enjoy risking his neck, so to speak. Hatter was too busy for such pastimes. He'd meddled with females before, but ultimately it never suited him. He no longer allowed his mind to dwell on it.

  Rapid twitching of Devrel's tail drowned out the rest of the noise, a metronome in time with the steady beat of Hatter's own heart. If Wonderland did not want Cadence, she would only give Gareth false hope upon her arrival. It would be foolish to consider anything impossible though. Devrel, an impossible cat with an impossible grin, believed Cadence deserved a second chance, as ill-fated as it may be. Damn his soft heart, but he would help. Even without the buttons, thimbles, and patch, which he would collect afterward.

  CHAPTER ONE

  My sister is a lunatic.

  Melody Adams sat at a table in the bookstore coffee shop while Cadence flipped dramatically through page after page of some oversized hardback. She bet her iced caramel macchiato the book was about Lewis Carroll and the novels he wrote. Fictional novels. For children. Cadence was twenty-three. Nothing against imagination, but a
t some point everyone had to grow up and quit waiting for fantastical miracles to disrupt their ordinary lives to make living easy or exciting.

  Last year, Melody had been across the country working on—well, more like flirting with the idea—of seriously perusing a law degree, but that was now on hold. Family took precedence at the moment. Their mother had called her home because she didn't know how to handle the delicate situation of "the incident." Something had happened to Cadence, and no one could convince her to tell the truth about it.

  Her sister had been discovered a year ago, reeking of beer and covered in leaves, claiming she'd fallen for a dragon-slaying knight and had developed and intense obsession with all things related to Wonderland out of the blue. In the months that followed, Cadence lost her job, dropped out of college, and ended up evicted from her apartment, forced to move home.

  She rambled constantly about "finding a way back." Why else would someone attempt to walk through every mirror they encountered? Melody had taken her to see a movie last week, and Cadence excused herself in the middle to use the restroom. When she didn't return, Melody had gone after her. Her baby sister was standing on the counter, both hands on the glass, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  She hadn't told their mother. If Dad found out what she'd done, he would likely make good on his threat to call for psychiatric assistance. Cadence was already seeing a therapist, and if she didn't ease up, she would end up in an institution. Although, every day brought Melody closer to the notion it might be best if her sister did have constant care for whatever had broken within her.

  "Where is it? Where is it!" Cadence slammed the book shut with a sob and threw it down the aisle with a reverberating thud. Shoppers looked up from perusing titles to stare as she sank to the floor against the shelves and covered her face with her hands.

  Melody abandoned her barely touched macchiato and rushed over before the bookstore employee glaring in Cadence's direction made a move to reprimand her. She scooped up the book, holding it so hard she swore a knuckle popped. The tall, auburn-haired employee with a stern jaw gave them the stare down.