Free Mad About the Hatter by Dakota Chase Page B

say either makes no sense, or is jumbled into a giant, convoluted knot?”
    Hatter shrugged. “Gifted, I suppose. Well, on we go.” He stepped forward and began to lead the way toward the west, across a wildflower-strewn meadow reaching toward the horizon, beyond which the Red Queen’s castle lay.
    He hoped.
    Direction was never really his strong suit. Hatter once got lost in his own closet, and might’ve starved if it hadn’t been for the biscuits he kept in his coat pockets.
    Wisely, he refrained from sharing that tidbit of information with Henry.
    Speaking of biscuits, he remembered it’d been a long while since last he ate. He reached into his pocket and fished around for a bit before pulling out a couple of lovely scones. He graciously offered one to Henry, who, after a few moments of hesitation, took it. Munching, they walked on.
    Darkness was falling when they arrived at a low, split-rail fence running in both directions as far as they could see. Hatter called a halt and peered over the fence. Those trees, those flowers…. He felt the wind blowing against his face when only a moment ago it had been at his back, and knew where they were, though he hadn’t realized they’d need to pass through the area to get to the Queen’s castle. He certainly didn’t remember passing it on the way to the Lair.
    Still, there it was. Better to deal with it in the morning.
    “We’ll camp here for the night. Get a fresh start in the morning.”
    “Why? It’s not dark yet.”
    Hatter resisted pulling something with heft out of his pocket—he had a hardcover edition of Tea Time Etiquette in there somewhere—and smacking Henry with it. How could someone so handsome be so very stupid? “Darkness comes swiftly in Wonderland, and all manner of uglies ride its coattails. Goblins. Trolls. Fidgits. You don’t want to run into a Fidgit in the dark of night, believe you me! Now, let’s settle down as best we can, and get a few winks, eh? Besides, this fence marks the beginning of the Drawrof. It isn’t an easy land to cross, and only a fool would attempt it without a good night’s sleep.”
    He knelt on the ground, and began digging in his pocket again. Before long, he’d brought out dinnerware for two, a pot filled with a hearty stew, a stone jug of iced tea, and a small, crackling campfire that spat green and purple sparks. He set the pot to warm on the fire, and poured tea for them both.
    “How did you do that?” Henry gaped at the collection Hatter pulled out of his pocket.
    “Do what?”
    “Carry all that stuff in your pocket? Are you a magician? That’s it, isn’t it? You’re like Copperfield, or Criss Angel.”
    “Never heard of them. Do they live in Wonderland?”
    “No. They’re magicians. They do tricks… sleight of hand.”
    “I can’t imagine what the size of one’s hands has to do with anything.”
    “No, not slight… sleight.” Henry huffed a stand of hair out of his eyes and looked frustrated. “They do magic.”
    “How does one do magic? Magic just is.”
    “Not where I come from it’s not. Back home, magic is just misdirection and sleight of hand. Tricks.”
    Hatter cocked his head. “Hmm. How very dull. It does explain much about you and your sister, though. In Wonderland, magic is as much a part of us as our skin. It’s possible to live without it, but it would be oh, so very uncomfortable. Oh, look. The stew’s ready.”
    He ladled some into bowls for the two of them. For the moment, Henry seemed more inclined to feed his face than exercise his tongue, and since Hatter was hungry as well, silence descended on their little campsite.
    Afterward, they each stretched out on the grass, making themselves as comfortable as possible. Hatter fished around in his pocket until he found a pair of clean, if threadbare, blankets, and gave one to Henry. Rolling himself up in the second, he feigned slumber until he heard Henry’s soft snores.
    Peeping out from under his eyelids, he watched Henry