Wonderland by Gabrielle Danielle Burnett (free e novels .TXT) 📕

Chapter 1
Leto


My blood-red cloak billowed in the wind as I drew backwards my right arm, pulling the bowstring as far as I could, until the bow itself was curved in a perfect arch. I took unnecessary time to aim, for I relished in the moment of power before the arrow was shot and out of my control completely. When the arrow was aligned as exactly as I could possibly make it, within reason, I counted three loud, thudding heartbeats before letting go and watching the arrow fly away with a sharp twang. It flew straight and true, without wobble or worry, and embedded itself thickly in the trunk of the large tree I’d aimed at, one with plenty of previous scores to show it’d been well used as a target. My lips drew back in quite an unladylike grin, an involuntary expression.
“Honestly, girl,” A shameless voice called from somewhere to my left, “You grin like no proper lady of the queen’s court. A certain feline just might get into his head that you were mocking him.” I didn’t recognize the voice, for it was obviously not one of the gruff cardsmen of the palace, with their average, forgettable tones; rather, it possessed an accent that danced among high, singsong notes. I turned my head for a better view, and spied nothing other than pale trees (for this was the wooded part of the queen’s property, at the farthest of outskirts on the west side of the palace), and also, a few yards from where I was standing, the ten-foot hedge that surrounded the palace grounds on all sides except for the front, where there was a looming iron fence instead.
Tilting my head upwards, I saw the face of a boy, perhaps seventeen annuals old, grinning down at me with much the same expression I’d had before reflected by his masculine, if slight, facial features. His large, vibrant violet eyes, made bigger, it seemed, by the slimness of his overall form, twinkled with mischievous light. Light brown hair, almost blonde in shade, fell around his face in a thick mane. There was very little odd about his appearance, other than the two thick locks of hair that hung down farther than the rest, almost to his shoulders on either side of his head. Of course, their length wasn’t the weirdest part, rather, it was the coloration: they were both a bright pink.
“Who…are you?” I asked, dumbfounded at the boy’s sudden appearance. He was an outsider, a type of creature I’d never met; I met very little people other than the cardsmen and servants, but never had I met someone from outside the separating hedge that stood between me and his world.
“Careful,” He cautioned, a huge grin still on his young face. “Now you’re beginning to sound like The Caterpillar. Although I’ll answer your question, I think… perhaps.” There was a pause, as I waited for the boy to speak his name. He stared at me unabashedly.
“Well?” I asked finally, growing impatient with his seeming nonsense. I knew neither of the feline he referred to, nor who this “Caterpillar” was, and he still had not answered me about his identity. He cocked his head as if to question me, a playful look in his purple eyes, eyes that received an answering glower from me. “What’s your name?” My voice grew harsher; I was known for being quite short-tempered, at least among the cardsmen.
“What do you want to know? Come on now, make up your mind.” His eyebrows raised questioningly, “Is it my name you want to know, or who I am?” This creature, man or not, infuriated me. It’d been along time since I’d been this irritated; the cardsmen were used to my moods by now, and, being born and bred as servants, were naturally docile. Although, I couldn’t help but admit to myself that certain, perverse part of me enjoyed the playfulness and insanity that the cardsmen lacked, a madness that was anything but docile.
“Your name!” I chose the option that offered less room for misinterpretation, and let it explode from me like a breath taken after holding stale air within your lungs for some time. “Just tell me your name!” I repeated as emphasis, not trusting my first words to be enough.
He just stared at me, and then he disappeared.
Well, I say ‘disappeared’, but I could still see him. I doubted anyone else would have been able to though; he was skillful at what he did. The only reason I was able to catch view of his nimble, concealed movements was because I’d been doing the same thing since I was a child and had come to recognize the signs of such tricks.
I waited this time, for an answer, I mean. I was not dense, or dim-witted, or however else you’d care to say it; I’d long since figured out that it would do no good to rush him, and my frustration had mostly left me by now. I merely watched the boy hop down from the hedge gracefully, landing in a crouch, and stride over to where my arrow was embedded in the trunk of the tree.
He tugged on the shaft, careful, I noticed, of the feathers at the end. I also noted, a bit amused, that the arrow didn’t budge, not a bit. The boy gave another tug of the arrow, whose entire tip was sunken into the wood, but it was to no avail; the arrow simply wouldn’t budge. I couldn’t help but let out a burst of laughter at his puzzled expression, still somewhat playful in light of his confusion. I walked over to the tree.
“Let me help,” I told him, all previous irritation completely evaporated by now. Wrapping my left hand around the arrow, right above where the feathers were fastened, I yanked and felt the weapon slide easily from the trunk of the tree. The boy stared at me.
“What?” I asked, some of his confusion spreading over to me. His eyes seemed almost wider than before, and his grin all but gone. His eyebrows formed an inquisitive wave.
“You can see me? See me you can? You’re staring straight at me, so either a part is still there or you can see into here!” I had no clue what he was rambling on about now, except for the fact that I shouldn’t be able to see him. And, I had to admit, he probably was not used to it, if he pulled that stunt often around people. As far as I could tell, though I probably was not the best judge, most people could not see a person when they ‘disappeared’ like that.
“Yes, I can see you. Is that so impressive in your world? Can the outsiders not see you?” My retort was frank and gruff; I had no patience for deceptive speech. If people were going to converse with one another, why lie? I’ll save a few pages, though, and not go on about my list of morals.
“Never mind. I’ve you don’t know, I’ve said nothing. You hear? You’ve heard nothing from me.” There was a brief pause. “By the way. You asked my name and here it is: Chess. I’m Chess, the Cheshire Cat; known as such for my handsome grin.” What a mouthful! I thought a moment after processing his quick words. Then I connected it to something he’d previously said, and realized that he, himself, must be the feline he’d referred to earlier.
“Alright, I’ve heard nothing from you, Chess.” I agreed, deciding that he was just spitting out more nonsense. “My name is Leto, by the way.” I gave him my name since he’d given his, figuring this fair; I’d always been a decidedly fair person.
“Leto?” Chess asked me, seemingly confused. “Aren’t you Alice?” I inhaled, about to answer, when he interrupted, continuing in his hectic, quick speech. “You look like Alice. But, then again, Alice knew me. Oh, you, if you’re Alice, might have forgotten me. Maybe…it’s plausible. Slightly plausible, but plausible all the same.” At this point I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or to himself.
“I’m not Alice, though. I don’t even know an Alice. I’ve been here my whole life.” I explained, exasperated. The Cheshire Cat rambled nonstop, it seemed. And the horrible thing was that it was mostly repetitious nonsense. Well, the horrible thing could also be that I almost enjoyed hearing it; the cardsmen were never ridiculous, like Chess seemed to always be.
“Alright, be Alice, don’t be Alice. It’s all the same to me. I didn’t like her very much anyway; she didn’t like cats.” Again, as I was about to reply, he continued, “Well, so long, not-Alice. I really must be running. Ta ta!” He pulled his disappearing trick, which again, did not work, and ran. I followed, for a few moments, before having to stop at the hedge, which Chess so easily leapt over, in a single fluid movement.
Leaning my back up against the hedge that separated me from Chess’s world, I slid down, sitting on the dewy grass at the end of my figurative leash. I considered that thought momentarily…what leash was I really on? The only thing, I realized, that was stopping me from leaving was the thought that I’d never been outside the palace grounds before. No one, that I could recall, had ever even banned it!
So what has held you back all these years? I wondered. I wasn’t afraid of leaving; there was little I was afraid of. Yet I’d never left.
Perhaps it was because I’d never felt the urge to leave like I did now. Suddenly, the feeling of confinement came over me, and I knew it was because of Chess’s arrival. Had the Cheshire Cat not enlightened me to the mad world beyond that hedge, I doubt that I’d ever had felt an urge like this.
I knew it was childish and immature. I wasn’t sure what kind of game there was out there to hunt, or how to start a fire or any such survival skills that may become necessary. I’d been taught knife work and archery by the cardsmen, but that was as far as my skills went. Would it really be worth it to leave, just to shrug this air of imprisonment? To leave what I now saw as a jail, or holding cell?
The castle and its grounds had never seemed like this before; they’d always seemed friendly and familiar. But, though I knew how extreme it was, to be following what I was sure was an overbearing whim, I couldn’t help but shrug off this version of seeing things. I felt both ridiculous and confined.
Would it really be so bad if you simply left for a while, and then returned? I had to consider this. It really wasn’t such a huge decision, after all. Did it say anywhere, anywhere at all, that I couldn’t return after exploring the outside a bit?
It was still morning, early morning, too. No one would notice my absence until tonight, and I could probably slip during the hustle and bustle of dinnertime preparations. After all, I often traveled such routes as the one I had this morning, far from servants and cardsmen and higher-ranking castle staff, not to mention the fact that my skills with disappearing were well known. I’ve been gone for whole days before. Surely none would miss me?
As childish and young as I still was, I couldn’t help but see the perfect opportunity. Turning, I