Ensnared

Morpheus leads me past the elfin knights and out of the glass castle into the evening air. I make a marked effort not to notice how debonair he looks in his white tailcoat suit and the black and red pin-striped vest underneath, or how high and proud his wings rise behind him.

Instead, I take in our surroundings. The sun and moon twist together in the purple sky. Their combined light coats everything with an ultraviolet hue. In the distance, past Ivory’s icy domain, plants of all kinds flourish in psychedelic colors—pink bushes, yellow flowers, orange trees, and rainbow ground cover.

I bask in the beauty of it all. Threading my fingers through Morpheus’s, I ask, “So, what did Gossamer say?”

He leans in to hear me over the scuffle of some fashionably late dust bu

“And how far are we pla

“Every part and parcel of your kingdom will be laid at your feet tonight,” Morpheus answers. “With so many of your subjects here at the castle, it is the perfect opportunity to take the tour. From the checkerboard deserts to the chaotic cliffs to the overgrown wilds. We shall make a few special stops along the way. I had Jebediah paint some scenes from the past as I remember them. The cave Alice was held in . . . birdcage and all. The cocoon from whence I was born anew. They’re part of the history we share. And now they’re preserved forever.”

I’m touched by the sentiment and move close enough to get a good look at his top hat in the moonlight. “You’re wearing your Seduction Hat. Why am I not surprised?”

He offers a pirate’s smile. “Did you notice . . . I’ve a new embellishment?” He makes a show of adjusting an owl’s tail feather in the band.

I bite back a giggle. “Vegetarian barn owl, I presume?”

“Won’t be bothering me again for some time.”

“I can guarantee it’s not the only one out there.”

He loops my arm through his. “Good. I’m always up for a worthy chase.”

I shake my head. “Which brings us back to the Seduction Hat.”

He smirks. “I’m wearing it because it matches your dress.”

“Sure,” I say, even though his top hat—one-half crimson and one-half white, with black moth garland and rosebuds at the brim—actually does match me, perfectly.

“It appears Gossamer found your parents.” Morpheus motions to one of the towers, where Mom and Dad are watching us leave. “Hope she told them not to wait up,” he quips.

My parents have made peace with Morpheus after he proved how much he cares for both my human and netherling sides, but they weren’t thrilled to learn of my vow. Then they saw Jeb’s example, how he’s trusting me to make my own choices. After that, they only wished me strength of mind and heart. I assured them I had both in spades because of their examples.

Morpheus helps me climb into the carriage. The compartment is big enough to accommodate his wings, and the seats are made of red velvet. Striking purple curtains hang across the window, and animated fluorescent swirls move along the walls. The interior is like Morpheus in every way . . . elegant and polished, yet at the same time jarring and mesmerizing. I settle into the seat opposite him, clutching my lace-clad hands around the rose he gave me. Hookah smoke hugs every breath. Two hurricane-style candelabras are mounted on either side of the window, filled with fireflies that cast an ultraviolet glow, bluing the paler shades of our clothes and Morpheus’s porcelain skin and lovely lips.

“So, where to first?” I ask. “Bear in mind, we only have twelve hours.”

He pulls the door shut and leans forward, elbows on knees. “About that. When I went back to my manor to prepare, I had some time to think about your vow. You deliberately left out the ‘after we defeated Red’ clause in your recollection. Which, technically, doesn’t quite encompass our hours in the looking-glass world, now does it?”

My arrogant bubble bursts. “Um . . .”

“Precisely,” Morpheus says, pulling white gloves into place on his hands. “However, to prove I can be every bit as conciliatory as your mortal prince, and to reward you for the effort of manipulating me, I’m going to let it slide. You shan’t be held accountable but for one night.”

“How gracious,” I grumble.

His jeweled markings sparkle, the color of orchids in spring. “It is, in fact. Considering that originally, before our tour of Wonderland, I was to take you dancing in the clouds and serenade you with the wind. Then dining on candied spiders and sipping dandelion wine, so we could appease your sadistic tendencies regarding flowers and bugs.”

I fake a pout. “Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

“Not in this lifetime. Perhaps in the next.” He pushes back the purple curtains, revealing a window big enough for us both to look through. “We’ll have to forgo the dancing. I packed a picnic and we’ll eat as we explore.”

We lift to the sky and I watch Wonderland’s majesty pass below.

I give in to my stomach’s rumblings and try a candied spider. It’s not too bad, other than that it wiggles going down and leaves a faint soapy aftertaste. Morpheus rewards my daring effort with moonbeam cookies and dandelion wine. The wine tickles my throat with effervescent bubbles, giving me the hiccups. Each time my mouth pops open, the carriage’s interior blinks from the moonbeams coating my tongue.

Morpheus laughs deliriously and I can’t help but join in.

Within four hours we’ve seen so much of Wonderland, my mind is spi

Our last stop before Morpheus’s manor is the flower garden outside the rabbit hole’s door. Most of the flowers are away at Ivory’s castle. Those that aren’t cower when they see me, having heard of my victory over Red and the slaughter of hundreds of prisoners in AnyElsewhere at my hand.

With Morpheus’s patient coaching, I embrace the chaos within and command the wraiths that live in the soil to reverse their damage to the rabbit hole. In a maelstrom of ear-shattering wails and black inky cyclones that whip through our clothes, they obey, putting everything back as it was in the begi

“What will the human realm think when they wake up to the change tomorrow?” I ask Morpheus as we board our carriage once more, my awareness heightened and my nerves still skittering. I’m half manic after joining forces with the wraiths. My skin feels hot and my face flushed.

“Perchance that some Good Samaritan came in the night and replaced the sundial,” Morpheus answers. “You were once like them . . . easily lulled to complacency.”

“That’s because believing you’re alone in the universe is less terrifying than admitting you might have an otherworldly audience.”