Page 33 of Locked in Wonderland

“Hi,” I muttered.

A few murmured greetings followed, though most of the players barely glanced up from their cards, their concentration unnervingly intense.

“Warren White,” I said as the dealer placed two cards in front of me and Dahlia bid two chips on my behalf before I could protest. “That’s who I’m looking for.”

“Blond hair,” she mused, “blue eyes.”

“Yes!” A bubble of excitement rose in my chest. “He was kidnapped.” The man beside me snorted with laughter. I turned on him immediately. “You think kidnapping’s funny?”

Dahlia patted my shoulder soothingly. “Shush now. Let’s not get upset when we don’t need to. Bernard clearly thought you were joking.” Her smile sharpened slightly as she focused on him. “Apologize, Bernard.”

He lifted his gaze to mine, not looking sorry at all. “Sorry.”

“And now,” Dahlia continued pleasantly, “find yourself another table.”

Surprise flickered in his eyes. When Dahlia met his stare without blinking, he gathered his dwindling chips and stood. “Yes, Duchess.”

“There,” Dahlia said brightly once he’d gone. “No more unpleasantness. Go on with your story.”

“He was abducted,” I said. “And it led me here. You said you knew him?”

Instead of answering, Dahlia gestured at my cards. “You should pick one up.”

I did. The Jack of Hearts stared back at me.

“Oh, dear.” Dahlia gave a dramatic sigh. “Bad luck. You’ve lost..”

“Warren?” I prompted.

“Another hand first,” she said. “I’d hate for you to abandon me the moment you get what you want.“

When she put it like that, it sounded rather self-serving. There was no harm in playing along for a few more minutes.

At first, I assumed we were playing blackjack, but the rules shifted constantly. Numbers changed value between rounds. Certain cards suddenly meant entirely different things depending on arbitrary conditions no one explained. Every time I reached a point where I thought I had some basic understanding of the game, the logic twisted itself into something new. And somehow, every variation favored the house.

Whenever I tried to voice my concerns, Dahlia simply smiled sympathetically and told me these things took time to learn.

By the time she dragged me to the dice tables, nearly half my chips were already gone. The new game made even less sense. The substitution of some numbers for symbols complicated what should have been simple. The symbols substituted for numbers changed, just like the rules had in the previous game. There were moments I genuinely thought I was winning, only for someone to explain calmly why I had instead lost. The entire casino felt designed to keep outsiders permanently off balance.

Eventually Dahlia led me over to a wheel that bore more resemblance to a giant ornate clock than the roulette wheel I’d expected. I won back a handful of chips there, though I couldn’t have explained how even at gunpoint.

It didn’t last, and before long the bucket sat empty in my hands. Relief washed over me. No more having to pretend I understood these stupid games.

“Well,” Dahlia said lightly as we stepped away from the table, “you can’t win them all.”

“I guess not.” I waited, hoping she’d finally circle back to Warren now that I’d humored her for long enough.

It didn’t happen. “Warren White?” I prompted pointedly.

She nodded. “Let’s speak privately.” She unlocked a side door and guided me down a corridor into an office that looked considerably more functional than the one in the nightclub. Papers covered the desk in organized stacks, while a bank of surveillance monitors displayed live footage from the casino floor. No one sat watching them, which led me to believe that would probably have been Dahlia’s role had she not spent time with me instead. I automatically did a quick scan of the room for cameras. If there were any, they were better hidden than in the nightclub.

“I think,” Dahlia said thoughtfully once the door closed behind us, “I may have confused the man you’re looking for with someone else. After all, how would it make sense for me to know a kidnapped man from the mainland?”

“Because nothing here makes sense.”

Her lips twitched. “Everything here makes sense,” she corrected softly. “You simply haven’t learned how things work yet.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”