Page 47 of Locked in Wonderland

“Must I?”

Harlan nodded. “Oh, yes. Especially if you have nothing to tell us.”

It didn’t make a great deal of sense, but the expectant looks on both their faces made resistance seem futile, and they had been polite enough to let me join them. I brought the cup to my lips. While it didn’t taste like any tea I’d ever drunk before, it was surprisingly refreshing. Refreshing enough that I drained the entire cup.

Marcus nodded approvingly and refilled my cup. I was halfway through that one when I realized neither man had touched their own. “What about you?” I asked. “Aren’t you drinking?”

“Oh no,” Harlan said. “I never touch the stuff.”

“Me neither,” Marcus agreed.

I put the cup down, alarm bells ringing. It was just tea, right? Before I could ask, an actual bell rang, the coincidence making me want to laugh.

“Grab on!” Harlan shouted with unrestrained glee. “We’re moving!”

A grinding noise came from below as some hidden mechanism sprang to life. The section of floor beneath us shifted, carrying our table smoothly to the right. The sudden movement had me grabbing the edge of the table to avoid being pitched onto the floor.

Dorian Moss didn’t fare so well. His chair moved away without him, leaving him to slide gracelessly onto the floor. He lay there for a moment before gingerly rising to his feet. Harlan and Marcus watched with obvious amusement.

“Every single time,” Marcus said.

The table eventually came to a halt. Dorian lumbered over, retook his seat, and immediately closed his eyes again.

“This is Lysander,” Harlan informed him.

Dorian grunted but didn’t bother opening his eyes. At least we’d finally established that he wasn’t dead.

“What was the point of the table moving?” I asked.

Harlan waved a hand vaguely in front of him. “How else would we get a different viewpoint?”

“By turning around.”

They both laughed as though I’d said something utterly absurd. I was beginning to regret having accepted Harlan’s invitation. Surely there was someone in this place who spoke more sense than they did.

As if to prove my point, Harlan sat up straighter. “Tell us what you know, Lysander.”

I took a deep breath. “We already did this, and I told you I know nothing.”

Marcus leaned forward. “Then tell us everything that’s happened to you since arriving in Wonderland. Dorian loves a story, don’t you, Dorian?”

Dorian managed another grunt without opening his eyes.

For reasons I couldn’t even explain, I did exactly that. Well, a heavily edited version, anyway. I left out the sex parts.

“So you see,” I finished. “I’ve had no luck finding Warren. People either don’t know him, pretend they know him only to later admit they don’t, or they are just too—”

I really wanted to say mad.

“―self-absorbed to even care.”

“When is a crow not a crow?” Harlan asked, smiling.

I blinked. “What?” The question was obviously about my tattoo, but beyond that it had no relevance to anything.

“It’s a simple question.”

“It’s not. A simple question would make sense. That doesn’t.”