Page 37 of Wondrous

The mock dragon looked relieved. “Could you at least tell me if the bottles are still intact?”

“Do you truly mean that you collect breezes?” I said. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” I thought for a second, then amended, “Actually, it probably isn’t the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I’ve heard so many ridiculous things during my time in Wonderland that it’s hard to rank them. But it’s certainly the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard during the last three or four days. Possibly even the entire week.”

Jack, meanwhile, had disappeared into the forest and reappeared with one of the glass bottles. He waved it in front of the mock dragon. “What’s this?”

“ ‘Summer forest,’ ” the mock dragon said immediately, though I could see no markings on the bottle, and it looked empty. “That’s my favorite—or it was, before I finally managed to capture ‘waterfall glade.’ Oh, and ‘alpine wildflower meadow.’ ”

Jack was examining the bottle, which was sealed with an oddly shaped cork that wrapped over the lip. “I suppose if I open this, the breeze will escape?”

“You can have a sniff,” the mock dragon offered, with a hint of pride. “Just give the cap a quarter turn—see the holes in the side?”

Jack twisted the cap and held his nose to the row of tiny holes that appeared. “Yes,” he said, “that’s a summer forest all right. It reminds me of—”

“Close the cap again, if you’re done,” the mock dragon said shrilly.

Jack rolled his eyes and gave the cap another quarter turn.

“I’m sorry,” the mock dragon said. “But if you leave it open for more than a minute or two, the breeze escapes entirely! And it took me ever so long to find the perfect forest and the perfect summer day.”

Jack handed me the bottle, and I twisted the cap. At first I didn’t smell anything, but then a little ripple of wind touched my nose, like a cat brushing its back against me. I felt as if I’d been transported to the woods by the park I’d played in as a child, where I’d first seen the White Rabbit, at the initial bloom of summer, when all the greenery was still drunk with dew.

I twisted the cap closed and eyed the mock dragon with new understanding. Yes, his was a ridiculous hobby—but ridiculous wasn’t the same as worthless or distasteful. Indeed, as I’d learned during my time in Wonderland, many ridiculous things were beautiful and inspiring, and thus could be just as important as what serious people spent their time thinking about.

“Is this why you came to Wonderland?” I said. “Why you left your own world behind? To add more breezes to your collection?”

The mock dragon dropped his gaze. “Partly…but I—You see, the problem is…” Abruptly, he burst out, “I hate my world!”

“Why?” I said.

“Because it’s a horrible place. That’s not an opinion—spend five seconds there, and you’ll understand. It’s called Briarland, and it’s always dark, and filled with monsters—not like me, oh no. Far worse than me. Hardly anything green grows there that isn’t thorned or carnivorous, and it has only two seasons—winter and almost-winter. In order to survive, you have to make yourself as terrifying as possible—and I don’t much like being terrifying.”

“You’re quite good at it, though,” I said, recalling his rampage through the clearing.

“Yes,” the mock dragon said regretfully. “I’ve had to work at it. But really, I’d much rather be gathering breezes than menacing villagers. This is such a lovely world, with such a great variety of people and landscapes. But my world—” He shook his head, a tear drifting down his feathered cheek. “I don’t belong there.”

I grimaced. I hadn’t expected to feel any sympathy for the mock dragon—it was proving very inconvenient.

“That’s unfortunate,” I said. “But I’m afraid you have to go back. Your flame is too strong for Wonderland—surely you’ve noticed you’ve been burning holes in the place. If you keep it up, Wonderland will be no more.”

The mock dragon seemed as if he might cry again. “I didn’t mean to, truly. But a dragon has to eat! And this world has so many delightful creatures just wandering around—it would make anybody hungry. Particularly knights—I’m very fond of knights. That armor they wear is wonderfully convenient—it’s as if they’re all strolling about in baking foil.”

I made an inarticulate sound of disgust.

“You could just eat two-handers without cooking them first,” Jack said in a reasonable tone.

“Oh, Jack,” I said, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

“What?” Jack seemed to think it over, then gave me an apologetic look. “I meant to say, you could just eat people without cooking them first.”

“I don’t really like raw food,” the mock dragon said, wrinkling his alligator-like snout.

“You just haven’t developed a taste for it,” came a familiar voice from behind us.

The Cheshire Cat slunk out of the shadows. I gave a cry of relief and nearly reached down to rub his head, as I would have with Dinah.

“Oh, Cat!” I exclaimed. “I’m so glad you followed me here—I’m sure you have some advice for us.”

Jack recoiled at the sight of the Cat, and for a second, he appeared to consider stepping behind me as if I were a shield.