Page 48 of Wondrous

And then I suddenly stopped worrying about the mock dragon altogether, because the thinning branches gave way and I fell.

The ground rushed to greet me, wind tangling my hair and skirts. Yet before the scream in my throat could tear itself free, I landed with a whump on something soft and feathered. For a terrified moment I thought it was the mock dragon, but she had fur, not feathers, and she didn’t move as gracefully as the creature beneath me, which twined itself through the trees before making for the ground. I managed to grab a fistful of the feathers and wrap my other arm around something—the creature’s neck? My hair was in my eyes, and I could barely see.

Whump. The creature landed on the ground, and I tumbled off its back, disoriented but unhurt.

Stay there, said a painfully familiar voice inside my head. I’ll lead her into the forest and finish her off at a safe distance.

The creature darted away, the speed of the movement blowing the hair back from my face. Before he vanished into the shadows, I caught a glimpse of a wolfish head trailing long ears like wisps of storm clouds, and a sinuous, almost dragonlike body.

“Jack, wait!” I cried, fear clawing at my chest. He had become a jabberwock again! The enchantment had worn off—or Jack, as a sorcerer, had worked out how to cast it off. Joining the fear was a curious mix of emotions, bunched together in an impossible knot.

The mock dragon settled back onto the ground with an earthshaking thump, the wind from her wingbeats nearly blowing me over backward. With a rusty shriek, she followed Jack into the forest.

“Jack!” I shouted again, struggling to regain my footing. I was still dizzy. From the woods came the sound of branches snapping and trees crashing into one another. I heard a tremendous burbling and then an answering shriek from the mock dragon. The canopy above them shook, leaves raining down. I couldn’t see what was happening, only that it was ferocious.

Then there was a haunting birdlike cry—a cry I had heard before. It was the sound Jack had made when he’d fallen into my trap.

“Jack!” I screamed.

I finally managed to stand and raced to the campfire, falling onto my knees. Spots of pain erupted over my sight, but I shook them away and kept going.

The teapot was still in the grass by the embers of the campfire, but I couldn’t remember how much tea was left from last night. My hands shook so badly I dropped the teapot and cursed as most of the tea spilled over the grass. A little remained, though—was it enough?

I poured the tea into the more-dangerous teacup, cursing again as some sloshed over my hand. It wasn’t hot anymore—would it matter? I’d never served tea that wasn’t hot; warm tea was an abomination.

I let the tea leaves settle onto the bottom of the cup, then gave them a swirl. I contemplated downing the tea myself, but I only had time for one gambit, and I’d made up my mind about it.

I poured the tea from the more-dangerous teacup into the happy-memories teacup. It bubbled a little against the bottom, as if it were displeased by this unconventional tea service. It was meant to go from pot to cup to mouth, with no skipping around in between.

“Please,” I whispered, uncertain if I was talking to the tea or the teacup or myself. “Please let this work.”

I ran into the forest, following the path of destruction. I saw Jack first—he was a heap of shadows against a tree. Only one long cloudlike ear was visible in the dappled moonlight, and his tail was tangled up like rope. He wasn’t moving.

The mock dragon advanced on him, exhaling little puffs of fire. She had the unhurried pace of a diner approaching a buffet, unsure which delicacy to sample first.

“Excuse me,” I said, my voice one long warble. “Would you care for a cup of tea?”

The mock dragon started. I had a brief moment of pride at that, but then the creature rotated her head toward me, a growl in her throat. I didn’t have time to contemplate hurling the teacup at her, as I’d done with the other dragon. Because in the time it took me to draw one quarter of a breath, the mock dragon lunged toward me and snapped her jaws shut on my outstretched hand.

I screamed, and there was a wet crunch as the dragon bit down on the teacup. Somehow I’d managed to drag my hand out of the way of her teeth, but it was still in her mouth, sandwiched in the space between her teeth and her cheek. Before I could fully process the horror of this, the dragon swallowed, and my arm was sucked into the dragon’s mouth up to the elbow.

It felt exactly how you’d imagine, wet and fever-hot. I managed to wrench my arm free, shrieking incoherently, and fell backward onto the ground.

I scrambled away, heels churning up dirt, but the mock dragon didn’t follow me. She stood calmly in place, her gaze unfocused. Then, slowly, she began to smile.

I heard ragged breathing behind me, and Maria marched past and hurled her net over the monster’s head.

Chapter 24

“I still don’t understand,” Alex said, rubbing her forehead. “You subdued her with a memory?”

Morning had arrived at last, and the three of us stood in the forest, gazing at the mock dragon. She had slumped into a seated position, seemingly heedless of the net we had wrapped around her entire body, leaving only her tail free. We’d tied the knot loosely, but whenever she twitched, the stitches would tighten ever so slightly. She could try to flee, but she wouldn’t get far.

“Not just any memory,” I said. “A memory of one of the best days of her life. That’s how the teacup works—worked, I mean.”

I felt a wave of sadness that I’d lost yet another teacup. I knew it had been a necessary sacrifice, but still. I only had two left now—the wisdom teacup and the more-dangerous teacup.

This thought made me look around for Jack, scanning the woods in the hopes that he might be lurking there, trying to scare me again. Jack had disappeared sometime during the chaotic moments when we were tying the net around the mock dragon—by the time I’d hurried to his side, he was gone. And though I searched the nearby woods, there was no sign of a trail.