AnyElsewhere. When CC fell into the pool of fears, the clothes disintegrated into puddles. Jeb must’ve painted them anew before he gave up his talent forever.
Maybe it was out of sentimentality, because his sister made the tux for him, or more likely because he wants to be wearing something familiar when we walk through the portal and back into his family’s life.
Still, even in clothes from the human realm, he looks miserable and out of his element as he waits for me to take the stairs. Standing there in the daylight, seeing the beautiful landscapes he created for this world, must be killing him. Giving up his muse has to be the most excruciating thing he’s ever done. He did it without hesitation, to help bring balance to Wonderland . . . to feed Sister Two’s restless souls with his artistic dreams.
I’m still not sure if he’s faced the full repercussions of that sacrifice yet. But I will be there to help him through it when he does.
As Morpheus and I ascend the lower quarter on our way to Jeb, we pass the netherlings who have come to see me off. A few of them are unexpected.
Hubert, beaded and polished like a Fabergé egg in an Easter display, reaches out a praying-mantis claw to shake Morpheus’s hand. “Couldn’t just make it easy for me to hate her,” the egg-man says to Morpheus as if I’m not standing there. “Little know-it-all queen. Not an ounce of manners or culture in that melon of hers. Yet she still managed to prove me wrong. Was so sure she’d end up in a casket. What a disappointment.” In spite of the vitriol at the tip of his tongue, his yolk-yellow eyes reflect a begrudging admiration. To my surprise, he offers me a lifetime supply of eggs Benedict at his illustrious magi-kind inn should I ever choose to visit.
Next, we greet the odd assortment of netherling stowaways who’d been trapped in the memory train three days earlier. They all bow and thank me for opening the rabbit hole so they could return home. My nose tickles on the verge of a sneeze as we pass the dust bunnies.
Bill the Lizard stops us at the midway point. He holds out the two simulacrum suits I’d asked Grenadine to return to him.
“I’m sorry I lost one . . . that I stole them to begin with,” I whisper, ashamed.
He shakes his reptilian head and his long tongue flickers out. “I am a subject of the Red Court. Ergo, they belong to you, Majesty. Your thieving craftiness pales only to your application of their magic. You will make better use of them than I ever would.”
Stunned, I place my hand atop my chest. Underneath my dress, the ruby key necklace that opens my kingdom presses back. “Really?”
Bill holds out the suits.
I look to Morpheus.
He smiles and nods, encouraging me to take the translucent fabric. I tuck it beneath my arm and thank the lizard, who bows low to let us by. Rabid is waiting for us on the next step—dressed in a red vest and matching trousers. He opens his arms to carry the suits for me. My perfect little gentleman advisor. I pat the soft skin between his antlers as we climb.
Elfin guards line the upper half of the steps on either side. They draw their swords and touch the tips overhead, forming a glistening silver archway.
Jeb waits at the end, jaw clenched as if it’s killing him not to run to me.
While Morpheus and I ascend the stairs beneath the swords’ shadows, I nod at Jeb in assurance. His whole body relaxes. The circles under his expressive green eyes attest to a lack of sleep. The twelve hours we’ve been apart had to be torture. As strong as he was when we said our good nights, it’s obvious he feared they might actually be good-byes. That I would decide to spend my future in the human realm alone without him.
I can’t be in the same world as him day after day and not have him in my life. We love each other. We both want the same things. We will share those dreams and grow old together. A mortal life is precious and short in comparison to forever. It should be lived, and never wasted. Something that Morpheus understands now in a way he never did; otherwise, he wouldn’t be letting me go without a fight.
My face feels numb, less from the cold than the agonizing,