I inhaled deeply again; this time it smelled like flowers... lilies or perhaps carnations? It feels as if I inhaled all the oxygen that is produced in a flower garden for a year. I feel like it's my first breath.

  "That's how guilt is, it's suffocating dear." An image I regularly push down flashes across the surface of my mind. The fae rested her head in the palm of her hand, as if this wasn't some big revelation. Her eyes were closed shut from what looked like exhaustion. What she said sounded like it was from experience, but it came with no sympathy. So do they feel guilty for me? Well, I almost died- they should feel bad! The air tightened around the table. The fae peaked her eyes open, looking at me as if she heard what I was thinking.

  “The Tower doesn’t fall because someone pushes it,” she says, eyes shifting to her cup then to Cheshire. “It falls when you lean too hard on a truth you refuse to carry.” A truth huh? Didn’t Cheshire just say something like that, was she even here when he said it?

  “Now now, we mustn't confuse the poor creature,” Cheshire cleared his throat as he slowly floated down to the floor in his chair. “It is your pleasure to meet me, I’m sure! You’re not the only you wandering these woods, we must be certain which one you are at present.” None of this is making sense; it's as if he's talking in a language I don't understand. There's only one me. "Now this dazzling creature next to me is-" he made a big sweeping motion with his arm as he stayed sitting; Hatter's hat was in his hands. "Hatter dear, don't be rude." Hatter had finally tossed the gun on the table and had gotten down to the ground where he was looking after the rabbits. His back was turned to us; he let Frankie back to Houdini's side and faced us. He went to grab his hat and realized that Cheshire was in current custody of it. Hatter growled. "Hmm," Cheshire shrugged and tossed the hat to him in a surprisingly gentle manner.

  "You didn't actually tell her your name wise ass," Hatter brushed off the top hat that was currently fashioned. "I believe she has earned it, right? You never liked going first though, did you?" Hatter adjusted the cap on his head, the fabric flickering through a dozen shapes before settling into his worn and familiar Irish cap. For a heartbeat, he didn’t look at me — he looked at the ground.

  "My name is," the teacups clashed loudly on the table. My hearing went silent for a moment with a loud ringing sensation; my blood pressure must be through the roof! "You know she can't hear it yet!" I shook my head again. I realize Hatter is talking loudly and he is quite mad. "Don't play games and just say it-" Hatter hit the table hard.

  Cheshire's giant smile had returned, I feel like I'm left out on a joke. The chair scraped back from the table and spun once — twice — before settling on its back legs. He rose onto it like a stage, arms flung wide toward an audience only he could see.

  "The name is Evander," Cheshire bowed too deeply, wobbling on the edge of collapse, and laughed like he couldn’t tell whether it thrilled or terrified him. “Ah, I love this part,” he said breathlessly. “The little tilt in the world, the bit where the truth starts to remember its own shape—” his grin wavered, then sharpened. “And you,” he said, looking straight at me, “have walked far enough to earn the version of me that matters.” He snapped upright, heel striking the table hard and making everyone jump; him snickering at everyone's surprise. The forest felt a strong breeze come through that sounds like a wind on a cool October night, terrifying with possibilities. Suddenly he sat down, took a cup of coffee in hand, and started pouring nonstop sugar into his cup. The cup never overflowed though. Hatter started picking up dishes and throwing them at Evander.

  “Enjoy the celebration while you can,” Evander roared, delighted. “FEAST.” The booming voice echoed down across the long stretch of table- like glass tapping against glass. Even small birds flew from the forest in the distance. Evander snapped his fingers suddenly, and the dishes and mess all disappeared. He snapped again and everyone's plates were full of fresh food and beverages. Hatter went to start again, but the Seer raised her hand to stop him. He complied and sat back down next to me. He must trust her to stop cold like that; you could tell Hatter was seething. He ripped off the turkey leg and started eating it angrily towards Evander.

  "Did I... really almost just die?" I ask while looking at the table. Why is no one acting like that matters, I mean I count...don't I? I feel the white-hot burning starts to bloom across my face, tears stinging to be let free. I feel the softest warm hand on my arm patting me; the fae on the right of me is looking at me somewhat tenderly. Like she's upset for me even asking.

  “You didn’t almost die today,” she says softly. “You almost remembered being reborn. Why you could say it's your unbirthday!” The faes wings burst open and shook themselves like they were aching from being closed for a long time. A shimmer of small lightening bugs burst from her wings like glitter out of a pinata; they lazily flew about. "Your kind has always been strong of heart, don't worry about what the future holds- for now is a present." Fae grabbed her tea and drank the rest of it. She smiled brightly at me and then she tightly closed her wings to her side, almost out of instinct. She had a serious look on her face trying to choose which dessert she was going to eat; she looked almost giddy like a small child.

  “Strong of heart, huh? How’s that working out for you?” Evander grinned widely at Katrina and laughed heartily, but it sounded very hollow; the sound of someone pretending a wound was a joke. Both Hatter and the fae stopped mid movement and stared at him. He stopped by clearing his throat and went back to sipping his coffee. He straightened, and the moment passed; though he was grinning like none of it had happened. "Yes, eat to our heart's desire; for soon the world will be on fire. Eh, Seer?" Evander ripped the other leg off the turkey in a motion so fast it was almost a blur out of time. He stared at Hatter with unblinking eyes, taunting him. The Seer had closed her eyes and was crossed legged, floating a few inches above her chair.

  No one spoke of poison or of what almost happened. Plates shifted and cups refilled. Silver chimed like a warning no one was willing to hear aloud. I opened my mouth to protest, but the Seer’s hand lifted- not to silence me, but to hold the moment in place. “Eat,” she said quietly, without opening her eyes. “There will be questions, later.” Everyone resumed and started grabbing different foods with fervor, like they had been starving for ages.

  Later?

  The word felt heavier than the coffee in my hands.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.