Riddle of Hearts: A retelling of Alice in Wonderland by Grymm Rosie

Author:Grymm, Rosie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-11-10T00:00:00+00:00

INTERLUDE

BEWARE

Magic shook the ground, rattling windows and nearly knocking her off her feet. The vial shattered in her hands, but she didn’t notice the stab of broken crystal. Cracks formed in the dirt streets of the village, splitting garden sheds and barns with the sound of thunder. Houses and shops alike collapsed in on themselves as their foundations gave out and people ran, fleeing toward the Woods as another shockwave lashed out from the center of town.

The final wish had been used; the Jabberwocky’s body writhed and pulsed and glowed as it crumbled from existence, yet the magic rumbled with displeasure. All that was green withered to brown; grass and crops, the orchard trees on the hills and mother’s red roses had the life sucked from them just as the monster bled out from its wounds.

A red haze crawled beneath the carnage, magic from deep beneath the ground that carried a single-minded intent: punishment, corruption, Madness.

But she didn’t notice any of it, didn’t search the chaos for the boy or try to help any of the villagers streaming past her reach safety because there was her sister climbing out of a crater at the center of town. Dirty and scratched and holding the prince’s hand with a triumphant smile on her lips, made red by a bit of blood. Her sister’s gleaming eyes found her and narrowed as her grin stretched wider and wider.

“This will change everything, Alice,” she had whispered in the predawn of a day that felt ages ago now. “Let me have the wish and we can finally be free.”

She had done it; they were safe. Not just from the Jabberwocky, but from the fear of not enough food in the garden, of the sneers and condescending whispers of village people who didn’t care if the three sisters at the edge of town starved or not. Wearing clothes too patched up to be warm in winter and being left with the seconds everywhere they went. Most of all she had wanted to be free of the desperation which weighed in the eyes of both her sisters. And now, she had done it.

At what cost? his voice whispered in her ear. Nothing will ever grow here again.

She turned to search for her eldest sister and saw that their cottage was gone; a jagged, ugly scar of broken earth where it once stood. Pain burned through her hand, and she stared down at the blood that flowed from her cut palm, dripping from her fingers onto the bone white roses that clung to the small section of fence which remained. An unexpected sorrow welled up inside her and spilled down her cheeks.

Tears are the strongest sort of Wish.

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