Alice and the Looking Glass (Clockwork Wonderland Book 1)

In Which Alice Wakes in a Strange Place

An unrelenting headache hammered into Alice's skull. She'd call it a hangover, except her last memory was of rotting away at a charity function, and she never drank at those. An accident, then?

Something tugged at the back of her mind. A vision of purple-black hair and golden eyes. A little tickle of warmth spread down her belly as she remembered the context. A very attractive young man, kissing her with wild abandon behind a giant oak. They giggled and pawed at each other like lovesick teenagers and it had felt glorious. How long since she'd last had sex? Over a year, at least. Ah, the perils of living at home.

Except, she wasn't at home now. Even before she opened her eyes and saw the decadent canopy of velvet overhead, she knew this wasn't her bed, or any other bed in her parent's house. The dusty rose colored fabric above her extended to form a curtain on each side of a four poster bed. Alice groaned and tried to sit up, a hand rubbing the back of her neck in a vain attempt to calm the pain. The shrill squeal of an old woman pierced through the heavy cloth as she did.

"Dum. Dum! She's awake."

Without warning, the curtains on one side of the bed parted, revealing the pinched face of an ancient but hale looking woman. Deep violet eyes peered out of sunken sockets and her china white hair was wound into a flawless bun, stretching her skin. Alice tried to speak, but squawked instead.

"Oh, no, no, no, dear. Don't try to speak. You mustn't try and speak. Jack warned us you might feel a little strange after the journey, so just relax. My sister will bring you some water."

Creaking wood announced the arrival of this "Dum" person. What a strange name, Alice thought. She couldn't see well enough around the clumped up curtains to get a clear view until the visitor strode all the way into the room. Dum looked like her sister, but her eyes were sea green and her hair was braided in a long tail that reached her mid back. On a silver tray sat a blue china plate loaded with fruit tarts, a fluted drinking glass, and a pitcher, whose designs matched the platter.

"Diana, don't call me that," she admonished, then turned to Alice. "I am sorry for my sister. My name is Daria, despite what she may tell you. She is Diana. Do not call her Dee, I beg you. It only encourages her." Daria affected a matronly look as she surveyed her sister and Alice while Diana sulked at the reprimand. "Jack said you would need water and mild food, so I took the liberty of putting together a small tray. I hope you enjoy fruit."

At that, she brought the tray to the bed and placed it on the side table, before shuffling away again. The smell that wafted from the tray Alice could only describe as "teatime."

The entire situation felt manufactured, saccharine, but her stomach twisted in desperation at the sight of the spread. When did she last eat? How long had she been unconscious?

Food could wait, she resolved. Alice needed answers before she needed tarts...though the tarts did look magnificent.

However, when she opened her mouth to speak, only another croak came out.

"Diana! I thought I told you make sure she didn't speak!" Daria hobbled back over, shaking a finger at her sister.

"I did, Du-Daria, I swear!" Diana started sulking again.

Enough was enough. They could argue about who said what all day. She was getting up, getting dressed, and leaving.

And yet...hints of butter, syrup, fresh strawberries, and cream assaulted her sense as she swung her legs to the edge of the bed. Yes, she had to leave, but why not at least eat something? Unless she'd woken up in a reenactment of Arsenic and Old Lace, the two biddies weren't going to poison her with a pastry.