Page 72 of Escaping Wonderland

Yes. The answerhadto be yes, because that meant there was a chance, that meant he could still save her. If there was no hope in this world, he would find it in another. He wouldtakeit.

“Wake up, wakeup,” he muttered as he carefully gathered Alice close.

She grasped his coat again; her grip was noticeably weaker than before.

Shadow stilled. He knew, suddenly, where he had to go, even if he was still uncertain of what he had to do. He couldn’t wake up from Wonderland until he stoppeddreaming.

Shadow squeezed his eyes shut and envisioned…himself.

The air around him wavered and cooled. Mist settled on his skin, and the uneasy silence of the dance hall was replaced by the gentle creaking of old, tired trees and the muted sound of water lapping lazily against land. His back tingled, thrumming with the energy of the presence behind him. Shadow tightened his hold on Alice and opened his eyes.

The ground was damp, covered in a layer of rotting leaves. Alice looked even paler here, and the misty air gave her skin a sickly, grayish pallor—she looked close to death.

Shewasclose to death.

Shadow settled Alice on the ground and removed his coat, vest, and shirt. “This is not a place foryouto sleep, Alice. Stay with me.”

Though he’d somehow kept his voice steady, the turmoil in his mind had only intensified. His heart pounded, the sound so pervasive in his head that it might’ve been the heartbeat of the entire swamp—the heartbeat of Wonderland itself.

Not real. No. No! She’s fine, because this isn’t real. I’ll kill the king, save Alice, and the only thing that’s real is her, isus.

His hands trembled as he used his clothing—tearing the fabric as necessary—to bind her wounds. She grunted and groaned despite his care, pressing her nails into his forearm. His already broken heart crumbled further at the knowledge that he was causing her more pain, but he took a modicum of comfort in her grasp—it meant she still had fight left.

Alice opened her eyes and met his gaze. Despite the sheen in her eyes, despite the haze of pain that must undoubtedly havesettled over her mind, there remained a piercing lucidity there. “Go, Shadow. Leave me.”

“No,” he begged, even though he knew hehadto go. “I can’t leave you alone. This isn’t real. We’re real, but this isn’t. You’re fine, you’re?—”

She pressed her trembling fingertips over his lips, silencing him. Her skin was cool and clammy. “You need to leave me. Wake up. Wake up and…and come find me. Find me beyond.”

The presence behind Shadow seemed to intensify, and the tingling along his spine became a crackling heat that made his skin itch. He licked his lips with his dry, scratchy tongue and stood. After unclasping his knife belt, he tossed it aside and hurriedly tugged off his pants. He folded them, knelt, and slipped them under Alice’s head. Her eyelids fluttered shut.

Not real. Not real… She’s fine.

No, she’s not. She’s not fine, and the king is coming for me. Wake up!

Shadow pulled one of the remaining knives from its sheath on the discarded belt. He spread and curled his fingers, adjusting his grip on the weapon, as he rose. His mind—more outside his control than ever before—whispered a thousand what-ifs.

What if he was too late? What if Alice couldn’t hold on? What if he couldn’t wake up?

What if thiswasreal?

“No,” he growled. He reversed his hold on the knife, cupping one hand over the butt of its grip, and positioned the tip against his chest, just beneath his ribcage.

She’s not going to die. I willnotlose her.

The sensation on his back strengthened to the point of pain, pulsing along his spine in fiery lashes. He’d always avoided this place after he’d first discovered what currently awaited behind him. Perhaps, even back then, part of him had recognized thatthis swamp was a hint that Wonderland wasn’t right—that it wasn’t real.

Shadow plunged the blade under his ribs and forced it upward as he spun around.

The pain came only when he looked at the face of the sleeper who’d been behind him—his own face. Piercing agony set his chest ablaze. His knees wobbled, and his arms trembled, and his lungs were desperate for air, but he could not draw breath. He closed his eyes.

The entire world lurched, and the weight of Shadow’s body rapidly increased, making him feel as though he were about to sink into the ground and be swallowed by Wonderland forever.

Not real, not real, not real…

“Not real.”

The sound of his own voice startled Shadow. He opened his eyes to find himself face-to-face with hisother, with his…ghost. His shadow. The ghost had blood smeared over his lips—Alice’s blood—and his hands were clasped over the grip of the knife jutting from his chest.

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