Page 139 of Heartless

Cath looked ahead. Hatta was barely in the circle of their lantern’s glow, still whistling, though she suspected he could hear every word they said. Maybe he was trying to ignore them, though.

‘And what does it do? All of his hats do something, don’t they?’

Jest’s fingers tightened around hers. ‘I hope you won’t be disappointed if I tell you that the hat is what makes me so impossible.’

She raised an eyebrow at him, thinking of the way he kissed her, and the way he made her laugh, and how he had battled the Jabberwock to protect her. She smirked. ‘Perhaps that was the intention, but I can’t believe that it’s true.’

He twisted his mouth to one side and nodded sullenly. ‘You’re right. I suspect it’s actually just a glorified storage closet.’

After the dreary, dramatic evening they’d had, the joke was so unsuspected that Cath snorted in laughter before she could stop it. Up ahead, Hatta stopped whistling and glanced back at her in surprise.

Cath covered her mouth to stifle the laughter that followed and elbowed Jest hard in the side. He grunted, but only gripped her hand tighter.

‘I mean it,’ he said. ‘You found the Vorpal Sword in there, after all. It wouldn’t surprise me if there was a suit of armour.’

She cast him a playful glare. ‘That isn’t what I meant. I assure you it isn’t the hat that makes you impossible, Sir Jest.’

His eyes twinkled at her and their brightness was welcome after the haunted expression he’d had in the Sisters’ meadow. Up ahead, Hatta started to whistle again, louder this time.

Jest ducked his head closer to Cath so she could hear him when he whispered, ‘I cannot tell you how I look forward to a lifetime at your side, and all the impossible things I’ll have you believing in.’

Cath’s heart was beginning to patter when a disgruntled sound came from Jest’s other side, startling her. She’d forgotten Raven was there.

‘Such happiness I hope you’ll make, but these flirtations I cannot take. I wish for you all the joy this darkened world can employ, but you’re still giving me a stomachache.’ With a squawk, Raven tossed himself into the air and went to join Hatta instead.

Cath’s cheeks flamed, but Jest only chuckled. ‘It’s difficult to interpret him sometimes,’ he said, ‘but I think what Raven means to say is that he likes you.’

They continued on, the lantern’s ring flickering against the hedge branches. The glen’s reddish glow had faded long ago, leaving them to make their way through the middle of the night. Jest’s fingers, strong and lithe, stayed entwined with hers. Raven made himself comfortable atop Hatta’s top hat, though Cath wondered why he didn’t fly up above and look on ahead. He would have made an excellent guide, she thought.

But maybe not. Maybe there weren’t enough words that rhymed withrightandleftfor him to direct them all the way through to the end.

Besides, Hatta believed he knew the way, and he showed so little hesitation Cath had to believe him.

One hour became two, then three, then four. Cath couldn’t imagine how anyone could have traversed this maze and remembered the way, but Hatta never seemed in doubt. Left and left and right and left again. Every straightaway looked exactly like the others, and though she looked for landmarks – an extra cluster of flowers here or a branch that stuck out there – there was nothing. She soon became convinced they were going in circles.

The night dragged on and grew cold. Cath pressed herself against Jest, seeking his warmth through the lining of Hatta’s jacket. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, rubbing the wool sleeve to ward off her shivering.

She stumbled more than once. Her toes were cold as ice inside her boots. Her feet began to ache. She felt a blister forming on her left big toe from the rub of stockings and dress shoes.

Hatta’s pace never slackened.

Her eyelids grew heavy and she wondered if she could fall asleep while walking. Or perhaps she was already asleep and this was another dream and she would wake up to find that the mansion at Rock Turtle Cove had been overgrown with laurel.

As their meanderings dragged on and began to seem endless, Jest tried to distract Cath with banter and jokes, flirtations and riddles. She did her best to be amused, and his attempts warmed her from the inside out, especially as his own weariness was showing around the edges of his composure.

At some point, even Hatta stopped whistling. Raven, it seemed, had fallen asleep on his hat.

Cath’s adrenalin had fled. Her body dragged forward, step by stumbling step. She grew thirsty and her stomach rumbled. The night must be near its end, she thought, but the world remained pitch-black beyond the halo of the lantern.

Then, unexpectedly, something new.

Jest halted first and she drew to a stop beside him.

They stood together on a set of moss-covered steps that dropped down into a little glen. A glen full of wildflowers and the sudden golden glow of twilight.

In the centre of the glen was a well, smelling of sweet, sticky treacle.

Hatta firmed his shoulders and inhaled a long breath. ‘Welcome to the beginning of the maze.’

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