Page 149 of Heartless

The Mock Turtle.

The Jabberwock and Jest and the Vorpal Sword.

It all started on the other side of the Looking Glass.

And the connection between them?

Hatta.

ThiswasHatta’s doing.

But Peter was the one who had captured Mary Ann. He was the one trying to keep a monster as a pet and feed it innocent lives.

‘I’ll kill you for what you’ve done to her!’ Peter shouted. ‘I’ll post your head on my gate!’

Cath’s fists tightened around the sword.

‘Stop this,’ said Jest, breathless. ‘Whatever Hatta’s involvement, it was a mistake. How was he to know what the seeds would do? And this . . . this creature is no longer your wife, Sir Peter. I’m sorry, but you have to see that.’

‘Isn’t she?’

It was Hatta arguing with him. Cath snarled, ‘Hatta!’

But he shrugged, his gaze scraping over the beast’s scaly dark skin, wide-veined wings. ‘Is the Mock Turtle no longer the Turtle? How can we know Lady Peter isn’t still inside the body of this beast?’

‘She’s been eating people!’ Cath screamed. ‘If she is still in there, she’s a murderer!’

‘You turned her into this,’ Peter said, swivelling his gaze back to her. ‘I destroyed those cursed pumpkins. She was getting better. But once she saw that cake she couldn’t stop eating it. And now she won’t change back. She’s my wife, and you did this to her!’

‘She’s a monster!’

The Jabberwock reared back on her hind legs and sent a piercing scream into the sky. Her claws returned to the ground with a thump that rattled through Cath’s teeth.

It happened fast.

The venom in the Jabberwock’s eyes.

The way she reared her head back like a poisonous snake.

The way she opened her enormous mouth and Cath saw the light glinting off row after row of teeth.

The way she dived for Hatta.

The Sisters’ voices were there, in Cath’s head.Murderer, martyr . . .

Hatta stumbled back –

Pudding and pie, he was going to die.

A scream was ripped from Cath’s throat and she charged forward, swinging the sword as hard as her arms would allow it.

The blade made one fast, clean cut. Easy as slicing through a pat of butter.

The Jabberwock’s head disconnected from her slithering neck. Her body crashed on to the rows of abandoned pumpkins. Her head dropped and thumped and rolled towards Hatta’s feet, who leaped back with a cry. Dark blood splattered across the ground, like ink from a broken quill.

The world paused.

The fog swirled around them.

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