35. Tempi

CHAPTER 35

TEMPI

I can feel the gold flowing through my veins, like small specks of glitter tracing me from the inside out. Everything inside of me feels foreign and yet familiar. My skin is my skin, except where it only glittered before like I'd gotten into mica powder, it now shines brightly. My hair is the same, now golden black. Pieces of gold still fall from my skin in places, as if it were only a shell.

I'd felt my heart stop. I'd felt death, and then I didn't.

I don't understand. What does this mean? What exactly happened?

Why did I survive Midas' curse?

Midas freezes when the sound of the gun clicks and despite being desperate for answers, I focus on the woman holding the gun. She's beautiful, probably a little younger than me, and powerful. Whatever power hovers in her veins, it's strong. She stands with her legs spread as she braces herself for the massive gun she carries. She's wearing a bright yellow tailcoat, leather pants, and knee-high combat boots. I've never seen someone so perfectly put together before. Around her are others holding weapons, all pointed at us. I never heard any of them come up. Then again, I hadn't heard anything besides the ringing for a long while.

"Don't move. Explain who you are. And I suggest you do it fast," she tells Midas.

When neither one of us says anything at first, she narrows her eyes. "What is your business in Wonderland?"

Wonderland? Holy fuck. The Wonderland?

I hold up my hands slowly and Midas glances over at me in confusion. "We come in peace," I tell the woman, not sure what exactly I'm supposed to say.

The woman sighs at my words and immediately drops her gun. She gestures for the others to do the same. "Oh, good. You're from Earth," she says. "We weren't sure which world you came from."

I blink. "Well, yeah. I am, but not this guy," I say, jerking my thumb toward Midas.

The woman meets Midas' eyes. "And do you mean any harm here?"

"Not if trouble isn't provoked," Midas says carefully.

I scowl at him and smack at his arm. "He means no harm," I tell the woman. "Promise."

The woman looks between us, studying all the gold Midas wears and the golden sheen of my skin. She seems confused.

"I heard screaming," she says.

I wince and glance at Midas. "I can explain that if you let me."

The woman studies me, and part of me feels split open like a frog in science class. She's very observant, but it's more than that. Her power seems almost. . . deeply personal, like she can see so far inside me, there are things she'll know that I never will.

"Your magic is very unique," she murmurs after a moment. "I've never seen something painted the way you are."

"I. . . didn't think I had any magic before," I admit.

She tilts her head. "But you do now?" When I gesture to my body, she nods. "Many of us don't know the magic we carry inside us until we leave our world. You're not the only one." She shrugs. "I was a lawyer back on Earth. Oh, I'm Clara by the way."

"And what are you now, Clara?" I ask, watching her. "What are you here?"

She doesn't flinch. She watches me with careful eyes. "Here, I'm the Empress of Wonderland." She gestures toward a small, adorable house I never saw until now. "You two look like you could use some tea."

"Please tell me there's coffee instead," I wheeze, longing for a good cup after the days—weeks? —I've had.

Clara smiles. "I can arrange some. Come inside. Let's get you two comfortable while you're here."

I move to follow, but stumble to a stop when a guttural angry scream rips through the air. I look over my shoulder and blink in surprise at the large wall of water there. About a hundred yards from us, a man shouts at the wall and something large moves inside it.

"Who's that?" I ask.

Clara looks at him sadly, but there's deep, unhindered love behind that sadness. "That's my Hatter. He'll be in shortly to join us. He just has to finish entertaining the madness for a few moments more."

When we step inside the house, I'm surprised to find it larger than I expect. It only looked like a small one-bedroom house on the outside. Inside, there's a staircase leading up and away and a massive entryway. Doors line all of the walls, and when Clara leads us toward the double ones to the left, both Midas and I follow. He hasn't said anything, his eyes flickering between taking in everything and hovering over me. At some point, he picked up his crown and he'd cleaned his face off, but the evidence is there in the red splotches.

He'd cried for me. He'd told me he loved me. I'd turned into a golden statue and now I'm just golden. We have so much to talk about, but we can't yet. Not until we're alone.

Inside the room is a long table made up of many smaller tables. The chairs are mismatched and some of them aren't even chairs at all. Lots of people sit at the table and when we step inside, they all nod respectfully to Clara and then stare at me in surprise. I'm immediately self-conscious and start to rub at my skin.

Clara leads us to the very end where two large throne-like chairs sit. She takes a seat in one and then gestures for the two of us to sit beside her along the edge of the table.

"Now," she says, leaning forward on her hands. "Tell me exactly what happened out there."

I hesitate and glance at Midas. "I don't exactly know. Midas?"

Clara straightens. "Midas? As in King Midas? As in the golden touch?"

Midas' expression tightens. "Yes."

"Interesting," Clara murmurs, looking back at me. "You were turned to gold."

"On accident, yes," I say. "We were. . . it's a really long story. But the Spark Notes version is that the magic portals are attracted to me for some reason and Midas got caught up in it. We've been thrown from world to world for. . . I don't know how long now. We were being attacked by evil Winnie the Pooh in the last one and I got caught in the middle of the fight. Midas' hand must have touched me at some point and. . . well, aquí estamos ."

She tilts her head. "Yes, your magic does feel a little bit like the merges feel. How strange. Do people usually just turn golden like her?" She directs her new question to Midas.

He shakes his head. "No. They usually turn solid gold and remain so. They always die. Until now. . ."

Clara's expression softens. "You poor thing. I can only imagine how you felt then. Your screams make sense now." She shakes her head. "Well, you're safe here. We can help you find answers, but I'm afraid we're at our wit's end."

A small toddler comes waddling into the room followed by a whole herd of cooing people. "Mama!" he cries happily.

Clara smiles and reaches out her arms for him. "My son, Zaven," she offers as explanation. "And the rest of Wonderland and some of Neverland. I'll let them handle their introductions."

She scoops Zaven into her arms and smiles brightly. A zap of power explodes out of Zaven at his happiness and tingles my skin.

"Sorry," she says. "He's learning to control his powers. New ones keep popping up and. . . it's just one of the many problems we're currently facing. You saw the giant wall of water outside. That's not even a drop in the ocean of what we've been fighting."

The doors fly open again and the man from outside comes storming in. "Clara Bee, Clara Bee! I'll get that monster, you just wait and see!" he declares.

Clara smiles, but her expression is a little tighter. "Hatter. Come say hello to our new friends."

He skips over to us, the top hat on his head telling us who he is even if Clara hadn't already told us. The Mad Hatter isn't what I expected, but the madness I expect is there in his eyes.

"Pardon me, madam. Do you realize you're made of gold?" he asks me. "Gold, old. Old gold. Spaghetti!"

I jerk at the shout and flick my eyes to Clara and her tense smile. "I do."

"Very well. Very well." He reaches toward Zaven. "My boy!" Zaven's power zaps him and Hatter screeches in excitement. "My little warrior."

We spend the next thirty minutes meeting everyone. Luckily, I do so with a cup of really good coffee in my hands. Midas says barely any words as we go through the motions, and I'm forced to carry the conversation. Eventually, Clara seems to realize the tension between us because she waves everyone away.

"You're probably exhausted. There's a room at the top of the stairs you can use. Please, make yourself at home," she tells me.

"How do we know which door?" I ask.

"The doors will tell you. Just follow your heart," she offers vaguely.

And then she turns away to focus on Zaven.

I glance up at Midas before offering my hand. He stares at it for a long moment. "I shouldn't touch you," he whispers.

"We're long past that, don't you think?" I ask.

He winces before carefully laying his gloved hand in mine. "Okay," he breaths.

"Okay," I repeat, and lead him out of the room, up the stairs, and where my soul calls for me to go.