‘That’s right,’ Jest mused, his voice turning low. He was no longer smiling as he stared ahead, watching Hatta pull further away from them. ‘Hatta was the messenger. I remember that now.’

Cath’s feet stalled beneath her. ‘And they drew a monster, like the Jabberwock? And a merry-go-round? Like the hat the Lion was wearing when . . .’

Jest fixed his gaze on her, filling with the same thoughts, the same horrors.

If they were prophecies, those two at least had come true.

The Sisters’ words spun through her head. Murderer, martyr, monarch, mad . . .

‘Do not go through a door!’ Hatta yelled back at them. He hadn’t slowed his pace and was fast disappearing into the maze’s shadows. ‘They gave us their warning, now we have only to heed it.’

Cath shuddered and traded a concerned look with Jest, but it was too late to turn back now, and nothing had changed, besides. They were still going to Chess, and every step brought them closer to it.

They hurried after Hatta before he could desert them, the lantern’s light skipping and swaying over the walls. Though there was nothing joyful about the maze, Hatta began to whistle, twirling his cane as if he were leading a marching band. The first turn was easy enough to find. A break in the hedges on their left. Hatta skipped and clicked his heels together as he turned beneath it.

Catherine, feeling no such glee, approached with more wariness. The hedges had grown together overhead, creating an arched doorway that looked as though it had been there for a thousand years.

‘How long will it take to pass through the maze?’ she asked.

‘Why?’ asked Hatta. ‘Are you late for an appointment?’

Jest frowned apologetically. ‘He’s insufferable when he gets like this, but never mind him. When we came through before, the walk lasted most of the night.’ He glanced down. ‘If your shoes begin to hurt, I can carry you.’

She shook her head, not wanting to be a burden on this journey. ‘I’ll be fine. I only want to get through as quickly as possible.’

Jest laced their fingers together and brought her hand to his mouth. The kiss was wistful, the touch a comfort – but his eyes were still shadowed when he looked up again, and she knew he was thinking of the drawings. His own headless apparition. The hooded figure standing over him, axe in hand. And her, the Queen of Hearts he’d once been sent to find.

She couldn’t shake the memory, no matter how she wanted to. She would be grateful when this journey was over.

‘Do tell me if you change your mind,’ he said. ‘After that spectacle at the well, I’m in the mood to be chivalrous.’

‘Are you?’ she said, forcing her tone to be light. ‘Perhaps we’ll have to find you a suit of armour.’ She reached up with her free hand and tugged on one of the points of Jest’s hat. The lack of a jingling bell caught her off guard. ‘Do you think there might be one in here?’

Jest laughed. ‘We’ll have to ask Hatta. He made it.’

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.