The shop erupted into chaos. The animals rushed out the door in a tight pack. Cath gripped her skirt and hardly realized she’d started running until there was soft ground under her feet. Ahead, she could see Haigha waving to them from the brush, coaxing them towards the entrance of the Crossroads.

A shriek rattled the meadow, followed by the beat of thunderous wings. Cath imagined the Jabberwock launching itself off the rooftop of the travelling shop and diving towards them from the sky, but she dared not look back.

The monster’s scream was met with the caw of a raven—no, two ravens – and a thrumming, rumbling roar from the Lion, and Hatta yelling something she couldn’t make out.

Cath was already out of breath, her legs shaking so hard she thought they would collapse before she reached the brush. But they didn’t. She bounded on to the pathway only a few steps behind the Bloodhound and felt an instant sense of safety from the tree cover.

Haigha stood beside a tree trunk, ushering them through the Crossroads doorway. The door was narrow, though, and after their rush from the hat shop, they had bottlenecked to a standstill.

The Squirrel and Goldfish disappeared into the shadows. The Boa Constrictor slithered through. The Bloodhound leaped across the threshold, carrying his charge to safety.

A whimper made Cath glance back.

The Turtle had frozen, not quite to the end of the clearing, and withdrawn all of his limbs into his shell. She could hear his sobs echoing from inside.

A shadow soared over him and the grasses bent back under the beat of the monster’s wings.

Cath shrank down into the shrubs, her heart throbbing, and dared to look up at the beast that had once haunted her nightmares. Talons long as butcher knives. Slithery, writhing neck. Burning embers in its eyes. The creature was made of inky shadows and fire and muscles trapped beneath taut, scaly skin.

Two birds were flocking around it, circling its head, trying to keep it distracted from the creatures below. Diving, clawing, then darting out of reach.

Raven . . . and Jest.

Hatta was standing on the far side of the clearing, his hat still perched on his cane and eyes wild. Whatever distraction he’d first offered, he’d been forgotten now.

‘Get up!’ the Lion yelled, pounding on the Turtle’s shell with his paw. ‘You’re almost there. You must keep moving!’

‘I’m . . . too . . . slow,’ the Turtle cried. ‘I’ll never . . . m-make it!’

‘You must try!’ said the Lion.

‘My lady!’

Cath glanced back. Haigha was waving to her from the doorway, his red eyes large with horror. Everyone else had gone through. ‘Come now, quick!’

She swallowed.

Overhead, the Jabberwock shrieked. It sounded hungry. It sounded ravenous.

It dropped down and perched again on the shop, which swayed on its rickety wheels. Even in the darkness Cath could see the destruction it had wracked upon the roof.

Something slipped over her eyes and Cath shoved it back. She’d forgotten about the chef’s hat, the one she’d chosen from Hatta’s wall. A hat for making unconventional decisions.

She took in a deep breath and searched the ground. She grabbed a long stick.

‘My lady!’ Haigha screamed again, but Cath ignored him as she launched herself out of the brush, charging towards the Lion and the Turtle.

The Jabberwock cried and Cath knew it had spotted her racing across the meadow.

‘No!’ Hatta yelled. ‘Over here!’

A bird cawed.

The Lion’s eyes widened in panic as Cath planted herself behind the Turtle. She angled the stick beneath his shell and jabbed him, hard.

The Turtle yelped in pain and bucked forward, scrabbling at the ground.

‘Move, move, move!’ Cath yelled, poking him again and again, urging him along to a chorus of whimpers and yelps. He reached the path. His flippers treaded against the brush.

‘Lady!’ Haigha screamed.

The scream of the Jabberwock shredded her ears. Heart in her throat, Cath spun around, gripping the stick like a sword, just in time to see the shadow of the beast soaring towards her.

Every limb tightened and she could see its neck outstretched and its fangs bared and its tongue lolling towards her –

A blur of orange flashed in her vision, mixed with a ferocious roar and a whinny of tiny horses. The Lion threw himself in front of Catherine, one massive paw lifted as if he would bat the Jabberwock out of the sky.

The monster screamed and pulled its head back, shifting so that its massive talons were extended towards them.

Cath heard the moment of impact. Flesh and bone and soft ground and a cry of pain and beating wings and a triumphant screech – and then the Jabberwock flew upward again. Its prey was caught in its claws, the tuft of the Lion’s tail dangling in the air behind it.

CHAPTER 21

CATH WAS STILL STARING after the Jabberwock, the stick clutched in her shaking hands, when a shadow of feathers and bells dropped from the sky. Jest grabbed her shoulders. His gloves carried the memory of soft quills before they were leather once more.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked, breathless.

‘N-no,’ she stammered. Her eyes were full of the horizon and the memory of the Lion’s body, all grace and muscle, so quickly taken. So easily defeated.

Hatta was there too, then, in the corner of her vision. ‘Come,’ he ordered, shoving the two of them towards the forest. ‘Let’s get to safety, in case the beast comes back.’

‘The Lion . . .’ Cath’s voice cracked with a sob.