Page 46 of Madness Becomes Her
Opening the lid, Fin drops me inside.
I hit cushions in the base of it and bounce, a grin on my lips that he thought of everything.
There isn’t a larger dress inside like Ariadne thought there would be, but the space is limited. I realize that Prospero will just have to avert his eyes if he’s offended by my nudity.
“Good luck, Tiger Lily,” Finlo whispers before closing the lid and shrouding me in darkness.
I peer out of one of the ceramic holes as Ariadne greets Penelope and hands my teapot over to her.
I fall backward from the jostling.
My mind is racing in a million different directions after this morning, so much so that this isn’t what I want to be doing.
I want to sit Finlo down and discuss this morning’s events. I want to apologize.
That’ll have to wait, unfortunately.
Until after the joyful rescue of his closest friend.
Penelope was told to knock twice on the pot and open the lid for me to use the ladder Finlo installed to escape once I’m inside Prospero’s cell, so when the knock comes, I scramble to the ladder, making it to the lid as she removes it.
She helps me out before exiting the cell, leaving the door open. “I’ll be back in ten minutes,” she whispers.
The bottle in my hand is cold, and the tag reads much like the tag in the room I first landed in Wonderland. Drink me, it says.
My mind is spinning, wondering if Hatter’s magic was behind me finding myself here all along.
Or if fate keeps bringing us together with otherworldly magic, even he doesn’t possess.
Such thoughts are whimsy, so I stow them away.
Drinking down the potion, I squeak when I grow taller through the cloud of smoke filling the cell.
“Who are you?” a raspy voice asks.
“Eleanor. I’ve come to get you out of here, but we must be quick.”
“Eleanor?” Prospero says, and the smoke before him clears as if he willed it. His beady eyes narrow, dark against the blue of his silky skin. “You’re not the right Eleanor.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Who sent you, Wrong Eleanor?”
I growl in exasperation. “Hatter and Ariadne.”
At this, he perks up. “Then you might be the right Eleanor, after all.”
“I don’t know. Look, I need you to eat some of this and get into the teapot with me.”
“Where are your clothes, Wrong Eleanor?”
“I outgrew them,” I explain, finding the tiny dress I’d been in lying on the floor in a speck.
“Mm. I don’t know if I should show up to tea with a nude companion. Whatever would Hatter think of me?”
I rub my temples. “I have another dress inside the teapot for when I’m small again. I will be dressed when we arrive.”
“A plan. I do like a plan. However, I am quite comfortable down here. They feed me, keep me stocked with smoke, and sometimes, the Tweedles come and give me treats.”
