Just then the patch of baby’s breath began bellowing and crying.
“Argh!” The primrose snapped and bared its toothless mouth at him. “Away with ye, now, go, go, shoo.” It turned away from him. “Shh, children, mama’s here. Shh, now, shh…”
Her whispered words of comfort followed him down the path. Aeric continued to scan as he walked, frowning as he realized there was only one set of human tracks. What in the hell had gotten her?
She couldn’t be too far. If it was only just ten minutes, he should find her soon. Turning his stride into a jog, he followed the droplets of blood until he came to the end of the dirt path and the start of a large, flat, grassy clearing.
Just ahead sat the remains of an abandoned hunting lodge. Many of the roof’s beams were missing, and the steps leading up to the ramshackle gray structure appeared termite infested and rotted out.
But there was music coming from inside. The tinkling strains of bawdy piano playing, and there were candles aglow in the shadowy hollows of opened windows.
He wasn’t sure whether to enter, or not. A heavy wind would be capable of causing its collapse. But there was music, and laughter, and the trail of blood led to the door.
There was nothing for it, but to follow the blood. His only and best chance of capturing Chrysalis was through Lissa. He’d come to that inevitable conclusion last night.
She was right, he knew nothing of the dangers of Wonderland. Running away as he had had been more about keeping the tattered remains of his pride intact than truly needing to be on his own to draw the creature out.
Expecting the wooden step to turn to dust the moment his booted foot landed on it, he didn’t bear down with much weight. But it held fast.
Shrugging, he hopped up the next three steps and those held too. Not only did they hold, but they were solid. Which meant this was nothing more than another illusion.
The moment he stepped through the swinging doors, all movement stopped. Many faces he did not recognize, and some that he’d seen in other bars in other parts of Kingdom before, turned to stare at him.
But this place was unlike anything he’d ever seen in Kingdom. The walls and floors, panels and beams, everything was made of wood. Even the chandeliers hanging from the rafters were wood. A man stood behind the bar. He wore a white and red stripped shirt, a black felt hat, and there was a black band wrapped around both biceps. A gray handlebar mustache twitched as he gazed back at Aeric.
The patrons were similarly dressed in fashions the Huntsman had never seen. The women wore shimmering dresses of crimson and hunter green, boldest blues, and royal purples, all with plunging necklines and obscene make-up that looked better suited to a harlequin. Their hair was either hanging long and heavy down their backs, or caught up in a strange twist behind their heads.
The inside of the place defied logic and reason. It seemed to stretch for miles in every direction.
Back at the bar an obscenely large man with folds upon folds for a neck, shook his head. Causing his rolls to quiver. Something about the way the man moved, in a waddling up and down sort of motion had Aeric thinking of a walrus—that and the way his front two teeth curved out of his swollen pink lips like curled tusks. Adjusting his black frock coat, he snorted. “Who invited the mundane?”
“Whoo, indeed?” The owl-eyed, bespectacled man sitting beside him sniffed.
“I guess, Pillar lets in all sorts now,” Walrus curled his grotesque lips up.
The ringing of clapping hands echoed through the establishment. “Music maestro!” A deep feminine voice cried out.
All eyes turned to the woman coming down the long stairway. Unlike the other women inside, there was not much about her that looked normal, apart from her hair which was a rich, almost nutty brown color and her eyes that were a jewel green. But that was where the similarities ended.
Sprouting from her head were two curled antennae. She had a face that could never be called beautiful in any possible form. It wasn’t even plain. In fact, she had the most hideous face he’d ever seen. It reminded Aeric of mashed dough, with two slits where nostrils should be, and the barest trace of lips.
He blinked, realizing it wasn’t the dim lighting that made her skin appear pastel green, because the nearer she drew, the more obvious it became. Her arms were stubby and short, and the vivid purple and blue dress she wore dragged on and on behind her. But not like a train, or even a voluminous mass of fabric. It glided along with a sensuousness of motion that brought to mind the crawl of a caterpillar.
Aeric shuddered, and she lifted a brow, curving her lips into a wide smile.
“The Huntsman,” she said in a deep, bassy voice that sent shivers of heat down his spine. What she lacked in beauty, she made up for in presence.