{A Fantasy Romance retelling of Alice in Wonderland}
In order to survive, a pirate and a thief must clear their names by traveling into a magical dream world together.
Adah Prideaux, seamstress by day, petty thief by night, finds herself in a world...
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Ezra took a swig of rum as he pushed his way through the crowd of yapping tourists inside Mercado's Magical Dream Shop. Wondering who had the brass to sneak aboard his ship and steal his most valuable prize.
He knew just how many people yearned for the contents of the legendary Trunk of Broken Dreams. The captain had killed a fair few of them himself when he'd sailed to the edge of the world on his brother's orders to find the cursed magical object.
Hidden inside was an Elixir so powerful, it would allow the drinker to wield unimaginable power.
Could it have been one of these tourists? A Trenali spy lurking?
Ezra shook his head, assessing the dirty, yet hopeful faces lined up to buy a taste of dreamwine. No. These people were more concerned with surviving day to day.
He took another sip from his flask as he climbed the narrow set of stairs up to the Dream Healer's apartment.
Ezra had been warned that commandeering cursed objects was risky business, and this trunk was no exception. Ever since he'd taken possession of it, odd things had started happening. The trunk's mysterious disappearance from his stateroom the strangest of all.
But, cursed or not, it made little difference. The trunk had to be found, and the Dream Healer was Ezra's number one suspect.
Once he reached the top of the creaking stairs, Ezra pounded on the door. Chatter on the other side subsided before a single gray eye stared back at him.
The captain cleared his throat. "I'm looking for Mercado Commesa."
"And who might I be looking at?" replied a curious voice.
Ezra removed his hat and tucked it under his arm. He'd heard the Dream Healer was eccentric. Odd for a man of twenty-three to carry such a reputation, but Ezra supposed he'd earned his own sort of reputation at just twenty-one.
"I am Ezra, Captain of the Dragon's Bane, here on behalf of the King."
The eye disappeared and several locks clicked before the door swung open, revealing a tall, wiry-looking man wearing a bowler hat. He had deeply tanned skin, and short, curly black hair. Several gold rings decorated his ears, and his nails were painted as black as tar.
The Dream Healer peered around his shoulder, as if expecting to find someone standing behind him.
"How can I help you, Captain Ezra of the Dragon's Bane?"
Ezra placed a hand on his pistol, then took a step past Mercado and inside the dusty apartment.
"Come in, of course," said the Dream Healer blandly, closing the door.
The place was littered with all manner of oddities. Rows and rows of glass cauldrons were stacked precariously on thick wood shelves above a small dining table. Fine woven rugs carpeted the floor while candles and incense burned from the fireplace mantle. Then there was an odd, lumpy burlap blanket covering an object as tall as the captain himself.
