A Boy Named Alice

Chapter Eleven

"Please, wake up." The voice broke through the fog, unknown and yet so familiar.

I cracked my eyes open. A man knelt next to me, his brown suit neat, red bow tie centered. His brown hair combed to the side, slick and formal, his large eyes kind.

"You did it." He held up one hand, marveling at thin fingers straight and whole.

"Did what?" I asked, sitting up. The familiarity tugged at my thoughts, a picture of a dower young man flashing before my eyes. The woods still carried a decayed look, the world too silent, the sky still dark.

"Toady?" I croaked out as exhaustion washed over me and nausea rolled. I closed my eyes and bent forward.

"Easy, AJ," he said, a gentle hand resting on my back. I focused on it, breathing in time with each stroke of his hand. "The magic you preformed was strong enough to wipe out even the most seasoned of Guardians. How you managed such a feat is a miracle."

"You sound different," I muttered into my lap, eyes still clenched shut.

"I suppose I do," he said, voice soft, a lilting tone dancing along the vowels. "I remember," he said, happy and warm. "I was Thomas Frye before I came to the Dead Woods."

I took a deep breath and sat up, wiping at the tears falling, streaking ash and dirt across my hands.

"Do you know why you changed?" I asked.

He offered a sad smile. "I was arrogant and wanted to stay. I too, took a deal I shouldn't have, and I paid a dear price."

"Oh."

Amelia and Annabelle, Toady, the creatures in the City. How many more had fallen prey to the same trap?

"Why would you do that?" I asked. Confusion squeezed my heart. How anyone could agree to such a thing was beyond me.

"I wanted to be real again," Toady said, "but the process was flawed. It was an experiment done by someone with too little power, and no care."

"Did the Mayor do this?"

"No," Toady said. "He was like I was, hungry and half alive. He would have made himself real if he'd had the power."

"Then who did?"

"I don't remember," Toady said. "That time is so blurred. I was new here and angry."

"But what about today?" I glanced around. "What happened? The whole place crumbled."

He smiled, eyes lighting up. "You got rid of the Mayor's boundary."

"Does that mean he's gone?" I asked and coughed, smoke still a prickly ball in my throat.

"Maybe," he said, "but he's stronger than the others. He could have survived."

I sagged into the earth, head tucked into my arms. I was so tired.

"Hey," Toady said, shoving my shoulder. "You still beat him." He pointed behind me. "Look."

The bridge was gone, and with it, the fog. Brick covered paths lead to elegant brick walls. It was two stories, windows running along both floors. Vines clung to the sides, dangled from the roof and wrapped around window frames. Two robed statues stood on either side of the door, books in hand, forever reading the stone pages.

Overgrown shrugs obscured the front path, the grass surrounding it brittle and dry.

"What is this place?" I climbed to my feet, legs shaky, back aching and slouched forward. I shuffled along in the same stuttering step as my grandfather. Fallen leaves and grass crunched with each step, my shoes digging small furrows in the dirt.