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Chapter Text

Now Alice understood why the Rabbit told her to keep her hands and feet inside the portal at all times. This was not Wonderland. She wasn’t sure where she was, but she knew Wonderland and this was not Wonderland.

The only place in Wonderland with this much sand was the Chessboard Desert. Her surroundings, while distinctly desertish, looked nothing like a chessboard. All around her, there was nothing but an ocean of tawny beige waves. At least she’d been lucky enough that the portal dumped her in the middle of an oasis.

She sat down at the edge of the water and unlaced her boots. With no way to know where she was and no way to get to her intended destination, it would be best to stay put for now. She was near water, one of the trees looked like a date palm, the trees provided enough shelter, this would be just fine until she figured out what to do next. Which was probably nothing too grand given that she had no idea which way or how far to walk to find other people.

She slipped her feet into the cool water and spotted a smooth, flat pebble within arm’s reach. Alice picked it up and tossed it up in the air a few times to test the weight before idly skipping it across the water’s surface. Even with the harsh sun, this wouldn’t be a bad way to spend the afternoon. At least, if she wasn’t trying to figure out how to get back to Wonderland in the meantime.

The last time she left, she thought she had the perfect proof. However, it turned out to be poorly thought out proof because as it turned out, a beachcomb wouldn’t work without a beach to comb. Although she was less than eager to return it to the Gryphon, he was an awful whiner and couldn’t for the life of him understand why she wanted to prove to anybody that Wonderland was real because he spent the majority of his life pretending that it’s madness wasn’t, she had promised to do so.

This time around, she thought she might catch a Dragonfly and bring that home with her. If it didn’t burn through her bag before she could get home.

Then she heard a noise behind her and turned to look. The young man’s eyes grew wide and he muttered, “Oh shit,” a good deal louder than he probably meant to once he realized that she’d seen him.

He was a bit taller than she was, although not by much, and had a kind, albeit rather shocked expression. His clothes were all a dusty beige color, not dissimilar to the sand itself, and she couldn’t help but notice that he had impossibly fancy hair.

“Have you been watching me this whole time?” she said, standing up and walking towards him.

“What? No. I’m just here to get this back,” he said, reaching up into the branches of one of the trees and pulling down a heavy looking bag. “I’m so sorry to have disturbed you. I’ll be on my way now.” He started to walk off into the desert, the bag slung over his shoulder.

“Wait, where are you going?” she said, walking after him. He may be able to lead her to civilization, or just anybody who might be able to help her.

“You have no idea where you are do you?” he said, turning back around to face her.

“Absolutely none,” she said.

He gave her a look, arched an eyebrow, and said, “Alright, fine. I can’t just leave you out here, come with me.”

“Where are we going?” she said, running to cover the distance between them.

“Agrabah,” he said, the quizzical look not leaving his face. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” For the first time, she realized that she was still barefoot. She darted back to get her boots. Although she half-expected him to have left by the time she finished lacing up her boots, he was still waiting when she returned.

“Thank you,” she said, running back to him. “For reminding me about the shoes and for helping me. I’m Alice.”

"I’m Amin,” he said after slight pause. “So Alice, what brings you to this fine place?”

“I’m a traveler from a far off land,” she said, knowing full well that it was better not to say that she was from another dimension, “returning this,” she said, opening up her bag and taking out the fine mother of pearl, aquamarine, and coral comb, “to a friend.”

“Lovely as its bearer,” he said. She told herself that the blood rushing to her cheeks was from the hot sun. “This land you’re from, what’s it like?”

“Wondrous,” she said, putting the comb back into her bag. “There are fields and forests for miles around and the flowers in the spring…” She wasn’t sure what it meant that the Tiger Lily’s and Dandy Lions came to mind before the neighbor’s roses. “Although I’m afraid I don’t know much about it, I spent most of my life traveling. This, “Agrabah,” can you tell me more about it?”

“It’s much like any other city I’m afraid,” he said, shifting the bag to his other shoulder. “Although sunrise over the minarets is a sight to be seen. The Great Astrolabe isn’t all that bad either. Although if you’re as seasoned a traveler as you say you are, then you probably already know that.”

“I certainly don’t,” she said.

“Well then Alice,” he said, grinning at her. Almost against her will, she smiled back. There was a fluttering feeling in her chest. She hoped she wasn’t coming down with something. “I suppose I shall have to show you around.”

“I think I would like that,” she replied. They walked a while before she asked, “So Amin, what are you doing out here with a bag hidden in a tree?”

“I’m something of an artist,” he said. “I was working on a project with some University students in Ankara and I have some things I’d rather not risk losing.”

“And so you hid them out in the desert? It doesn’t seem like a very well thought out plan,” she said.

“I’m the only person who knew about that place. It’s off of the trade routes and I was only gone for a day,” he said.

“I thought you said you were working on a project.”

“Consulting on a project.”

“I hope it went well.”

“Good as gold.”

“If it’s not intrusive, might I ask what sort of project it was?”

“It’s not intrusive at all. Well, you see I work in words,” he said. “I told them stories. Stories that they may find pleasant at times and unpleasant at others, but stories that I needed to tell nonetheless.”

“What kind of stories?” She always did like a good story and it might make the walk go by quicker.

“The best kind. Or the worst. It all depends on your point of view. I like to think that they’re the best kind. You may think them the worst. I told them the stry of a merchant’s son who became separated from a caravan and in need of help on his journey home, but I have many more where that came from.” From the way his eyes lit up, she could tell that Amir was passionate about what he did, excited even. She hoped that she would get to hear one.

“It sounds like a lovely story. I can’t imagine they wouldn’t like it.”

“They liked the story. They didn’t like the ending. You see, the merchant’s son had really been a clever bandit the whole time. I gave them all the clues they needed to put it together before the end, but they couldn’t put it together in time. I think they felt cheated.”

“Well, you could tell it to me and I’ll let you know if you told it well,” she said, readjusting her bag. It was a bit heavier than she should have packed it, although she’d been expecting Wonderland rather than this both stranger and less strange land.

“Would you like me to carry that for you?” he asked, gesturing to the bag.

“I can handle it,” Alice replied.

“I know you can, but it’s easier to appreciate a story when you’re not burdened,” he said, shrugging and staring off at the horizon.

“I think I can live with that,” she said, handing the bag over to him.

“Then let us begin the tale of Cyrus and the Caravan of Marvels,” he said, a confident grin spreading across his face. “A long time ago in Agrabah…”

X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

“And so, having faked his death at the hands of his accomplices, Cyrus returned home to his mother and brothers. They say that they all lived happily until the end of their days,” he said as they reached the city gates. Alice couldn’t believe that anybody hadn’t liked the tale. He’d hidden everything so masterfully until the end, it was a thrill to listen.

“That was absolutely splendid,” she said, tucking a strand of sun warm hair behind her ear. “You knew it so well too.”

“When you spend your life telling stories, it’s almost as if you live them,” he said. His warm brown eyes kept contact with hers as he moved through the crowd as easily as a fish in a stream. “The characters are like your family and their adventures are your adventures.”

“You can never have too many adventures,” she said, following close behind.

“That’s a good philosophy to have,” he said, laughing a little. “You like danger, don’t you Alice?”

“A bit,” she admitted.

They reached an open square with a fountain in the center and held her bag out to her. “I said I’d show you around, and never make a promise I can’t keep, but do you mind waiting here for a few minutes? I just have a little business to take care of.” He gave her an apologetic look.

“Oh I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” she said, setting her bag down on one of the benches.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, waving to her as he merged with the crowds.

Alice hadn’t been sitting down for more than a minute before a woman, only a little older than she was, in a blue dress embroidered with green flowers got up from the fountain and came to sit by her. “You may want to check your bag,” she said, adjusting one of the lapis pins holding her headscarf in place.

“What?” she said.

“It is clear from the way you’re dressed that you’re not from around here. That young man you were with is not as harmless as he appears,” the woman said, folding her hands in her lap.

“I think you must be confusing him for someone else, Amir is a storytell…”

“That’s what he told you his name was?” Her voice sounded equal parts exasperated and disbelieving. “At least he didn’t lie about being a storyteller. I know he seems charming, but I’ve been friends with his elder brother for years. Cyrus is…”

“His name is Cyrus?” Just as it did for the students, the pieces came together just a bit too late. He’d told her exactly what he was doing out in the desert and she’d bought it all wrapped up as a neat little package. He wasn’t working on a project with those students. He was conning them, just as Cyrus in the story did the merchant caravan. Of course they wouldn’t like the ending. He’d been cheating them the whole time.

She opened the bag and found that, just as the woman cautioned her, the comb was gone. “That smug bastard!” She didn’t care who heard her, didn’t particularly care about her vocabulary either, this was almost unforgivable.

“If only I had a dinar for every time someone said that about him…” the woman muttered.

“I’m so sorry to be a bother, but do you happen to know where I can find him? He took something rather important and I would like to get it back,” she said, closing the bag a bit more harshly than she meant to.

“There’s a bar he likes to visit, the Crowned Eagle. If you go down that street right there…” the woman pointed to the street right across from them, “until you reach the bazaar and take a left after the third date seller you see, down the road with the well at the beginning until you reach a building with a ship on the door. Take a right down the street after that one and keep going until you see the sign, you can’t miss it. Can you remember all that?”

Even if she couldn’t, Alice was determined to find him, so she nodded and thanked the woman for her help before setting off to find Cyrus. It appeared that fate, or a dimension hopping rabbit, had other plans as she spotted the Rabbit hiding behind a potted plant in the bazaar.

“Alice! I’ve been looking everywhere and everywhen for you!” he said as she ducked behind the plant with him.

“Everywhen?” She supposed that after over ten years of this sort of nonsense that Wonderlander’s odd sayings should no longer surprise her, but she’d never heard everywhen before.

“This is why you don’t mess about with the portals. You stuck a hand out or something. I told you not to, but you did, and now you’ve wound up not only in another dimension, but hundreds of years in the past,” he said, tapping his pocket watch in an irate manner. “Come on, we have to go before something happens.”

“Already happened Rabbit. Somebody stole the Beachcomb and I have to return it to the Gryphon and you know how he gets…”

“And you’re just going to hunt them down? Alice, they could be anywhere by now, not to mention the risks involved…”

“I know exactly where Cyrus is and this won’t take me long at all.”

“But the risk…”

“Do you want to explain to the Gryphon that I lost the one thing that he doesn’t hate about Wonderland?”

“Alright, point taken, we’ll go and find your Cyrus, but if this goes badly, I’m tunneling us right out of here.”

She could accept that and as the Rabbit followed her through the streets, her resolve to fix this little situation grew. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen for that, but he’d been so charming and sweet.

“Alright, this looks like the right place,” she said, glancing at the sign above the door. “You may want to wait out here Rabbit.” The Rabbit agreed with her, nervously checking his watch again.

The bar wasn’t quite as seedy as she’d been expecting. It was certainly cleaner than Underland, smelled better too. But seated at a back table, playing cards with a group of probably equally unsavory characters, was the very man she was looking for.

“You thief!” she said, striding right up to the table, glaring at him the whole way.

“I have no idea who you are or what you’re talking about,” he replied, not looking at her and drawing a card from the deck.

“You told the truth about one thing Cyrus, you are a story teller. You are a damn good storyteller, but you’re an arrogant twit and I don’t care how I get it back, but I need to get that comb back and…”

She was drawing looks from the other card players. They were evidently ether familiar with his behavior or just as clueless as she used to be. Even she knew that getting into a fight here would end badly and she didn’t think that asking politely would work, but there had to be something she could do to get the Beachcomb back. Then she said, almost without thinking, “I’ll play you for it.”

X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

“But how did you…you didn’t even know how to play when we started…” he said, his mouth hanging open a bit more than he meant it to as he stared at yet another winning hand. She had to have been lying before, he’d done that often enough, he couldn’t believe that he’d missed the signs.

“I told you,” Alice, if that was even her real name, said, picking up the fine comb from the center of the table. “I like to win.” With that, she got up and left the card table. Before she left, she turned to the other players. “And by the way, he’s cheating all of you.”

He could only stare at the empty door frame as she left. He never lost at cards, yet a woman who claimed no experience beat him. He’d even cheated and he still lost. She had to have done something, or gotten very lucky or…then it hit them.

The numbers. Every now and then she’d mutter a number under her breath. At the time, he’d thought it a rather strange sort of tell or nervous twitch, but now he knew. She looked at the deck of cards and she just did the math.

His heart raced, yet he felt an overwhelming sense of calm. That was an incredible thing he’d just witnessed. She’d beaten him at his own game. He couldn’t believe it, but when he thought about it, he started grinning like a fool. That Alice, or whoever she was, was something special. He almost didn’t notice when one of the burlier card players picked him up by his shirt collar and dragged him out back.

He was still thinking about her later that night while Taj attempted to patch him up after the men and women he’d played cards with beat him. Not that he could really blame them. He couldn’t feel mad at her for telling them about the cheating. He couldn’t even be mad that she wasted the weeks of preparation that went into the Anakara scam when the card players divided up his earnings amongst themselves. He wasn't angry that he now owed some very dangerous people an awful lot of money. He could only think of the confident, satisfied, almost playful way she took back the comb and the sheer enthusiasm with which she’d listened to the story he told her.

“Alright, that’s the worst of it,” his brother said, handing him a cool cloth to hold to the swelling on his cheek. “What’s happened to you is more punishment than anything mother can give, so I won’t tell her what happened.” Upon noting that Cyrus was not paying attention to a word he said, he added, “Are you feeling alright? I’ve told you a thousand times, if get hit in the head, you have to let me know if you’re feeling off because it might be a concussion and…”

“Taj,” he said, staring at the wall, visions of Alice still in his head. He wished he’d been telling her stories for real rather that to scam her. “I think I’m in love.”

“You definitely have a concussion.”

Chapter Text

Never before had Alice been so grateful that the Red Queen had a remarkable track record for hiring stupid people Not once, in all her years running from her guards, had they ever thought that she would make use of Wonderland’s shrinking mushrooms for an escape. So, while they debated whether she went left or right, she was busy thinking of a place to hide until this all blew over because while she doubted that they would find her, it never hurt to be cautious.

She didn’t want to risk the unpleasantness that would likely occur should she go deeper into the hedges. She’d already witnessed them eating two of the less fortunate guards during her time with the Knave. Given her mission, she was less than eager to be their next victim as going home would be rather difficult. There was a better option though. Through some stroke of luck, there was an ornate bottle hidden just within the hedgerow. It was just a matter of opening it up and waiting inside for the guards to give up their search.

Once she stepped into the bottle, she immediately wished she hadn’t. She almost couldn’t believe what she was seeing, neglecting that inside the bottle was actually rather cozy and almost home-like.  She looked down at the bit of mushroom in her hand to make sure it wasn’t the kind that made you see things because this had to be a hallucination. Seated on a cushion on the other end of the bottle was a familiar young man she hoped never to see again.

“Alice?” He sounded equally disbelieving. That voice was all the conformation she needed that this was unfortunately real.

 “You!” she exclaimed, taking a firmer grip on her bag and taking a step back towards the bottle entrance. Of course, he had the exact opposite reaction.

“Alice, it really is you!” His face lit up like the dawn and he practically leapt to his feet. She decided that the safety the bottle offered was not worth the annoyance Cyrus brought and turned around to leave. “I cannot believe it, of all the people to find my bottle, you clever…wait, where are you going?”

“I don’t know, but neither will you,” she replied, her skirts ruffling as she stepped out of the bottle.

“But you can’t…you’re my new…” he stammered. “Mistress mine, my will is thine, tell me your wishes three.” Something sharp cut into the palm of her hand, she glanced down for a moment to see three shining rubies.

She turned back the young man in the bottle, still looking at her with a hopeful expression. She had no idea what had just happened, but if she had any knowledge of Cyrus, and she had more than she wanted, it was nothing good. She didn’t want to know how he’d made three, likely stolen, jewels appear in her hand, she didn’t want to know how he’d wound up in that bottle, or in Wonderland for that matter, or why he was being so friendly towards her, she just wanted to get him out of her life. For good this time. Yet it appeared that that would be easier said than done.

“Bloody hell,” she muttered, walking back towards the bottle. Earlier she’d hoped Will would be right in his assessment that she wouldn’t be alone for long, but not like this. Never like this. “What are these?” She held the jewels out to him.

“Your wishes. My circumstances have changed considerably since we last saw each other.” He paused and his expression clouded. Something darkened in his eyes. If she didn’t know it was an act, she would have felt almost sorry for him. “I’ve changed considerably since we last saw each other.” Given their last meeting, she was fundamentally disinclined to believe anything he had to say on the matter of anything, let alone his moral standing.

“If you think I’m going to believe that, you’re madder than…” 

“I’m not mad. I really am a genie,” he said, rolling up his sleeves to reveal two gold cuffs. “See?”

“I see you found yourself some new jewelry,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her. “You couldn’t just fool me once. You had to follow me through time and space to finish the job.”

 “I know it’s difficult to believe…” He was impossible to believe. “…but I’ve changed. I’m a genie, you’re my mistress, and those are your wishes.”

“Even if you are telling the truth, I want nothing to do with you or these wishes. I don’t understand why you can’t just leave me alone,” she said.

“Because, against all odds, you’re my mistress and I can’t…”

“Of all the mad things to happen to me in Wonderland, running into you again has to be the maddest,” she said. “If I am your mistress, and I’m not, then I’m telling you to go and do whatever it is that you do, away from me, because I want nothing more to do with you.” With that, she turned and walked away under the safe cover of the hedgerow, hopeful that this time, she was rid of him for good.

X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X

“What part of, “Go away, I want nothing to do with you,” is difficult to understand?” she said, ducking under a tree branch. When she noticed somebody following her through the Tulgy Wood, she’d hoped it was one of the guards. Unfortunately, a quick glance over her shoulder proved otherwise.

“I am away from you,” he said, ducking under the branch. “Alice, I don’t think you understand the severity of the…”

“Five feet away from me is not away from me. Away from me is away from me,” she replied, pushing a branch away from in front of her.

“You don’t understand. You’re my mister…” she let go of the branch and it smacked him in the face. “Wishes are complicated things and, even if you don’t use them, you have to be educated about them. I’ve seen havoc wreaked from a man wishing for coffee and…”

“I’m sure you have. Because you’re an all-powerful genie right?” she said, turning around and glaring at him again. She didn’t know what kind of angle he was trying to work, but she wasn’t going to fall for his genie trick. “How many people did you tell that story to? How’s this one go? You’re a poor, helpless genie, trapped in a bottle, and you need their help to be free and just when you get them feeling sorriest for you, you con them for everything they’ve got. Well, it’s not working on me. Not again.”

“It wasn’t a story,” he insisted, picking pine needles out of his hair. “What do I have to do to convince you that I’ve really been turned into a genie? I don’t know how long it’s been for you…” Not long enough. “…but I’ve been tethered to that bottle for over a hundred years…” She didn’t understand how he expected her to believe it. She had to admit though, he was putting on a good show. If she didn’t know what a conniving ass he was, she might just believe it. “…and it’s hard to believe me but I really am trying to help you.”

“Like you helped those students?”

“What stu…” his words were slow and confused, as if he really couldn’t remember what he’d told her. “Oh Gods those…I’m so sorry, it’s been a very long time, my memory’s not always the be…”

“Save it for someone who doesn’t know you.”

“You don’t know me,” he said. “You met me for a few hours, eons ago…”

“A year ago.” She’d seen and heard a lot of very unbelievable things in her time in Wonderland, but how he could keep pretending he was a genie when she very clearly didn’t believe it was completely beyond her.

“For you. It’s been longer for me. Tell me what I have to do to make you believe me and I will do it,” he said. He looked almost sincere. It looked like the only way to get rid of him was to humor the madness.

“Fine. You have one minute to tell me everything you need to tell me,” she said, setting down the bag and loosening the strings so that if the situation turned unpleasant, at least the Rabbit could get away.

He was still and silent for a moment, no doubt thinking of how best to spin the story in his favor, before saying, “Your wishes Alice, they are very powerful and very fickle things. They bring great misery just as often, if not more often, as great joy. There are however a few rules, I can’t kill anybody, I can’t bring anybody back to life, I can’t change the past, and I can’t make anybody fall in love. All the proof you need to know I’m telling the truth is right there in your hand. Make a wish, any wish, and it is my command.”

The fact that he wanted her to make a wish was enough to dissuade her from doing so. The gems were probably cursed to make something awful happen to whoever made a wish on them. Every time he spoke he came up with something even more unbelievable. She pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance. It was like he wasn’t even trying to lie anymore.

“Just leave me alone and go back to your bottle.” As the words left her lips, a cloud of orange smoke formed around Cyrus’ feet. Her eyes grew wide in shock as the cloud swirled and enveloped him. When the smoke vanished, so did Cyrus. “Oh my. Rabbit?” She looked down at the ears now sticking out of the bag. “I think he might've been telling the truth.”

Chapter Text

            “You’re thinking about that woman again,” Taj said, poking Cyrus with the climbing grass stalks when he took too long to notice his brother handing the herbs down to him. It didn’t normally take all three of them to gather potion ingredients, but with the cliff climbing that was involved, it was safer this way. Of course, in spite of the fact that Cyrus was far better at climbing, Taj insisted that his brothers stay on the ground rather than risk breaking their necks in a fall.

“I was not,” he insisted, taking the grass and putting it in the bag rather more roughly than he meant to.

“You’re either admiring the lovely cliff face or you’re thinking about her lovely face,” Rafi added.

“Don’t you have school work tonight?” Cyrus asked. Knowing Rafi, he’d finished and double checked his work hours before they left, but changing the subject was better than putting up with their teasing.

“Finished.” Rafi’s slightly smug grin was too much like Cyrus’ own for his comfort.

“Then how do you find the longest side of a triangle?” Taj asked, tossing another stalk down to Cyrus.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Ask Cyrus’ girlfriend.” The only thing more annoying than one of them teasing was both of them. Before he could open his mouth to respond, Rafi added on, “What was it you said about the cards? And I quote, “she just did the math.”

“I met her for a few hours a week ago and…”

“You’ve been talking about her ever since,” Taj said.

“She beat me at cards! That’s worth talking about!” he said. As much as his little adventures made Taj worry, he still found some of them amusing.  “And that handhold you’re about to use is loose.” He used to hide money on a ledge a little way up until the handhold got too treacherous to trust.

“It was worth talking about until you told the story for the hundredth time and she’s gone from making smarter bets than you to predicting the cards you’re going to draw three moves ahead.”

“I’m not exaggera…” Another stalk of grass hit him in the face. He knew better than to insist, both of his brothers knew when he was telling stories, but it was a habit.

“You’re always exaggerating.”

“Speaking of exaggerating, how’s that job going?” A few weeks ago, Taj pulled some strings with a friend to get him a job at a livestock auction. Things had been fine at first, but it was almost too easy to sell someone an old, worn down camel, and his commissions wasn’t great. Then one day on his break, he spotted a lost looking man with a large money bag and the next thing he knew he was leading the man across town on the Tourist Trap and he never went back.

Not that he’d told anybody though. He’d had to duck through the livestock district in the bazaar on his way home in order to get the smell on him to keep up the charade, but if for a few weeks, nobody questioned where he got money, it was worth it. 

“I get paid to magically make donkeys younger and horses faster. What could be better?” he said, carefully rolling his eyes to give the impression that he was bored, letting a bit of amusement creep into his voice. To really make the final sale, he added, “Ask Zhaleh the next time you see her to give me a raise though.” If he didn’t know any better, he would have said he felt genuinely proud of himself.

And to a certain extent he was. He didn’t like lying to his brothers, but sometimes it was a necessary evil. A very necessary one given how little he wanted to involve Rafi in his plans and how much Taj would like to interfere with them. He’d gotten very good at it over the years. There was a little part of him that nagged at him for this, but like the part that told him not to pull the Tourist Trap and go back to work, he ignored it and his life was all the better for it. And he was of the opinion that a fine artist should always feel proud of his work.

However, the look Taj gave him killed off the warm, fuzzy feeling that a lie well told usually gave. He was used to Taj looking at him in disappointment. Ever since he grew up and started taking himself too seriously, there was never an occasion for Taj not to be disappointed with Cyrus. There was always another thing he’d done wrong or another lecture, but the fact remained that Cyrus contributed to the family every bit as much as Taj said he didn’t. Just because he went about it a different way and preferred to be self-employed meant nothing.

But tonight, the look his brother gave him was enough to make him want to go out into the desert and never come back. It was only for a split second, not long enough for the youngest to notice, but just enough to let Cyrus know that Taj knew he was lying and he wasn’t surprised about it. He wasn’t angry either, he’d seen it happen too often for that. He wasn’t frustrated, disturbed, annoyed, worried, any of the usual suspects as far as Taj was concerned. He wasn’t even disappointed.

In that moment, Cyrus wished beyond anything else that he couldn’t read people like an open book because the look Taj gave him was unlike any he’d ever seen in response to his less than moral proclivities. Taj knew, and he no longer knew what to think.

X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X

“Well that could have gone better,” Cyrus said, staring at the still open end of the bottle. No master had ever done this to him before, sending him back to the bottle with no intention of letting him out. But then again, he’d never had a master who he’d scammed.  At least, not before they let him out of the bottle. He’d tricked quite a few after the fact, but after a while, and a good bit of self-reflection, he’d given that up. At least he’d left the other end of the bottle open when he went after her.

He hadn’t thought about Alice in centuries, yet here she was, marching straight back into his life like nothing had changed. For the longest time, she was another mark, albeit one who’d beaten him at his own game, but they’d known each other for hours and he had been the opposite of honest with her about who he was. Yet as with anybody else, he could read her and he admired what he read. Curious, daring, intelligent, honest, and stubborn. As he was finding out now, so, so stubborn.

He’d been blessed with a remarkable memory and as he stepped out of the bottle again, he found himself thinking of the way she’d looked at him when he was telling her stories and that warm, fuzzy feeling he used to get from a well-run scam started bubbling up. As he realized what he was feeling, he stopped in his tracks and forced the smile from his face. He was not going to feel good about lying to her. He’d left that life behind and was not eager to return to it.

Then the smoke cloud started to form around his feet and the familiar sensation of returning to normal size started up. It happened every time, without fail, every time a djinn left their bottle. He glanced around the hedge maze, unsure of what to do next. He kicked the bottle a little further under the hedge for safe keeping as he had no way of carrying it himself without looking conspicuous and given what he’d seen the hedge do to some sort of small animal earlier, it would be quite safe there.

The first time around, he’d just followed Alice out of the maze, paying little attention to where he was actually going. Now, he had no idea how he was going to find her again. He wasn’t even entirely sure if he should find her again. Alice made it very clear that she wanted nothing to do with him. Yet she was his mistress. Even if she refused to acknowledge it or act like it, he was supposed to serve her. At the same time, she’d ordered him to stay away and he should respect that.

He’d told her about the wishes. His previous master wished him to a world where Jafar couldn’t get him, so he didn’t have to worry about her getting tangled up with that sorcerer. Yet he wanted to be with her instead of being on his own. She was the first person to know him as something other than a ticket to their life’s wildest dreams in years. Even if she didn’t treat him as though he were a particularly well liked person, and he deserved it, she still treated him like a person.

He hadn’t been outside his bottle without the purpose of granting wishes for years. He was in a strange land with no idea where he was, no idea where to go, and no idea what to do. He hadn’t been able to decide what to do for himself for the longest time. He’d had some masters who’d let him roam around while they figured out what to do with their wishes, but this wasn’t the same. They hadn’t washed their hands of him.

The biggest choice he usually had to make was how to pass time in the bottle, but now there was a whole realm of possibilities in front of him and he had to figure out what to do for himself.   He would turn left to start out of the maze, but other than that he had no idea where to go and there would be other turns and other decisions and so many mistakes he could make. It would be just like him to have something vaguely resembling free will and to misuse it.

He looked at the fork at the end of the hedge row, dreading the inevitable choice it would bring and the choices he would have to make after that. He wanted Alice to guide him through the maze again. She was smart. She knew her way around this strange world. She would know what to do next. He’d seen enough of her all those years ago to know that even if she didn’t particularly like him and would likely never trust him again and he didn’t deserve it, she would help him get unlost.

Setting off for the end of the hedge with far less bravado than the first time, he tried to think of where to go next. He’d always wanted to see other places, but he had no idea where he was and no idea how to get anywhere worth seeing. He kept thinking of her open, trusting face as he told her stories and for just a moment, imagined telling her some of his more exciting stories from his time as a djinn as they walked through the maze.

Chapter Text

“Urgh,” Alice said, shutting the book and burying her face in her hands. For once, visiting a Bookwyrm was of no help to her. Most of what she had was useless information with nothing about how to get rid of a genie and the rest of it were tawdry romance novels with genies as protagonists or love interests. And lord knows she had no interest in doing any of those sorts of things with Cyrus. “Rabbit, none of these books are helping.” Mr. Rabbit moved the small stack of books from the outdoor table and set down another cup of tea.

“Alice, maybe you should let this go,” Mr. Rabbit said. “Make three harmless wishes and be rid of him for once and for all.”

“Have you read these books?” She said, reaching down and taking the book with the red cover and opening it to a section of poorly thought out wishes. Using the three red jewels hidden in the secret compartment in her shoe was an option she would not consider. “People have died and doomed countless other lives over a cup of coffee.” She pointed to an illustration depicting the aforementioned ill-fated beverage. “And that was just with an incompetent genie. There are actively malevolent ones who can twist a wish to have the worst possible outcome. Do you think Cyrus would be anything else?” No matter how much of a friendly, polite, changed-man front he was putting up now, she was not going to fall for it twice.

“You have a point there,” he said, taking a seat across the table from her. “I’m sure you’ll find something Alice, you always do.”

“I don’t think I can this time,” she said. “I’ve read all of these books and there’s a thousand and one things about how to find a genie, how to properly make a wish - professional tip, you can’t-, how their powers work, all things like that, but nothing about how to get rid of them. Just make your wishes or die. And unless you’ve got a good one, that’s the same thing. And I don’t have a good one. In fact, I probably have one of the worst out there.”

“It seems like you’re deliberately avoiding the issue Alice,” he said. “Maybe if you talked to Cyrus about this he would know more about it.”

“I’m not avoiding the issue, I’m avoiding Cyrus. Which is a perfectly reasonable response to being involved with Cyrus,” she said, taking a sip of tea. Even the woman she talked to in the market place so long ago seemed to think that avoiding Cyrus altogether was the best course of action.

“Have you considered that he may have been telling the truth about being a changed man?” he asked. “The time I picked you up from was a very, very long time ago. I wouldn’t put it out of consideration that a few centuries in a bottle would change somebody.”

“I’m not trusting him again,” she said, perhaps a bit more forcefully than she meant to. She hoped that would put a permanent end to that. “The entire time I knew him, he seemed so polite and so nice, much like he’s acting now. But it’s just an act. He’s nothing more than a common swindler. For that entire afternoon, he made me feel so special and wonderful, even acted like he believed me when he probably thought I was mad as much as anybody else, until he got what he wanted. He’s a liar and a cheat, a very charming liar and a cheat, but a liar and a cheat nonetheless and I wouldn’t trust him again if my life depended on it.”

“Well, maybe some good can come of this,” he said, taking her hand in his paw and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “This could be the proof you need to convince your father that all of this is real.”

“You’ve met Cyrus,” she said, without thinking. After a pause, she laughed and added, “Can you imagine introducing a slimy conman I last saw in a marginally less dodgy bar to my father?” Even Mr. Rabbit chuckled at the image of her stodgy father talking to the swindler.

“I’ll admit, the idea is certainly amusing,” he said, checking his pocket watch and organizing the pile of books on the table. 

“Alright, Mr. Rabbit, I really must be going,” she said, taking a final sip of her tea and looking up at the filtered sunlight. It was getting late and she had quite a bit of ground to cover if she wanted to see about finding a new artifact for proof. She gave Mr. Rabbit a hug, he told her to be careful and reminded her that she was more than welcome at the Rabbits’ home whenever she liked, and then she set off.

Alice didn’t get far before realizing that she was being followed again. She set her teeth and her fingers coiled into a fist in preparation to punch certain genie in his smug face, then she waited for a birdcall to pretend to be distracted to check over her shoulder. It appeared that she was not going to see the end of the guards any time soon. She pretended not to see anything and kept walking.

It would be easier to do this in a less cramped area, but she was not particularly worried. There was only half a dozen of them and the Queen’s Guard were not particularly threatening, frequently citing that they were not paid enough to deal with Alice. The sounds of their footsteps got closer and closer and she scanned the area for the most favorable location. There was a particularly large and dangerous looking Dogwood Tree that would provide cover and a bite worse than it bark.

She stopped at the base of the tree and examined the bark, as though lost in thought. If they knew she knew they were there, she’d lose the element of surprise. The leaves behind her crunched under the weight of many boots and a voice said, “We’ve got you now.”

“This is the last thing I wanted to do today,” Alice said, picking up a nearby fallen tree branch without turning around. It was a good, strong branch, its weight felt good in her hand. It wasn’t her first choice of weapon, but it would do. “First the mad genie won’t leave me alone, now you louts decide to keep hounding me.” She turned around to face them. “Well ladies and gentlemen of the Queen’s Guard, have at me.”

X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X

“You’re lost aren’t you?” said a voice from behind him. He spun around and found the hedgerows still empty. He glanced at the left fork, then the right again, thinking he’d missed something, but there was nobody. He spun around again and heard a slight laugh somewhere above him. He looked up and saw a woman perched atop one of the killer hedges.

She had a scarf pulled up over the lower half of her face and a peaked hat covered dark hair. She was dressed in a manner that suggested some sort of stealth work, possibly in a government capacity. She was obviously comfortable with this environment and knew some way to keep the hedges from devouring her, suggesting a familiarity with the maze and given that he’d heard numerous parties of what he learned were Queen’s Guards going through the maze, she likely had a shared background. 

“I don’t think so…” he just hadn’t decided which way to go yet. He’d been stuck in this maze for hours, most of which consisted of him standing at various crossroads, trying to figure out which way to go next. He felt as though he should have been able to remember which way Alice led him the first time, but this whole maze looked the same and he was no longer any good at making decisions.

He was stuck at the first turn for what must have been half an hour. He thought he remembered which way he went the first time, but he may have been wrong. Being wrong meant being stuck in this maze even longer. Or never seeing Alice again. The turns grew more difficult after that. He had all the more potential to be wrong and even after he made a choice, he worried he’d made the wrong one.

“Well, you’ve been standing there since I got here and I’ve been watching you going back and forth for a good five minutes,” she said, cocking her head to the side. “If you’re not lost, then I’m the queen.”

“Are you the queen?” He’d served kings, empresses, sultanas, shahs, and all manner of royalty and if he’d learned one thing, it was that the possibility of royalty dressing up as commoners and blending in was not out of the question.

She laughed so hard she almost fell off the hedge. He couldn’t help but notice the bitter voice when she finally regained enough self-control to say, “Nargals! You really are lost aren’t you?” Perhaps she wasn’t one of the Queen’s Guards.

“Maybe,” he admitted.

She leapt down from the hedge with all the grace of a mountain goat, pulled her scarf down, smiled at him, and said, “You need help?”

He didn’t know what to say to that. He certainly had no idea how to get around this place and she had some ability not to be eaten by the killer hedges. But she probably had more important things to do than show him the way out and he didn’t want to inconvenience her. The selfish bit of him he’d worked so hard to repress told him to accept her offer, but he couldn’t ask that of her. She’d only just met him and owed him nothing. He didn’t even know her name. Yet she had no idea what he was, no idea what he could do, and still offered him aid. 

“I confess I might,” he said. “I’m afraid I’m not from around here and don’t quite know my way about yet.”

“You can live here for years and never know how this maze works,” she said. She held her hand out to him and said, “I’m Lizard. You can call me Liz.”

“Cyrus,” he said, taking her hand. She shook his hand firmly and set off down the left path.  A wave of relief passed through him. He’d been a few moments away from taking the right. Anything to save him from his own poor life choices.

She led him through the maze without a moment’s hesitation, sometimes paying more attention to their conversation than where she was going. He envied that sort of ease. He used to be able to slip through crowded Agrabah markets with the same ease. He still found it difficult to believe that Liz was swilling to help him, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“You really seem to know your way around,” he said as they turned down an overgrown path. “Is everybody from this land a natural navigator?”

Liz laughed and replied, “Nah. Most people stay as far  away from the maze as possible if they can help it. Good for me though because the Queen’s Guards don’t go in if they can help it either. I mean, it was crawling with the buggers earlier but they normally keep out. Hedges, you know?”

“Actually I don’t.” He didn’t like the implication of that statement. That meant that massive killer plants were the norm here.

“You mean you’ve never seen a hedge in action?”

“Well, I think I saw one eat a squirrel earlier if that’s what you mean.” They took a turn to the left.

“Exactly.”

“Are all the plants in this land so voracious?”

“Well, they might not all eat you, but a lotta them are gonna give you a run for your money. The maze used to be pretty safe, but the Queen’s let the hedges go all feral.” He couldn’t help but notice the frustration in her voice.

“You seem to be pretty safe around them,” he said, recalling the sight of the woman perched on the hedgerow.

“Yeah, well they like me,” Liz said, making another left turn. “Used to be a gardener. Until the Queen said she wanted red roses instead of white and Bill couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “What do you want us to do? Paint them?” he said. Next thing we know, the entire gardening staff’s out.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be. I got a sweet gig going now.” She smiled at him. He knew that smile. That was the, “Yes Taj, everything at work is fantastic,” smile. She was good at faking, but he was better at reading people. He thought better of pressing her about this. She was helping her and he hadn’t known her that long.

“So what do you do?”

“Odd jobs here and there. It’s great, get to make my own schedule and everything,” she sounded sincere, but something about the way she looked just over his shoulder instead of at his face led him to believe that there was more to the story. “What about you? What brings you to Wonderland?”

“Well, it’s a long story,” he started. “Hundreds of years in the making. To make a story as long as the fabled golden road of Oz into a more doable hike, suffice it to say there was a girl.”

“Ah.” The sympathetic look on her face told him that she’d heard another story that started the same way, although likely ended considerably differently.

“I don’t think anybody’s told a tale quite like this one before,” he said. “Let’s just say we were magically bound together by accident.” He added, sounding a bit more put out than he probably meant to, “And she wants nothing to do with me.”

“You like her a lot don’t you?” she said.

“I barely know her,” he admitted. “We met a long time ago, but in the short time we knew each other, I’m afraid I ruined any trust we may have had.”

“If it’s not too personal, what’d you do?” she asked.

“I’d rather not talk about it.” Thinking that far back dredged up painful memories. Thinking of meeting Alice for the first time made him remember Taj patching him up after the bar fight and promised not to tell their mother about how he’d been gambling again. He was far happier thinking of his first memories being of his first master letting him out of his lamp rather than playing with his brothers in the streets near their home.

“I don’t even want her to trust me anymore, because gods know I don’t deserve it, but I just want her to know I’m not the same person I was back then, but I’m afraid I ruined any chance she’ll believe me.”

“Because you got her cursed?” He didn’t like the idea of lying to Liz, but he didn’t think she’d believe that centuries ago, he’d conned Alice out of a comb, then later on became her djinn and she was having none of that.

“Exactly.” Not entirely a lie.

“That’s rough buddy,” she said, tugging on a vine and two of the hedges parted to reveal a wall of trees, thicker and denser than any he’d seen before. “The main road’s this way.” She left the maze and headed towards the wood. “I’m heading back to town if you want me to show you the way.”

It certainly sounded better than waiting here for whatever sort of wildlife accompanied killer hedges. “I’d be glad to accompany you,” he said. “Sorry if I’ve caused you any inconvenience.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said. “It’s not like I went out of my way or anything. Besides, if you’d stayed there, you’d probably run into the Queen’s Guards and let me tell you, you do not want to do that. They’re not so bad, but Her Highness loves a good beheading.”

“That can’t be good for her subject’s morale.”

“Nah, but hey,” she said, “what’s a castle without a few talking heads?”

“A few talking heads?” He’d heard of spells for these sorts of things, but he always thought it was his mother telling scary stories.

“You really are from another realm aren’t you?” she said. “Yeah. They’re really creepy too. She used to keep them at the maze entrances to scare off tresspassers.”

“I don’t think they’re working too well.”

“I wouldn’t know,” she said, shuddering a little. “I stopped using the real entrances a while ago. Don’t let all this ruin your impression of Wonderland though. It’s not all awful here. We’ve got Dandylions, Tigerlilies, Catmint, Underland’s not all that bad if you know how to hold onto your wallet…”

Liz started rattling off a list of curiosities he’d never even considered in all his years in the bottle as they walked. He responded in turn by telling her he was a traveler and told her stories of far off lands he’d visited and his home in Agrabah.

A long time later, he heard the rattling of cartwheels and an odd sight rolled around a bend in the road. A strange little dragon wearing spectacles came slithering along the road, pulling a covered wagon full of books. They came to a stop in front of Liz.

“Hello Elizabeth,” they said, stepping out of their harness.

“Hello Zirnitra,” she responded.

“How have you been? Who’s your friend?”

“I’m Cyrus,” he said, holding his hand out to dragon. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine. My name is Zirnitra and I’m a Bookwyrm,” she said, straightening up a bit and sounding rather proud of her position. She shook his hand and said, “Can I interest you two in anything?”

Liz looked very uncomfortable for a moment before asking, “Those novels I borrowed the other week…”

“Ah yes! “Temptation of an Underland Scoundrel,” “The Wyvern Lord’s Heir,” and…”

“Yes I remember,” Liz said, her face turning a deep shade of red. “Anything like those?”

“I think I might have a few,” Zirnitra said, slithering over to her cart and rummaging about. He couldn’t help but like the mobile library. “Your card’s still on file with me and while we’re on the subject, Cyrus, do you have a Bookwyrm card?

“I’m afraid I’ve only just arrived in this land,” he said. “But I think that your services are wonderful so I think I would like that very much.”

“Ooooh Liz, I already like him better than the other lout you hang around with,” Zirnitra said, pushing her glasses back up her snout as she went through the books. “What’s his name again…Wade? Wigstan? Wilfred? Windsor…”

“Will,” Liz corrected. As the color of her face deepened, he surmised that she and Will were likely more than friends.

“Right. Will. No interest in a Bookwyrm card. Said he wouldn’t be here for long enough to need one. Well, we’ll see where that gets him. All alone in the world without any of these lovely books,” Zirnitra said, caressing the spine of an encyclopedia. “Well Liz, I think I’ve have a few things you’re going to love.” She placed a stack of well-worn paperbacks on the side of the cart.  “One Night on the Boiling…”

“Ah thank you so much,” Liz said, cutting her off again and taking the books from the cart before Zirnitra could rattle off any more titles, careful to cover the covers with her hands.

“Now you Cyrus,” the dragon said, hopping onto the side of the cart and pushing her glasses back into place. “What sorts of books do you like?” He really didn’t know. He hadn’t had a chance to read for pleasure in a very long time and he was no longer sure of what he liked.

“I’ll give anything a chance,” he said, not wanting to offend the Bookwyrm by saying that he honestly did not know what he liked to read. “I really only want one though. I’m only passing through.”

“Hrm…” she said, rubbing her snout with her talons as she thought. “You look like you’d like a nice adventure. Let’s see what I have…” She dove back into the cart. “I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer at the moment. I had a busy day in town and earlier, somebody borrowed everything I had about genies. And I told her that “Taming of the Rogue Djinn,” was not an informational text, but she wouldn’t listen…” That sounded an awful lot like Alice.

“Was she about Liz’s height, have long light brown hair, and wear a white dress?” he said, perhaps a bit more eagerly than he meant to.

“I’m sorry, I am less than optimal with appearances, I remember books. I know she typically borrows books about physics, but I would need to look up the receipt to recall her name, here, allow me…” She reached for a black metal box he assumed held receipts.

“Oh no, never mind, it’s not important,” he said. “What was that you were saying about adventure stories?” Just as he said this, his gaze fell on a stack of books a bit more relevant to his predicament.