Read Mad About the Hatter for Free Online

gaze glued to the ground as he clambered awkwardly out of the coach. His face wrinkled in a grimace of pain as his spine slowly, if noisily, returned to its original, uncorked, uncompressed state.
    A sign posted on the nearest wall had the word “Lair” written on it in exquisitely rendered calligraphy, full of delicate swirls and curlicues. Next to the sign, a tasseled purple velvet rope-pull dangled.
    Caterpillar’s Lair, known well to everyone who lived in Wonderland as a place to avoid entering at all costs, was also one of Hatter’s least favorite locations. Not because it was as difficult to escape as a Chinese finger trap—he was, after all, one of the few people privy to the secret of escaping it—but because of its garrulous owner.
    Caterpillar, with his absurd, drug-induced questions and habit of always referring to himself in the manner of the royal we, was enough to make anyone who wandered into his Lair consider impaling themselves on one of the gigantic hedge thorns as preferable to remaining in his company, Hatter included.
    Still, he had no choice if he was to find Boy Alice, or whatever the fellow’s real name was, and in doing so, hopefully eliminate his own date with the Axe. Not to mention feed his own curiosity, which was, at times, more of a ravenous beast than the most frumious Bandersnatch, and probably even more likely to be the means of his demise. He sighed, and reached out to gently tug on the purple velvet rope-pull.
    From somewhere deep within the green walls, a dainty, musical bell chimed. It sounded like crystal fairy laughter, so delicate, fragile, and sweet it nearly gave Hatter a toothache from hearing it.
    “Who’s come to our door?”
    “It’s Hatter, Caterpillar. Is someone called ‘Boy Alice’ in there with you?”
    Caterpillar’s wet laugh made Hatter grind his teeth. “Now, now. We have rules, as you are most well aware. We ask the questions.”
    “Come on, ‘Pillar. Don’t be a prat. Just answer the question so I can get on with my life, and you can get on with… er, whatever it is you get up to in there besides sucking on that damn hookah.”
    “Rules, Hatter! Without rules, the world is chaos. Without rules, civilization falls. Without rules, we get bored and will take a nap.”
    Hatter gritted his teeth hard enough to hurt his jaw. “Fine. What’s your question?”
    He could hear sixteen tiny hands clapping in joyous anticipation of an energetic round of riddling, and rolled his eyes.
    The sound of Caterpillar clearing his throat floated through the leaves. It sounded like he was gargling glass. “What is cold at times and warm at others, and red for all, though some Red thinks theirs blue?”
    Gods, how I hate these stupid games! He thought for a moment, then sighed. It was so obvious! Caterpillar must be losing his touch. He used to come up with riddles that actually tested the intellect.
    “The answer is blood, of course. Mammals are warm-blooded, reptiles are cold-blooded, and the royals claim their blood is blue.” He could practically smell Caterpillar’s disappointment because he’d gotten the answer so quickly. “My turn, now. Is Boy Alice in there?”
    “No, no! There are no turns. We ask the questions, not you. You know the rules, Hatter!”
    “‘Pillar—”
    “We are going to go to sleep. It shouldn’t be a long nap… only three or four days.”
    “No! No, don’t go to sleep. Go ahead, ask me another!” Hatter’s hands curled into fists as he fought to contain his temper. Naps for Caterpillar were more like drug-induced comas, and the last thing he wanted was to cool his heels outside the Lair, waiting for Caterpillar to go through days of self-induced detox.
    Caterpillar’s voice was thick with smugness. “Very well. Another riddle, then. We see far, we see close, we hold spirits, we count hours. What are we?”
    Hatter touched the tip of one of the huge thorns. It pricked his finger, drawing a bright drop of blood. He swore and