Untamed Page 31


“Jeb’s house will be the first stop,” Mom answers as we ascend a few steps.

I’m puzzled for an instant, until the maneuver makes perfect sense. “So we can scope out any police activities going on at our place. Very smart.”

“More than that,” Dad corrects me from behind. “We’re going to need some outside help to set the stage for Mom and Jeb’s absence for a month, and your escape from the asylum. If we don’t handle this right, I could get arrested for breaking you out while you were a suspect in their disappearances.”

“Help from whom?” I ask, gripping the cool, glassy rail. This is starting to sound more complicated and dangerous than I imagined. I never considered Dad going to jail. Maybe we should’ve taken Morpheus up on his offer after all.

“Help from someone who’s been working with the police on the investigation,” Mom answers. “Someone who’s not a suspect and who everyone trusts because she’s been grieving her brother and best friend ever since they’ve gone missing.”

My pulse hammers in my wrists as I look over my shoulder to where Jeb’s coming up the stairs behind Dad. “You can’t mean . . .”

Sunlight streams through the crystallized walls and emblazons Jeb’s features, magnifying the cautious resolve there. “Unless you can think of another way, Al”—he says, an obvious reference to the wish waiting in his pocket—“we’re going to have to tell Jen the truth. All of it.”

Though I won’t say it aloud, I’m not willing to let Jeb give up his wish for anyone or anything. After the violence she’s faced in her life, Jenara is tough. She also believes in the power of crystals, voodoo, Ouija boards, and tarot cards. She’s only one quirk away from tipping the mad scale already. Making her an honorary netherling is the most logical step in this illogical situation. And, honestly, it will feel good to stop hiding my Wonderland side from my best friend. She’s going to be my sister-in-law. Our family life will be less complicated if we can talk openly about everything.

Before we step through the portal into the human realm, Mom, Dad, Jeb, and I discuss the plan, since we have different places to go during the setup.

Last night, after I’d reopened the portals during my tour with Morpheus, and while Jeb was weeping a wish, Mom and Dad went into the human realm and did recon. From the safety of our attic, they waited to be sure the house was empty, then went online and gathered up all the news reports they could find about the Underland tragedy on prom night, Mom and Jeb’s disappearance that seemed in some way to be tied to it, and my escape from the asylum a month later.

APBs had been issued for me and my dad within twenty-four hours after we left. We’d been officially missing for three days.

The most helpful piece of information was Mr. Traemont’s recent interview with the local paper about his ruined activity center. The devastation had been so severe—busted concrete walls, collapsed floors, and water leaks—it took two weeks to clear away enough to fully assess the damage. He brought in the construction team who’d originally converted the old, abandoned salt dome into Underland, so they could offer insights as to what had triggered the accident. After they reviewed the layout and blueprints, they determined there must’ve been a weak point in the foundation caused by workers mining for salt decades earlier. This sinkhole effect sucked everything into one of the mining tunnels deep beneath the underground cave.

Their reasoning made more sense than the truth no one could see: that a Wonderland queen had unleashed a cloud of powerful nightmare wraiths that dragged the contents of the activity center into the rabbit hole with such force, half of the cave folded in on itself.

Like I once told Morpheus, most humans would rather believe they’re alone in the universe than ever admit they might have an otherworldly audience. And like he said in response: Their ego is their weakness.

Since the accident, Underland had been abandoned—all the entrances to the giant cave condemned and cordoned off with police tape for public safety. That’s where Jeb’s idea fell into place. He pointed out that a few months before the construction on the activity center began, the mining tunnels had been used for storing bulk goods for a military base close by: wet wipes, first aid kits, combs, dry shampoo, powdered deodorant, toothpaste packets, crates of dehydrated meals, bags of dried soup, and bottled water. He saw inside one once after he started working there, and the supplies had yet to be cleared out.

Thank you, procrastination. Human nature had given us our perfect alibi.

All we had to do was magically maneuver enough stones and debris aside to get into one of the caved-in tunnels. Once there, we could set the scene of Mom and Jeb being trapped for a month and living off the military supplies. It was so simple, which is what made it perfect. The fact that no one had even considered that possibility was mind-boggling. They’d been so busy pursuing the crazy girl’s alleged involvement, no other venue had been explored.

As for me and Dad, our story would be equally simple: I had managed to get his keys and escape the asylum using the gardener’s entrance that day while we were unsupervised in the courtyard. He didn’t have time to run for help, so he chased me and jumped into the truck bed as I was driving away. I took him to Underland . . . and while there, retraced my steps on prom night. Upon seeing the wreckage, a terrifying memory came back to me—of seeing Jeb and Mom get eaten by an avalanche of stones and rippling cement.

I had suppressed it . . . was too traumatized to face their deaths.

Only they weren’t dead. Because while Dad and I wept for them in the darkness amid the debris, we heard a clacking sound and followed it down to a pile of stones covering an opening. We managed to dig our way in and were reunited with Jeb and Mom—but the gap was unstable, and more rocks and pebbles closed us in again: the four of us trapped together.

That’s where Dad and I had been for the past three days.

Jeb’s idea was brilliant. Even Morpheus would’ve been impressed.

So, we had a plan of action, which only required my and Mom’s magic and the two simulacrum suits. Other than that, all we needed was a catalyst: someone to tip off the police as to our possible whereabouts.

That was where Jenara and her Ouija board would come in.

Although it’s morning in Wonderland, it’s nighttime in the human realm. Wrapped in simulacrum suits, my parents enter the portal first, stopping by our house so they can pick up one of Dad’s uniforms and an asylum gown Mom had tucked away. The gown will be for me. We all have to be wearing what we were last seen in, to make the plan work. After Mom and Dad hit the house, their next stop will be Underland, to lay the groundwork for our grand unveiling.

Jeb takes my hand and steadies me as Rabid and I step with him through the long mirror on the back of Jenara’s door into her bedroom. It closes up to a reflective pane of glass, taking with it our view of Ivory and Finley waving good-bye.

We made sure Jenara wasn’t in the room before stepping through. We’re going to have to break this to her in increments. It’ll be enough of a shock at first just to see us alive and safe.

When she’s ready, I’ll show her my netherling traits and powers. Rabid’s here as backup, in case she needs more proof than my wings to convince her that Wonderland is real.

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