His yolk-yellow eyes, red nose and wide mouth remind me so much of the egg-man I met in Wonderland, I can’t help but blurt the name. “Humphrey?”
“Hardly,” comes the sour answer. “Name’s Hubert. Didn’t anyone ever teach you how to make a proper acquaintance?”
Wow. He even sounds like Humphrey. I squint. “Uhhh . . .”
“Well, are you going to sit there with your brain idling, or are you going to order some fare?” One praying-mantis arm straightens the collar beneath his chin, while the other balances a tray with a pad and pen as he awaits my answer.
“You’re his brother, aren’t you?” I ask, pushing aside the menu. The yeasty bread smells too good to resist so I grab a roll and sink my teeth in.
Hubert’s cheeks burn red. “Oh, I see. Since we’re all the same shape and color, we must all be related, right? An egg by any other name and all that rot.”
“Well, no. Since you work here, and the place is named after him.” I take another bite of my yeasty roll. “Figured it was a family thing.”
“Firstly,” he snorts, “I’d ask that you not speak with your mouth so full of bread. And secondly, if you’ll take a look at the menu, the inn is called ‘Humphrey’s and Hubert’s.’ Centuries of lazy-tongued patrons shortened it. But it’s right there in print, so see that you don’t.”
“So you’re business partners.”
“That would be a were.”
I wince. “Right. I’m sorry, I just thought—”
“Psssh. I know all about you and your dastardly thoughts.” He waves his buglike arm. “You’re the one who plugged up the rabbit hole.”
My own cheeks grow warm as the latest bite of bread forms a doughy lump, almost too big to swallow. “Th-th-that was an accident.”
“An accident.” The flush of Hubert’s cheeks bleeds into his whole face and body. I worry he might explode, sending his beaded embellishments ricocheting off the cushioned walls and floors like bullets. “An accident like the one that broke Humphrey’s shell and caused him to be exiled to the garden of souls? An accident like that?”
Thumping the prongs of my fork against the breadbasket, I frown. “Well, yeah. He fell off a wall. And later he tripped over Chessie’s head.”
“Pushed. He was pushed off that wall. By your great-great-great-grandmother. All so Humphrey would crack atop Rabid White. All so his innards could coddle that little fellow’s flesh. Eat it away so Queen Red could ‘save’ him.”
I shake my head. “What happened to Rabid was an evil spell . . .”
“Oh, it was evil. But it was no spell. Our innards are like acid. Unless you possess the curative potion. Which of course Red just happened to have on hand, conveniently.” He huffs. “Why did you think Humphrey was in Sister One’s keep at the cemetery? Simply for his soul? He had so many cracks after falling twice, he could no longer be patched. He was a danger. It’s why everything here is cushioned, so I might not bring the same fate upon my patrons.”
Hubert’s Fabergé-egg appearance makes sense now. He’s patched himself up. At the first appearance of any crack in his shell, he glues something else in place.
“But that’s not logical,” I say, all the while knowing things rarely are where Wonderland is concerned. “Red manufacturing an accident just to have Rabid in her pocket? Someone that powerful would’ve had willing subjects left and right.”
A loud grunt bursts from the pit below. I glance down to see Dad helping his brother to his feet. The other knights gather around Dad and congratulate him. They’re all smiling and laughing, even Uncle Bernie.
Hubert shoves the menu into my fingertips.
“You seem to know a lot about what happened with Queen Red,” I stall, glaring up at him.
He scowls. “I heard it from the source. Your great-great-great-grandmother visited my inn. Her compatriot, Rabid, came with her. He told me his story, how she saved him. But I already knew the truth, because Humphrey had told me that she pushed him.”
“You’re saying Red came here. To the human realm. Do you mean after she’d been banished from Wonderland?” Even before the question leaves my lips, I know that can’t be right. Red would’ve been wearing her Alice imprint if it had been after her banishment, living the life of a small human girl.
“She came here while she still ruled,” Hubert corrects. “Long before the Alice brat wormed her way into the rabbit hole and caused all the mayhem and Red’s downfall.”
My tongue dries. I take a gulp of water. “Why would Red have come to the human realm before the Alice incident?”
“Are you daft? She visited because she was lonely. Her husband was betraying her. Seemed like she forgot herself after that, along with the kindness her royal parents had once instilled. She even forgot how to make friends of her own kind.”
Red’s disgruntled and discarded memories shadow my thoughts. Hubert doesn’t know how right he is about her forgetfulness, or how deliberate it was.
“The only way she could believe someone was loyal,” the egg-man continues, “was if they were indebted to her. Seems that’s the only way anyone in your bloodline can secure devotion. Just as you did by closing up the rabbit hole. Now we’re all dependent on you to open a way back, so we can’t possibly shrink you to bug size and squash you under our shoes as we’d like.”
Hubert’s voice is shrill and echoing. The lizard creature and his woolly companion snap their gazes to us. The moment they see me, they grimace.
“I’m nothing like Red,” I growl, surprised at the rage behind the words.
Although, technically, I did bully the carpet beetle conductor to get my way . . . and I did force my dad to eat a mushroom and ride a butterfly across the world to London. But it was for the greater good.
I clamp my jaw. “I’m not a tyrant like her. I’m just . . . determined.”
“As was she. Determined to improve our world. She went so far as to study the humans, as if they’re better than us somehow. Something we should aspire to be.” The egg-man looks over my shoulder. “Those wings aren’t the only proof of your heritage. You’re a traitor, sending us all up river so you could save your petty mortal half. You’re nothing short of a—”
“Hardly,” comes the sour answer. “Name’s Hubert. Didn’t anyone ever teach you how to make a proper acquaintance?”
Wow. He even sounds like Humphrey. I squint. “Uhhh . . .”
“Well, are you going to sit there with your brain idling, or are you going to order some fare?” One praying-mantis arm straightens the collar beneath his chin, while the other balances a tray with a pad and pen as he awaits my answer.
“You’re his brother, aren’t you?” I ask, pushing aside the menu. The yeasty bread smells too good to resist so I grab a roll and sink my teeth in.
Hubert’s cheeks burn red. “Oh, I see. Since we’re all the same shape and color, we must all be related, right? An egg by any other name and all that rot.”
“Well, no. Since you work here, and the place is named after him.” I take another bite of my yeasty roll. “Figured it was a family thing.”
“Firstly,” he snorts, “I’d ask that you not speak with your mouth so full of bread. And secondly, if you’ll take a look at the menu, the inn is called ‘Humphrey’s and Hubert’s.’ Centuries of lazy-tongued patrons shortened it. But it’s right there in print, so see that you don’t.”
“So you’re business partners.”
“That would be a were.”
I wince. “Right. I’m sorry, I just thought—”
“Psssh. I know all about you and your dastardly thoughts.” He waves his buglike arm. “You’re the one who plugged up the rabbit hole.”
My own cheeks grow warm as the latest bite of bread forms a doughy lump, almost too big to swallow. “Th-th-that was an accident.”
“An accident.” The flush of Hubert’s cheeks bleeds into his whole face and body. I worry he might explode, sending his beaded embellishments ricocheting off the cushioned walls and floors like bullets. “An accident like the one that broke Humphrey’s shell and caused him to be exiled to the garden of souls? An accident like that?”
Thumping the prongs of my fork against the breadbasket, I frown. “Well, yeah. He fell off a wall. And later he tripped over Chessie’s head.”
“Pushed. He was pushed off that wall. By your great-great-great-grandmother. All so Humphrey would crack atop Rabid White. All so his innards could coddle that little fellow’s flesh. Eat it away so Queen Red could ‘save’ him.”
I shake my head. “What happened to Rabid was an evil spell . . .”
“Oh, it was evil. But it was no spell. Our innards are like acid. Unless you possess the curative potion. Which of course Red just happened to have on hand, conveniently.” He huffs. “Why did you think Humphrey was in Sister One’s keep at the cemetery? Simply for his soul? He had so many cracks after falling twice, he could no longer be patched. He was a danger. It’s why everything here is cushioned, so I might not bring the same fate upon my patrons.”
Hubert’s Fabergé-egg appearance makes sense now. He’s patched himself up. At the first appearance of any crack in his shell, he glues something else in place.
“But that’s not logical,” I say, all the while knowing things rarely are where Wonderland is concerned. “Red manufacturing an accident just to have Rabid in her pocket? Someone that powerful would’ve had willing subjects left and right.”
A loud grunt bursts from the pit below. I glance down to see Dad helping his brother to his feet. The other knights gather around Dad and congratulate him. They’re all smiling and laughing, even Uncle Bernie.
Hubert shoves the menu into my fingertips.
“You seem to know a lot about what happened with Queen Red,” I stall, glaring up at him.
He scowls. “I heard it from the source. Your great-great-great-grandmother visited my inn. Her compatriot, Rabid, came with her. He told me his story, how she saved him. But I already knew the truth, because Humphrey had told me that she pushed him.”
“You’re saying Red came here. To the human realm. Do you mean after she’d been banished from Wonderland?” Even before the question leaves my lips, I know that can’t be right. Red would’ve been wearing her Alice imprint if it had been after her banishment, living the life of a small human girl.
“She came here while she still ruled,” Hubert corrects. “Long before the Alice brat wormed her way into the rabbit hole and caused all the mayhem and Red’s downfall.”
My tongue dries. I take a gulp of water. “Why would Red have come to the human realm before the Alice incident?”
“Are you daft? She visited because she was lonely. Her husband was betraying her. Seemed like she forgot herself after that, along with the kindness her royal parents had once instilled. She even forgot how to make friends of her own kind.”
Red’s disgruntled and discarded memories shadow my thoughts. Hubert doesn’t know how right he is about her forgetfulness, or how deliberate it was.
“The only way she could believe someone was loyal,” the egg-man continues, “was if they were indebted to her. Seems that’s the only way anyone in your bloodline can secure devotion. Just as you did by closing up the rabbit hole. Now we’re all dependent on you to open a way back, so we can’t possibly shrink you to bug size and squash you under our shoes as we’d like.”
Hubert’s voice is shrill and echoing. The lizard creature and his woolly companion snap their gazes to us. The moment they see me, they grimace.
“I’m nothing like Red,” I growl, surprised at the rage behind the words.
Although, technically, I did bully the carpet beetle conductor to get my way . . . and I did force my dad to eat a mushroom and ride a butterfly across the world to London. But it was for the greater good.
I clamp my jaw. “I’m not a tyrant like her. I’m just . . . determined.”
“As was she. Determined to improve our world. She went so far as to study the humans, as if they’re better than us somehow. Something we should aspire to be.” The egg-man looks over my shoulder. “Those wings aren’t the only proof of your heritage. You’re a traitor, sending us all up river so you could save your petty mortal half. You’re nothing short of a—”
