Unhinged (Splintered, #2)(107)
“Crap.” I bend down to pick up the pieces that are scattered beside a small potted flower I didn’t notice before. It’s a buttercup, strangely out of place here, yellow petals reflecting in the ultraviolet setting like a yield sign struck by headlights. There’s something glowing inside the pot, too, just atop the soil. I lean down and find a half-eaten mushroom, the freckled side gone.
“My child.” A husky purr erupts from the flower’s center. One of the leaves grabs a strand of my silver wig before I can pull back, holding me hunched in place. Rows of eyes open and blink on every petal.
“Red,” I whisper.
She starts to grow along with the pot, a slow and torturous transformation. The spiny teeth in her mouth snarl. “Let’s get a look at you,” she says, as tall as my thigh now and still growing. Her leafy arms and fingers stretch and knot through my wig, holding me close to her gruesome face. “What happened to your hair?” she scolds, obviously displeased. Her breath smells like wilted flowers. “How dare you despoil my vessel.”
“I am not your vessel.” I rip free, letting my mask, wig, and scalp cap flop off. My real hair cascades all around my shoulders—a mass of tangles. I take one step back before my crimson strand jerks against my scalp, dragging me toward Red, as if remembering she created it, as if wanting to let her inside again. I freeze, that fingerprint on my heart incapacitating.
“Ah, better.” Red’s spiny, slimy teeth curl into a smile as she grows tall enough to look me in the eye. “That’s the welcome I expected.” She catches the restless strand of hair with a leafy hand. “I’ll always be part of you.” My body feels the intrusion, as if she’s draining all my blood and filling my veins with hers.
Gathering my wits, I shove her stalk, and she topples, losing her grip on my hair as she hits the floor, pot overturned and leaves rattling. Her mental hold is broken.
“You’ll never be part of me again.” I shake off the attempted possession.
Growling, she rolls on the floor, then uses her vinelike arms to drag herself toward me. Soil spills out of the overturned pot, and she pauses, staring at it. Her hundreds of eyes glare up at me. “Help me or suffer my wrath.”
“Right,” I mutter sarcastically, the netherling in me taking over. The memory of my confrontation with the flowers last year in Wonderland returns. “You can pick up roots, but you can’t move unless you’re connected to the soil. Not the smartest choice, showing up in a cement cave.” I sidestep her attempt to grab at me, heartbeat hopeful. That must be why she didn’t bring the flower fae … why she chose the toys as her army. “I say you just lie there and rot.”
Seething, she lengthens her arms. The leaves protruding from her vines slap the floor next to my feet, an inch away from snagging me. I withdraw farther, watching, almost pitying her helplessness. But I know better. There’s nothing helpless about her, and mercy has no place on the battlefield.
I need to dispose of her, permanently—send her back to the cemetery to stay, although I’m not sure how to get her there. Maybe Morpheus has a plan. I’ll incapacitate her somehow … hold her here until he can help me.
Ripping an extension cord from the wall, I stand back far enough to stay out of her reach and guide the cord with my mind as if I were casting a fishing line. I catch her, then roll her up in it so she can’t move. It’s satisfying being on the giving end of this trick for once.
She growls, struggling in the binds. “Stubborn twit. I’m not the enemy. Do you not realize, I am the only way for you to keep the Red kingdom? Your mother wishes to steal it from you. She’s lied all these years. She wants the crown. Actually tried to win it once. You didn’t know that, did you?”
“I know everything about my family.” Thanks to Morpheus.
I continue wrapping her in the electric cord. If I hadn’t seen my father and mother’s memory, I might actually have fallen for Red’s lie. As it is, her false accusations only make me angrier. I’d electrocute her if it would have any effect.
She grumbles as I finish knotting the cord and ease back another step.
“The spider lurks in the shadows,” Red grumbles. “She wants to give your fairy-tale prince a different ending this time. Release me and I’ll tell you where she hides.”
Sister Two?
I lift my dress hem and run out, leaving Red incapacitated.
“Catch the girl and wake the trees!” Red shouts. The toys on the wall rattle their packaging to break free.
Wake the trees. Those words are a sick validation for my earlier premonition. Those frowns I saw were more than wood grains.
Jeb sees me run from the arcade entrance and tries to maneuver through the crowd. There’s no time to get Mom. I have to clear out the place before the toys escape and humans get eaten by tulgey wood.
I stare up at the purplish fluorescent black lights on the endless ceiling, envisioning the bulbs on the sprinklers, pretending that they’re rosebuds in a garden, waiting to bloom. I imagine a nurturing rain, their petals opening wide in a push for life.
Popping spreads from one side of the cave to the other, followed by a fall of cold water sweeping in until my hair and clothing stick to my skin. The crowd’s reaction is instantaneous. Screaming girls and cursing guys push their way to the ramps, while others race around, trying to salvage costumes and food.