Alice Games Read online

  Alice Games

  By

  Michelle R Reid

  Alice Games

  By Michelle R Reid

  Published by Heart Dreams Press

  Copyright © 2018 Michelle R Reid

  Cover Designer: by Fantasy Book Design

  All rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any format of in any medium without written permission. [email protected]

  The views expressed within this work are the sole responsibility of the author and do not represent Heart Dreams Press or any of its affiliates.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are product of the author’s imagination. Any similarities to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments or events are purely coincidental.

  ISBN: 1-942000-30-8

  ISBN: 978-1-942000-30-3

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  How could I concentrate on the campus tour when I was being distracted by a white Playboy bunny?

  The tour had been going so well. I’d figured out where my future dorm was going to be, snagged a bus schedule, made almost two pages of helpful notes, and managed not to draw too much attention to myself as I geeked out over my surroundings. My future. The campus, with its Victorian gothic style red brick buildings almost buried in the rich foliage, was exactly like the picture on the Cornell website. We had just barely entered Milstein Hall when I saw the bunny woman.

  She was just barely visible out of the corner of my eye, ghost-like in her all-white outfit and flesh tones in a humanoid shape with ears flopping over her fluffy, white hair. She walked right in front of the group just as I looked up to the sweeping concrete ceiling so high above our heads.

  Had I really just seen that? I did a double take, turning my head to follow where she’d gone—and looked right into a blank concrete wall. She was gone. Completely. And the rest of the almost twenty people in my tour group were acting like nothing happened. So, either scantily clad women were common at Cornell and I missed the memo, or no one else saw her? Was this a joke to see how long she could do it before someone noticed? There had to be a better way to relieve the stress of finals. Like studying more.

  I barely had time to think about it, though, because the sounds of my tour’s feet slapping on the concrete floor was fading as they kept going without me. I hurried and caught up, missing my chance to really study my surroundings as the tour headed up the two flights of stairs to the mezzanine.

  Just then, out of the corner of my eye, there was a blur of white humanoid. I whipped around, right in the middle of the stairs, to catch her—and my mouth dropped open. She was floating almost ten feet off the side of the mezzanine, and twenty feet in the air. No ropes or strings that I could see. I looked to my classmates, waiting for their reaction, but no one seemed to notice the woman. I turned back, and she was gone.

  What was going on? How was it going on?

  Determined to catch her this time and unravel this joke, I spun to the left, ignoring the looks my fellow tour members gave me. My gaze went down to the cold, hard concrete twenty feet below and my stomach twisted. Why had I looked down? I let out the air frozen in my lungs and forced my heart to slow.

  The rest of the tour attendees weren’t having any problems. They filled the narrow mezzanine corridor and hung over the thick concrete railings, pointing at the university students below or looking out of the panoramic glass walls.

  I gripped my packet of books and mentally shook my head. Honestly, my mind was playing tricks on me. Maybe I was the one that was stressed. Determined not a squander any more precious time, I focused on the tour again.

  “The Milstein Hall is one of the newest buildings to Cornell University,” said Becca, the tour guide, voice echoing around us. There was a perfect perk in her step and bounce in her ponytail. She turned and beamed with pride, her red school shirt as bright as her school spirit. At least the color made her easy to spot. “This is part of the AAP, or Architecture, Art, and Planning College. I think there are a couple future attendees with us now, right?” She pointed to two gangly guys whispering ecstatically to each other and gazing around in awe.

  I had to admit this was an impressive building. It looked like a giant piece of origami, made out of concrete, steel, and glass. Everything was oblong—the railings, the beams, and even the glass panes on the walls. But then there were artistic aspects, like the ceiling that arched down until it touched the ground, with recessed lights that followed the curvature.

  Bubbles of excitement fluttered in my stomach like fireworks. In five months, I’d get to call Cornell University home—though not this exact building. No more high school classes pretending to be college courses and kids whining about how their parents pushed them into it. This was going to be real.

  I saw white out of the corner of my eye again and turned. And came face to face with another girl in the tour.

  She stood so close that her white knit top almost brushed the sleeve of my worn t-shirt. She blinked green eyes, heavy with mascara, confused when I stared her full in the face.

  Her friend cut off her babble about boys and gawked at me too.

  I stepped back to a comfortable distance, trying not to fidget. My hands gripped the tour packet I had been folding and unfolding. “Ah, sorry.” What was I going to say if she asked why I turned? Or could they see the bunny-woman too, but were sophisticated enough not to react?

  The girl waved her hand in dismissal. “It’s okay. I’m Kristin. What are you going to major in, ah ... ?” She stalled for my name.

  Relief bloomed inside. She was actually asking about something I could talk about all day. “Ali. I’m going into botany, with a minor in zoology.”

  Her eyes went blank, interest dying. “Oh, what’s that?”

  “It’s the study of plants.” And obviously not something she could talk about all day. “What about you?”

  “Communications.” She tossed her pretty black hair.

  I nodded slowly, trying not to wince. My worst subject. Sometimes I forgot that Cornell had non-science majors. Well, now what was I supposed to do? She was the kind of person I’d planned to hide from in the science lab.

  Some people go to college to ‘get a life’ or something. Party all the time and wake up hungover every morning. Not me. I just wanted to get in, get done, and get out. When I go to South America after graduation to find some new species and put my name in the history books, any friends or boyfriends I had would be left behind anyway, so why even try to develop deep relationships?

  I reached up and toyed with the thin, white gold chain resting on my collarbone, then forced my hand to grip the straps of my shoulder bag instead as I tried to come up with something to say.

  Kristin’s friend bumped her shoulder. “Hey, we’re moving on.” She grabbed Kristin’s arm and dragged her away. Their shoes clicked on the gray concrete.

  “Okay!” Becca the guide gushed as she walked. “We’re going to make a quick stop at the Milstein’s student lounge bef
ore lunch. You’ll love it! Its fifty feet in the air, extending right over University Avenue. And after that, we’re going to visit the counselors, so while you eat think of questions you want to ask them. If you’ve already been accepted to Cornell—congrats by the way—you can set up your class schedule at that point. Now would be a good time to beat the crowd before all the good classes are filled.”

  A rush of excitement tingled the top of my head and made my heart pump fast. That was it. The reason why I was even on this tour. University seniors had already picked their classes, the rest was first come, first served. Having the right class schedule was vital. One class out of order could be the difference between graduating in three years or four. For eight years, I’d worked so hard for this next step. I had the scholarship set up, board included, and now all I had to do was make sure nothing went wrong.

  I melted into the back of the small crowd. Until lunch was done, the back was fine. As much as I wanted to be front row and learning more about my future, I didn’t know how I would explain getting into someone’s face like that again. No one else seemed to notice that bunny-woman as she popped in and out of sight, either. Was someone playing a joke on me?

  White flashed.

  I spun around and found nothing. Again. This time I was determined not to look down. A frustrated yell was on the tip of my tongue, but I bit it back. It was bad enough that I knew my annoyance was starting to show on my face. I didn’t need to be the center of attention, too.

  I took a deep breath. I shouldn’t be so upset over something like this. Either the bunny-woman would show herself, or she wouldn’t. I had to concentrate on what was important. A young woman running around in a scanty white suit wasn’t.

  The sounds of my group faded. I looked around, alarmed when I saw the last of them disappearing up the top of the stairs leading to the student lounge.

  “This is getting out of hand,” I whispered. I hurried after them, making sure to stay in the exact middle of the mezzanine. I came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs.

  They were two stories high. The textured steel of the stairs and handrails gleamed in the sunlight streaming in through the massive glass wall. The stairs were anchored into the wall with minimal steel support, giving them a pretty—horrifying—floating effect.

  A couple passed me and started up the stairs.

  My brows pulled together, and I took a breath for what seemed like the millionth time in twenty minutes. No big deal. People go up and down every day. And I needed to catch up. Staying exactly in the middle of the wide planks, I kept my eyes on the landing platform and ran up the stairs. It wasn’t until there were only two stairs left that my curiosity got the better of me.

  I glanced down. With nothing to obstruct my view, the concrete was very visible between the steel steps. And very far away.

  I froze on the step as bile rose in the back of my throat. Why did I look down? I knew better. Sucking in a shallow breath, I forced my eyes back to the landing.

  And gasped.

  There she was. After twenty minutes of torture, the Playboy bunny was standing in full view on the landing right in front of me.

  I was shocked enough to almost forget I was four stories high.

  The beautiful woman was at least six feet tall, not counting her white, six-inch stilettos. Her hourglass figure was squeezed into a white leotard that showed off her long legs. Her lips were frost pink. The base of her white floppy bunny ears was cleverly hidden in her fluffy, bleached blonde curls.

  Her head cocked to the side and she smiled, dark eyes pleasantly happy. “Hello, Alice. You were quite hard to find.” Her voice was low and mature despite her youthful appearance.

  I blinked at her, mouth open. “What? How do you know my name?” Or at least, my real name. I threw my hands in the air. “Never mind. Listen, I’m busy right now. This is important—”

  “Yes, I know. Very important. We’ve been expecting you.” The bunny kept smiling brightly as her hands shot out and hit my shoulders, shoving me backwards.

  Chapter Two

  I screamed as I pitched backward into the air. My bag slid off my shoulder and hit the stairs first with a thump. For a second, all I could see were the curved lights above.

  Then wind swirled around me, ripping at my hair and clothes so hard and fast that I choked. My mouth closed and my arms came up to shield my face. I was falling. I knew I was falling, and I had two flights of steel stairs to go down.

  But it didn’t feel like I was going down. It was like being in a wind tunnel, the cold air spinning around and around, offset by random hot blasts. It spun me in circles like a human bullet. I tried to keep my eyes open, desperate to see what was going on, but the wind blinded me, drying out my eyes and making them water. The world spun by in a blur of green. My stomach churned, and I closed my eyes, waiting for the pain.

  It never came.

  The breath whooshed out of me when I landed flat on my stomach, head on my arms. It hurt, but it wasn’t as jarring as I expected a twenty-foot fall to be. For all the force I felt, I could have just tripped over my feet.

  “Alice?” a soft female voice mumbled.

  I lay on carpet, thick enough to bury my fingers in. Was that right? I should be lying on cold concrete. There wasn’t anything this homey in the Milstein building. Instead of the sterile smell of concrete and steel, the scent of wood, old books, and roses wafted over me. How was that possible?

  “Alice?” It wasn’t the voice of the woman who’d pushed me; it was too sweet and dignified. “Open your eyes, please.”

  Could I? I didn’t know that I wanted to. I opened my eyes a little bit, expecting to see a lot of people—the paramedics, students, police, and random bystanders taking pictures on their phones—but there were none of those. Just one girl.

  Well, she was the height of a girl, but in every other way she was a woman. Her perfectly beautiful, heart-shaped face held the look of eternal youth, but her petite figure wasn’t girlish. She wore a multicolored dress any Disney princess would envy. The trim bodice had a square neckline, and the sparkly skirt flared out until the base was wider than she was tall. Her sleeves, made out of the same sparkly material as the skirt, puffed into balls at her shoulders. Thick, curly brown hair fell to her waist.

  I blinked at her, completely confused. “You definitely don’t look like a nurse.” Was I dreaming?

  Her rose-red, perfectly shaped lips curved up in a smile. “No, I’m not. Hello, Alice. My name is Red Queen. Nice to meet you.”

  I shifted into a sitting position.

  We were in a den. A large wooden desk took up most of the wall to my right. The other walls were covered in bookshelves that outlined an elaborate fireplace, where a warm fire crackled. That fire was the only visible light, but still the room was brighter than I expected.

  The only explanation I could think of was I had hurt myself falling and this was a dream my mind created to cope with the injury. It must be a dream, because there were no irises in Red Queen’s huge brown eyes. At all.

  “Ali,” I mumbled, my mind still trying to connect the dots of how I got here. Unfortunately, there were way too may gaps for me to come to a conclusion.

  Her black lashes fluttered in a blink. “Pardon me?”

  “Call me Ali. Alice is my mother’s name.” Her introductions finally registered in my head, distracting me from my surroundings. “Did you say ‘Red Queen?’?”

  She bobbed a tiny curtsy and delicately touched a cute little crown on top of her dark curls. A large ruby gleamed from twisted golden cords in the firelight. “Yes, Alice—ah, I mean, Ali. I am the ruler of—”

  “Let me guess,” I said in a flat voice. My whole life, people have teased me about white bunnies and red roses. It doesn’t matter that I don’t even look like the classic Alice, with my brown hair and brown eyes. “Wonderland or Underland or whatever.” First a white Playboy bunny, now this? What was going on?

  Her brows wrinkled. “No.” Her right hand came up a
nd cupped her cheek. “I’ve never heard of Underland, although several other Alices have called this world Wonderland. Its correct name is Oz.”

  I stared at her for a whole minute. Where did I start with the questions? Other Alices? As in, there’d been lots of them? It seemed safer to stay on subject. “Oz? Like Dorothy and the Wizard?”

  She frowned and looked at the ground. My question obviously troubled her. “I don’t know what a dorothy is, but here in the Ruby Castle, we prefer not to talk about White Wizard. He is ... well, we like to keep things peaceful here.” Her voice wobbled. She pressed her lips into a tight line and began to pace, tapping her fingertips together. Did she look a little paler in the firelight?

  This was crazy. “I can’t believe I came up with such a weird dream.” I dropped my face into my hands. Please tell me I was in a hospital bed, hallucinating from some medication. “I don’t have time to be dreaming, I have to pick out my classes.” The sound of Red Queen’s dress as it swooshed across the carpet stopped in front of me. She waited until I looked up, then reached out and pinched my cheek. Hard.

  “Ow!” I jumped and covered my cheek with my hand, alarmed on so many levels. You can’t get hurt in dreams, right? I was no dream expert, but doesn’t that just wake you up? However, despite the way my cheek throbbed, I was still staring at this tiny woman. But that wasn’t possible.

  “Ali.” She stared at me very seriously. “This isn’t a dream. It’s a game.” There was nothing girlish about her now. “One that will affect the lives of everyone in Oz.” Red Queen paused, looking intently into my eyes. “It will undoubtedly affect your life too.” Suddenly, she smiled as bright as the sun. “So let’s get dressed.”

  “Dressed?”

  “Of course. You can’t possibly go to the party in those—ah.” She pointed to my pants. “Whatever those are.”

  “Jeans?” I fingered the well-worn material. “I’d rather stay in them.”