Christmas in Wonderland: The 7th Day of Splintered

Seventh stop: The Ocean of Tears and the Zombie Flower Forest

On the seventh day of Splintered, we skid along a sheet of frozen tears. What was once a pond has swollen to an ocean; it’s apparent why the Flower Fae never made it to Morpheus’s Christmas party! They tried to cross, and were captured in the fray at the moment the ocean froze. No worries, they’ll thaw when spring comes to Wonderland. On the upside, the flowers are no longer a danger to us in this state.

If you’re curious how flowers can possibly pose a threat to anyone, here’s an excerpt from chapter 7 of Splintered when Alyssa and Jeb stumble into the garden-forest:

***

Snarling, Jeb slips his arms from the backpack. “Whatever. Let’s just do this. We’re smaller than the stinking flowers for crying out—”

“The boy thinks we stink, Ambrosia,” a craggy, witch-like voice erupts out of nowhere. Movement sweeps along the garden, as if wind blows the blooms.

Jeb and I hedge backward, nearly tripping over the fallen bag. 

One of the giant daisies bends low, casting us in a long, blue shadow. A distorted mouth widens in the flower’s yellow center and rows of eyes blink on every petal. “That he did, Redolence. The nerve,” she says. “After all, if anyone stinks, it would be him. We haven’t any sweat glands.”

Jeb drags me behind him, reversing our direction. “Ummm. Al? I’m not the only one seeing a talking flower, right?”

I clutch his waist, heartbeat pounding into his spine. “You get used to it.” I try to suppress the panic stabbing me.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I don’t have the chance to answer because Jeb crashes us into a huge stem. 

A nasturtium leans down, snarling. A hundred gray eyes nestle on her bright orange petals. “Watch where you’re going, would you?”

Some dandelions bob the fuzz on their heads, scolding us. Tiny eyeballs protrude off of their tufted seeds like snail’s antennae.

I gulp back a scream as they all start talking at once:

“How long has it been since we’ve had such delectable visitors?”

“Our living-backward-years, or their moving-forward-years?”

“Doesn’t matter really. I was more just making a point.”

Jeb eases us into a small clearing in the midst of the multi-eyed creatures and turns me to face him. “Did they just call us delectable?”

To learn more Wonderland mysteries, tune in to Book Hounds YA blog tomorrow. We’ll be meeting Wonderland’s Secret Keeper. Maybe we can talk her into sharing some secrets, or at the very least, a prize…


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