Chester Cheshire grinwild's Arc

Chapter 8 of 15

Chester led Rapunzel down through the purple leaves to the cobblestone square. She held her ring of iron keys against her chest and let her hair drag behind her in a long brown river. The raven flew ahead. Behind them, the shelf in the study clicked shut, and Chester heard small footsteps catching up. He did not turn. He smiled wider and walked faster, because he wanted her at the table before she could change her mind. The winding table was already set. Harrietta sat in her chair near the middle, arms crossed, a fresh stack of cups in front of her. Chester did not ask how she got there first. Above the table, the thirteen escaped books drifted in slow circles, wings ticking like pages in wind. Chester clapped once. "Everyone," he said, "this is Rapunzel. She is staying for tea." Harrietta's ears twitched. The raven landed on the back of her chair. The books dipped lower to look. Chester walked Rapunzel to a tall white chair carved with vines and flowers. "Yours," he said. In front of it stood a cake shaped like a tower, three tiers high, pink icing dripping down the sides, sugar windows lit from inside, tiny doors at the base. Rapunzel stopped. She counted the windows under her breath. "Seven," she said. "There are seven windows. My tower had one." She sat down slowly and set her keys on the cloth. They poured tea. Harrietta drank without looking at Chester. Rapunzel cut a small piece of the cake and held it on her fork. One of the books overhead dove at the teapot, caught a wing on the spout, and knocked it sideways. Hot tea poured across the cloth. Two more books crashed into the sugar bowl. Cubes skittered down the table. Harrietta shouted and pulled her cups close. Chester laughed and waved a hand; the spill curled back into the pot on its own. Rapunzel did not flinch. She was still looking at the cake. "I could make these," she said. "Bigger. With real doors. People could walk inside one." Chester turned to her. He pictured it without meaning to: a crooked shop with purple icing for a roof, warm windows, a sign that swung in no wind. The square shifted. A building pushed up from the cobbles at the end of the table, purple frosting dripping from its eaves, a painted sign reading WonderWhisk above the door. Rapunzel stood up and clapped. She walked straight to it, opened the door, and went inside. Chester heard her counting ovens. Harrietta stared at him across the ruined cloth, and the raven tilted its head. Chester sat down hard in his chair, grinning. Rapunzel was not asking to leave. She was asking where to put the flour. He had given her a reason to stay, and the table had grown by one more permanent guest.