The first sign it was over wasn’t Evander’s grin. It was the table.

  The warmth in my stomach-real warmth, not pretend comfort- spread slowly through my ribs like the world had finally decided I was allowed to keep breathing. My hands were steady. My pulse didn’t feel like it was trying to claw out of my throat. For a moment… I almost felt human. Then the dishes started sliding. Not from the wind. Not from someone’s hands. The cups drifted outward, one by one, gliding to the edges of the wood like offerings being cleared off an altar. Plates followed, scraping softly, arranging themselves into two neat lines that ran down the entire length of the table-left and right- like the table was making room for something else.

  I stared, “What is happening?” I looked down at the table and watched the dishes move aside without falling off. Neat and deliberate, like the table knew where everything belonged. It looked like they were making… a path?

  “Oh,” The fae’s wings twitched. “I guess it’s time,” she whispered, voice tight. She sat up straighter; wand clutched like it might disappear again if she blinked too long.

  Evander leaned back in his chair, delighted. “It’s definitely time.”

  Hatter swore under his breath. He was hovering near the rabbits like he expected the world to lunge at them. Houdini was already in attack mode-ears pinned, eyes hard and staring down the length of the table like he could see something none of us wanted to name.

  The Seer laughed softly, and the sound made my skin crawl because it carried too much relief, “We’re moving,” she murmured. She moved from the rabbits and started to glide back towards the edge of the forest and table. The Seer drifted toward the willow tree like it was calling her- stroking its hanging trails with the tenderness of recognition.

  “What?” I snapped. “Moving where? We just, we just got here!” I laughed nervously; I must figure out how to sneak away with the buns.

  Evander tapped his chessboard once. The pieces snapped into a perfect line, then the entire board folded in on itself and vanished into thin air like it had never existed. “Oh, love,” he purred. “You didn’t get here. You were paused here.” He smiled wider- crescent moon wide. “Intermission’s over.” His smile is almost cruel.

  The fireflies around the clearing flickered in sync, as if they’d been waiting for his permission to breathe. The forest made that sound again- that long, deep exhale and suddenly I understood something I didn’t want to. The table hadn’t been feeding us- it had been holding us, keeping us in place. The teapot gave a small innocent whistle, like a lullaby trying to pretend it wasn’t a warning. My stomach tightened so hard it hurt.

  The food changed. The stew in my cup darkened, thickened and turned glossy like wet earth. The bread went soft, too soft, collapsing into green, fuzzy moss. Fruit dulled into mushrooms that glowed faintly, painted in bright poisonous colors like candy meant to trick children. I shoved my cup away, knocking it over, “Nope.” A bright green ooze poured onto the table, turning into a moss patch.

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  “You can’t do that,” Evander said cheerfully.

  “I can do whatever I want.” Dead silence. I laughed again, trying to convince myself I had control over what was getting ready to happen.

  He leaned forward, voice lowering into something that sounded like a nightmare dressed as a joke. “Not in Wonderland.”

  Hatter’s chair scraped the floor, “Leave her alone.” He picked up the chair like he was going to throw it at Evander. Evander rolled his eyes like Hatter was being dramatic at the theater.

  “I’m not touching her. The world is.” He flicked his fingers at the center of the table and the runner cloth. The long strip of fabric draped like decoration, lifted. It didn’t float like cloth; it moved like fog. It stretched forward, lengthening beyond the end of the table and spilling into the dark trees, weaving itself between trunks like it had always belonged there. A road made of tea-table linen. A road turning into a misty fog.

  My throat went dry. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” It was a path forward, but I wanted to go backwards!

  “No,” the fae whispered, eyes wide with tired dread. “This is what happens when you pass.”

  “When you survive.” Hatter’s jaw clenched as he set the chair back down.

  “When you’re ACCEPTED,” the Seer sang, too bright again- too wrong. She opened her arms big and wide like she was accepting the sky above. “The world stops pretending you can stay safe.” The plates lined along the left and right edges of the table, perfectly spaced; were now starting to misshape and sink. Sink slowly, gently, inevitably. Where they had disappeared, patches of moss rose in their place. It spread like a soft green blanket of beautiful infection. Mushrooms bloomed and popped through the cracks, glowing dimly like stars that had fallen into dirt. The table was becoming a path. And that path was becoming a thick forest.

  My legs felt numb. “So what? We… we walk it?" I can't possibly run away right now. The panic felt like someone was grabbing me by the throat, quickly making my heart race. Evander clapped once, and the sound hit the clearing like a bell being rung inside the world itself. The shadows under the table slithered away, retreating like they’d been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to.

  “Rule Zero,” Evander announced brightly. “You don’t choose the Road.” The air did a final snap, and it felt like the invisible hand loosened its grip. “You only choose whether to keep walking.” A tarot card appeared on the moss like it grew there; the Tower stared up at me like a verdict. The forest inhaled around us and the path, the table and now road- tilted forward like the world was luring us into the next chapter.

  Frankie thumped once, hard. Houdini bared his teeth at the darkness ahead. Hatter stepped closer to me- a little too close. It was not in a protective way either- it was like a terrible revelation had struck him. I looked to his eyes, but they weren’t on the road in the short distance. They were on the table right in front of us- like he’d just noticed a missing step in a spell. “Wait,” he said.

  Evander’s grin sharpened. “Oh?” He tapped his fingers together lightly.

  “Why is it opening already?” Hatter’s voice was low and rough.

  My stomach dropped. “What do you mean?”

  Hatter didn’t look at me at first. He looked at the road- as if it offended him. “It shouldn’t,” he muttered. “Not yet.” The fae’s wings stilled. Her wand dimmed like it was holding its breath. The Seer blinked once. Twice. Too many times, too fast.

  Evander leaned forward like a man about to announce the best part of a show. “Tell her,” he whispered, delighted. Evander then gripped the arms of his chair like he was going to explode out of it like a cannon.

  Hatter swallowed. “The Tower—” His throat worked like the words were shards. “The Tower doesn’t let you leave without taking something first.”