Splintered

  I land on my stomach in a pool of fetid slime, hoop skirt bubbling above me. “Take my hands!” I stretch my arms and lace his fingers with mine, but he pries them away.

  “No, Alyssa! The test! Get the vorpal sword … free the smile—”

  The tongues lug him offstage and toward the slobbering mouth. His wings wither against his back, caught up in the appendage wrapped around his waist. His hat flutters to the ground.

  I struggle to stand with the contraption beneath my skirts, rocking back and forth until momentum gives me ground. As soon as I’m on my feet, I spin around and lift the glass lid. The vorpal sword’s handle feels warm even through my gloves. Everywhere I touch, I leave prints glowing blue on the silver metal.

  A shout draws my attention back to the fight. Graceful and lethal, the elfin knights catapult onto the bandersnatch’s back, hacking away at its hide with their swords in vain. The card guards spring into action. They perform elaborate feats of acrobatic skill to build a card tower above the beast’s head. Then they topple and prick at his tongues with their spears on the way down.

  Their combined efforts help Morpheus escape the tongue at his waist. He dives to the floor, flapping his wings for leverage against the other two appendages still on his ankles. The bandersnatch thrashes. The card guards flutter like leaves caught in wind and slap against the walls. The beast bucks again, toppling three of the elves. They hit the floor, knocked out cold, swords spinning next to them with grating sounds.

  Urgency surges through me. Fingers clamped on the vorpal sword’s handle, I gut the teddy bear’s stomach seam. Stuffing bulges and parts as something struggles to push its way out.

  Morpheus wails. The knights and card guards litter the floor, all of them either unconscious, wounded, or dead. Eelish and slimy, the tongues writhe against Morpheus, holding him upside down. The bandersnatch’s lower jaw unhinges and widens to a chasm, preparing to swallow his prey whole.

  Chessie still hasn’t emerged from his prison of stuffing. Tucking the bear into my bodice, I grab the cello bow and vorpal sword, then flap my wings and take to the air. I don’t even care how high I am. Hovering over the snarling mass of monster, I shout down at Morpheus, “Catch!” I balance the sword just over his raised hand and drop it.

  With lightning reflexes, he snags the handle and slashes the blade in three sweeps, slicing the head off one tongue. The creature bellows and releases Morpheus, who joins me in midair. Below, our attacker slinks back to its pen, howling.

  Hair a mess and clothes slimed and rumpled, Morpheus tucks the vorpal sword into his lapel and nods his gratitude. Together, we descend. My feet have barely touched ground when the teddy bear in my bodice jerks against me, dragging me toward the beast’s pen.

  “Chessie’s trying to get to his other half!” Morpheus shouts.

  It’s as if someone has caught me on a fishing line and is reeling me in. Morpheus tries to grab me, but it’s too late. I’m shuffled into the pen to face the bandersnatch. My knees start to give as he circles me, looming and snarling, his incapacitated tongue dragging on the floor and dripping green blood.

  “Free the smile, Alyssa!” Morpheus swoops into the pen to distract the beast.

  Shaking all over, I slide the toy from my bodice and drop it. An orange glow drifts up from the torn seam. The bandersnatch softens its growls, mesmerized by the light.

  Cello bow clenched in my hand, I wait and wonder …

  The orange glow grows from the size and shape of a penny to that of a football. Emerald green eyes with slitted pupils appear, and a bulbous nose follows in the center. Lastly, a smile bursts into view—glaring white like Nurse Poppins’s at the asylum—with whiskers stretched above either side.

  Another orange light answers from inside the bandersnatch’s stomach. It illuminates the creature’s undigested victims. The silhouettes of winged beings, big and small, flutter inside like a morbid baby mobile, casting shadows on the wall of his gut.

  The beast holds his head low in silence, somehow aware of the change going on inside him. Chessie’s orange head flips around to face me and morphs into an hourglass shape, whiskers stretching vertically over his teeth to form bow strings.

  A cello …

  “Be the bridge,” Morpheus instructs me. “Subdue the beast.”

  I reach up for the floating orange instrument and coax it down. Leaning against a wall, I drag the bow over the whiskers, choosing a simple song we used to play in band to warm up. But it’s not my notes that come out of the smile. Chessie’s voice sings a melody, melancholy and contagious, and soon I find myself humming as I continue to accompany him—though I’ve never heard the tune.

  The bandersnatch’s eyes grow heavy. His legs bend, no longer able to hold his weight. With a loud, sloughing sound, he rolls onto his side, snoring. The light inside his stomach ascends through his esophagus, leaving the fluttering silhouettes to their prison.

  Morpheus lands on the ground and drapes an arm around me. Still asleep, the bandersnatch hiccups, releasing the glowing orange bubble. My “cello” breaks free to unite with its other half, and when the bubble bursts, Chessie is in one piece, hovering in midair. He shifts into a tiny creature with orange and gray stripes—more a mix between a raccoon and a hummingbird than a cat. The smile on his face widens as he winks at me, nods to Morpheus, then vanishes with one swish of a striped furry tail.

  My legs are weak, and my body is numb all over. Morpheus escorts me out of the sleeping bandersnatch’s pen, shutting and bolting the gate to hold the chained creature within. “After such a battle with magic, he should sleep until morning, I would think.”

  The surviving guards and knights applaud.

  Morpheus turns to them, one arm supporting my waist. “See to your wounded. Leave the dead for now. I shall ready Alyssa and the crown. Gather the courts and witnesses in the throne room. We will have the coronation shortly.”

  The able-bodied drag away the injured and close the door, leaving us in the domed room with their dead. I can’t look at the bodies, sickened that they had to die for me.

  Sensing my frayed emotions, Morpheus opens his arms. Without hesitation, I turn into his embrace and hug him in the moonlight. The vorpal sword’s handle presses against my ribs under his jacket, and I battle the temptation to slide it out and cut his throat. But I can’t. Not after what he did.

  “You jumped in front of me,” I whisper. “You could’ve died.”

  “You saved me back. So we’re even.” He says the last word in his most humble voice, just like when I used to beat him at games when we were little.

  I clench his jacket and pull him hard against me, nose buried in his chest. I don’t know how to put into words what I’m feeling. Fury for what he’s done to Jeb and me all twisted and gnarled around the affection my child-self harbors for him. Except I’m no longer convinced it’s just the child in me who’s attached.

  “I hate you,” I say, the sentiment muffled against his heart, hoping to make it true.

  “And I love you,” he answers without hesitation, voice resolved and raw as he holds me tighter so I can’t break away and react. “A crossroads, my beautiful princess, that was unavoidable—given our situations.”

  That cuts me, and I don’t even know why. I’m adrift in confusion and disbelief over everything: our kiss, his confession, my standoff with the bandersnatch; most of all, that Jeb and I are about to go home.

  Stretching to hold me at arm’s length, Morpheus stares at my face, silent.

  “So, now you crown me,” I venture, needing to break the intense magnetism between us. “And I’m done.”

  He glances down at his shoes. “Yes. Then you’re done.” Without another word, he lights several torches along the wall, brightening the room. Then he retrieves his hat and settles it into place on his head.

  His clothes are in a shambles, just like mine. I cast a glance at the sleeping bandersnatch locked inside the pen. Why did Morpheus have me wear my coronation dress to something tha
t would leave it crumpled and ruined? A niggling of suspicion is reborn as he returns with the ruby crown in hand.

  “If you like,” he says, “I could crown you here and now—privately. No more performances. This can all be over in a matter of minutes.”

  His words shoot down my suspicions. He doesn’t sound very convincing, but I like the part about doing this without all of Wonderland watching. “Yes.”

  His free palm opens to display my wish. “When you’re ready, squeeze it to burst in your hand while thinking of your heart’s dearest desire. But be sure to choose your words carefully. Say that you wish to be free of Queen Red’s influence forever. That is the only way to free your family.”

  I nod.

  For some reason, he won’t meet my gaze. “All I ask is that you wait for me to crown you before you make that wish.” His lashes cloak his eyes, and the jewels on his face blink three different shades of blue—as if he’s indecisive about something.

  I slip off my gloves and take the bead, still warm from being in his pocket.

  He surprises me by offering something else—the jade carving of the caterpillar from his room. “So you’ll never forget me, or your better side.”

  I take it, swallowing against the doubt in my throat.

  He lifts the ruby crown over my head.

  I clamp my fingers around the gelled wish, waiting for my cue, rehearsing to make the words perfect in my mind.

  “I crown you Queen Alyssa, rightful ruler of the Red Court.”

  He’s no sooner placed the circlet on my head than the door flies open. Card guards and elfin knights fill the room, expressions stern and solemn. Two elves point their swords at Morpheus and force him to his knees. Gossamer hovers over one of the knight’s heads and Morpheus glares up at her.

  “You spilled the magic beans, eh, traitorous pet?” he asks with venom.

  An apology glimmers in her coppery eyes. “The guilt would’ve eaten you alive,” her bell-like voice chimes. “To take an innocent girl from all she knows and place her in a foreign world, away from her friends and family. So blinded by fear, you could not see you were repeating what happened to Alice. You are my most beloved master … I will not watch you wither away in regret. Better you face your fate with nobility.”

  Morpheus hisses at her. “Nobility? Was it not noble that I saved your life? Now you’re condemning me to death! I should’ve left you to be eaten by that fanged toad all those years ago.” The elves tighten their stance over him, and Gossamer hangs her head in shame.

  The knights and guards around me part to make an opening for someone coming through the door.

  “What’s going on—?” My last word clips short as a woman in ivory lace—flesh and gown glistening like ice crystals—steps forward. Her feathery white wings arch high and graceful, like a swan’s, complementing the lovely turn of her long neck beneath waist-length silvery hair. Her face is familiar for its beauty and loneliness, and she carries the pewter hatbox that once imprisoned her.

  The Ivory Queen.

  How did she get out? Did Queen Grenadine and King Red release her?

  One glance at the roses on the box, and that hypothesis falls to shreds. The roses used to be white. Now they’re the color of …

  Blood.

  Ivory steps up, inches away from where Morpheus kneels.

  “You seduced me,” she accuses him, her voice cracking. In spite of the angry frost shooting from her bluish white eyes, tears roll down her cheeks.

  “Recovered your memories, I see,” Morpheus remarks, smug even in the face of the swords pointed at him.

  “Along with my crown.” She touches the glistening diamond tiara on her head. “You used such pretty words.” She sobs. “All the nights we shared. You made me think you cared for me … used my affection to trick me into the box.” Her delicate fingers brush the wetness from her face. “Then you framed King Red and turned my court against him, all so you could close my portal and hold the young princess here until she completed your plan! Have you told her yet? The truth of it all? What you intended to take from her?”

  I look down at Morpheus. The guilt on his face sickens me. “He told me I could leave after I was queen.” I throw the caterpillar carving at his feet. “What else is there?”

  Morpheus stares at the chess piece next to his knee. “Nothing. To atone for all of the wrongs done to her, I was to see Red’s blood heir crowned as ruler of the Red Court.”

  A queen in ruby-colored robes, with ribbons on her toes and fingers that match her flaming hair, pushes forward, her king and guards flanking her. It’s Queen Grenadine. “There is more … the sprite told us …” She holds a beribboned hand to her ear, listening to the whispers. “Yes … there was one other stipulation to his curse, you see. One that will lock you forever to this place.”

  “He never intended for you to leave,” Ivory tells me.

  I curl my fingers around the gelled tear. If that’s true, then why the charade with the wish?

  “In your mad rush for freedom,” Ivory says, her attention once again on Morpheus, “you have cost a noble mortal man his life and betrayed both courts. Amends will be made for your heresy.”

  The words mortal man ice my heart. I turn to the jabberlock box and the blood-painted roses. My chest cinches tight with a horrible intuition. “Where’s Jeb?”

  Ivory opens the box’s lid, sympathy softening her expression.

  My stomach writhes even before I see the matted dark hair in the black water, even before it spins to reveal a face so familiar it scrapes my soul bare.

  “Jeb … no, no, no.” Rivers of hot tears burn my face.

  He looks confused as he watches me from inside the jabberlock box; then a flash of knowing brightens his eyes. “Al.” His lips mime my name on a surge of bubbles. The muted word breaks me in half. I was supposed to be his lifeline … how could I have let this happen?

  “Oh, you idiot!” Morpheus shouts up at Jeb. “Just had to be the hero, didn’t you?”

  “You are to blame for his state.” King Red steps up to speak. “Your actions caused this earthly young man to make a choice … an irreversible one.”

  “You’re one to speak of blame,” Morpheus shoots right back, arrogant as ever. A knight whacks him on the head with a gloved palm.

  Guilt gouges so deeply inside me, I almost double over from the pain. I kissed another guy, and Jeb bled his body dry for me. “This can’t be happening,” I say to Ivory, swatting tears away.

  Her expression grows tender. “I’m so sorry. My court would never have listened to King Red’s claims of being framed. The only one they would believe was their very own queen. Morpheus planned to set me free but only after he succeeded in trapping you here. Gossamer told your mortal boy, and he chose to take my place so I could stop Morpheus from completing his plan. He could not bear for you to be locked in our world forever.”

  “But now he is,” I mumble. Jeb watches me through the liquid. Pain pierces my heart—as if the organ is being pecked by ravenous birds.

  An ocean red from bonds of love, and paint the roses’ hearts thereof … It was Jeb’s love for me that opened the box. The same love that’s so bright in his eyes, it reaches through all the barriers between us—breaking through the dark water and glass to remind me of his faith: “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Even if things get screwed up, you’ll still find a way to help me.”

  He’s right. It won’t end like this. I won’t let it.

  The clear bead sparkles in my palm. My wish can’t be used directly for him, but it can still save him.

  I glare through my tears at Morpheus. “You once told me if I helped you, I’d be helping myself. Setting things right in Wonderland would free me and my family, forever.”

  He nudges the caterpillar carving with a finger. It spins on the marble floor. “Have you never heard the saying, ‘The truth shall set you free’? I gave you that. A glimpse of the real you.”

  He doesn’t care that I can’t hear J
eb’s voice. That I can’t touch his skin. He doesn’t care that Jeb’s terrified of losing control of his life but he gave up all control just to save me.

  What’s worse, soon enough, Jeb won’t remember me. He won’t even remember himself.

  Morpheus doesn’t care about any of that. All he cares about is carrying out Queen Red’s Deathspeak challenge.

  I bend down, level with his ear. “If I could, I’d make you take his place.”

  Morpheus’s jaw clenches. “The magic is final. Your mortal knight saw to that. One trade of souls will shut the door, and blood shall seal it, evermore.”

  Every muscle in my body tenses, holding me back from attacking him. Instead, I touch the red flocked roses. “I could join him. The wish can be used to put me inside.”

  “I’ll not allow it!” Morpheus tries to stand, but the knights place their sword tips at his sternum.

  “It will be a wasted wish.” Gossamer lights on my shoulder. “Only one soul will fit in the box at a time. Besides, the portal will never open again—in or out.”

  Jeb mimes the words, “Go home.”

  Regret claws at me, juxtaposed with overwhelming anger. He had no right to make this sacrifice. No right to give up his life for me. No right to leave me here alone.

  I stroke the glass above his face, memorizing every line. If I wish that we never came, neither of us will have been here for this to happen.

  Morpheus struggles against his captors, still on his knees, reminding me why I came here to begin with. If I put everything back as it was, he’ll be free again, too. Free to torment my family until someone stops him once and for all.

  There’s only one solution, and it’s as clear as the blue sky when Jeb and I flew across the chasm on floating boards.

  I kiss the cold, hard glass separating us, remembering his lips like they were in the Hall of Mirrors. Soft, warm, giving, and alive. Those first kisses will be our last.