I struggle to make sense of her cryptic words. “You mean how my mom tried to become queen? Why would Sister Two care about that?”
“Blast it!” Morpheus scoots off the bed and crouches next to me on the floor. He props his elbows on the mattress and cradles his temples in his hands, massaging with his fingertips. “So the twins are squabbling … that leaves the cemetery only partly guarded. If Red breaks into it, she’ll have her spirit army. Then she’ll come here. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Ivory’s lips and cheeks deepen from white to pale pink. “You should’ve stayed in Wonderland … faced Red, like she wanted.”
“You know why I couldn’t.” A tremor shakes his chin almost imperceptibly. “So who told Sister Two the secret? There were only three of us who knew.”
Ivory frowns. “No, there were four. Red knew. Sister One has a foolish habit of confessing secrets to her dead spirits when she tends them, and that was well out of the boundaries of our vows not to tell a living soul.”
“Perfect,” Morpheus snarls.
“Red tried to invade the cemetery this morning,” Ivory continues. “The sisters captured her and were preparing to exorcise her spirit from the flower fae so they could seal her in a toy for eternity. But Red told Sister Two the secret about Alison to distract her. Sister Two turned on her twin in a rage, and Red escaped. Sister Two came here to find a replacement for what Alyssa’s family has stolen from her, one way or another. Those were her final words as she wound me in the web.”
I shake my head. “I don’t understand. Is she still mad about Chessie’s smile or how I accidentally helped Red escape last year? But what’s that have to do with my mom?”
“What Sister Two seeks compensation for wasn’t an accident,” Ivory answers. “And the payment will be steep. She intends to take your mortal knight for reparation.”
I still don’t understand what exactly is going on, but the fear clutching at my heart overpowers any curiosity. “Jeb was outside when I got here,” I say, trying to talk over my terror. “That must’ve saved him. She thought he was gone.”
“Yes,” Morpheus says. “The boy escaped by chasing a white rabbit. There’s poetic irony in that, aye?”
We turn our combined glares on him.
“Simply trying to lighten the mood.” His expression sours.
“There is nothing lighthearted about Sister Two’s threats,” Ivory scolds. “Alyssa’s mortal knight is in true danger now.”
“Now?” I huff. “We’ve been in danger from Red for a week. She’s been stalking us. At school, at the hospital. And she’s been masquerading as an art collector—that’s how she got Jeb out here.”
Neither one responds.
I look back and forth between them. There’s something they’re not telling me, and I’m tired of ambiguous revelations. “This is my world you’ve invaded, my life being screwed up, and my loved ones in the middle of it all. I have a right to know what’s going on.”
“She does,” Ivory insists.
“She knows all she needs to know,” Morpheus says.
“Curse you, Morpheus.” Ivory says exactly what I’m thinking. “These human lives we trifle with. There is a heavy price to be paid.” She rolls to her side in a rustle of lace and satin so we can’t see her expression. “Will I never learn? Time and again … you offer me glimpses of love and companionship, and I am too weak to turn you away.”
Morpheus reaches around me and tips her chin in his direction. “That’s not entirely true. You were the one offering glimpses of love this time.” He dries her ice-encrusted tears with a knuckle.
Another private moment passes between them, a look I can’t quite decipher, as if he’s relaying a message to her mind. I’m so used to being the recipient of his silent messages, it’s unsettling to sit on the outside.
“What’s going on between you two?” Suspicion wavers in my vocal cords.
“You’re supposed to be working on that lack of trust,” he reminds me.
I stare at him until my eyes itch from not blinking.
Ivory pats my hand. “You misunderstand. I gave Morpheus a glimpse into his future. Something I saw in a vision.”
“That’s enough, Ivory,” he says, a threatening edge to his voice that makes the hair on my neck bristle.
She blinks twice. “In gratitude for my help, Morpheus offered me the gift of companionship, but not his own. A young man from your world, who needs my love as much as I need his.”
“Finley.” I’d almost forgotten the pawn Morpheus stole from the real world. “Is he okay?”
She nods. “He’s safe in my palace, as a ward of my knights. Though he came with a stipulation. I owed Morpheus a favor, so that’s why I am here. Nothing is ever free with him. Nothing.”
“Exactly why we have this trust issue,” I answer her but shoot a glare at Morpheus.
He traces a split in the mattress, ignoring me.
Ivory gives him her hand, and he helps her sit up. She takes my elbows, coaxing me to join her on the edge of the bed.
As Ivory strokes the ends of my hair, her voice becomes gentle. “There is one thing you can trust about Morpheus. He is loyal to you. It is his desire to be with you that drives him to these desperate schemes.”
Morpheus stands in a rush of wings and rustling clothes. His shoulders droop as he turns his back to us. “There is nothing desperate about enlisting Alyssa’s help. It is her place. She is the bearer of the ruby crown. Wonderland is as much her home as ours, no matter how she denies it. I had to make her see.”
I push off the mattress. “By lying?”
Morpheus responds with silence, not even glancing over his shoulder to acknowledge me.
Blood rushes to my cheeks. I’m more furious with myself for believing in him than anything else. I move to the loft’s railing and look pointedly at Ivory, an ugly theory taking form. “The real Ivy Raven. She’s never even seen Jeb’s artwork, has she?”
Ivory shakes her head.
“You didn’t need her imprint for a glamour. You just needed a legitimate name in case we checked up on her. It was you who showed up to meet Jeb at the art gallery.” I grit my teeth. Neither of them deny it. “He was so blown away by your amazing ‘costume.’ And you weren’t even wearing one. You kept him here last night. Why?”
Ivory looks at the lace and webs sweeping the floor at her feet, long lashes veiling her eyes in a white curtain. “Only those with royal blood can see through Chessie’s filter and decipher visions. Morpheus needed me to read your mosaics. And since your mother hid the others, he had to arrange for replicas. We were running out of time.”
My stomach drops. “Why the big hurry? You’ve already said Red isn’t here.”
Morpheus’s muscles tense at the statement, but he stays maddeningly silent.
Ivory answers, “Morpheus needed to know if Wonderland could be saved if he ignored Red’s threats. She had given him an ultimatum: Surrender to her and meet his death, or watch his beloved nether-realm fall to rot at his feet.”
I think of Queen Grenadine’s ribbon that spoke to me in my bedroom: Queen Red lives and seeks to destroy that which betrayed her. “It was Morpheus she was after, not me. He’s the one she thinks betrayed her.”
Stoic, Morpheus kicks the carafe that once held the Tumtum juice. It rolls along the floor and stops beside my stolen mosaics. “I escaped her Deathspeak without her getting the throne. In her mind, I recanted our deal and owe her my life.”
Glancing at Jeb’s prone, dreaming form downstairs, I curl my hands into fists. “You vowed to tell me the truth about my mosaics. You lied.”
Morpheus grunts. “You never specified what truth. So I told you the truth about their origins … their power. And I never once said Red had them. You were the one who supplied her name.”
My legs feel shaky. I slide to the floor, my spine raking along the railing. “So Red called you out—a bully on a playground—and you ran. You brought your fight to my world.”
r /> “Your world,” Morpheus huffs. He faces me, his exquisite features hardened to a defiant scowl. “I showed you the truth in your dreams, the havoc she was wreaking. But because it didn’t cast a ripple in this stagnant little human pond you call home, you ignored me. You put it out of your mind. Talked yourself out of believing it. I knew you would care nothing about my well-being. But I hoped … I hoped you would fight for Wonderland.”
I want to say that I would’ve fought for him because I owe him. Because I remember what he did for me. Because a part of me cares about my childhood friend, even about the selfish, charismatic, and frustrating man he’s become. But I wouldn’t have been in Wonderland for him to rescue in the first place if he hadn’t lured me down on false pretenses last year. And I wonder, would I really have faced the one creature that terrifies me most, to save someone who was once so careless with my own life?
“Don’t you dare turn this on me,” I say, maybe as much to myself as Morpheus. “This is about you, what you did.”
“I did the only thing I could to bid a reaction from you. The stolen mosaics, the vials of blood, the spellbound nurse, and the haunted clown—”
“Aha!” I point at him. “You can’t deny that lie. You said you never sent a toy.”
“Herman Hattington isn’t a toy. He’s a thespian of the highest order, due to his ever-changing face. And I didn’t send him. He went to you of his own volition, as a favor to me.”
I bury my head in my hands. That explains the clown’s weird, heavy hat; it was the metal conformateur that’s a part of the hatmaker’s skull. “I suppose Rabid was helping you, too.” That possibility hurts worse than any other.
“No,” Morpheus answers. “His loyalty to you is sincere. His part in this was purely accidental.”
“What about the nightmare?” I ask, looking up.
Morpheus shakes his head. “Your own subconscious manifested that tidbit, with a little help from the hallucinogens we put in your sedatives.”
“Why?” I growl.
“I had to make you believe Red was putting your boyfriend in jeopardy so you’d return with me to save Wonderland. The only way I can ever get your attention is by placing your mortal toy in danger. It was working brilliantly, until once again the human muddled things up.”
“You jerk!” My muscles coil and I scramble up to lunge at him. I expect him to fold a wing between us to block me. Instead, he steps forward, wings high and open. He holds out his arms—daring me to tackle him—egging me on. Ivory catches me around the waist and hauls me down beside her once more.
I struggle to get out of her embrace. She holds me with a force that’s surprising for someone as delicate as an ice sculpture.
“You came swooping in here today, pretending to be the hero,” I seethe to Morpheus. “When all along it was your fault Jeb was in that state to begin with. And now he’s in real danger.”
“It was only to be a few paintings on glass,” Morpheus answers, his voice far too calm. “The juice was supposed to make him more focused until he finished. I never anticipated he’d become crazed, or that you would find your way here and he would put his hands on you …” There’s a slight shift in his features—something menacing. “I never imagined, if Ivory left him for a few hours, that he would go off on a tangent and paint your memories—the very ones he lost. He’s trapped in a hell crafted by his very own hands.” Morpheus’s gaze narrows. “But no. It’s more at your hands, is it not? You’ve had a year to tell him everything. Had he known, he wouldn’t have been such an easy target for me, and perhaps he wouldn’t be in danger from Sister Two now.”
I break free of Ivory’s hold but can’t move off the bed. Morpheus is right. Jeb’s vulnerability is my fault.
“How do you do that?” I ask. “How do you always turn everything around on everyone else? Manipulate even those who know better than to believe you?”
Morpheus shrugs. “That’s my power. My magic. Persuasion.”
“No. Your power is poison.” My pride raises its head again. “Just so you know, there’s something you’ll never persuade me to do.”
He studies me, smug. “What’s that?”
“Love you.”
Morpheus’s jewels turn pale blue, the color of anguish, and I revel in the knowledge that I cut him.
“Never say never,” he murmurs.
I match his stare, eyes stinging as if venom seeps through my irises.
He looks away first, steps over to the ladder, and dives, graceful black wings spread wide. He lands lightly in the middle of the floor. He waves to his moths, reuniting his hat, then kneels to hoist Jeb onto his shoulder around his left wing.
I leap to my feet and scramble back to the railing. “Put him down!” I screech.
“He’s not safe here,” Morpheus answers, gathering Jeb’s shirt and boots with his free hand. “We must find a mirror and get him to the train. You wish to try to haul him out to the car yourself?”
I swallow a rebuttal. As arrogant as he is, he’s right: I need his help to find the train.
“The keys,” he presses.
Frowning, I chuck them toward him. Chessie zooms up and catches them in midair.
Ivory stands—all lace and elegance. She moves behind me, her wings low like a feather cape.
Morpheus looks over my shoulder at her. “Go back through the rabbit hole and protect your castle. Warn Sister One that her twin has crossed over to the human realm. She’ll need to keep a close watch on the dark side of the cemetery. Alyssa and I will follow soon. We’ve little time to waste.”
“Right,” I say. “Now that you’ve managed to lure one of the creepiest and most venomous netherlings into a world of helpless humans, we don’t have much time, do we?”
Morpheus resituates Jeb on his shoulder. “We’re not at a complete disadvantage, Alyssa. Sister Two has a weakness, as we all do. She has a blind spot. Once she’s cornered her prey, she notices nothing else around her. So, since there are two of us, we can work as a team to defeat her and send her back to Wonderland.”
“Right,” I answer. “And then you’ll be the big hero again. For cleaning up a mess that you caused to begin with.”
Morpheus doesn’t answer. He strides out the door. Chessie looks up at us once, then follows.
“Perhaps you were a little harsh with him,” Ivory says.
Hands clenched at my sides, I face her. “Jeb is the target of a black-widow woman big enough to eat a horse, and now he’s catatonic and can’t even defend himself. Not to mention all the humans who almost went up in flames today, all because of Morpheus’s stupid plan.”
“He never expected Sister Two to become involved. And he had nothing to do with the events at your school. The bugs caught wind of Queen Red’s alliance with the flower fae. They feared she would lead her army into your world after she destroyed all of Wonderland, where they would feed on insects and humans alike. They released the wraiths in an effort to protect their home from Wonderland invaders.”
“Technicalities,” I answer. Her calm rationalizations are only making me angrier. “Doesn’t it ever bother you? How he always gets by on those? He couldn’t use his magic because of the glamour, so he had you and Hattington and the nurse do all his dirty work. Which meant that each time he told me he wasn’t doing those things, he was able to lie to my face—guilt free, in true Wonderland form.”
“He wasn’t guilt free. He has been in torment. It was not his original plan to use your mortal knight.”
“Right. I’m sure it was to sacrifice his own life for all of Wonderland, because he’s an old-school martyr like that.”
She frowns, her pale pink lips shimmering like flower petals in the sunlight. “That was his plan.”
I want to laugh, but the sincerity within her frosted eyes stops me. One thing I’ve learned about Ivory, she’s always honest when confronted. “All right. Convince me.”
“A week before Morpheus started visiting your dreams again, he came to my castle and told
me of Red’s ultimatum. He asked me to use my crown-magic to look into your future, to assure that if he did as she asked and gave himself up to Red, she would be satiated and you and Wonderland would be safe forever. What I saw … it changed everything for him.”
She holds out her palm, and a bubble appears. It’s the size of a softball, only luminous and clear. “Vow to me you’ll never tell anyone what I’m about to show you.”
I stand mute, staring at the bubble as a blurry image begins to form inside.
“Vow it,” Ivory presses.
I make the pledge. Two life-magic vows in one day. I’m becoming a pro at netherling negotiations without even trying.
Still holding the bubble, she bends down beside my mosaics and scrapes off a small residue of gray powder left from Chessie’s sparkle cloud of earlier. She swipes it over the crystallized bubble, which animates a scene that’s startlingly familiar. Not only can I see it, but I can hear, smell, feel, and taste it.
I’m crowned and seated on a throne at the head of a table, hosting a feast with mallet in hand, prepared to strike the main course dead. The scent of clover wine, moonbeam cookies, and baked fruit wafts from sparkling platters and crystal glasses.
Gathered around are a mishmash of creatures, some clothed, others naked, all more bestial than humanoid. They are my subjects, and my heart brims with affection for them—for their weirdness, for their madness, for their loyalty.
We talk and tease and bargain with the main dish. Maniacal laughter echoes in the marble halls, sweet to my ears.
There’s movement at the banquet hall’s entrance. A child with my eyes tumbles in—all wings and blue hair and giggling innocence. Holding his hand is Morpheus, wearing a ruby crown.
The Red King. My king.
The bubble bursts and takes the vision with it, leaving nothing but the sound of my gasp and wisps of gray smoke behind.
“You see,” Ivory says, “once Morpheus knew that one day you would belong to him and he to you, that you would share a child, he was no longer willing to die to save Wonderland. But he’s insecure about your feelings for him. He feared you would refuse to help. So he made a new plan, however flawed it was.”