Ensnared
“I’m just saying we have to figure out another way to get that medallion, and another way to smuggle Red out of here.”
The pulsing lights shimmer off the paint smudged on his face . . . coloring him with an eerie and dangerous camouflage. “You and your damnable other ways. This isn’t at all about what we do or don’t have between us, is it? There’s something else preventing this marriage . . . something you’re afraid to tell me.”
I hesitate.
“Alyssa!” He clasps my shoulders and draws me to my feet, losing all patience.
My confession tumbles out. “I made a life-magic vow to marry Jeb first. If I marry you instead, I’ll lose all my powers . . . forever.”
With a caress more sinister than comforting, Morpheus drags his hands from my shoulders to my wrists, streaking my skin with paint.
Then, unspeaking, he takes out a handkerchief from his jacket and wipes the smudges clean. His delicate touch leaves chill bumps on my arms. After scrubbing his face and hands, he tucks away the handkerchief and lifts his crumpled hat from the floor.
In a sweep of black wings, he turns his back and paces, pounding the dents from the red and burgundy topper in time with his steps. His lean muscles move in fluid, powerful lines beneath his tailored suit, exaggerated by the pulsating lights.
He’s precise and controlled, but his mind is spinning. Underneath all that grace and restraint, a savage prepares to strike—a pupa, waiting to emerge as a scorpion fly and turn Jeb to stone.
I take stock of the room once more, sizing it up for nets. There are limitless possibilities, yet I’m not in any hurry to imprison him again. Not when he’s spent all these weeks trapped and humiliated without his own magic.
“How could you use a life-magic vow so flippantly?” His snarling voice breaks through my silent scheming. The question scores like a venomous barb, making my breastbone burn as if hot wax drizzles down the center.
I study the wet paint on my palms and fingertips, then turn them, moved by the colorful fingerprints he stamped on the backs of my hands when we discussed our child. “There was nothing flippant about it. It was the one way to ensure you’d let me share Jeb’s mortal life . . . to give him hope, so he would leave this world.”
Morpheus stops in his tracks. I have his full attention. “So, you manipulated us both with one vow.” His long black lashes tremble, and admiration shimmers behind his wounded gaze—the same look I’ve received throughout my life each time I please him. Although the dark, angry crimson of his blinking jewels belies any true pleasure. “Bitterest irony. It would appear I trained you too well—”
A small buzzing sound interrupts him, out of sync with the hearts’ rhythmic pounding in the room. We both see it: a minute disruption in front of my face where an ear mite stutters in midair.
Morpheus tries to trap it in his hat, but it zigzags between us, throwing my voice out in perfect mimicry: “I made a life-magic vow to marry Jeb first. If I marry you instead, I’ll lose all my powers.”
The bug parrots my confession once more before I take a swipe at it. It dips low and flies for the door. Morpheus leaps too late. The ear mite skitters under the space at the threshold, escaping.
Placing his hat on his head, Morpheus casts me a scathing glare. “I assume Jebediah is in this castle somewhere. He would ne’er let you come alone now that you belong to him again.”
I seek Morpheus’s gaze beneath the shadow of the hat’s brim. “Your intentions?”
“He’s about to be in grave danger if that ear mite gets to Red before me.”
I can’t argue that Morpheus is the lesser of two evils where Jeb’s well-being is concerned. “He’s in a simulacrum suit, looking for you in the dungeon.”
Morpheus’s face darkens. “Don’t dare leave this room. All I need is you running about and mucking things up more than you already have.”
Before I can respond, he flings the door open and slams it behind him. He scuffles with the guards, then talks his way out of being taken into custody by suggesting they “lock the blasted door to contain their magical ward, considering she’s the biggest threat to AnyElsewhere.”
Then he makes up an excuse about needing to find the queen.
His determined footsteps fade down the hallway and I mentally hurry him along. He has to catch the ear mite before it reports to Red, and even more pressing, has to find Jeb before anything happens to him.
I tell myself that’s why he left in such a hurry . . . to protect Jeb. Not because he’s jealous and wants to eliminate him, rendering my vow null and void. The two have forged an understanding over the past month. They’ll never like each other, but they’ve spared one another countless times, and have learned to work together, because they both love me.
I have to believe that Morpheus isn’t acting on his desire for our future to start today. That he’s not being driven by his romantic ideals: a tapestry of emotions and actions as fierce and unpredictable as the wildness of Wonderland itself. I’ve seen his compassion and how he struggles to do the right thing.
“Have faith in him,” I whisper to no one but me. “He’ll one day be your king.”
He told me to stay put. Little does he realize, I have no choice. I’m too weak and woozy to leave my prison.
I return to the easel and swipe my fingers across the drying paint to blur it beyond recognition. It’s bad enough that Red is hoping for a child between us. Once she’s possessed my body and sees him for herself, it’s only going to make getting rid of her that much harder.
When my fingers glide across the image of our little boy, smudging him to an indiscernible blob, that stitch in my heart ruptures another agonizing degree. A coppery taste stings my tongue. I cough, cupping my mouth with my palm. As I pull my hand away, fresh blood spatters the paint between my fingers. I double over, struggling for breath.
The room shakes to the beat of a thousand pulses. Streaks of burgundy and black mingle with shivering light. My arms and legs ache. I absorb my wings to lighten the load, but my spine curls and I lower myself to my knees as darkness swarms my vision. I shut my eyes, focused on breathing. Rolling to my stomach, I let the shag carpet cushion my cheek as I drift toward unconsciousness, into the hazy, numb warmth of a vision . . .
My body is light as air, free of pain. A black oily sludge drips from the walls and seeps across the floor toward me. The puddles rise into phantom shapes like smoke.
Mome wraiths.
They engulf me, sniffing my hair, wailing in my ears until my bones clatter. Oily marks stamp my skin where they grip my arms, fingers of shadow and illusion biting into me. They drag me to the top of the castle’s tower and toss me down. My stomach leaps into my throat.
Far below, the rabbit hole opens—a black, spiraling tunnel. I fall fast, racing past open wardrobes, stacks of floating books, pantries, and jars of canned goods pinned to the tunnel’s sides with thick ivy curls. I clutch at a wall, knocking into furniture and tearing at vines until my descent slows.
Below in the darkness, a struggle takes place. Sister Two wrestles in midair with my mom, who’s strung up by webs. Mom uses her magic, animating wayward books and pinned-up furniture to bombard Sister Two’s head and torso. The grave keeper’s eight legs and poisonous, scissored hands are preoccupied deflecting the attack, which buys Mom time to break free. She slips out of the spider’s thrall and starts falling.
“Mom!” I shout.
She looks up. “Allie!” she calls back and reaches for me.
The wraiths wail overhead and pull the rabbit hole closed, shuttling us all out of the tunnel and propelling us into Wonderland on a landslide of dirt.
I dig myself out into the flower garden. Lightning slashes the sky, casting fluorescent hues across the landscape. A pungent, charred scent carries on a loud and melancholy wind. Dark purple clouds fill the sky.
Mom is just within my reach, surrounded by vicious zombie flowers as tall as trees. Sister Two scuttles toward her with an army of undead toys.
br /> I clamber up to help Mom, but my hand passes through her. I’m nothing but a ghost here, and I realize I’m reliving her entry into Wonderland that fated night.
A white swan swoops down, transforming into Ivory. Landing on the ground, she glitters from wing tips to toes. Her magic radiates in the purest strains of silver. She twirls like a crystalline ballerina and white mist streams from her mouth. Frost cloaks the ruthless flowers, slowing their movements.
A man breaks through the trunklike stems. I recognize him as Finley, the mortal Morpheus used as an imprint when he was in the human realm. Finley’s dressed as an elfin knight and commands Ivory’s army. With a collective shout, the elves attack the flowers, their swords clanging against the iced stems, cutting through in one sweep. The flowers scream and fall, writhing on the ground. Sister Two hisses and herds her undead toys into the heart of Wonderland, retreating to the garden of souls.
Ivory turns and offers a hand to my mom.
Mom takes it, then looks back at me. “I’m safe and we’re surviving. But the heart of Wonderland is dying. The doldrums are closing in. Come soon. We’ll hold them off as long as we can.”
I try to make sense of her warning, picking my mind apart for the definition of doldrums, but it escapes me.
“Allie!” Mom screams. “Wake up . . . wake up!”
Lightning streaks across the sky and splits into my chest, slamming me back into my broken body and the reality of unquenchable pain.
Someone has propped my back against what feels like cool tiles. I’m too weak to even lift my eyelids. I inhale and strangle on the liquid filling my lungs.
“She’s dying,” Red says, somewhere beyond my closed eyes.
“As she should be,” Hart responds. “Just look at the mess she made of my paints! And she nibbled on a tart. Confounded little mouse.”
Judging by Hart’s tirade, we’re still in the playroom. The scent of her perfume suffocates me, even more potent with my eyes closed. It’s the stench of death—wilted flowers and rotted flesh.
“Let me out so I can preserve her vessel,” Red hisses.
“Don’t be cross with me!” Hart scolds. “You had to know this would be the result when you put the spell upon her.”
“No. Once the netherling side fully awoke to madness, it was supposed to absorb the human one, transform it. I could never have predicted the mortal half of her heart would put up such a fight. That it would be strong enough to hold on for so long and endanger them both.”
A whimper lodges within my throat and a bitter metallic flavor gags me. I want to clench Red’s neck, to choke her. Instead, I’m the one choking . . . on my own blood.
“It’s your spell. Simply reverse it,” the queen suggests, ignoring my struggle.
“Now that the heart is splitting in two, I know of no magic that can save her. Nothing for me to do other than pull her together from the inside.”
I moan.
“Hurry, you fool,” Red prompts the queen, desperation in her voice. “Set my spirit free.”
“I need collateral,” Hart counters. “For the trade of the medallion. I want more than one measly human life-clock. I want them all.”
One human life-clock? Who could they be talking about? Jeb? My dad? Did they catch Uncle Bernie again?
Whoever it is, one of my loved ones is in danger.
I try to move, but agony slices through me, a metal stake splitting and gouging my breastbone. To keep from crying out, I freeze in place. My eyelids seal tighter.
“I already told you you’ll get more. My bargain with Morpheus is to hand over the medallion once the marriage is official. I said nothing about leaving you here.”
“You don’t think your king will have something to say about my following you through the gate?”
“Once Morpheus realizes I’m the only thing keeping his cherished Alyssa alive, he will do whatever I command.”
I inhale a sharp breath. The air scalds and scrapes my lungs, as if sprouting thorns on the way in. The sensation dulls my reasoning; still, I try to piece things together. Red plans to trick Morpheus. He must already suspect this. He’s a mastermind. The wise and cryptic caterpillar, emerged from his chrysalis in the form of a beautiful winged fae.
But he doesn’t know what she has for leverage. He’s unaware of my dying heart, or Red’s spell on me.
Other than Wonderland, I’m his only weakness. And she’s using both.
How can he refuse her?
I’m the only one who can stop this. I open my eyes to slits and groan, trying to concentrate enough to unleash my magic. Black fog crowds my peripheral vision . . . makes it impossible to focus.
The Queen of Hearts crouches in front of me, one half of her hair bright crimson and the other side burgundy. “This is all moot,” she says to Red. “You heard what the ear mite said. The dullard girl has made a vow to the mortal. There will be no marriage betwixt her and Morpheus.”
“Everything will fall in place once we find the boy. The vow is binding only for as long as he lives. We kill him, you have the start to your human collection, and I have my royal wedding.”
“No.” I try to speak over the blood gurgling in my throat. I’ve done it again. I’ve endangered Jeb’s life more than it already was. “I . . . won’t let . . . you.”
I attempt to slap Hart’s face, but my hand falls limply to my lap.
The queen’s clammy palm cups my chin. “How remarkable. Her life-clock is split in twain, hanging by mere threads. Yet still, she has fight in her.” Her expression grows intense. “I already have the medallion. I have my own way into Wonderland. There’s no reason I should do anything you ask, Red. I’m going to let her die and take her specimen. I’ve never seen another like it.”
“There will be another, one day,” Red insists, frantic. “Morpheus and I will have children through her. I’ll spare you one of their hearts. But not hers. Hers belongs to me. It doesn’t matter if you get into Wonderland. You won’t have access to the humans without the portals. Alyssa is the only one who can reopen them. And my plan for her and Morpheus reaches beyond your petty ideals. I am giving their firstborn—the first netherling capable of dreams—to Sister Two. She abhors chasing down human children. For centuries she’s complained about how tedious it is. So in exchange for an immortal child that will forever supply the souls in her lair, she and her disgruntled toys will aid me in overthrowing Ivory. Once I have the magic of both crowns, my control over all of Wonderland will be absolute. And you and every inhabitant of AnyElsewhere will be welcomed upon our borders to come and go and plunder the human realm as you please.”
I sob, at last face-to-face with Red’s horrific plan yet physically unable to intervene.
Hart clucks her tongue. “You’ve made a fair point. We have an accord. But the girl is barricading the transfer of your spirit by sheer will.” The queen draws her hand back, fingers dripping with my bloody saliva. “She’s the one who needs convincing now.”
“Let me in, Alyssa.” Red’s entreaty is eerily tender. “ You’re bleeding to death. What good will such a loss be to anyone? It will endanger both the human boy and Morpheus. Not to mention all of Wonderland.”
Tears trickle down my face.
Her argument is sound. As terrified as I am for my future child, he’ll never exist if I don’t save everyone today. The only way is to let Red’s spirit hold me together, then hijack her magic to fix Wonderland. I know her strategy now. If I can be stronger than her long enough, I’ll defeat Hart and cast Red out once and for all. I can’t let myself consider what will happen to my heart after that.
I slump forward in surrender.
My lungs shrink and my veins wither, depleted of oxygen. My eyelids droop, unable to resist the welcoming darkness that waits there.
“Hurry, hag. Release my spirit before she fades to ash and neither of us gets what we want.”
Hart groans in resignation and her clammy hand presses my forehead. A bright light bursts behind my eyes.
br /> White-hot tendrils shoot from my skull into my spine, forcing my body to straighten. To awaken.
I remember this feeling . . .
My eyes flutter open. The colored streak of my hair pulls loose, dancing. Bit by bit, my bobby pins drop to the floor until all of my hair matches the enchanted strands, free and flowing around my shoulders in vivid crimson waves.
The intrusion migrates to my arms and legs, filling my limbs with power.
My veins illuminate under my skin. Each one grows, expands to the form of a living, breathing plant that blossoms out of me like a snake.
Red inhabits me, and I welcome her, because she’s making me strong.
The splitting agony in my heart yields to the sensation of needles stitching it back together. All the pain soothes away and the beat is unified and solid. I fill my lungs, drinking the air.
I wrap my arms around my chest, hugging myself, embracing Red’s vitality.
“ Yes, my child.” Her voice forces its way from my mouth on a breath. “Together, We shall be unstoppable.” She addresses us as a collective We, as if We are one being. The possibility appeals to my madness in ways I never imagined.
The leafy tendrils sprouting from my skin lash at the Queen of Hearts. She takes a step back, cautious. Red uses the connection between her ivy strands and my veins to move me, as if I were a marionette. This time, there’s no pain, no cracking of bones or ripping of muscles and veins, because I don’t fight her. I move gracefully, as if I’m floating. I look down to find my body propelled by the vines, a creeping plant. My feet aren’t even touching the floor.
However wrong it looks and feels, all dread and fear vanish.
What’s so bad, really? The power coursing through us? The horror on Hart’s face as We wrap her in our deadly ivy? Her eyes bugging out like a guppy’s as We tighten our clasp on her neck?
No. Nothing bad here. On the contrary, the brutality is rapturous.