“Yeah,” Jeb says. “About that.” He cocks his head at Morpheus. “You laid it on a little thick out there.”
Morpheus clucks his tongue. “I performed masterfully,” he answers, at last managing to claim his hat from Chessie.
“Right,” Jeb scoffs. “Pretty sure my mistreatment wouldn’t have sent you into hysterics, drama queen.”
Morpheus smirks. “Fair enough. On the other hand, your portrayal of a brainless wind-up numbskull was spot on.”
Jeb’s lips quiver, as if he’s fighting a smile himself. “You know, I still have enough paint to make that flyswatter.”
“Tut. No need for violence.” Morpheus taps the dust from his hat and places it on his head. “I’m simply giving credit where it’s due.”
Their eyes glitter with levity, just like when they tease me. They’re enjoying the banter. There’s even an undercurrent of respect where there used to be little more than tolerance.
My heart swells, both sides of it, so proud of how they worked together, saw past their resentments for the greater good. The sensation is beautiful, but it causes another rip—a visceral pop behind my sternum.
I gasp.
“Al, you’re white as a sheet.” Jeb throws a concerned glance to Morpheus. “Maybe she’s losing too much blood.”
“Perhaps.” Morpheus catches my left wrist to check my pulse. I can tell by the suspicious crimp of his brow that he’s thinking about my anemic spell in Hart’s playroom.
I pull away. “I’m fine. Really.”
Jeb turns my other arm over to assess the damage. I cringe as my wounded skin stretches.
“I don’t share her magic,” Jeb says. “I can’t heal her.”
“I can, once I’m restored. For now we’ll staunch the flow.” Morpheus takes out his paint-smudged handkerchief, reminding me of our time in Hart’s room. I still can’t believe I almost choked him. And after professing my love . . . something he’s been waiting so long to hear.
With one glance he alleviates my guilt. Even without him being in my head, I know what he’s thinking: that he understands my darker side and her vicious kicks; that, in fact, it’s those very kicks that challenge him and make him feel alive.
I mime a thank-you. He winks and gingerly presses the hanky along my skin.
A strong gust blows through the leveled courtyard, stirring clumps of wet ash into a frenzied cloud. A wind tunnel appears in the distance, just above the cliff where we landed this morning.
Jeb takes my elbow gently. “We need to get going. Your dad, uncle, and the other knight are inside that grove of trees, waiting. We have a wind tunnel to catch.”
“You said we,” I point out as the three of us walk swiftly toward the portico to retrieve the painted shadows.
Jeb throws one last glimpse over his shoulder at the pool of fears and the giant ball of flames covering it, as if looking for ghosts. “I have nothing left to stay for.”
I’m selfish because I’m glad all of his creatures in the mountain were destroyed. How ironic, that I have Morpheus to thank for that, too. Or maybe he planned it all along. It never ceases to amaze me, the far-reaching scope of his machinations.
“Poor Nikki,” Jeb says, his voice heavy.
Morpheus offers a sad nod and Chessie hangs limp over his shoulder, his smile turned upside down.
“I thought she was trying to save her creator,” I add as we all walk through the portico and onto the bridge. “But she was trying to save her friend.”
“She was a brave little spriteling,” Morpheus acknowledges. “And speaking of small but fierce females, it’s time for you to spread your wings, luv.”
I don’t feel so fierce. Just the short walk across the courtyard has left me winded. I’m not sure how long I have before Red’s power runs dry and the tendrils holding me together give out.
For one second, I consider telling the guys about her spell, share my concerns so I don’t have to shoulder them alone. But what good would it do? They would only be tormented because they can’t fix this. No one can.
Red herself said there was no magic that could heal me.
My eyes burn at the edges. I’ve never felt more alone.
“Let’s go get your mom.” Jeb stands back so my wings can sprout open.
I force a smile, pushing past the tearing sensation behind my breastbone to take flight, eager to see Dad and hug him. With Jeb carried by his shadow on one side and Morpheus and his shadow on the other, we head for the cliff and our transport to the Wonderland gate.
As we fly, the memory of my vision about Mom buffets me like the wind currents. She’s safe, but Wonderland’s heart is ailing. What will we face when we get there? I only hope I can fix things before my own ailing heart gives up the fight.
I can die happy, if I know Wonderland will live.
I have just enough time to absorb my wings, slip out of my deadly dress, and pull an extra tunic over my leather leggings before we’re sucked into the wind tunnel and dropped in front of the gate that leads to Wonderland. After I fill everyone in on my vision about Mom and Ivory, Uncle Bernie hugs me and Dad good-bye. We promise to visit once we’re back in the human realm.
It’s a promise I’m afraid I won’t be keeping.
Leaving Uncle with the other knights, we make it through the gate without anyone knowing I’m harboring a fugitive. After that, aside from the horrible rotting stench, traveling through the tulgey’s quarter-mile-long throat isn’t nearly as terrifying or dangerous as I expected. Partly because Dad has ventured through once before and leads the way, but also because the tulgey is frozen. Literally.
Morpheus expected as much, even prepared us for it. He said according to my vision, Ivory froze things to slow Red’s decaying spell. To give us a chance to stop it.
The tree’s open mouth comes into view, offering a misty silvery light to see by. Our breaths form clouds of condensation as we maneuver around the giant ice-slicked gray tongue, using the splintery teeth like stepping-stones.
I leap from the unhinged jaw into the heavily wooded thicket behind Dad. Jeb and Morpheus bring up the rear. The neon grass glistens with frost and crunches beneath my boots. A mildewed scent hangs on the air, even though everything is cloaked in winter.
Tangled branches and looking-glass rejects—netherlings that have been spit back out of the tulgey in strange and awful forms—all stand motionless. Morpheus names the creatures: a carpenter ant with a body made of tools; a hornet with a trumpet for a nose; and a grasschomper with a locust’s body and a horse’s head, sporting a clump of frosty grass sticking out from its muzzle—as if it was suspended mid-chomp.
The scene is uncannily like the frozen tea party Jeb and I encountered on our first trip here. But unlike the tea party, there’s no broken watch that has suspended time in its icy thrall. This is something else entirely.
I meet Jeb’s gaze and he tips his head, acknowledging the memory.
Morpheus stops beside me. Glowing blue flecks swirl around his hands like fiber-optic mittens. They brighten and dim, then brighten again. His magic is stuttering as it warms up, like a car’s motor that has sat too long without use.
“Are you sure you told us everything about the vision?” he asks me as Jeb and Dad search for a path.
“I think so.” I rub my forehead. “I was . . . in a weird place when I had it. Why?”
Morpheus purses his lips. “I expected the terrain to be under a perpetual winter. But Ivory froze the residents. I can’t understand her motive. It was the landscapes that were in danger of falling into disrepair. Not the netherlings.”
I nibble on my lip. Something nudges at the back of my mind. Didn’t Mom use a strange word to describe the sickness that had fallen over everything? But I can’t remember what it was . . . it started with a D.
Frustrated by my amnesia, I trundle over to where Dad and Jeb are clearing away fallen branches from a trail that appears to be the only way out.
Dad stops me as I reach down to help. “All
ie, let us do this. I don’t want you to reopen your cuts.” He turns to Morpheus. “Will you be able to heal her soon?”
Bright orbs of blue light—strong and unfaltering—burst along Morpheus’s fingertips. The glow reflects off his face. He smirks like an enchanted schoolboy. “Yes.”
Chessie flutters around him in celebratory spins.
Dad nods and takes an iron dagger from the sheath at his shoulder. “All right. Jeb and I are going to see if this trail is safe. We’ll be back.”
Jeb squeezes my hand before he follows. I hold on to him, surprised to see his tattoo still glowing, though instead of violet, it’s pure red. He lifts his eyebrows in a bewildered gesture before rolling down his sleeve, an unspoken request for us to solve the mystery later. He and Dad duck under a mass of low-hanging tulgey branches and vanish from sight.
Chessie’s eyes whirl, telling me and Morpheus how much he’s missed his home and wants to revisit his favorite haunts.
“First, find Alyssa’s mum and Ivory,” Morpheus insists. “Let them know we’re here. If the mirror passages are working, have them open one for us.”
Chessie agrees, then weaves through some closely knit trees, gone before I can blink.
Morpheus lifts his hands, testing his power. Blue electric filaments reach to every branch in the canopy overhead, shaking white billows loose. He stands there—wings arced high—proud and regal as a fluffy downpour showers over him. A hearty laugh rumbles deep in his chest. He’s carefree and playful, even more than when he was in his room in AnyElsewhere. He’s been without magic for so long, he’s drunk on it.
The snow flurries over me, too, cold and refreshing. It reminds me of Texas and the seasonal snowfalls Jeb, Jenara, and I played in as kids. Snowmen, snow ice cream, snow forts. I can’t help but laugh with him, in spite of how weak I feel.
“Dance with me, blossom,” he coaxes, and when I hesitate, he reels me in with his magic. I snuggle into his chest and let myself savor his vitality, wishing I could absorb it.
He wraps an arm around my waist and clasps my hand with his. Lips pressed to my dreadlocked head, he hums the lullaby’s tune while his inner voice fills my head on a frequency only I can hear: “ You dazzled me today. So uninhibited. So filled with malice.”
I smile secretly and follow his graceful steps. His wings cascade around us like swirls of ethereal ink.
“In fact,” his mind-speak continues, “now that I have my magic back”—he spins me out, then pulls me against him again—“I expect you to give me another crack at our game.”
“Game?” I ask.
“I am not averse to roughing it up,” he answers, no longer humming. He takes my hand, nips at the knuckles with taunting teeth, then guides my fingers to the red marks on his neck. “Wrathful queen and wayward footman . . . that will be standard fare for our love-play. Sans Red’s vines, and we’ll both be scantily clad.”
I snort. “You’re delirious.”
“I prefer the term ‘mad.’”
I smile up at him, thrilled to see him teasing and content. I press my ear to his chest so I can hear his strong heartbeat. I try to make my dual heart merge to one beat and follow its perfect rhythm. I fail.
“Alyssa, I am whole again,” he murmurs as our dance slows to a gentle rocking motion.
“I know.”
“Jebediah is whole, too.”
I don’t answer, because somehow Jeb still harbors Red’s magic and I’m not sure what to make of it.
“So, you must convince him to release you of your vow,” Morpheus adds, resolute.
I start to pull back, but he hugs me tighter.
“You love me. You admitted it.”
“I do love you.”
His body trembles in response, as if he can’t contain his emotions at my confession. “We both know you made the vow to get your mortal knight out of AnyElsewhere. To give him faith in his humanness and you. Your stratagem saved his life.”
I grind my teeth. “That’s not the only reason I made it.” It’s important that he accepts my love for Jeb. I’ll have to tell Jeb the same thing about Morpheus before I’m gone. I will not leave them with lies hanging between us. “I love you both.”
Morpheus tenses and waltzes me around the small space again, retracing our dance steps through the snow until our footprints erase themselves. We twirl from one end to the other, as if he thinks he can distract me from my own truth.
At last, we come to a panting stop, face-to-face. All of his earlier playfulness snuffs out like a candle as our breaths form clouds of condensation between us. “I’m done waiting. It is now or never. And dare not forget, our union will ensure what happened to your father never happens to another human. No one else will be trapped by Sister Two, because we will gift Wonderland with our dream-child.”
His words punch me with a realization that hasn’t yet crossed my mind. Since I’m dying, our son will never be born. Wonderland will have to continue to steal children for their dreams forever. Unless we can find an alternative.
There’s a harsh snap behind my sternum and a bitter, metallic flavor coats my throat.
I press my face into his chest, stifling a sob. “I thought we were dancing.”
In response, he spins me. I break free and come to a stop in front of a tree trunk. Its expression is locked in an openmouthed morose frown, just like the tree we stepped out of. I stand back and survey all the tulgeys within sight. Every single one has the same expression, as if it was miserable the moment the ice swept over it.
The heart of Wonderland is suffering. The doldrums are closing in. Come soon. We’ll hold them off as long as we can.
“Doldrums,” I murmur.
“What did you say?” Morpheus asks, coming up behind me.
“Doldrums. That’s the word Mom used when she said to hurry. She told me the doldrums were closing in.”
I look over my shoulder for his reaction. His jaw is clenched, his beautiful face crestfallen. He appraises the trees and the looking-glass rejects. “I thought Red merely cast a spell. But it was a plague . . . an extermination. Toxic gloom.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Doldrums are microscopic creatures. Their destruction is so devastating and complete, they’ve been in containment for centuries. Each of the castles has a supply of them under lock and key, as a means to keep the peace. To keep both kingdoms in check.”
I nod. “Mutual Assured Destruction . . . both sides know that any attack on the other will be devastating to themselves. We have the same thing for nuclear weapons in our world.”
Morpheus rubs his temple. “Red must’ve smuggled them out before she was exiled from the throne. When she launched her revenge against you and me, she didn’t simply plan to destroy the beauty here . . . she was going to eradicate everything.”
“But why? I thought she wanted her kingdom back?”
“It must have been her alternate plan, in case something went awry with the Alice one. This way, she could level all of Wonderland, then rebuild to her specifications.”
“Of course. That fits. She wanted to rule over everything.” I’m about to tell him how she intended to use our child as a bargaining chip to defeat Ivory and rule both kingdoms, but he interrupts.
“She must’ve released the plague after you left for the human realm,” he says. “After she found a new body to inhabit. That’s when it all started falling apart.”
“And that’s when you tried to get me to come back.” I move to the nearest tree and slide my scarred palm over the glacial bark. I sense Morpheus’s closeness, but don’t turn around. I’m too ashamed. “I should’ve listened.”
“You had a bit of a learning curve.” There’s restraint in his voice. He’s angry. “What matters is what you do with what you learned.”
“But can Red’s magic fix this?”
He sighs, placing his hand alongside mine on the tree so his body and wings hedge me in. “It comes down to more than fixing at this point. It is a renewal.
Creating the world anew is the only way to stop the infection, and only the power of those who’ve once experienced crown-magic have that ability. It takes lineage from both kingdoms working together. Ivory couldn’t do it alone. That’s why she froze everything, to keep the inhabitants from getting infected until you came and could help. Together, you’ll re-create the landscapes and then, once they’re pure, Ivory can safely release all the netherlings from her suspension spell. It might take every ounce of power Red has left, paired with yours and Ivory’s, to address a pandemic so widespread.”
My eyes tear up, because my magic is only as strong as I am, and Red’s is waning.
Morpheus strokes my hair where it hangs between my shoulder blades. “There is a silver lining, luv. You won’t have to cast her out. You’ll simply use her up. And then she shall be defeated at last. Gone forever.”
He doesn’t realize I’ve already used most of her up. In trying to keep myself alive, I’ve damned Wonderland to die. I never considered how closely entwined our fates might be.
I crumple, my palm skating along the tree’s frozen face as I plop to the ground.
“Alyssa?” Morpheus crouches beside me in an instant. He catches my chin and forces me to look at him. “Are you feeling anemic again?”
I struggle to breathe. It grates inside my chest, like inhaling angry bees. Blood creeps into my throat and gags me.
Morpheus’s jeweled markings flash through an anxious kaleidoscope of colors. He whips off his jacket, wraps me in it, and rolls up his shirt cuff. “Take off your boot so I can heal you.”
I clench my teeth against moving. The only way to manage the agonizing pain, to keep my heart from ripping any further, is to stay frozen like everything around me.
Morpheus gives up waiting, peels away the boot, and pushes up my legging’s hem. He traces the tattoo that he loves to tease me about, then presses our birthmarks together. A spark rushes between us, expanding like a flame through my veins. The power heals his neck and my arms, yet never quite reaches my heart.
During the euphoric rush of warmth, Morpheus’s gaze locks on mine and I’m bared to the bone. He sees what’s wrong.