He turns me to face him. His face flushes with color and he looks strong and healthy again. His frown turns into a smile, those dimples a vision too lovely for words. “Classic Al.”
“This isn’t funny. What you did . . . we have to undo it. There’s another way to give Wonderland dreams.”
He squints. “By you having a child with Morpheus? Are you ready for that today?”
My throat constricts. I finally know who I am without a doubt, but I’m still learning who Morpheus and I are together. I don’t want to bring our son into the picture before we’ve had time to grow, to work side by side and accept one another.
I want to do everything right this time, so I’ll never hurt Wonderland again.
Jeb takes both my hands in his. “You’ve made enough sacrifices. Your heart was ripping in half, trying to appease everyone and everything you love. You didn’t get to make the choice of where to live. It was made for you. So from this point on, anything that happens between me and you, or you and owl-bait, will be your choice. Not because of some magical promise you made me when you were desperate to save my ass from no-man’s-land. Not because of a dream-child you’re prophesied to bring into this world someday. Neither of those things should play any part right now. They’ve been taken care of. So you get to choose what role we’ll have in your lives, your terms. No time limit. No pressure.”
I squeeze his fingers. “I get to choose? How, when you’re staying here in the cemetery?”
“It’s not like that. Sister Two has the power to pull netherling spirits out of a possessed body. She used the same process to isolate my muse and coax it out of me, because it’s an entity now . . . made up of my dreams, nightmares, and imagination, brought to life by Red’s magic. That’s what will take the place of human children.” He’s trying to reassure me, but his words are far from comforting. “It will keep Wonderland’s cemetery balanced, keep it supplied for as long as I live.”
I take a shaky breath. I’m relieved he’s not giving up his life. But just imagining him without his ability to paint makes my chin quiver. “Why should you have to fix my world? You already painted it alive again. That’s enough.”
“It’s my world, too, because it’s part of the girl I love. That’s why I did it, Al. Okay?”
“But we could’ve found another way.”
“There’s no other way for me to be human again. I’m ready to go back . . . to take care of my family. Be who I was born to be.”
My throat swells. “Twice, I’ve watched you give up your life for me. I can’t let you give up your gift.” My voice is stern, hiding the helplessness I feel.
“Giving up the magic is the only way for me to move forward.” He releases my hands and helps free Sister Two from her sticky cage. “It’s my decision. And it’s done.”
Sister Two glowers at me as she scrambles free in the snow, kicking up powder with her eight legs. “Ye are unwelcome in the garden of souls, halfling, lessen ye be bringing me a soul to keep. Queen or no queen, power or no power, there be rules and customs ye must abide if ye wish to live in our world.”
Fury flashes through me, scalding hot. My skin sparkles, casting tiny dots of light along the webs and trees. “Fair enough. But there’s a new rule for you, grave keeper. I understand you’re tired of searching out dreamers. Well, problem solved. Now that you have an ample supply, you have no business returning to the human realm. Your place is here, tending your charges. The portals out of Wonderland will be heavily guarded. If I ever find you sniffing around them, I’ll strap you up in your web and let you hang for the rest of eternity.”
We stare each other down. She hisses but keeps her distance, wary of my magic. Jeb takes my hand and drags me toward the image of Finley waiting on the other side of the mirror to let us into the castle.
The moment we step through, the glass crackles and becomes solid again. All that’s left is a reflection of me in my see-through gown. Jeb grabs one of the drop cloths at Finley’s feet and covers me with it.
“Thanks for keeping watch,” he says, shaking Finley’s hand.
Finley offers a key to Jeb for the mirror, then bows to me. There’s serenity in his amber gaze as he says, “Hope to see you both at the banquet this evening.”
For a young man once so tortured and suicidal in the human world, he seems at peace and in control. All along I thought he was a hostage, but by loving him and appointing him a position in her army, Ivory has given him a purpose . . . a reason to live.
Red once had a constructive purpose, too. If she hadn’t lost sight of it, maybe she could’ve found peace. The knot at the base of my skull doesn’t budge this time. Her regret has consumed and incapacitated her.
What if the same thing happens to Jeb? For so long his identity was wrapped up in his art. What’s his purpose now?
Once Finley leaves the room, Jeb pulls me close in a wordless hug. I nestle against him, savoring the scent of paint. A scent that will be fading soon, forever. The only sounds between us are our pounding pulses and our clipped breaths. I’m so devastated, I can’t speak.
He holds me tighter, until his chest crushes to mine. My heart draws toward his, almost magnetized. It’s a breathless, intense innervation—warm and wonderful—as if starbursts of energy pulse within the organ. The sensation must be caused by the magical bridge he and Morpheus constructed within me, and I wonder if it will always feel like this when one of them holds me now.
Jeb backs me to a transparent wall and whispers, “Look at your world, fairy queen.”
I turn my head to view the dizzying heights below, the genesis of Wonderland blooming everywhere. My wing buds tingle, craving flight.
Jeb gently holds the drop cloth around my collarbone. “It’s fitting. That my wanting to know who you were inspired my first paintings. And that my knowing through and through inspired my last.” He has the strangest look on his face—alert and renewed—as if he’s just woken from a nurturing sleep. He doesn’t look like someone who’s quitting. He looks like someone who’s just beginning.
“Is it so easy to say good-bye to that part of you? Are you walking away from me, too?”
The world outside explodes in a riotous transformation of color and light, reflecting in patterns across his olive skin.
He tilts his head, studying me thoughtfully. “Saying good-bye to my art is . . . it’s terrifying, Al. Ivory offered to give me a forgetting potion, so I wouldn’t have to live with the ache. But I refused. I don’t want to forget anything, because it’s those experiences, those losses, that helped me see there’s a lot more to me than a brush and watercolors. Other parts that haven’t been tapped yet.” Behind his dark, long lashes, his eyes glimmer with a potency that has nothing to do with magic. He pulls me to him, warm breath dancing along the fringe of my lips. “We can figure them out together.”
His thumb touches the dimple in my chin, then drags along my mouth, sending prickly sensations from my lips to my chest to my belly.
“And just so we’re clear, I will never walk away from you unless you ask me to. I almost did once, but only because I thought I’d hurt you.” He works a necklace from inside his shirt.
I hadn’t even noticed the chain glistening at the curve of his neck. I help him drag it out, revealing the engagement ring that he melted in the ocean, the one that Morpheus melded into a clump of metal. It’s been painted anew. Indestructible.
“Oh, Jeb . . .”
“I can’t give you all the things I once hoped to,” he says. “But I can give you a family and a home. I love you, Al. I just hope you can love a simple mechanic.”
I wind my fingers through the wavy hair at his neck. I admire this side of him most of all . . . his fragility, his flaws. His strength in spite of them. And now, he sees that strength with as much clarity and confidence as I always have.
“There will never be anything simple about you,” I whisper. “And I already love you.”
He lifts me until I match his height, my feet dangling, a
nd presses me into the glass wall with his body. My heart reacts again—humming with life. His mouth and labret cross my forehead, soft yet persistent on their way down my face.
My mind blurs to a ripple of pleasure when his soft, full lips at last make contact with mine. He starts to deepen the kiss, but pauses, intent on the glass behind me. “You gotta be kidding.”
I glance over my shoulder. Outside, Morpheus hangs on the glass in moth form, level with my head, glaring at us with his bulbous gaze. Even without a face, his smugness is apparent. His favorite pastime is interrupting Jeb’s romantic moments. I try not to laugh, but can’t help myself.
“Cocky son of a bug.” Jeb sets me on the floor and draws the dropcloth tighter around me.
A barn owl swoops from the sky and skims the glass. Morpheus launches off in a tizzy, trying to outrun the bird. Now Jeb’s the one laughing.
I slap his shoulder. “Hey, that’s not funny.”
“Ah, he’ll be okay.” Jeb raises an eyebrow, watching the aerial pursuit taking place outside the glass. “It’s a new genus of vegetarian owls. They’re only in it for the chase. Besides, Morphie-boy can change to his other form anytime he wants.”
I smirk. “That owl is one of your creations?”
Jeb’s grin widens. “It was for bug-breath’s own good. Dude’s ancient . . . he needs to stay in shape.”
I bark another laugh. It’s so wonderful to see his playful side again.
Jeb’s smile gentles, then his expression fades to serious. “Can you finally admit it, your feelings for him?”
My elated buzz evaporates to a nauseated coil in my stomach. “There will always be two different sides to me. And each one loves you and Morpheus in different ways.” I look him in the eye, unashamed of the confession because of the honesty behind it. “I know it’s not fair to ask either of you to be okay with that.”
Jeb tips up my chin with a fingertip. “You didn’t ask. And I don’t want fair. I don’t want easy, either. I want one lifetime with you, and every crazy complication that comes with it. We’ve gone to hell and back to be together. I’ve proven I’m more qualified than any other human to handle what’s thrown at us. Magical or otherwise. Besides, how is you having two lives any different from any other woman who remarries after her husband is gone?”
“Because Morpheus will visit me in my dreams every night. Do you trust him?”
“I trust you. You’re as strong—no, stronger—than he is. He knows it, too. That’s why he gets off on testing you. You just need to prove it to yourself, like I had to prove things to myself. And you’re about to have twenty-four hours alone with him to do that.”
My shoulders slump. The drop cloth wrinkles between the wall and my back. I’d forgotten about my vow to Morpheus. “As soon as I’m free of Red.”
Jeb tucks the ring necklace under his tunic again. “I’m going to keep this until you tell me you’re ready. It’s a huge sacrifice, to build a human family and walk away from it someday. If it’s too much, or if after your time together, you decide you want to be with him now, I’ll move somewhere so we’ll never have to see each other. You need your time in the mortal realm to heal, and I won’t risk ripping you in half again.” His eyes are sincere and intense, his jaw tightened in an effort to be strong, even though I can tell it’s the most difficult thing he’s ever said.
His strength amazes me. I pull him into a hug. Just the thought of living my human life without him triggers pain in my newly repaired heart. Not a rip, but a heaviness, as if it’s filled with rocks. I snuggle under his chin, pulling his chest close so I can feel that magical current between us once more . . . so it can lighten the weight.
He strokes my hair. “About Red. You can’t let her sit dormant inside you forever. What’s your plan?”
I shake my head, grateful for the subject change. “I was going to release her spirit. Let her wither away. But I want to do something else. Something . . . meaningful.”
He pushes us apart and narrows his eyes. “Something she deserves, I hope.”
I trace the smudges of dried paint and blood on his tunic. “She loved Wonderland once. Before she lost sight of her good intentions, she wanted to change it for the better. Like you said, Sister Two zones in on spirits and drags them out. Since your muse has the residue of Red, maybe Red’s spirit can be joined with it. Then Red could help supply the dreams. She’ll be imprisoned, never able to escape, but at least she’ll be contributing something. It will extend the life of your muse. And it will send a message to my subjects, that if they step out of line, I’ll find a way to make them serve Wonderland forever. Most importantly, it will give Red peace.”
Jeb’s eyes brighten with something akin to pride. “You’re going to make one hell of a queen, you know that?”
A rush of satisfaction warms my cheeks. “I’m going to give it my best shot.”
He kisses my forehead. “Okay. I’ll stand guard here . . . let you back through when you’re done.”
I start for the mirror, but Jeb stops me. I look up at his concerned face, convinced he’s changed his mind and wants to come along since Sister Two and I aren’t on the best of terms. I’m prepared to argue with him, but all he does is lift one of my hands and curl my fingers into a fist.
“You got this,” he says, and bumps my knuckles with his. “She’s wanted Red back in her keep for over a year. You hold all the cards.”
“Exactly my thinking.” I smile at him.
He smiles back. “And one more thing . . .”
“Yeah?”
“It’s time for you to find peace, too. The bad is behind us now.”
I caress his face, then turn to the mirror. Sliding the drop cloth off my shoulders into a pile at my bare feet, I release my jeweled wings and envision the cemetery in the glass. My reflection looks back as I wait for the destination to appear: netherling eye patches, glittery skin, hair that’s wild and alive.
I see what Jeb saw, the reason he’ll never try to be my protector again. It’s a great feeling, knowing I’m strong and capable.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe the bad is behind us.
I can’t be sure until I know where things stand with my mentor-tormentor; the wisdom keeper who saved my life more than once, who holds the other half of my heart in his manipulative hands, and who made my metamorphosis to Wonderland’s Red Queen a possibility in the first place.
Gossamer hovers next to my ear as I stand in one corner of Ivory’s enormous crystallized banquet hall. The sprite has visited me throughout the day, providing pleasant company in spite of her unrequited affection for Morpheus. Working together to lead the mome wraiths from my school gymnasium a month ago seems to have bonded us.
As for Morpheus, I haven’t seen him since the owl chased him from the tower. He’s even stayed out of my head. Although he sent a message via Gossamer, concerning how pleased he is with my decision for Red.
Silver flaming candles, floating upside down from the ceiling, softly light the room. A string quartet plays without players; the frosty, glacial instruments glow and pulsate with the colors of the rainbow. The music is as crisp and breezy as morning air, yet muted, like melodious whispers echoed in a cave of ice.
Gossamer and I are playing the role of wallflowers beside an open doorway, watching Mom and Dad waltz alongside Ivory and Finley. The four of them—graceful and beautiful—stand out like pristine toppers for a wedding cake among the bizarre netherlings dancing spastically around them.
I danced earlier with some of the guests. Chessie, Nikki, and Rabid. Zombie flowers, shrunken back to their original size. Sprites. Hobgoblins. Even Herman Hattington joined in, his face switching like a TV screen between me and our other dance partners, the Doormouse and March Hairless.
Jeb stole me away once for a slow, romantic song. He’s gone now, shut up in his room in the castle. He was exhausted. Having wrangled Red’s and Morpheus’s magic for a month, survived facing his demons in a barbaric otherworld, breathed life into a dying landsc
ape, and given up his muse forever, I’m not surprised. Yet I can’t help but wonder if the main reason he left was because he doesn’t want to be here when Morpheus comes to whisk me away.
I stare at the door Jeb took when he left, unable to shake him from my thoughts.
“Your mortal knight is most unique,” Gossamer says in her chiming voice as she follows my line of sight. Her coppery bulbous eyes, glowing green skin, and glittery scales seem almost phosphorescent in the dimness.
I bite my lip, considering her words. My tongue stings pleasantly from the cinnamon-red lipstick the other sprites applied earlier with my evening makeup.
Hovering in front of my nose, Gossamer tilts her teensy head. “Which bids the question . . . Before all this. Before the compromise for your heart. Had you reached a decision? Which man? Which future?”
I return her steady gaze, still not sure if Morpheus is willing to compromise anything. “I was going to choose Wonderland, and rule alone. I could never live an eternity knowing I’d broken one of their hearts for the other. Especially now that I know how excruciating a broken heart can be.” I let out a shaky sigh. “Maybe I still should choose that. It seems wrong, for them to endure so much to bridge my two sides. It feels like I’m being selfish.”
The sprite makes a tiny sound, something between a snort and a sneeze. Her astute dragonfly eyes reflect the rainbow-colored lights from the instruments.
“What?” I lean against the door’s icy frame, amazed by how the ice isn’t cold to the touch, yet it can freeze a damaged heartbeat or suspend a rotting landscape.
The sprite perches on my shoulder, her wings tickling my ear. “You’re thinking like a human again. Seeing things in black-and-white.”
It’s my turn to snort. “Right. I forgot. It’s all about the gray in Wonderland.”
“It is. I once told you that no one knows what he or she is capable of until things are at their darkest. When you were dying, both your men came face-to-face with that moment. They combined forces, looked within one another instead of themselves, and found the gray—the common ground.”