Dinah nodded. “I won’t. Promise.”
“Fine, then.” He turned slightly back to look at her, his long gray hair blowing gently in the wind. “Cling to the wall, Princess, or this coming wind will rip yeh right off.”
Dinah pressed herself against the stony slate at her back and continued to watch him silently. The Spade stared off into the distance, his eyes focused on something she couldn’t see.
“I grew up in the Twisted Wood, farther north from where we’ve been. That’s why I have a bit of an accent, yeh see? A small village called Dianquill. Yeh’ve probably never heard of it.” Dinah shook her head, her eyes trained on the hundred foot drop before her. “I’m not surprised. It was a hundred people, maybe more. My mother died when I was just an infant. My father was a huntsman, and he supplied most of the food for the town, along with a few other men. It’s how he made our living. Dianquill was also known for their berry harvest every spring. Most of my childhood was spent foraging in the forest for berries, looking for those rare fruits that would fetch a fortune from travelers stopping through.
“I was just fifteen years old when I met Amabel. I saw her out of the corner of my eye, this tiny red-haired girl, obviously hungry and dressed in filthy rags. She belonged to one of the strange families who lived deep in the woods. Their family couldn’t afford to move to the village, so Amabel and her sisters came in to buy goods now and then before retreating back to their isolation. That day I gave her some Julla fruit that I had in my bag and she scampered off into the trees. A week later, she found me again while I was hunting. Her father had gone mad with a sickness and died, but before he passed he taught his daughter to be the best tracker in all of Wonderland. That’s how she had found me, and that’s how she found me every week from that day on. In return for food, she taught me how to track. Though I might seem skilled to yeh now, I am nothing compared to Amabel. She could track a deer for a hundred miles and at the same time follow the path of a man who had walked that land twenty years prior.”
Sir Gorrann paused to take a long drink from his waterskin. “We married when I was nineteen, and I tell yeh, I have never loved another woman. Every morning when my eyes open, I can see her face—her long red hair, her bright eyes, wild as the sea. With my father’s help, I built us a house on the edge of town. We were deep enough into the woods where we had some land and peace, but close enough to the village that I could continue to supply our family with income using my skills as a hunter. Hunting became almost too easy with Amabel’s tracking skills. We had a bounty, and life was sweet and easy. We were so happy. And after our third year of marriage, we welcomed a daughter, Ioney. She looked like her mother. I thought I could never love anything more than Amabel, but I lost that battle the day I first laid eyes on Ioney. Our family was complete, and I wanted for nothing. I was a happy young man. Then they came. It was a damp spring day, not unlike this one….”
His voice sputtered out. The Spade had stopped moving, and Dinah held her position on the rock. Tears were gathering in his eyes, and she saw his weathered hands clenching with emotion. Though she was utterly fascinated, winding tendrils of guilt began to snake through her for asking him to recount these details. “You don’t have to….”
“QUIET, GIRL!” he snapped. “Yeh asked, and yeh’ll hear it. Be patient. It’s been a spell since I’ve spoken of them.” His mouth distorted with pain as he continued his story.
“As I was saying, it was spring and the warm rains had come and gone. I was out hunting a white bear, the same kind that almost took yer limbs, when I saw smoke rising from the village. I ran back, but it was too late. The entire village was smoldering; no building was left untouched. Several of my closest friends had been slaughtered defending their homes. The women and children had been left alive, but most of the men had been cut to pieces. My father was hanging from a burning log that had once been my childhood home. All of the villagers’ food and livestock had been taken, their homes gone forever. An entire village, wiped out in less than an hour by a few cruel Cards.”
Dinah’s eyes narrowed. “Cards? From Wonderland Palace? Not the Yurkei?”
“I thought it was the Yurkei at first as well, but no. A friend who died in my arms told me that while some of the riders had been painted to look like Yurkei, they were undoubtedly Cards. The arrow buried in his stomach was topped with a red glass heart, so there was little doubt. Indeed, it had been Heart Cards, on their way to fight with Yurkei. Their provisions had run low, so they had taken what they wanted from my village. I closed his eyes and climbed upon my horse and galloped for my home, faster than I had ever ridden in my life.”
Dinah longed to stop his story, to put her hands over his mouth to save her the horror of what was coming.
A tear made its way down his face. “I was too late, too late for my darling girls. The Cards had come across Amabel while she was tending our herb garden. She lay motionless on the ground, her red hair wet with the blood that flowed from her chest. Her hand clutched a bow and arrow, and I can only imagine that she intended to use it to defend our helpless child, my brave love, the love of my life. For this she had been shot clean through the heart. I longed to hold her there forever, her body still warm, but I had to find my daughter.”
Dinah closed her eyes and pressed against the cool rock face, desperate to hear no more.
“Ioney was inside the house, although there wasn’t a house anymore, just a charred pile of smoking wood and fallen timber. There was only bones left of my little girl, my Ioney.”
Her eyes blurring with tears, Dinah looked away from Sir Gorrann, out into the open air before them, a vast view of honey-colored valleys and gray rock. Up until now, she had mistakenly believed that she was the only one who had suffered, the only one who had reason to grieve. Her childishness convicted her and she felt her face flush with shame.
The Spade continued. “Feeling sad that yeh asked, are yeh? ’Twas a dark night when I laid beside my love, and more than once I pressed a dagger to my throat, feeling that death would be such a sweet relief from the pain, hoping that I could join Amabel and Ioney, wherever they were. The only thing that kept me from burying it into my jugular was the thought of revenge. The next day, I buried Amabel and Ioney under their favorite berry bush in the woods, an unmarked grave. I planted Amabel’s favorite orchids in a circle around their grave, sang them their favorite song and departed with my horse as evening fell. I took nothing with me aside from some food, a blanket, and every weapon I could find.”
A wicked smile played over his face and Dinah feared she might be sick. “I rode my horse so hard he died after two days. I left him in the woods, barely stopping to put him out of his misery. From there, I tracked the Cards to the edge of the Yurkei Mountains, where they were attempting to find their way into Hu-Yuhar, the hidden Yurkei city, and failing miserably. It was a small group of only six men.”
Sir Gorrann smiled and stroked his beard with disturbing fondness. Dinah was suddenly very afraid of him.
“I stalked and killed one each night, so that the rest might live in fear before their death’s imminent arrival. They called me the Night Ghost and wrongly assumed that I was a Yurkei assassin. It took six days to kill them all, and I relished each one. When at last my vengeance was complete, I left their bodies in the Twisted Wood, just like they had left my Amabel to die. I lived for months in these hills, eventually finding the will to continue on living. I made my way to Wonderland proper. There was nothing left for me in my village, or in the Twisted Wood. I never wanted to see those places again, those places in my memory where I had first seen my wife, or where we had conceived our child.”
Sir Gorrann cleared his throat and blinked before continuing along the uphill trail. His voice steadied. “I made my way to the palace, where I was blindsided by its size and wealth. Wonderland was not what I had expected and I was quickly eaten alive by city life. I wasted what little money I had brought with me on drink and women. I fell in with unsavory bedfellows, and s
oon was stealing to eat, then stealing to live. I was a good thief when I wasn’t drinking, but unfortunately that was more often than not. I was caught breaking into a lady of the court’s house while attempting to steal her jewels, so drunk I could barely stand. Her husband was a beast of a man and rightly beat me to a bloody pulp. I was thrown into the Black Towers.” Dinah’s mouth fell open and he managed to give her a rough smile.
“Yes, Princess, yeh aren’t the only one who has seen the horrors of the Black Towers. Luckily for me I was in the Thieves’ Tower, which only performs minimal torture. I was never strapped against its terrible roots.” Dinah said a silent prayer that Harris was not being strapped to the tree. Seeing him devoured from the inside as Faina Baker had been would surely be enough to break her.
“I was imprisoned in the Black Towers for two years. It was a dark time, but I managed to befriend a young Club who told me everything he knew about Wonderland, the Black Towers, and the Cards. I was let out a year later and forced to join the Spades, for which I am ever thankful. Thanks to the Spades, I had food, a place to live, and a purpose. Eventually I became the lead tracker for the King, and that led me to being here with yeh now.”
Dinah frowned as she sent a scattering of pebbles rolling down the steep mountainside. “I still don’t understand why you sought to help me. You’re a Spade, therefore you are loyal to the King and the Cards. You have betrayed your oaths in a grand way.”
The Spade climbed up onto an overhead ledge to view their surroundings and then looked down on Dinah, who observed him with confused admiration. She scrambled up the path behind him, finally approaching the summit of the mountain.
The Spade stood before her, his stare intense. “Indeed, that’s correct. I have broken my vows by helping yeh. I have abandoned the Cards. I have helped the most-wanted person in Wonderland. And for what? Surely yeh’ve assumed that there was something I left out of the story, and yeh would be correct. One person remains against whom I must take out my vengeance for the life of my family, a man who took everything precious from me. And even though it has taken me thirty years, I will have my vengeance, though not through typical means.
“The raid that killed my family was ordered by a young king, recently crowned by his father. He longed to impress his men, to show them his raw strength, so he rode out with a scouting party, devouring everything in his path. He was present at the raid that destroyed my village, but then was called back to Wonderland on royal business. This man I could not kill silently while creeping through the woods, for he is guarded night and day by fighters more skilled than I. To take his life is not enough. I must see him fall, to see everything that he loves stripped from him.”
Dinah stared at the Spade as fat drops of rain drenched them both. Lightning snaked across the gray sky. “This is why I help yeh, and this is why we hike endlessly through these mountains. The man yeh called father is the man who ordered the raid on my village, and someday we will both have our vengeance for the loved ones that he has taken from us.”
Dinah stared at the Spade, not sure what to say while her head reeled with potent thoughts and emotions. An empty hiss of air escaped her lips as she wiped a stray tear from her eye with the back of her hand, mingling with the rain that was now coming in sideways. Her pain was nothing compared to his loss, and yet she felt a sting of anger burning through her. His motivations had finally shown, and she was aware of just how close she was to a man who could have taken her life a dozen times before she woke.
Finally, she found the words she was looking for and began to speak. “Sir Gorrann, I am sorry for the loss of your family, but I have no intention of returning to Wonderland Palace. Not now, not ever. Now if you will please tell me where you are leading me, I’m certain we can—”
“QUIET, FOOL!” hissed the Spade, his head turning swiftly to the west. Morte’s ears perked up. There was only silence, and then something. The crunch of a leaf, the sound of a step on the trail below them. “Hurry!” he yelled. “Someone’s following us. We must make haste. Hurry yer steed. We must pass over this summit, and quickly. If he can’t keep up, leave him behind. We must go now.” Fear churned through Dinah as she gripped the leather reins, pulling Morte as quickly as she dared up and over the rocky slope.
Chapter Seven
Coming up and over the rocks, they ran into a sheer cliff face. An enormous slab of gray rock loomed before them, extending its jagged ends into the noon sun. Hundreds of boulders filled the small space, as if a giant had been playing with his toys and left them in a terrible pile.
“We’re trapped!” Dinah hissed. “Where did you lead us?”
Sir Gorrann was scanning the face of the wall, up and down, searching for something Dinah couldn’t see. There were several footsteps now, echoing off of the ledges below, the sound of more than a dozen men, inching ever closer. At first Dinah was confused as to why they had not been swarmed over already, but then she understood. Whoever tracked them wanted to push them over the cliff face. And Morte was with them. No man, Card, or Yurkei wanted to be the first one over the ledge. Sir Gorrann continued to search between boulders.
“What are you doing?” Dinah screamed. “We have to fight!” Finally, Sir Gorrann found what he was looking for. Two boulders, perfectly aligned, of equal shape and size. Upon first glance, there was nothing extraordinary about them, but on further inspection, their identical shape, marking, and color was unnerving. Dinah ran to Sir Gorrann, her sword drawn.
“Put that away,” he mumbled. “You could not fight what threatens to push us off this ledge.” As they crept around the boulders, the Spade took a bold step between them. What should have ended in a smacked head made him disappear completely. Dinah blinked several times before she was able to decipher this boggling—and genius—illusion. The two boulders were actually one, carved to look separate, like two stones. They looked as though they were pressed up against each other, but their carved lines hid a tall hole. On the outside, they appeared as two normal boulders. But from the perfect angle, the narrow doorway was easy to spot. Dinah knew she never would have been able to find it on her own.
“Through here!” shouted the Spade. Something churned in her stomach as she looked into the inky tunnel. It was a lurking, terrible feeling, a fear that distorted and confused. She recognized immediately—this was how she felt when the root had twisted into her mouth. The despair was unmistakable—there was evil in that tunnel.
“No. No, I can’t go in there.”
Sir Gorrann grabbed her arm and practically tossed her inside. “We have no choice, Princess. Move!”
She opened her mouth to object, but there were no other options. Head bowed, she followed Sir Gorrann’s mare through the narrow opening. Morte gave a great huff and stomped the ground furiously, his hooves sending booming echoes through the quarry. The ground seemed to shudder. Finally, once Dinah took her hands off his reins, he ducked his head and entered the tunnel willingly. The sides of his flanks brushed against the wall. He was unfamiliar and uncomfortable in this rocky terrain. His ears were flattened against his head, and Dinah could see his muscles tensed and ready to run. She felt a sudden rush of panic.
Sir Gorrann, his mare, Dinah, and Morte were stacked end to end, moving as quickly as they dared. If Morte should panic and bolt, they would all be trampled under his crushing weight. Sir Gorrann glanced back at Morte, his face pale and drawn. He had obviously come to the same conclusion. They paused, their hearts humming loudly in their closely drawn quarters.
“This is a wicked place,” breathed Sir Gorrann. “Let’s hurry. Keep yer devil calm.” The tunnel was maybe a half mile long, and from the moment they entered, an all-encompassing darkness draped them like a heavy blanket. Overhead, Dinah could hear the slight slithering of roots, a whispered hiss, and the sound of a thousand tiny legs. Something dripped onto her cheek, something warm and smelling of blood. Her hand brushed up against something wet and rubbery and she leapt toward the mare with a shriek. Morte was becoming mor
e and more agitated, and Dinah forced herself to remain calm as a wet tendril caressed her cheek in the darkness. Something was crawling in her hair, something that made tiny clicking sounds with a sharp mouth. It scuttled across her forehead and leapt onto the wall. The walls around them were alive, raising their voices in a hissed chorus. Evil, evil, evil. Sir Gorrann pressed himself against the wall to let Cyndy pass, and Dinah felt his hand close around her wrist, grateful for the warmth of his calloused fingers. Something wet and long encircled their wrists and then slunk away into the tunnel.
“Do not run. Do not run.” He repeated the mantra again and again, convincing himself rather than Dinah. Dinah did not need the reminder. As terrible as the tunnel was—and it was the foulest place she could ever dream, a place of nightmares—there would be nothing worse than being trampled alive and left to die in this place, to have your body consumed slowly by whatever demons thrived in this dark corridor. She would not run. If she ran, Morte would run, and they would all die. Her pace stayed steady, and her hand tightened around Sir Gorrann’s in a show of strength. She would keep him calm. They stayed silent, afraid their voices would collapse the rock inward, or even worse, stir up the invisible creatures to aggression. A wild fear of the unknown pressed against Dinah’s brain and she found herself remembering every dark thing that had ever happened to her. She saw death, bodies, the King. Charles, with worms crawling out of his eyes. Vittiore, wearing her silver crown. The dead farmer, the arrow in his back leaking blood.
She stumbled once, twice… again. Sir Gorrann was having a hard time as well, murmuring violent things to himself as he bumped off the wall, falling over his own feet. Some slithery heavy thing had settled on his shoulder, and he struggled to wrench it away. Dinah kept walking. She couldn’t help him. Her hope was gone. The steam from Morte’s nostrils was burning her elbow now, his muzzle pressed against her back. He was pushing, pushing, faster now. We’re going to die in here, she thought. Another thought occurred to her—perhaps they were already dead. Perhaps this tunnel was death, in all its hideous finality.