I squeeze the teddy bear under my arm.
"It wasn't little Alice who came back to the mortal realm, was it?" I ask, facing the chair's back.
"No." Morpheus's answer comes from behind me and I spin, almost falling. His wings sweep over him like an eclipse as he bends to steady me.
I shove him away.
Arching an eyebrow, he smooths his silver and black pin-striped suit. Between the suit and the punkish hair, he looks like an emo gangster.
"You were waiting for me to come through the portal?" I accuse. "Then who's—" No need to finish. Rabid White tumbles over the chair's arm into view, pink eyes aglow. Of course. He's in league with Morpheus, which means he's only been pretending to be my enemy. They've both been playing me all along.
The cadaverous creature lays the hookah hose aside and bows to me. "At your service be I, fair queen." His high-pitched voice drips sincerity.
I exhale to steady my wobbly insides. "I'm not the queen. And I don't want your service." I turn back to Morpheus.
"I believe you're being dismissed, Sir Rabid." Morpheus keeps his fathomless gaze on me. "No doubt she'll call upon you soon enough, just as Grenadine once did. When she's officially queen, she shall covet your talents as an experienced and devoted advisor."
"Highness. Loyally and always, ever yours." Rabid bows so low on his way out that his antlers set him off balance and he almost topples. He catches himself, then hops across the threshold, a rattling bag of bones in a waistcoat.
The door latches shut and I'm alone with Morpheus in a room of shadows and flashing firelight.
"Your spy," I say.
"Yes," Morpheus answers. "It never set well with him what Grenadine and the Red Court did to Red. He wants to see Red's heir upon the throne almost as much as I do, to amend the injustice done to his true queen."
The play of the firelight across Morpheus's wild hair and otherworldly beautiful face spins me back into my memories. He was training me to be a queen. The Red Queen. And now I stand here, vulnerable, imprisoned by feelings he inspired in my youthful dreams: happiness and comfort, affection and admiration. But nostalgia is deceptive, and I shove it aside. Because everything has been a lie.
"What have you done to Jeb?" I ask, suppressing the urge to lunge at him and attack.
Morpheus's lips twitch a half smile. "He is here in the palace, safe. I'll allow you to see him soon. He wanted me to give you this." Fishing his gloved fingers into his jacket pocket, he draws a small crystallized bead between us so it reflects the firelight.
My wish. I thrust my hand out for it. I won't hesitate this time. I'll wish I never came at all, just like Jeb suggested… then we'll both finally be safe again.
Morpheus jerks back, holding it high. "It will stay in my keeping until the time is right." He tosses the bead into the air, then catches it with a deft twist of the wrist before tucking it back into his breast pocket.
Fury surges through me. I bide my time. I have to play this smart or I'll lose everything.
"Have a seat, Alyssa, princess mine." Morpheus gestures to the bed.
"If I sit anywhere, it won't be on the bed." I hug the teddy bear—my one bargaining chip.
"Surely you don't think I mean to seduce you? Wouldn't I have already taken advantage of your innocence at my manor, whilst I was watching you sleep?"
The reminder of that intimate moment, when his birthmark touched mine, sparks uncomfortable heat in my abdomen. "This entire quest has been a seduction, Morpheus. It's time to come clean."
He lifts the end of his red necktie and scrutinizes it, then scrubs at an invisible smudge. "There's nothing clean about betrayal, luv. And that's where the story begins, as you well know. Queen Red's court mutinied against her, her own husband joined the traitors in order to marry her stepsister, and it upended the balance of the realm. But you will restore the equilibrium." He tucks the necktie back into place.
"Because I'm her heir," I murmur, nearly choking on the words.
The proud smile on his face is luminous. "Figured it out, did you?"
I suppress the ache in my throat. "It was never about me fixing things. My family wasn't cursed by Alice's messes. We're not cursed at all. We're half-breeds."
He splays out his wings and arms. "Isn't it glorious?"
"You brought me here… set the scenes to fit the Alice story. Everything's been a game. Everyone's been playing a part. That's why most of them were different from the characters in the book. Everyone helped you… they were your accomplices."
"Yes. Characters playing the parts written for them in a book from the human realm. Some, anyway. Others played along unwittingly."
"The octobenus."
Morpheus nods. "Despicable. Murdered his best friend to appease a wave of gluttony. He deserved what he got. And the card guards? They are always expendable. Now, quench my curiosity, little plum." He gestures to the chair behind me. "Make yourself comfortable, and enlighten me on how you came to be a netherling princess."
I refuse to sit. A bitter taste burns my tongue. "A masquerade."
He frowns. "Pardon?"
I twist one of the teddy bear's ears. Filthy toes rooted into the carpet for support, I unleash the theory that came to me when I saw Sister One's chessboard. "The website. It said some netherlings take on the appearance of existing mortals. After Queen Red was exiled, she snuck through the Red castle's portal into the human realm."
"Pray tell, how did she manage that?" His voice is teasing, meant to goad me.
"She shares my magic… she found a way to distract the card guards. She coaxed the ribbon off Grenadine's hand by animating it—the ribbon that held a reminder of Alice's whereabouts. Then Red stepped into the mortal realm as the child. She grew up as Alice, fell in love with a mortal man as Alice, married and had children as Alice. Half-magical, half-human children, and heirs to her lost throne. The netherling characteristics only pass to the females, because Wonderland is ruled by queens." I'm hugging the bear now, so tightly I can feel Chessie's essence clawing for escape… begging to be free. Or maybe it's my own.
"Tell me more. You hold a captive audience." Morpheus's voice has changed, the teasing edge replaced by something ravenous and exposed.
I can't bring myself to watch his enthralled features, so I look at the fire's flames instead. "Red came back to Wonderland, a few months before the real Alice died. Somehow they traded places again. That's why the older Alice in the picture had no birthmark, when the younger one did. That's why she remembered nothing of her mortal life. It was stolen from her. She had no childhood, just like you said." My chest constricts with sadness almost as potent as when I cried out my wish. "Poor Alice."
"Yes. Poor, dear little Alice."
I search his expression. His reverence seems sincere.
A pained, poignant tenderness warms his eyes. "I tried to return her home, in her old age. I thought I was doing right by her, letting her die among her own. I stole into the Liddell house late one night, hoping to convince Red it was the right thing to do… hoping that with her family asleep in other rooms, we could make the switch undetected. Red was compliant, said she was tired of being old and feeble." A soft smile lifts one side of his mouth. "I tucked Alice into the bed where she would awaken among those who should've been her family all along. They were strangers to her, so I tried to prepare her, but her mind was too far gone to grasp it all. I held her hand until she nodded off, then left with Red for Wonderland. Upon our arrival at the rabbit hole's opening, the wretch changed her mind and turned on me, refusing to leave her family behind. She intended to murder Alice, then drag all the Liddells to Wonderland. To use her lineage to win back the throne she'd lost."
Morpheus regards the flames, the corners of his mouth tugging down. "I wouldn't let her go. We fought on the ground beside the sundial, then on wing in the trees. Red had me pinned to the uppermost branches of one, meaning to snap my neck. I cast her off, and she landed hard, impaled by the iron fence just below us. The metal went straight through her heart and poisoned her blood. I carried her down into the rabbit hole. I attempted an apology. But she would not forgive me. And she made sure I could never forgive myself as she took her last breath."
"Deathspeak," I whisper.
His gaze snaps to me, shock apparent on his face. Flickering light exposes the remorse in his eyes
I turn to the hearth again. "That's why you dragged me here. It was never about saving your friend Chessie. It wasn't even about Ivory being trapped. You're the one who's cursed. You need me to save your spirit from an eternity as a worm-eaten toy in Sister Two's lair."
"You judge too harshly. I do want to save my friends. It just happens that I can save myself in the process. I've been enslaved for too many years, racing against a ticking clock. Now, at last, I can make the hands stop. I can dethrone Grenadine and set the rightful heir in her place."
"Even if the heir is unwilling."
A heavy silence hangs between us.
Gently, Morpheus captures my chin, shifting my gaze to him. "What of the book I used as my storyboard, that one by the mortal bard Carroll. What are your thoughts on that?"
He's relentless, leading me deeper into a place of both darkness and light. "Carroll came up with the story. But Wonderland, the place, the characters and names… I think that Red, as little Alice, inspired him with the half-truths she used to explain her short absence. Her family all assumed she'd wandered off to have a dream beneath a tree." I frown. "Red became a child in every way, just like you once did. Her mind was innocent again. It's a good thing her little-girl's imagination took over. If she'd been completely honest about the dark, twisted creatures here, she would've been locked up in an asylum on her first day as a human." My attempt at sarcasm is wasted because I'm one of those dark, twisted creatures. I always have been. Only now I look the part.
"Splendidly told," Morpheus says. "And every bit of it, exactly as it was." He taps my nose. "Do you wonder how the details come to you with such ease?"
My answers were more than lucky guesses. It's as if the words were scripted on my tongue. Mentally, I thumb through each dream spent with Morpheus to see if he ever told me, but he didn't.
Morpheus draws me closer to the fireplace, studying my hairpin in the light. He brushes his thumb across it. "Anything of particular interest happen in the cemetery, other than your retrieval of Chessie's smile?"
I touch my hairpin, recalling my encounter with the rose. "Queen Red's spirit… it flashed through my veins before escaping into the garden. She must've imprinted some of her memories on me! That was part of the Deathspeak, wasn't it? You had to set her free, and you used me to do it."
With a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh, Morpheus pulls me into his arms and strokes my hair. His scent enfolds me, his chest solid and warm. As a child, his touch used to make me feel secure when he'd hold me under my arms during flying lessons. But not now. I stiffen for an instant before realizing I'm face-to-face with his lapel. Nothing but a layer of silver and black pinstripes stands between me and my wish. Instead of pushing away, I snuggle closer—drawing my hands up between us.
A tremor travels the length of his body in response, fingers weaving through the braids at my nape. "Lovely Alyssa. What a grand pupil you were," he mumbles, his mouth on the top of my head. "Yet you taught me more than I taught you. You are far more worthy to wear the crown than any other. Courage, compassion, and wisdom. The triad of majesties. You have something I could see even through the eyes of a child. You have the heart of a queen." His voice cracks on the end of his statement, as if he's saddened by it.
Gloved fingers—silken and confident—glide from my shoulders to my wrists. I curse him silently for moving my hands as he raises them to study the scars. He kisses them, his lips a fluid brush along sensitive flesh, then places my palms on his cheeks.
Mouth inches from mine, he whispers, "Forgive me for bringing you into this. There was no other way." His skin is softer than clouds must feel, and the tears gathering around my fingertips are hot and tangible. But are they sincere?
Our breaths swirl between us, and his black eyes swallow me whole. My heart knocks against the bottom of his rib cage. I know what's coming next. I fear it. But it's the surest way to distract him and get the wish. And if it has to happen, I'm going to be the instigator.
Rising up on my toes, I press my mouth to his. He moans, frees my wrists, and sweeps me into his arms—sealing the teddy bear between us. My ankles swing at his shins, and my hand creeps toward his lapel. I'm in control.
But it's a lie, because now I've tasted him. His lips are salty-sweet with yesterday's laughter… digging in the black sands beneath Wonderland's sunshine, playing leapfrog atop mushroom caps, and resting in the shade of black satin wings.
I try to shake off the spell, but he angles his face and deepens the kiss. "Embrace me… embrace your destiny." He breaks the barrier of my lips, touching his tongue to mine, a sensation too wickedly delicious to deny. As our tongues entwine, his lullaby purrs through my blood and bones, carrying me to the stars.
Behind closed eyes, I'm floating against a velvet sky, lungs filled with night air. On some level, I know I'm still in the middle of a fire-warmed chamber, yet my wings pantomime flight on a cool breeze. I'm dancing with Morpheus in the heavens, no longer imprisoned by gravity.
Fluttering our wings in unison, we twist and whirl a weightless waltz among stars that coil and uncoil in feathery sparks high above Wonderland's warped and wonderful landscapes. Each time we spin, then return to each other's arms, I laugh, because at last I'm me.
I'm a me I've longed to be in my innermost fantasies—spontaneous, impetuous, and seductive.
Morpheus promises a lifetime of dancing, a world where everyone obeys my commands. He shows me every piece and parcel of Wonderland that is mine. Down below, past the stars and night sky, I can see myself seated on a throne at the head of a table, hosting a feast with mallet in hand, prepared to strike the main course dead. Maniacal laughter echoes in the marble halls, sweet to my ears.
The scene makes me drunk with power. I kiss him again. He holds me tighter.
Beneath my feet, the stars burst into a thousand glittering colors: silent fireworks, just like the ones Jeb and I saw in the boat on our first night here.
Jeb…
The image of his dimpled smile slams into me like a gasp of ice-cold air. Memories of my mortal life intensify the frost: the pride and satisfaction of finishing a mosaic, the maple-sweet flavor of Dad's Saturday morning pancakes, Alison's tinkling laughter that feels like home, Jenara joking with me at Butterfly Threads, and Jeb… his loyalty, and his kisses, so magical yet so real.
The spinning in my head slows, like a top falling to its side. I'm back at the castle, pressed against Morpheus in a passionate embrace.
I have to finish what I started, or risk becoming what he is.
I coax my palm into his lapel in search of my wish, returning his feverish kisses. "Checkmate, you son of a bug," I say against his mouth two seconds before my fingers find an empty pocket.
"Sleight of hand, blossom," he says right back. "'Tis in fact in my pants pocket, if you'd like to search there."
I shove him off and drop to the floor, wiping my mouth. "It's mine!"
"And you'll receive it when the time is right." His lips, all I can look at, tilt into that smug smile that I've come to detest. He motions toward the chair. "Sit. You've just been soundly kissed. No doubt you're short of breath."
"Don't flatter yourself." I huff in an effort to hide a gulp of air and hold the teddy bear against my chest. "That kiss meant nothing. It had underlying motivation."
"Oh, to be sure. That kiss was nothing if not motivational."
Maybe it's wishful thinking on my part, but his pale complexion looks flushed as he turns the chair around so its back is to the fire. Considering that my stomach is a pendulum in full swing, I hope he's at least a little rattled.
Cheeks hot, I sit on the warm cushions, my wings ornamenting the arms like lacy, jewel-studded doilies. I can't pin down my emotions. I shouldn't have kissed him. How could I do that to Jeb? But I did it for us, so he'll understand, right? As long as I never mention how it affected me, how I almost drowned in Morpheus's seduction, in my own darkest desires…
"Have I commented on your loveliness tonight?" Morpheus asks, compelling me to look at him. His eyes follow the lines of my gauzy appendages. "There's something about a lady in wings. You wear them well. You're exquisite, in fact. Just like a netherling princess should be."
The drag of his gaze alerts all my nerves, forcing me to relive his lips on mine. A touch of his hand would've affected me less. I reach for his hat balanced on the chair's arm and flick the red moths so they dance. "Cut the crap, Morpheus. My clothes are shot, and I look like a marshmallow exploded on my back."
He chuckles, masculine and deep in his chest. "You've always been irresistible when you're cranky." He sits on the floor in front of me, pinstripe-clad legs crossed like a Boy Scout's. Too bad Jeb's not here to pound him to a pulp.
I punch the hat's brim, exasperated.
Morpheus flinches as if I hit him. "Careful. That's my Insurrection Hat. I've ne'er had occasion to wear it until today. The red represents battles and bloodshed, in case you were wondering."
"Doesn't interest me in the least," I answer, flinging it to the floor.
With a hiss through white teeth, he gathers his prize. "Bah. You're a descendant of Queen Red. You crave chaos. You're happiest when the world is in an uproar. You thrive on madness. Even your magic is at its best when it's the catalyst to confusion. You still can't admit this?"
I shake my head, not wanting it to be true.
He places his hat on his knee and shrugs, as if too busy to drag the truth out of me. "You will wash up and change. I've picked a stunning ensemble for you. A queen must dress properly for her coronation."
"I'm not going to be queen," I grumble.
"Perhaps not forever, but you will be temporarily. It is the condition of Red's Deathspeak. You must be crowned with the ruby tiara. Oh, and did I mention it's the only way to free your mortal knight?"
My chest constricts, the guilt overwhelming. Jeb.
"Take me to him. Now." I start to stand, but my wings refuse to cooperate. My tired muscles prove no match for their weight, which is suddenly overwhelming. I plop down in resignation and groan.
Morpheus clasps his hands in his lap. "You need a warm bath and some rest. As I said earlier, your pseudo elf is safe. How long he stays that way, however, depends entirely upon your performance tonight."
"You can't touch him!" The only things keeping me from tearing off those flashing jewels on his eye patches are my deadweight wings. "You made a vow you wouldn't hurt him. A vow. If you break it, you'll lose your wings, your dream manipulation… everything that makes you who you are."
"True. Wouldn't wish to lose my powers at such a precarious juncture." Firelight blinks across his clothes in swathes of orange and purple, intensifying the gangster circus-freak image. "But there was a stipulation, was there not? That I wouldn't hurt him as long as he stayed loyal to your worthy cause. Well, he proved himself an obstacle. He and I discussed your destiny a bit ago, and he has no desire to see you become queen. In fact, he became rather unmanageable at the suggestion." Morpheus lifts the hair at his forehead, displaying a goose-egg-size bruise. "Imagine that… most men would leap at the chance to be in bed with royalty."
"Shut up." A sob catches in my windpipe.
Be tough, Alyssa Victoria Gardner. I can almost hear Jeb's voice, can almost see the sincere faith in his green eyes. I'm not going to let him down again.
Patting the bear's mustard-scented fur, I take a steadying breath. "You said I could just be queen temporarily. Explain."
Morpheus relaxes, elbows on knees. "I want the vorpal sword to free my friends. But we need to crown you as queen to fulfill my Deathspeak. As luck would have it, King Red has the frumious bandersnatch guarding both sword and crown because his absent-minded queen kept misplacing her bloody tiara. So for us to get them, you must subdue the creature."
The jade chess piece with the wide, snapping mouth and spiked tail scrapes along my memory. It struck terror into my heart as a child, and that was just a plaything. Frumious. Anything that inspires its own adjective is a force to be feared. "Wait. No. Since you have control of this castle and the cooperation of the card guards, why can't you just force the king at swordpoint to get the items for us?"
"Grenadine is the only one who has the command the bandersnatch was trained to obey. It's a word passed down from queen to queen. But in the confusion of our takeover, Grenadine lost the ribbon that held that secret."
I bite my inner cheek, determined there has to be some way for us to skip this step. "Okay, but if Chessie's smile can tame the beast, then we can just cut him out of the toy here and release Chessie into the bandersnatch's lair. We can all wait out of danger until the bandersnatch is subdued."
"Ideally, yes." Morpheus drags the teddy bear out of my lap. Straining, he yanks the stitches apart. Before I can blink, the threads mend themselves, closing the gap. "You see?" he explains. "Because Sister Two's toys harbor the residue of a child's innocent love, the world's most binding magic, the only tool that can permanently sever these stitches is—"
"The vorpal sword itself," I mumble, rubbing the knot in my stomach. I take the teddy bear back and trace the pits where it once had eyes. "What happens if… after I tame the beast?"
"The White army has agreed to leave this castle upon the condition that the Red Court crowns a new queen and frees Ivory. Both courts will accept you as the rightful heir once you've fulfilled the final test and harnessed the power of the smile." An arrogant smirk crosses his lips. "I suspect King Red originally penned that with a knack for diplomacy in mind. But this interpretation hits all the high points. No one can argue that."
Apprehension snakes through me at the thought of standing before both courts. "So, I'll get crowned. Then Jeb and I can leave?"
"Once you're queen, you can force King Red and Grenadine to free Ivory. Wonderland will be in balance once more. Both portals will be open to you. And then"—Morpheus runs a finger along the bridge of his hat—"you may use your wish to cleanse your blood of netherling traits, which in turn will save your mum, and your children thereafter. The Red Court will appoint a new queen once you and your toy soldier return to the human realm."
Something about that last step doesn't sit right. First off, who else would they crown as queen? Second, how exactly would half of me—the netherling half—just disappear? Would I be wiped clean by some magical eraser?
Before I can air my reservations, Morpheus hits me with the only words that could cause me to forget everything else: "Would you like to see your mortal knight now?"
I'm at the edge of my seat, about to get up, but Morpheus kneels in front of me, ever the obstacle in my path.
"No need to stand, plum. You can see him from where you sit." Next to my right leg, he shoves his hand between the chair's cushion and frame. The nerve endings in my thigh sizzle. Eyes locked to mine, Morpheus drags out a small handheld mirror, its frame embossed with shimmery silver. He flips the glass side to me.
In some dank, dark place, Jeb bangs his head against prison bars. Blood trickles down into his face, and he totters backward, dazed.
My heart breaks in half—a pain so acute, it could launch a thousand wishes and fill a sea of tears. "Jeb, stop…"
"For reference"—Morpheus studies my reaction—"that is a birdcage. Our pseudo elf is the size of a sparrow. Upon word from me, the guards will feed him to Queen Grenadine's notoriously hungry cat, Dinah."
"No!" I skim my fingers over the cold glass and the image vanishes. I'm faced with only my reflection. The girl whose selfish desires brought Jeb into this journey to begin with. All because I wanted him to myself. But I never wanted this.
The sob I've been holding back rips loose. I was delusional to think I could sway this game to my favor. The checkmate's already been played. Morpheus has won.
"What will it be, Alyssa?"
The fire crackles behind me, a cat-o'-nine-tails whipping harsh tongues of light across his ruthless expression. I wipe my tears and level my gaze on his. There's no need for another word between us, because he already knows.
I'll do anything he asks of me now.
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