She ran. It didn’t take long for her to come to the end of the forest, and when she emerged from the trees, she was surprised to see a sheer cliff face rising up before her, looking like bone in the white moonlight. Dinah buried her face in her hands as she gradually remembered where she was: the Yurkei valley, surrounded by mountains. There was nowhere else to go, nowhere but up—there was no escape. She looked around for a few minutes before spotting the winding path that Sir Gorrann had mentioned a few days ago. It was steep, looping over on itself as it snaked its way up the mountain, narrow but well-worn. Dinah found herself running up the path without consideration. She just needed to flee, to anywhere, to anything. It was all too much. The path climbed higher and higher into the sky, until Dinah was surrounded by a thick white mist that clouded her vision. She pressed her back against the wall and continued her crablike climb until the ghostly mist gave way to cool air.
Dinah was out of breath when she reached the top of the cliff face, gasping for air, for clarity. She swayed on her feet and was surprised to find herself toeing the line of consciousness. The healed wound on her shoulder ached and pulsed with each frayed inhale, and Dinah found herself heaving onto the pebbly ground. She rested her head on the cool stone for a few minutes, focusing on breathing normally again. Wiping her mouth, she pushed off of her knees and looked around.
She was truly alone in this wondrous place. The ground before her was flat and made of stone—a circular platform carved from the mountain and dropping into air on each side. Small etchings had been carved into the ground, tiny little marks that told an ancient story of sacrifice and redemption. They were the religious markings of the Yurkei tribe. She ran her fingers lightly over them. Harris would have loved to see this—he found the Yurkei religion fascinating. Dinah lifted her eyes and looked out past the edge of the stone circle. She could see the entire Yurkei valley if she stood on one side—the floating white tents attached to the side of the mountain, each of them emitting a dim glow from a flameless light. The great stone birds stood erect and silent with Mundoo’s tent suspended between them. The flowing creek behind the tents gurgled contentedly. It was a quiet night in Hu-Yuhar—the only noise coming from the herds of wild horses playing in large groups below, their happy whinnies soothing to her ears.
Dinah let her eyes wander to the northernmost part of the valley, and they rested upon the subtly lit forest, where Cheshire waited for her, his long hands clasping a tea cup. He was still there, no doubt biding his time before he could crush everything she knew into a fine powder, like the sugar that dusted his brooch. Cheshire—her father? Dinah pressed her hands against the unyielding stone. Could this be true? And if it was? Should she be grateful that her own father did not try to kill her, but rather saved her life? Or should she be furious that her entire life was a well-orchestrated lie? The truth had been kept from her, not only by Cheshire but by her own mother, the only person who truly loved her. Her mother, Davianna, who had loved Cheshire and betrayed the King, her mother with her soft hands and deep laugh, those hands that wrapped around Cheshire’s waist as they danced in the Great Hall, the same hands that had always caressed Dinah’s face so lovingly…. Dinah shook her head to clear the image. Was this just another of Cheshire’s games? It was possible, but there was an unmistakable thrumming in her heart that told her it was not.
Part of her wished that she had slit his throat before he could speak. Or did she? Dinah didn’t know what she wanted. Her emotions whirled, a churning storm inside of her. Was she to become a grateful, doting daughter? The warrior he had been training her to become? An exiled princess, a Yurkei prisoner? Was she full of rage like the man she believed to be her father, or full of grace like Charles, now her half brother? If she was not the daughter of the King of Hearts, but the daughter of Cheshire, now a traitor—what was she now? Who was she now?
“Who would you have me be?” she angrily called to the stars, tonight all circling around one singular bright star that lingered lazily over the mountains. Her voice rose to a strained yell, choked with emotion. “I SAID, who would you have me BE?”
“I think yeh know,” answered a familiar voice.
Dinah didn’t bother to turn around. “How did you find me?” she sniffed.
He gave a gruff laugh. “I’m a tracker, remember? It wasn’t exactly hard—there was nowhere else for yeh to go but up. Yer in a damn valley.” She lowered her eyes, refusing to look at him. “You best not go any farther though, lest Mundoo think you are trying to escape. I fancy breathing.”
She spun around to face him. “You work for him, for Cheshire. You betrayed me. You lied to me.”