But he is alive, thought Dinah. His heart beats.
She had begun to ask of his family when the Spade turned slightly, his ears pointed at the sky. “Be silent!” he whispered. Dinah froze in place. Without making a sound, the Spade ran over to his pack and withdrew a bow and arrow. Her heart thudded in her ears, and she looked at the dark wood around them as a shiver of dread made its way up her spine. She took in the moss-covered rocks and the thin white trees that ringed their nightfire. There are worse places to be laid to rest, she thought. At least I’m here under the stars.
The Spade lifted the bow, his muscled arms quivering as he tracked something across the dark sky that Dinah couldn’t see. Finally, he exhaled and released the arrow. Dinah heard a thwap, followed by the sound of something falling through dried leaves. The Spade darted into the wood. She was alone. The day I find out what he wants,she told herself, is the day I will leave this Spade behind. There was a rustling from the trees, and something landed with a sickening crack at her feet. It was the hawk, the tracking hawk, its beautiful deep red feathers mottled with black blood, an arrow through its neck. Dinah looked up at the Spade—and the admiration written across her face betrayed her.
He gave a laugh at her surprise. “Chicken, Princess?”
Five
For the first time in weeks, Dinah slept long and deep, without dreams of bloody Heart Cards or anything else that woke her in terror. It was late morning when she rose to a loud clanging. She shielded her eyes as she sat up. The Spade was clanging his swords together and watching how the blades ran over each other. Dinah was understandably unnerved by this.
“Morning, Princess.” The Spade tossed a small loaf of bread in her direction, and Dinah tore into it with ravenous bites. “Not very delicate, are yeh?”
She made a face in his direction.
“Now, get yerself up so I can begin yer training. I’ve seen eight-year-old girls that can wield a sword better than yeh.”
“I highly doubt that,” replied Dinah, brushing the crumbs off her cheeks. She handed a small piece of her bread to Morte, who almost bit her fingers off.
“On the contrary, I was raised in a village where every child could defend themselves.”
Dinah was curious about this man. “Where was your village? And what makes you think your children could defend themselves? Spades can’t even have chil—”
She didn’t have a chance to finish. The Spade swept both her feet out from under her, and Dinah landed hard on the small of her back. All the air rushed from her lungs. She barely had time to react before the tip of his sword drew a line across her cheek. He bowed before her. “Now we have matching scars.”
Dinah leaped up and flung herself against him, and they both tumbled to the ground. The Spade easily flipped her facedown into the dirt and then proceeded to keep her down with his boot, standing on top of her. Though his actions were quick and rough, his tone remained calm. “Yeh’ll not say one word about my family, understand? Now, are yeh ready to learn?”
Dinah writhed under his foot before shouting at him, “Get off me. I command it!”
The Spade’s gruff laugh echoed off the rock faces around them as he continued to balance on top of her. “Ah, Princess. Before yeh can learn to fight, yeh must let go of the idea that anyone in Wonderland gives a care about yer fate. Yer no longer a royal playing sticks with the stable boy. Yer no longer a princess—or anyone, for that matter. Yer a wretch, a wanderer in the forest. Think about it. Are yeh her? Are yeh that girl, the girl who would be queen?”
Dinah considered for a moment, her face bleeding into the dirt. He was right. She was no longer the princess who loved to watch pink snowflakes swirling down from the cloudy sky, one who could command the bowed knee of every person in the room. She was here, in the middle of the wilderness. She was starving, she was broken and bleeding, and there was a Spade literally standing on her back. All this and yet Dinah felt more in control of her fate than she had the past few months at the palace. There was a freedom in having nothing to lose.
“Let me stand. I said, let me stand!” She rolled over quickly, which caused him to lose his balance. Then she grabbed hold of the Spade’s leg and dug her teeth into his calf.
He let out a yell and hopped away. “Yeh bit me! Who bites someone?”
Dinah shuffled to her feet, unsteady, bleeding from the lip and covered with dirt. She spat on the ground. “C’mon, you dirty Spade—teach me to fight.”
He rubbed his beard. “Ah, there’s the girl who slapped me for a toy, I knew yeh were there somewhere.” He tossed Wardley’s sword at her, and Dinah managed to catch it without slicing her hand open. This, however, was to be the highlight of her day. The rest of that morning was spent getting bruised, hit, and cut open by the blunt end of Sir Gorrann’s sword. Every strike was deflected and every move of her body was analyzed in an effort to find her weaknesses, which turned out to be everything.
As he flew around her, his voice never stopped lecturing. “Any move off balance and yeh belong to the enemy. A good swordsman can tell when his opponent is off balance and will use it to his advantage.”
Dinah tried to maintain perfect balance while wielding the sword but it never worked—she was always tipped slightly to one side or the other. The Spade continued to knock her to the ground with ease, but after a few times she leaped up quickly, at the ready to fight again.
“That was good. Work on getting back in the fight. Yeh must learn to respond quickly when yer down. It can make the difference between victory and defeat. Now, give me back yer sword. We’ll try again tomorrow to correct yer balance, but until then yeh do not deserve it.”
Dinah clutched Wardley’s blade close to her chest. I have earned the right to this blade, she thought, I will not give it up so easily. She felt bold. “Come and take it!” she declared.
He did, and left her lying on a rocky ledge, out of breath, with a bloody nose.
Once the morning ended, Sir Gorrann erased all traces of them at the campsite and they continued to weave their way deeper into the Yurkei Mountains. The terrain was ever changing. The ground rose and fell in rocky slopes, like waves of rock that crested and broke, spilling their huge boulders upon gorgeous green valleys before rising again. It was a physically exhausting climb, and Dinah periodically looked longingly at Morte, but he ignored her completely. Only once, when Dinah slipped on a rock and tore her shin open from top to bottom did Morte pause and lift his leg. Dinah wearily climbed onto his massive back while Sir Gorrann watched with fascination.