Sir Gorrann paused before shivering once. “If we’re going to be chattin’ awhile, I’m building a fire. It’s cold as a proper lady’s bed up here.”
Dinah pulled her knees into her chest and shivered as she stared at the whitewashed valley that stretched out toward the east. “That man—you mean my father?” Sir Gorrann did not reply but instead made quick work building a small fire against the night chill from a dried bird’s nest. His skill was enviable, and soon warm flames crackled and hissed as they sat together in silence.
Finally, Dinah spoke, her voice breaking with emotional exhaustion. “What does he want me to do?”
Sir Gorrann shifted on the ground and withdrew a pipe. “Isn’t it obvious? He wants yeh to take what’s yers. Yer mother’s throne at Wonderland Palace. He wants yeh to rule.”
“And what do you want?”
Sir Gorrann blew a stream of smoke into the air, the tail end smelling of horses and sweet leaves. “I want yeh to do what yeh believe is right. I long for the king to be brought to justice, but I’ll bring him to justice one way or another, now or twenty years from now, either at yer side or by some other means. I’ll not make yeh carry my burden.”
Dinah frowned. “Justice.” She laughed wildly. “Do I not long for that as well? The king killed my brother. Cheshire saved my life.”
“That he did. And from the sounds of it, more than once. But yeh don’t owe him anything. Yeh do not want to owe a man like that. Do yeh understand? Yeh don’t.” The Spade’s voice was rising. Dinah shushed him with a glance. He took a breath. “Sorry. Do yeh believe him? About him being yer father?”
Dinah shut her eyes. That was the question, wasn’t it? She didn’t want to believe him. She wanted everything to go back to how it was long before—when she was a child in her mother’s arms, when Charles was still alive, when the King of Hearts was still her father and she could look on him with pride, even when she trembled in fear at his fury. Back to a time when Wardley was near, an apple in one hand and reins in another. Dinah considered carefully before she spoke.
“I don’t want to believe him, and yet, when he said those . . . things, I could feel that pieces of my life that were scattered about were clicking into place, like a key in a lock. Everything fits together now, in a way it didn’t before.” She shook her head. “It makes sense—why I don’t look anything like my father—er, the king—or Charles. Why the king hated me my entire life, why he beat my mother, why he so frequently escaped to go to war. Why he never wanted me to share his throne.” She let out a low scream before beating one clenched fist against her chest. “Gods, I am such a fool!”
No sooner had her voice echoed over the rocks than a loud clamor of high screams echoed back. Both Dinah and Sir Gorrann froze in place. The screams grew louder, until Dinah realized that what she was hearing was a growing cacophony of high-pitched birdcalls. Crawling on her hands and knees, Dinah cautiously peeked over the edge of the stone circle and immediately felt her stomach drop. What she had guessed to be nothing but whitewashed stone of the valley were actually birds, hundreds of thousands of white cranes nesting fifty feet below the edge of the cliff. Their rising sound was deafening, and Dinah felt her pulse quicken. The birds could kill them both. With newfound understanding, she glanced back at the religious markings on the ground, the dark brown spots that stained the stone in certain places. She closed her eyes and saw a prisoner, tied down to the stone, left for the birds. Oh gods.
Sir Gorrann looked over the edge with a grimace. “We shouldn’t stay here long.”
Dinah watched the cranes in silence, her black eyes wide with fascination. The birds eventually calmed down, their wings tucking back, settling into their one massive nest. Dinah thought she spotted the body of a horse. It was still moving slightly. Their cries faded, and Dinah spoke quietly. “Cheshire wants me to reclaim my throne. He thinks I am a conqueror. A conqueror without an army.”
“The Yurkei will fight for you.”
“Fight for me?” She laughed out loud. “They hate me. Have you seen their faces when I walk by?” She saw them then, their glowing blue eyes following her every move, their brows knotted in fury. “The Yurkei will fight for Mundoo. Besides, there aren’t very many of them, not compared to the Cards.”
“Have you ever seen the Yurkei fight?” replied Sir Gorrann. “One Yurkei can best four Cards.” He shook his head. “They move with a certain swiftness. It’s unnerving.”
“It’s still not enough,” she corrected him. “If it did happen, which I’m not saying it will, how would it . . . work?”
Sir Gorrann took his time phrasing his careful reply, one eye trained on the simmering crane nest below. “Cheshire has been meeting with Mundoo for a few days now.”
Dinah bit her lip. So that’s where Mundoo had been going.
“They are still hammering out an acceptable treaty. From what I can gather, in return for fighting for yeh, they will get all their lands back, and probably much more.”
Dinah shook her head in amazement. “What are we talking about? Just a few hours ago, I was a prisoner of the Yurkei, and a few weeks before that, an outlaw, and before that a princess!”
Sir Gorrann shook his head. “Yeh never were just a prisoner.”
“Maybe I just want to be a prisoner! Or a nobody! Maybe I just want to stay here and live a normal life. Have you considered that?”
Sir Gorrann’s golden eyes studied her face. “Yeh don’t want that. I know yeh.”
Dinah felt a blush rise up her cheeks. “It doesn’t matter. What you’re telling me is that I’m to lead an army to Wonderland Palace that may be defeated? Am I correct? You’re saying that I should lead this endeavor in a doomed attempt to sit on a throne because my mother once sat there?” Her voice was growing ever louder, more and more agitated. She felt the fury rising in her chest, the black boiling. She leaped to her feet. “Look at me and tell me—who am I, Sir Gorrann? Who do you see when you look at me? Do you see my father’s daughter? Do you see Cheshire? Do you see a whimpering girl or a Yurkei warrior? A spoiled princess? A conqueror? And who are you? A lonely man? Do you hope for a crown upon your head, Sir Gorrann?”
She was yelling now, and she could hear the squawks from below as the birds began to stir once again.