Later that evening, Dinah was sitting on a log in front of the tent, looking out in the direction of the palace, when Bah-kan returned with the Yurkei scouting party. The throng of Yurkei warriors surrounded her tent with their pale horses, the men’s glowing blue eyes all trained on Dinah. Bah-kan dismounted and walked over to where she sat.
“We searched the village, and the two villages beyond it. They are empty, Your Majesty. Each house and farm has been deserted, stripped of food, weapons, and livestock. We assume that the king has pulled all the villagers inside the palace walls. All available men have most likely been called up to battle.” He paused and rubbed his stubbly face. “While this does not bode well for our numbers, it at least guarantees our safety when we march through the villages tomorrow. There is no danger to be found where there are no enemies.”
Dinah thanked the warriors before releasing them to rest for the night. She sent Sir Gorrann to sleep as well, for she needed her loyal Spade at his best when they arrived at the palace. He bowed graciously before kissing Dinah on the forehead. “Sleep well, Queen.”
Her favorite Yurkei guard, Ki-ershan, lingered behind and sat down beside her tent, pulling a piece of bread from his bag. “Ji-hoy? How to say it? Uhh . . . roll?” he asked. She nodded. “Roll!” His Wonderlander speech was still broken but improving.
Dinah gladly took the roll and broke it open, releasing the rush of warm honey butter inside. “I’ll miss these,” she noted as she chewed. “This might be my last taste of Yurkei bread.”
Ki-ershan seemed nervous and quieter than normal, and Dinah’s curiosity was roused. She nudged him. “Well, out with it.”
“Your Majesty . . . I have request of you.”
“Yes?”
“I would like to stay with you. As guard, once you are queen. It would bring me great honor to”—he stumbled over his words—“serve you. I could be a bridge between my people and Wonderland.” He gestured out from his chest and then bonded his hands together.
Dinah was touched and laid her hand upon his soft cheek. “Ki-ershan, I would be honored to have you guard me. But are you sure that you don’t want to return to Hu-Yuhar? Wonderland Palace is a very different place from your peaceful city. You would feel much less free there, and I can warn you from experience that the life of royalty can sometimes be very dull.”
Ki-ershan smiled. “It would not be . . . dull.” He tasted the new word on his tongue. “My wife died last year. She had the sickness in Hu-Yuhar. Iu-Hora tried to save her, but he was too late and his potions only eased her pain. She has passed into the sky; her soul rests in the valley of the cranes. Nothing is left for me there. Gye-dohur. Done. Protecting you is my life now. I could be translator for the Yurkei.”
Dinah gave him a dazzling smile, and he blushed. “That would please me very much. Thank you for honoring me with your request.” Dinah gave him a slight nod of her head, but Ki-ershan caught her chin on his finger.
“You may not bow to me. You are queen, and I will bow to you.” He awkwardly bowed before her and retreated a few feet to his tent, which was attached to Dinah’s. This was more than just mere courtesy—the Yurkei did not bow to Dinah, only to Mundoo, and so Ki-ershan had just committed his life to Dinah as his queen and leader. She found herself deeply moved.
As the night turned late, all the camp was silent. The collective breath of an army of nervous men was more deafening than any sound Dinah had ever heard. She was dressing for bed when her tent flap opened and Cheshire ducked his head through the entrance. She hastily pulled her robe shut, and he turned away awkwardly.
“Your Majesty, I’m sorry to catch you unaware.”
“I was just turning in, though I doubt sleep will come. Is something amiss?”
Cheshire pushed his way into her tent, though he was thoroughly uninvited. “Would you like to see the palace?” he whispered. His words caught Dinah off guard.
“What?”
“Come with me. Quietly.” She followed him outside, and they both climbed onto his red mare. Ki-ershan and Yur-Jee, always at the ready, shadowed on their horses. In minutes, they had reached the abandoned town. The windows stared at Dinah with their empty, dead eyes. It gave her the feeling of being watched. The horses galloped up a few vistas beyond the abandoned village before coming to the windmill that Dinah could see from her tent. With a grunt, Cheshire shoved open a rickety door to the windmill, his dagger drawn menacingly.
“You don’t need that,” hissed Dinah. “There is no one in this town.”
“You can’t be too careful,” he answered calmly.
“Wait out here,” Dinah instructed the two Yurkei. “We will be right back down.”
“I’ll go with you, my queen.” Ki-ershan dismounted his pale horse and brought up the rear, leaving Yur-Jee outside. Following closely behind Cheshire, Dinah wound up the spiral staircase that led onto the roof. The building smelled of rotting wood and the fetid stench of standing water. The giant heaving windmill blades vibrated through the walls and made a low growl as they spun around the well-worn axle. Once they reached the top, Cheshire seemed to step outside into thin air. Dinah cautiously followed, her feet finding a small ledge lined with a broken railing. She grasped Cheshire’s hand and stepped out onto the balcony. A summer wind rippled around them, and Cheshire’s plum cloak billowed out from the ledge like a banner. The ledge faced north, and for such a paltry structure, its view was made for a king.
A few villages covered the landscape, black dots on a sea of green-and-yellow grasses. Pale trails of moonlight cast long shadows on the valley, though the pebbled road quietly reflected its light. There were no signs of life in any of the villages. There was nothing to see, with the exception of Wonderland Palace, rising up in the distance, its glorious spires brushing the sky, with the ominous tips of the Black Towers looming behind them.
From there, Dinah could even see the outline of the Royal Apartments, spiraling red-and-white stones that seemed to reach into the heavens. She could just make out the tall iron wall that encircled the castle, the gates that her men would hopefully break open in a day. The palace pulsed with a warm light cast from its thousands of red stained-glass windows. From this balcony, she could even make out the largest heart window, the one that poured its light into the Great Hall. The Great Hall, where the King of Hearts gathered his generals, no doubt preparing to launch his massive defense of the palace. Where he drunkenly laughed at the idea of defeat at the hands of his weak daughter and the Yurkei chief.
“Do you think—”