“Fight today not for yourselves, but for every prisoner in the Black Towers, for every Spade never able to take a wife, for every Yurkei who lost his land to a greedy line of kings! Fight today for them, fight today for me!”
She paused and drew her finger dramatically across her neck.
“Off with their heads!”
The army answered back, “Off with their heads!”
The entire army was flooding toward her now, spurred on by her speech. Dinah turned Morte, holding his red leather reins as tightly as possible. He bucked and kicked, angry that he had not been unleashed as the rest of the horses flew past them. Wardley brought Corning up beside her, their silver armor blazing like a million suns.
“Dinah . . .” His voice washed over the walls she built in her heart to keep him out. She was powerless before him. She turned her head to meet his gaze. There was nothing else she could do, no lie she could tell. She stared unflinchingly into his eyes.
“Wardley, I love you. I always have and I always will.” She was not seeking the reply she would never hear; rather it was something she needed him to know. He gave her a sad smile that broke her heart all over again.
“I know, Dinah. And with the gods as my witnesses, I will die beside you today or see you crowned queen.”
Wardley held out his hand and she took it, lacing their fingers together. Together they stood for a moment as the Yurkei warriors rushed past them, two childhood friends whose lives had brought them somewhere unimaginable. He gave her hand a squeeze before releasing it. “Clear the path to the gates, and then retreat. Do you hear me?”
Dinah nodded and turned Morte in the direction of the palace. She could barely contain him now. A path had opened up before them, with Spades running past on either side.
“Try not to leave us too far behind,” yelled Ki-ershan, who was already getting a head start, galloping as fast as he could toward the palace. Sir Gorrann and Wardley began moving their horses toward the line of Cards as well, getting as far out ahead of Dinah as they could.
Sir Gorrann was screaming at her over the deafening noise. “Hold him! Hold him back!”
Morte’s body gave a violent jerk, and then another. Dinah held on to him, but it was like trying to hold a wave back from the shore with a simple leather strap. He was bucking and leaping so violently that Dinah’s arm cracked against his neck.
He was trying to buck her off. She was torturing him, she could feel that now. She could not contain his fury, any more than she could contain her own. Finally, she opened her eyes and faced the palace, taking just one deep breath. The Queen of Hearts released the reins.
“Go.”
Six
Morte shot forward, leaving clouds of dust behind his hooves. Together they were flying, his spiked hooves meeting the ground with immeasurable force. Dinah pressed hard against his neck. Within seconds, she passed Cheshire, then easily overtook Wardley and Sir Gorrann. The army of running Spades watched in amazement as they flew past, a black blur of physical power and fury. Dinah heard the cheers of the mounted Yurkei rise around her as she dashed by them toward the line of Cards, their shields raised and trembling as death itself thundered down on them.
The king’s Cards were prepared for a strike at the very front of the line, assuming that the enemy would penetrate their forces that way. And yet, as the Cards watched in horror, the front line of Dinah’s forces slowed and began to change shape as they grew closer. At her shout, the front line pulled back and the sides expanded in a wide half circle that flanked the castle. They reached around both sides and when it seemed they could stretch no longer, they met with Mundoo’s forces in the middle. The armies were merged, and they swallowed the Cards like a gaping, hungry mouth.
The Cards were taken by surprise and pressed close to each other in shock and fear. She was almost upon them now, and Morte showed no signs of stopping. I must clear a path to the gates, she thought. The Cards positioned their spears and swords as she approached, as if they were facing a normal steed. One of the soldiers in the front carried a mirrored shield, and just before they collided with the Cards, Dinah saw a distorted reflection of herself. Faina Baker’s words played in her mind.
Straddle the devil. . . .
Suddenly Dinah remembered Iu-Hora’s words to her that day in the tent filled with blue smoke.
Queen of Hearts, the daughter of two fathers, heed my words. You will pierce the heart of one man and cut out the heart of the one you love most. Follow the crumbs to find your throne and only then shall your head rest in the grass.
She blinked, the sweat running into her eyes. Did that mean she would die today? She almost didn’t care. Her senses heightened. Dinah could hear the men breathing, shouting. She smelled them, that pungent smell of fear and bloodlust that she, the Queen of Hearts, was causing. With a wicked smile, she opened up her heart and mind, letting the black rage that she constantly suppressed climb up her chest and flood her body. She allowed it to overtake her, its fiery taste seductive on her tongue. It tasted like blood. Seconds before entering the fray, she leaned forward and whispered three simple words to Morte: “Kill them all.” His body surged beneath her.
There was no time to draw her sword. She simply clung as tightly as she could to his neck and held on. The sound of Morte hitting the line was something she knew she would never forget—high-pitched screams, metal on bone, the ripping of flesh, the wail Morte released as he flew over the spears and into a throng of men pushing at him with swords and clubs.
Frothing at the mouth, he joyfully began striking out with his hooves as Dinah grasped him with all her strength. Without flinching, he trampled the two men in front of him, his huge hooves cracking their skulls and crushing their faces into pulp that burst against the ground. One man was impaled on his back hoof, and Morte stamped him again and again until his feet were free, leaving the man in pieces. Rising up on his hind legs, he spun and brought his crushing feet down upon three more men. He kicked a Club straight in the face, and when Dinah looked back, the man was faceless.
There was chaos all around her. Morte, covered in blood, ripped a man’s jaw from his face with his teeth. Sir Gorrann, beside her, plunged his sword straight through a Heart Card’s chest. The man fell off his horse, his blood pooling around him. His eyes rested momentarily on Dinah before he passed into the beyond. Dinah recognized him—he had been one of her palace guards. The sight shook her back to reality.