“One day Swete came home and he was mumbling, nervous, terrified. He clutched a package in his hands and kept glancing around nervously. Said that he had to hide something, said that Lord Sander had fallen in with someone unsavory. Sander owed a debt, a debt to someone dangerous. Swete feared for Lord Sander’s life, and now I wonder if he feared for his own as well. That day he swore to me that he was never going back to Lord Sander. I didn’t ask about the details—I was blinded, you see, happy to have my son back, so I didn’t want to upset him. I asked him to show me what was in the package, and he said he couldn’t. So I didn’t ask again. That was almost a year ago.” She wiped tears from her eyes.
“Things returned to normal. Then the Queen of Hearts—er, I mean you—rode on our fair city. Lord Sander died on the battlefield—a knife to the throat!—but we fared okay. Swete returned safely from outside the north wall, gods be good. Two days after the battle, we began making bread again. The Cards needed it. But a week later, my son went to bed, and the next morning, he was gone. His clothing and bags were still there, and his bed had been barely disturbed. All that was left of my son was a single drop of blood, left in the middle of his pillow. I looked for the package but couldn’t find it. I have no proof. I have no son.”
Dinah knew where the package was. She dropped her eyes as thoughts raced through her brain. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Sorry? Why should you be sorry? Lord Sander should have been sorry for what he did to my son, my innocent boy. He wrapped him up in his shady dealings, and now I have no son, no husband, no family. I am glad for Lord Sander’s death. I would dance on the man’s grave.”
Ruby Thorndike picked up the loaf of bread that had fallen to the ground, brushed it off, and placed it back on the cart. “I am sad for his family. His wife was a kind woman who took to Swete. But whoever Lord Sander got involved with took or murdered my son. I am sure of it.”
Dinah turned away from the woman to hide her face. Her heart raced. The pieces were falling into place, but she wanted a quiet spot to think. The sun would be rising soon, and she needed to get back to the palace.
“We must go,” she muttered. “Now.”
Dinah nodded at Ki-ershan, who swiftly gave the woman a single heavy gold piece, equal to two years’ wages. She gasped.
“I know that this cannot buy your son back. If I were you, I would take this money and head for one of the towns on the Western Slope. Start a new life. It is for your silence, and for your loss. Go now, and do not wait. Wonderland is no longer a safe place for you.”
The woman’s hands shook. “Thank you, Your Majesty! How can I hope to repay you?”
Dinah paused a moment and then plucked a loaf of warm bread from her cart.
“This will do nicely. Thank you.”
Dinah walked away from the woman, who gazed after her with amazement.
As they ran back to the palace, Ki-ershan was obviously annoyed by her much slower pace, but it couldn’t be helped. Dinah was overwhelmed. She felt as if the stars themselves were falling all around her, like she was back in the Sky Curtain. Everything around her plummeted to the ground, illuminating all the parts of her mind that had lain dormant for weeks. Her heart and chest, already bloody and raw from what she had done to Alice, felt like they were ripped open.
In this still night, all was so clear, but Dinah knew if she hesitated for even a moment, it would become cloudy again. Her mind reeled as she connected the pieces, and she began to see things take shape in the dark, things that she hadn’t let herself ever consider before. She let out a long breath as her strong legs pumped underneath her. Ki-ershan’s eyes glowed in the darkness. To anyone watching, the sight of the queen and a Yurkei warrior racing toward the palace would be strange indeed.
Dinah pulled the hood of her cloak back over her head. There will come a day, she thought, when I will no longer have to sneak around. There will be no more whispered secrets, no more insistent fear and doubt. Memories flooded her senses, and everything fell swiftly into place. Charles, giving her the crown. Charles, his tiny body cradled in her arms. Lord Delmont, poisoned. Lord Sander, killed in battle. Swete, poor innocent Swete, who never knew what he held in his hands. The swirling flurry of questions in her mind fell to the ground. Behind the confusion and doubt was only one person. One person who was probably already aware of what she was seeking. He was the key to her rule, to her crown, to her fate. He was always one step ahead of everyone.
Her father, the man in the purple cloak.
Cheshire.
Seventeen
The next night was void of stars, as if they knew what was about to transpire. Dinah’s fingers shook in the cool night as she clutched a dagger marked with a purple amethyst, a gift from her father. She had thought like him, planned like him, and now she waited for him. This was Dinah’s first time in the Spades’ barracks, which were in the process of being completely torn down. And while she had supported the rebuilding of the Spades’ residences, she had not fully understood why until now. Under the shadows of the Black Towers, the Spades’ barracks were the equivalent of a shantytown. Stacked and cornered, each little stall pressed uncomfortably against the one before it, the barracks were more a prison than a home.
Inside was a maze in shades of black—black walls made with black wood. There were very few windows. Small tree roots of the Black Towers rose and fell all across the ground. The soil underneath her feet was grainy and soft at the same time, and quite hard to navigate without tripping. A feeling of hopelessness—a little sadness, a little madness—made the rooms feel even more dark and ominous. It was the same feeling that Dinah had experienced in the Black Towers, only diluted to make the place barely livable. No wonder the Spades were so angry. The Black Towers fed off their misery and then gave it back to them.
When Wardley had shown up in the Darklands so many months ago with an army of Spades behind him, Dinah had been amazed that the Spades had defected so easily from the Cards to join her side. Now that she had witnessed their living conditions, and the vein of unease that ran through the ranks, she understood completely. The Spades were desperate for change. It was her privilege as queen to be able to give it to them. Sir Gorrann, as usual, had been right about everything.
She let her weight shift from foot to foot, her thoughts lingering always on Alice or Wardley. The night huddled protectively around Dinah and her Yurkei guard. There was a faint creak of wood, the slightest of breezes, and the ominous feeling of darkness approaching. Dinah shut her eyes and willed herself to listen, as she held her breath in the pitch-black barracks. She could sense a man moving through the rooms like a cat on silent feet. He made no sound. Everything around her moved slowly, purposefully. A drop of water falling from the ceiling took years to reach the ground. A paper fluttered in the breeze, circling and dancing across the disgusting floor.
She felt Ki-ershan’s mouth brush her ear.
“Uhlaet.” Breathe.