War of the Cards
“I’m here. I’m here,” she breathed, reassuring herself and reassuring him.
Cheshire knelt beside her. “Are you all right?”
Dinah looked up at Cheshire, then Morte, who gave a huff and pulled up his massive hoof before bringing it down hard beside her head, a deadly serious reprimand. The ground beneath it cracked under his colossal weight.
Dinah sat up. “I’m fine.”
Cheshire stood up with a sigh and smoothed his purple cloak, readjusting his brooch. “She’s fine,” he muttered to himself. “She’ll be the death of me, but she’s fine.” Then, with a raised eyebrow, he turned and walked away from Dinah.
Sir Gorrann looked at Dinah with fascination. “How did you know to go inside it?”
Dinah shook her head. She couldn’t explain. “I just did. How long was I in there?”
Sir Gorrann rubbed his beard. “’Bout a minute’s time. We could all see yeh floating there, turning up and down, but it was obvious you couldn’t see us.” He tilted his head. “What was it like?”
Dinah couldn’t explain it, and when she tried, she found the words all tangled on her tongue. “It was nothing. It was … like being free.”
She was interrupted by a howl of vicious wind that ripped down from the Sky Curtain, so powerful that it almost blew Sir Gorrann off his feet. The wind ceased, and the curtain stood still for a moment before a single star at the top began falling, cartwheeling through the curtain, hitting other stars on its way down. All the stars began to fall, each one colliding with others in burst after burst of green and yellow light. Everything inside the curtain was falling into brilliant destruction, mirrors of light and swirling blackness appearing at random. Finally, the last star fell, a wispy burst of thin light dropping straight down, as if bent on hurtling itself to its doom. The star disappeared beyond the bottom of the curtain, and then the curtain vanished, as quickly as it came, flickering out like a dying flame.
Dinah looked across the grass, happy to see that the Yurkei were still there, except now they were kneeling, their foreheads pressed against the dirt. Their horses went mad around them. The Spades were either lying or kneeling on the ground. Some covered their heads in fear, some pressed their hands together in prayer, and yet others boasted giddy smiles on their faces.
Sir Gorrann looked at Dinah with amazement. “I believe you’ve just made yourself a god.”
The funeral pyre sparked to life again, gentle crackling sounds filling the air. Smoke began to rise.
“Incredible,” breathed Wardley. Dinah closed her eyes at the sound of his voice, at once a balm and a poison.
Yur-Jee and Ki-ershan burst forward from where the curtain had been and practically smothered Dinah, checking her hair and body for wounds.
“I’m all right!” she snapped, gently patting Ki-ershan’s arm. She laughed when she saw his bow and arrow drawn. “Did you try to kill it?” Then she noticed a huge pile of arrows on the ground about twenty feet away, on the other side of where the curtain had been. He had indeed. The Yurkei guard’s commitment to her life never failed to move her.
The Spades began shouting to each other about what they had just seen.
“Oh gods, just shut it already, you filthy animals! Go to yer tents and stay there!” screamed Starey Belft, reasserting his role as a fearsome Spade commander.
After a moment’s pause, the Spades silently obeyed, all anger at the Yurkei defused. The two men who had charged the Yurkei camp left their axes in the dirt and turned away, their heads hanging in shame.
After his troops were in their tents, Starey Belft walked up beside his queen. “What in the bloody hell was that? You’re quite the brave one, aren’t yeh? Should we call you the Sky Queen?”
He reached his hand down to help Dinah to her feet. It was the first time that he’d truly spoken to her as if she was an equal. She hid her smile by turning away from him.
“Just queen will be fine.”
The Spade commander grinned.
With one hand, Dinah reached up for Morte, who lifted his hoof to accommodate her. She slung herself up on his high back, feeling his massive muscles settling themselves against her body. She looked down at her men.
Sir Gorrann’s eyes tracked her movement, riveted by his emboldened leader. “What do you think it meant?”
“It was a warning.”
“A warning about what?”
Dinah sat very still. “It was a warning to us, but also about us. War is inevitable.”
Sir Gorrann looked out at the Yurkei warriors, still on their knees. The Spades had no idea how close they had come to total obliteration. “They should be warned, just as long as we can keep from killing each other.”
Later that evening, as the rest of her army slept, Dinah sharpened her sword beside a fire. A shower of sparks flew down from the blade as she struck it with a rock. Over her shoulder, she felt the creeping presence of someone watching her.
“Hello, Cheshire.”
“Hello, daughter.” Cheshire turned to Ki-ershan, standing a few feet away from Dinah, so still that he could have been mistaken for a tree in the darkness. “I need a few moments with the queen.”
Dinah nodded to Ki-ershan, who took maybe twenty steps away from them, his glowing blue eyes still visible in the dark night.
Cheshire snickered. “I’ll say one thing for the Yurkei, they are quite persistent.” He sat down, fanning out his purple cloak so that she’d have a clean and dry spot on the log beside him.
Dinah looked down at the ground while he made himself comfortable. She still wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about this man: her father, and yet not at all her father.
“We almost lost the battle today.”
“I know.” She blinked and lowered her voice. “I know.”
“The Sky Curtain must mean that the gods want us to be successful!” he crowed. Then his voice sank back to its normal slithering tone. “Or it wants to save us for destruction at the hands of the king.” He shook his head. “This is why I don’t believe in the gods.”
Dinah looked up. “I don’t think it was either of those. I don’t know what it meant, I just know how it felt.” It felt like death and life. “Either way, it’s probably the last beautiful thing we will see for a long time.”
He nodded thoughtfully before lowering his face so that it was next to hers. His voice, for once, was gentle. “I watch you, Dinah. I’ve watched you all my life. I see the dark circles under your eyes. I see the tears you wipe away when you think no one is watching. I see that you are broken.” He rested his long fingers on either side of her face. “I know that he rejected you.”
Dinah turned away, trying to keep control of her quavering voice. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
Cheshire’s lips pulled back on his lean face, revealing those hungry white teeth that had so scared her as a child. His grin was wide—wide enough to swallow all of Wonderland. “Don’t lie to me, Dinah. After all this time, don’t you think I know my own daughter? I can read you like a book.” He tucked a piece of her short black hair behind her ear. “My favorite book. A book filled with so much possibility and fire.”
She looked away. She much preferred the scheming, genius Cheshire to the kind, fatherly Cheshire. It was obviously quite unnatural for him. Her patient smile faded as her fingertips brushed the tip of her sword. She stuck the tip of the blade into the fire and pulled it out. Its outer ridge glowed orange in the darkness.
“It turns out I have no part to play in Wardley’s book. His feelings for me haven’t changed. Not since we were children,” she whispered finally.
“What has changed in you is the only thing that matters,” he said firmly.
Dinah thought about that for a moment. “I’m so angry that he doesn’t love me. I’m angry at him, angry at everyone,” she whispered. “From when I wake up to the time I close my eyes, it’s like a poison underneath my skin. When I see him, I see—” She stopped.
Cheshire leaned over her. “What? What do you see?”
Dinah raised her eyes to his face. “I see rivers of blood,” she whispered. Cheshire’s face didn’t change to the disgusted look that she had been expecting. Instead, a small smile spread across his face.
“Good,” he hissed back.
“Good?” Dinah shook her head. “No, that’s insanity. Maybe I’m just as crazy as my brother.”
“You are nothing like your brother,” snapped Cheshire. “He was mad and you are brilliant.”
“But the fury …”
Cheshire pressed a long fingernail against her heart. “Take that anger, and use it. Use it for battle, use it to rule. Look how you subdued the captain of the Spades today! This anger is a gift, meant to keep you hard. Instead of suppressing it, embrace it. Let it fill your body, your mind, and your heart. It will be your best friend when none are there. Anger is righteousness, it is power, it has made kingdoms and heroes. Without anger, there is no passion, no life.”
Dinah sputtered, “But I can’t always control it.”
Cheshire raised both of his eyebrows, his midnight eyes glittering dangerously in the firelight. “Then don’t.”
“Once I’m queen …”
“Once you are queen, you can deal with Wardley however you see fit. You can marry him, you can kill him, you can make him your boudoir slave.”
Dinah made a disgusted sound, but Cheshire continued. “First, you have ten thousand Cards to get through, and a king who wants to see your head mounted outside the gates. Do you not think your anger will serve you well in battle?”
Dinah saw her sword cutting through Card after Card, heart after heart. The excitement of it made the hairs on her arms stand up. If Mundoo knew about her bloodlust … She suddenly didn’t feel like talking anymore.
“Thank you, Cheshire. I think I’ll try to get some sleep now.”
Her father stood to leave before looking down at her, his figure impassive in the waning flames. “Dinah, your heart is broken, and it will hurt and fester for years as you yearn for what you cannot have. I know the pain well. Still, you are charged with ruling a nation and uniting a people. These burdens are too heavy for anyone to carry without a fire burning inside of them. Don’t try to suppress your beautiful, unruly, angered heart. Let it empower you.”
He started to leave but hesitated and added one more thought. He raised his arms, as if scooping up the sky.
“Let it define you.”
By the next evening, Dinah’s army had reached the outer villages of Wonderland proper. She circled Morte around the settling troops as they nervously unpacked their camp. Dinah’s heart hammered quietly in her chest as she looked around. For quite some time, they had seen only the natural, magical places of Wonderland and Hu-Yuhar. Now that she could just make out the buildings on the horizon, Dinah knew there was no turning back. It had been a long time since she had seen buildings of wood, glass, and stone. They had arrived—Wonderland proper began just over the nearest crag.
The small villages of Wonderland proper held townsfolk and craftsmen, but mostly farmers. If she squinted, she could see fields of crops and dewy pink flowers, dotting the horizon like a blossoming petal stretched thin on the ground. They were lovely in their overgrown tangle.
Her army proceeded to unpack its gear around her, and Dinah began assisting her men where they would let her. What should have taken hours took minutes, and soon all the Spades and Yurkei settled quietly into their tents on opposite sides of the field. The sighs of weary men could be heard as the daylight began to wane. She ordered that the packs of food be opened, and that each man get twice his normal amount. The men would eat well tonight. This, at least, she could give them.
Dinah rode Morte up the neighboring hills, climbing to where she could see the dilapidated blades of a windmill creaking in the breeze. She took a deep, terrified breath. They were on the cusp of battle. Up ahead was Callicarpa, a small town at the bottom of a low valley, with its famous old windmill marking its farthest northern border. From the town center, plains climbed steadily upward until they encountered a sudden and violent slope down into the meadow that surrounded Wonderland Palace. She stared at the town. It was eerily still. She turned around on Morte to speak to her guards.
“I’m going down to look at Callicarpa. Something seems strange about it.”
“No!” snapped Yur-Jee, using his new favorite word. He was still warming up to Dinah. “This not task for queen.” He cleared his throat and commanded something in Yurkei.
Before long, Bah-kan rode up beside them, his damp chest hair glistening in the sunlight, his large blade clutched closely against his leg. It’s like seeing a bear ride a horse, Dinah thought. Even though astride Morte she was several feet taller than he was, Bah-kan leveled his gaze at Dinah. She felt small in comparison.
“Take twelve of your finest warriors ahead to the town. Do not harm or touch anything or anybody. We simply want to see if it will be safe to cross through. Return in less than an hour’s time. This is a scouting mission, not an attack.”
Bah-kan smiled at Dinah before he galloped down the hill to handpick his men. The Yurkei quickly mounted and soon were stampeding toward Dinah, happy to be doing something. She watched silently as the Yurkei whirled past her on their pale steeds, her short hair fluttering in their breezy wake.
“They are so … swift,” she noted with a smile. She turned to Sir Gorrann, who had ridden up beside her. “How can we train the Spades to move that quickly?”
Sir Gorrann gave a deep laugh. “Oh, my queen. Yeh make me chuckle. There is nothing yeh could do to train those men to move like the Yurkei.”
Morte gave an impatient snort and began driving his hooves deep into the ground. He shifted so violently that Dinah was almost pitched from the saddle. It was a long way down, something she knew well.
“What’s wrong with yer beast?” asked Sir Gorrann.
“He wants to go.” She climbed off him, wincing at the pain in her shoulder as she gripped the reins above.
“Does that still hurt yeh?” The Spade tilted his head, concerned.
“Not much,” she answered, rubbing the sore spot where the chief of the Yurkei had stabbed her with a shallow blade. “It’s my daily reminder of Mundoo’s long memory.”
Sir Gorrann leaned over and rested his hand lightly on her cheek. “And how is yer heart these days? Healing?”
Dinah looked up at him with suddenly blurry black eyes. “That is not your business, sir.”
She slapped Morte on his hindquarters and he happily galloped off in the same direction as the Yurkei horses.
“How do you know he’ll come back?”
“I don’t.” Dinah gave a small smile as she began picking wild herbs. She could add them to the scouting party’s stew late tonight, one more way to show the men that while she ruled over them, she served them as well. “Morte is not my steed. He is a soldier, under my command, and I am likewise under his command. We are equals.”
“And do yeh trust him in battle, Your Majesty? Have you ever seen a Hornhoov in battle?” Sir Gorrann looked down skeptically from Cyndy’s back.
“I have not. Well”—she paused—“I did see him kill a white bear.”
He dismounted and began helping her set up her tent. Dinah liked being just outside the camp, away from the group. It gave her room to breathe. Slowly, he unfurled the linen flaps that made up the entrance. “Yer father—er, sorry, I mean the king—raided some of the outlying Yurkei territories when yeh were just a babe. During those skirmishes, I saw two Hornhooves in battle. One was Morte. The other one was white and massive, even bigger than he is.”
“And?”
“They were utterly without mercy. They crushed men like insects under their hooves. Those beasts ran straight into the fold, killing without remorse, even their own men. They would stomp a man to death while impaling another on their bone spikes. I saw a Yurkei spear the white Hornhoov right through the flank, and the beast didn’t even flinch. It had arrows sticking out of its face. It just kept killing and killing, until someone attempted to sever its head from its body. The Hornhoov killed that man as well, just before its massive head fell from its body.”
Dinah could feel the blood draining from her face. “Morte wouldn’t …”
“He would. I beg of yeh, do not forget his true nature. When yeh bring him into a battle, yer releasing carnage itself. He could kill yeh, and think of how embarrassing it would be to lose yer life to yer own horse just when yer winning the war. Think about that!” He groaned. “Then Cheshire will hurry to set himself as king. Aye, and no one wants that.”
Cheshire as king? Dinah had never considered it. Either she would be queen, or she would die, and so would all those loyal to her. The thought that anything else could happen was unnerving.
“What I’m saying, Yer Majesty, is be careful with him. I do not think Morte would ever intentionally hurt yeh, but once he is in the thick of battle, he might not know what he’s doing.”
“I hear what you are saying, Sir Gorrann. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.”
Together, they pitted the poles into the ground and pulled Dinah’s tent up. She watched in awe as her black Spade banners curled out on the wind, snapping in the sharp breeze. A talented painter among the Spades had amended the banners to include a red heart, broken down the middle and shifted off center. It was her sigil, same as the one painted on her breastplate. A truer symbol had never been assigned, because her heart was not whole.
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.