Splintered

My legs are weak, and my body is numb all over. Morpheus escorts me out of the sleeping bandersnatch’s pen, shutting and bolting the gate to hold the chained creature within. “After such a battle with magic, he should sleep until morning, I would think.”

The surviving guards and knights applaud.

Morpheus turns to them, one arm supporting my waist. “See to your wounded. Leave the dead for now. I shall ready Alyssa and the crown. Gather the courts and witnesses in the throne room. We will have the coronation shortly.”

The able-bodied drag away the injured and close the door, leaving us in the domed room with their dead. I can’t look at the bodies, sickened that they had to die for me.

Sensing my frayed emotions, Morpheus opens his arms. Without hesitation, I turn into his embrace and hug him in the moonlight. The vorpal sword’s handle presses against my ribs under his jacket, and I battle the temptation to slide it out and cut his throat. But I can’t. Not after what he did.

“You jumped in front of me,” I whisper. “You could’ve died.”

“You saved me back. So we’re even.” He says the last word in his most humble voice, just like when I used to beat him at games when we were little.

I clench his jacket and pull him hard against me, nose buried in his chest. I don’t know how to put into words what I’m feeling. Fury for what he’s done to Jeb and me all twisted and gnarled around the affection my child-self harbors for him. Except I’m no longer convinced it’s just the child in me who’s attached.

“I hate you,” I say, the sentiment muffled against his heart, hoping to make it true.

“And I love you,” he answers without hesitation, voice resolved and raw as he holds me tighter so I can’t break away and react. “A crossroads, my beautiful princess, that was unavoidable—given our situations.”

That cuts me, and I don’t even know why. I’m adrift in confusion and disbelief over everything: our kiss, his confession, my standoff with the bandersnatch; most of all, that Jeb and I are about to go home.

Stretching to hold me at arm’s length, Morpheus stares at my face, silent.

“So, now you crown me,” I venture, needing to break the intense magnetism between us. “And I’m done.”

He glances down at his shoes. “Yes. Then you’re done.” Without another word, he lights several torches along the wall, brightening the room. Then he retrieves his hat and settles it into place on his head.

His clothes are in a shambles, just like mine. I cast a glance at the sleeping bandersnatch locked inside the pen. Why did Morpheus have me wear my coronation dress to something that would leave it crumpled and ruined? A niggling of suspicion is reborn as he returns with the ruby crown in hand.

“If you like,” he says, “I could crown you here and now—privately. No more performances. This can all be over in a matter of minutes.”

His words shoot down my suspicions. He doesn’t sound very convincing, but I like the part about doing this without all of Wonderland watching. “Yes.”

His free palm opens to display my wish. “When you’re ready, squeeze it to burst in your hand while thinking of your heart’s dearest desire. But be sure to choose your words carefully. Say that you wish to be free of Queen Red’s influence forever. That is the only way to free your family.”

I nod.

For some reason, he won’t meet my gaze. “All I ask is that you wait for me to crown you before you make that wish.” His lashes cloak his eyes, and the jewels on his face blink three different shades of blue—as if he’s indecisive about something.

I slip off my gloves and take the bead, still warm from being in his pocket.

He surprises me by offering something else—the jade carving of the caterpillar from his room. “So you’ll never forget me, or your better side.”

I take it, swallowing against the doubt in my throat.

He lifts the ruby crown over my head.

I clamp my fingers around the gelled wish, waiting for my cue, rehearsing to make the words perfect in my mind.

“I crown you Queen Alyssa, rightful ruler of the Red Court.”

He’s no sooner placed the circlet on my head than the door flies open. Card guards and elfin knights fill the room, expressions stern and solemn. Two elves point their swords at Morpheus and force him to his knees. Gossamer hovers over one of the knight’s heads and Morpheus glares up at her.

“You spilled the magic beans, eh, traitorous pet?” he asks with venom.

An apology glimmers in her coppery eyes. “The guilt would’ve eaten you alive,” her bell-like voice chimes. “To take an i

Morpheus hisses at her. “Nobility? Was it not noble that I saved your life? Now you’re condemning me to death! I should’ve left you to be eaten by that fanged toad all those years ago.” The elves tighten their stance over him, and Gossamer hangs her head in shame.

The knights and guards around me part to make an opening for someone coming through the door.

“What’s going on—?” My last word clips short as a woman in ivory lace—flesh and gown glistening like ice crystals—steps forward. Her feathery white wings arch high and graceful, like a swan’s, complementing the lovely turn of her long neck beneath waist-length silvery hair. Her face is familiar for its beauty and loneliness, and she carries the pewter hatbox that once imprisoned her.

The Ivory Queen.

How did she get out? Did Queen Grenadine and King Red release her?

One glance at the roses on the box, and that hypothesis falls to shreds. The roses used to be white. Now they’re the color of …

Blood.

Ivory steps up, inches away from where Morpheus kneels.

“You seduced me,” she accuses him, her voice cracking. In spite of the angry frost shooting from her bluish white eyes, tears roll down her cheeks.

“Recovered your memories, I see,” Morpheus remarks, smug even in the face of the swords pointed at him.

“Along with my crown.” She touches the glistening diamond tiara on her head. “You used such pretty words.” She sobs. “All the nights we shared. You made me think you cared for me … used my affection to trick me into the box.” Her delicate fingers brush the wetness from her face. “Then you framed King Red and turned my court against him, all so you could close my portal and hold the young princess here until she completed your plan! Have you told her yet? The truth of it all? What you intended to take from her?”

I look down at Morpheus. The guilt on his face sickens me. “He told me I could leave after I was queen.” I throw the caterpillar carving at his feet. “What else is there?”

Morpheus stares at the chess piece next to his knee. “Nothing. To atone for all of the wrongs done to her, I was to see Red’s blood heir crowned as ruler of the Red Court.”

A queen in ruby-colored robes, with ribbons on her toes and fingers that match her flaming hair, pushes forward, her king and guards flanking her. It’s Queen Grenadine. “There is more … the sprite told us …” She holds a beribboned hand to her ear, listening to the whispers. “Yes … there was one other stipulation to his curse, you see. One that will lock you forever to this place.”

“He never intended for you to leave,” Ivory tells me.

I curl my fingers around the gelled tear. If that’s true, then why the charade with the wish?

“In your mad rush for freedom,” Ivory says, her attention once again on Morpheus, “you have cost a noble mortal man his life and betrayed both courts. Amends will be made for your heresy.”

The words mortal man ice my heart. I turn to the jabberlock box and the blood-painted roses. My chest cinches tight with a horrible intuition. “Where’s Jeb?”