Ensnared (41 page)

Chessie’s eyes whirl, telling me and Morpheus how much he’s missed his home and wants to revisit his favorite haunts.

“First, find Alyssa’s mum and Ivory,” Morpheus insists. “Let them know we’re here. If the mirror passages are working, have them open one for us.”

Chessie agrees, then weaves through some closely knit trees, gone before I can blink.

Morpheus lifts his hands, testing his power. Blue electric filaments reach to every branch in the canopy overhead, shaking white billows loose. He stands there—wings arced high—proud and regal as a fluffy downpour showers over him. A hearty laugh rumbles deep in his chest. He’s carefree and playful, even more than when he was in his room in AnyElsewhere. He’s been without magic for so long, he’s drunk on it.

The snow flurries over me, too, cold and refreshing. It reminds me of Texas and the seasonal snowfalls Jeb, Jenara, and I played in as kids. Snowmen, snow ice cream, snow forts. I can’t help but laugh with him, in spite of how weak I feel.

“Dance with me, blossom,” he coaxes, and when I hesitate, he reels me in with his magic. I snuggle into his chest and let myself savor his vitality, wishing I could absorb it.

He wraps an arm around my waist and clasps my hand with his. Lips pressed to my dreadlocked head, he hums the lullaby’s tune while his inner voice fills my head on a frequency only I can hear:
“ You dazzled me today. So uninhibited. So filled with malice.”

I smile secretly and follow his graceful steps. His wings cascade around us like swirls of ethereal ink.

“
In fact
,” his mind-speak continues, “
now that I have my magic back
”—he spins me out, then pulls me against him again—“
I expect you to give me another crack at our game
.”

“Game?” I ask.

“I am not averse to roughing it up,” he answers, no longer humming. He takes my hand, nips at the knuckles with taunting teeth, then guides my fingers to the red marks on his neck. “Wrathful queen and wayward footman . . . that will be standard fare for our love-play. Sans Red’s vines, and we’ll both be scantily clad.”

I snort. “You’re delirious.”

“I prefer the term ‘mad.’”

I smile up at him, thrilled to see him teasing and content. I press my ear to his chest so I can hear his strong heartbeat. I try to make my dual heart merge to one beat and follow its perfect rhythm. I fail.

“Alyssa, I am whole again,” he murmurs as our dance slows to a gentle rocking motion.

“I know.”

“Jebediah is whole, too.”

I don’t answer, because somehow Jeb still harbors Red’s magic and I’m not sure what to make of it.

“So, you must convince him to release you of your vow,” Morpheus adds, resolute.

I start to pull back, but he hugs me tighter.

“You love me. You admitted it.”

“I do love you.”

His body trembles in response, as if he can’t contain his emotions at my confession. “We both know you made the vow to get
your mortal knight out of AnyElsewhere. To give him faith in his humanness and you. Your stratagem saved his life.”

I grind my teeth. “That’s
not
the only reason I made it.” It’s important that he accepts my love for Jeb. I’ll have to tell Jeb the same thing about Morpheus before I’m gone. I will not leave them with lies hanging between us. “I love you
both
.”

Morpheus tenses and waltzes me around the small space again, retracing our dance steps through the snow until our footprints erase themselves. We twirl from one end to the other, as if he thinks he can distract me from my own truth.

At last, we come to a panting stop, face-to-face. All of his earlier playfulness snuffs out like a candle as our breaths form clouds of condensation between us. “I’m done waiting. It is now or never. And dare not forget, our union will ensure what happened to your father never happens to another human. No one else will be trapped by Sister Two, because we will gift Wonderland with our dream-child.”

His words punch me with a realization that hasn’t yet crossed my mind. Since I’m dying, our son will never be born. Wonderland will have to continue to steal children for their dreams forever. Unless we can find an alternative.

There’s a harsh snap behind my sternum and a bitter, metallic flavor coats my throat.

I press my face into his chest, stifling a sob. “I thought we were dancing.”

In response, he spins me. I break free and come to a stop in front of a tree trunk. Its expression is locked in an openmouthed morose frown, just like the tree we stepped out of. I stand back and survey all the tulgeys within sight. Every single one has the same expression, as if it was miserable the moment the ice swept over it.

The heart of Wonderland is suffering. The doldrums are closing in. Come soon. We’ll hold them off as long as we can.

“Doldrums,” I murmur.

“What did you say?” Morpheus asks, coming up behind me.

“
Doldrums.
That’s the word Mom used when she said to hurry. She told me the doldrums were closing in.”

I look over my shoulder for his reaction. His jaw is clenched, his beautiful face crestfallen. He appraises the trees and the looking-glass rejects. “I thought Red merely cast a spell. But it was a plague . . . an extermination.
Toxic gloom.
”

“I don’t understand.”

“Doldrums are microscopic creatures. Their destruction is so devastating and complete, they’ve been in containment for centuries. Each of the castles has a supply of them under lock and key, as a means to keep the peace. To keep both kingdoms in check.”

I nod. “Mutual Assured Destruction . . . both sides know that any attack on the other will be devastating to themselves. We have the same thing for nuclear weapons in our world.”

Morpheus rubs his temple. “Red must’ve smuggled them out before she was exiled from the throne. When she launched her revenge against you and me, she didn’t simply plan to destroy the beauty here . . . she was going to eradicate everything.”

“But why? I thought she wanted her kingdom back?”

“It must have been her alternate plan, in case something went awry with the Alice one. This way, she could level all of Wonderland, then rebuild to her specifications.”

“Of course. That fits. She wanted to rule over everything.” I’m about to tell him how she intended to use our child as a bargaining chip to defeat Ivory and rule both kingdoms, but he interrupts.

“She must’ve released the plague after you left for the human realm,” he says. “After she found a new body to inhabit. That’s when it all started falling apart.”

“And that’s when you tried to get me to come back.” I move to the nearest tree and slide my scarred palm over the glacial bark. I sense Morpheus’s closeness, but don’t turn around. I’m too ashamed. “I should’ve listened.”

“You had a bit of a learning curve.” There’s restraint in his voice. He’s angry. “What matters is what you do with what you learned.”

“But can Red’s magic fix this?”

He sighs, placing his hand alongside mine on the tree so his body and wings hedge me in. “It comes down to more than fixing at this point. It is a renewal. Creating the world anew is the only way to stop the infection, and only the power of those who’ve once experienced crown-magic have that ability. It takes lineage from both kingdoms working together. Ivory couldn’t do it alone. That’s why she froze everything, to keep the inhabitants from getting infected until you came and could help. Together, you’ll re-create the landscapes and then, once they’re pure, Ivory can safely release all the netherlings from her suspension spell. It might take every ounce of power Red has left, paired with yours and Ivory’s, to address a pandemic so widespread.”

My eyes tear up, because my magic is only as strong as I am, and Red’s is waning.

Morpheus strokes my hair where it hangs between my shoulder blades. “There is a silver lining, luv. You won’t have to cast her out. You’ll simply use her up. And then she shall be defeated at last. Gone forever.”

He doesn’t realize I’ve already used most of her up. In trying to
keep myself alive, I’ve damned Wonderland to die. I never considered how closely entwined our fates might be.

I crumple, my palm skating along the tree’s frozen face as I plop to the ground.

“Alyssa?” Morpheus crouches beside me in an instant. He catches my chin and forces me to look at him. “Are you feeling anemic again?”

I struggle to breathe. It grates inside my chest, like inhaling angry bees. Blood creeps into my throat and gags me.

Morpheus’s jeweled markings flash through an anxious kaleidoscope of colors. He whips off his jacket, wraps me in it, and rolls up his shirt cuff. “Take off your boot so I can heal you.”

I clench my teeth against moving. The only way to manage the agonizing pain, to keep my heart from ripping any further, is to stay frozen like everything around me.

Morpheus gives up waiting, peels away the boot, and pushes up my legging’s hem. He traces the tattoo that he loves to tease me about, then presses our birthmarks together. A spark rushes between us, expanding like a flame through my veins. The power heals his neck and my arms, yet never quite reaches my heart.

During the euphoric rush of warmth, Morpheus’s gaze locks on mine and I’m bared to the bone. He sees what’s wrong.

“Oh, little plum.” His voice is a croak of despair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I clamp my eyes shut. “I’m sorry.” The apology turns into a wheeze.

“No,” he snarls. “You did try to tell me. In the mountain. And in Hart’s playroom. I was too bloody preoccupied to listen.”

No more guilt.
He needs to be thinking of our home. “Find a way.” I gulp back another rush of blood and saliva. “Save Wonderland.”

Morpheus lifts me into his arms, cradling me gently. “That’s exactly what I intend to do.” Even though I can feel his warmth seeping through our clothes, I shiver.

Through half-lidded eyes, I watch blue lightning zap from his fingertips to the branches overhead. Using it like ropes, he tugs the canopy apart. His wings flap, stirring up snowy gusts. We launch out of the woodland and into the sky. Wonderland’s sleeping terrain passes beneath us at dizzying heights—white and glittering. Black fringe dots my peripheral vision.

My stomach kicks once, reminding me I’m alive. Then I close my eyes, and face the darkness waiting there.

The sound of chimes wakes me, tinkly and melodious. A flurry of sprites skitters along my body. My dreadlocks are gone and my hair fans my pillow in lustrous, white-blond waves. The sprites sweep makeup brushes and sparkling jeweled clips into place with as much precision and proficiency as an automatic car wash, leaving the scent of perfume and powder in their wake.

One sprite rushes by my nose and tickles the tip. She looks so much like Nikki, I do a double take. The itch she caused evolves to a sneeze, sending all the tiny fairies in a scatter like dandelion seeds.

They chitter in annoyance.

I rub my eyes, sit up, and take stock of my surroundings.

I’m sunken inside a large bed under downy quilts so white and fluffy they look like drifts of snow. The sprites gather up baskets from the white marble floor, four to a handle, and flitter through the half-opened door.

I blink. I’ve never been here, but I know this place from the sketches Morpheus once drew in the back of Mom’s
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
book. This is Ivory’s glass castle and I’m in an ornate chamber: glass walls frosted with ice to give me privacy from the other side, and crystal candleholders with no candles or wicks. Their silver flames float, like glowworms suspended in midair.

A crystallized chaise lounge sits in front of a fireplace where more silver flames crackle. Somehow, they give off heat and light without melting the ice on the walls. Mom and Dad sleep soundly atop the white cushion, her in his lap and their legs tangled together. His handsome profile is scruffy, his nose buried in her long, pinkish blond hair. The strands twitch, alive with magic. Her gauzy wings are folded behind her like a butterfly’s at rest.

They look so lovely together, the White knight and his fairy bride, in one another’s arms at last. In spite of all they went through to reach this place, their love never faltered. They deserve this more than anyone I know.

My heart swells with happiness and I prepare for the tearing pain that’s sure to follow. Instead, a small ripple echoes the emotion. It’s like a dragonfly butting against my sternum—delicate and exhilarated. I take a deep breath, stronger and more at peace than I’ve been since I began this journey, maybe in my whole life.

Something stirs in the back of my skull. Red is still there, curled up in mourning, but she’s losing power by the second. It’s just a matter
of time until she seeps out of me and withers away to nothing. I’m the only thing holding her inside, though I can let her go when I’m ready. Her spell on my heart has been mended.

How?

I look down at the vintage nightgown covering me. It’s stitched of sheer white fabric and lace—as transparent as the glass surrounding this room—with slits in the back for wings. A lacy silver corset bodysuit offers a modicum of modesty underneath.