Read Spades: The True Wonderland Awaits. (Of Wonderland Chronicles Book 1) Online
Authors: A.G. Stone
Chapter 17:
Living is Explaining
"Bryony," Blayke said as I walked into his room, all decked out in my T-shirt and skinny jeans.
"Blayke," I said as way of greeting him, my tone cold and biting. "How long it's been."
"I'm very sorry," Blayke blurted out, standing quickly, and I smirked at him.
"Oh, it's fine, it's fine," I told him, giving him a sour look. "I just thought that you should know why it is that that hurt so much. Go ahead, sit down. It's a long story. A very long story that starts before I was born."
Blayke took a seat on the bed, giving me the go-ahead to begin my story.
"It all began when my parents first met each other. My mother has had delusions and visions and fantasies since she hit puberty. No one knew until I was born, but that part of the story comes in later. Anyway, so my parents met in high-school and got to know each other. They fell in love, and the minute they were out of high-school, they got married. A few months later I was born. My parents were very much in love, even though they had met a few years ago.
"When I was five years old, my mother tried to kill me. She came after me with a knife, screaming 'Off with your head!' and swinging at me wildly. She gave me this scar." I showed Blayke the scar that ran up and down the inside of my forearm, puckered and pink skin that was healed yet scarred. I hid the others scars, the ones from my enemy at school. "Before she could do any more damage to me, my father called the police, who arrested my mother for assault and attempted murder. When being in jail did nothing for her, she was sent to the mental institution, Safe Haven Asylum.
"After my father basically sent my mother to the mental institution, he became an alcoholic and druggie. He drank alcohol every night, and once he was drunk, he would stumble out the door into a prostitute house and sleep with one of the girls there for a large amount of money. All the money that he had earned as a lawyer just went towards his supplies of drugs and alcohol. Whenever he acknowledged my existence, it was because he wanted something - whether it be money from my job at the Costume Emporium that paid rather well despite the fact that it was a small store and all I did was mend the costumes, breakfast, lunch, dinner, a snack, or a drink. All he did was use me for what I had.
"And if that isn't bad enough, my 'friends' did the same thing. No one cared about me at my school. All of the people I called my friends didn't want to be my friends; their parents had forced them into it because of my situation at home. So to get back at me, the kids at my school bullied me relentlessly. The adults pitied me, but did nothing to help me. When I thought I had made a real friend who cared about me, he ended up raping me, taking away my virginity. And that happened in sixth grade. After he got what he wanted, he slapped me and called me a slut."
At this, Blayke trembled in anger, his wings buzzing.
I gave him a look. "Be quiet if you want to know the rest."
Blayke bowed his head and relaxed his wings, quieting the buzzing noise.
"Anyway, so after that day, I was bullied even more. I wondered why, but it turned out it was because of the boy who had raped me. His name was Mark Collins. He spread around the rumor that I was a slut, that I had basically forced myself on him until he agreed to have sex with me. I tried to explain that he had raped me, but everyone blamed me for turning him into the bad guy. They said that he would never do that, that I was just a slut and a whore who tried to pin the blame on someone other than herself. So I was bullied even more. The kids at my school wouldn't let me get away. The jocks - basically all the boys - would walk up to me on a regular basis and would ask if I would give them a blow-job, if I would let them have sex with me since I was such a 'cheap whore'." My eyes began to water, and I took a deep breath to keep from sobbing.
"There's more?" Blayke asked me gently, offering me a hand.
I nodded, taking his hand hesitantly.
"Well, I don't want you to talk about it. I want you to lay down on the bed while I move your stuff back into here -" I cut him off by shaking my head wildly as I laid down on the bed.
"Don't leave me," I begged, and he smiled sadly at me.
"I promise I won't, okay? How about I sit in the chair by the bed and send the Faeries to get your stuff and bring it in here?" Blayke suggested softly.
I shook my head. "Lay on the bed with me, please. I'm scared. I'm going to have nightmares."
Blayke climbed into the bed with me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest. "If you start to have a nightmare, I'll wake you up. I promise."
I nodded, tucking my head into the crevice of his shoulder and went to sleep.
Chapter 18:
The Lemonade
My music was playing, echoing through the room, and I danced by myself in the ballroom, amidst silver sculptures and a white and black chess floor. There were silver sculptures of swans in midflight, black sand sculptures of the Dark Mountains of Wonderland - which I somehow knew about; it was as though I had been taught all about Wonderland by someone who really cared about me and wanted me to know about their home. It was very mysterious. Suddenly, Blayke flew into the room, his feet barely off of the ground.
"Do you want some lemonade?" Blayke asked me, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
My gut instinct told me to go along with it, but make him taste the lemonade first. So I replied, "Sure, but only if you try it first," smirking at him.
"Fine," he said confidently, and we stood there smirking at each other for a little bit.
We were challenging each other, and Meadow flew into the room, silver dust drifting off of her. I blinked at the sight of her covered with what looked like silver sand but did nothing and asked nothing. Meadow smiled at me like normal, as if she wasn't absolutely covered from head-to-toe in silver dust. "Hello, Milady," she said, curtsying in mid-air while the silver dust continued to drift off from her, mostly from her wings.
"Hi, Meadow," I said, waving at her as I blinked.
"Is there something wrong, Milady?" Meadow asked me, and I blinked.
"You're covered in silver dust," I pointed out, gesturing to her slender body that was coated in that dust.
"Foolish Meadow!" Blayke snapped, and I glared at him.
"Be nice to Meadow," I said, and he gave me a look.
"She's being ridiculous," Blayke protested, and I arched an eyebrow at him.
"And you aren't by getting mad at her?" I asked, and he gave me a look.
"Yes, I am mad," Blayke said, giving me his best crooked smirk. "But not in the context that you're talking about. You should say that I am upset with her, as it is actually the truth. I am not 'mad' at her; I am upset with her."
I rolled my eyes. "Grammar police," I mumbled, and he chuckled, wrapping his arm around my waist.
"You know it, Strawberry," Blayke whispered in my ear before fixing his gaze on Meadow. "Meadow, is the lemonade ready?"
Meadow looked down. "Yes, Master. The lemonade is ready and waiting in the dining room."
"Thank you, Meadow," Blayke said, nodding his head at her, and he gently guided me into the dining room.
He sat me down in the seat at the head of the table like usual and sat down next to my right. He grabbed the pitcher of lemonade sitting in front of him and poured me a glass, conjuring a glass up out of nowhere just to show off. The glass was made of fine crystal and the stem was studded with diamonds. He set the glass in front of me and I took the stem in between my thumb and forefinger. I lifted it and toasted him.
I then lifted it to my lips and pretended to take a drink, smelling the salt tainting the lemonade from a million miles away. There was no way I was going to put that in my mouth, even just to get back at Blayke.
Blayke took a sip and winced, glaring at the cup; from what I could gather from his mumbled curses and such, the Faeries were supposed to put sugar in the bottom of his cup to counteract the salt, but they didn't. They probably wanted to see his face as much as I did.
That was then that I realized what the Faeries had given me that bottle of clear liquid for earlier. I slipped it down my sleeve and uncorked the bottle carefully with my thumb and forefinger. Being very careful not to give myself away, I poured the liquid into the glass of lemonade and slid the bottle back up my sleeve into the tiny pocket the Faeries had created for it specifically. I then swished the glass around to mix the liquid into the lemonade before taking a large sip. It tasted like delicious lemonade - the perfect mix between sour and sweet, the lemon creating a tangy flavor that I recognized from my world (at least some things were the same) -, and I smiled at Blayke as he gaped at me.
"H-how?" he stammered, and I tilted my head to the side innocently.
"What? By the way, tell the Faeries who cook that this lemonade is amazing. I think it's their best work ever," I said, and Blayke's eyes widened even more.
He took a huge gulp of his as I finished off my own lemonade. He ended up spitting the lemonade back out on to the table, coughing madly.
"How did you do that?" he wheezed, and I smirked, flicking my wrist. The little bottle shot into my hand and I set it down on the table with a clatter.
Blayke sighed and fell back against his chair. "Damn Faeries," he muttered, and I laughed.
Chapter 19:
Sides
"Good morning," Blayke said as I walked past him into the dining room, dressed in the crimson and blue nightgown with white lace trim that Blayke had given to me the night before.
"'Good'?" I repeated incredulously. "How can a morning be 'good'?"
"Well, the sun is shining, the flowers are singing, and the card soldiers and Rabid Knight are nowhere near here in their search for you," Blayke explained, throwing his arms out widely. "You see, it is a wonderful day!"
I deadpanned. "You're quite the little optimist aren't you?"
"Well, why aren't you?" Blayke shot back, and I laughed dryly at that.
"Not a morning person," I said, jabbing a finger at my chest. "I hate mornings. Mornings are never good, not ever, ever."
"Well, have some breakfast and wake up with some coffee, then I'll take you out to the Wild Moors," Blayke offered, trying his best to cater to my whims.
"Whatever," I said tiredly, sitting down at my seat next to the head of the table.
Blayke plopped down in the seat at the head of the small table, smiling at me. "Haven't you heard? Faeries make the best coffee in the whole of Wonderland. Nothing can top their coffee."
"'Their'?" I repeated, arching an eyebrow at him. "I thought that you're a Faerie, too."
Blayke looked guilty, and my eyes narrowed. "Yes, yes, of course," he stammered, and my eyebrow nearly reached my hairline. "I am a Faerie, but I'm too large of a Faerie to make excellent coffee."
"I thought Faeries could change their size," I said, giving Blayke a look.
"W-we can," he stuttered, now on the edge of his seat. "I just prefer this form."
"You're not making sense," I sang, and Blayke bit his lip.
"Meadow!" he shouted, trying to distract me.
"You're not really a Faerie, are you?" I asked, teasing him.
Yelping, he tumbled off his seat and on to the marble chessboard floor. He put his hand over his heart and looked up at me, his expression terribly nervous and terribly guilty. "W-w-what do you mean?" he asked me, trying to play the innocent act. "Of course I'm a Faerie. I've got the wings and everything, see?" He gestured to his wings, which were fluttering nervously.
"I can see your wings," I said, nodding, and Blayke sighed in relief. "But -" He froze "- I've heard that the Drow can change their appearances to suit their needs."
"Who told you that?" he asked, his expression darkening.
"Meadow," I said, smiling sweetly and tilting my head.
"MEADOW!!!!" Blayke screamed, and the little, delicate Faerie flew into the room at top speeds that her little faerie wings could carry her at.
Somehow she managed to stop right in front of Blayke, who was facing away from me so that his facial expressions didn't give him away to me.
"Yes, Master?" Meadow asked in her sweet, small bell-like voice.
"Did you tell Bryony about the Drow?" Blayke demanded, his voice like thunder.
"Y-yes, Master," Meadow stammered, shrinking in front of the anger of Blayke.
"Did I not tell you specifically not to tell her about the royalty?" he demanded, and Meadow began to tremble.
"Y-yes, Master."
"So what gave you the impression that you were free to tell her about the Drow and their connection to the royalty!?" Blayke thundered, and Meadow began to cry.
"I-I-I d-don't know, M-Master," she stuttered, her lower lip trembling as she continued to cry.
Blayke lifted his hand to strike Meadow, and I didn't even have to think. I dove in between them, taking the strike meant for Meadow.
I fell to the ground, my cheek stinging terribly. But I bit my lip and kept silent. His strike made my ears ring and my head ache and my cheek sting, but the worst pain was the pain in my heart, the pain of betrayal. Even though I had dove in between them, Blayke should have been able to stop his strike in time to keep me from being hurt. I glared daggers at Blayke.
Meadow flew to my side. "Milady, are you all right?" she asked, her little wings fluttering to keep her in the air while she hovered at my side.
"I'm fine," I said, sitting up and wiping blood from the corner of my mouth.
Blayke dropped to his knees at my side, his wings fluttering with an emotion I identified as concern. "Are you hurt?" he asked, examining every inch of my skin.
"Just my trust," I said, glaring at him, and he winced.
"I'm very sorry I hit you," Blayke told me, and I could hear the truth ringing through in every word he spoke. But that didn't mean I was going to let him off the hook.
"I don't know if I'll forgive you," I said bitterly. "Not just for hitting me, but for trying to hit Meadow. She doesn't deserve to be hit."
"She told you something you weren't supposed to know," Blayke said gently, as if that made everything he did okay.
"And who are you to decide what I should and shouldn't know?" I asked, growing even angrier.
Blayke's expression grew sad. "I'm just trying to help you, Bryony."
“By keeping things secret that I deserve to know," I finished scathingly.
"You'll learn them later," he shot back.
"When it's too late," I replied, sneering at him. "If I'm going to be stuck in Wonderland after saving everyone, I deserve to know about the people of Wonderland. Before Meadow told me about the Drow, all I knew were the Faeries and the demonlings."
"I'll tell you what you need to know," Blayke said, still pleading with me to understand what he was trying to do.
"Yeah, but when?" I countered. "When it's convenient for you to tell me? Right when I'm about to die? Oh, yeah, you're going to tell me about all of the species in Wonderland right when I'm about to be beheaded by the Queen of Spades' executioner. Yeah, that's really going to help me."
Blayke winced at the sarcasm dripping from my every word. "I'll tell you when it's time," he said.
"'When it's time'!?" I repeated, almost hysterical. "Oh, yeah! When it's time for me to die!"
"Bryony, please, calm down," Blayke pleaded, and I sneered at him.
"I'll calm down when you tell me the whole story of why I'm here," I said, and he paused, probably to think about it.
At last, he sighed. "I can't do that. Seth would kill me," he said, and my anger rose up at thirty times the strength.
With all of the force I could muster in my body, I slapped him. Hard, across the cheek, so that he would feel the full brunt of my anger. He fell down at the force of my slap, at my feet as I stood up. I grabbed his collar and lifted him to my level. "So your life is more important than mine," I hissed in his face. "Have fun bearing the weight of my spent life on your shoulders."
With that, I dropped him and stalked out of the room.