The Hidden Library (16 page)

Jace leans forward, his nearly colorless eyes serious. “There is more you must hear. I was unable to locate your Grand Advisor’s body, but his head graces the Hearts’ Castle no longer. None do. We struck down and burned all pikes and crosses decorating the roads leading in.”

What makes my eyes sting even more is the assured knowledge that the Caterpillar would disapprove of the twining strands of both relief and grief urging me to cry.

“It is not safe now to travel, not with the Red forces looming, but I will ensure he has a proper burial at your castle at the earliest chance I can get. The people will not forget his sacrifice.”

“Thank you.” My voice wobbles as I fight to get myself under control. “I will be forever grateful to you and your brave soldiers for what you have done.”

“He meant much to me as well.”

We have veered dangerously toward paths too emotional and painful to tread across whilst communicating through screens. I right our conversation. “How is the war going?”

“It is a hardship that is affecting too many Wonderlanders.” Jace rubs at his dark hair, leaving it askew. “Homes are being destroyed at alarming rates. Kidnappings, murders, crops being burned . . .” He shakes his head. “All of this in addition to plagues and droughts in parts of the country. Vast numbers of refugees are fleeing toward the fragile safety of our combined borders. Our soldiers are burning candles at both ends, and yet I must ask more of them every single day.” And then, more quietly, “I have often wondered just how much truly worse things would have been had you not left. It is a terrible time for Wonderland, my lady.”

The turmoil my people must be going through is acid in my veins.

“That said, I have come to an agreement with the White Queen. We are to put our differences aside to ensure that the White and Diamond regions will be jointly protected by our three armies.”

I’m stunned. “She is willing to protect my people and their lands, to acknowledge my continued sovereignty?”

Somebody calls out, “Your Majesty, you are needed.”

The White King sighs quietly, his eyes falling briefly shut. When they open once more, I press
End Record
on the tablet below me.

“Promise me you did not give too much to ensure the White Queen’s cooperation on my behalf.”

He does not answer me, but he does not need to. I see the truth in his eyes, and it’s a brutal punch to my gut.

Wonderland, as beautiful as it is, continues to demand too much of the two of us.

Horns blare in the distance, their sounds so bitterly familiar to my ears. “When?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. “Perhaps soon, if the White Queen has her way. She feels it will be a thumb in the other Courts’ faces, and will turn the tides in our favors. It is a good plan when you give time to consider it. While our alliance has been tentative over the last number of years, it is still the only one the people can hold onto during this time of unrest. A strengthened White Court can only benefit the land in general. This way, half of the Courts will be unified. Any further cemented alliances between us will be discussed upon a later date.”

I am loath to agree, but he is right. It is sound logic. The people of Wonderland would rally behind a strongly unified pair of Courts, especially as the others are splintered or struck completely asunder. Mine is, as it was the day I left, under his oversight, and if his cooperation with his counterpart assures their safety, I cannot allow my personal feelings to otherwise derail such matters. “Please inform the White Queen she has my gratitude.”

Bleak resignation shines from his pale eyes when he tells me he will.

Wonderland asks much of its monarchs. Sometimes too much, and yet . . . we still give until we have nothing left, and even then, we give some more.

“I must go now. I’m to check in with you every month, correct?”

Helplessness claws at my insides. There is so much I wish to say, and yet know I cannot. “Yes.”

“Then I will talk to you in two fortnight’s time.” He pauses, then says my name softly.

I wait.

But after a quick shake of the head, he crosses an arm over his chest, so that his hand touches his heart. I mimic the action, and the sentimentality burns strongly within the confines of my heart.

Nightrider Quigley, the King’s second-in-command, calls out once more before the screen goes black.

The urge to pluck strands of hair out is nearly overwhelming. I am different now, though. I have left behind the woman who gave into such madness. I sit for long minutes, fighting this urge, listening to the whirls and beeps of machines I can’t pinpoint. No matter how much we might have wished differently, Jace and I are on different roads now. Our shared journey abruptly ended. I am in love with another man, and not reluctantly so. And yet, it makes me want to wreak the most terrible of havocs with my vorpal blade when I consider how unfair it is that Jace has not been afforded the same opportunities as myself.

He deserves to fall in love again, to find somebody who will steady him in the crazy world he inhabits. Even though our shared dreams of a life together died, Jace deserves to still have everything we hoped for: companionship, family, happiness. Wonderland will not afford him such a luxury, though. His crown and duty come before his personal wants and needs.

Somehow, whether I wanted it or not, I escaped the same fate.

The door behind me opens and shuts. I’m too numb to even turn to look. But there’s no need, not when I already know who it is.

Finn sits down in a nearby chair and scoots it closer to where I rest. “How did the status check go?”

“I thought you were in a meeting?”

“According to his business partner, Holmes is delayed shortly. I have my suspicion he’s still asleep. While we wait, I thought I’d come in and check on you.”

His gesture is unbearably sweet in light of the latest news. My fingers tighten in the soft fabric of my dress as I tell him, my voice deceptively light, “The Cheshire-Cat was recovered. He has officially resumed his duties at the White King’s encampment.”

“That’s great.”

“The Caterpillar’s head was also liberated.”

I like this about Finn—he does not pressure, even though I know his curiosity must be white hot. And why wouldn’t it? While I am certain he is confident in the strength and certainty of my feelings toward him, he is only human.

I tell my partner, “Your modern technology is amazing. To think I can see and speak to people in Wonderland whilst sitting in New York City, nearly a hundred and forty years in the future, and to hear firsthand of how badly the war is going. War here, war there. There is too much warfare in all worlds.”

His touch is gentle. “I’m so sorry, Alice.”

Much of me wants to compartmentalize before turning inward. When we stand up, I nearly allow this to happen. After all, it’s easier, less messy to hold it all in and assume responsibility for such confusing, bitter feelings. But when we reach the door and he puts his hand on the knob, I finish the tale. “The White King will officially join into a political union with the White Queen that will solidify their Court’s influence and stability during the war.”

Finn’s hand falls away from the door as he turns to face me. He’s shocked but is trying to hide it best he can from me. “You mean like . . . marriage?”

I shake my head. “No. Or at least . . . not yet. But such a political union is not as common as you would think it to be. Remember, Kings and Queens of Wonderland may rule jointly over their lands, but it does not mean they are romantically or even socially attached. Many despise one another. Many strike at the other politically. Official unions guaranteeing cooperation can be powerful weapons in Wonderlandian governments.” I lick my lips. “It was honestly the only way to ensure her cooperation with defending the Diamonds’ lands, as well as moving forward as a cohesive unit. His soldiers, and mine, are spread too thin to assure the safety of the refugees pouring in from all over Wonderland and fight against the other Courts at the same time. Plus, the people will find relief in this, to know that there is at least one Court in the land that they can trust upon. In this regard, both monarchs in the White Court will champion the Diamonds lands and peoples. Refugees are pouring in at alarming rates.”

Finn doesn’t say anything, though. He merely pulls me into his arms and holds me tight. I listen to the steady thump of his heartbeat and think, once more, how unfair it is that I have Finn and Jace has no one. Love, as wonderful as it can be, is a brutal mistress.

I
T’S COLD IN ST. PETERSBURG, colder even than New York City. Light snow dusts the muddy ground while a train whistle pierces the air. Union soldiers mingle around the small station, many drowsy as they wait to board their next train.

The United States is in the middle of its bloodiest war. Death is in the air. Death, it seems, is everywhere I go lately. Wasn’t Alice so right when she talked about how there is too much warfare throughout all the Timelines.

When I brought up the current state of affairs to Alice, minutes before we edited into my original Timeline, she simply scoffed. “You came to Wonderland in the midst of its civil war, did you not? This is no different.”

It feels different, though. Missouri, while officially torn between both the South and the North, is a place of unrest. Both abolitionists and pro-slavery groups have moved into the area, pumping their propaganda to anyone who will listen. There is heat here, and cowardly people sitting on fences.

My skin crawls in anger.

Marianne Brandon requested to take on the role of costumer during her residence in the Society, which was fine by Brom and me. Truth be told, I worried about her being in the field. Alice jokes about Victor having a soft heart, but it’s Marianne who truly does. By serving her role in researching different Timeline clothing and eras alongside the Librarian, she’ll be able to effectively do her job for the Janeites and report back what’s going on.

“Besides,” she informed us, “I rather like to sew nowadays.” And then she clarified, patting one of the many sewing machines littering the Institute’s wardrobe rooms, “Even more so with these beauteous inventions. It’s rather soothing, isn’t it?”

Who was I to disagree?

She spent all night tailoring old Civil War-era pieces we’d confiscated during various assignments to Alice’s measurements, and then a coat and pair of pants to mine. Alice and I appear just as if we belong here in St. Petersburg, even though I want nothing more than to turn around and leave.

Before I left, Brom reminded me to take money I’d long ignored, money I’d found once upon a time and money that made me a target for a drunken father. Money I barely ever touched, viewing it more of a curse and a symbol of society’s attempts to conform me into something I wasn’t. And now, here I am, using it after swearing I never would, and the resentment in me only intensifies.

I can only pray I don’t land in jail today. Holy hell, I do not need that, not when there’s so much waiting for me back on my desk at the Institute.

Alice adjusts both her hat and coat before smoothing her hands down her hoop skirt. I won’t lie—she looks beautiful, but alien, too. I know we are from a similar time period, but to see her in such a tight corset and such a wide skirt is jarring.

I need a drink already. Hell, even a whole bottle.

“Will we go straight to Mrs. Douglas’ home?”

A nearby horse, desperate to escape its master, rears up. There is a child close to its angry hooves, one that can’t be more than two or three. I dart forward, snatching the boy as the owner tries to get his horse under control.

A woman runs forward, screaming the child’s name. As I pass him off to her eager arms, she nearly burns holes through me, she’s staring so hard.

Well, hell. I’m not here ten minutes and I’ve already run into Amy Lawrence. As kids, she and Sawyer were a thing off and on for years while he and Becky tortured each other. What are the odds that I’d have to save her kid of all people?

“Well, I’ll be.” Her eyes go wide. “Huckleberry Finn! It’s been years since we last saw you! Thank you for saving my boy.”

Alice slips her hand through the crook of my elbow as she catches up with me. I tip my hat reluctantly. “Hello, Amy.” To the boy, I say softly, “You need to be careful of horses, okay? They’re awfully big and sometimes forget to look down at those of us who are smaller.”

He nods solemnly, looking as if he knows he’s going to be in trouble as soon as he gets home. “You ain’t small, mister.”

I was though, once upon a time. I remember standing next to Jim on the banks of the Mississippi, and it felt like he towered over me.

Amy completely ignores her son, though. “Aren’t you right handsome nowadays, Huck? We girls in school used to whisper about how, once you allowed yourself to embrace civility, what a fellow you’d turn out to be. And here you are, looking well. Is this your wife?”

Before I can answer, or, hell, stop from gritting my teeth, Alice says in that regal voice of hers, “Yes.”

Thank God she’s wearing gloves so Amy can’t verify whether or not that’s a fact.