Читать книгу Queen of Hearts Complete Collection: Queen of Hearts; Blood of Wonderland; War of the Cards - Colleen Oakes, Colleen Oakes - Страница 21

The stars were scattered that evening—sprinkled north over the Todren and also to the south, where they hung in vertical lines over the Darklands. Dinah stood alone on her balcony, wrapped in a thick sheepskin blanket.

“Your Highness, you’ll freeze out there!” nagged Emily from her chambers. Dinah rolled her eyes and silenced her servant with an upraised hand.

“Emily, I’m fine! I am warm enough; the winter is almost over.”

Emily made a face and silently retreated. Dinah turned her head back to the sky.

“Faina Baker, the Black Towers.” She murmured the words to herself, again and again. She couldn’t imagine what those words meant, only that she felt—no, she knew—that they were something of great meaning and consequence. She had been waiting for that tiny scroll all her life, without knowing it. The unspoken thread of unease that followed her every step in this palace—it had origins. It was present at the croquet game, at the feast, in the whispers of Cards and the court, especially since Vittiore had arrived. Was this tiny paper perhaps her answer, something to put her one step ahead?

Who was Faina Baker? What did she know? And most important, why was she in the Black Towers? Dinah bit at her lip, a nervous habit. Contrary to what she had told Emily, there was quite a bitter chill in the late-winter air; it ripped through her blankets as though they were as thin as linen. She gave a shiver. It was time. Dinah pulled a long burgundy scarf, embroidered with tiny pink flowers, out from beneath her blanket. She reached over the edge of the balcony and looped it around a tiny iron rung on the bottom of the railing. The scarf unfurled itself in the whipping wind, a red ribbon against the black sky.

She went inside, took her tea and bath in silence, and watched the steam gather in her dressing room. Harris and Emily retired for the night to their separate sleeping quarters, and Dinah paced back and forth in front of her windows. Patience had never been her virtue, and when she could wait no longer, she walked out to the balcony and stuck her head over the edge. She squinted until she saw it: Wardley’s scalloped silver shield, bearing a kneeling Corning, propped up against a water trough outside the armory.

Dinah’s skin gave a happy ripple—Wardley was coming! They had communicated in this manner since she was a little girl. Wardley was always outside by the stables, while Dinah was confined by lessons in the Royal Apartments, so they arranged the simplest form of the message: a shield or a scarf meant, “I need to see you.” The other would then put up a reply, and the message was complete. Dinah pulled a simple plum nightgown over her thin tunic and fastened her cloak over it. Pressing her ear to the door, she listened for the Heart Cards to make their way down to the end of the wing. Their metal footsteps grew fainter until they disappeared completely. Dinah knew it was a matter of minutes before they came back around. Stepping quietly, she slipped out the door and ran down the hall, the marble freezing cold on her bare feet. She made her way down the stone servant steps at the end of the wing, and from there began winding her way through different hallways toward the Heart Chapel.

When his reign first began, her father had ordered the construction of a tiny alcove that overlooked the Heart Chapel. While most found it bewildering that he would make any changes to this ancient room, one that beamed with light and whimsical architecture, the King of Hearts pressed on, though the construction included the destruction of a magnificent old lute that had been sealed into the outer wall. The alcove was nicknamed “the Box.” Its purpose was to enlighten and change the hearts of peasants by blessing them with the gift of worshipping inside the chapel, while still keeping them away from members of the court and the royal family. The king believed that granting peasants, undesirables, and orphans audience with royalty would someday inspire great things in a person of low standing.

Every Sunday, peasants were rounded up by the Cards and brought to the Box. They were forced to participate in the service at the Heart Chapel, and then given bread and soup, and sent on their way. After their departure, the Box would receive a thorough cleaning, so that it might be cleared for the next group of woodworkers, butchers, ladies of the night, or fishmongers. Dinah thought it the most terribly condescending idea—did the townspeople really desire to be yanked from their work to worship with those who were gifted with so much? Still, she was grateful that her father had unknowingly provided a private place for Wardley to meet her inside the castle.

As a princess, Dinah was never alone for very long, and she was rarely able to go anywhere in the palace anymore without dozens of people noticing. Just in the last few weeks, Heart Cards had begun accompanying her in places she usually occupied alone: the library, the kitchens, the atrium. Harris said it was because her coronation was drawing near and thus her father had ordered extra protection around her. To Dinah, it was a nuisance she had to learn to tolerate.

Her breath catching in her throat, Dinah pulled open the huge doors to the Heart Chapel. She was lucky tonight—normally there was a watch, but he must have been away on rounds. She slipped inside. There was something eerie about the vast, shadowy space, empty as a tomb and just as cold. Mosaic walls glittered in the darkness, and she could make out the forms of shrouded stone figures fighting, embracing, and ruling: the Wonderland gods. The chapel’s grandeur made her feel small and exposed. Her footsteps seemed to bounce across the floor like cannon blasts as the sounds ricocheted off the columns and walls. Dinah stopped to catch her breath and found herself staring up at the red heart-shaped window that graced the back of the chapel. Fine gold cranes were strung end to end before the heart so that it swallowed them whole, their wings only a spot on its mass.

Dinah stood alone in the darkness, feeling like the cranes—swallowed whole by this room, by the throne, by her father and the palace. She longed to rule—to take the seat next to her father, and she, the Queen of Hearts, would rule over Wonderland with strength and courage—but she feared what it would take to get there. When she married, her father would not easily give up his throne to her husband. Her black eyes narrowed as she stared up at the brilliant red window, which cast red light on her face. The altar seemed to pulse with crimson. When I am queen, she told herself, all my doubts will disappear, and my father will embrace me again. He will see that I was born to be a queen, and I will be a better queen than he was a king.

Dinah heard the soft padding of footsteps, and something changed in the air. A soft ripple moved the banners and tapestries that draped the wall, and Dinah was suddenly filled with the dreadful sense that someone was watching her. She turned, but there was only darkness around her—an empty, holy space, and only the eyes of the gods were upon her. She gave a sniff. The air smelled strange—a heady mix of earth and brawn. Behind her, a door clicked and she heard sauntering footsteps echoing through the chapel. Wardley. She sighed with relief and reluctantly turned her back to the altar and walked the long length of the aisle until she was parallel to the door. With only the moonlight that filtered in from the red heart window, her strong hands found the wooden ladder that led up to the Box. Dinah gave a soft groan and lifted herself up onto the bottom rung. Wardley poked his face out from the top of the ladder.

“Hurry up! You are slower than a moss-eating bug.”

Dinah shot him an angry look and continued to carefully climb, splinters driving into her bare feet. Once she reached the top, she was greeted with the hint of a foul stench: waste, oil, and rotting vegetables—the smell of poverty. Whoever was supposed to clean the Box after the last event didn’t. Standing, she brushed her fingers through her tangled hair and straightened her cloak. Wardley stood in front of her, dressed in his practice clothes—a loose, white-linen shirt, dark red pants, and black riding boots. His shirt was opened across the chest, and Dinah could see the gleam of his sweaty skin in the moonlight. Her heart knocked trickily in her chest, and she forced herself to look away.

Wardley gave her a quick hug. “Ugh, you smell awful.”

Dinah punched his arm. “It’s the Box. Stop it.”

“That felt like a swift breeze blowing over my skin,” he chided, smiling. Dinah felt the earth tremble. “Try again.”

He held out his arm. Dinah struck him with all her might. He winced. “All right, that did actually hurt. Keep working on your sword arm. Someday your father will train you to use the Heartsword.”

“Not likely, but it’s a nice sentiment.”

They sat together on a tattered wooden bench that reeked of fish.

“So, what did you need to tell me?” Wardley asked. “You should have just come to the stables in a few days. It’s a lot easier than sneaking around here. Have you noticed that there are Heart Cards everywhere now? It’s getting ridiculous, all the men that bear the uniform. Your father doesn’t care anymore if they are qualified or good men; he just wants bodies in cloaks.” Wardley made a disgusted sound. The constant lowering of requirements to become a Heart Card was something that he lamented often.

“At least they’re not Spades.”

He looked over at her and saw the seriousness in her eyes. His smile faded. “Dinah, what is it?”

Dinah brought her face close to Wardley’s ear. Just being this near to him made it hard to breathe, but they had much to talk about. To any observer, they would look like young lovers, whispering words of endearment. “Yesterday someone gave me a note. It was at the feast, and it was slipped into my berry loaf. It said ‘Eat Me.’”

Wardley pulled back from her, his face riddled with concern. He took her face in his hands and tilted it so he could look clearly at her. “You didn’t eat it, did you? Dinah, that could have been poison.”

Dinah shook her head. “No, no, of course not. I didn’t eat it. But I did break it open. And this was inside.” She reluctantly pulled back from him and removed the tiny vial from her cloak pocket. “There used to be a piece of paper inside of it. I read it, and then I ate that.”

Wardley’s eyes widened.

She continued. “On the note it said, ‘Faina Baker, the Black Towers.’ And then it had a triangle symbol.”

Wardley looked at the ceiling, considering. “Faina Baker, I’ve never heard that name before. Have you?”

Dinah shook her head. “Never. I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon, but no. I’ve never heard of her either.”

Wardley took the tiny vial out of her fingers and peered at it in the moonlight. “What do you think it means?”

Dinah wrung her hands together. “I truly don’t know, but I can’t shake the feeling that it’s something important.”

“You can’t know that, Dinah. This could be a trap. Someone plotting against the king, someone plotting against you. Your father has many enemies. It could be a Yurkei assassin.”

“I know that. I do.” She pulled herself closer to him, her skin pressing against his, her mouth against his ear. “I can’t explain it, but I need to find her. Faina. This note wasn’t sent in malice, I can feel that.”

Wardley took her hand in his, and a million stars shot over her skin. “Dinah, I know you want to believe this. I just don’t know if it is wise. Your coronation grows closer every day, and maybe this is just you being nervous to take the throne.”

Dinah lifted her black eyes and stared at his face. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course. You are my best friend,” he assured her, giving a nervous laugh, caught off guard by her intensity.

“Then help me do this. Wardley, something is amiss. I can feel it. There is a lurking, a presence, a danger, something bad is happening. And someone is trying to help us. I need to speak with Faina Baker, and I need your help to do it.”

Wardley shook his head. “Getting into the Black Towers will be impossible. You’re the princess; they track your every move. And even if they didn’t, you can’t just break into the Black Towers. They’re swarming with Clubs.” He lowered his voice. “And gods know what wickedness we will find in there. You’ve heard the stories. Some things can never be erased from one’s mind. The Black Towers are a place of violence. Torture. Sickness. The depravity of the kingdom is held there, and you’re willing to risk going in, just for a name. A name that might mean nothing; nothing more than a traitor waiting in the dark with a dagger behind his back. Do you truly believe this woman has all the answers? What answers are you seeking? And if she does, why is she in the Black Towers?”

He gave a sigh. “Dinah, listen to me. Criminals go to the Black Towers. Criminals and liars and murderers and people who your father needs to disappear. It is not a place for a princess.” He kissed her knuckle chastely. “My dear friend and future queen, please abandon this.”

Dinah’s head was swirling. She hadn’t considered all the things that Wardley had said, but it didn’t matter. She knew the slithering feeling making its way up her spine, day by day. “As the Princess of Wonderland, I order you to help me.”

Wardley gave her an exasperated look. “You wouldn’t do that. Besides, I don’t have to listen to you. You’re not the queen yet.”

“But I will be.”

“And on that day, I will listen to you.”

Through the filtered moonlight, Dinah looked at him—her friend, her playmate. Someday maybe her lover. “I cannot do this without you, Wardley. We’ve always dreamed and imagined what the Black Towers would look like; well, here’s our chance.”

Wardley abruptly stood, grabbing her roughly by the shoulder. “This isn’t a game, Dinah. This isn’t us playing ‘Black Towers’ in the rose garden, ducking behind the bushes. There could be serious consequences. Do you want to lose your crown? Do you want me to lose my head?”

Dinah dropped her head with a whisper. “I know I am asking too much of you. But this is something I must do, with or without you. There is something else. The symbol on the note—the triangle made of waves? I’ve seen it before.”

With a finger, Dinah drew the symbol in the dirt-lined floor. Wardley looked at it blankly. “What is that?”

“It took me all night to remember, but I know where I’ve seen this symbol before. It’s etched in the tunnels below the palace. I remember, there were three hidden tunnels. One led to the Great Hall, one led to just outside the gates on the east side, and there was another one marked with this emblem.” She pointed to it. “Before, I thought it was a picture of a mountain—the Yurkei Mountains—a sign marking that the tunnel went in that direction. But I was wrong. It’s the symbol for the Black Towers. I think that tunnel leads into the Black Towers.”

Wardley scratched his chin, stubble already starting to grow back from that morning’s shave. “But how can we be sure?”

“We can’t.”

“And we wouldn’t know which tower Faina Baker was in to begin with.”

“That’s correct.”

Wardley now paced angrily, his boots stirring up a small dust cloud. Dinah could see that he was actively fighting his own curiosity. “How would we even get into the Great Hall? It’s guarded round the clock. Just for my amusement, let’s say we get in there, and then we use the tunnels to get in. Then what? We can’t just stroll around the Black Towers, the princess and I, out for a tour.”

“We can take care of that,” breathed Dinah. “I have a plan.”

“Let’s just say that we get in. We find Faina Baker in one of seven towers. We talk to her, have some tea, she tells us all sorts of secrets. Then what? We just stroll out onto the Iron Web? Make our way back to the tunnels?”

Dinah gave a shrug. “We have a lot to plan; I’m not saying it will be easy.”

“Easy? It’s madness. This is a suicide mission. And for what?”

Dinah raised herself up from the bench and took his arm gently. “For the future queen to have the upper hand before her coronation. For not wondering what if? For answers that have never been given to me, and never will be. For the possibility of understanding something about this place.”

“And if I lose my head?” Wardley asked.

“Then I will be very sorry,” she said. “It is a lovely head.”

She placed her hand on his cheek. She felt so near to him—his physical presence was overwhelming. She took in his hot breath washing over her face, the sweat shimmering on his brow, his curly chocolate hair pushed haphazardly back from his forehead. Without thinking, she pressed her lips against his. They were cool and soft, and hers felt warm and hungry against them. White lights exploded underneath Dinah’s eyelids and she opened her mouth slightly under his. His lips remained still as he jerked back in surprise, his hands on her shoulders.

“Dinah, I—” He didn’t have time to finish. Something moved in the darkness below. They heard the shuffling of feet, an unexplained whoosh of air. The ladder gave a wooden creak. In one rapid movement, Wardley drew his sword and pushed Dinah protectively behind him. His blade gleamed in the moonlight. “Someone’s here,” he whispered. “Don’t move. Stay behind me.”

Fear froze them both as a chill crept upon Dinah’s skin, a breath caught in her throat. Neither of them moved for several minutes, barely daring to breathe. From the darkness, the sounds of long, easy breaths drifted up the ladder. And then, just when the sound of her roaring heart was so loud she was sure it was drowning out the entire palace, the presence disappeared. The malignant air was sucked out of the room, although the feeling of being watched lingered. Dinah wondered if whoever it was had been there the entire time. Wardley replaced his sword.

“They’re gone. They couldn’t have heard us, could they?”

Dinah shook her head. Suddenly, there was a bang, and they both jumped toward each other as the doors of the Heart Chapel burst open and three Cards marched in for their nightly rounds. Dinah and Wardley ducked down into the Box to avoid being seen. She felt a rush of relief at the Cards’ presence, even though she lay on the stinking floor to avoid their gaze. Wardley looked over at her with wide eyes.

“There was someone there,” he whispered. “I heard him.”

Dinah gave a nod. Wardley gave her a look of defeat, his face coated with a fine layer of brown dust. “Fine,” he snapped. “I’ll go to the Black Towers with you, but I’m not going to enjoy it. You’re right—something is amiss. I hear whispers at the stables, and among the Cards. A Spade told me that the king fears for his life and is gathering his Cards all around him. But why?”

“You’ll go with me then?”

Wardley nodded, his ear cocked, listening to the watch. Dinah was glad to see them go, but the mortification of kissing him slowly returned now that the danger had gone.

“Wardley, I’m sorry about the—”

He cut her off. “Don’t worry about it.”

They heard the doors to the chapel slam shut, and suddenly they were alone again. Wardley grabbed her hand and yanked Dinah to her feet. “It’s time to go. Now.” They climbed quickly down the ladder, Wardley wrapping his arms around Dinah’s waist at the bottom and putting her on the ground. “Go, now. Go back to your chambers. Take the servants’ passage. We will talk about this later. Come see me at the stables tomorrow. We are not going to meet here again. Ever. I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”

Dinah didn’t need to be told twice, but she didn’t want to leave him, not while he was so upset. “Wardley, you don’t have to go to the Black Towers. I see now that I shouldn’t have asked you. But I must go. I am not a child anymore, and I need to know what is happening in my kingdom. Can you understand?”

Wardley glanced over at her like she was insane. “If you are going to be the Queen of Hearts,” he deadpanned, “you should try not to be so daft. I have no choice. If you go, I will go. You’re not as good with a sword as you think. Besides, if you die, your father will have my head one way or another. It might as well be for doing something brave.”

Dinah gave him a quick smile. “Brave? Or a fool’s errand?”

Dinah had played Wardley—she knew he could never resist an adventure. Wardley glanced around the empty room. It was silent.

“We’ll make a plan later, but we will take our time doing it. Now, go.”

She wanted to kiss him again, kiss him always, forever. But that was not happening tonight, so she picked up her skirt and ran as fast as she could to her bedchamber. It wasn’t until she lay in her bed that evening, replaying the kiss in all its awkward loveliness, the cool Wonderland breeze dancing over her skin, that she realized they had left the vial in the Box, along with a drawing in the dust of a wavy triangle. It was there alone, in the darkness, waiting to be discovered.