Ensnared (32 page)

I bite my lip.

“Al, what are you thinking?” Jeb presses.

Dad stands up from the table, favoring his left leg.

I drag my fingers though my damp hair to hide that they’re trembling. “Morpheus always has an escape plan. That’s why he took a simulacrum suit. For him to be captured, he had to
let
himself be captured. Something made him alter the original plan. Maybe he even let a few things slip on purpose. Everything that’s happened in this mountain tonight has been a strategic move to get us to come after him. For some reason, it’s important that we go to that castle tomorrow, and that one of us . . . me . . . is fully visible.”

Dad slams his fist on the table, rattling the plate. “That’s suicide! We should head straight to the Wonderland gate while everyone is preoccupied at this monster fest.”

“I’m going.” I scoop up the garment bag. “It doesn’t matter why
he was captured. Intentional or not, he’s been captured, which means his suit has been confiscated, too. He’s put himself in real danger. I won’t leave him there. And he’s counting on it.”

I don’t finish my explanation . . . that I have to save him because the netherling side of me has fallen in love with him. I don’t have time to deal with the fallout of admitting that aloud.

Dad slaps his gimp leg. “We should at least try to get real backup. Without a suit for me, I’m worthless. We weren’t able to send the pigeon back, so Bernard is probably halfway here, looking for us. We could find him, enlist his help.”

“That could take a full day,” Jeb says.

I shake my head. “Morpheus doesn’t have that much time.”

Dad’s eyelid twitches. “You are not putting your neck out for that manipulative—”

“Dad!” I try to overlook his prejudice. He didn’t see firsthand how Morpheus assisted when he’d been stung, or any of the other courageous things Morpheus has done in the past—all incredible feats for a solitary, selfish fae.

He also can’t see that deep inside, my netherling instincts are telling me the reason Morpheus has arranged this is somehow related to Wonderland’s best interests. Though I still don’t completely trust his methods, I understand his motives. And one thing I will never doubt is his loyalty to his beloved home.

Our
home.

“I agree with Al,” Jeb says, shocking me and Dad both. “You know I’m the last person to jump on the Bugs‘R’Us bandwagon.” He casts me a dark scowl, ensuring me of his everlasting disdain for Morpheus. “I don’t like his tactics, but he’s protected me while we’ve been here. He could’ve exploited me for prestige and power.
For whatever reason, he did the right thing. Because of that, we owe it to him to see him back to Wonderland.”

Earlier, I explained to Jeb what Morpheus said about him being a vessel, and he’s still not backing out. He trusts my strength and judgment that much.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

Something flickers in his eyes before he tears his gaze from mine:
anguish
. It cuts as deftly as a blade. I know it’s because of my unspoken feelings for Morpheus. Even with all that’s settled between us, I’m starting to understand that asking Jeb to live a life with me, while knowing I’ll have a future with another, might be too much for any mortal man to endure. I only hope it doesn’t keep him from walking through the Wonderland gate when it’s time, no matter what it means for us.

That intense tearing sensation digs deeper into my heart. I turn my back to mask my wince and press my thumb to my sternum, starting toward the stairs.

“You can’t be serious about this,” Dad says from behind.

I inhale a few shallow breaths. “It’s time for me to face Red. No more hiding.” I’m resigned to the fight ahead, knowing she’s the only one who can fix all the things that are wrong—in me and Wonderland. There’s relief in acknowledging that.

“It’s a trap!” Dad shouts. I hear him shuffling awkwardly on his wounded leg. “What’s your advantage once you’re captured?”

I twirl to face him. Jeb has resurrected Dad’s shadow. The dark creature cups Dad’s elbows from behind to help him balance.

“Our advantage,” I answer, “is that Jeb, Chessie, and I are the only three beings in this world who can use magic. Which is the same reason you can’t stop me. So you can either go along and hide
outside the castle as backup, or wait here until it’s over. I love you, Dad, but it’s my kingdom at risk, so it’s my call as queen.”

Jeb studies his boots. Dad clenches his jaw so hard I could swear the scorpion fly’s poison has seeped into his chin. Yet he doesn’t say another word.

Up in the tower, I take out the gown and admire how the winged tiers shimmer in the soft starlight—the orange, red, and black contrasting like shadows to flames. It almost seems sacrilegious to loosen the glittery green centipede legs so meticulously sewn into place, to leave each fringe weakened. But Morpheus would applaud the choice. In fact, I sense that I’m doing exactly what he expects me to.

Once I’m done, I take the diary key off my neck. It’s useless now. I carefully slide the dress into place over my skin. It fits as if painted on, hugging my curves and flaring at my knees. The lining is made of rabbit’s fur. I’m wrapped in a shell of comfort, while on the outside, all it will take is my magical coaxing to lift away the centipede hems and expose the wings’ razor-sharp edges, rendering me untouchable.

I can’t think of a better coat of arms. I won’t be standing in the presence of Red or Hart wearing a knight’s tunic and baggy pants. In this dress, I’ll be playing the part of Medusa, turning my evil ancestors to stone with a brash baring of terrible beauty. If the stingers hadn’t been removed, I could change Hart to a literal statue, which would make her surrender of Red’s spirit so much simpler. Instead, I have a gown with bite enough to make the heartless queen think twice about dismissing me or my demands.

I slip into my red leathery shoulder gloves to protect my arms, then pull on the leggings and boots—which, of course, are the perfect fit. Perfect for walking straight into the wisdom keeper’s web.

I’m not going in blind. I know Morpheus has an agenda. All I can do is hope it’s for the greater good, and that his plan is foolproof this time.

Otherwise, I’m the biggest fool of all, for leading the two humans I love most to their deaths.

We decide a few hours of sleep are more important than Jeb altering the landscape to our benefit. When morning arrives, it’s cloudy and cold, but at least we’re rested and ready for battle.

We fly toward the castle—Jeb and Dad carried by their shadows, and me soaring high on a chilly updraft of wind. Morpheus’s shadow follows behind at Jeb’s command so we’ll all have a way to escape once our business at the castle is done.

Sunrise streaks the horizon in tendrils of bloody red splashed across a stone gray sky; I try to convince myself it’s not an omen. Our destination is a cliff far enough from the castle to avoid being seen by the goon birds and their bats patrolling the turrets, yet close enough to scope out the entrance.

We arrive at an outcropping of rocks that form a cave. I land gracefully behind some trees, wishing Morpheus were here to see. “
It’s all in the ankles
,” I mumble.

Chessie tucks himself beneath my loose bun, tickling the nape of my neck. Jeb and Dad alight beside me and we peer through the thickly clustered trunks. In lieu of water, the moat surrounding the outer walls contains ash—the remains of the dead. A school of giant eels, appearing prehistoric with bony obtrusions jutting from their backs like shark fins, swim through the powdered carnage.

They’re nothing like my pets at home.

A motley crowd of mutants are gathered on the outer banks of
the moat, waiting, just like us, for the drawbridge to drop and invite them in.

Though
invite
isn’t quite the right word. There’s nothing welcoming about this place. Giant fanged skulls sit atop the turrets as if in effigy, along with skeletal tails that wind around the towers in coils. It’s as if a legion of dragons wrapped around the stone to die, then petrified. The outer walls slump inward on an unnatural slant, giving the impression they could fall and crush everyone inside at any moment.

A loud creaking howl accompanies the lowering drawbridge and tugs at my gut.

“We need to get down there,” Jeb says.

I turn to Dad. “Please don’t be angry.”

He sighs. “How could I be? Your mom would’ve done the same thing. Sacrificed everything to save someone she cared about. She did, in fact.”

I hug him, breathing in all the scents of home. When I was a little girl, snuggled against his shoulder, I always felt safe. That will never change. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Sure,” he mumbles against my head. “I understand. But I don’t have to like it.”

He’ll like it even less when he sees who I’m bringing back in addition to Morpheus.

“I love you, Butterfly,” he whispers.

“I love you, too.” He holds me so long, I have to break free.

Sighing, he turns to Jeb to clap his shoulder and hand off his iron dagger. “Take care of my girl.”

Jeb secures the weapon. “She’s the one with all the moves. I’m hoping she’ll take care of me.”

Before Dad can delay us another second, we’re on our way.

We wind through the trees to the end of the cliff and coast down behind a craggy outcropping. Jeb sends his shadow back to stay with Dad.

While waiting to slip into line, Jeb studies my face, as if memorizing every feature. I glide my gloved fingers across his cheek, brushing aside some dark wavy strands.

His gaze intensifies, full of unnameable emotions. “Let’s get you ready, foxy lady.”

I manage a grin as he takes out a furry foxlike mask from inside his jacket and slides it into place over my eyes. He painted it for me, custom-designed the eye slits and muzzle to fit the top half of my face. Feathers form the ears, and he even added a butterfly’s antennae. With the addition of my wings and dress, I almost look the part of the insects I once killed so thoughtlessly.

I straighten the simulacrum suit over his tux and T-shirt. He has the other suit along with his painting items inside the duffel bag he’s slung across his shoulder, ready for Morpheus once he finds him. I know he’s secretly hoping to find his doppelganger, too, although he hasn’t said it aloud.

“Time to blend in,” Jeb says, tucking Chessie’s dangling tail into my bun.

I nod, but I’m not ready to stop looking at him yet. He’s the only thing giving my legs the strength to stand.

“Just remember,” he says. “We stick to the plan. Get Hart alone, convince her to hand Red over, and I’ll search the dungeon. Once you get Red, hightail it out. Don’t worry about us. We’ll be invisible, and you can fly. Everything’s going to be all right. Send Chessie if something goes wrong, and we’ll find you.”

I nod again. There’s so much I want to say to him:
Thank you for your faith in me, for always putting yourself on the line for this crazy half life of mine—I love you and don’t want to lose you . . .
But all I can manage is, “Be safe.”

“Back at ya.” He tucks the duffel bag under his arm to keep it hidden under the simulacrum and starts to gather the hood over his head.

As if rethinking, he stops and laces his fingertips through my gloved hand, pulling me close. “In case I don’t get another chance to tell you . . . One, you look amazing.” He traces my eye markings where they curl out from under the fuzzy edges of my mask. “And two . . .” He turns my hand to kiss my covered palm. “You got this, fairy queen.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, I throw my arms around his neck. He hugs me tight, presses his lips to the top of my head, then steps back and pulls his hood into place, vanishing from sight.

His invisible fingertips touch my leather ones, leading me out to follow the current of creatures great and small. With the comforting pressure of his hand driving me, I trail the end of the line.

My dress jangles softly as we tromp across the wooden bridge, a mellifluous undercurrent at odds with the ominous swishing of the eels some twenty feet beneath us. A shiver races through my spine as Chessie burrows deeper into my hair.

Gurgles, snorts, and murmurs drift from the guests, shifting my attention from what’s below to what’s ahead. In appearance, they’re similar to the netherlings I encountered in Wonderland at the Feast of Beasts a year ago . . . more bestial than humanoid, some with living plants growing out of their skin. Though these creatures are twisted and gnarled, mutated from using their magic.

It’s a hard habit to break, as proven by Jeb’s struggle to walk away from the power. Maybe that’s an upside to my letting Red possess me. It will give Jeb even more incentive to leave, in case my vow for a future isn’t enough.

As we step off the bridge, we filter through a small covered portico, then the courtyard opens up—some three acres wide. Rising high in the center are two thirty-story skeletal frames, tall and loopy, like twin roller coasters made of giant bones, eerily similar to the petrified dragon remnants on the castle towers. So mesmerized by the sight, I nearly trip over a reptilian tail in front of me. A snarling mouth travels along its scales, sliding from the creature’s face to the end of its tail, and yaps at me like a disgruntled puppy.