Splintered (28 page)

That cuts me, and I don’t even know why. I’m adrift in confusion and disbelief over everything: our kiss, his confession, my standoff with the bandersnatch; most of all, that Jeb and I are about to go home.
Stretching to hold me at arm’s length, Morpheus stares at my face, silent.
“So, now you crown me,” I venture, needing to break the intense magnetism between us. “And I’m done.”
He glances down at his shoes. “Yes. Then you’re done.” Without another word, he lights several torches along the wall, brightening the room. Then he retrieves his hat and settles it into place on his head.
His clothes are in a shambles, just like mine. I cast a glance at the sleeping bandersnatch locked inside the pen. Why did Morpheus have me wear my coronation dress to something that would leave it crumpled and ruined? A niggling of suspicion is reborn as he returns with the ruby crown in hand.
“If you like,” he says, “I could crown you here and now—privately. No more performances. This can all be over in a matter of minutes.”
His words shoot down my suspicions. He doesn’t sound very convincing, but I like the part about doing this without all of Wonderland watching. “Yes.”
His free palm opens to display my wish. “When you’re ready, squeeze it to burst in your hand while thinking of your heart’s dearest desire. But be sure to choose your words carefully. Say that you wish to be free of Queen Red’s influence forever. That is the only way to free your family.”
I nod.
For some reason, he won’t meet my gaze. “All I ask is that you wait for me to crown you before you make that wish.” His lashes cloak his eyes, and the jewels on his face blink three different shades of blue—as if he’s indecisive about something.
I slip off my gloves and take the bead, still warm from being in his pocket.
He surprises me by offering something else—the jade carving of the caterpillar from his room. “So you’ll never forget me, or your better side.”
I take it, swallowing against the doubt in my throat.
He lifts the ruby crown over my head.
I clamp my fingers around the gelled wish, waiting for my cue, rehearsing to make the words perfect in my mind.
“I crown you Queen Alyssa, rightful ruler of the Red Court.”
He’s no sooner placed the circlet on my head than the door flies open. Card guards and elfin knights fill the room, expressions stern and solemn. Two elves point their swords at Morpheus and force him to his knees. Gossamer hovers over one of the knight’s heads and Morpheus glares up at her.
“You spilled the magic beans, eh, traitorous pet?” he asks with venom.
An apology glimmers in her coppery eyes. “The guilt would’ve eaten you alive,” her bell-like voice chimes. “To take an innocent girl from all she knows and place her in a foreign world, away from her friends and family. So blinded by fear, you could not see you were repeating what happened to Alice. You are my most beloved master . . . I will not watch you wither away in regret. Better you face your fate with nobility.”
Morpheus hisses at her. “Nobility? Was it not noble that I saved your life? Now you’re condemning me to death! I should’ve left you to be eaten by that fanged toad all those years ago.” The elves tighten their stance over him, and Gossamer hangs her head in shame.
The knights and guards around me part to make an opening for someone coming through the door.
“What’s going on—?” My last word clips short as a woman in ivory lace—flesh and gown glistening like ice crystals—steps forward. Her feathery white wings arch high and graceful, like a swan’s, complementing the lovely turn of her long neck beneath waistlength silvery hair. Her face is familiar for its beauty and loneliness, and she carries the pewter hatbox that once imprisoned her.
The Ivory Queen.
How did she get out? Did Queen Grenadine and King Red release her?
One glance at the roses on the box, and that hypothesis falls to shreds. The roses used to be white. Now they’re the color of . . .
Blood
.
Ivory steps up, inches away from where Morpheus kneels.
“You seduced me,” she accuses him, her voice cracking. In spite of the angry frost shooting from her bluish white eyes, tears roll down her cheeks.
“Recovered your memories, I see,” Morpheus remarks, smug even in the face of the swords pointed at him.
“Along with my crown.” She touches the glistening diamond tiara on her head. “You used such pretty words.” She sobs. “All the nights we shared. You made me think you cared for me . . . used my affection to trick me into the box.” Her delicate fingers brush the wetness from her face. “Then you framed King Red and turned my court against him, all so you could close my portal and hold the young princess here until she completed your plan! Have you told her yet? The truth of it all? What you intended to take from her?”
I look down at Morpheus. The guilt on his face sickens me. “He told me I could leave after I was queen.” I throw the caterpillar carving at his feet. “What else is there?”
Morpheus stares at the chess piece next to his knee. “Nothing. To atone for all of the wrongs done to her, I was to see Red’s blood heir crowned as ruler of the Red Court.”
A queen in ruby-colored robes, with ribbons on her toes and fingers that match her flaming hair, pushes forward, her king and guards flanking her. It’s Queen Grenadine. “There is more . . . the sprite told us . . .” She holds a beribboned hand to her ear, listening to the whispers. “Yes . . . there was one other stipulation to his curse, you see. One that will lock you forever to this place.”
“He never intended for you to leave,” Ivory tells me.
I curl my fingers around the gelled tear. If that’s true, then why the charade with the wish?
“In your mad rush for freedom,” Ivory says, her attention once again on Morpheus, “you have cost a noble mortal man his life and betrayed both courts. Amends will be made for your heresy.”
The words
mortal man
ice my heart. I turn to the jabberlock box and the blood-painted roses. My chest cinches tight with a horrible intuition. “Where’s Jeb?”
Ivory opens the box’s lid, sympathy softening her expression.
My stomach writhes even before I see the matted dark hair in the black water, even before it spins to reveal a face so familiar it scrapes my soul bare.

He looks confused as he watches me from inside the jabberlock box; then a flash of knowing brightens his eyes. “Al.” His lips mime my name on a surge of bubbles. The muted word breaks me in half. I was supposed to be his lifeline . . . how could I let this happen?

“Oh, you idiot!” Morpheus shouts up at Jeb. “Just had to be the hero, didn’t you?”
“You are to blame for his state.” King Red steps up to speak. “Your actions caused this earthly young man to make a choice . . . an irreversible one.”
“You’re one to speak of blame,” Morpheus shoots right back, arrogant as ever. A knight whacks him on the head with a gloved palm.
Guilt gouges so deeply inside me, I almost double over from the pain. I kissed another guy, and Jeb bled his body dry for me. “This can’t be happening,” I say to Ivory, swatting tears away.
Her expression grows tender. “I’m so sorry. My court would never have listened to King Red’s claims of being framed. The only one they would believe was their very own queen. Morpheus planned to set me free but only after he succeeded in trapping you here. Gossamer told your mortal boy, and he chose to take my place so I could stop Morpheus from completing his plan. He could not bear for you to be locked in our world forever.”
“But now
he
is,” I mumble. Jeb watches me through the liquid. Pain pierces my heart—as if the organ is being pecked by ravenous birds.
An ocean red from bonds of love, and paint the roses’ hearts thereof
. . . It was Jeb’s love for me that opened the box. The same love that’s so bright in his eyes, it reaches through all the barriers between us—breaking through the dark water and glass to remind me of his faith:
“ You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Even if things get screwed up, you’ll still find a way to help me.”
He’s right. It won’t end like this. I won’t let it.
The clear bead sparkles in my palm. My wish can’t be used directly for him, but it can still save him.
I glare through my tears at Morpheus. “You once told me if I helped you, I’d be helping myself. Setting things right in Wonderland would free me and my family, forever.”
He nudges the caterpillar carving with a finger. It spins on the marble floor. “Have you never heard the saying, ‘The truth shall set you free’? I gave you that. A glimpse of the real you.”
He doesn’t care that I can’t hear Jeb’s voice. That I can’t touch his skin. He doesn’t care that Jeb’s terrified of losing control of his life but he gave up all control just to save me.
What’s worse, soon enough, Jeb won’t remember me. He won’t even remember himself.
Morpheus doesn’t care about any of that. All he cares about is carrying out Queen Red’s Deathspeak challenge.
I bend down, level with his ear. “If I could, I’d make you take his place.”
Morpheus’s jaw clenches. “The magic is final. Your mortal knight saw to that.
One trade of souls will shut the door, and blood shall seal it, evermore.
”
Every muscle in my body tenses, holding me back from attacking him. Instead, I touch the red flocked roses. “I could join him. The wish can be used to put me inside.”
“I’ll not allow it!” Morpheus tries to stand, but the knights place their sword tips at his sternum.
“It will be a wasted wish.” Gossamer lights on my shoulder. “Only one soul will fit in the box at a time. Besides, the portal will never open again—in or out.”
Jeb mimes the words, “Go home.”
Regret claws at me, juxtaposed with overwhelming anger. He had no right to make this sacrifice. No right to give up his life for me. No right to leave me here alone.
I stroke the glass above his face, memorizing every line. If I wish that we never came, neither of us will have been here for this to happen.
Morpheus struggles against his captors, still on his knees, reminding me why I came here to begin with. If I put everything back as it was, he’ll be free again, too. Free to torment my family until someone stops him once and for all.
There’s only one solution, and it’s as clear as the blue sky when Jeb and I flew across the chasm on floating boards.
I kiss the cold, hard glass separating us, remembering his lips like they were in the Hall of Mirrors. Soft, warm, giving, and alive. Those first kisses will be our last.
“What you gave up for me,” I tell him. “Everything you’ve done while we’ve been here is amazing. If I make it back home, I’ll spend my life thanking you.”
Jeb’s mouth drops open. He shakes his head, forcing bubbles to churn all around him. His hair swirls like black moss floating on water.
“No, Alyssa!” Morpheus’s screams are strangely synchronized with Jeb’s silent ones. But it’s too late. I’ve squeezed the tear, and the liquid drizzles down my wrist, warm with the scent of brine and longing.
In my mind, I send up my heart’s deepest desire: that I had never answered the door on prom night when Jeb first came knocking, that I had stepped into that mirror alone.
Behind my closed eyes, a giant pocket watch spins, its hands turning counterclockwise. Everything happens in reverse: my wings sinking back into my skin; our ride on the clams shuffling us upward onto the crumpled chessboard, which levels to a smooth, sandy slant; surfing up instead of down and jumping backward onto March Hairless’s table, face-to-face with icy statues; the kisses in the mirrored hall, all of them taken back—slipped away into a pocket of time never to be remembered by anyone but me; I see the ocean refilling, us leaping into the rowboat, then the octobenus sliding back into the water while we fall asleep once more, only to awaken on the white sandy beaches; me riding atop Jeb’s shoulder as he walks backward, shrinking down to my size as we battle the flowers, then backtrack to the tiny door. Into the rabbit hole, then up, up, up to face the sunshine. Until at last, Jeb’s gone, and I’m falling down the rabbit hole—me and no one else.
My lungs wheeze as if I’ve been dragged underwater. I open my eyes.
All the memories remain, and everything’s the same: Morpheus pinned in place by knights’ swords; the queens, side by side; the guards looking on in anticipation; and Gossamer on my shoulder.
Worst of all . . . the jabberlock box. The roses are still red. Ivory holds the pewter cube in her hands. I’m about to scream, because the wish didn’t work, and I failed.
The tears in Queen Grenadine’s eyes stop me.
I step closer to the box. On the other side of the opened lid, King Red stares back through black water. Without Jeb here to make the sacrifice, the king used his love for Grenadine to trade places with Ivory, saving both kingdoms. Maybe in some small way, that redeems him for breaking my great-great-great-grandmother’s heart all those years ago.
I wonder if anyone remembers Jeb. The confusion in their eyes tells me they don’t. But I’d bet my life Morpheus does. He’s always been able to get into my mind.
“Foolhardy choice,” he says, confirming my suspicion. “By being the martyr, you’ll never see your family again. How do you think fragile little Mumsy will feel about that?”
“Oh, I’ll see them,” I answer. “It was never the netherling traits that were my family’s curse.
You
were the curse. Today, I’m breaking you. I’m queen now. The portals are open for me. So I’m going back home, and my family will finally be free.”
He glances down at his shoes, his jewels blinking black and blue, like bruises. “Such pretty delusions, little luv. Almost pretty enough for a fairy tale.” A hoarseness scrapes his voice, tingeing it with remorse.
Tired of his mind games, I start to lift off Grenadine’s crown.
My fingers lock up at the base of the rubies, unable to move. Underneath Queen Red’s hairpin, my scalp flames. White-hot tendrils reach down from my skull into my spine, nailing my entire body into place.
The sensation migrates to my arms, setting my veins on fire. They glow green again, like in the spirit garden, sprouting into ivy. The same sensation runs up my legs beneath the wide skirt. This time, the vines don’t recede into my skin. They grow larger, expand with my breath—a living, breathing plant growing out of me.
I scream as the vines strike like leafy snakes, snapping Gossamer from my shoulder and lashing out at everyone around me.
“What is happening?” Grenadine wails, the ribbons on her fingers all whispering at once.
“Your husband’s sacrifice was for naught!” Ivory screams. “Red’s spirit was in the hairpin . . . she’s united with the girl . . . they are one being!”
The knights and guards, fearing for their queens, turn their weapons on me.
Morpheus uses the distraction to whip his wings closed around his chest, knocking the remaining knights off him. With a turn of his heels, he maneuvers behind Ivory and catches her around the waist, vorpal sword at her throat. “Step away from Queen Alyssa, or I slice Ivory in twain and awaken the bandersnatch for a feeding.”
Everyone freezes. Even Gossamer hovers in midair. I want to make a run for the door, but I can’t move. Queen Red is fighting for control of my body, and it takes every last drop of concentration and strength to keep her contained.
“All of you”—Morpheus gestures toward the door—“get out. This is between the three of us now. Or the four of us, if you count the queen you stabbed in the back a lifetime ago.”
Gossamer’s the first to leave, her green shoulders drooping. Grenadine takes the jabberlock box from Ivory and walks backward toward the entrance along with her guards, nearly tripping over some of the dead soldiers on their way out. The elfin knights stand at the ready, waiting for a command from Ivory.
“Do not test me.” Morpheus spreads his wings high and presses the blade to her jugular until a puckered indentation appears.
“Go,” she rasps.
A wave of frustration ripples through the knights as they back to the doorway, swords lowered, but the emotion can only be felt, not seen. Their faces remain impassive. The door slams shut behind them.
Dragging Ivory with him, Morpheus locks and bars the door, then turns to me, narrowing his eyes at the crown on my head. “My part is done, wretched witch. I am now free of you.”
“Well enough . . .”
Red’s answer rings through my head and forces its way from my mouth on a gust of air.
“But I have expanded my expectations. Being imprisoned for so long, I deserve retribution. Bring your captive closer. I want her crown-magic as well. Do it, and I’ll offer you a position at my side as king, ruling over all of Wonderland.”