The Collectors' Society 01 (43 page)

Minutes later, I find myself in the unbearably awkward position of being left alone in the sitting room with both Finn and the White King. They are talking, though—and not spitefully so. The White King has asked about the Collectors’ Society, and Finn is more than willing to fill him in on the details. I join them but do not add to the discussion.

I am amazed that there is an ease between the two of them that I would not have guessed at before.

I doze on and off as they talk, doing my best to pretend I’m paying attention. They’re discussing politics, I think. Liaisons. The Society. The wars. The Courts. Todd. Rosemary. Catalysts and Timelines. I finally force my eyes to open wide, but it’s a rather embarrassingly loud yawn that finally draws their attention. Both men turn a bit sheepish, and perhaps I’m a bit delirious, but I find it adorable.

Past and future all in the present.

“Let us finish this once we’re rested,” the White King says. And then, carefully, “Perhaps you would be most comfortable in the master bedroom, my lady?”

I know he does not mean it as such, but it is a needle straight into my heart. I do not know if I can go into that room again. So many memories are tied up in there. My clothes still hang alongside his in the wardrobe. My hairbrush lies on a dresser. A painting we had done of the two of us hangs on a wall.

I am still too raw to be amongst such things. I fear I always will be.

“I truly appreciate the thought, but I must insist you take the room. This is, after all, your home.” It goes unsaid that my words would have been followed by
now
.

He nods and bids us goodnight.

Once we’re upstairs ourselves, Finn gently kisses me on the forehead and then goes into the room down the hallway. I peer in the opposite direction, toward the master bedroom, only to find its door still wide open. The White King has also chosen a different room, and probably for the same reasons as mine. I shut the door of the guest room I’ve selected behind me and slowly slide down to the floor. And then, as I stare at pictures and objects I hand chose for this beautiful room that hardly anyone else ever used or knew existed but I wished decorated anyway, I finally cry. Not a lot, and certainly not loud enough for anyone to hear, but just enough to relieve a bit of the pressure in my chest.

I’m finally in the only home that I truly felt safe in, only to turn around and abandon it once more.

M
ARY IS ALREADY IN the garden.

From a large bay window that curves through the wall facing the back, I watch her wander the small paved paths. Every so often she bends down and intently examines whatever it is she finds. My garden is not large, but its flowers, kept in line by a stern Rose named Begonia, are neat and well groomed. Their morning songs fill the damp air of the morning, pretty ones that highlight floral vanity. A snow-white tree rooted in the middle of the garden sways to their tune, its branches dipping gingerly over her head. They must be thrilled to have an audience now that I have been away for so long.

“She likes gardens.”

I turn to find Victor snacking on bits of dried meat as he lounges against a doorframe.

“She grew up with one,” he says between bites. “At that gloomy manor house of hers. Found a key or whatnot, and spent all sorts of time bringing it back to life.”

“And now she lives in a concrete city,” I muse, “and is denied such simple pleasures.”

“We all make sacrifices for the Society. This is hers, I suppose.”

I ought to mind my business, but my defenses have been weakened over the past few days. The Caterpillar would be utterly horrified. “What is yours?”

“I lost me mum.” He pauses as he tears apart one of the bits of jerky. “Both, to be honest.” A small smile surfaces. “I imagine you’re feeling like you’ve lost this.” He motions in a wide arc.

I turn back toward the window. “I’d already lost it before the Society. I suppose . . .”

He wanders closer as my voice fades.

“I suppose the Society has given me a place of my own now. A new place.”

He comes to lean against the wall closest to the window. “It’s done that for all of us. It asks a lot, and yet gives in return.”

“What are you two doing?”

Finn’s come to join us. I’m pleased that there is no hint of his paralysis at all in his gait.

“Watching Mary putt about in Alice’s garden.” Victor points at the window. “She’d probably be happy to stay ages out there if we had the time. How much do you want to bet she’ll find a way to finally create that greenhouse garden on the roof of the Institute she’s been prattling on about for years?”

Finn stuffs his hands in his pockets as he ambles over to where we are. “I wish we could allow her this afternoon, especially as she’s pissed she hasn’t collected everything she needs yet, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to leave shortly. I was talking with the King when one of the Ferzes came in with news. Apparently, some kind of birds brought messages early this morning. The Queen of Hearts has gotten wind of Alice’s presence in Wonderland. She’s threatening to execute some kind of political prisoner she has unless you show your face.”

The floor drops out from beneath my feet.
Queens don’t make deals
, she always told me. And yet, here she is, throwing one out? “How could she have heard?”

“Their guess,” Finn says quietly, “is that somebody in Nobbytown spilled the beans under duress.”

I close my eyes and rub my forehead. “The Hatter or the Hare. Or—more likely, both.”

Finn reaches out and gently massages my already tensing shoulders. “They were positive it was under duress.”

Yet another thing to feel guilty about. “Did they say which political prisoner?”

For a moment, I worry he won’t tell me. But then he says, “The King’s advisor. The Cheshire-Cat.”

Warring feelings of relief and anger pump through me. “I—I need—”

“You need to collect your crown and leave as quickly as possible.”

The White King strolls into the room, looking like he got no sleep at all over the last few hours. I know he means well, but I cannot just abandon him to this. “You expect me to leave when the Cheshire-Cat’s life is at stake?”

“We have already begun drafting a new plan to rescue him. I failed getting to the Caterpillar in time, failed to find the Cheshire after his initial capture, but I refuse to allow anything other than success this time.”

“You went for the Caterpillar?”

So much sadness fills his eyes. “Of course I did. I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to save him. But the Cheshire-Cat has a chance now, a chance we didn’t know existed. She sent me pieces of his tail several weeks ago, but it was strongly alluded to that he was dead. At the time, I was in the middle of another skirmish with the Red Queen, but I’m resolute in liberating our old friend.” And then, gently, “I need you to leave before we go.”

“It’s me she wants!” I jab a finger against my chest. “If I don’t show, she’s going to do the same to the Cheshire-Cat as she did the Caterpillar!” My anger and grief nearly blind me. “I cannot let another person who made the mistake of being loyal to me die!”

“Even at the expense of your own head? Because if you stay, that will be her singular goal. She has always hated how the people have championed you. There is nothing more she would love than to have your head decorating the entrance to the Hearts Court!”

“Alice,” Finn says. “He’s right.”

“You’re asking me to leave my country, my people, in the middle of a war.” I’m furious with the both of them, for this collusion I didn’t even know existed. “You’re asking me to put my life above others?”

“No. God, no. And I never would ask that of you,” Finn says. He tries to grab me, but I sidestep him. “And you know that I get where you’re coming from, but we have to get the catalyst back to the Institute. What purpose would your death serve right now? To prove that she was right, that she could have your head if she wants?” He reaches out again, capturing hands that have begun tugging at my hair. “The best revenge is living. Dying for no other reason than stubbornness serves no purpose at all.”

“But—”

But I cannot argue with them. They’re maddeningly both right. What could I do if I stayed? My army has folded into the White King’s. I ceded my land to his rule in my absence, so my citizens rest under his protection. This tiny bit we were allowed, my people with his under one rule—just not a Queen and King united together. My presence would trigger the prophecy to become twice as worse. And if I stayed, I am a realist enough to know that there is no way I could resist the King standing before me. And if that were to happen, our love would turn apocalyptic.

And he knows it, too. The desperate, desolate sheen in his eyes tells me the exact same thing.

“Your purpose is still noble,” the White King says. “It is as you said. You are still championing our people and millions of others who do not know you, but deserve your help nonetheless. You may not be doing it on a battlefield, but it is the truth all the same. Do not think that your departure today is a sign of cowardice or weakness. It is not. Our people have held onto the fact that their Queen still lives. You are constantly in their thoughts, in their songs and in their protests. They do not want a martyr. They need you as you are. The strong, selfless Queen who put their lives above her own and paid the ultimate sacrifice.” And then, softly, “May I have a moment alone with the Queen?”

Finn doesn’t hesitate when he tells me he and Victor will be out in the garden with Mary if I need them.

“Bloody hell, that garden is freaky,” Victor is arguing. “Those flowers are talking!”

But his younger brother simply shoves him toward the door anyway, shutting it behind them.

When they’re gone, the White King takes my hands. It’s such a bittersweet sensation, standing here in our house, in our sitting room, holding hands as we overlook our garden. “Alice, please. I need you to go. I will not be able to focus on the matters at hand if I am terrified that those from the Queen’s Council will track you down and extract their price at any moment.”

“We could fight them together.”

“We are.” He brings my hands up and presses a long kiss against the pulse of a wrist. Nerves flare to painful life within my body. “Your army is with mine. Our citizens reside together. I bear your blade. I wear your H. When I rule, I think of the wishes we’ve spoken of for so long. Your dreams for Wonderland are still coming to fruition through me. There is not a day that goes by in which I do not have you in my thoughts or purposes. When I fight, I fight for the two of us. Our soldiers always sing both our songs, so that when they are triumphant, Wonderland knows they have the Queen of Diamonds to thank, too.” Another kiss, this time on the other wrist. “You said it yourself. Your destiny is not in Wonderland, not matter how much we may wish differently.”

My breath is shaky.

“I also meant what I said. Your destiny, your new purpose, is noble. You will always be a Queen. You will always be doing what is right for others. You just will not be doing it here with me.”

Blood stains his shirt once more, and I think, if only he could see how my heart has just broken, too.

His thumbs pull away quiet tears from my cheeks. “Now, let us get your crown.”

I follow him down into the basement and then through a sleepy door. From there, we go through a trap door that leads to the vault beneath our home. Inside the loyal double-knobbed door is nothing else but my crown sitting upon a pedestal.

The White King gently places it on my head. A hum fills my ears, a happy hum signaling recognition. My crown, the crown of the Diamonds, feels as it always has since the day it first appeared on my head. It feels right.

I whisper, “If this is the catalyst, and I remove it from Wonderland, it must mean the Diamond line ends with me.”

“Then it saved the best for last.”

It’s my turn to grab his hands. “Promise me you will live. I can’t leave unless you do that.
Live
live, Jace. Not some kind of half existence. You deserve more than that.”

Our foreheads come together; my eyes close. He whispers softly, “That is my most fervent wish for you as well.”

My arms wrap around him, his around me. Every joint in my body trembles as I struggle to hold myself up during this last goodbye. But then, all too soon, we let go.

Upstairs, everyone is already packed and ready to go. We will be heading in two separate directions—The White King to his encampment to collect soldiers for his assault against the Queen of Hearts, and my team to Nobbytown. The Ferzes are beside themselves at the thought of sending me out alone without a team, no matter how strongly Finn and Victor argue otherwise.

But then the Five of Diamonds says, “I will go with them, my lord and lady.”

Victor is incensed. “Over my dead body! You were going to bloody kill us before Alice said that safe word!”

“Pardon my rudeness, Doctor, but it very well may be over your dead body if I don’t.” The Five’s eyes stare straight ahead, his pike rigid by his side. “I have been tasked with protecting the Queen of Diamonds, and until I am ordered otherwise by my commanding officer or my liege lord, the White King, I will do so.”