Morpheus rubs his temple. “Red must’ve smuggled them out before she was exiled from the throne. When she launched her revenge against you and me, she didn’t simply plan to destroy the beauty here . . . she was going to eradicate everything.”
“But why? I thought she wanted her kingdom back?”
“It must have been her alternate plan, in case something went awry with the Alice one. This way, she could level all of Wonderland, then rebuild to her specifications.”
“Of course. That fits. She wanted to rule over everything.” I’m about to tell him how she intended to use our child as a bargaining chip to defeat Ivory and rule both kingdoms, but he interrupts.
“She must’ve released the plague after you left for the human realm,” he says. “After she found a new body to inhabit. That’s when it all started falling apart.”
“And that’s when you tried to get me to come back.” I move to the nearest tree and slide my scarred palm over the glacial bark. I sense Morpheus’s closeness, but don’t turn around. I’m too ashamed. “I should’ve listened.”
“You had a bit of a learning curve.” There’s restraint in his voice. He’s angry. “What matters is what you do with what you learned.”
“But can Red’s magic fix this?”
He sighs, placing his hand alongside mine on the tree so his body and wings hedge me in. “It comes down to more than fixing at this point. It is a renewal. Creating the world anew is the only way to stop the infection, and only the power of those who’ve once experienced crown-magic have that ability. It takes lineage from both kingdoms working together. Ivory couldn’t do it alone. That’s why she froze everything, to keep the inhabitants from getting infected until you came and could help. Together, you’ll re-create the landscapes and then, once they’re pure, Ivory can safely release all the netherlings from her suspension spell. It might take every ounce of power Red has left, paired with yours and Ivory’s, to address a pandemic so widespread.”
My eyes tear up, because my magic is only as strong as I am, and Red’s is waning.
Morpheus strokes my hair where it hangs between my shoulder blades. “There is a silver lining, luv. You won’t have to cast her out. You’ll simply use her up. And then she shall be defeated at last. Gone forever.”
He doesn’t realize I’ve already used most of her up. In trying to keep myself alive, I’ve damned Wonderland to die. I never considered how closely entwined our fates might be.
I crumple, my palm skating along the tree’s frozen face as I plop to the ground.
“Alyssa?” Morpheus crouches beside me in an instant. He catches my chin and forces me to look at him. “Are you feeling anemic again?”
I struggle to breathe. It grates inside my chest, like inhaling angry bees. Blood creeps into my throat and gags me.
Morpheus’s jeweled markings flash through an anxious kaleidoscope of colors. He whips off his jacket, wraps me in it, and rolls up his shirt cuff. “Take off your boot so I can heal you.”
I clench my teeth against moving. The only way to manage the agonizing pain, to keep my heart from ripping any further, is to stay frozen like everything around me.
Morpheus gives up waiting, peels away the boot, and pushes up my legging’s hem. He traces the tattoo that he loves to tease me about, then presses our birthmarks together. A spark rushes between us, expanding like a flame through my veins. The power heals his neck and my arms, yet never quite reaches my heart.
During the euphoric rush of warmth, Morpheus’s gaze locks on mine and I’m bared to the bone. He sees what’s wrong.
“Oh, little plum.” His voice is a croak of despair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I clamp my eyes shut. “I’m sorry.” The apology turns into a wheeze.
“No,” he snarls. “You did try to tell me. In the mountain. And in Hart’s playroom. I was too bloody preoccupied to listen.”
No more guilt. He needs to be thinking of our home. “Find a way.” I gulp back another rush of blood and saliva. “Save Wonderland.”
Morpheus lifts me into his arms, cradling me gently. “That’s exactly what I intend to do.” Even though I can feel his warmth seeping through our clothes, I shiver.
Through half-lidded eyes, I watch blue lightning zap from his fingertips to the branches overhead. Using it like ropes, he tugs the canopy apart. His wings flap, stirring up snowy gusts. We launch out of the woodland and into the sky. Wonderland’s sleeping terrain passes beneath us at dizzying heights—white and glittering. Black fringe dots my peripheral vision.
My stomach kicks once, reminding me I’m alive. Then I close my eyes, and face the darkness waiting there.
The sound of chimes wakes me, tinkly and melodious. A flurry of sprites skitters along my body. My dreadlocks are gone and my hair fans my pillow in lustrous, white-blond waves. The sprites sweep makeup brushes and sparkling jeweled clips into place with as much precision and proficiency as an automatic car wash, leaving the scent of perfume and powder in their wake.
One sprite rushes by my nose and tickles the tip. She looks so much like Nikki, I do a double take. The itch she caused evolves to a sneeze, sending all the tiny fairies in a scatter like dandelion seeds.
They chitter in annoyance.
I rub my eyes, sit up, and take stock of my surroundings.
I’m sunken inside a large bed under downy quilts so white and fluffy they look like drifts of snow. The sprites gather up baskets from the white marble floor, four to a handle, and flitter through the half-opened door.
I blink. I’ve never been here, but I know this place from the sketches Morpheus once drew in the back of Mom’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland book. This is Ivory’s glass castle and I’m in an ornate chamber: glass walls frosted with ice to give me privacy from the other side, and crystal candleholders with no candles or wicks. Their silver flames float, like glowworms suspended in midair.
A crystallized chaise lounge sits in front of a fireplace where more silver flames crackle. Somehow, they give off heat and light without melting the ice on the walls. Mom and Dad sleep soundly atop the white cushion, her in his lap and their legs tangled together. His handsome profile is scruffy, his nose buried in her long, pinkish blond hair. The strands twitch, alive with magic. Her gauzy wings are folded behind her like a butterfly’s at rest.
“But why? I thought she wanted her kingdom back?”
“It must have been her alternate plan, in case something went awry with the Alice one. This way, she could level all of Wonderland, then rebuild to her specifications.”
“Of course. That fits. She wanted to rule over everything.” I’m about to tell him how she intended to use our child as a bargaining chip to defeat Ivory and rule both kingdoms, but he interrupts.
“She must’ve released the plague after you left for the human realm,” he says. “After she found a new body to inhabit. That’s when it all started falling apart.”
“And that’s when you tried to get me to come back.” I move to the nearest tree and slide my scarred palm over the glacial bark. I sense Morpheus’s closeness, but don’t turn around. I’m too ashamed. “I should’ve listened.”
“You had a bit of a learning curve.” There’s restraint in his voice. He’s angry. “What matters is what you do with what you learned.”
“But can Red’s magic fix this?”
He sighs, placing his hand alongside mine on the tree so his body and wings hedge me in. “It comes down to more than fixing at this point. It is a renewal. Creating the world anew is the only way to stop the infection, and only the power of those who’ve once experienced crown-magic have that ability. It takes lineage from both kingdoms working together. Ivory couldn’t do it alone. That’s why she froze everything, to keep the inhabitants from getting infected until you came and could help. Together, you’ll re-create the landscapes and then, once they’re pure, Ivory can safely release all the netherlings from her suspension spell. It might take every ounce of power Red has left, paired with yours and Ivory’s, to address a pandemic so widespread.”
My eyes tear up, because my magic is only as strong as I am, and Red’s is waning.
Morpheus strokes my hair where it hangs between my shoulder blades. “There is a silver lining, luv. You won’t have to cast her out. You’ll simply use her up. And then she shall be defeated at last. Gone forever.”
He doesn’t realize I’ve already used most of her up. In trying to keep myself alive, I’ve damned Wonderland to die. I never considered how closely entwined our fates might be.
I crumple, my palm skating along the tree’s frozen face as I plop to the ground.
“Alyssa?” Morpheus crouches beside me in an instant. He catches my chin and forces me to look at him. “Are you feeling anemic again?”
I struggle to breathe. It grates inside my chest, like inhaling angry bees. Blood creeps into my throat and gags me.
Morpheus’s jeweled markings flash through an anxious kaleidoscope of colors. He whips off his jacket, wraps me in it, and rolls up his shirt cuff. “Take off your boot so I can heal you.”
I clench my teeth against moving. The only way to manage the agonizing pain, to keep my heart from ripping any further, is to stay frozen like everything around me.
Morpheus gives up waiting, peels away the boot, and pushes up my legging’s hem. He traces the tattoo that he loves to tease me about, then presses our birthmarks together. A spark rushes between us, expanding like a flame through my veins. The power heals his neck and my arms, yet never quite reaches my heart.
During the euphoric rush of warmth, Morpheus’s gaze locks on mine and I’m bared to the bone. He sees what’s wrong.
“Oh, little plum.” His voice is a croak of despair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I clamp my eyes shut. “I’m sorry.” The apology turns into a wheeze.
“No,” he snarls. “You did try to tell me. In the mountain. And in Hart’s playroom. I was too bloody preoccupied to listen.”
No more guilt. He needs to be thinking of our home. “Find a way.” I gulp back another rush of blood and saliva. “Save Wonderland.”
Morpheus lifts me into his arms, cradling me gently. “That’s exactly what I intend to do.” Even though I can feel his warmth seeping through our clothes, I shiver.
Through half-lidded eyes, I watch blue lightning zap from his fingertips to the branches overhead. Using it like ropes, he tugs the canopy apart. His wings flap, stirring up snowy gusts. We launch out of the woodland and into the sky. Wonderland’s sleeping terrain passes beneath us at dizzying heights—white and glittering. Black fringe dots my peripheral vision.
My stomach kicks once, reminding me I’m alive. Then I close my eyes, and face the darkness waiting there.
The sound of chimes wakes me, tinkly and melodious. A flurry of sprites skitters along my body. My dreadlocks are gone and my hair fans my pillow in lustrous, white-blond waves. The sprites sweep makeup brushes and sparkling jeweled clips into place with as much precision and proficiency as an automatic car wash, leaving the scent of perfume and powder in their wake.
One sprite rushes by my nose and tickles the tip. She looks so much like Nikki, I do a double take. The itch she caused evolves to a sneeze, sending all the tiny fairies in a scatter like dandelion seeds.
They chitter in annoyance.
I rub my eyes, sit up, and take stock of my surroundings.
I’m sunken inside a large bed under downy quilts so white and fluffy they look like drifts of snow. The sprites gather up baskets from the white marble floor, four to a handle, and flitter through the half-opened door.
I blink. I’ve never been here, but I know this place from the sketches Morpheus once drew in the back of Mom’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland book. This is Ivory’s glass castle and I’m in an ornate chamber: glass walls frosted with ice to give me privacy from the other side, and crystal candleholders with no candles or wicks. Their silver flames float, like glowworms suspended in midair.
A crystallized chaise lounge sits in front of a fireplace where more silver flames crackle. Somehow, they give off heat and light without melting the ice on the walls. Mom and Dad sleep soundly atop the white cushion, her in his lap and their legs tangled together. His handsome profile is scruffy, his nose buried in her long, pinkish blond hair. The strands twitch, alive with magic. Her gauzy wings are folded behind her like a butterfly’s at rest.
