Book Read Free

The Looking-Glass Curse: The Complete Series

Page 31

by Eva Chase


  “I’m assisting Lyssa in this venture,” Theo put in. “I believe it’s the best chance we have to overcome the Queen’s rule completely.”

  “But that doesn’t solve any of our problems today, does it?” a rough voice said. A man with a horse-like mane, coarse and strung through with gray, bowed his head where his seat was approaching Theo. “Tomorrow the Queen is going to take more Wonderlanders for her prison. Can you say you’ll have this plan ready to see through before her prison is full and she takes all those people to the chopping block?”

  “Every day we stand back, the Clubbers will turn more against us,” the ferret-eyed woman said. “How many of them might have looked the other way before but could point the finger at us now?”

  Theo exhaled. “I won’t lie to you. The results are still uncertain, and it will take time for us to discover how far we can take them. Which is why we are meeting here today—so we can decide together how we go forward.”

  A momentary hush fell over the table, leaving behind only the whir of the stools and the clink as someone set down a teacup.

  “Could we bring more Clubbers over to our side now?” I asked tentatively. “They have to see how horrible the Queen is being, that she’s the villain here. If all of the people who show up at Caterpillar’s Club every night march on the palace, we’d have a chance.”

  “We’ve tried to inspire them to the cause,” the man beside me said. “As more heads have rolled, fewer new ones have been swayed to our side. It’s not that they don’t see who the villain is, it’s that they dislike the consequences of standing up to her.”

  The Clubbers needed a sign—like an artifact. Like magic. But we needed to give them that now.

  “I’ll go,” the gray-haired man said. He set his gnarled hands on the tabletop, letting them slide when the stools shifted again. “I’ll turn myself in to the palace in exchange for that girl. We can end this ridiculous challenge right now.”

  The ferret-eyed woman stared at him. “Smith…”

  “I’ve only ever contributed bodily strength to the rebellion,” Smith said, his voice weary but firm. “And my supply of that is dwindling. I’ve had a life longer than so many who’ve fallen to the Hearts’ blades. We can prove that we won’t let innocents die in our place and stop this horrible scheme of hers in its tracks before she can demand more than one of us. That will buy us time. It may convince a few of the Clubbers to find a little courage in themselves.”

  Every particle in my body balked at the idea of this man giving himself over to be killed. “This group is so small already,” I said. “Can we really afford to lose anyone?”

  He gave me a pained smile that he then turned on the rest of his comrades. “If we wait even until tomorrow, she’ll demand more of us as a ‘fair’ trade. I’ve seen this moment on the horizon for years. I didn’t know it would come this way, but at least it’ll serve Wonderland more than if I was simply caught by a guard over the wrong comment overheard.”

  There had to be a better answer than that… didn’t there? My gaze darted over the faces around me, but an air of resignation had come over the gathering. Theo left his spot at the head of the table to grip Smith’s shoulder.

  “If that is the choice you wish to make,” he said, “it is yours to make. We’ll make sure you’re remembered often and well.”

  Even he couldn’t see a way around this? I opened my mouth, wanting to protest more, but no real arguments came to me.

  Who was I to argue anyway? The actual Spades were accepting this solution as if there was nothing so strange about it. Suddenly I could see why Hatter might have had qualms about the group’s guiding philosophy.

  They could be cutthroat in their own way when they wanted to be. They were willing to give up a life if it seemed to benefit more people than it hurt.

  Doria had said there was no way the Spades could have killed the young prince, but watching this scene play out, I wasn’t so sure she was right. If they were willing to send one of their friends to the slaughter, why would they balk at killing one of the Queen’s children?

  Smith stood up, and the rest of the Spades slid off their stools to gather around him, offering fond words and grateful gestures. I’d just gotten up awkwardly, not sure whether I had any place joining in, when a man with a lizard’s head spun around where he’d been peering past a gap in the window’s papering.

  “There’s a guard heading toward the building. Scatter!”

  At those words, the group broke apart in an instant, everyone rushing toward the stairwell. My heartbeat stuttered as I caught up with Doria. Theo reached us a second later, his hand coming to rest on my back, his expression tense.

  “The Tower is closer than Hatter’s house,” he said. “Come with me.”

  He motioned to the twins too. All of us hustled down the stairs and into the alley behind the shop.

  The other Spades scattered in various directions, slowing their pace and taking on a casual demeanor as they spread out. Theo led the four of us through a gap between two buildings so narrow I had to walk sideways to fit, across the street to another alley, and then out onto the cobblestone road just a short jog from the silver spire the White Knight called home.

  He knew his way around the city like Chess did. I guessed that shouldn’t surprise me. The thought of Chess made me glance around, but the other man hadn’t come with us.

  Chess should be safe. He could simply blink out of view if a guard came too close.

  Somber silence filled the elevator shaft as it propelled us up to the twenty-seventh floor. When we reached Theo’s level with its doors on every side, Doria rubbed her hand over her face and glanced at the twins.

  “Since we’re here anyway… It’s been a long time since I got to challenge you guys in the games room. Who’s up for blowing off some steam?”

  “Sounds extremely satisfying to me,” the more smiley twin said. His brother didn’t look as enthusiastic, but he glanced at Theo as if for permission.

  “Be my guest,” Theo said. “You are my guests for the moment. I’ll rouse you when it’s safe to leave.”

  Doria stopped long enough to inform me, “I’ll be fine. The worst thing that’ll happen is the evil eye from these guys when I whoop their asses.” Then she pushed open the silver door as if she knew exactly where she was going. The twins tagged along behind her, one of them laughing as he challenged her prediction of whose ass would be whooped.

  Theo eased open the gold door. It opened into the hallway outside his office. I glanced around, disoriented—I’d gotten into the habit of choosing the bronze door, and it always took me right into the office-slash-workroom—and Theo’s arm came back around me.

  “You look like you need to sit down,” he said gently.

  I let him usher me into the lounge room we’d relaxed in before. My spine stayed stiff as I sat down on one of the cozy sofas. Theo sat at the other end, studying me.

  “I’m sorry you had to hear some of those things,” he said. “No one there would really try to send you off to the Queen. They’re just frustrated, hardly thinking straight. We barely had a few hours to feel we’d accomplished anything before she found a new way to box us in.”

  Could he really say with so much certainty that they hadn’t meant it? He might never consider lowering himself to those tactics, but I’d felt the hostility in that room, even if it’d been brief. I had the urge to ask him about the prince’s murder and the responsibility the Spades shrugged off, but showing I doubted him felt like an insult. He’d indicated before that he didn’t believe the Spades had anything to do with that death either.

  It didn’t matter anyway. By all accounts and all evidence, the Queen had been awful before her son died, and no one death could justify the torture she’d put all of Wonderland through.

  “I know,” I said. “Is there really nothing else we can do except let Smith get himself killed?”

  Theo’s mouth twisted. He didn’t need to tell me how much he hated the solution he�
��d accepted. He would never have agreed to killing anyone in retribution, especially a kid.

  “Sometimes the best we can do is make a small concession to prevent a larger tragedy,” he said. “I don’t like it, and if no one had offered themselves, I’d have gambled on us retrieving the artifacts in time—on them making enough of a difference. But I won’t stop someone willing.”

  A lump rose in my throat. I didn’t want to die, but the situation we were in was a lot more my fault than Smith’s.

  “I feel so useless,” I said. “The Queen is angry about me, and I’m not doing anything to change that.”

  “You’re doing everything you can,” Theo said. “What did you find out from Hatter?”

  “He’s gone to talk to Carpenter,” I said. “He isn’t sure whether he’ll know anything—or tell Hatter anything—though.”

  “But he might.” Theo eased forward so that his knees rested against mine and took my hand. “I know Hatter. He wouldn’t go trekking across the land on too slim a chance. So you wait, and when he comes back, then you can move forward.”

  “What if it’s still not enough?”

  “You’ve already done more than anyone in Wonderland has managed to accomplish in nearly fifty years,” he said. “Don’t you dare beat yourself up for not having even more answers than the rest of us do.”

  So much passion rang through those words that most of my doubts disintegrated. I was doing it again—feeling like I had to take on the responsibilities for everyone around me. For an entire country, now, instead of just my family. I dragged in my breath and managed a smile. “Okay. I’ll work on that.”

  Theo’s thumb traced a line across the back of my hand. The warm contact brought back the memories of all the even more enjoyable ways he’d touched me just a few days ago. But his gaze was still fixed on my face, his eyes dark with concern. “I know you have plenty of other reasons to be unsettled. What do you need right now, Lyssa?”

  With him touching me like that, looking at me with so much determination and affection, the answer rose straight from the core of me.

  “I need you,” I said.

  Something shifted in Theo’s eyes, almost as if I’d surprised him. Then he moved forward, his hand sliding to my waist, the other rising to tease along my jaw. When his mouth finally met mine, I was starving for him.

  I could have this. For now, while I waited to find out what else I could give, I’d have whatever he would give me.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Hatter

  I smelled Carpenter’s workplace before I saw it. A ring of tall craggy rocks sheltered the Oyster Cove, but the mingling odors of salt, seaweed, and raw flesh drifted along the paved path that led out there. I breathed through my mouth, more and more shallowly the closer I got.

  If it hadn’t been for the smell, the cove would have looked appealing enough at a glance. The blue-gray water lapped the shore along its crescent of pink sand. In the distance, across the larger endless expanse of sea, a few scattered clouds were turning purple as the sun sank toward the horizon. The wind made a cheerful whistling sound as it passed through the gaps in the rocks.

  All perfectly pleasant until you noticed the wooden cart pulled off to the side with a headless body lying prone within it.

  Carpenter was down at the edge of the water next to a dimpled metal track that stretched from halfway up the beach to deep within the water. He’d put on more bulk since I’d last seen him, years ago, but his legs were still just as short. His rounded gut pressed into his knees as he crouched down. I didn’t know how he could bear to eat at all, let alone in excess, carrying the memories of his time here.

  Another form moved in the water. Walrus surfaced, his coarse gray skin dotted with liver marks, the wet collar of his shirt clinging to his wide neck.

  “This one’s ready!” he announced in his guttural voice. “Sending ‘im up.”

  He gave a heave, and the water rippled as a marble platform surged along the track to the shore. Carpenter spread his meaty hands to catch the end. A greenish-black casing, which in my humble opinion more closely resembled an immense seedpod than an oyster’s shell, sprawled across the entire length of the platform, water trickling off its ridged surface. Carpenter hauled the platform all the way up the sand and then stepped around to the side.

  I cleared my throat, walking out of the shade by the ring of rock. “Carpenter. I heard I’d find you out here this afternoon.”

  Carpenter’s egg-shaped head came up. He still had the same short brown beard, grizzled now with flecks of silver. His hazy blue eyes, like a pale reflection of the water, widened at the sight of me. The grin that crossed his face looked more amused than anything. That seemed to bode well for this visit.

  “Hatter!” he said. “It’s been a long time. What in the lands brings you all the way out here, far from your city comforts?”

  The ribbing note in that question wasn’t entirely friendly. A reminder to keep my guard well up, even if I saw reason for optimism.

  “I realized what a long time it had been,” I said. “And I thought you might be missing some of those comforts. When was the last time you got your hands on one of Baker’s mince pies?” I held up the box tied with cloth that I’d picked up from the bakery before heading out here.

  Carpenter’s face brightened just as I’d hoped it would. When we’d been friends, I’d seen him down as many as five of those pies in the course of a meal. It was both a gesture of good will and a callback to the past times I wanted to get him talking about.

  “Let me finish up here,” he said. “I’ve got an oyster to hatch and another to plant. Do you want to help?”

  The question felt like a test. I didn’t want to, in the strongest possible terms, but I needed to win points with my former comrade, not lose them.

  “Why not?” I said, as if I found nothing about his work unsettling. I set down the boxed pie and then my suit jacket on top of it, rolled up my sleeves, and forced myself to walk right up to the pod-shell-thing across from him.

  “Grip it right here,” Carpenter said, tracing a seam that ran along the ridge at the top of the casing. He dug his fingers into that narrow gap. I followed suit farther down, restraining a cringe at the cool slimy texture. “Now pull!”

  He yanked the one side of the casing toward him, and I tugged on the other side at the same time. The thing split down the middle with a sputter of gas and a thicker stench like fermented seaweed. I dodged to the side as it crumpled by my feet.

  A pale body with pearly skin lay in the slick remains of the casing: a young man, black-haired and slim, his eyes closed. Carpenter knelt down.

  “It always takes the pearl-heads a while to come to,” he said casually, and smacked the man’s cheek a few times with the back of his hand.

  The man’s head listed to the side. Then his eyes fluttered open. He stared vaguely forward with a few slow blinks. His body twitched, and he turned to look at me. His dazed expression made my stomach clench. Whoever this man had been before, nothing remained of him now except a blank slate ready to receive orders.

  “You, pay attention over here,” Carpenter said with a loud clap. “I’m your boss until you get to the palace. Listen up.”

  The pearl-head’s face swiveled toward him. Carpenter motioned him up, and the man pulled himself off the casing onto wobbly legs. Carpenter tossed him a burlap tunic. “Put that on. Then get yourself into the cart and sit down. The palace folks will give you a proper uniform when they decide what to do with you.”

  As the man absently pulled on the tunic, Carpenter strode to the cart where the headless body was lying. “Give me a hand?” he said to me.

  My stomach balled tighter as I joined him. I could guess from the body’s overall shape and the timing that I was looking at the part of Sally that the Queen hadn’t put on display.

  It wouldn’t be her when Carpenter and Walrus were finished with her, just a dull-minded drone. The woman I’d bantered with before I’d left the Spades, who’d
charged into the palace gardens last night ready to take on every Heart, had already left this body. The head that regrew in the watery chamber wouldn’t be more than a facsimile of her looks, nothing of her spirit.

  That knowledge didn’t make me feel any less sick about grasping her shoulders to carry her with Carpenter to the platform.

  He tucked the folds of the deflated casing around her until her body was completely hidden. Then he nudged the platform back into the sea. Walrus shifted into place to receive the casing and fix it to the equipment beneath the surface.

  A bit of grit had stuck to my hands from Sally’s body. I’d have given anything to wash them, but the cove’s water hardly seemed any cleaner. At least I’d won those points with Carpenter. He brushed his own hands together and gave me a warm smile.

  “Let’s have that tart,” he said.

  “How long does the new head take to grow?” I asked as we headed to the back of the beach by the rocks, pretending an approving interest in his work.

  “Depends on the body,” Carpenter said. “If it’s a weak one, or too young or too old, we don’t bother at all. With the decent ones, it could be a week, maybe two, or anywhere in between. We’ve usually got a few down there at any given time. Can’t always replace ‘em as quickly as she removes ‘em.”

  He snapped his mouth shut after that last word and glanced toward the water as if checking to see if Walrus might have heard that almost-criticism of the Queen. His co-worker hadn’t yet resurfaced. Carpenter let out a chuckle as if it’d been a joke all in good fun. As if even jokes couldn’t cost you your head these days.

  The palace needed servants, and the Queen had the disturbing habit of running through them—and running them through—a lot more quickly than their natural lifespan should have been. Waste not, want not. Even the pearl-heads could be re-pearled if their bodies had held up, from what I’d heard.

  “I’m glad to see you’re well,” I said carefully. I’d have had to take care with this subject even if I had really been here as a friend. “I have to admit one of the reasons I thought to come out here was, ah, concerns prompted by recent events. No ground feels completely secure when the atmosphere is constantly shifting, does it?”

 

‹ Prev