“He’s my father.” And he is dangerous from even a distance.
She instantly regretted saying it out loud and soon retired to her tent, her mind sloshing with conflicting emotion. Preparations for war continued at a frantic pace, and most nights Dinah fell into bed exhausted to the core. Her body ached, her mind was spent, and she wished she had insisted on bringing the heavenly grass mattress from Hu-Yuhar instead of this makeshift cot. Usually, a deep sleep took her immediately, but not this night, just a few days before their departure for the palace. Fall asleep! she commanded herself. You have much to do tomorrow; SLEEP! The more aggravated she became the less likely sleep was, and she found herself tossing needlessly on her cot. Something was keeping her awake. There was a voice trailing on the edge of the warm wind. Come to me. Dinah tossed and turned. Sleep was a white rabbit on quick feet, and no matter how much she tried, she could not follow it into the blissful dark.
Exasperated, Dinah sat up and pulled on her tunic and boots. The damp air of the Darklands was growing warmer each day as summer neared and she had no need for heavy wool or feather pants. She grabbed a handful of sugar cubes from an open bag and ducked out of her white tent. Her two guards were, of course, wide awake when she passed them outside.
“Your Highness?” Ki-ershan was the only Yurkei warrior who addressed her as his queen. Dinah had grown quite fond of him.
“I’m just going for a short walk through the tents.”
“You may not go alone.”
“I won’t. I’ll have Morte with me.”
The guard glanced up at the massive beast that had trotted over to greedily consume the sugar cubes. The bone spikes that protruded from his hooves were white as the moon in the flickering torch light.
“Are you sure, my Lady?”
Dinah touched his shoulder. “It’s just a walk, I promise. I’ll be back in half an hour.”
Normally the guards would not let her out of their sight unless she had a protector—Sir Gorrann or Wardley or Cheshire would do, but the truth of the situation was obvious: what could they do that Morte could not? Morte had killed a white bear, something that five of the best Yurkei warriors could not do. He would protect her. Dinah began strolling up and down the rows of tents, first the black Spade tents, which reeked strongly of men, ripe sweat, and ale. Loud snores filled the narrow grassy corridors between tents, and Dinah smiled at each resonating snort. She lightly touched the tent flaps as she walked by, lingering on how close she felt to these soldiers when they weren’t looking her up and down with doubt. These men, they would fight and die for her, even if they weren’t sure about her ability as queen. They believed in her, in her claim for the throne, but most importantly they believed she would acknowledge their rights. Whatever the reason, she would appreciate every sleepy sound that came from their filthy mouths. After the battle, there would be far fewer voices to hear.
A large field separated the Yurkei tents from the Spades. Morte galloped across it with abandon and waited impatiently for her on the other side. The Yurkei tents were vastly different from the Spade tents. The Spade tents were black and shaped in the typical triangular tent form with black flags flapping from their posts. The Yurkei tents were circular and white, utterly without color or flags. They hovered above the ground, buoyed up by thin wooden reeds. Dinah knew from her time in Hu-Yuhar that they were also much more spacious, comfortable, and portable. She wandered the line of Yurkei tents, up and down their endless aisles. There were no sounds here of sleep. The Yurkei were silent sleepers—there was nary a breath to be heard. The same held true for anytime they moved. The King and his vast resources and armies had failed to wipe them from Wonderland for one reason: they were stealthy warriors and could launch an attack without making a sound. Many villagers didn’t even know that their town was being sacked by the Yurkei until it was over and an arrow protruded from each of their chests. Compared to the Yurkei, the Spades were hulking and clumsy, with their only talent being the swing of a sword and the cruelty with which they inflicted injuries upon their enemies. No wonder they hate us so, Dinah thought, we are like ungainly giants, stomping across their land on big feet. She stopped to take a breath.
The night was still and damp, the stars clustered in one small corner of the sky. Just out of the corner of her vision, Dinah caught the slightest flickering of purple light. She blinked. It was still there, a flash in the dark, a blue glow where there shouldn’t be, pulsating from between two tents. Taking a few steps back, Dinah walked close to the line of white, round, cloudlike structures and peered between two that were situated abnormally close together. Between the two tents sat another, only this tent was almost perfectly round—a sphere with a wide bottom, balancing precariously on two long wooden poles. The shape would have been abnormal enough if it wasn’t for the strange, hazy lapis light that pushed out from the tent. A trail of bluish lavender smoke exited through a hole in the top of the tent, winding and curling in on itself. Morte gave a loud snort and began bucking unhappily. The ground shook when his massive hooves met it and she feared he would wake the entire army. Dinah reached for him.
“Shhh… shhhh… it’s okay.” Morte yanked back from her touch and galloped a few feet before he knelt to the ground. He stared at her accusingly for not following him. Dinah turned back to the tent, her curiosity piqued. This was the tent of Iu-Hora, the Caterpillar—the witch doctor who had traveled south with the Yurkei. Iu-Hora was the alchemist who created the incredible medicines that healed the Yurkei so quickly. He had potions and herbs for every ailment, several of which Dinah had used in her time at Hu-Yuhar. He was said to be many things—mad, a genius, an evil incarnation of the Yurkei’s power and myth. Some said he hatched from a cocoon, others that he was brought down to the tribe by cranes. Each Yurkei either loved or feared him, dependent upon whether or not his medicines had been used to save their lives. Either way, he was guarded fiercely from the rest of Wonderland by the Yurkei. It was said that he held the secrets to the world within the confines of his pipe.
Recently, Dinah had heard whispers that Mundoo had sent Iu-Hora south with Dinah so that his potions might be used to sway the opinions of the Spades if needed. It hadn’t been, but the idea that one could drug an army into doing one’s bidding was disturbing. Dinah blinked in the hypnotic light, unsure of how long she had been staring at the tent. It reminded her of a glistening, opulent blueberry, and she found herself drifting toward it, not unlike her reaction in the mushroom field. Stop it! she told herself. Be wise! She spun on her heels to leave when a soft voice beckoned from the darkness, sweet like honey and heavy like wool.
“Come to me. Dinah, my child, come in, come in! Let me know who you are.”
Morte gave a snort of unhappiness from across the field. The tent pulsed again with the light and Dinah found herself taking the few steps up the wooden platform and stepping into the tent. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the strange light, which she realized was coming from a large hookah pipe in the middle of the room. It was almost as tall as Dinah herself, blue light flickering out from the bottom of the pipe. The glass of the hookah was transparent and inside, silver-and-blue-veined leaves flickered and glowed. A thick smoke filled her eyes and lungs, and she instantly began to cough and choke as a voice filled the room.
“Take a deep breath, little Queen. Let it fill you. Only then will you be able to see and hear your future. Or answer the question who are you?”
Her eyes cloudy, Dinah was barely able to make out the outline of the massively fat Yurkei man who sat perched on a pile of bright pillows. His girth hung over the sides of the cushions, and only a yellow feather loin cloth stood between her and his complete nakedness. His skin was dark and shiny and, unlike most Yurkei, completely unmarked by white lines. On the side of the tent, hundreds of clay pots and hanging scales all clamored for space. The walls of the tent were adorned with hanging herbs, potted plants, and a style of finger painting that Dinah had never seen. Iu-Hora noticed her staring
with interest at his work.
“The Darklands have provided a most bountiful crop on which to experiment. I have already made three new potions since we’ve been here! One for rashes, one for aging eyes, and one for… well, you don’t need to know that. You’ll see.”
She looked over at him again, but was unable to make out his face. It kept shifting and changing, but that was just the hazy light, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it? She was very confused. Dinah felt the smoke make its way into her lungs, and a pleasant warm sensation began to stir under her rib cage. She was feeling very light, very free, very happy.
“Here. Take a drag.” Out of nowhere, a chubby hand extended the end of the hookah pipe to her. “Just one taste, Princess. Just one taste and hear what Iu-Hora has to tell you.”
Impulsively, Dinah took the pipe and inhaled deeply, before she could think about the decision. Then she heard Sir Gorrann’s words. “Impulsive, like your father.” But that man wasn’t her father. Or was he? She couldn’t remember, and didn’t seem to care. The smoke went down sweet and tingly, and she immediately felt like she was bursting with joy. Her head was clear, and her ears were open. She collapsed with a giggle onto a pile of pillows nearby.
“Did you get these from Wonderland? The Yurkei don’t have pillows like this.”
“They came to me how they came to me. You did not come here to ask questions about the pillows. You came here to ask much more difficult questions. And I am here to ask you… who are you?”
“I’m Dinah,” she answered. “And I do not know why I came here.”
“You are here because I brought you here. I have been waiting a long time to meet the Queen of Hearts.”
“I’m not Queen yet.”
He seemed to slither around her. “Ah, yes, war. The coming war, the great war. A war that will change the fate of Wonderland. Battle. Blood, smoke, and birds. A deck of cards, falling… falling. I see a hiding girl, a bloody sword, a fractured heart.”
His words made no sense to Dinah. She laughed and then felt suddenly somber. “Can you see the outcome? I hear the Caterpillar is a predictor of fortunes.”
For no clear reason, Dinah started laughing at the word fortune. It was so amusing, that word.
“I cannot see the outcome of the war, because it involves the fate of too many. My visions are blurry with so many souls to see. I see much death and unhappiness. I see a beautiful woman weeping at a window, a skilled arrow, blue stars in the sky. I see you riding a black devil, with great wings stretched behind you.”
“That would be Morte,” Dinah laughed until she wept. Then she looked around. How long had she been laughing? A minute? Three hours? Three weeks? The Caterpillar emerged from the hazy light, his features still unreadable, aside from his glowing blue eyes. It was all she could see. Dinah was suddenly terrified.
“What are you doing? Get back. Don’t touch me!” She thought the words, but for some reason could not make her mouth form the sounds. Slowly, his fingers reached inside her tunic, and then he spun her around. For a moment Dinah was afraid of what was happening, but then she felt the hot caress of his fingers against the scar on her shoulder.
“This was my work. A scar left on a queen by a chief. Something that she will never forget, but a sting that healed quickly.” Something was seeping through her skin from his fingers. She could feel it alternating hot and cold, tingling against her shoulder. It was inside of her, whatever it was, passing through her skin like water. Iu-Hora spun her back around and suddenly Dinah felt like she was floating with him, up and up, up through the tent into the stars that looked down on dead Charles. They were flying through the sky now, over the Darklands, over the fields; they flew up, up, and away until they hovered above Wonderland Palace. The Black Towers shimmered with wickedness below. She blinked. No. She wasn’t in the sky. Was she? She was in the tent, and his blurry face was inches from her own, his hands on her face. Iu-Hora’s voice changed as he leaned forward as if to kiss her, and she felt the thick smoke from his mouth wash over her face. All the smoke was suddenly sucked out of the circular tent and there was nothing but darkness, nothing but the heat of his forehead against hers and the sharp blue of his eyes. A low, terrible voice boomed out from the blackness. It belonged to Iu-Hora, but it didn’t sound like him. Dinah found herself very afraid, more afraid than she had ever been.
“Queen of Hearts, the daughter of two fathers, heed my words. To wear the crown upon your head, you must pierce the heart of one man and cut out the heart of the one you love most. Cat will not keep his promise to crane, and your head shall roll to a rest in the grass.”
Iu-Hora gave a silent gasp and suddenly blue smoke trailed out of his lips. His voice returned to normal and a silly giggle filled the tent as the light also returned to normal.
“Would you like more, my Queen?” Dinah pushed him backward into the pots and scales, which went crashing down under his massive weight. She wasn’t sure what was happening. Blue smoke was pouring out of her mouth, changing colors as she breathed. Red morphed into a fiery orange, which curled into a pale blue, then a misty gray. Coughing, she crawled toward the tent flap.
“Come back!” he cried, laughing. “I have so much more to show you!”
She was running now, away from the tent, smoke pouring from her eyes, ears, and throat. It steamed out of her skin. She stumbled and fell to the ground. His voice returned and whispered in her ear, although she was nowhere near him.
“Keep your temper, Queen of Hearts.”
Morte was beside her now, and she weakly pulled herself up to step upon his hoof, a bone shard giving her a thin cut on her ankle. She flopped over his back, lying face down across him as she continued to choke on the colored smoke pouring from her mouth and nose. Morte began running back to her tent. Dinah’s body began to shudder as if it had forgotten how to function. She was alternately freezing and stifling hot, and her mind was racing, making jumps of illogical means. Was she up or down? Where was she? After what seemed like years, Morte arrived in the Spades’ camp and came to a violent stop in front of her tent. Yur-Jee and Ki-ershan leapt to their feet and gathered a shaking Dinah from his back. They babbled frantically in Yurkei, their voices so loud to Dinah’s ears. She heard pieces of their conversation.
“Iu-Hora! No Wonderlander has ever been in his presence! What did he give her? Witch doctor! Pure evil!”
Wild hallucinations ran through Dinah’s mind, and she heard pieces of Iu-Hora’s words again: “Queen of Hearts, the daughter of two fathers… wear the crown upon your head… pierce the heart of one man… cut out the heart of the one you love most. Cat will not keep his promise to crane… head shall roll to a rest in the grass.”
As the guards babbled in rapid Yurkei, Dinah heard Wardley’s voice ringing above the commotion. “What the hell happened? Give her to me! Bring Cheshire NOW!”
Wardley cradled her against his chest, and she was aware that he was carrying her inside her tent. A thin trail of maroon smoke curled out of her lips and Dinah blew it lovingly at his face. She struggled to stay awake. Wardley leaned his face over hers. “You can close your eyes, Dinah. I’m here.” Sleepiness overtook her, and she was happy to fall asleep in his strong arms, the arms of the one she loved the most.
Chapter Seventeen
It took two days to completely get the smoke out of her system. She slept all of that first day, with the most vivid and bizarre dreams she had ever had. She would wake drenched in a sweat that pushed itself out of her skin in a swirl of vibrant colors, to find Cheshire and Wardley staring down at her, discussing things that she could barely understand.
“When will she be fully aware?”
“Hopefully the tea will draw out the hallucinatory effects of the smoke.”
“Did they find him?”
“The Yurkei are guarding him day and night. We will not strike. Actually, I think he might be of great use to us.”
“Has Mundoo been notified of what his witch doctor did to the Queen?”
�
��We sent two riders this morning with the message. They also carried our finalized plans for the battle. God help us if they are caught.”
“They won’t be. They’re Yurkei.”
Dinah would listen for what could have been hours or seconds before drifting back into her dazzling sleep. The next day, she woke to a cool cloth being pressed against her forehead.
“Your Highness?” She looked up, expecting to see Sir Gorrann, but instead found herself uncomfortably close to Cheshire’s face. “How are you feeling?”
Alarmed, Dinah pushed herself up faster than she should have and was rewarded with a bout of nausea. “Oh. Oh.” She allowed herself to sink back into the cot. “What happened?”
Cheshire resumed lightly patting her head with the cloth. “What do you remember?”
“I was out walking, because I couldn’t sleep… and I found Iu-Hora’s tent.” She frowned. “And then… then….” She should have remembered, but there was a gaping hole in her memory; it was puzzling and unnerving. She could see bits and pieces, but the knowledge of what had happened was missing. “I’m sorry…,” she sputtered. “I don’t really remember. There was smoke and light and….”
Cheshire made a disgusted sound, yet his face showed a certain delight and fascination. “The Yurkei witch doctor has more powers than Wonderland has ever bothered to fathom. I highly doubt that you wandered there entirely on your own accord. He’s been known to call those to him when he feels the need, whether by injury or trance. There is evil in that tent that might be of use to us yet. He has a mastery of alchemy that Wonderland has yet to discover.” He stroked Dinah’s head softly, attempting to soothe her. It made her uncomfortable. “We almost lost you to the fever. If you had died, Iu-Hora’s head would have been sucked down into the shadow ponds by now. You have caused a great stir, daughter.”
Queen of Hearts: Volume Two: The Wonder Page 19
