His face fell as he understood that they would not be turning back. “As Your Highness commands. Stay behind me, and whatever you do, for the love of Wonderland gods, DO NOT SPEAK. You can disguise your face and dress, but you speak like a royal and that cannot be undone.”
Wardley reached into his bag and clamped iron shackles over her wrists. They were heavier than Dinah had anticipated. “You look a mess,” he informed her. Dinah had been purposely careless as she walked and crawled through the tunnels. Her dress was caked with mud. She had soot from the flame smeared across her face and she had let her clean hair run against the tunnel wall. She looked like a commoner, more than a commoner, a criminal. They hadn’t been alone down in the tunnels—Wardley had identified rat and mongoose droppings, as well as a few more with which he wasn’t familiar.
Dinah gave a shudder in the cold, wet air. “I’m ready.”
Wardley drew his eyes to her face and Dinah saw a fear that matched her own. “We stay together, no matter what happens. You brought your crown?”
Dinah nodded and patted her bag. “Just in case things go wrong.” She wrapped her freezing hand around his. The chains gave a slight jangle.
“Here we go,” said Wardley. He gave a hard grunt, and the chain mail on his fist broke the aged lock on the door. It fell to the ground with a loud clang. Together they took a deep breath and stepped inside.
The temperature change was immediate and severe. Whereas before they had been freezing, Dinah was soon covered in sweat. The air was thick, humid, and filthy. Pillars of black smoke rose up from below them. They appeared to be in a giant cocoon—a spiraling black tower, wider at the bottom and consistently narrowing toward the top. They were looking out across a wide chasm filled with heavy, dangling chains that twisted down from the cone’s point. On either side of them stretched endless cells embedded in the circumference of the tower, one after another, smaller and smaller the higher they went. The smell was inhumane, and Dinah gave a loud retch, unable to control herself, followed by another and another. Urine, sweat, human waste, and blood, all mingled together in the thick air.
Wardley bent over her. “Are you going to be alright?”
“I’m your prisoner!” Dinah quietly reminded him in between heaves.
Wardley stood up. “Right. C’mon then.” He gave a yank of her chain and Dinah followed along behind him as they circled their way higher and higher into the tower. High-pitched screams of pain echoed up from below, and Dinah fought the urge to clap her hands over her ears. Wardley yanked her chains so that she walked closer beside him.
“They torture prisoners on the floor of the tower, but the smallest cells are at the top. The worst criminals are kept in the top cells, so that after their torture sessions, they have to crawl back up the spiral until they can rest.” He shook his head. “The crawl is its own form of torture.”
Dinah’s eyes rested with pity upon an old man in a cell they passed, sitting on the floor in his own waste, licking the black slimy wall. He turned as they walked by. Dinah gave him a sad smile from under her hood. Without warning, the man lunged at her from inside the cell, and managed to grab the edge of her cloak. He pulled her violently against the bars, shaking her back and forth as he reached out to grope her.
“The hearts, the hearts, I love my hearts!”
Dinah felt his rotten breath splash across her face, and she fought another rising wave of nausea. Wardley drew his sword and raised it above the man’s gnarled hand. “You will let go of her or you will lose a limb today.”
The prisoner laughed in Dinah’s face. “Lose a limb, lose a limb, we all will lose our limbs and heads today. . . .”
“Quizzer, let that prisoner go!” boomed a very loud voice from behind them. The man let go of Dinah with a final shake of his head and sunk back into his celled cave, hissing, “I’ll be watching you, my dark-eyed Queen, yes I will!”
Dinah stepped back in shock. They turned. A fat man, larger than even her father, waddled up before them. His Club uniform—a thin white tunic overlaid with a gray breastplate and gray wool cape held in place by a club clasp—stretched out to fit his massive girth. Over his breastplate, the Club symbol was encompassed by a much larger skull. She had seen this symbol in a book once or twice; this man was a torturer. Dinah looked at the ground. She felt a slight twitch of fear ripple up Wardley’s hand and through her chains.
“Thank you for your aid. I’m to take this filthy wench to the Women’s Tower, but we must have taken a wrong turn. I apologize.”
A man’s shrill scream circled up from below, followed by pleading whimpers. A tear leaked from Dinah’s eye, cutting a clean line through the dirt on her face. Without warning, the man reached out and struck her hard across the face. The blow took Dinah’s breath away and she fell to the ground. Wardley looked stunned, unsure what to do.
“Who are you to have sympathy for that man? He is no longer a man. Once you enter the Black Towers, you become a part of them. You belong to the towers and to the Club Cards. You are the dirt under our feet, the waste in our privy, a slave to the tree. Do not weep for that man, for he deserves what he is getting. His screams say that he is thankful for the King’s justice, thankful to repay his debt to Wonderland. Soon your screams will say the same thing.”
Dinah stared at the ground.
“Where did you say you were taking her, boy?”
“To the Women’s Tower. I’m new. I was just transferred here from the Heart Cards.”
The man gave a spiteful sniff and spat on the ground. “You look like a Heart Card with that pretty face. Be glad you left. They are a bunch of weak, ignorant bastards who love to boast that they protect the King. Instead their lives are spent guarding doorways to empty chambers and watching the royal family count their jewels.”
On the floor, Dinah wiped the blood from her mouth and thought about the ring hidden in her cloak pocket. Counting, indeed.
“Well, at least you have joined a real deck of Cards here.” He clapped Wardley on the back. “You’re young and strong. You’ll do well here, if you learn to stomach the smell and the screams. I’m Yoous, the head torturer of this tower.”
A bellow, a sound of pure agony, floated up from below. The Club guard leaned back and closed his eyes. “Ah. I revel in the screams. That sound means that justice has been accepted, and that Wonderland is back on its way toward balance and harmony. Learn to love the screams, boy.”
Wardley nodded his pale face. Dinah kept her head tilted toward the floor. The prisoner who had so frightened her leered out at her from his cell, licking his lips. “My Queen. . . .”
“So, where do I take this one, this . . . detriment to society?” Wardley yanked her chains roughly.
The Club gave a loud guffaw. “You must be new. Did Erinsten send you?”
Wardley raised his lip in a sneer. “Does Erinsten do anything?”
The man gave a laugh and stroked his long mustache. “This is most certainly true. He does not. Well, he should have told you that there is no Women’s Tower. All prisoners are housed according to their crime, not their sex. This is the murderers’ hive.”
The Club began to circle Dinah. “Are you a murderer, my little blackberry tart? Who did you kill? Your lover? Your children?” He pushed her hood back and ran a hand down her thick black braid. “Shiny hair for such a commoner. Were you a whore perhaps? One of the King’s whores?”
Wardley pressed a finger against his forehead and rubbed, as if he was remembering something. “Erinsten said that she is to be housed with a Feena Boker, yes, I think that’s the name. Or Fina?”
The man stepped back from Dinah with caution. “Faina Baker?”
Wardley snapped his fingers. “Oh yes, that’s it, Faina.”
“Faina Baker is in here for high treason. She is in the top cell of the Seventh Tower.” He peered at Dinah. “That makes you worse than any man in this tower. I’ll keep my distance.” He leaned forward and trailed his fingers down Dinah’s cheek. “What the
y do in that tower is worse than death, worse than any torture we do here. I pity you, my pretty.”
Wardley gave Dinah a yank and they started to make their way back down the spiral.
“I wouldn’t go that way if I were you. We just gutted a man down there, and you don’t want to get blood all over your boots. Take the Iron Web. You better get used to it. Clubs use the web, otherwise we never see the sun.”
Yoous picked at his teeth with his huge black fingers. Wardley let out a grunt and began walking back up the spiral, dragging Dinah behind him.
“You’re going the wrong way. Oh gods, here; take this door.” He walked between two cells, and a short and narrow hallway opened up before them. It led to a thin metal door.
“No locks?” asked Wardley in disbelief.
Yoous gave a laugh. “You think a prisoner would try to escape the Black Towers? Knowing that there is more torture to come when they get caught? No, no one tries to escape. Besides, they would just escape to the Iron Web, where there are always dozens of Cards going about their day. That or fall to their death. They have no dream of escape. Their minds are worn down by the towers themselves.” He ran his hand across the wall, black and thick, and covered with a sticky sap. “Do you know the legend of the Black Towers, son?”
Wardley did, and so did Dinah, but he just shook his head. Yoous took a seat on a decrepit bench, his legs spread wide in Dinah’s direction. She looked away.
“They say the towers were here before any of us, before Wonderland proper, even before the Yurkei tribes arrived. They were always here, huge black roots, twisted into a spiral, exactly seven of them. When the Yurkei came upon this land, they worshipped the towers and built their homes around them. Time marched on, and the towers grew thicker and thicker, until they were a massive black tree, stronger than steel, immune to fire and axe. We carve the doors out where there are gaps in the roots. The Yurkei called them ‘Meis’ Yur,’ meaning ‘The Old Root.’ They worshipped them, but when the first Wonderlanders arrived, they saw the truth—that the Black Towers were evil. There was a sinister presence about them—they made you sick, made you crazy, made you crave touching their sap.
“You know the rest. Eventually Wonderlanders pushed the Yurkei back into the mountains where they belonged and built Wonderland Palace and its townships. The Black Towers stand as a warning to Wonderlanders—break the law, and enter the Towers. Centuries came and went, and the first set of Club Cards built the Iron Web.”
“But if the wood cannot be penetrated—” Wardley began.
“Aye. It cannot be. The iron walkways are completely self-suspended. They were designed by Jackrey, the best architect that Wonderland has ever seen. All the walkways are connected, but none actually touch the towers. It’s how the Clubs get from one tower to the next, from top to bottom. Unless we are inside, in which case, we are probably there for other—” He looked at Dinah. She kept her eyes on the floor. “—Purposes.”
“And you never worry about someone escaping?”
Yoous stood and stretched. “You feel good since you’ve been here boy?”
Wardley gave a defeated shrug. “I guess not, no. I feel. . . .” Dinah could see him searching for the word. He cleared his throat, “unsteady.”
“That’s the towers. It’s inside her roots, some sort of drug that clouds the senses and confuses the mind. Most of the prisoners here are insane, but they didn’t come in that way. The roots make sure of it.” He rose. “I shouldn’t speak anymore. This prisoner needs reminding about manners.”
He began unlocking Quizzer’s cell door. The tiny man gave a howl and scuttled to the back of the cell, his fingers clawing his black cell wall. It dripped with slimy black moisture. “Give me the tree for the Queen, give her to me!” he howled.
Yoous slapped him down to the floor with little effort. “I’m thinking a finger or two will remind you not to touch other prisoners.”
Dinah gave a shudder and without thinking, turned into Wardley’s shoulder. He was smarter, and shoved her away.
“Don’t touch me!” he barked.
Yoous pointed at Dinah. “Don’t feel sorry for him. In a week’s time you will envy him. The High Treason Tower houses the worst. Losing a few fingers will be nothing compared to what’s in store for you. Now go, I need to take him down.” He yanked Quizzer to his feet. “WALK!” he screamed.
Wardley didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled Dinah’s chain toward the door. “Er, thank you!” he called, unable to hide his good manners. All he heard in reply was a bloodcurdling scream.
Stepping outside the Black Towers was the closest thing to heaven Dinah had ever experienced. The air was crisp and cool on her face, and she could breathe without fear of retching. There was about a two-foot gap between the doorway and the iron walkway. Wardley helped her to step over the space. That was good, thought Dinah, since she surely would fall to her death without his steady arms. Walking upon the Iron Web was just as incredible and terrifying as she had imagined from her bedroom balcony all these years. Curling iron arched away from the tower, leaping and twisting to several different doors on each tower. The walkways went up and down the towers in gently sloping spirals that suddenly shot into open air before returning down to the ground. They never touched them, but soared up and between the towers, a walkway into the sky. Dinah vaguely remembered her childhood lessons about the Iron Web—it was made of one solid piece of iron, balanced perfectly around the towers.
If Dinah squinted, she could see all the way to the first tower. From here she could see that the Iron Web was covered with Clubs in their gray-and-white uniforms, going about their business. They looked like insects, scurrying down and around, moving without fear hundreds of feet in the air. Some carried paperwork, others steaming piles of unappetizing food or chamber pots. All had the same gloomy, focused looks on their faces. Dinah and Wardley watched with fascination at the ease at which they navigated the maze-like twists of the web.
“Come on. We’ve stood here too long. We’re going to attract attention.” Wardley began to lead her carefully down from the tower door. “Hurry,” he said with finality.
Walking as quickly as they could while attached by chain, they stepped out onto a thin iron walkway that arched between all the towers. The ground grew farther and farther away as they followed the twisty path out into the open air between the great black towers, humming like hives in the unflinching winter sun. They climbed in silence. Several Clubs gave them strange looks as they passed. Wardley dripped with a nervous sweat.
Being outside of the towers gave Dinah a chance to truly look at them. The black bark was shiny on the surface; it glimmered in the sunlight. Tiny striations marked each strip as it ascended into the sky, and the outline of thickly tangled roots was barely visible. I can see why the Yurkei would worship these, she thought. They are indeed “a colossal and terrible wonder.” She also had a fantastic view of Wonderland Castle from the walkway and paused to look for her apartments.
“We’re almost there,” breathed Wardley, jerking her back to reality. “We find Faina Baker, get our answers, and then we LEAVE. I’m starting to feel bad about this.”
Dinah attempted a smile. “You always felt bad about this.”
“Don’t smile” he snapped. “I’m not going to end up in here because you can’t keep a smile off your silly face.”
They made their way through the twisted iron until they arrived at the Seventh Tower. They both stopped outside the door: a wide hole in the roots that someone had fitted with steel.
“Take your last breath of clean air,” Dinah whispered.
They inhaled deeply and Wardley pushed the door open. The Seventh Tower did not smell as strong as the Murderers’ Tower, and Dinah was grateful for that. However, there was a completely different feel in this dark spiral—it felt sinister, as if they had stepped into the very depths of evil. The other tower had been filled with screams and blood, whereas this one was completely silent. There was malice in the air
, a hopelessness that permeated each breath. They had entered the tower closer to the bottom this time, and once their eyes adjusted to the light, Dinah quickly became aware of a hulking shadow standing behind them. She shrunk behind Wardley as the shadow stepped forward.
“What business have you in the Treason Tower?” he asked, without a hint of humor or pleasantry. Dinah suddenly missed Yoous.
Wardley yanked Dinah forward. “We were sent here by Yoous at the Murderers’ Tower. We have business with the traitor Faina Baker. My prisoner is here to extract information from her.”
The Card stepped into the light. His gray-and-white Club uniform was pristine and clean, a far cry from Yoous’s blackened hands and clothing. This guard wore the pointed helmet of the Clubs, its black points hovering like spikes above his cheeks. There was a monstrous sword strapped to his back. Wardley, lean and muscular, suddenly looked like a scrawny child in his massive shadow.
The Club gave a nod. “You are not the first person to try and extract information from Ms. Baker. There was another one here earlier this week, slimy fellow.”
Wardley cleared his throat. “Yes. That was cleared through Erinsten previously.”
The man gave a grunt and began walking toward the middle of the spiral. He spun around. “You coming? I don’t have all day to ferry around traitors and amateur Cards who don’t know their manners.”
Wardley and Dinah followed silently. Suspended from the middle of the top spire was a platform, made of the same twisted iron as the Iron Web. There was no enclosure on any of the sides so it was completely flat, aside from some gears and a lever sticking out from the middle. Wardley held fast to Dinah’s chains as they jumped onto the platform. It swung in the open air and Dinah clutched Wardley’s shoulder to avoid pitching off into the void.
“You seem close to that prisoner,” remarked the guard. “Are you taking your pleasure on the side? Nothing wrong with that. There are a few gals in the Thieving Tower I visit weekly. At first they protested, but now they enjoy it. Takes their minds off the torture, not that it’s so bad in that tower. Just a finger or toe now and then. But they don’t need fingers or toes to spread their legs, do they?”
Queen of Hearts (The Crown) Page 10
