Blood of Wonderland (Queen of Hearts Saga #2)(28)


“And a mind like mud,” replied Dinah, sharper than she intended. “She does nothing that my father does not tell her to do. Vittiore could not rule over an anthill.”

“Interesting. But your father, he is a clever man, no?”

Dinah thought of how her father had beheaded Faina Baker right in front of her just to teach her to not put her nose where it didn’t belong. “He is intelligent, yes. He is a skilled fighter, but he is also brutal and unforgiving and a drunk. It has made him slow in recent years. He is full of hatred, for reasons I do not understand. The cleverest man in the palace is Cheshire. Most of the decisions my father makes come from him.” In her mind’s eye, Dinah saw Charles’s tiny body crumpled under a starry sky. Her voice rose. “I have nothing but hatred for the king. I would gladly take his life. I attempted to in the Twisted Wood until the Spade intervened.”

“So I have heard.” Mundoo stared at her, his unflinching blue eyes piercing her tingling bones. “I find you very interesting, Dinah, exiled Princess of Wonderland. Stories of your escape from the palace have echoed through this land, even here in Hu-Yuhar, our home. You are called many things: the Queen of Death, the Red Queen, the Rebel Queen, Rider of the Black Devil. Some even say you are a ghost or an omen of the future. . . .”

“I am no one,” replied Dinah. “I am simply Dinah, an exile who stumbled into your mushroom fields by accident.”

Mundoo raised his eyebrow. “By accident? Yes, that is interesting. No one stumbles into our sacred burial ground by accident. No. Your Spade led you there, though his reasons are not yet clear.”

“No, we were . . . ” Dinah found the words dying on her tongue, and the twinge in her heart told her that Mundoo was right. The Spade had led her there. Had she known it the whole time, exchanging her own security for the comfort of a friend? She had thought they were simply fleeing the king, perhaps heading over the Yurkei Mountains to the Other Worlds. “I trusted him,” she gasped, her throat dry and raspy.

Mundoo stood and handed her a small wooden bowl filled with water. “Drink. I insist. It pains me to hear your voice.”

Dinah, feeling humbled, gulped the water noisily.

“You should know not to trust anyone when you possess so much power.”

“I do not possess power,” she answered, wiping her mouth. “I possess a sword, a bag full of filthy clothing, the pelt of a white bear, and a horse.”

“Ah, your horse.” Mundoo untied a piece of fabric that was lashed to his glorious throne and the roof of the tent pulled back, like an egg with its shell removed. The sky opened up above them, and the space was filled with the whirling cold wind that had so easily tossed the ladder. Dinah barely had time to duck before a giant white crane flapped into the tent, its huge wings sending bursts of air across her face. The crane landed on the throne and gave a loud squawk at Dinah. Mundoo continued, seemingly oblivious to the dangerous-looking bird. “Morte will be put to death soon enough. A price must be paid for all the blood he has taken from this tribe. Believe that I will find no joy in killing a Hornhoov. They are rare and exquisite creatures, and I have never seen one as large as him. We will study him first.”

“He hasn’t done anything.” Dinah knew it was untrue as soon as the words passed over her tongue.

“No? With my own eyes, I saw him crush three of my best warriors without even a backward glance—at least, not until he came back to taste their flesh.” Dinah remembered the bear, Morte’s muzzle covered with the smear of blood, and the way her stomach had turned. “The beast will die. And then we shall decide what to do with his rider. I have much to think about. My spies have given me reason to believe that your father is preparing to launch a large assault on my tribe, perhaps bringing the fight here, to Hu-Yuhar, within a few months’ time.”

“But your city seems impregnable. It is surrounded by mountains on every side.”

Mundoo smiled as the crane rested its head on his knee. “So one would think, but I do not underestimate your father. We have our weaknesses, just like any city. But that is for me to consider. For now, you will stay here as our guest. You will attend our feasts and ceremonies, and I would encourage you to talk with our tribe, to learn. You may not leave the valley, and you may not enter any homes. You are to keep up your training with the Spade, and I will command my strongest warrior to help give you instruction and build your skills. You are not to go near Morte. And if he suddenly disappears or is set free, you die, along with the Spade. I will make you watch as we take him piece by piece.”

“Where is Sir Gorrann?”

“He will be waiting for you back at your tent. We spoke earlier this morning, and he handled the climb even worse than you did.” Dinah’s mouth curved into the smallest of smiles as Mundoo strolled up behind her. At least Sir Gorrann was alive. “We will speak again, Princess, but for now you must go. You have met your guards, Ki-ershan and Yur-Jee. They will follow you wherever you go. Yur-Jee lost his eldest son to your father’s Heartsword, so I would be careful not to anger him. Passion can lead a man to violent ways.”

Dinah nodded and turned to go. The sunlight winked in front of her face, just for a second, and then there was an arm around her neck, a body pressed against her back. Mundoo had moved so fast. Dinah didn’t understand what was happening. The pain came swiftly as something sharp and hard was shoved into her, through her. Her shoulder exploded, and everything went white. She grasped his outstretched hand, where she saw a thin wooden knife made of the same white wood that held the tent aloft. It was as slender as a knitting needle, and now covered with red. Mundoo took a breath and shoved it into her back again, just over her shoulder blade. He was killing her. She didn’t feel it going in, but the pain when it was pulled out was worse than anything she had ever felt. Dinah let out a muffled scream as the blood rushed forth over her shoulder. The pain was deep, like a thousand scalding irons were being pushed inside her. She stumbled backward before falling to her knees with a choking gasp. Mundoo knelt behind her and wrapped his thick arm around her neck again, his lips brushing her ear as he pulled her close. Dinah gurgled and choked. His hand was covered in blood.

Colleen Oakes's Books