Queen of Hearts: The Crown (Queen of Hearts Saga #1)(8)
Yes—she could see her footprints in the dirt. She let out a sigh of relief. That was the way she had come. It made sense, after all; she was the Princess of Hearts. Dinah ventured into the archway that featured the tree symbol. It was even more crooked than the way she had come, and the tunnel kept shrinking, until Dinah had to crouch to fit into it, her head brushing the dirty ceiling. It compressed again, and she found herself crawling. The tunnel wound down in a seemingly never-ending curve. White moss began creeping across the walls, and all sounds of palace life ceased overhead. Then, when Dinah felt she could possibly crawl no further, it opened up into a thick stone wall, held in place by bolts as thick as her arm. A dead end.
Dinah stood and wrapped her arms around herself, attempting to halt the shivers that shook her shoulders. How long had she been in these tunnels? Time had somehow become irrelevant. Days? Hours? Cold air wafted around her, twisting down from above and shifting the dirt under her feet. She raised her hands above her head and felt fresh air kiss her fingertips. Dinah’s eyes followed the bolts upward until they rested on a faintly outlined circle far above her head, its dusty handle barely visible.
A door. Her eyes widened. Those weren’t bolts, they were a ladder! Dinah climbed six bolts before her feet caught on her dress and she tumbled violently to the tunnel floor, scraping her knees and palms.
On her next attempt, she left her dress behind. Grunting and sweating with the effort and wearing only a slip, Dinah pulled herself to the topmost bolt and pushed against the door. Dust showered her as the door creaked with resistance. Using all of her strength, Dinah bent her head and pushed with her shoulders, praying that her feet would not slip from the bolts. Once she did that, the door easily opened, mud and grass raining down on her from above and coating her eyelashes.
With strenuous effort, Dinah heaved herself out through the hole. She sneezed a few times and looked around in wonder as she lay on the ground, feeling her ribs contract. Above her, the Wonderland stars twinkled and, if you watched closely, inched through the sky ever so slightly. Constellations in Wonderland were never constant, and Dinah loved seeing the changing patterns from night to night—circles, spirals, lines, clusters—the stars never formed the same arrangement twice. And here they were, her stars, so bright their light lit up all of Wonderland. She was outside. Never had she been so glad to feel the cool breeze on her skin. She only now realized that she had been afraid in the tunnels. Her rage had made her blind. Crisp night air caressed her body, which was covered only by her thin slip. The night breeze dried her tears and cleared her mind.
Once her breathing returned to normal, Dinah stood up and took in her surroundings. She was outside the palace gates, maybe half a mile from the perfect circle of imposing ornamental iron walls that surrounded her home. The infamous iron walls were made of thousands of sharp iron hearts, twisting together in a dance of beauty and defense that warned intruders to stay away. She was facing east now, and if she squinted, she could see the outline of the Twisted Wood, many, many miles away from Wonderland Palace.
She looked down at her toes and wiggled them in the wildflowers blooming around her feet. Somewhere nearby, just inside the gates, the great Julla Tree creaked in the wind, and then a high-pitched wail rippled through the air, alive and intense all at once. It seemed to be laughing at her. Dinah faced the castle and willed herself not to fear what lay unseen in the open fields behind her. She began walking slowly away from the tunnel.
She had never been outside the gates of Wonderland Palace, and she gazed upon her palace now in wonder. It rose out of the fields of red flowers like a beacon of blinding hope. Its golden spires twisted and pierced the sky, the turrets and raised rose gardens adding beauty to its numerous walls, white bridges connecting one tower to the next. Dinah knew that below the turrets, stretching out from the Royal Apartments, was the Croquet Lawn—an endless expanse of green turf, perfect for picnics, croquet, or ostrich riding. Parallel to the Croquet Lawn on the other side of the castle was the Checkered Courtyard. This was where the Spades and Heart Cards lined up for training, and where traitors were executed, their blood spilling across a long, white marble block.
From where she stood, she could barely see anything except the gates and the towering heights of the Royal Apartments. She spied her own bedroom balcony and waved, thinking for a moment that maybe Harris could see her. But he could not. No one knew where she was, and she certainly couldn’t tell them about her secret tunnel to the outside. Perhaps, she thought, perhaps Cheshire didn’t know about the tree tunnel that led to the outside. It was hers alone. There had been no other footprints inside that tunnel, and dust didn’t form overnight. There must be another tunnel down there, she thought, one that led to the Royal Apartments. That’s where Cheshire had been taking her.
With a smile, Dinah took in the view of the palace one last time. Her castle was a beauty, a fierce and formidable fortress, lovely and dangerous all at once. One day, Dinah thought, this would all be hers.
I will be the Queen of Wonderland. I will be the Queen and Vittiore will only be the Duchess. The thought was enough.
Her knees gave a shake as she stared up at the castle, and Dinah realized that she was exhausted. Her bed chambers seemed very appealing, and the low moan that rose from the Twisted Wood sent shivers down her spine. Dinah took a few steps back to the tunnel entrance, only this time, she couldn’t find the opening. She knew it had been near some herb plants and a thick, gnarled bush, but it was gone.