The Wonder (Queen of Hearts Saga #2)(49)
On the day of their departure, a few months’ time since Dinah had descended from the mountain with her crown, the women of the Yurkei tribe silently gathered to present Dinah with a gift: a suit for battle, adorned with elements representing both Hu-Yuhar and Wonderland. As the women unfolded it before her, Dinah bit her lip to keep from bursting into tears of appreciation. Here she was taking these women’s husbands and sons to fight for her—some surely to the death, and they were giving her a work of art, something that could never be repaid or replicated. She would make them widows and they gave her gifts. The breastplate was white—a pure, flawless white that reflected bright rays of sun. Across the front was a red painted heart, slashed through with a single broken edge—it was very similar to her father’s armor, only it had been bent and shaped to a woman’s body. It came down and hit her at the hip, where tiny red hearts lined the sharp edging. They gave her leg and arm guards, black and marked with the same red heart.
The armor, while meticulously crafted, was just a foretaste of their artistry and talent, shown fully in Dinah’s cloak. To call it a cloak or a cape was a mistake, for it was so much more than that. It fastened around her neck and was buoyed out from her shoulders by the same remarkable light wood that held the Hu-Yuhar tents aloft. A thick collar of black-and-white checkerboard fabric fanned out from the sides of her neck and curled into two hearts just below her cheeks. The collar was lined with soft white gossamer feathers plucked from young birds and the cape was made of white crane feathers. The tip of each feather had been dipped in red paint, giving the appearance of a blood-tipped wing. The cape stretched out behind her like wings, long enough to brush the ground. Dinah let them dress her and braid her hair with ribbons. When they all stepped back, wide-eyed, she knew she was ready.
Dinah settled her ruby crown on her head and turned to face the women. Some were weeping, others looked simply afraid, their wide blue eyes open in fear. As she emerged from her tent, Cheshire put his hand over his heart and gasped. Sir Gorrann, steps behind him, raised his eyebrows.
“How do I look?” asked Dinah with a smile.
Bah-kan was sharpening a knife on a small rock nearby and looked up in her direction. “Terrifying. A thing of nightmares.”
“If you think that,” she replied, “then they have done a fine job.”
She gave a thankful nod to the Yurkei women, who gathered around and laid their hands over the heart on her breastplate, giving her healing tinctures and murmuring quiet prayers for her success.
That night, Dinah had barely returned to her tent before tears of gratitude fell heavily. There was little time for tears while the gears of war were turning, and she was grateful for their release.
The sun rose and set in the sky, and before Dinah felt she could wrap her head around all the details, it was the night before their departure. All of Hu-Yuhar fell silent, and Dinah could feel the heavy desperation and fear in the air—so much was at stake in this gamble, this gamble that rested on her. The throne of Wonderland, the fate of a native people—it all weighed on her shoulders, heavy as the cape they had draped over her. As a dark night fell over Hu-Yuhar, so removed from those who clutched each other desperately in their tents, Dinah walked through the silent valley, making her way toward the towering stone cranes that guarded their whispered secrets. There was one more thing that she wanted.
Without the aid of her guards, Dinah climbed the ladder and entered Mundoo’s tent. He was feasting with his family, and Dinah felt rude about interrupting this sacred last night at home. Still, she pushed open the flap and climbed to her feet. Mundoo’s wife and seven children looked up in alarm.
“I need to speak with you before tomorrow.”
Mundoo gestured with his hand, and his wife and children scampered out onto the bridges, which rocked loudly in the cool mountain air. Dinah lifted her fingers to the crown. Lately, whenever she felt the creeping doubts or the listless fear that had come with preparing for war and death, she touched her crown. It centered and reassured her. She gave a slight bow to Mundoo before she began speaking in a quiet yet forceful voice.
“You have something I want. I feel that we have given you a great deal in our negotiations. I have not asked for anything.”
Mundoo laughed as he lustily licked the grease from his fingers. “You have asked for nothing. Nothing except a crown on your head and to become the most powerful person in Wonderland.”
Dinah swallowed and continued. “I want him back. He is no good to you dead. We need him.”
“No. YOU need him. A normal steed will fit you just fine.”
“Any man who rides a Hornhoov knows that to be a lie.”
Mundoo rose and sat stiffly on his throne of golden cranes. He looked at Dinah, amused. “I cannot give you the mad beast that has killed so many of my warriors. It goes against every principle of Yurkei justice that we have, even if I believe he would aid you in battle.”
Dinah smiled. “I realize that, and I would never ask you to compromise your rule or reputation with your people. But what if I could offer you, and the Yurkei, something greater than death?”
Mundoo raised an eyebrow at her, his radiant blue eyes boosting what little confidence she had at that moment. “And what could that possibly be? What could possibly equal the cost of lives? Some of your Wonderland gold perhaps? A raid of your treasury once you are crowned?” He scoffed. “It is so like Wonderland to think they can buy Yurkei justice. You do not understand our way if you think gold can pay for blood.”