Ensnared (Splintered, #3)(103)

He grins, then hops away down the hall, looking more like a rabbit than a demented otherworldly being.

Dad shuts the door and both my parents stare at me as if I’m a mirage that could disappear any second.

“Okay.” I’m done being in the dark. “What’s going on?”

Mom’s gaze falls to the purple glimmer radiating from my chest. I’d forgotten about it with Rabid’s unexpected arrival. I hold my hand over the gown, pressing my key against the place that glows. A warm flash of happy memories surges: Morpheus and me as children, then Jeb always there during my middle school years. Their voices follow, blended together and filled with love and encouragement: You are the best of both worlds . . . You got this, skater-girl-fairy-queen.

I look up at my parents, seeking the answers I see in their faces. “Where are Jeb and Morpheus?” I ask, my throat dry. “I can’t believe they’re not here. I almost died.”

“They would’ve been here, but . . . Ivory will explain their absence.” Mom turns her eyes to Dad. Behind her black lashes and blue irises flecked with turquoise, there’s anxiety.

Absence? A knowing stirs in my gut. This change within my heart is a combination of them and their magic. I still have no idea how Jeb kept Red’s power after we stepped into Wonderland from AnyElsewhere, but the biggest question gnawing at me is why aren’t they here?

I waver as my mind rocks with horrible scenarios.

“Butterfly, sit down.” Dad supports my elbow and slides me back onto the bed. He offers his Elvis smirk, but I’m not buying it because of the eyelid twitch that follows.

“The guys,” I squeak.

“They’re fine,” he answers. “They’ll be by to see you soon. They’re busy right now.”

I let out a breath, my relief so palpable I can almost taste it. “Busy with what?”

“Re-creating Wonderland,” Mom answers.

I stand back up. “I was supposed to help Ivory with that. It takes two queens working together, from both kingdoms. This is one half my world, and wholly my responsibility.”

Dad’s face flushes. He drapes a quilt around me. “It takes two queens’ crown-magic. Ivory will explain. And you need to get some clothes on if you plan to leave this room—”

“She can’t leave,” Mom interrupts. “Allie, there are instructions for the magical sutures.”

I tie the quilt around my neck, forming a robe. “Sutures?” I back up to the bed and prop my hips against the mattress’s edge. “But Red said there was no magic she knew of that could help me.”

“That is true.” Upon the sound of Ivory’s voice, I look over at the door. Both her milky skin and her layered floor-length dress glisten like the crystallized ice on the walls of this room. “This brand of magic has never been experienced by Red, or by most netherlings.” She steps inside. Chessie sits atop her left shoulder and Nikki on her right, confirming I didn’t imagine the little sprite earlier. There’s only one explanation: Jeb repainted her.

“Jeb wasn’t drained of Red’s magic,” I venture.

Ivory’s wings sweep behind her, resembling a feather cape. “His muse has been forever altered. The tie was so strong between his creative drive and Red’s closed-minded obstinance, they fused together and became an entity. So although Morpheus’s magic returned to its original vessel, Red’s stayed within your mortal knight. His talent for painting is a living thing now, retained within him. And it is more powerful here than it was in the looking-glass world, for there is no iron to taint or weaken his creations. They cannot be washed away with water. They become as real as you or I.”

As outrageous and unsettling as the concept is, it makes sense. “So, because his power comes from Red, it retains her royal bloodline and her crown-magic. He helped re-create the landscapes with you.”

“Yes,” Ivory says, smiling. “And Morpheus guided us, as he knows every nook and cranny of Wonderland, even the wilds occupied only by the solitary fae. It was his place to make the sketches for Jebediah to follow. We are finished now.”

A strange wave of sadness washes over me and I sit again. “I was supposed to be a part of it. It was my duty.”

“No, Alyssa,” Ivory scolds. “Your duty was to rest and heal, for your kingdom needs a queen, not a corpse. Correct?”

I nod in agreement, but it’s halfhearted.

Mom sits next to me, her arm around my waist. “Allie, there’s still something very important for you to do. Only you can decide what will become of Red. Are you going to cast her out and destroy her? Or give her back to Sister Two as a restless spirit?”

Restless spirit. Red’s the furthest thing from that. I’ve never seen anyone so dejected and weary. Her unforgotten memories are immovable chains around her.

She whimpers inside me, curling up tighter.

It’s not so easy to crush her now that she’s remembered. Now that she has regrets. She even knows what became of her king, how he’s forever imprisoned in the jabberlock box, because of events she set into motion. Her vendetta has lost all meaning.

I tell myself I’m keeping her alive to punish her, but there’s more to it than that.

“I came to kill her,” I say, seeking counsel for my conflicting feelings.

“Maybe it’s enough that you reminded her there’s more to living than death and destruction,” Dad says, stroking the top of my head.