The Moth in the Mirror (Splintered, #1.5)(7)
Morpheus tightened his crimson necktie. “Every task I’ve asked of Alyssa has had a purpose.” He stepped to one side as someone new slipped through the mirror portal—a dwarfish skeleton with antlers and glowing pink eyes, trussed up in a red waistcoat.
“Rabid White?” Jeb whispered in disbelief. None of this made sense. Rabid was from the Red Court. Why was he here?
“What’s the report, then?” Morpheus crouched down close to Rabid’s height, still keeping his wing tips tucked inside the invisible mirror portal.
The little netherling kneaded his gloved hands and glared up at Jeb, his bald head reflecting the soft shimmer of Morpheus’s lantern. “One of us, are you?”
Morpheus smiled and answered for Jeb. “Of course he is. He helped our Alyssa conquer the big bad Red army, did he not?”
Scratching his left antler, Rabid nodded. “King Grenadine, neutralized be. At both the front and back gates, the castle guarded by regiments three and seven. Flanking the queen, a circle of five. And not to dismiss, the crown and its keeper.”
“Ah, yes. The bandersnatch. Well, once Alyssa brings me her prize from the Twid sisters’ cemetery, I’ll have nothing more to fear from that wretched beast. You’ve done well, Sir White.” Morpheus tipped his hat.
Rabid clicked his cadaverous ankles together and bowed, then gave Jeb a final piercing pink glare before he hopped back through the portal.
“He’s your spy,” Jeb mumbled, feeling like an idiot for not guessing that sooner.
“Yes.”
“So all those times the little bonehead threatened Al, scared her lifeless, that was to uphold the appearance of loyalty to Queen Grenadine?”
“The best spies are the ones that play both sides with equal vigor.”
Jeb studied the swinging lanterns in the distance. The squeaking of metal handles and the shuffling of boots eclipsed the wind’s soft whine. “Okay. Since we’re laying out all our cards—”
Morpheus’s snort interrupted him. “What a delightfully fitting pun, considering where we stand.” His lantern motioned to all the card-guard corpses.
Jeb ignored the morbid joke. “I was going to ask why Rabid turned against the Red Court.”
“He was Queen Red’s royal advisor during Alice’s visit. He wants to see the true heir upon the throne almost as much as I do.”
“True heir.” Jeb kicked up a puff of dirt with one boot, his chest tight. “So all of this has been to dethrone Grenadine and make room for a new queen.”
“Yes.” The lantern glazed Morpheus’s face in an expression of dreamy indulgence. “And we’re so close. Soon she’ll be on her throne, where she’s always belonged. In her proper place.”
Her proper place. A hypothesis formed in Jeb’s mind, outrageous and incomprehensible yet somehow the obvious answer to all the questions earlier churning in his mind. Every question except one …
“But first,” Morpheus said with a dismissive sweep of his hand, “we have to be sure what we’re up against when we raid the castle. You and Alyssa managed to take out quite a chunk of the opposition with your fancy footwork. We’re here to assess if the numbers match up with the ones Rabid reported. We must ensure that Grenadine doesn’t have any cards hidden up her sleeve.” He slapped Jeb on the back. “See what I did there? ‘Cards up her sleeve’?” He chuckled.
Jeb didn’t crack a smile.
“Oh, come now. She has cards for guards. ’Tis a pun, like the one you made earlier, but much more clever.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Jeb scowled.
Morpheus’s smile faded. “You’re not a very fun date.”
“Don’t you ever take anything seriously?” Jeb gritted out. “Al’s in danger out there.”
“Nonsense. She’s gloriously capable! Did you not see her fly earlier? Of course you did! You were dangling at the end of her chain.” Morpheus swung his lantern over his head in celebratory sweeps. “Wasn’t she a vision, coming into her own? Just like a fairy princess.” He gave Jeb a sly glance. “Don’t you agree?”
Fairy princess. There it was, out of Morpheus’s own mouth, mocking Jeb for not realizing it from the very beginning. Jeb clenched his hands on the backpack straps to keep from jamming a fist into Morpheus’s larynx.
Morpheus set his lantern down, then fished silver gloves out of his lapel. “Don’t feel slighted, mortal knight. Your contribution did not go unnoticed. And I always repay my debts. So I’ll be taking you out of this gulley of death in demonstration of my gratitude.”
“You can thank me by letting me help Al,” Jeb managed, vocal cords tight. “She’ll finish her assignment a lot faster with me at her side.” If he could get to her, maybe they could hide from Morpheus in the Twid sisters’ cemetery together until they figured a way out of this.
“Sorry,” Morpheus said, pulling on the gloves as he motioned the Elfin Knights back over. “She needs to do this on her own. You shall see her soon enough; we’ll all be reunited. One big happy family.”
“No!” Jeb’s control ripped loose. He lunged, but the elves were too fast and restrained him, fingers biting into his wounded elbows. “Just let her leave Wonderland, you son of a bug—”