LITMIR.BIZ

      Dinah flew backward, knocking her spine against a rock. Picking up a handful of loose dirt, she flung it at the Spade’s face and felt the ground for her sword. The Spade gave an annoyed cough.

      “You won’t be finding that now, Yer Highness.” The Spade raised his other hand, which held Dinah’s sword. He had two swords and she had none. “Yeh know, it’s not very princess-like to throw dirt.”

      Dinah paused a second before slowly inching herself toward the Spade, hoping to scramble over the rock to where Morte lay snoring on the ridge above. Why is he still sleeping? Curse that lazy beast! As she moved forward, his blade slid coolly against her throat. She stopped moving.

      “Don’t be calling that monster of yours. I just want to talk to yeh, that’s all.”

      Her heart galloped wildly in her chest and Dinah glanced frantically around for the rest of the king’s men. “Where are the others?”

      “Ah, them. I left them behind.” The Spade stepped forward into the light and Dinah gave a loud gasp.

      “You!” She recognized the Spade instantly—his dark gold eyes, his grizzly gray hair, the tiny black heart tattooed under his right eye—mostly because of the shallow two-inch scar that ran down his left cheek. “I know you.”

      The Spade smiled and drew his sword lightly across the mark. “Yes, yeh know me. You gave me this, you may remember, back in the palace when I dared to pluck a silly wooden toy from yeh. Yeh slapped me with a big ring? A big ring for a spoiled princess.”

      “It wasn’t my toy. It was for my brother.”

      The Spade grimaced. “He won’t be needing that much now, will he? Wings might have helped more.”

      Dinah let out an angry scream before she feinted left, twisting past the sword, and managed to grab the Spade’s black breastplate. He roughly shoved her backward with one hand. She tumbled in the dirt. He was so strong. She flung a rock at him, which bounced off his armored chest.

      “Do not speak of my brother, you filth!”

      The Spade peered at Dinah with fascination. “Just as spirited as I remember yeh! Now shut that privileged mouth and listen to what I say. I’ll need yeh to promise that you won’t try to run from me, otherwise I might have to give you a matching scar. And unlike me, you aren’t pretty enough to make it charming.”

      Dinah sat back, her legs collapsing underneath her. The Spade wiped his face with his sleeve and tossed Wardley’s sword into a nearby bush. He then dropped his sword down to waist level, his keen eyes never leaving Dinah’s face. Her eyes met his and there was a moment of silence where they stared at each other. He stroked his goatee, peppered black and gray.

      “I’m here to aid yeh. You can’t make it very much longer without my help. Yer father and the Cards will find yeh. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but they will. And when they do …” The Spade pursed his thin lips and drew his finger across his neck. “Your father is a king entirely without honor.” His eyes focused sadly upon the wood behind her.

      Dinah stared at him, not understanding what he was saying. He wants to help me? She followed his eyes to the side, giving the impression that she was considering his speech before bolting off to the right. She almost made it past the edge of the boulder and opened her mouth to yell for Morte but before she could, the Spade caught her around the waist and flung her roughly to the ground. Dinah’s still-healing fingers vibrated with pain, and the Spade reached forward and boxed her on her right temple, which left Dinah’s head spinning. Blood seeped into her ear.

      “Oh, fer gods’ sake …” The Spade picked her up and easily propped her back underneath the rock overhang. “We’ll try again. My name is Sir Gorrann. I’ve been a Spade in the Cards service for thirty years, and I am here to help yeh, if you will just settle down and stop behaving like a wild bear, damn yeh.” Dinah was having trouble breathing, and the world spun around as her hearing slowly returned. She was unsure of what was happening. He gave a loud sigh.

      “It makes me unhappy to treat yeh so, but until you stop tryin’ to run, it’ll just be beatin’ after beatin’.” He settled down next to Dinah on a tree stump and pulled off his black gloves, flexing his hands. She laid her forehead against the ground, her hands curled protectively over her head.

      “I can’t … I can’t … think.”

      “Aye, you’ve never been hit before, have yeh? More reason that you need help to survive. I can teach you many things, Princess. How to cover a track, how to fight, how to find food.”

      “I know how to fight,” mumbled Dinah.

      “No, yeh don’t. That handsome stable boy might have taught yeh a few things, but fighting wasn’t one of them.”

      “Wardley?” At his mention, everything in the world seemed to stop. “What do you know about Wardley? Is he alive?”

      “Ah, now yeh want to talk.” The Spade dusted off his black tunic, adorned with a glossy black Spade symbol. “Tell you what, Princess—I’ll make yeh a deal. Yeh stop trying to run, and make sure that horse of yers doesn’t impale me on one of his bone spikes, and I’ll tell yeh everything yeh want to know about Wonderland and what’s happened since yer … departure.”

      Dinah blinked in the rising sun, her eyes trained on the Spade’s face. “I remember you. You left the gate open that night. You could have shut it, but you waited. I saw you. You paused …”

      The

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