LITMIR.BIZ

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me very much. Thank you for honoring me with your request.” Dinah gave him a slight nod of her head, but Ki-ershan caught her chin on his finger.

      “You may not bow to me. You are queen, and I will bow to you.” He awkwardly bowed before her and retreated a few feet to his tent, which was attached to Dinah’s. This was more than just mere courtesy—the Yurkei did not bow to Dinah, only to Mundoo, and so Ki-ershan had just committed his life to Dinah as his queen and leader. She found herself deeply moved.

      As the night turned late, all the camp was silent. The collective breath of an army of nervous men was more deafening than any sound Dinah had ever heard. She was dressing for bed when her tent flap opened and Cheshire ducked his head through the entrance. She hastily pulled her robe shut, and he turned away awkwardly.

      “Your Majesty, I’m sorry to catch you unaware.”

      “I was just turning in, though I doubt sleep will come. Is something amiss?”

      Cheshire pushed his way into her tent, though he was thoroughly uninvited. “Would you like to see the palace?” he whispered. His words caught Dinah off guard.

      “What?”

      “Come with me. Quietly.” She followed him outside, and they both climbed onto his red mare. Ki-ershan and Yur-Jee, always at the ready, shadowed on their horses. In minutes, they had reached the abandoned town. The windows stared at Dinah with their empty, dead eyes. It gave her the feeling of being watched. The horses galloped up a few vistas beyond the abandoned village before coming to the windmill that Dinah could see from her tent. With a grunt, Cheshire shoved open a rickety door to the windmill, his dagger drawn menacingly.

      “You don’t need that,” hissed Dinah. “There is no one in this town.”

      “You can’t be too careful,” he answered calmly.

      “Wait out here,” Dinah instructed the two Yurkei. “We will be right back down.”

      “I’ll go with you, my queen.” Ki-ershan dismounted his pale horse and brought up the rear, leaving Yur-Jee outside. Following closely behind Cheshire, Dinah wound up the spiral staircase that led onto the roof. The building smelled of rotting wood and the fetid stench of standing water. The giant heaving windmill blades vibrated through the walls and made a low growl as they spun around the well-worn axle. Once they reached the top, Cheshire seemed to step outside into thin air. Dinah cautiously followed, her feet finding a small ledge lined with a broken railing. She grasped Cheshire’s hand and stepped out onto the balcony. A summer wind rippled around them, and Cheshire’s plum cloak billowed out from the ledge like a banner. The ledge faced north, and for such a paltry structure, its view was made for a king.

      A few villages covered the landscape, black dots on a sea of green-and-yellow grasses. Pale trails of moonlight cast long shadows on the valley, though the pebbled road quietly reflected its light. There were no signs of life in any of the villages. There was nothing to see, with the exception of Wonderland Palace, rising up in the distance, its glorious spires brushing the sky, with the ominous tips of the Black Towers looming behind them.

      From there, Dinah could even see the outline of the Royal Apartments, spiraling red-and-white stones that seemed to reach into the heavens. She could just make out the tall iron wall that encircled the castle, the gates that her men would hopefully break open in a day. The palace pulsed with a warm light cast from its thousands of red stained-glass windows. From this balcony, she could even make out the largest heart window, the one that poured its light into the Great Hall. The Great Hall, where the King of Hearts gathered his generals, no doubt preparing to launch his massive defense of the palace. Where he drunkenly laughed at the idea of defeat at the hands of his weak daughter and the Yurkei chief.

      “Do you think—”

      She didn’t get a chance to finish her question. A shadow rose out of the barren village, moving quickly and flying toward them. She opened her mouth to yell, but it was too late. An arrow grazed her cheek and buried itself deep into the mill behind her. When she turned, she could see a red glass heart quivering in its nock.

      Dinah leaped back and Ki-ershan shoved past, pushing his torso in front of her and pressing her against the wall behind him. He turned to shield her beneath his arm. Cheshire ducked just as another arrow whistled past his head. His black eyes were wide with fear as he screamed at them both. Two more arrows thunked into the wood above their heads.

      “Get the queen inside! Where is that coming from? Ki-ershan? Can you see it?” Ki-ershan, still crouched like a protective animal over Dinah, raised his head.

      “There!” He pointed. A small, lone figure was running away from the mill, a bow at his side. Ki-ershan screamed something in Yurkei, and Dinah saw Yur-Jee sprinting after the figure. Dinah’s voice was caught in her throat as she watched Yur-Jee quickly gaining on the shadow. Suddenly the Yurkei stopped running, took a deep breath, and raised his bow, a pale arrow nocked on the bowstring.

      “Stop!” Dinah cried, but it was too late. In a flash, Yur-Jee released the arrow and it buried itself deep in the figure’s back. The small figure pitched forward into the dirt. Ki-ershan grabbed Dinah’s arm and yanked her to her feet, pulling her down the rickety stairs. Cheshire, breathing loudly, followed, a dagger clutched to his chest. They ran toward Yur-Jee, who had propped the figure up, his knife at the man’s throat. As Dinah approached, her heart sank. It wasn’t a man. It was a tall boy, no more than thirteen, pale and wild-eyed. He drew labored breaths that Dinah knew would be his last. A black stain spread rapidly on the front of his shirt. Yur-Jee stepped away and the boy crumpled to the ground.

      “Don’t go near him,” Cheshire warned as they approached. “He’s an assassin.”

      “He’s a boy,” snapped Dinah. She knelt beside the boy, taking him gently in her arms. He was almost the same age as Charles, but with curly red hair and a generous dotting of freckles. Flecks of blood covered his mouth, and the point of the arrow protruding from his small chest rose and fell with each breath. Dinah laid her hand over the wound and pulled the boy close. His eyes opened and shut at random as he stared at her face. He coughed up blood as he tried to speak.

      “Are you the Queen of Hearts?”

      Dinah nodded and touched his hair gently. “Why did you do this? Where is your family?” The boy’s eyes were fluttering now, and Dinah gave him a soft shake. “Look at me. It’s going to be all right. Why did you try to kill me?”

      “The king … the king … he took my family, and he said that if I didn’t kill you, he would kill my parents.” His unfocused eyes lingered on Dinah’s face. “I’m sorry. Please don’t …” His mouth gave a final tremble, and he pulled himself up to Dinah’s ear before resting against her neck. “There is one of us in each village.” His body gave a convulsive shake and a raspy rattle passed through his mouth, his sour breath washing over Dinah’s cheek.

      She looked into his eyes. “I’ll protect your family when I am queen. I promise.”

      A small smile dashed across his face before his cloudy eyes stared out at nothing. His chest stopped heaving. He was gone.

      Dinah slowly laid his body down on the ground and used her sleeve to wipe the blood from his mouth. He looked so much like Charles. The same eyes, the same determined mouth. This wasn’t an accident. Images of her brother’s fractured limbs flooded her mind, of his eyes staring motionless at the stars. She thought of Lucy and Quintrell in a bloody pile, of the dark spot underneath Charles’s head, of the crown he made that she would never wear.

      Without a word, she stood up and began walking back to camp.

      “Your Majesty …,” Cheshire called after her.

      “Bury him!” she barked in reply.

      Cheshire followed her. “He tried to kill you.”

      Dinah whirled on him. “Only because the king threatened his family! He was innocent, and we buried an arrow in his back.” Her shoulders shuddered. “We shot a child.”

      Cheshire

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