from his left shoulder to the floor, denoting his authority over all the Cards. There was no one above Cheshire but the king. A brilliant purple cloak poured over his hard shoulders.
Dinah stared up at Cheshire with confusion. He was never her ally; rather, he was a man who constantly whispered twisted secrets in her father’s ear. The rumors of his extracurricular activities ran rampant in the castle. Some said he spent time in a secret laboratory in the Black Towers, making new species of birds and concocting poisons. Some said he could change forms and wandered the castle all night disguised as a house cat. Dinah had always passed that off as commoner silliness, but now she wasn’t so sure. There was a compelling strangeness about him, something that drew her toward his silky promises. Still, she hated him and always had. She blamed him for her father’s hatred of her.
Cheshire’s voice was gentle as he released the king’s fingers from Dinah’s shoulders. “I’ll take her back to her quarters. Perhaps Princess Dinah isn’t feeling up to a feast today.”
The king walked away from her without a second glance and curled his arm protectively around Vittiore, who had stood silently through the exchange. She stared back at Dinah with empty eyes.
“Yes, Cheshire. That sounds good. Take her away. Get her out of my sight.”
The King of Hearts emerged from behind the thrones and began introducing Vittiore to his many lords and ladies clustered at the base of the stairs. Dinah felt hollowed out, a bowl scraped bare, and so she allowed her father’s devious adviser to lead her down a few stairs behind the thrones and out a secret door usually used for the king to take his privy leave. They walked halfway down the stone hallway when Cheshire stopped. Turning toward her with a dangerous smile, he pulled back an elaborate wall tapestry near the privy. Dust showered down on them both, but once it cleared, it revealed a door the same shade as the stone around it. Cheshire held a finger to his lips and with an outstretched hand pushed the door open to reveal a passageway carved into the castle walls.
Dinah was too upset to be impressed, although normally she would have been fascinated. There were many secret ways through Wonderland Palace, and she loved discovering them one at a time. Mostly her days were filled with mind-numbing croquet, etiquette, history, and dancing lessons, but once in a while she was able to slip away from Harris’s watchful eye and explore the palace with Wardley.
With a frown, she granted Cheshire a raised whisper as she wiped a stray tear away from her eye. “Where does it go?” asked Dinah.
He was silent.
“Where does it go?” she asked again, annoyed.
He simply nodded his head in the direction of the tunnel. Dinah ducked under the door, her heart hammering equally with dread and curiosity. After a few swift turns down mud-caked stairs, they ended up in a damp stone passage lit by glowing pink lanterns. The twists seemed endless. Cheshire talked quietly as they walked, the high lilt of his voice echoing off the walls.
“I’m sure this was hard for you today, Your Highness. Not only are you getting a younger and much more beautiful sister in your sixteenth year of life, but you heard a clear tale of your father’s infidelity to your dear mother, gods rest her heart. An intelligent girl like you can’t be surprised. Your father’s desires for other women are well-known.” Cheshire paused, stroking his long chin. “He did not deserve Davianna.”
“Don’t speak of my mother to me, not now. And she’s not my sister,” snapped Dinah. “She’s a bastard child.”
Cheshire’s thin fingers wrapped around her elbow, and she found herself yanked backward, face-to-face with him, their noses inches from touching. His lips curled back in anger, revealing his hungry white teeth.
“Listen to me, Dinah,” he hissed. “You must never let the King of Hearts hear you say that. Things are going to change for you, child, and you had better be made of stronger stuff than the whiny brat you are now. You may be almost of age to be queen, but you are hardly ready.”
Dinah twisted her body back from his. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” she replied, her voice wavering. “And I don’t care. That girl is not my sister, and you are not Harris. You know nothing about me. Where is he? Where is Harris?”
“Harris is not here, not that he would be of much use to you outside of tutoring and picking out your gowns in the morning. He does not know about this passage. No one does. Just you and me. There might come a time when it will be of use to you, I am sure. There are many curious things in Wonderland Palace and the Black Towers.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “You had best learn everything you do not already know, Princess. Up until now you have been a spoiled girl who spends her days playing in the stables or making doe eyes at Wardley Ghane. Wonderland is a much darker and more twisted place than you imagine.”
Something inside Dinah broke. She could take no more of his ridiculous cryptic warnings or his venomous smile. It occurred to her that he was probably here on an errand from the king, to scare her into accepting Vittiore.
“Why are you talking to me?” she snapped. “You don’t know anything about me! Leave me be! Please!”
Spinning quickly away from Cheshire, she plunged into the dark tunnel ahead, not looking where she was running, not caring. She was sprinting now, her breathing heavy, her footsteps echoing through the darkness. She turned once and then again, spinning deeper and deeper into the depths of the tunnel, until all she could smell was earth and cold. Cheshire disappeared into the darkness behind her, his calls for her fading quietly into the black. She sprinted beneath the depths of the palace as fast as her jeweled feet could carry her. She turned right, then left, then slipped through a vertical slit in the wall. The dancing pink flames of the lanterns dimmed gradually as the tunnel deepened.
Dinah wasn’t thinking—only running, running as fast as she could. She kept seeing her father’s proud gaze at Vittiore and the devastated expression on Harris’s face as he let her walk into the Great Hall. The tunnel narrowed, and through her tears Dinah could see the stone walls closing in on her. Close to hysterics, Dinah knelt on the cold floor and let the tears wash out, a pouring sob that was deafeningly loud in the tight space. Weeping and pounding on the stone, she let out a loud scream of anger.
How dare he? How dare he be unfaithful to my mother? How dare he bring me in front of the court only to shame me? Why does he hate me so much?
In her mind, she saw Vittiore. Vittiore, her new sister, the bastard of her father’s loins, the proof that he didn’t love her mother as he claimed so publicly. Vittiore, with her long blond hair and cornflower-blue eyes. Dinah raked long furrows into the damp earth. She vowed to herself that she would never befriend Vittiore. She would not speak to her unless forced, and she would not see her perfectly formed face if she could avoid it. It would never be. Speaking to Vittiore would be a betrayal of her mother. Her mother …
Great heaving sobs escaped her lips, and she was grateful, for once, to have no servants nearby. Here, it was just her and the dirt. She gradually calmed, the darkness like a heavy blanket draped across her wide shoulders. Dinah wiped her eyes and looked around. All was silent. She decided to wander farther. The tunnel grew colder as it went deeper—the air blowing around her had a bitter bite to it. Thick black roots, twisting like snakes, grew overhead. They reminded her of witch’s bones, and more than once, she swore she could see them moving and reaching toward her when she looked away. This was a place of dark things.
Dinah stopped a minute to catch her breath. A single lantern lit a passageway in front of her, the flame sputtering in the darkness. She walked through the opening, and
