The Collectors' Society 01 (39 page)

Horns blare; I jerk back and turn away so I can wipe my eyes once more. The tent flaps rustle, and in trundles Ferz Epona followed closely on her heels by Ferz Eponi. The lord hands the White King a sheet of paper. “The Queen of Diamonds’ colleagues have been located.”

I immediately snatch the sheet. “Where?”

It’s Ferz Epona who answers. Her eyes widen at the sight of the blood on the King’s chest, but she quickly refocuses on me. “Jubjubs report that two matching the Queen’s descriptions have been seen in the company of Heart soldiers roughly two thousand yards away.”

Alarm tears through me.
“What?”

“Fetch Dr. Frankenstein,” the White King says. “He will want to be present to hear this.”

Ferz Epona salutes and swiftly leaves the tent.

I grab the King’s sleeve. “If she—”

“Last report I got,” he says to me, eyes serious, “had the Queen of Hearts edging on the White Queen’s encampment. There are been several skirmishes between the two armies, with the latest reported just this past day. She will not be so close to me.”

“Why would they take them?” I fight to keep myself from erupting. “What purpose would her soldiers have in such an act?”

“My lady,” Ferz Eponi says, “the Queen of Hearts has taken to ransoming hostages of the various Courts. Those who are not paid for are executed or sold into slavery. Chances are, your colleagues were captured alongside a number of other citizens in Nobbytown. The village had recently declared itself sympathetic to His Majesty’s causes.”

“There is no way Finn would have allowed either him or Mary to be taken. He is a skilled fighter.” I’m desperate, curious as I stare down at the crumpled note, but the words jumble on the page before disappearing. The White King has coded his notes. “He—”

“Rumor has it that the Heart army possess a type of spray that incapacitates people,” the Ferz says. “They call it SleepMist, and it is believed to work nearly immediately. One whiff and a person slips into a deep slumber that lasts for hours and then fades to partial paralysis for a few more after that. We’ve been trying to get samples for weeks.”

I’m horrified. She dared to go so far?

“The contingency,” the Ferz continues, “is supposedly not a very large one. The jubjubs estimate it to be at about fifty soldiers. That said, there are a pair of raths and a half-dozen pikemen present, all surrounding the caged caravans that carry the hostages.”

“You’re sure that . . . that my colleagues are there?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. One of the jubjubs was able to get close enough to identify.” He motions at the paper. “They appear to be asleep, my lady. There is no blood to be seen, at least from the view the bird had.”

Victor slips into the tent. “They’ve found Mary and Finn?”

As I nod, the White King says, “Ready a squadron. We leave in ten minutes.”

“Are they okay?” Victor asks me as the King orders his page to come and help him back into his armor.

“I think so.” I tell him what the Ferz has said.

“Shite.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to combat Wonderlandian poisons. Mary, yes, but . . .” He lets out a hard breath. “I’m not going to lie. I saw some bloody terrifying things down in the medical tents.” To the White King, he says, “How long will it take for us to get there?”

For a moment, I worry my former lover will insist upon us staying back. Victor, no matter how much I trust him, is still a stranger. But the King says, “Twenty minutes of hard riding. We will come in strong. If there are hostages, I want them all liberated. Your medical assistance may be required, Doctor.”

Victor squints. “Is that blood on your shirt? How did I not see it before? Let me have a look at you.”

The White King takes a step back. “Is it nothing I have not experienced before. I am fine, Dr. Frankenstein. Let us focus instead on the matters at hand.”

Victor doesn’t look too sure about this, though. “Fine. What about the catalyst?”

“Once we have your colleagues’ safety assured, we will leave at daybreak. It will take us nearly a full day to reach the crown’s location.”

I ask softly, “You’re coming?”

The White King holds my eyes while he says, “Of course I am coming, as will a small amount of guards. The Nightrider will stand in my stead here at camp. You did say this catalyst is of great import to Wonderland’s safety, did you not?”

My heart swells. “Yes, I did.”

“Then I will be there to ensure your way is clear. Come. Let us find armor to get you through the coming battle.”

W
HEN WE EXIT THE tent, the soldiers coming with us are already amount. Dozens of blindingly white horses with equally white eyes prance in the morning sunlight, golden rays sparkling through their manes.

“This is bloody uncomfortable.” Victor raps on the metal shielding his chest. “How does anybody ever get used to it?”

“You get used to it,” Ferz Eponi says from nearby, “when it saves your life, lad.”

“Do they talk?”

The Ferz is confused by Victor’s question. “Do who talk?”

“The horses!”

“No, Doctor. They’re
horses.”

Finn’s brother turns to me. “Am I wrong? There are talking animals who are soldiers in this encampment. The Nightrider is a unicorn after all.
He
talks.” He pauses. “Does he ride horses?”

Several of the soldiers around us—both human and animal—glower at Victor’s commentary.

I end up hushing him.

We are both wearing armor borrowed from sidelined knights in the medical wing. Thankfully, their fits are close enough that it should pose no problems if either of us is engaged on the field. Still, I can’t help but wish I’d thought to change into my own back at my vault in The Land that Time Forgot.

Just before I mount my horse, the White King breaks away from the Nightrider to come to where I am. He kneels down on the ground, my vorpal blade in his outstretched hands. And the sight of him doing this, holding my sword and kneeling before me, tests my strength.

The crowd around us goes quiet. The only sounds are borogrove songs from above and impatient hooves upon muddy ground.

“I beg your forgiveness,” he says quietly, “but I could not resist.”

“Has it brought you luck?”

His head lifts at my broken words. “Yes, my lady.”

“Then my blade is exactly where it belongs. It would be my great honor if you were to carry it from this point on.” My blade, in his fist. Wonderland will still have pieces of me through this King.

He takes a deep breath and stands back up. The look in his eyes makes me want to be the one to fall to my knees. “As you wish.”

As the King mounts his steed, Victor asks suspiciously, “What was that all about?”

A horn trills. “We must leave now,” I tell him. “Do you ride?”

“I grew up in New York and London. No, I do not bloody ride horses.”

“Sir Halwyn?”

The elderly knight tugs his horse toward us. “Your Majesty?”

“I would ask that you ensure Dr. Frankenstein does not dismount.”

Halwyn’s armor clinks as he salutes me. “Yes, my lady.”

Victor’s cheeks flame red. He hisses my name under my breath, but I am not going to apologize for wishing his safety.

“I need you with us in battle.” I settle onto my saddle. “Mary and Finn will need you. And Victor?”

A page shoves Victor up onto his horse. “Yes?”

“Wonderlandian metal is strong. I am not sure if bullets will penetrate it. If you are to use your gun, make sure your shots go for the neck or face.”

He grabs his reigns. “You’re rather bloodthirsty, aren’t you?”

“No.” To quote the Librarian: “I’m a realist.”

Another horn trills and then blares long and hard. The White King lifts my blade into the air. “I will accept no failures on our behalves today. There are innocents held by the Hearts, and we cannot allow the atrocities plaguing Wonderland to touch their lives for any longer than they already have.”

A rousing cheer sends the nesting borogroves screaming from nearby trees.

“Do not fear. Do not falter. Go with the singular purpose that every innocent life deserves our protection.”

A song lifts from the clearing, of days of old and in a language lost to many Wonderlanders. And yet understanding sinks meaningfully within every chest that hears the intonations. The knights sing, and as they do, goose pimples break out along my arms. The last time I heard this song, my knights were the one to sing it, and it moves me more than I can say.

A third series of horn trills sound once the song dies. The knights roar, “For Wonderland!”

I keep my horse close to Victor’s during the charge. We ride in the middle of the pack, with the King leading our way. His banners have been left behind—this ride is not for glory. This one is purely for justice.

The morning is chilly, and the air stings my face. Cannons boom in the far distance, but no one is worried about them. We have two dozen pikemen with us, including the Five of Diamonds. The White King’s forces have always been amongst the best and most loyal in Wonderland, and now that mine have combined with his in my absence, I have no fear whether we will be victorious today. I only fear the effects of SleepMist on non-natives. What if its properties are much like those of the food and water here? What if there are side effects we cannot account for?

I cannot be borne. I will not allow it.

After nearly a half-hour ride through the Orange Fields, the Hearts caravan appears. They must be stupidly optimistic, because from what I can tell as we charge forth, most of the soldiers are enjoying a leisurely breakfast around campfires. At the sound of our approaching hooves, though, they scramble for their weapons and horses, but the element of surprise is definitely on our side.

There are three large caged wagons in the middle of the encampment. I am still at a distance, but I’ve yet to see any signs of life. There are no hands outstretched from between the bars, no voices calling out for salvation.

The White knights roar their battle cry in unison. And then, much to my surprise, the Diamond battle cry is added. Trees lining nearby groves shudder in their wake, and more mopish, mimsy birds explode frantically into the sky.

I draw my sword, flipping it in my grip. I yell out to Victor, “Get ready! This is no sparring practice!”

I’m gifted a quick, sharp nod. He does not go for his gun, though. A sword is drawn from his side, too. And then I count down from
ten, nine, eight
. . . Hearts horns are sounding.
Six, five . . .
One of the enemy officers is bellowing, but we’ve given them no time for preparation.
Three, two—

The two armies crash into one another. The scent of blood is immediate.

Our pikemen quickly dismount; their well-trained horses flee to the edge of the clearing. Blades are activated, and the screaming begins.

I’m viciously pleased by the sounds.

The green raths with their shark-like mouths attack the King, but he and my blade dispatch them as if they were mimsies. The Hearts pikemen abandon their stations by the caravans and join in the fray, but they are quickly overtaken by the Whites. At first, I am stunned, but then it occurs to me that the Queen of Hearts must be so desperate, she’s equipping pikemen before they’re ready. Most of these, from what I can tell, are mere boys and girls—even younger than the Five of Diamonds.

As for him, he’s a demon on the field.

I hack my way through the crowd. To my left, Victor does the same. I’m impressed with the doctor, though. Although it’s obvious he’s wary upon the horse, he also refuses to give up. Nearby, the sight of the White King fighting dazzles me. I’ve always thought it appears as if he dances on the battlefield rather than merely fight. My sword in his hand flies, the blade glowing blue as it doles out justice. The battle rages on for many long minutes, but before I know it, another horn sounds.

My relief is immense. It is the sound of a White victory.

The dust settles, and there are three Heart soldiers kneeling before a dismounted White King in the orange grass. All of the rest lay on the ground, blank eyes staring up into the gray morning skies.

“Ferz Eponi?” the King says.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Find me the SleepMist. I wish to have every last bit brought back to our encampment.”

“Yes, my lord.” The Ferz bows and barks out an order for the camp to be searched.

I hand the King the handful of Mindly pills I took from The Land that Time Forgot, ones I remembered to snatch shortly before we mounted. “For our prisoners’ ride back to camp.” The pills will keep the card soldiers deliriously occupied and honest so that they will not be able to recall the exact route we take. Once he accepts my offering, I am off and running toward the carriages, Victor close on my heels. White knights are already hard at work cutting open the locks, but I’m desperate.

And then I’m horrified. The closer I get to the cages, the more I see that bodies are piled upon other bodies. All asleep, or dead, I cannot tell. The jubjub bird was right, though. No blood is visible, but it does nothing to lessen the chill of mine.

The first padlock is snapped off. I’m up the steps to the caravan, frantic in my search through the bodies. There are children here, teenagers. The elderly, too. Sheep and Rabbits, Toads and Dodos. There are even a handful of Lizards. Victor searches the next caravan, but neither of us can find Mary or Finn in the stacks upon stacks of sleeping bodies.