Dinah stood alone in the darkness, feeling not unlike the cranes—swallowed whole by this room, by the throne, by her father, and the palace. She longed to rule—to take the seat next to her father, and she, the Queen of Hearts, would rule over them with strength and courage—but she feared what it would take to get there. It was her right to sit on the throne. When she married, her father would not easily give up his throne to her husband. Her black eyes narrowed as she stared up at the brilliant red window, red light cast on her face. The altar seemed to pulse with crimson.
When I am Queen
, she told herself,
all my doubts will disappear, and my father will embrace me again. He will see that I was born to be a Queen, and I will be a better Queen than he was a King.
Dinah heard the soft padding of footsteps, and something changed in the air. A soft ripple moved the banners and tapestries that draped the wall, and Dinah was suddenly filled with the dreadful sense that someone was watching her. She turned, but there was only darkness around her—an empty, holy space, and only the eyes of the gods were upon her. She gave a sniff. The air smelled strange—a heady mix of earth and brawn. Behind her, a door clicked and she heard sauntering footsteps echoing through the chapel.
Wardley.
She sighed with relief and reluctantly turned her back to the altar and walked the long length of the aisle until she was parallel to the door. With only the moonlight that filtered in from the red heart window, her strong hands found the wooden ladder that led up to The Box. Dinah gave a soft groan and lifted herself up onto the bottom rung. Wardley poked his face out from the top of the ladder.
“Hurry up! You are slower than a moss-eating bug.”
Dinah shot him an angry look and continued to carefully climb, splinters driving into her bare feet. Once she reached the top, she was greeted with the hint of a foul stench: waste, oil, and rotting vegetables—the smells of poverty. Whoever was supposed to clean The Box after the last event, didn’t. Standing, she brushed her fingers through her tangled hair and straightened her cloak. Wardley stood in front of her, dressed in his practice clothes—a loose white linen shirt, dark-red pants, and black riding boots. His shirt was opened across the chest, and Dinah could see the gleam of his sweaty skin in the moonlight. Her heart knocked tricky in her chest and she forced herself to look away.
Wardley gave her a quick hug. “Ugh, you smell awful.”
Dinah punched his arm. “It’s The Box. Stop it.”
“That felt like a swift breeze blowing over my skin,” he chided, smiling. Dinah felt the earth tremble. “Try again.”
He held out his arm. Dinah struck him with all her might. He winced. “Alright, that did actually hurt. Keep working on your sword arm. Someday, your father will train you to use the Heartsword.”
“Not likely, but it’s a nice sentiment.”
They sat together on a tattered wooden bench that reeked of fish.
“So, what did you need to tell me?” Wardley asked. “Did you need something? Are you in trouble? You should have just come to the stables in a few days. It’s a lot easier than sneaking around here. Have you noticed that there are Heart Cards everywhere now? It’s getting ridiculous, all the men that bear the uniform now. Your father doesn’t care anymore if they are qualified or good men; he just wants bodies in cloaks.” Wardley made a disgusted sound. The constant lowering of requirements to become a Heart Card was something that he lamented often.
“At least they’re not Spades.”
He looked over at her and saw the seriousness in her eyes. His smile faded. “Dinah, what is it?”
Dinah brought her face close to Wardley’s ear. Just being this near him made it hard to breathe, but they had much to talk about. To any observer, they would look like young lovers, whispering words of endearment. “Yesterday someone gave me a note. It was at the feast, and it was slipped into my berry loaf. It said ‘Eat Me.’”
Wardley pulled back from her, his face riddled with concern. He took her face in his hands and tilted it so that he could look clearly at her. “You didn’t eat it, did you? Dinah, that could have been poison.”
Dinah shook her head. “No, no, of course not. I didn’t eat it. But I did break it open. And this was inside.” She reluctantly pulled back from him, and removed the tiny vial from her cloak pocket. “There used to be a piece of paper inside of it. I read it, and then I ate that.”
Wardley’s eyes widened.
She continued. “On the note it said, ‘Faina Baker, The Black Towers.’ And then it had a triangle symbol.”
Wardley looked at the ceiling, considering. “Faina Baker, I’ve never heard that name before. Have you?”
Dinah shook her head. “Never. I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon, but no. I’ve never heard of her either.”
Wardley took the tiny vial out of her fingers and peered at it in the moonlight. “What do you think it means?”
Dinah wrung her hands together. “I truly don’t know, but I can’t shake the feeling that it’s something important.”
“You can’t know that, Dinah. This could be a trap. Someone plotting against the King, someone plotting against YOU. Your father has many enemies. It could be a Yurkei assassin.”
“I know that. I do.” She pulled herself closer to him, her skin pressing against his, her mouth against his ear. “I can’t explain it, but I need to find her. Faina. This note wasn’t sent in malice, I can FEEL that.”
Wardley took her hand in his and a million stars shot over her skin. “Dinah, I know you want to believe this. I just don’t know if it is wise. Your coronation grows closer every day, and maybe this is just you being nervous about taking the throne.”
Dinah lifted her black eyes and stared at his face. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course. You are my best friend,” he assured her, giving a nervous laugh, caught off guard by her intensity.
“Then help me do this. Wardley, something is amiss. I can feel it. There is a lurking, a presence, a danger, something
BAD
is happening. And someone is trying to help us. I NEED to speak with Faina Baker, and I need your help to do it.”
Wardley shook his head. “Getting into the Black Towers will be impossible. You’re the Princess; they track your every move. And even if they didn’t, you can’t just break into the Black Towers. They’re swarming with Clubs.” He lowered his voice. “And gods know what wickedness we will find in there. You’ve heard the stories. Some things can never be erased from one’s mind. The Black Towers are a place of violence. Torture. Sickness. The depravity of the kingdom is held there, and you’re willing to risk all that, just for a name. A name that might mean nothing; nothing more than a traitor waiting in the dark with a dagger behind his back. Do you truly believe this woman has all the answers? What answers are you seeking? And if she does, why is she in the Black Towers?”
He gave a sigh. “Dinah, listen to me. Criminals go to the Black Towers. Criminals and liars and murderers and people that your father needs to disappear. It is not a place for a princess.” He kissed her knuckle chastely. “My dear friend and future Queen, please abandon this.”
Dinah’s head was swirling. She hadn’t considered all the things that Wardley had said, but it didn’t matter. She knew the slithering feeling making its way up her spine, day by day. “As the Princess of Wonderland, I order you to help me.”
Wardley gave her an exasperated look. “You wouldn’t do that. Besides, I don’t have to listen to you. You’re not the Queen yet.”
“But I will be.”
“And on that day, I will listen to you.”
Through the filtered moonlight, Dinah looked at him—her friend, her playmate. Someday maybe her lover. “I cannot do this without you, Wardley. We’ve always dreamed and imagined what the Black Towers would look like; well, here’s our chance.”
Wardley abruptly stood, grabbing her roughly by the shoulder. “This isn’t a game, Dinah. This isn’t us playing ‘Black Towers’ in the rose garden, ducking behind the bushes. There could be serious consequences. Do you want to lose your crown? Do you want me to lose my head?”
Dinah dropped her head with a whisper. “I know I am asking too much of you. But this is something I must do, with or without you. There is something else. The symbol on the note; the triangle made of waves? I’ve seen it before.”
With a finger, Dinah drew the symbol in the dirt-lined floor. Wardley looked at it blankly. “What is that?”
“It took me all night to remember, but I know where I’ve seen this symbol before. It’s etched in the tunnels below the palace. I remember, there were three hidden tunnels. One led to the Great Hall, one led to just outside the gates on the east side, and there was another one marked with this emblem.” She pointed to it. “Before I thought it was a picture of a mountain—the Yurkei Mountains—a sign marking that the tunnel went in that direction. But I was wrong. It’s the symbol for the Black Towers. I think that tunnel leads into the Black Towers.”
Wardley scratched his chin, stubble already starting to grow back from that morning’s shave. “But how can we be sure?”
“We can’t.”
“And we wouldn’t know which tower Faina Baker was in to begin with.”
“That’s correct.”
Wardley now paced angrily, his boots stirring up a small dust cloud. Dinah could see that he was actively fighting his own curiosity. “How would we even get into the Great Hall? It’s guarded round the clock. Just for my amusement, let’s say we get in there, and then we use the tunnels to get in. Then what? We can’t just stroll around the Black Towers, the Princess and I, out for a tour.”
“We can take care of that,” breathed Dinah. “I have a plan.”
“Let’s just say that we get in. We find Faina Baker in one of SEVEN towers. We talk to her, have some tea, she tells us all sorts of secrets. Then what? We just stroll out onto the Iron Web? Make our way back to the tunnels?”
Dinah gave a shrug. “We have a lot to plan; I’m not saying it will be easy.”
“Easy? It’s madness. This is a suicide mission. And for what?”
Dinah raised herself up from the bench and took his arm gently. “For the future Queen to have the upper hand before her coronation. For not wondering, ‘What if?’ For answers that have never been given to me, and never will be. For the possibility of understanding
something
about this place.”
“And if I lose my head?” Wardley asked.
“Then I will be very sorry,” she said. “It is a lovely head.”
She placed her hand on his cheek. She felt so near to him; his physical presence was overwhelming. She took in his hot breath washing over her face, the sweat shimmering on his brow, his curly chocolate hair pushed haphazardly back from his forehead. Without thinking, she pressed her lips against his. They were cool and soft, and hers felt warm and hungry against them. White lights exploded underneath Dinah’s eyelids and she opened her mouth slightly under his. His lips remained still as he jerked back in surprise, his hands on her shoulders.
“Dinah, I—” He didn’t have time to finish. Something moved in the darkness below. They heard the shuffling of feet, an unexplained whoosh of air. The ladder gave a wooden creak. In one rapid movement, Wardley drew his sword and pushed Dinah protectively behind him. His blade gleamed in the moonlight. “Someone’s here,” he whispered. “Don’t move. Stay behind me.”
Fear froze them both as a chill crept upon Dinah’s skin, a breath caught in her throat. Neither of them moved for several minutes, barely daring to breathe. From the darkness, the sounds of long, easy breaths drifted up the ladder. And then, just when the sound of her roaring heart was so loud she was sure it was drowning out the entire palace, the presence disappeared. The malignant air was sucked out of the room, although the feeling of being watched lingered. Dinah wondered if whoever it was had been there the entire time. Wardley replaced his sword.
“They’re gone. They couldn’t have heard us, could they?”
Dinah shook her head. Suddenly, there was a bang, and they both jumped toward each other as the doors of the Heart Chapel burst open and three Cards marched in for their nightly rounds. Dinah and Wardley ducked down into The Box to avoid being seen. She felt a rush of relief at the Cards’ presence, even though she lay on the stinking floor to avoid their gaze. Wardley looked over at her with wide eyes.
“There was someone there,” he whispered. “I heard him.”
Dinah gave a nod. Wardley gave her a look of defeat, his face coated with a fine layer of brown dust. “Fine,” he hissed. “I’ll go to the Black Towers with you, but I’m not going to enjoy it. You’re right—something is amiss. I hear whispers at the stables, and amongst the Cards. A Spade told me that the King fears for his life and is gathering his Cards all around him. But why?”
“You’ll go with me then?”
Wardley nodded, his ear cocked, listening to the watch. Dinah was glad to see them go, but the mortification of kissing him slowly returned now that the danger had gone.
“Wardley, I’m sorry about the—”
He cut her off. “Don’t worry about it.”
They heard the doors to the chapel slam shut, and suddenly they were alone again. Wardley grabbed her hand and yanked Dinah to her feet. “It’s time to go. Now.” They climbed quickly down the ladder, Wardley wrapping his arms around Dinah’s waist at the bottom and putting her on the ground. “Go, now. Go back to your chambers. Take the servants’ passage. We will talk about this later. Come see me at the stables tomorrow. We are not going to meet here again. Ever. I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”
Dinah didn’t need to be told twice, but she didn’t want to leave him, not now, not while he was so upset. “Wardley, you don’t have to go to the Black Towers. I see now that I shouldn’t have asked you. But I must go. I am not a child anymore, and I need to know what is happening in my kingdom. Can you understand?”
Wardley glanced over at her like she was insane. “If you are going to be the Queen of Hearts,” he deadpanned, “you should try not to be so daft. I have no choice. If you go, I will go. You’re not as good with a sword as you think. Besides, if you die, your father will have my head one way or another. It might as well be for doing something brave.”