Kingdom of Crowns and Glory

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Kingdom of Crowns and Glory Page 54

by Laura Greenwood et al.


  “Listen, I know who you are, Julian. You’re Prince Julian of Sarastland. I didn’t recognize you either, at first, but that was probably because I was so dizzy from all this…Can you blame me? Can you blame yourself…? I won’t! After all this…I hardly remember my own name! I do recognize you now that you told me, though you look a little different. But I guess we didn’t see each other that much except as little children. Remember the cellars? I remember the cellars. Imagining ghosts and running from them, scared as anything.” I smiled, remembering it. Julian nodded, with a rascal smile starting to play on his lips.

  “Right…That was fun.”

  “”Wasn’t it!”

  “Yeah…Okay, now are you ready to tell me what happened here?”

  “The horned witch enchanted me, but it was actually a good thing…I had a death curse on me. By bringing me here, she was able to modify that magic, that’s what it was. But she had to make a deal with a demon, for that…That’s why she had those horns. And she was still willing to do it, because she felt so guilty for the accident that happened at my christening…It’s a little complicated, but she explained it…She didn’t mean to curse me as a baby, she meant to give a lesson to my father. She saved me from a death curse, Julian. And that’s how I’ve been here, dreaming.”

  Dreaming, indeed. I didn’t dare ask Julian about our adventures. Was it all in my head? Don’t tell me I had been dreaming alone?

  “That’s almost unbelievable, but I mean, I saw the witch…And you know what,” Julian said in a rushed voice. “I’ve seen this castle in a dream. It’s kind of crazy.” He looked like he daren’t tell me everything, either.

  “What kind of a dream?” I held my breath.

  Julian bowed down with his hands in his hair.

  I wanted to let him take his time thinking, coming to terms with this. As I looked around, my eye caught the patch of wild strawberries that had evaded the fires and forces raging in the yard.

  Julian looked up and followed my gaze. And when our eyes met, we saw it on each others’ faces. He remembered. I could see it.

  “No way,” Julian said.

  “Oh, my god. I guess so!”

  “We were…”

  “Yeah! You were a swallow?”

  “What’s a swallow?”

  “The kind of bird you were, sillyhead!”

  “Ah. I just don’t know birds much…And you were a bluebird?”

  “Yes!” I screamed. So, he remembered! He did. It was true. We’d been flying as birds. We’d had some crazy adventures. “Although I think, technically, I was a blue tit, but—"

  Julian gave a louder laugh — one single, hilarious laugh. I waved my hands apologetically. That was the actual name of the bird I’d been, so, what was I supposed to do? I’d seen myself in the castle mirrors enough to know what I was. And oh, thinking back made me just so happy. Wow, it had been one scary adventure, but in hindsight, I wouldn’t have given up a moment.

  “Pretty incredible,” Julian said.

  “You can say that again. And wow, do I have a thousand questions for you…”

  Like, why did he keep ‘switching out’ and reappearing? Was he cursed too, and if so, how come? And did he really, really have to leave me just when things got awry on the island? And what was supposedly so important, that he always had to go away? After all, I was there all the time…Oh, I knew these were just my hurt feelings, and they seemed petty in hindsight. Here we were, perfectly safe, no ink black waters underneath.

  There were simply too many questions to know where to start. My head was spinning. Not in the disorienting way the castle’s magic made me feel, though, just overwhelmed. And relieved. And you could almost say, happy. Julian’s deep green eyes looked questioning and apprehensive.

  Yes. We’d had our brush with magic. And fae. And witches and curses and darklings’ evil plans to conquer the world…

  “Oh, for the record,” Julian added with a rascal twinkle in his eyes, “back when we were kids, or like, teens, when I saw you the last time? I forgot to say…I thought she was awesome.”

  I laughed.

  We recognised each other as birds. We knew each other by our bird names. We knew each other’s favourite tree to rest in. Like, what was this madness?

  But I also remembered unwavering friendship. If you fly over an ocean with someone, you can’t not bond…

  And if you fly with shared magic, you simply have a special kind of bond.

  I didn’t want to deny it, even if it made me feel absolutely funny.

  “Back at you,” I said with a grin.

  The Heir to Wonderland by Majanka Verstraete

  Chapter 1

  Three days in Wonderland

  The guards pushed me to my knees, two of them on each side keeping me down. Even though their bodies were made of playing cards, with arms and legs sprouting from the card, and a head of course, they were surprisingly strong.

  One of the cards, the Knave of Clubs, let go of me. He wobbled a few steps ahead of me and knelt down.

  “Your Majesty, Our Queen,” the playing card said. “We have captured her.”

  The Queen was seated on a throne easily three meters high, completely adorned in red and gold. Her own dress was of a matching color, making it almost impossible to see where her dress ended and the throne began, or vice versa.

  The Queen’s black hair was tied back in a complicated updo, pinned to her skull with so many hairclips it was a miracle her skull hadn’t exploded yet from the pressure.

  Her guards, the Army of Cards, had brought me to the throne room, where I would now be submitted to the mercy of Her Majesty, the Queen of Hearts herself.

  Some would say I and my merry band of misfits had been caught. I would argue that rather than get caught, I had made sure I ended up at exactly the right moment, at exactly the right place.

  Things in Wonderland had a way of working out in avour of those who refused to live by the rules. Those who were a little off, a little crazy. Like me.

  “So, my guards have finally caught you,” the Queen said, tilting her head to the left, inspecting me. Considering she was the most fearsome woman in the whole of Wonderland, and some people even refused to say her name out loud, she didn’t seem that impressive from up close.

  In fact, she seemed slightly familiar, although I couldn’t place her. Maybe because I had seen her before, from a distance. Maybe because of the numerous paintings made in her likeliness that were spread all across Wonderland.

  “Looks like they have,” I replied. The dagger tied to my leg pricked into my skin. If only I could get close enough… But with all those guards here, my chances were slim if not non-existent.

  The Queen stood up gracefully, moving from her throne toward me with an elegance I hadn’t expected. She was younger than I had expected too, but her age did nothing to temper her madness. Everyone in Wonderland knew of the mad queen, of her delirious desire for blood, in particular for chopping off heads.

  I struggled against the guard’s restraint, but it was useless. The Queen didn’t even seem remotely afraid that I would somehow break free and harm her. She moved closer toward me, pausing in front of me.

  With a long, elegant finger, she lifted my chin so I would look her straight in the eye.

  A hint of recognition crossed her features, and she gasped. The look of surprise only lasted for a second; she quickly masked it with disdain, but all the same, I had seen it.

  Even worse, I had felt a hint of recognition too. I was sure I had never seen the Queen of Wonderland before in my life, yet at the same time, I was absolutely certain I had seen this woman before.

  Maybe in another life, as the Cheshire Cat always liked to allude to.

  “Alice Carroll,” the Queen of Hearts said, her voice laced with venom. “It’s a merry band of outlaws you have gathered in the Neverever Forest, isn’t it?” If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought there was a hint of amusement in the Queen’s voice. “Too bad none of them are
very good on walking on the right side of the law.”

  The Queen let go of my chin and walked away, turning her back toward me. “Throw her in the dungeon. Have the Jabberwocky sent in for some good, old-fashioned torture to make her spill the beans on her companions.” She waved her hand dismissively, discarding me like one would a dirty napkin.

  “Your Majesty!” I yelled as the playing cards started dragging me away. “I came here because I want to volunteer!”

  The Queen turned around sharply, spinning on her heel so fast one of the cards was knocked back.

  “What did you say?” Her eyes narrowed, and if looks could kill, I would be as dead as a three-day-old corpse now.

  “I said that I came here because I want to volunteer. In the tournament. That’s why I let them catch me.”

  The Queen looked from her guards to me, as if she was trying to decipher whether I was telling the truth or not.

  “I have seven daggers on me, a blade, and a crossbow on my back,” I told her without flinching. The guards, on the other hand, did flinch, and one even completely let go of me, staggering back. “If I came here to wreak havoc, I would’ve done so already.”

  A small smile played on the Queen’s lips, but she didn’t seem taken aback by my sneaking so many weapons past her guards. Maybe I had underestimated how stone-cold this woman was, how unafraid.

  “You are aware that the Tournament equals almost certain death?” The Queen of Hearts asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “You know the stakes?”

  “I’m well aware.”

  The Queen gestured for the playing cards to let go of me, which they obeyed immediately. Only the Knave of Clubs didn’t look too pleased that he had to give up his prized fugitive, he looked so sad you would’ve thought someone had just run over his puppy.

  “You think you will succeed where everyone else failed?” The Queen raised an eyebrow, not in the least impressed. “I’ve seen many men stronger than you, many women wiser than you, all of whom failed this test. You think you have a chance, little girl?”

  I shrugged. “I think everyone has a chance, Your Highness.”

  The Queen seemed to contemplate this for a moment while she scrutinized me from top to bottom. Something about this woman was eerily familiar, while at the same time I was absolutely certain I had never seen her before.

  I made a mental note I should ask the Cheshire Cat about it, once I returned home to the Neverever Wood.

  If I ever returned home.

  “Very well then,” the Queen of Hearts said, clapping her hands. “If you die at my executioner’s axe or die during the Tournament, it means no difference to me. The latter might even provide more entertainment.”

  “I don’t plan on dying, Your Highness.”

  The Queen let out a cackling laugh. “I’ve heard so many brave men and women say something along those lines, I’ve already lost count.” She waved at the guards. “Bring her to the bunk rooms, prepare her for the Tournament. Tomorrow, Alice Carroll of the Neverever Wood will enter the Wonderland Tournament.”

  The Queen clapped her hands, and the guards immediately sprang into action, following her commands.

  While they ushered me way, out of the throne room, I shot one last look at the Queen of Hearts as she sat back down on her throne.

  The most powerful woman in the whole of Wonderland and in that moment, as she sat there all alone, practically drowning in her oversized throne, she seemed like the loneliest woman on earth.

  Chapter 2

  One Day Before Wonderland

  You’re probably wondering how I got here in the first place. At the Castle of Roses, formerly known as the Red Palace, about to participate in the Tournament.

  A lot of fancy, capitalized names, but they probably don’t ring any bells to you.

  Let me see; I should probably start at the beginning.

  Then, the Cheshire Cat would say something witty, like how there is never really a beginning, and how all beginnings and endings are exactly the same. He always liked being cryptical in that way.

  Before I tell you all about how I ended up enrolling for the Tournament, only the most dangerous, life-threatening, one-hundred-percent kill rate competition in Wonderland, I better tell you all about how I ended up in Wonderland in the first place.

  It all started four days ago, when my best friend Heather and I, were dress-shopping for prom. It seemed like every other day at first, except we were all giddy and excited because prom was the best thing ever, and we had looked forward to it for the entire year already.

  My expectations for that day were pretty lowkey, in retrospect: I wanted to go to prom, dance with Finn, the hottest guy in our class, get wasted on punch which was supposed to be non-alcohol but would obviously be spiked with one or more alcoholic liquids, and have a blast with Heather.

  The first sign that should’ve told me something was amiss, should’ve been when I encountered a white rabbit in the dress shop.

  A white rabbit isn’t so strange, you say?

  Imagine said rabbit, but dressed up in a smart suit, carrying a pocket watch and yelling, in perfectly understandable English, No time to say hello, goodbye, I’m late, I’m late, I’m late!

  It happened when I had just exited one of the fitting rooms, wearing a gorgeous blue dress that hugged my curves in all the right places. I was inspecting myself in the mirror, glancing left and right to get a good look at my attire. If I wanted to impress Finn, then I really had to go all out. He was a star football player, and all the girls in our school were swooning all over him, so he could get any girl he wanted, which meant it was half a miracle that he had asked me to be his date to prom. After this god-sent miracle, I couldn’t show up looking like a pinata.

  “What do you think?” Heather asked, as she wobbled out of the fitting room. The dress clung so tight to her body that she could barely move her legs.

  “I think that dress is way too tight,” I told her. “Two hours in this, and you’ll faint on the dance floor.”

  Heather, driven by her usual stubbornness, dragged herself over to the mirror and grimaced the moment she saw herself in the ill-fitting dress.

  “All right, you may have a point,” she admitted. “Now, the question is, how do I get out of this thing again?” She turned and shuffled back toward the fitting room.

  As my best friend vanished for another round of dress-fitting, I saw something rush past, to my right, too fast for my eyes to catch what it was, but it was definitely too small to be human.

  Oh my God. Was there an animal in here?

  If that was a gigantic rat, then I was going to run out of the shop in the very dress I was wearing now, and my regular clothes would be casualties of war—no way I was going back into the fitting room when a giant rat lay in wait to jump on me any second.

  Not wanting to alarm Heather just yet, I peeked around the corner to where the rat, or whatever it was, had disappeared, hoping to see a fast-crawling baby, or maybe a kitten or something. Literally anything would trump gigantic-rat-invasion.

  Nothing. Just rows and rows of clothes and sparkly dresses.

  Still, I had seen something skitter away. I was pretty sure it wasn’t just a trick of light, or my eyes playing tricks on me.

  Hesitantly, I stepped into the corridor, glancing left and right while my heart beat in my chest at about a million miles per hour. Please don’t be a giant rat. Please don’t be a giant rat.

  Tiny footsteps resonated from my left, and I froze dead in my tracks. The sound was too skittish to be human.

  I turned my head in slow-motion, every movement seeming to take an eternity, until I was completely turned toward the very spot where I had heard the sound.

  Taking a deep breath, I braced myself for the potential attack of murder-rat, the serial killer slash rat who had a thing for girls about to go to prom and wearing blue dresses. In one quick motion, I pulled back a row of dresses, revealing…

  Something even more startling than my s
elf-invented murder-rat.

  A rabbit.

  I swallowed hard, trying to make sense of what my eyes were seeing. But before I could get a better look at the rabbit, it hurried away again, muttering something below its breath.

  Muttering?

  Since when did rabbits mutter?

  And since when did rabbits wear clothes?

  “Hey, wait!” I shouted, racing after the critter. Naturally, the rabbit was a lot more agile than I was, jumping from one row of clothes to another easily, vanishing behind piles of dresses only to reappear on another pile.

  “Wait!” I yelled at the rabbit again, which was stupid because rabbits didn’t understand human words anyway, but I was hoping the animal would get the sentiment of what I meant.

  Turned out it didn’t, because all my attempts did was upset the rabbit even more, so he started running around faster and faster.

  I stopped to catch my breath, panting as I held on to the wall for support. My condition is terrible. I should really join the gym.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  I turned to face Heather, whose frown was so deep it would probably leave a wrinkle. Her blonde hair was all messy from trying on different dresses.

  “There’s a rabbit in here,” I explained, in between gasping for breath. “I’m trying to catch it.”

  “You don’t say. I thought you had just finished running a marathon.” She patted me on the back, and offered me some chewing gum. Chewing gum was Heather’s number one temptation. Her mother never allowed her candy when she grew up, so Heather had developed an almost-unhealthy chewing gum obsession.

  “No, thanks,” I said. “I’m good.” I stood up straight again, stretching my back.

  “Why are you trying to catch a rabbit anyways?” Heather seemed mildly annoyed I had ditched her back in the fitting rooms to go on my wild goose chase—or wild rabbit chase, to be more precise.

 

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