Broken Glass (The Wanderland Chronicles #2), page 21
Fear lodged in Alice’s throat, but she swallowed it down to challenge the disgusting man’s stare. She flipped her blade, appreciating its comforting weight. “That makes two of us,” she taunted, twisting her lips into a defiant smile.
Ace’s eyes narrowed and he raised his axe to charge. Alice evaded and stuck out her leg to trip him, but Ace sidestepped, moving more gracefully than she would have expected for a man of his size.
“You’re going to have to do better than that.”
Ace bellowed and hurtled toward her, his axe whistling through the air in a terrifying helicopter twist. A cool breeze kissed her cheeks as the blade swung past and a red-coated figure charged the Battle Marshal from behind, tackling him in a flash gold. Ace cursed and swiped at Nate with the deadly weapon still firmly in his grip.
Nate scrambled to his feet, revealing his own weapon, a beautiful onyx short-sword. Like most of Wanderland’s weapons it was custom made, and deadly from many angles. One side of the gleaming blade was hewn into a razor-point, while the other edge was bluntly serrated with hundreds of tiny teeth. No matter how it hit, it would hurt.
The Queen’s Marshals circled each other, coiled and ready to strike, searching for their opponent’s weakness with murder in their eyes.
“Sure you want to do this, little prince?” Ace’s lips curled in a sneer as his muscles bunched to strike. “Auntie isn’t here to fight your battles for you.”
“I know,” Nate replied with a dazzling smile. “Which means she can’t stop me from killing you.” He struck forward in a dazzling burst of agility, stabbing forward with his sword. Ace parried the blow and swung, putting Nate on the defensive as he narrowly missed his mark.
Ace laughed, his eyes blazing with barely restrained rage. “Nice try, Guard Marshal. Too bad you d—”
Nate didn’t let him finish. He slashed his sword in a mad charge, catching the gloating Marshal off-guard. The wicked blade sliced across Ace’s torso and embedded deep in the colossal guard’s stomach. Ace screamed and hurled his axe at Nate, but the extensive damage to his vital organs had already began to shut his body down. Ace fell to the ground and Nate ripped the heavy axe from his grip, then with a mighty swing, sliced through the Battle Marshal’s meaty neck to bury the blade deep into the rocky ground. Ace’s body stilled and Nate released the massive wooden handle, his mouth drawn into a hard line as he stared at the viscera around the Battle Marshal’s devastating axe; a grotesque version of the sword in the stone.
Nate stood transfixed, lost in burning thoughts. Alice stepped toward Nate and reached out her hand to rest it on his shoulder. He stiffened under her touch, continuing to look at Ace until the storm cleared from his crystal eyes. Finally, he turned to Alice, his face chiseled stone.
“Looks like we’re even,” Alice suggested, offering a weak smile. Nate’s jaw loosened, but his posture remained taut. His gaze was haunted as he pressed her silver hair behind her shoulder.
“Only if you want us to be,” Nate whispered, tracing his knuckles along her cheek. Warring emotions laced his features before he dipped his head, looking incredibly sad. Finally, he met her gaze, his storming eyes clouded with regret. His frown deepened as he turned toward Dinah and the Queen.
“I don’t know who that is anymore,” he admitted, watching the two queens circle each other. “But maybe you can still save her.” With a resolute nod, he was gone, rushing to the defense of Eden’s small army, fighting alongside Lilith’s camouflaged men to push back the advancing momerath.
Maybe you can still save her.
Alice gripped her blade and scanned the field, searching for her sister. She danced through the battlefield, deflecting momerath and Tulgey soldiers alike, determined to reach her sister. She pushed stubbornly through the chaos until her path cleared and she saw Dinah, steadily backing the Queen toward the bridge.
Though the Queen’s face was red with fatigue, her eyes were bright; clearly not beaten. Dinah was on the offense, lashing and swiping until she connected her hit. The Queen cried as her leg buckled, then twisted to unholster a small black pistol hidden in her jacket. In an impressive surge of speed, she released it with a loud crack.
In what seemed like slow motion, Dinah staggered back as a bloody stain spread across her chest. Blinking, she stumbled to a stop, craning her neck to observe the wound. With a spine-tingling chatter, her clawed hand burrowed into her graying skin until she raised it over her head, revealing the tiny bullet. With a grotesque smile, Dinah discarded it and leered wickedly at the Queen. A cold shiver ran through Alice’s body—for a moment, she forgot she was looking at her sister.
For the first time, the Queen’s sure façade dropped and Alice saw fear shining in her eyes.
Dinah did, too.
She hissed a terrible laugh before flinging her arms in a chilling roar. It echoed through the field, stopping everything in its wake. Even the momerath faltered, their attention turning to pay homage to the monster in the middle. They withdrew from the carcasses of their victims to creep towards Dinah, converging in a single unit to circle the Queen.
The Queen recoiled, paling all the way from her plunged neckline to the roots of her blazing crimson hair as the momerath advanced, surrounding her in a gray horde.
Dinah hissed and the monsters skittered back, opening their circle. They chattered nervously, filling the field with an eerie thrum as they watched Dinah expectantly. She prowled toward the Queen, who stood defiantly in the center of the undead ring, only the flash of her dark eyes betraying fear. With a low, furious growl, Dinah leaned toward the Queen.
“Checkmate.”
A delighted jabber escaped her throat and Dinah struck, corkscrewing the Queen’s flailing limbs around her body. She struck again and the Queen’s arm ripped loose, sending a ghost pain down Alice’s mended arm.
Again, Dinah struck.
And again and again, until the Queen was no more than a broken, bloody heap. Dinah stood over the body doggedly, breathing heavily while the monsters around her chittered anxiously at the massacre. With a final roar, Dinah scooped up the Queen and flung her over the high chain link fence surrounding the bridge. The Queen hit the murky water and the crocodiles lurking inside swooped to claim their prey. In moments, not a shred of the Queen remained.
A shocked pause hovered in the air as the snapping jaws of the scaled beasts stilled. Then the field erupted, the silence swallowed in a deafening roar as Dinah and her momerath screeched in victory. United, their faces reached for the sky, a terrifying gray army.
Alice gripped her blade, preparing to fight the slavering horde as one by one, the momerath finished their ferocious battle cry and scanned the field, keyed with nervous energy. Their jaws snapped eagerly as they shuffled in place, awaiting Dinah’s final cry. She curled in on herself as the force of her roar ripped from her body, then slowly straightened to stalk to the center of the field, her eyes ringed in blood as she surveyed the massacred army.
With a wide sweep of her arms, she let out another terrifying screech and the momerath began to retreat, escaping from the holes they forged on their way into Eden. Dinah gave one last horrifying look at Alice before turning to lead her new army.
“Dinah!”
Alice surged forward, racing through the chaotic jumble of human and undead bodies trying to reach her sister. She was almost to Dinah when a large, bloodied momerath with a gaping hole in its cheek screeched and attacked. It pulled the attention of the nearby momerath, and they turned to join in, chittering nervously as they advanced on Alice.
With a roar, they attacked and Alice rebutted, slashing through their decaying limbs as fast as she could. She sliced through two, cutting them down by the legs and immobilizing them before whirling to face the original aggressor. It glared at her hungrily before letting out another ravenous yowl. Then, with a surprising burst of speed, it shot forward, streaming toward Alice in a deadly charge. Alice tensed, ready to strike when another figure jumped in front of her, cutting the momerath to a grinding halt.
Alice’s heart leapt to her throat as Dinah stiffened and turned, entrancing her in her new, bloody gaze. Around her, several momerath paused and fell in beside her, bolstering the wall between Alice and the hulking momerath. She glanced over Dinah to the paralyzed momerath, studying the creature’s strange behavior. It paced nervously, gnashing its teeth as it glared at her, but it would not approach. Confused, Alice turned to Dinah, who watched her silently behind her vacant stare.
“Dinah,” Alice breathed, uncertain of the stability in her voice. “Come with us. We can help you.”
Dinah emitted a soft jabber and cocked her head to study Alice, her eyes inexpressibly sad. “No, Alice,” she rumbled, standing tall between the clustering monsters. More momerath had gathered around, their hunched forms pressing close to Dinah as they chittered anxiously to each other, their hungry stares fixed on Alice. Dinah released a warning growl into their huddled formation and they shrank back, watching eagerly as Dinah crept closer to Alice. “I don’t belong here anymore.”
A bloody tear rolled down Dinah’s cheek before she released a final shuddering howl. The attending momerath dropped in a distorted bow, resting their heads against the ground reverently until Dinah tore across the field, abandoning Alice to Eden. Her momerath trailed behind, filling the arena with the echoes of a thousand chatters as they retreated, leaving the battlefield filled with dazed soldiers. After the arena cleared, the surviving Jokers glanced uncertainly around the field before slowly falling back, their weapons raised defensively as they withdrew among the momerath, leaving Eden huddled in silent shock.
Alice’s gaze fixed on the crumbling entrance, her mind filled with the deafening hum of a million thoughts. Soft footsteps cut through the roar as Chess moved to stand silently beside her.
“She’s gone,” Alice murmured, tears welling her eyes. “She’s theirs now.”
Chess pressed a hand to her shoulder. He began to speak, but his slurred words didn’t match the tempo of his dancing lips. Alice blinked to clear her blurring vision, but the world tilted and everything went gray. The last thing she remembered before the world disappeared was Chess’ wide amber eyes watching with worry as she sagged into his arms.
“Don’t worry, Princess,” he whispered. Cool fingertips traced her blazing cheek. “I’m here.”
Alice was jolted awake by the sharp bump of tires against a hardened desert pothole.
“Slow down, Luke!” Chess groaned. “You’re going to break her even more than she already is!”
“Sorry,” Luke apologized, and Alice tipped forward dangerously as he hit the brakes in overcompensation.
“Luke!”
The severity in Chess’ voice lanced through her skull. Alice clenched her eyes tighter, wishing she could retreat to the black void from which she’d slipped. Now she was awake and she could remember.
Dinah.
“Shhhh, Princess, it’s okay.” Her cheek tickled as Chess stroked her hair from her face. The tender gesture surprised her and she flinched, startling his cool touch. Alice wished it would come back.
“Are we there yet?” Chess’ question was strained. “She’s still losing blood.”
“Almost,” Luke promised. “Miss Fawn’s lab is just around this bend.”
“You hear that, Princess?” Chess whispered. “Almost home.” His thumb gently brushed her cheek and Alice stayed perfectly still, allowing his warmth to seep through her, his golden energy keeping the dark thoughts from overtaking her.
The tires skidded to a stop against loose gravel. Alice was jostled again as Luke slid from the cart to help Chess lift her from the seat. The motion hurt, but she was comforted by the scent of cinnamon as she snuggled into Chess’ strong arms. He gripped her tightly as he ran, his footsteps impossibly quiet as he followed Luke through the gardens.
“Fawn!” Chess yelled as he ran, clutching Alice in his grip. “We need your help! It’s Alice—she’s hurt!”
Alice tried to force her eyes open, to explain that she was alright, but she was so tired. Her stubborn eyelids fluttered then shut as the welcoming haze returned and she slipped back, embracing the comforting darkness.
“She keeps going in and out,” Chess’ worried report was low but clear. A small shiver ran through Alice as her groggy mind registered the cool air compounded by the chill of the metal paneling underneath her. Her body ached and her throat screeched for water, but she lay in place, exhaustion oozing into every part of her body.
“Will she be okay?”
“It’s hard to tell,” Fawn admitted. “She’s experienced a lot of trauma. We’ll do our best, but it will take a miracle. If the momerath’s blood mixed with hers. . .”
“It didn’t,” Chess snapped. “And she doesn’t need a miracle. She is one.”
The jarred fragments of their conversation confused Alice. Chess and Fawn spoke in disjointed pieces, as if they had their own secret code. A few times, she let go and sank into her murky dreams before stirring to another splintered exchange between them. Finally, she rallied enough strength to chase away the haze and forced her eyes open.
As she suspected, she was lying on the tall table in the center of Fawn’s indoor garden. She stirred on the platform, squinting her eyes against the dim fluorescent bulbs. The room was quiet, and she thought she was alone until she saw Chess slumped over the tabletop, his ashen head nestling near her side, resting on his hands as he snored. Not wanting to disturb him, Alice tried to silently prop herself on her elbows, but her motion jerked him awake. With a startled cry, Chess jumped to his feet, his amber eyes drinking her in as if he hadn’t seen her for weeks.
“What happened?” Alice pressed her fingers over her throbbing temple. “Where’s Dinah?”
Chess’ face fell. His mouth parted to answer, but he was interrupted by Fawn bursting through the door.
“Alice,” she breathed, sounding strangely relieved. “You’re alright.”
Alice's furrowing brow lanced a sharp pain through Alice’s head. She winced and braced her hands over her temples to force it away. “Of course I am,” she grumbled, peering through squinted eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Chess and Fawn exchanged a nervous glance before Chess stepped in and laid a steady hand over her shoulder.
“Because, Princess, you almost died.”
“Come again?” Alice pushed herself straight, but the world rocked and she tilted toward the ground. Chess darted forward and swooped in to catch her before she crashed to the ground.
He righted her petite frame, barking an amused laugh as he stepped back and shook his head at her good-naturedly. “Slow down there, Killer. Let’s work on your balance first.”
“But can we revisit the almost died part?” Alice quipped.
Chess let out another staccato laugh. “As you wish.” He turned to where Fawn hovered over Alice. “Doc?”
Fawn straightened her lab coat. “You arrived in critical condition. You had already lost a lot of blood and were fading in and out of consciousness. We stitched you up as best we could, and somehow got you into a stable condition. However, it was strange—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Alice interrupted, the rush of Fawn’s words making her dizzy again. “Stable? We?” Her brow creased before the door slammed open and a tall blond man strode in.
“That was only three hours ago,” he offered clinically, examining her with cool blue eyes. “Yet now, you’re completely healed.”
Thick silence hung in the air as Alice glanced from her friends to her estranged father. She looked back at the detached man who studied her with smoldering curiosity.
“How did you manage that?” he asked carefully.
“Dr. Carroll, I’m not sure this is the time…” Fawn began.
“This is the perfect time, Dr. Thomas,” her father’s dispassionate voice answered.
Alice’s eyes narrowed and Chess stepped forward, forcing Carroll back. “I think that’s up for Alice to decide,” he growled, his expression darkening to a dangerous scowl.
Carroll emitted a bored sigh. “While your concern for my daughter is touching,” his words were as impersonal as a diagnosis, and they scratched against Alice’s nerves, “we have more important things to deal with right now than adolescent emotions.” He stepped around Chess to stand at Alice’s makeshift bedside.
“I must admit, the rate at which you’ve healed is remarkable.” He checked the bandages wrapped around her shoulder. “Almost superhuman.” He peeked under the wraps and tipped his eyes to meet hers.
She returned his curious gaze with a sullen stare. “And?”
He smirked. “And, I’m very interested to know how long you’ve been able to do this.”
Alice’s mouth flew open to toss a flippant retort, then paused. How long had she been able to do that? She’d never noticed any ‘super-healing’ before, but then, she’d never been seriously injured. Nothing more than Dinah could easily tend to, anyway. Of course, she’d had small scratches and bruises, but those healed quickly on everyone—didn’t they?
She shifted uncomfortably under Carroll’s scrutiny and shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Carroll’s lips pressed in a tight line, and Fawn stepped forward to stand beside him. Her voice was soft, almost awed as she looked at Alice. “We’re talking about you being something very special,” she revealed.
Alice’s gaze hardened as her protective walls crashed into place. She didn’t know what they wanted, but she was sure she couldn’t give it to them. “I thought I might have been once,” she said, “but after I ruined Dinah, I knew it was just wishful thinking.”
Fawn’s brow quirked. “After you ruined Dinah? Your sister got sick. Nothing you did could have helped that.”
Alice huffed a bitter laugh. “If only that were true,” she moaned.
Confusion masked Fawn’s features. Alice’s scowl turned into a wry smile as she glanced from the baffled doctors to where Chess stood beside her. “I guess there are still some secrets in Eden,” she confessed after a heavy breath. “Do you want to tell them, or should I?”
