disintegrate every bone of every
skeleton to dust. And even before she pressed forefinger against
thumb
to douse the numerous fires burning around the catacomb, Sacrenoir was bowing before her. “Forgive my former rudeness, Your Imperial Viciousness. I didn’t realize the extent of your powers, to which mine compare as a candle flame to the great fire of London. If you’ll accept of it from such an undeserving wretch as here kneels before you, I offer you my eternal allegiance.” As Redd considered, she turned to Vollrath. The tutor inclined his head and smiled, having expected his pupil to grant her proper respect all along. “You were right not to subordinate yourself too readily, Master Sacrenoir,” Redd said at length. “I would find no value in the allegiance of a fool ready to give himself up to any old hag of Black Imagination who presented herself. I will accept your allegiance. For now. But if I ever decide you’re useless, you are a dead man.”
“To be killed by you is to be desired more than a life excluded from your service.” “Bravo,” Her Imperial Viciousness laughed with genuine feeling. “Bra-vo!” Hardly ten hours removed from the crystal, Redd Heart had found her first two recruits. And if Vollrath and Sacrenoir were any indication, the army of ex-Wonderlanders and talented earthlings she was determined to amass would be a stronger military than the one she’d used to wrench the crown from Genevieve. With the discipline and single-minded purpose she would instill in troops so gifted in Black Imagination, she would not, could not, fail to overthrow her nauseatingly well-intentioned niece. CHAPTER 19
Doomsine Encampment, Boarderland. Six lunar cycles earlier. W HEN KING Arch learned that the newly crowned Alyss Heart had ordered the annihilation of all Glass Eyes in her realm, his scheming brain went into hyperdrive. He had occupied Boarderland’s throne for more than half his life by remaining several ruthless steps ahead of his enemies. To what particular use he might put an army of Glass Eyes, he wasn’t yet sure. But to have access to such a military force without anyone knowing he had it was an advantage he could not let pass. Lounging in his palace tent with wives numbered eleven, six, seventeen and twenty-eight, all of whom were trying not to look or act depressed, he called Ripkins and Blister to his side. “My ministers have informed me that Alyss is ridding her land of Glass Eyes.” “Her people can’t control them,” confirmed Blister. “Overriding the imperative that Redd embedded in them is harder than she thought,” added Ripkins. “In other words, they’re designed to kill and nothing more.” The bodyguards bowed that this was so.
“Perhaps the trick is not to override their imperative,” Arch mused, “but to reprogram them to acknowledge a different master. Everyone in Wonderland—even the otherwise rebellious Redd Heart—is, was, or always has been occupied with inventing things. But what good are things if there are no clever schemes in which to use them? I put things to unexpected and imaginative use.” The man wasn’t named Arch for nothing. Arch politician. Arch tactician. Arch strategist. By the age of
to douse the numerous fires burning around the catacomb, Sacrenoir was bowing before her. “Forgive my former rudeness, Your Imperial Viciousness. I didn’t realize the extent of your powers, to which mine compare as a candle flame to the great fire of London. If you’ll accept of it from such an undeserving wretch as here kneels before you, I offer you my eternal allegiance.” As Redd considered, she turned to Vollrath. The tutor inclined his head and smiled, having expected his pupil to grant her proper respect all along. “You were right not to subordinate yourself too readily, Master Sacrenoir,” Redd said at length. “I would find no value in the allegiance of a fool ready to give himself up to any old hag of Black Imagination who presented herself. I will accept your allegiance. For now. But if I ever decide you’re useless, you are a dead man.”
“To be killed by you is to be desired more than a life excluded from your service.” “Bravo,” Her Imperial Viciousness laughed with genuine feeling. “Bra-vo!” Hardly ten hours removed from the crystal, Redd Heart had found her first two recruits. And if Vollrath and Sacrenoir were any indication, the army of ex-Wonderlanders and talented earthlings she was determined to amass would be a stronger military than the one she’d used to wrench the crown from Genevieve. With the discipline and single-minded purpose she would instill in troops so gifted in Black Imagination, she would not, could not, fail to overthrow her nauseatingly well-intentioned niece. CHAPTER 19
Doomsine Encampment, Boarderland. Six lunar cycles earlier. W HEN KING Arch learned that the newly crowned Alyss Heart had ordered the annihilation of all Glass Eyes in her realm, his scheming brain went into hyperdrive. He had occupied Boarderland’s throne for more than half his life by remaining several ruthless steps ahead of his enemies. To what particular use he might put an army of Glass Eyes, he wasn’t yet sure. But to have access to such a military force without anyone knowing he had it was an advantage he could not let pass. Lounging in his palace tent with wives numbered eleven, six, seventeen and twenty-eight, all of whom were trying not to look or act depressed, he called Ripkins and Blister to his side. “My ministers have informed me that Alyss is ridding her land of Glass Eyes.” “Her people can’t control them,” confirmed Blister. “Overriding the imperative that Redd embedded in them is harder than she thought,” added Ripkins. “In other words, they’re designed to kill and nothing more.” The bodyguards bowed that this was so.
“Perhaps the trick is not to override their imperative,” Arch mused, “but to reprogram them to acknowledge a different master. Everyone in Wonderland—even the otherwise rebellious Redd Heart—is, was, or always has been occupied with inventing things. But what good are things if there are no clever schemes in which to use them? I put things to unexpected and imaginative use.” The man wasn’t named Arch for nothing. Arch politician. Arch tactician. Arch strategist. By the age of