The Cat, never fond of Jack of Diamonds, rolled his eyes. “But I do doubt your ability to convince the tribes to fight under me,” Redd observed. “And I live only to prove your doubts unfounded, Your Imperial Viciousness.” “Let’s hope you do.” Turning to the others with what was supposed to be expansiveness, Redd said, “You see, I’m not above helping an unfortunate soul find new purpose in life…so long as it benefits me.”
The next day, Jack of Diamonds led Redd
and her entourage out from the shadows of Boarderland’s Glyph
Cliffs. Arch’s royal encampment was visible in the middle distance.
“I’ll leave you to introduce yourself to the king,” Jack said,
bowing to Redd. “It’s best if he doesn’t see me.”
“You have exactly seven cycles of the Thurmite moon to carry out
your plan,” Redd informed him. “If you cherish consciousness, do
not fail.” “The next time we meet, the tribes of Boarderland will
be at your disposal,” Jack promised, bowing several more times and
hurrying off.
Redd watched him trot back toward the Glyph Cliffs, then turned
and, with Vollrath, The Cat, Alistaire, and Siren in step behind
her—
“Come,” she said, starting for Arch’s camp. “It’s time to visit one
I called a friend, back when I had use of friends.”
CHAPTER 33
T HE TWIN Wonderland suns had risen full above the horizon, the
Wondertropolis skyline gilded, backlit, with their morning rays. In
the palace courtyard, the sunflowers planted around the war
memorial were yawning and shaking off the dew. Dodge—wide-awake
despite having been up the entire night—was standing at his
father’s grave. “In everything, father, I aspire to do as I believe
you would have done. I know that my behavior reflects on you and,
despite my failings, I hope I’ve made you proud.” The Hereafter
Plant growing from the mulch of Sir Justice’s grave—its blossom the
perfect likeness of the beloved guardsman—bobbed on its stem. “But
this idea that I’m supposed to maintain my proper place in relation
to my queen…” Dodge went on, “I love Alyss, father. Why should her
title demand her to favor the affections of ranking sons when
they’ve done nothing but win the lottery of birth? I won’t ignore
my heart just because it’s not considered proper for a guardsman to
love his queen. I hope you understand.” For the first time this
morning, Dodge looked directly at the Hereafter Plant’s complicated
blossom—the overlaid petals that formed the familiar cheekbones,
the pistil-eyelashes. Even the buds of the eyes were accurate; Sir
Justice’s irises had been precisely that shade of turquoise blue.
“I miss you, dad.”