Page 23

Chapter

Twenty-One

T he ominous clouds loom heavily overhead, their violent crimson hue igniting a sense of foreboding. The charged air prickles my skin, sending shivers down my arms, while the scent of impending rain teases my senses, heavy and electric.

The queen leads me around the edge of the palace until we find a large lawn lined with curious courtiers. Guys wearing playing cards bend backward, creating arches. What an odd position. My spine aches looking at them.

Rose bushes edge the gardens, and more card-wearing gardeners busily slather red paint onto the white roses. At least, I hope it’s paint. Nash growls low, and I raise a brow at him. What is his deal?

The Red Queen waves her hand, and four of the armored guards rush toward us with two unusual-looking creatures.

They’re tall, feathered, and pink, their beady eyes nervously flicking around the scene.

In their opposite hands, the guards carry moving sacks.

I’m not sure I want to know what’s in there.

The Red Queen relinquishes my hand and smirks at her top guards, still staring at me.

Theo’s hand squeezes mine until I yelp. He drops it with a look of horror on his pretty face, and I turn and kiss him on the lips. “I’m okay,” I tell him as I stare into his stunning green gaze.

“We play for the souls of your winged beasts,” the Red Queen declares.

“We will do no such thing,” Nash snaps, clenching his fists.

She slides her eyes over my darkest knight. “You wish to take his place?”

Nash folds his arms. “No souls.”

I’m not sure digging our heels in is going to get us out of this situation.

Theo sneezes, and fire erupts from his mouth. A female courtier’s tall red hair catches alight. She screams and flaps her arms before running in a circle. Oh my Idols, why is no one helping her?

I dash forward and waft my hands in the general direction of the flames while she continues to run in circles. I turn in the opposite direction, and she collides with me, knocking us both to the ground.

“Drop and roll,” I grumble. “Does your kingdom never experience mishaps?” I smack the smoking hair and it flies off her head, rolling across the lawn, blackening the grass.

Holy Blazes. Did I just remove her head? Is that why the Red Queen is always threatening it? They literally just fall off.

Hart stomps on the head, and my mouth falls open. The fire is out, but I worry he’ll have squashed her face. Maybe she won’t notice once we pop her head back on?

A feminine screech makes my ears ring. I snap my eyes to the body below me, finding the woman staring at me in horror. “You ruined my hair.”

Ohh. That makes far more sense.

Nash offers me his hand and pulls me up.

The Red Queen notes the chaotic scene with interest. “You came to the aid of one of my subjects,” she says with a tilt of her head.

I dust my dress off. “Someone had to.”

She hums a dreadful tune at the back of her throat, the kind that sends chills down your spine. “Very well. We shall wager for your soul instead. Your pitiful collection of creatures is hardly worth my time.”

“Deal,” I declare, cutting off any chance for the others to meddle in my fate.

“Sounds good to me,” Charming calls out. Hamish and Eugene let out annoyed clucks at his sides.

Gwyneth hits his chest and steps forward, her eyes wide. “No,” she gasps, her voice trembling, the weight of impending doom thick in the air.

Even the thought of my potential loss doesn’t shake my resolve; after all, I know all too well that once the truth of my chaos spills out, they’ll all yearn to be rid of me. How are they forgetting this? Have a little faith.

“I can’t bear to watch this,” the genie says dramatically, throwing an arm over his face before poofing out. Sir Sweeps-A-Lot hovers at Gwyneth’s side, vibrating like he’s trying to figure out how to help.

“I shall play for her,” Nash offers to the queen.

Her disdainful roll of the eyes could cut through stone. “You see, this is the nature of these fools. They do not seek your desires or heed your wishes. They simply insert themselves without permission.”

“They have my permission to invade every part of me,” I retort, a bitter edge creeping into my voice, drawing a few dark chuckles from the knights.

“From one queen to another, you must play for your soul,” she demands.

The guard hands me one of the weird pink creatures. I clasp my hand around its body, and it stares at me with judgy eyes. “What’s the aim?”

The Red Queen takes her creature and clasps its ankles before dropping its head to the ground, making me wince. “To win, of course.”

The guards carrying the wriggling sacks undo the drawstrings and tip out two spiky balls. Nope, my bad. Not balls, but little creatures. What’s wrong with normal balls and some sort of bat that doesn’t stare at me like I’m the most evil person they’ve ever met?

“The rules?” I ask as a guard boots one of the creatures toward me. It has a white line of paint on its back, while the one by the queen’s feet has a stripe of red.

A wicked grin spreads across her face. “To start with, you need to hit your hedgehog through the arches.”

To start with? That sounds like a loose set of rules. Also, what in Blazes is a hedgehog?

“And then?” Hart snaps.

“It depends,” the Red Queen answers as she widens her stance. Her tongue peeks out from between her lips, and she levels her gaze on the hedgehog before swinging the pink creature behind her in an arc and smashing it into the spiky creature.

“I didn’t sign up for this!” the ball shrieks as it goes wide. An arched man shuffles to ensure it rolls beneath him, grimacing as the spikes scrape against his butt.

The Red Queen whoops in glee, raising her pink thing over her head. She nods at me. “Your turn.”

I clutch the body of the pink animal, and we stare at each other, grim acceptance on its face.

“Someone help her hold the flamingo correctly,” the Red Queen snaps.

Nash strides forward and spins the creature upside down. “I believe in you,” he mouths. Those four words solidify the tether between us. Nash steps back, and I resist the urge to look at everyone else.

“I hope you are good at this,” my flamingo says. “My last player lost an ear.”

How? I shake my head, pull my flamingo back, and eyeball the arch.

Violet eyes appear a little farther up, above another arch.

Chess. He winks at me and drops his gaze down.

The arch in front of me is going to move to ensure I miss.

I’ve already figured that out. But perhaps I should aim for the less obvious.

I smash the hedgehog, and my flamingo releases a loud noise from its anus.

“Sorry. I’m gassy when I’m nervous,” the flamingo declares.

I screw my nose up at the unpleasant smell and follow the hedgehog as it flies over the first arch, which, as predicted, scurries to the side. Bunkum poop—it’s going to miss. A breeze ruffles my hair, and the hedgehog tucks itself tighter and rolls through the arch.

“Foul,” the Red Queen shouts, making the courtiers step back with a gasp.

“I’m so confused,” Malachi mutters.

The White Rabbit, who has been hiding only Idols know where, steps forward with another book in his hands, flipping through the pages. “No, my queen, Daphne played the bypass rule you yourself entered in the book recently.”

The Red Queen’s lips thin. “Fine.”

“Trust Calamity to find order in chaos,” Hart says with a laugh.

She strides to her hedgehog, and narrows her gaze on mine farther ahead. Swinging her flamingo over her shoulder, she ignores her own ball and makes her way to mine. My hedgehog sees her approaching and unfurls itself before shouting, “Nope, not this diurnal.”

What kind of rules are these? Maybe the key to winning is to embrace the utter chaos, which is my natural state.

My mouth curls. This is my domain. If she thinks she’s about to outwit me with a disarray of rules, she’s about to get schooled.

I hurry to her hedgehog just as she stomps her foot on mine, forcing it to freeze.

Chess’s eyes reappear in the air to the side of the garden. He’s guiding me.

The queen bashes my hedgehog at the same time I hit hers, and they both go sailing through the air, colliding before spinning across the grass.

My flamingo lets out the loudest gas I’ve ever heard, and that’s saying something because Goldilocks at Strongfair had issues after eating all that porridge.

The hedgehog with the red paint bounces on the lawn and slips through a scrambling arch.

The white one hits a male courtier’s legs, making him grimace.

“This is the third time this week,” he grumbles as the hedgehog settles on the lawn.

“My ball went through,” the queen declares with a triumphant smile.

“That’s hardly fair,” I say.

She winks at me. “Fair rulers make weak rulers. As a queen, you make the rules, not follow them.”

The White Rabbit snaps the pages of his book back and forth. “During the match of the dancing diamonds, Your Majesty decreed the points go to the player swinging the flamingo. If a player should switch balls, then they are bound by that creature’s performance.”

“Show me that rule book,” she snaps. The rabbit’s ears curl back and down. He trembles as he makes his way to the queen.

“It’s right here in chapter nine, titled: Rules I Made Up.”

“Then we should tear up the book,” she decides.

The rabbit shakes his head. “Impossible. You said so right here.” He points at the book, and the Red Queen’s eyes dance over the words before she huffs in annoyance. The rabbit hops back to the sidelines.

I switch to my white hedgehog and follow Chess’ glowing gaze. The hedgehogs fly, yelping as we mindlessly bash them around.

Theo snaps out his tail at one point to keep my hedgehog in the game. The genie appears above us and shields his eyes. “Someone holler once this is over.”

“When will my suffering end?” my flamingo laments.

I have no idea how to win this never-ending game of mindlessness.

“Final strike,” the rabbit shouts as my arms ache. Did he hear me?

I take a deep breath, my fingers tightening around the flamingo’s body. This is it—the last shot. If I make it, I win. If I miss… well, I don’t want to think about it.

I swing.

The flamingo lets out an outrageous fart as the hedgehog sails through the air, spinning wildly toward the final arch.

My heart leaps into my throat as it nears the goal, but at the last second, the arch moves.

My hedgehog bounces off the edge, flipping twice before coming to a stop in the grass. Silence falls.

The Red Queen claps her hands together, beaming. “Oh, what a tragic loss.”

I clench my fists as she steps closer, eyes gleaming with wicked delight. “And now, dear Daphne, your soul belongs to me.”

Theo snarls, Nash growls, and Hart and Malachi lurch toward me.

A cold wind whips through the garden, and everyone freezes mid motion.

Shadows stretch unnaturally long. My chest tightens like something is tugging on it.

A deep, resounding thrum pulses through the air, like the world is laughing at her.

The Red Queen’s smirk falters.

A second voice—smooth, velvety, and far too amused—whispers through the space between us. “Oh, my dear queen… her soul is already spoken for.”

It is? I glance at the frozen knights. I guess so. The shadows swirl, thickening like ink, and a tall figure steps from the darkness, violet eyes glowing like embers. Chess.

The Red Queen stiffens. “Impossible.”

Chess smiles, sharp and knowing. “Now, now. You should know better than to wager for something that isn’t yours to take.” He tilts his head, his grin widening. “And since you tried… I do believe you owe her a rematch of her choosing.”

The queen’s lips press into a thin, furious line. “A rematch?” she repeats.

My pulse pounds as Chess turns to me, still grinning like a villain. He leans in, his voice barely a murmur.

“So, my little chaos... what shall we make her play?”