However, it was very welcome news to the Spades, who were beginning to look less like fearsome warriors and more like wearied travelers. The camps had seemed to be in good spirits, with laughter rising up into the afternoon sky. Dinah smiled when she heard it. Laughter these days was rare and welcome, and the sound of these grizzled men tinkled over the land like a baby’s giggle.
That evening, after the storm, the clouds broke wide open, and a flawless sky shimmered with stars. The bodies of the two fallen Spades were being laid down on a pile of wood. Clothed in a white dress and black cloak, Dinah looked over their bodies. She was surprised but not embarrassed by the tears in her eyes. She reached out a trembling hand and touched every whisker on the men’s faces before cradling their blackened, cracked heels in her hands.
Remember this, she told herself. Remember these men, and the physical cost of your reign. She let a silent tear drip down her face as she bent over them, saying empty prayers to the Wonderland gods. Her hands were placed over their still hearts, hoping to absorb their strength and take on their mission—hoping to make it through the battle they would never see.
Sir Gorrann handed her a spitting torch, and with grim determination Dinah set their bodies aflame. She stood motionless and held back tears, watching the skin of her men pull back as it slowly cooked, veins and muscle turning from living flesh into drifting flakes of ash. A large circle of black-clad Spades stood around her, all reaching forward with one hand, fully present for the last moment with their fallen comrades.
An eerie sound rose up from the other side of the camp, and Dinah clenched her teeth. It was the wails of the Yurkei.
Cheshire stepped forward and bowed his head, his purple cloak flapping behind him as he came to a stop beside her.
“They cry because they feel that we are imprisoning the souls of the Spades here in Wonderland instead of freeing them in the ground. It’s either that or that they believe we are releasing poison ash into the air. Actually, Your Majesty, it’s probably both.”
Dinah raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Ki-ershan had tried to warn her that the funerals would be a problem, but Dinah knew she had no choice; the men must be burned and the Spades must be appeased.
Her eyes lingered over the burning bodies of the men, and she jumped backward when they met the glowing eyes of Iu-Hora, the Yurkei’s doctor and the man they called the Caterpillar. His stare passed through her, seeing every thought, every dark desire. With a wicked smile, he nodded at her before disappearing into the Darklands. Dinah looked away, keeping her eyes on her fallen Spades. The Yurkei continued their loud lament, tossing insults casually across the divide.
“I’m not going to listen to this horseshit!” spat one of the Spades to her right. Dinah could feel the rising tempers of the Spades around her.
Sir Gorrann raised his arms. “Now, if everyone would just calm down. Let’s say farewell to our friends and then I’ll get yeh a drink. More than one.”
Someone started pushing forward, and Dinah found herself shoved toward the towering funeral pyre. Cheshire caught her arm and yanked her backward, saving her from a wide lick of flame. She turned, unnerved by what she saw. The barrier between the camps was lined with Spades and Yurkei facing one another, casting insults and mocking the other side.
As the flames grew higher, a sort of war hysteria was taking over the men. Starey Belft was hollering at the men at the top of his lungs, but his words were ignored. Wardley was galloping Corning up and down the line between the Spades and the Yurkei camp, daring anyone to cross the line. As gallant as he looked, he wasn’t imposing enough to stem the years of hatred that were boiling over. Dinah began violently shoving her way to the center. Sir Gorrann was beside her, his sword out, shoving Spades left and right as they tried to pass through a passionate throng that barely noticed them.
As the Yurkei’s cries of complaint rose into the sky, the Spades became unhinged, urged on by their exhaustion and grief. A few mugs of ale were lazily thrown at the Yurkei, who dodged them calmly. The Spades began spitting on the ground and cursing, blaming the Yurkei for the death of their friends.
Dread rose in Dinah’s heart as she ran forward. She had always known that her army was a simmering pot of decades-old discord and bloodlust. She had foolishly hoped that if she could just get the men to Wonderland proper, their common enemy would unite them.
“Out of the way!” she screamed, shoving aside a Spade who looked at her with disbelief. “Stand down!” She kept yelling it, but her voice was swallowed in the tide.
The Spade next to her drew his mace, and Dinah knew in that moment they would never make it to the line in time. The unrest in the air was so thick that she could almost smell it over the repulsive smell of burned bodies. After that, it all happened so quickly. Axes raised, two Spades burst out of line behind Wardley and Corning and charged toward a circle of chanting warriors. The Yurkei saw them coming and quickly nocked their arrows, aiming their points directly at the Spades’ hearts.
Dinah flung her torch to the ground and sprinted after the two Spades, her hands out in front of her. “Stop! Gods, stop! They aren’t the enemy!” she screamed, but it might as well have been the wind.
They ran forward naively, for Dinah understood what the Spades did not: that the Yurkei would win any confrontation, and when they did, it would be a massacre. Every Spade on this field would die.
The Yurkei released their arrows, which flew impossibly fast toward the Spades’ unprotected hearts. One of the Spades flung an ax into the crowd of the Yurkei. It was all going to end.
As her feet pounded the ground, Dinah heard a strange scraping sound and looked up to see the flame on the funeral pyre being sucked into the sky like a funnel.
Like the breath of an angry god, the Sky Curtain arrived.
A giant crack ricocheted through the sky, so loud that it sent Spade and Yurkei alike to their knees in fear, as if the gods themselves were breaking open the heavens. Dinah fell to the ground, but barely had time to cover her head before there was someone covering her body with his own.
She was five years old when the Sky Curtain had appeared over the Twisted Wood. All of Wonderland Palace had stopped what it was doing to watch. Members of the court and peasants alike had climbed up on their roofs to get a better view of the curtain. The streets had been flooded with people; pickpockets ran rampant. Young Dinah had climbed up on her castle balcony for a better view. She had stepped on the end of her nightgown and would have tumbled to her death if it was not for Harris scooping her up in his arms. After she was duly reprimanded, Harris put her on his wide shoulders so she could better see the curtain fluttering over the mountains. From where Dinah sat, it looked as though a giant had gathered a handful of the stars and yanked downward. Everyone living had only heard of this natural phenomenon in history books. Even as a child, it had taken her breath away. “Harris, what is it?”