Idols above. How have I landed in a life where that is even a question?
“We need to leave,” the rabbit declares as he pulls out his pocket watch and glowers. “If we go now, we can avoid the beheadings and the queen’s daily game.”
Wow, she’s a busy lady.
“What is this?” Eron asks as he looks at the side of the mirror like he can see the rabbit.
“It’s fine. Just a queen with a penchant for decapitation,” I explain.
Eron blinks. “And you are willingly walking into her domain? Are the knights on board with this idiotic plan?”
“On board is a stretch,” Theo tells him. “But we have to go that way to get to the Grimm brothers, so it is what it is.”
Eron mutters something about idiotic maidens and a bet with Erik.
We say our farewells to the hatter, the hare, and the sleepy dormouse, who gives us a thumbs up.
We follow the rabbit, and the world shifts—colors melting into each other like wet paint, trees stretching and shrinking as if yawning from a long slumber.
Sir Sweeps-A-Lot floats beside me, his bristles twitching like an anxious cat. Even my broom knows this is a bad idea.
The White Rabbit hops ahead, glancing at his pocket watch every other second. “Hurry, hurry. If we tarry too long, we’ll miss the window before the chess board resets.”
“Cheese board?” I ask, rubbing my temples. “Doesn’t sound too bad. There’s always room for cheese.”
“Chessboard,” Nash corrects, but it’s too late. My stomach latches on to the idea of cheese, and I scan the clearing for what I hope will be a glorious spread of aged brie and fresh bread.
Instead, we step into a massive checkered field, stretching endlessly under a misty sky. The squares gleam—some ivory-white, some obsidian-black, smooth and reflective, like polished marble.
“This is definitely not cheese.”
Before I can process what’s happening, the ground trembles beneath me. A gust of wind rushes through, swirling my dress as an invisible force yanks me forward. My boots skid against the glossy surface, and I slam into a tall, ornate pedestal.
“Daphne,” Hart growls.
“Stop,” the rabbit yells, and Hart freezes with his foot in the air.
I glance up at the pedestal. No, it’s a throne.
“What’s happening?” Eron demands from his mirror hidden in the pocket of my dress.
“Um, ever played chess?” I ask.
“Not recently, but I hardly think this is the time for board games.” I pull the mirror out of my pocket to show him the board. He grimaces. “Can you move?” he checks.
I shake my head just as my hat disappears and a golden crown materializes and drops unceremoniously onto my scalp. A trumpet blares in the distance.
“Hail, White Queen!” a chorus of ghostly voices declares.
The realization sinks in as I try to yank the crown from my head. I’m stuck. “Oh,” I whisper in dawning horror.
Gwyneth rubs a hand down her face while Malachi groans. Theo lets out a slow breath through his nose, like he’s trying not to breathe fire again.
Hart glances around. “This is bad.”
“It will be fine. We can give her directions from the sidelines,” Malachi says. “Nash is a master player.”
Genie floats above me and scans the board with interest. “I think it’s spelled.”
