Morpheus’s snarl cuts me off. “Of course. Jebediah. He would certainly appreciate such a life, being a simpleton.”

“Being a human,” I correct, moving my hand from the bicep that’s now stiff with tension. “For mortals, those things are sacred. It’s innate in us, the desire to grow old with someone we love. To share the simple things along the journey, to cherish each one as the treasure it is. My mom missed out on so much of that with my dad. But they have a second chance now. They can still have some of it. Poor Alice didn’t have any chances. No one to love and grow old with. She aged alone in a cage with a dodo bird as her only companion. That was a tragedy. A wasted human life. All she had were sad fantasies of what might’ve been. Jeb deserves better than that. He deserves something real. So do you. And I do, too. No more pretending. Not between the three of us.”

There’s a moment of silence. Then Morpheus sighs. “When did you get so wise, little truffle?”

I fight the sting of tears in my eyes. “You already know. You had a hand in that journey.”

He shakes his head. “My offer still stands to hide you somewhere. I can protect you from the mortals. They are destined to break your heart in ways I never could.” The words are sincere, his voice deep and gruff, as if it’s already happened and he’s hurting for me.

“Jeb would never—”

“When he dies one day, he will. Your parents will, too. And anyone else you might outlive.”

My throat swells. If I’m not careful, I’ll lose the battle against crying. “Yes, it’s going to be painful.”

“I don’t think you realize how much.”

I stand firm. “The experience will make me stronger . . . a better queen.” I’ve already faced this fear in my mind. I’ve accepted that it’s the tragic trade-off for living a full human life. “My heart’s unbreakable now,” I add, just loud enough for Morpheus to hear. I hold my hand over the glow behind my sternum. “You and Jeb saw to that.”

“I suppose we did,” Morpheus answers. “He and I outsmarted magic.”

Though his statement is soft and smooth as silk, the unspoken echo—“And now there’s a price to be paid ”—razes through me like a serrated knife.

Jeb paid his price, losing his dreams and artistic muse forever. And now Morpheus is paying his.

Silent once more, he wraps his fingers around my free hand. Together, we fly up to the mushroom’s cap and perch on the half that isn’t cloaked in gauzy threads.

Considering he sliced his way out of the cocoon decades earlier, I’m shocked to see the gauzy blanket move like a living, breathing thing. There’s something the size of a rottweiler inside making snoring sounds.

I flap my wings nervously, but Morpheus holds me in place. Frowning, I turn to him. “You said no more tricks tonight,” I accuse.

“This isn’t a trick. ’Tis a gift. Although it is a bit tricky, in that it’s dangerous in the wrong hands.”

The hairs on my neck stand up. “Dangerous?”

“Feral. That’s a better description.”

I inch toward the mushroom’s edge to escape.

He catches my wrist and stops me. “Tut, be brave. You are a Red Queen. You’ve nothing to fear of the creatures of this world. In fact, this particular creature will be loyal and devoted only to you. We’re going to see to that right now. It is the rest of Wonderland who needs to be wary after tonight. So . . .”

“So?”

“This gift was no easy feat to wrap. At least give me the pleasure of watching you open it.” He draws a shimmery silver blade as small as a fillet knife from his jacket and offers it on his outstretched palm.

The vorpal sword. The most magical weapon in all of Wonderland.

I pause. “This is mine now?”

He laughs. “Absolutely not. The vorpal sword will always belong to me. I worked hard for it.”

I scowl at him.

Grinning sheepishly, he clears his throat. “Well, with some help from you, of course. ’Tis why I’m willing to let you borrow it on special occasions.”

“That’s grand of you.” I wrinkle my nose at him playfully, then take the sword. Just as I remember, the handle feels warm even through my gloves. Everywhere I touch, glowing blue prints appear on the silver metal. I prepare to slice through the thick white web.

Morpheus stalls me with a fingertip at my elbow. “Be sure to step back the moment it’s free, luv.”

I squint. “Seriously?”

“It will be fine. Their kind awakens rather slowly.”

Their kind. My stomach knots. Fingers trembling, I slice through the sticky webbing. A sparkle of magic chases the cutting motions as the cocoon peels open. A stench, ten times worse than rotten cabbage, drifts out. Covering my nose, I step back and return the vorpal sword to Morpheus’s waiting hand.

Both sides of the cocoon fall apart to reveal a snoozing dog-size creature with a rhino’s gray hide. Its triangular, feline head snuggles between scaled forepaws. I recognize what it is, although I’ve never seen one smaller than a freight car. It must be a baby. A really big baby. I gulp.

“Queen Alyssa,” Morpheus says in a low voice. “Meet your royal pet, the bandersnatch.”

I stare, gaping.

“Remember,” Morpheus continues, “I once told you Grenadine had the word the original bandersnatch was trained to obey. It was a command passed down in the Red Kingdom from queen to queen. But she couldn’t remember it, and lost the ribbon that held that secret. It’s moot now anyway, since the royal bandersnatch died at my hand. So tonight, it is up to you to start a new legacy.”

I don’t even have time to respond before the creature’s milky white eyes snap open. It snarls, exposing fangs like a reptilian saber-toothed tiger. In one blink, three tongues lash out. At the ends of each appendage, a snakelike face opens toothless jaws and hisses, like eels.

I dart toward the mushroom’s edge, too late. One tongue captures my ankle and I’m left dangling upside down, some ten feet from the ground, my skirt ballooning around my head and all the blood rushing into my skull. The creature’s drool oozes from my shin to my thigh.

“Morpheus!” I screech, furious he’s already beneath me standing on the grass, safely out of reach of the creature.

The noose on my ankle tightens and I feel my body being dragged upward toward the snarling bandersnatch pup. I wriggle.

“Morpheus, get me out of this!”

“Get yourself out. It’s imperative you do it. Cut yourself free.” He uses his blue magic to guide the vorpal sword up to me.

I snag the blade’s handle but pause. The second I’m loose, I’ll descend headfirst to the ground. There’s not enough distance for my wings to slow the fall.

“Oh, get on with it,” Morpheus scolds, impatient. “You bloody well know I’ll catch you. Why else would I be standing down here?”

“Well,” I grump, “my first guess is so you can see up my dress.”

“I’ll admit, the view is spectacular. But that’s merely a happy coincidence.”

“As if anything with you is ever a coincidence.”

His smug chuckle grinds through me.