War of the Cards
Dorothy Must Die meets Alice in Wonderland.This is not a story of happily ever after – it’s the heart-stopping conclusion in the twisted YA origin story of the infamous villain, the Queen of Hearts.Dinah has lost everyone she ever loved. Her brother was brutally murdered. The man she believed was her father betrayed her. Her loyal subjects have been devastated by war. And the boy she gave her heart to broke it completely.Now a dark queen has risen out of the ashes of her former life. Fury is blooming inside Dinah, poisoning her soul and twisting her mind. All she has left is Wonderland and her crown, and her obsession to fight for both. But the war rages on, and Dinah could inherit a bloodstained throne.Can a leader filled with love and rage ever be the ruler her kingdom needs? Or will her all-consuming wrath bring Wonderland to its knees?
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First published in the US by HarperTeen in 2017
HarperTeen is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers
Published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Childrenâs Books in 2018
HarperCollins Childrenâs Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,
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Text copyright © Colleen Oakes 2017
Jacket art © by Ruben Ireland 2018; Jacket Design by Jenna Stempel
Colleen Oakes asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of the work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
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Source ISBN: 9780008175450
Ebook Edition © 2018 ISBN: 9780008175467
Version: 2017-11-03
To all the girls with dark hearts and those who dare to love them
âI canât explain myself, Iâm afraid, sir.
Because Iâm not myself, you see.â
âAliceâs Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
Contents
Dinah chased a white rabbit, just beyond her reach. It turned and veered under rosebushes and vertically stacked tables piled with teacups. She turned a corner. It was gone. She turned again. A wave crashed over her, only instead of being wet, it was made of fire, a fire that thundered in her heart. The rabbit was there again, taunting her. As she watched, it swung its pocket watch back and forth, hypnotizing her. The rabbitâs ears began to shrink down into its head before her. Its eyes were swallowed by its changing face, which was becoming elongated and sharp. Feathers blossomed out of its back as it turned into a white peacock. It opened its mouth to speak. Its voice was high and sweet, the disembodied voice of Faina Baker. âKeep your temper, Queen of Hearts â¦â
âWeâre here, Your Majesty.â The gentle voice of her Yurkei guard jerked her out of sleep. Dinahâs eyes blinked open as Morte came to an uneasy stop.
It was unbelievable to her that she had fallen asleep while riding this temperamental animal, but there was something so lulling about Morteâs gait. That, and she was exhausted. They had been marching toward Wonderland Palace for many days, and sleep had not been a frequent visitor to Dinahâs bed. All her dreams of late were filled with nightmarish images. In the dawn hours just before she woke, her mind was battered with images of Wardley, the love of her life, who had fractured her heart into a thousand jagged pieces. Wardley, naked and glistening with sweat. Wardley, kissing her as red rose petals fell around them. Wardley, an old withered man, dying in her arms, his heart a hardened black shell that beat outside his body.
It wasnât just him visiting her sleep. There was the dead farmer that she had found as she outran the Cards in the Twisted Wood, an arrow quivering in his back. There was the Heart Cards she had killed on her way out of Charlesâs room, their blood chasing her down an endless palace hallway.
These nightmares made for poor sleep, and Dinah awoke each morning with a pounding head and a heavy, jaded heart. She would sit up and slowly pull on her clothing, reminding herself why she was here: because she was the rightful Queen of Wonderland and she had come to conquer her kingdom. Most mornings, the thought was enough to motivate her. Other times, she lay in bed wishing that she was anywhere but here, in a damp tent that smelled of the Spades.
After pulling on her tunic, cloaks, and boots, Dinah would sit on the edge of her bed and clutch at her chest, hoping to smother the black fury inside her. The fury whispered to her that she would never be loved and made her mouth water at the mention of blood.
She would slowly push the rage back inside and struggle to control it. Then she would put on her crown, emerge from her tent, say good morning to her Yurkei bodyguards, greet her advisersâSir Gorrann, Cheshire, Starey Belft, and Bah-kanâand climb on her devil steed. Her army would continue making their way north.
Each calculated, queenly step was exhausting. Her waking hours were filled with both longing and hatred for Wardley. She carried the weight of her love for him on her shoulders and in her chest. As they had marched north from the Darklands, he rode behind her, his eyes never leaving her back for long. Everywhere she turned, he was there, and each time their eyes met, Dinah was flooded with fresh pain.
