Queens of Wonderland

Contents Cover Title Page Dedication Contents 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 Acknowledgments About the Author Also by Gama Ray Martinez Copyright About the Publisher iii v 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224 225 226 227 228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235 236 237 238 239 240 241 242 243 244 245 246 247 248 249 250 251 252 253 254 255 256 257 258 259 260 261 262 263 264 265 266 267 268 269 270 271 272 273 274 275 276 277 278 279 280 281 282 283 284 285 286 287 288 289 290 291 292 293 294 295 296 297 298 299 300 301 302 303 304 305 306 307 ii iv Guide Cover Contents 1 Dedication In memory of Eric Flint. I miss you, you old curmudgeon. 1 “What about storks?” Vanessa rolled her eyes at the question and wiped away the cobweb that brushed her face. The crypt’s musty air made her cough. Her breath disturbed the thick carpet of dust on the stone ground. Aside from that, she hardly made a sound as she moved, unlike the man behind her, who still wasn’t accustomed to things like walking through a forgotten crypt under the Tower of London. “What?” she asked. “Storks,” Will said. The light of his lantern shifted as he spoke. “Do they really bring babies?” She turned and gaped. “You don’t know where babies come from?” Will’s face reddened. “I know where babies come from, but I found out a lot of things I thought were true actually weren’t once I joined the Knights.” She allowed herself a half smirk. “It’s not that they’re not true. It’s just that the truth is more complicated than you thought.” Will rolled his eyes. “Right. So what is the truth about storks?” Vanessa suppressed a chuckle. Most people, when introduced to the supernatural world, didn’t accept the more unusual parts as easily as Will. Of course, most people’s introduction didn’t involve being a prisoner in Neverland for six years before helping to save Peter Pan from his brother-in-law’s evil twin. That sort of thing tended to open one’s mind, and Will had progressed far in the year he’d been a member of the Knights. “Well, that’s actually more or less the same as it was in the old days. It didn’t die away like some of the other myths. Storks draw their power from the belief of children, and that hasn’t really changed. They usher souls into this world.” Someone grunted up ahead, and Vanessa turned and ran forward, not looking back to see if Will followed. She came to a stone door that had been forced open—recently, if the dust it had moved across the ground was any indication. The ghostly glow coming from within was even more indicative. She rushed inside, hoping they would finally find Michael and be able to get out of this crypt. She came in just as the armored ghost stabbed its sword into Michael’s shoulder, and the Knight dropped his own blade, grimacing in the pale blue light cast by the spirit. Ghostly weapons didn’t cause physical wounds, but a ghost blade did rob all feeling from the limb it pierced. Michael wouldn’t be able to use that arm for a few hours at least. He fell backward to avoid another strike. When he tried to roll to his feet, the ghost screamed. This spirit was no banshee, but those buried this deep in the crypt had died more than a thousand years ago, and that conferred a power of its own. The force of its cry slammed Michael into the ground. Vanessa drew her bow, taking only a second to aim. She fired. The arrow passed right through the spirit. It staggered back a few steps before advancing again. “Dammit!” Vanessa drew another arrow. Her arrowheads were made of gravestone, which could be used to ward off ghosts, but those older than a hundred years or so could often resist it. Against a spirit a millennium old, it would be little more than a bee sting. Michael scooped up his sword in his left hand, then turned to her and scowled. “Vanessa, what are you doing here?” The ghost was on him again before she could respond, so she loosed another arrow at it, distracting it for a second. Michael rushed forward. He wasn’t as skilled with his left hand, but it was enough. The sword sliced into the ghost’s belly, spilling out motes of blue