Playing Hearts Read Online Free PDF Page B

looked as though they had gone mad– or maybe
just madder. Hare was bounding in powerful, erratic circles, his legs kicking
in mid-air and his crutch waggling at the sun, and Hatter seemed to be beating
his top hat with one fist. I giggled as I watched them, and found that I was
also crying. I had actually thought they were going to die. I had saved them– had I saved them? Was that me? Had I really reached into Underland and altered
it? I looked from my hands to the water and back again, then at the water once
more. Hatter had stopped beating his hat and was poking it with his forefinger
instead. He dipped his finger curiously in the ripply bit at the top and
withdrew it slowly. Then he looked right at me, his purple eyes wide and wild
and almost pupil-less. Ashamed of my tears, I scrambled to my feet and away
through the weeping willow; but before Hatter quite vanished behind the sweeping
greenery, I saw him smile.

 
     

     
     
    I was an avid puddle-gazer from my ninth
to my twelfth birthdays. No cards of invitation appeared on my pillow and I
didn’t accidentally fall into Underland either, so there seemed to be nothing
for it but to watch from a distance. Then, at last, a few months after my
twelfth birthday, I woke with a start to find that a playing card was on my
pillow again. It kicked into gear a plan that must have been growing in my back
brain for weeks. I snatched at the card, my thoughts spinning, and was out of
the house less than fifteen minutes later. On my back was my school bag,
stuffed with the food I’d hoarded over the last few weeks and heavy with as
many clothes as I could manage. I’d stolen a carrot from the kitchen for Hare—a
big fat one that seemed like it might make even him less loud and angry—and a
patchwork cap I found in the dress-up bin at school for Hatter. Perhaps if I
was clever about it, they would let me stay for a while.
    But I didn’t find them
when I leapt into Underland. Instead, my puddle brought me out into a cool,
dark woods. There was a chill to the air around my ankles, and dark green grass
stretched out in a velvety expanse beneath my shoes. Up ahead was a sharp
demarcation of lighter green which I thought at first was a sunbeam finding its
way through the trees, but turned out to be a straight line of lighter green
grass. There was no graceful or patchy seguing between the two, it was a sharp,
straight line; dark one side, light the other. Curious. I frowned at it,
wondering if this was a sort of fake turf like the oval at school. Only why
would there be fake grass in a wood?
    “It’s Underland,” I said
to myself, because I couldn’t keep staring at it. I wanted to find Hatter and
Hare. “Maybe the trees aren’t real, either.” I hefted my backpack a little
higher on my back and walked toward the line of lighter green grass.
    I had taken just one step
over that line when a voice boomed: “Forfeit! Your life is forfeit! I claim
this square!”
    I clutched at the straps
of my backpack, my heart racing, and saw a flash of red in the shadows. A
furious thundering of hooves beat in my ears, and then my fear that the Queen
had somehow found me again was put to flight by the very much more present
danger of the red knight who was galloping straight at me. His horse was
blood-red, too, its neck arched and proud, and there was a very sharp red lance
pointed at my chest.
    I froze for the barest
instant, then threw myself sideways as the horse barrelled past, tearing up
chunks of turf. The grass was soft and springy, and I rolled easily to my feet
again despite my backpack. Unfortunately, in the time between rolling and
rising, the red knight had pulled up, turned, and was setting his lance at me
again.
    “Ho! Challenger to the
square!” called another voice behind me.
    I gave a squeak, instinctively
ducking, and a second horse and knight galloped past me, intent upon the red
knight. This horse and knight were white, and when the red knight saw them he
spurred his