After Rabid and I have breakfast, I scoop some extra into a Tupperware bowl. Along with a bag of Mom’s cookies and a bottled water, I put the bowl into my backpack to keep my royal advisor occupied on our way to school. For such a small creature, he has a huge appetite, and a huge knowledge of the inner workings of Wonderland’s politics. During the drive, he sits out of view on the floorboards of the passenger side, head poking from the backpack zipper. He answers every question I ask as he gobbles up eggs. According to Wonderland law, there are three ways the blood heir of a netherling queen can relinquish her throne once she’s been crowned: death, exile, or losing to another blood heir in a magical tournament. I turned my throne over to Grenadine, but that doesn’t count as an official abdication. She can only be a temporary substitute, since she’s not of our lineage. Now that the kingdom’s in trouble, it’s up to me to step back in, take up the crown, and defeat Red. It’s like Morpheus said while we were in the car: I’m the only one who can release and wield the magic that is now a part of my blood.
