The walls were gingerbread so dark with spice that it verged on black, hardened with molasses and strengthened with posts of twisted pretzel treats. The sugar crystals studding the walls were larger than Kade’s fist, and sharpened to wicked points, until the entire structure became a weapon. The battlements looked like they had been carved from rock candy, and the towers were impossibly high, ignoring the laws of physics and common sense alike.

Rini moaned. “The castle of the Queen of Cakes,” she said. “We’re doomed.”

“I thought your mother defeated her,” hissed Cora.

“She did and she didn’t,” said Rini. “Once Mom died before coming back to Confection, everything started to come undone. The Queen of Cakes returned the same time the first of my fingers disappeared. She came back all at once, maybe because Mom killed her all at once, and she made me one ingredient at a time. I took nine months to bake. I might take nine months to disappear, one piece at a time, until all that’s left is my heart, lying on the ground, beating without a body.”

“Hearts don’t work that way,” said Christopher.

“Skeletons don’t walk around,” said Rini.

“All of you, silence,” snapped one of the knights. “Show some respect. You’re about to go before the rightful ruler of all Confection.”

“There is no rightful ruler of all Confection,” said Rini. “Cake and candy and fudge and gingerbread don’t all follow the same rules, so how can anyone make rules that work for everyone at the same time? You follow a false queen. The First Baker would be ashamed of you. The First Oven would refuse to bake your heart. You—”

His fist caught her full in the face, snapping her head back, leaving her gasping for breath. He turned to glare at the rest of his captives, eyes resting on each of them in turn.

“Show respect, or pay the price: the choice is yours,” he said, and the horses trotted on, carrying them ever closer to the castle, and to the impossible woman waiting there.

*   *   *

THE MAIN HALLWAY of the castle continued and fulfilled the promise of its exterior: everything was candy, or cake, or some other form of baked good, but elevated to a grace and glory that would have made the bakers back home weep at the futile nature of their own efforts. Chandeliers of sugar crystals hung from the vaulted, painted chocolate ceiling. Stained sugar glass windows filtered and shattered the light, turning everything into an explosion of rainbows.