I never talked about the Other Place. I had had people’s fingers cut off at the mere mention.
“But, darling, how are we ever going to know each other if we don’t . . . share?” he asked.
I hesitated. I needed him to trust me. Was this the price of admission?
“Dorothy . . . ?”
I took a deep breath and told him about Kansas. At first, I told him everything I’d hated about growing up there. The miserable winters that lasted for months. The miserable summers the rest of the time. Working like a serf on Aunt Em and Uncle Henry’s farm. My so-called friends who’d turned on me after my first visit to Oz.
But then I started thinking about the good things. About the parts I hadn’t even realized I missed: the first big snowfall of the year, when the prairie turned into a sea of white that stretched all the way to the horizon. The happy cluck-cluck of the chickens every morning when I brought them their feed. The warmth of the egg-laying shed in winter. Aunt Em’s apple pies. The way the prairie grass smelled in summer before the heat settled in to make us all miserable.
I’d never told anyone as much as I told the Nome King. Not Ozma, back when I thought we were friends. Not even Scare and Tin and the Lion the first time I traveled with them in Oz.
Back then, I’d spent the whole trip to the Emerald City chanting “home” like a mantra.
I stopped talking. Something unfamiliar was happening.
A lump. In my throat. It hurt terribly. Was I dying?
“Dorothy, you’re crying,” the Nome King said quietly. He brushed a tear from the corner of my eye with a long, silvery finger.
“Certainly not,” I said quickly, clearing my throat around the unfamiliar sensation. “I don’t know why I went on so. I don’t miss the Other Place for a minute. It was barren and boring.”
“Coming to Oz must have been very strange for you,” the Nome King said, drawing me forward again. I hadn’t realized we’d stopped walking.
“It was wonderful,” I said decidedly.
“I’m sure it was,” he agreed. “But to be separated from your family so young, orphaned like that, forced to make decisions as a ruler of a nation . . .”
I’d loved my family. That is why I’d brought them with me to Oz. But they were gone. I was here, and that was all that mattered. “I’m perfectly capable of handling pressure, if that’s what you mean,” I said coolly. This was going all wrong. I was supposed to be pretending to be vulnerable, not actually vulnerable. What on earth was wrong with me?
“I don’t doubt that,” he said with a smile.
He had led me to another hallway, this one much wider than the rest. The ceiling towered above us. The hall ended in a huge set of iron-bound wooden doors.
“Welcome to Major Hall, my ballroom,” he said, flinging the doors open.
I couldn’t help it. I gasped. Ballrooms were the cure for almost anything.
The Nome King’s ballroom was more than beautiful. It was magnificent. The ceiling was so far overhead it was lost in darkness. Massive ruby chandeliers, dark now, floated overhead, glittering redly in the scant light from the hallway. The floor was made of polished red stone.
I took a few steps into the enormous room. The click of my heels echoed eerily through the darkness. I was reminded of a Halloween haunted house Aunt Em had taken me to once long ago in the Other Place. There had been a room that felt like this. Vast. Empty.
But not entirely empty.
Haunted.
I was suddenly very aware of the fact that the Nome King and I were deep within the bowels of his palace.
And we were entirely alone.
A shiver ran through me.
Not fear.
Something else entirely.
I turned to him. “It’s perfect,” I said, and I meant it. I had no intention of dying here, of course, but he didn’t need to know that.
“I thought you might like it,” he said.
And, I realized, he meant it, too. For once we weren’t playing a game. We were standing in this enormous room, surrounded by darkness, two of the most powerful people in the world. Alone. Together. I stepped forward and let my hand slide down his arm. My fingers twined with his. He didn’t resist.
And so I kissed him.
His cool lips parted in surprise—and then he leaned into me and returned the kiss. His arms wrapped around me, his fingers tangled in my hair.
And I knew in that moment, whatever else was to come, whatever we might do to each other in the end, this moment was real. Neither one of us was pretending to be anything other than what we were.
But I couldn’t lose control. Because no matter what, I had to remember that this man intended to kill me. There was nothing about him I could trust.
Reluctantly, I broke away from him. I lowered my eyelashes, giving me time to recover my racing thoughts. I couldn’t let him see he’d caught me off guard.
“You are full of surprises, Dorothy Gale,” he murmured.
There was a shift in his tone. I could see in his eyes that he, too, had forgotten the game for a moment. So it was my turn to take advantage.
“I’d like our wedding to be very grand,” I said in the same hushed tone he’d just used. “Hundreds of guests.”
“Of course,” he said, his eyes a little glazed. But then his gaze sharpened. “Hundreds? I was thinking a more intimate affair.”
I’ll bet you were, I thought. Perhaps even his subjects drew the line at human sacrifice. If he was still planning on killing me, he wouldn’t want an audience.
But I needed Amy in the palace when I made my move. If I knew she was coming, I could defend myself against her. But with any luck, the Nome King wouldn’t. She was my backup plan: if Amy didn’t kill him, she could distract him long enough to give me a chance to escape. It was a risky plan, but I didn’t have a lot of options.
“I insist,” I said, my tone flirtatious. “I want a celebration that shows off your riches, my treasured love. I want your subjects to be able to appreciate your magnanimity and your largesse. My love, your kingdom is ever so much older and finer than Oz. Surely you have nobility . . . princes and princesses—dukes and duchesses—all sorts of important persons whom you wish to witness our union?”
“Why?” he asked.
I concealed my irritation with considerable effort. “Because that’s how it’s done, my darling,” I said. “In royal circles, anyway. The citizens of Ev don’t even know their future queen is among them.”
“You want a party?” I was getting used to his hairless eyebrow-arching, and recognized it as what he intended it to be.
“Not a party,” I clarified. “A wedding. With musicians, and canapés, and pretty dresses, and a battalion of servants, and a mandatory dress code, and a feast. Wine and spirits.”
Dress code. Inspiration hit me. Amy would have an even better chance of getting into the palace if the guests wore disguises. “In fact,” I said, “let’s make our wedding a costume ball. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
He looked at me for a long time. I could tell he was running through what I’d just said, trying to figure out what I was up to. The game was back on. I hid an exhilarated smile.
“That does sound fun,” he said thoughtfully. “I believe we once did that sort of thing here, ages ago. I even went to these balls you speak of. Though it’s been a century or two, and I do think fashions might have changed.”
“Balls never go out of fashion,” I said at once, pressing my advantage. “And how often will you be married, my darling?”
“Only once, I hope,” he said drily, looking at me. I kept my smile even and serene. “Would you like . . . help in planning our ball?”
“Just your guest list,” I said brightly. “And perhaps a few connections to the kitchen staff.”
He smiled, showing all his teeth. “Certainly, darling. Let me know if you need any help. But our wedding will take place tomorrow regardless.”
“Tomorrow?” I said, trying not to show my shock.
“I
simply cannot wait a moment longer to be united with you forever,” he said.
“But that’s nowhere near enough time to plan a ball, let alone a wedding,” I protested. “These things take weeks. Months! I must insist on more time!”
“There is nothing you cannot do, my love,” he said with a smile that looked almost genuine. “I have utter faith in your abilities. Tomorrow morning we shall be wed.”
“Next week,” I said. “Give me a week, my treasure.”
He frowned, impatience stealing across his cadaverous features. “Tomorrow afternoon, if you insist.”
This was ridiculous. I had less than twenty-four hours to plan the most important day of my life? I wanted to throw something at him.
“Darling, it’s not possible,” I purred.
His frown deepened. “Are you reluctant to join our two kingdoms, Dorothy?”
There was no mistaking the veiled threat in his voice. Any stalling for time I did now, he would use against me. I knew, of course, the real reason he wanted to rush our nuptials, but I couldn’t show my hand. I had to play along.
“At least give me a day to prepare, my beloved,” I murmured, fluttering my eyelashes. “Can we agree on the stroke of midnight tomorrow night? After all, our guests will need time to travel to the palace.”
Impatience and doubt were replaced by amusement on his face. “My subjects do not live so far from the palace, dear Dorothy. I do not allow them to stray. Not the important ones, anyway. I find it convenient to keep them close if I need them—or if I need to punish them.” Involuntarily, he touched the knife at his side. I swallowed hard. “But I am aware that Oz’s customs are not Ev’s. Let us wed at midnight, as you wish. Shall I show you to your rooms now?”
I nodded, my mind racing, and let him guide me back to my chamber. His hand rested on the small of my back as we walked and I couldn’t shake the pleasure of his touch. At the door he leaned down and moved to kiss my cheek, but I turned my mouth to his instead.
This kiss was even more passionate than the first. And I saw with no small amount of satisfaction that he was breathing hard when he finally ended it.
“Good night, Dorothy,” he said quietly.
This time, he didn’t bother to lock my door.
“Mistress!” Bupu cried, leaping to her feet.
I clapped my hands. “All right, Bupu, no slacking about. We have work to do. Mistress is getting married tomorrow.”
“But—”
“No buts,” I said. “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
“You are very clever,” Bupu breathed, her eyes huge.
“Yes,” I said. “I know.”
My first mission: better clothes and better food. And a source of cocktails. Finally, Bupu turned out to be useful; the Nome King seemed totally indifferent to the day-to-day mechanisms of his palace, but Bupu knew everyone from the humblest kitchen slave to the best seamstress. There was no time to sleep; I sent Bupu to her with a message to begin my costume immediately. As it turned out, Bupu also knew where the spirits were kept. I should’ve asked her ages ago.
The Nome King sent a secretary to my chamber to draft up a list of important and wealthy personages that ought to be invited to the nuptial ball, and I set him to work hand lettering invitations worded as thinly veiled commands. The absolute worst thing is throwing a party and having no one come; I figured threats would fill the room, even on such short notice. I had already figured out that the Nome King’s subjects took his commands very seriously. That was one more thing the Nome King and I had in common; we valued loyalty and obedience, and we weren’t afraid to enforce the things that were important to us.
I decided to costume myself as a serpent. Powerful, dramatic, deadly. But the scales of the dress would also bear my signature gingham print. I wanted the citizens of Ev to see their future queen looking her absolute finest. Who knew, maybe they’d even rally behind me. I entertained myself briefly with a fantasy of overthrowing the Nome King in a citizens’ rebellion and ruling Ev and Oz by myself, but soon dismissed those thoughts and turned back to my work. I had a lot to do, and very little time in which to do it. I had a seamstress to oversee, menus to revise, a bloodthirsty tyrant to either seduce or escape from, and the pungent but highly effective liquor in the Nome King’s stores wasn’t going to drink itself.
FOURTEEN
“What do you mean, Dorothy and the Nome King are getting married?” Nox was as close to speechless as I’d ever seen him.
Langwidere handed him the piece of heavy, engraved parchment she’d been examining. Greta had realized the invitation was important and had delivered it to her since we were in hiding. I read it over his shoulder.
HER HIGHNESS, DOROTHY GALE, QUEEN OF OZ, AND HIS MAJESTY THE NOME KING INSIST YOU TAKE PLEASURE IN THEIR COMPANY AT THE CELEBRATION OF THEIR MARRIAGE AT THE STROKE OF MIDNIGHT TOMORROW. DINNER AND DANCING TO FOLLOW.
MASQUERADE REQUIRED. REGRETS WILL NOT BE ACCEPTED.
“What the hell is she up to?” I asked.
Lang was looking thoughtful. “More like what he’s up to, I think. He’s looking for a way to control her magic.”
“By marrying her?” I asked.
“I’m sure things are much more enlightened where you come from,” she said drily, “but in Ev a marriage contract is one way of controlling someone’s power. Magic becomes the common property of both partners. It’s magically binding.”
“Creepy,” Madison said with a shudder.
“In our world women used to be property,” I pointed out. “It’s not so different.”
Lang shrugged.
“We don’t do that in Oz,” Nox said hastily.
“No,” Lang said, her voice cool, “you just send the people you don’t love to die, which is so much more civilized.”
“We do that with real estate in Kansas,” I said, hoping to divert what looked like it could shape up into something very nasty very quickly. “Like if you buy a house and then you, um, get married, then you both own . . . the house,” I finished weakly, as Nox and Lang ignored me, shooting daggers at each other.
“Anyway,” Madison said, “we get it. He puts a ring on it, he ends the world. Or whatever. So we have to stop the wedding?”
“We have to kill Dorothy,” Lang said.
“That would definitely stop the wedding,” Madison agreed.
“Not necessarily,” I said with a shiver, thinking of Jellia’s awful, animated corpse. If Dorothy could turn a once-living person into a jerking puppet, I was pretty sure the Nome King could pull off a convincing wedding to a dead girl if it suited his purposes.
“I’m sure he wants Dorothy’s magic,” Lang said. “But he really wants her shoes. Wants them back, technically.”
“Wait, back up. He wants them back? The shoes were his?”
“Rubies are to Ev what emeralds are to Oz,” Lang explained. “They’re not the source of Ev’s magic, but they can be used to store it, and the older they are, the stronger their magic becomes. The Nome King created a ruby necklace centuries ago that he infused with an incredible amount of power. Glinda stole it from him right before Ozma imprisoned her, but managed to transform the necklace into Dorothy’s new red shoes. He still has a certain amount of power over the stones, but he can’t use their magic; they belong to Dorothy now, and they’re useless without her.”
“I am so lost,” Madison muttered.
“All you need to know is that killing Dorothy before they can be married will stop him from being able to use the shoes ever again.”
“That’s why he wanted my shoes,” I said, looking down at my glittery boots. “But he couldn’t control me, so he tried for Dorothy.”
“But what possible motivation would she have for marrying him? If he’s going to be able to control her magic, why would she agree to it?” Nox asked.
“Maybe she doesn’t know. I mean, Dorothy has the biggest ego in the world. Maybe she thinks he actually wants to marry her. Or, maybe she doesn’t have a choice,” I said
. I looked at Lang. “He’s powerful enough to kill her, right? He must be threatening her somehow. Or maybe he’s keeping her prisoner.”
Lang nodded. “He could definitely kill her if he wanted.”
“And solve half our problems,” Nox said.
“But the two of them united . . .” I shivered. “If she is working with him voluntarily, I can’t imagine how awful that would be.”
We all stared at the table in silence.
“But if Ev is affecting her magic the way it is ours . . . ,” Nox said slowly. “She’ll be weak right now. Even if the Nome King’s protecting her.”
Lang nodded. “You’re right. The wedding will be the perfect opportunity to take her out. It’s the chance I’ve been waiting for for years. Defeating him in his own palace will be next to impossible, but she at least will be vulnerable, even if she’s with him.”
“What if she isn’t?” Nox countered.
“Then she and the Nome King will realize I’ve been hiding you,” Lang said. “It’ll be the end of me either way. I can’t keep going like this, anyway.” She waved at the room around her, but I could tell she meant the gesture to encompass her entire life in Ev. I couldn’t imagine what it had been like for her here, completely isolated, working for a tyrant she hated but who wouldn’t hesitate to kill her if she defied him.
I felt a pang in my chest for Lang that surprised me. Like me, she’d been thrown into a situation she hadn’t asked for, and she’d learned a whole new way of surviving, a whole new set of skills. I also didn’t blame her for wanting out, even if it killed her.
“When do we leave?” I asked.
She looked at me, startled. “You’re not going anywhere. You’ll only be in my way. She’ll recognize you and you’ll get us all killed.”
“You can’t possibly go into the Nome King’s palace to kill Dorothy alone,” Nox said in disbelief. “Plus, as far as we know, the only person who can kill Dorothy is Amy.”
“I couldn’t possibly?” she asked, her tone dangerous. No matter what he said to her, it seemed to be exactly the wrong thing.
But he was right. And there was no way I was going to sit around here waiting for the worst.