What a waste killing him would be. But it’s like they say—you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Even Toto refused to change his ways when he got older. The Nome King, I was sure, wouldn’t be any better at it.
At any rate, he must have taken to heart what I’d said to him about weddings being a festive occasion. As the guests gaped up at him like sheep, he invited them to dance. And to my delight, they did. The musicians played a wonderful waltz. The guests danced in beautiful patterns, their faces glowing with joy and exertion.
I clapped my hands in delight, transported briefly from my more immediate problems. The dance was a little ungraceful, but perhaps that was just the local custom. I snatched a glass of something silver and sparkling off a passing waiter’s tray and surreptitiously chugged it down in one gulp. I’d already sampled some of the Nome King’s most bracing liquor to soothe my nerves before my big moment, but one more sip never hurts, does it?
I’m sure the guests would have danced all night if he’d let them, but the Nome King had more important business to take care of. It was sad, really. I would have so loved to find the man who was a perfect match for my abilities and beauty.
Of course, it was likely that that person didn’t exist. If he was out there, I certainly would have met him by now.
Suddenly another memory flashed through my mind, unbidden and unwelcome.
The Other Place. Aunt Em had had a hired hand for a while who was as handsome as the day is long and who always paid me extra attention. He’d leave little gifts on my windowsill—a pretty hair ribbon, a robin’s egg he’d found in the long grass, a pie still warm out of the oven—and sometimes when I caught him looking at me he’d turn bright red and look away. I’d been wildly in love with him, of course, but much too shy in those days to do anything about it.
Why was I thinking of him? At this moment? It made absolutely no sense. And yet the more I tried to swat the memory away, the stronger it became.
Tommy. He’d been called Tommy.
I wondered where he was now. Then I realized he was long dead. Time moved differently there. But before that—if he’d found some other farm girl to fall in love with and marry. If he’d ever had a family. A farm of his own. Maybe he’d moved to the big city. He had been so handsome—maybe he’d become a movie star. As the Nome King droned on, I remembered Tommy’s smell—new hay and clean sweat—and the transparent blue of his eyes. I remembered how he’d always called me “Miss Dorothy” and tipped his hat when he saw me, even though I told him a thousand times that just plain Dorothy would do. I remembered—
No. I didn’t want to remember. That life was over.
Tommy was beautiful and charming, but when I came back from Oz, he had joined the others in shunning me. “Miss Dorothy, you seem changed,” he’d said. He’d preferred the old me, the one who had not an ounce of magic or courage. I didn’t belong with him any more than I belonged with my current homicidal fiancé. At least he recognized I was royalty.
Another memory flooded in—Aunt Em baking pies in the kitchen of the old homestead. She’d made me pie after Tommy slighted me. “Nothing cures a broken heart like pie,” she’d said.
“I don’t want my heart. But I’ll take the pie,” I’d quipped. I could see Aunt Em’s smile and hear her laugh and I could almost taste the pie. At the time it tasted like hope and cinnamon.
With some effort, I dragged myself back to the present, only to hear the Nome King quietly clear his throat. He was looking at me with surprise and some annoyance. I wondered when he’d stopped talking.
“My fellow citizens of Ev,” the Nome King said pointedly, “I give you your future queen, the Witchslayer, the rightful ruler of Oz.”
It was my cue—the moment I’d been waiting for. Immediately, all my senses sharpened; my memories vanished like smoke on the wind. This was it. This was my only chance, I knew, to escape the man who wanted to steal the fruits of all my hard work and claim it as his own.
Being a woman, it turns out, isn’t any different in a make-believe world than it is in the real one.
I stepped forward and took off my mask. And then I looked directly at Amy. It was ironic that she was the key to my escape after trying so very hard to end me. I looked at her; the dress she’d chosen wasn’t horrible. Losing the pink hair, though, was a big mistake. But it was perhaps the best I’d seen her look since that trailer dropped her in my kingdom.
Her eyes flickered with more than recognition. More than hate. She knew what I was up to. She was smarter than I had ever given her credit for, after all. Once upon a time we were both in the Other Place wishing for some magic, excitement, and friends. And here we were now. Two tornados later. Two girls from the Other Place all dressed up at my wedding ball . . .
“Hi, Amy,” I said. “Are you going to kill me now?”
And the ballroom broke out into chaos.
TWENTY
I wasn’t caught entirely off guard by Dorothy’s words. That small niggling part of my brain had told me to be prepared for something like this. And as soon as she spoke, I realized exactly what she was doing.
The Nome King had said there would be one ruler. That meant he never planned for Dorothy to survive. He just wanted to marry her to get her magic, and then he was going to kill her. Clearly she knew this—and she wanted to escape, and she wanted me to help her do it. She was trying to create a distraction for the Nome King so that he didn’t kill her.
At her side, the Nome King was muttering something that sounded like a curse but was most likely a spell. A black cloud formed in the air over his head, the darkness spinning and cracking with forks of red lightning.
He held up his hands, preparing to attack, but whether he was going to go for me or Dorothy was hard to tell. My guess was me; he couldn’t kill Dorothy until he’d stolen her magic. And he needed to complete the wedding ceremony to do that.
All around me, pandemonium was breaking out. People were screaming, pulling off their masks, stampeding toward the entrance to the ballroom. Diggers lashed out with whips and knives on the unarmed guests, and within minutes the air in the ballroom stunk of blood.
I had to fight against the tide of panicking guests to stay close to the dais. Where were Madison and Nox? And where was Lang? I didn’t dare turn around and look. Dorothy didn’t know I hadn’t come to the wedding alone. If they could avoid her while I faced her down, they had a chance to get away. Leave me here, I thought at Nox ferociously, hoping in vain that he’d somehow added psychic powers to his résumé without telling me. Get Madison somewhere safe. Don’t try to rescue me.
Because this was my task. It was my responsibility. All of this had happened because I hadn’t been able to bring myself to kill her before.
I fought my way through the oncoming wave of people, trying to reach the dais. The Nome King hurled a bolt of red lightning at my head. I ducked and it hit the floor behind me with a sizzling hiss.
Okay, he was definitely targeting me first. And Dorothy was slinking toward the edge of the stage, her eyes on him.
I’d been right. This was all part of her plan—I was here to distract him while she made her escape. And the cavern must have a secret exit—the one she and the Nome King had come through. If she got away now, there was no telling if I’d have another chance.
Everywhere I looked, the Nome King’s soldiers were springing into action. Dorothy had caught them off guard, but they recovered quickly. I knew if I ended up in their grip, it was game over. I could fight off a few of them, but I was horribly outnumbered. One of them came at me, his knife raised for a killing strike. I ducked and twisted, but he followed my movements effortlessly. The Nome King took training his fighters seriously.
Then again, so did the Order. This was what I was made for.
I dodged him again, circling back to get enough room to strike. He stuck by me like a leech, lunging forward again and again with his knife.
But he was favoring his right side, where a huge map of scars suggested an old,
still-painful injury. I feinted to the right and saw what I was looking for—just the barest hint of a flinch as he moved to protect his vulnerable side. And that was my chance. I leapt up and spun in midair, bringing my booted foot around in a powerful kick that connected solidly with his knife hand. The blade clattered to the floor and I kicked it away, going for my own weapons.
Before I could get to them, he’d already recovered from my attack and was launching one of his own. He leapt forward, wrapping lean but incredibly strong arms around my torso and pinning my own arms to my sides.
I kicked backward with all my strength and heard a satisfying snap as my boot connected with his knee. He bellowed in pain but refused to let go, dragging me to the floor with him as he collapsed. Dorothy watched the fracas with an amused smile. The Nome King glanced at her and she froze. A frown crossed his face.
He was starting to figure out she’d planned this, too.
And then I saw Nox fighting his way toward me. “Get out of here!” I yelled at him, suddenly feeling panicky. “I’ll take care of my own damn self!”
My exasperation gave me the extra surge of strength I needed and I broke the guard’s grip, elbowing him in the face with a satisfying crunch. “The dais!” I screamed at Nox, pointing. “It’s all that matters!” His expression faltered but, seeing that I’d broken free, he nodded at me and turned to fight his way toward where Dorothy was edging slowly but surely toward the secret exit.
The pandemonium in the ballroom was working against us, but at least it was slowing the guards down, too. A shrieking woman battering ineffectively at another man trying to tear the gold necklace from her throat lurched into the path of two guards headed in my direction. I shoved my way through the crowd and leapt onto the dais, where the Nome King stood, sneering.
“Well, well,” he said. “If it isn’t my old friend Miss Gumm.”
He raised his hands again, preparing to throw another bolt of magic at me. If he hit me directly, I knew he would kill me. My magic was still weak, but I dug deep within myself, and managed to throw up a defensive shield just in time.
Then Lang was at my side. She hit the Nome King square in the chest with a fireball that set his velvet suit ablaze with blue and gold flames. He made a fist and punched the air and I felt the impact myself as his magical blow thudded into her jaw, snapping her head back. But she held her ground, advancing toward him. He made a fist, and she cried out, clutching at the silver bracelet around her wrist. It began to glow red and the metal seared its way into her skin. I winced at the smell of burning flesh.
“You ungrateful little traitor,” he said, his voice dripping with hate. “I made you what you are. How dare you betray me?”
“You didn’t make me into anything,” Lang snarled through teeth gritted against the pain. She closed her eyes, screaming something I couldn’t catch. As I watched in horror, her whole hand began to smoke. I realized, too late, what she was doing.
“Don’t do it!” I screamed as her hand caught fire. The Nome King reached for her, but it was too late. The flesh of her hand blackened, sizzled, and peeled away, revealing charred bone and bloody gristle. The Nome King’s bracelet slid off her mangled wrist and fell to the ground.
“I’m free,” she said, panting. Her eyes were wild. The pain had to be unbearable. But Lang’s determination wouldn’t quit. “You can’t hurt me anymore,” she yelled. “No one can hurt me anymore.” There was no mistaking the triumph in her voice now. She sounded exultant.
I wondered what she could have been in a different world. A world that didn’t demand this kind of sacrifice. A world that didn’t punish people for resisting tyranny. A world that didn’t hurt you every chance it got.
It was too late for Lang. And now I would never know either.
The Nome King summoned another, enormous cloud of magic that hovered in the air above him, crackly with mystic fury.
He’s going to kill her, I thought desperately. This close, there was no way he could miss.
But maybe I could still help her defend herself.
“Let me combine my magic with yours!” I screamed.
She just ignored me. The rippling nimbus over the Nome King’s head glowed red-hot as the magic gathered into a single spear of jittery red light. He sent it hurtling toward her at the very second she lunged forward.
She was reaching for the knife at his belt. Her fingers closed around the handle as the bolt slammed into her body. She screamed—the most awful scream of pain I’d ever heard, and she crumpled against him.
He grabbed the front of her costume and held her aloft. I watched helplessly. “You think you can use my own weapon against me?” The Nome King cackled triumphantly, laughing at her limp form.
Lang’s head lolled to the side and she looked at me. She was smiling. “Take care of Nox,” she said to me. And then Langwidere buried the Nome King’s knife in his chest to the hilt. Somehow she had managed to pull it from its sheath with her good hand. The metal flared with dark magic and burned into her palm, but she didn’t let go.
A tremendous boom echoed through the cavern, knocking me to the ground with its force. Everything in the ballroom froze: the Diggers attacking the guests, the guests fleeing the Diggers, the very air itself seemed to hold its breath. The Nome King’s mouth dropped open in a round O of surprise. He brought one hand to his chest, looking down at the hilt protruding from it in shock.
“My own knife,” he whispered. “You little traitor.”
And then he toppled slowly backward and hit the ground with a thud.
I crawled forward to where Langwidere had collapsed on the dais.
Nox leapt onto the platform, with Madison close behind him He crouched over Lang’s body, her breathing fast and shallow.
“How did you know that would work?” I asked her.
“I didn’t.” She grimaced; I realized she was trying to smile. “Glad it did.”
“We have to get help,” Nox said to Lang. “You’re hurt. We have to get you back to the boat.”
Lang’s eyes were glazing over with pain.
“I’m not hurt,” she whispered. “I’m dying.”
“Don’t say that,” Nox said desperately.
She coughed weakly. “You never could handle the truth.” Her eyes rolled toward me. “You’re a good fighter, Amy. Now go find that bitch Dorothy and write my name with her blood.”
I grabbed her hand. “I swear I will.”
She smiled up at me, her eyelids closing. “And tell Melindra,” she gasped, fighting for breath. “Tell her I said . . .”
But she never finished the sentence. As I watched, the rise and fall of her chest slowed. And then it stopped.
“She’s gone,” Nox whispered. His eyes were brimming over with tears. I wiped away my own.
And then I looked around.
Dorothy and her little servant were gone.
We were alone.
TWENTY-ONE
“Grief later,” I said, pulling Nox to his feet before he had time to let it all sink in. “We have to stop Dorothy and end this once and for all.”
We raced down the narrow passage behind the Nome King’s throne. I hoped that Madison was somewhere behind us, but now I could only worry about Dorothy.
We’d only been on the platform for moments; she couldn’t have gotten too far. When I listened hard, I could even hear the echo of her footsteps, somewhere in the distance. We followed the twisting, turning hallway down innumerable branches and forks, and I had an odd certainty—for reasons I didn’t totally understand—that we were gaining on her.
I was struck with déjà vu from the very first time I’d tried to kill her, when I’d chased her through the halls of the Emerald Palace, before the Tin Woodman came to her rescue. They say history repeats itself. I just hoped the ending was better this time.
Then the passage dead-ended at last in a large chamber, its walls covered floor to ceiling in bookshelves. Dorothy and her strange little servant—still dressed as a bush—we
re backed up against a shelf piled high with volumes bound in what looked an awful lot like human skin.
She’d taken a wrong turn, I realized. Now she was trapped.
There were three of us. There was one of her.
She realized her mistake at the same moment I did.
“Dammit,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I should have made a map.” She looked at my feet with a hateful expression. “I see you still have my shoes,” she said.
“They’re nobody’s shoes,” I said cautiously. My magic was still weak, but so was hers. If her defenses were down, plain old-fashioned hand-to-hand combat might do the trick where magic couldn’t. “If anything, they belong to Lurline.”
Lurline, I thought. If there was ever a good time to make a surprise appearance, now would be it. Lurline, I thought at my shoes. Tell me what I need to do. Please.
“Lurline,” Dorothy said, rolling her eyes. “Whatever. Glinda gave them to me. No take-backs.”
“And now you have a new pair,” I pointed out. “So you don’t need these.” That was all it took to set her off: Dorothy threw herself at me like a little kid who’d been told Christmas had been canceled, spitting and screeching, and we fell to the floor. She raked her nails down my face, leaving long, bloody tracks, while her servant battered at my calves with a book. Nox was trying to pull Dorothy off me; Madison hit her over the head with an inkwell. But Dorothy was like a force of nature, unstoppable in her rage.
“Why won’t you just . . . leave . . . me . . . alone!” she screamed, banging my head into the floor with every word until I saw stars. I elbowed her hard in the jaw and she gasped in pain but didn’t relax her grip.
“Lurline, tell me what to do!” I yelled.
We are made of what shapes us. Her voice echoed in my head. The soothing power of her touch flowed through me.
My boots began to glow with silver light. Dorothy stopped hitting me, her jaw slackening in surprise. Her outline—and Madison’s, and Nox’s, and even the shrub’s—began to shine with the same silvery, angelic glow. The library around us shivered and dissolved.