Lang swept back into the room, and she looked unbelievable. Her costume consisted of a closely fitted bodice of glossy black feathers studded with faceted obsidian that caught and held the lantern light. A long, spectacular train of more feathers left most of her black-stockinged legs bare. The final touch: a glorious black-plumed mask that fitted closely over her face and erupted into a headdress of towering feathers that arced behind her back like wings.
“Wow,” I said, and meant it.
“I do enjoy a particularly good disguise,” Lang said modestly. “Are you ready?”
I grabbed Madison from her room and the four of us strapped knives to our thighs and ankles.
“Let’s go,” Lang said. I squared my shoulders, took Nox’s hand, and followed her out of her hideaway and back to the eerie underground lake where the dragon boat was waiting for us.
“We want to be as unrecognizable as possible,” Lang said when we had settled into the boat and it was paddling away from the shore. “The more time we have before the Nome King sees me, the better.” She lifted her hands and closed her eyes. For a moment, nothing happened. And then Madison gasped.
The dragon boat’s wings were unfurling, their surface glistening with an iridescent sheen like oil on water. White feathers sprouted from the dark, leathery skin, and its scaly, stubby neck elongated into an elegant, sinuous curve like a swan’s. Lang’s fingers were moving and I could smell something electric and spicy, like the sky before a thunderstorm.
Magic.
In front of our eyes, the dragon boat was turning into something unrecognizable: a swan.
In Ev, Lang used her magic to become a chameleon. Someone whose very face changed constantly. Her whole life was a disguise.
I wondered what would happen to her if we won. If she didn’t need to hide anymore. Would she be able to ever go back to being normal? Someone who moved through the world as herself and not someone else.
I wondered if she even knew who she was anymore underneath all the masks. My journey down the Road of Yellow Brick had been a clarifying one—I knew myself better now. And I was stronger. Lang was strong, and crafty—and I just hoped she’d been rewarded with the same sense of self.
As the beetle captain navigated us along Ev’s underground waterways, more and more boats packed with people decked out in spectacular finery began to crowd the river. Some boats were living creatures, like ours: huge swans in thread-thin gold bridles; car-size fish that swam half out of the water; even a giant, decidedly evil-looking crocodile. Others were made of wood and metal, some of them so delicate it looked like a single wave might swamp them, others as massive and solid as tanks.
Like us, the other guests were in disguise. I saw exotic birds and reptiles, wild animals I recognized—and plenty I didn’t. One woman was costumed as an owl, in snow-white feathers scattered with diamonds. Another wore the inky-black pelt of some kind of jungle cat like a second skin, cut so low in the bodice that her overabundant assets threatened to spill out of her ensemble altogether. Their escorts were dressed as the Tin Woodman—that was in poor taste, I thought—and the Wizard of Oz, complete with a three-piece suit and a top hat. Unlike the actual Wizard, he was young, handsome, and possessed of a full head of thick, dark hair. Also unlike the actual Wizard, he was alive. My gaze flicked back to the center of the fake Tin Woodman’s chest, and I thought back to when I held his glowing, throbbing heart in my hand. I shuddered.
I wonder how the people of Ev even knew about birds since they spent so much of their lives underground. Maybe they dreamed of faraway places just the way I had back in Kansas.
Even on the way to a party the huge difference between rich and poor in Ev was totally obvious. The wealthier people had elaborate, lavish costumes, studded with gemstones that sent rainbows of light shooting across the lamp-lit canals. The poor people had simpler boats and costumes; some of them wore only makeshift masks, carved roughly out of wood, and tied over their eyes with ratty bits of string.
“So many people,” Nox said quietly, watching the throngs. Traffic in the canals had slowed to a crawl. Although our faces were hidden underneath our masks, we were careful not to make eye contact with any of the other guests.
“The invitation didn’t offer an opportunity to decline,” Lang said. “And everyone in Ev is afraid of the Nome King, even if they’ve never heard of Dorothy. He is not . . . kind to people who defy him.”
I thought of the scars on Lang’s back and shivered.
Finally I saw what had to be the entrance to the Nome King’s palace: a huge, vaulted cavern that opened directly onto the water. The walls glittered with raw rubies the size of my head and burst out of the rock everywhere like flowers climbing through soil. Huge red lanterns floated in the air, casting a bloodred light over the hordes of boats that looked both eerie and ominous. Next to me, Madison’s, Nox’s, and Lang’s costumes seemed almost to come alive in the unearthly light, as if the costumes themselves were living creatures.
A massive dock extended out into the canal, where a group of heavily armed, white-skinned creatures impassively watched the guests disembark. They were hideously ugly, heavily muscled and covered with scars and tattoos, and they looked mean as hell. Those had to be the Diggers. Liveried valets parked their boats along an obsidian marina.
I expected to hear excited chatter—the babble of voices, conversations, people gossiping the way people always did on the way to parties. But Dorothy’s guests were eerily silent. Rich or poor, every one of Dorothy’s guests had one thing in common: they looked terrified. Their eyes were wide with fear, their faces haunted. You could have heard the flap of a bird’s wings in the huge cavern. I swallowed hard. I couldn’t let my courage falter. Not now.
“This is it,” Lang whispered. She looked at me, then Nox, and abruptly she threw her arms around us, squeezing us so tightly that she knocked the breath out of my lungs. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I’m . . . glad to have your help.”
The words came out rushed and stilted, as if she wasn’t used to being honest.
“Obviously,” Nox said, taking her hand. And then, “Lang. You have to know—”
But she shook her head, cutting him off. “Save it,” she said. “There will be plenty of time to say everything after we kill Dorothy,” she said. “Together.” He nodded and pulled her close again in a tight embrace. When he released her, I saw tears pooling in her green eyes.
Our boat was drawing close to the dock now. The captain tossed a line to one of the valets, and she pulled us close enough to the black stone that we could get out. All around us, other people were doing the same.
We were here.
Whatever else happened at Dorothy’s wedding, I had to give her credit. It was the most impressive turnout of any party I’d ever seen, and that’s including in my mom’s collector’s issue of People magazine from Princess Diana’s royal wedding.
With all these people, staying hidden in the crowd wasn’t going to be a problem. Again, that nagging worry went off in the back of my mind: something felt wrong here. Something like, this wasn’t Dorothy’s style. She was vain and shallow and careless, at least when it came to certain things, but she wasn’t stupid. She always had a plan.
This many people, left to their own devices—it was too risky for someone as paranoid as she was. Even with the Nome King’s forces, there were so many people filing down the gangway and into the Nome King’s palace that it would be impossible to keep track of them all.
Why would Dorothy leave herself open to that kind of a threat?
I shook off my doubts and climbed out of the boat. There was nothing we could do now except stay alert. Even if I’d wanted to, the endless line of boats still streaming into the cavern would make it impossible to leave.
For better or for worse, we were in this mission all the way. Hopefully, we’d have a little luck—or magic—on our side this time.
We followed the crowds through a set of enormous metal doors studded with more rubies, and down a broad hallway. The walls were made of the same polished stone as the dock. The black surface was mirror smooth and I could see my costume’s shadowy reflection. The air was hot and heavy. I could smell the other guests’ perfume and sweat and fear. From somewhere ahead of us, a deep bass line thudded ominously.
It was like being at the world’s worst rave. If this was really the end of everything I’d come to Oz to do, it was a strange backdrop.
The end. Could this really be it? If we didn’t kill Dorothy, she would kill us. Kill us for real. And even if we did defeat her, we still had to face the Nome King. The odds were some of the worst we’d faced, but I had faith. We had come this far. I had come this far.
But what if we did what we’d come to do? If we won, it would mean I’d find a way to get us back to Oz. Which meant keeping my promise to Madison. But if I found a way back to Kansas, I’d have another choice to make.
Home, or Nox? Home, or Oz?
It dawned on me that, once upon a time, Dorothy’d had to make that choice, too.
We marched along until the hallway ended.
When I stepped into the Nome King’s ballroom, right behind Nox, I gasped out loud. The ballroom was unbelievable. I’d never seen anything like it. And despite the situation, the tension—everything that we were about to do—I couldn’t help one last feeling of reluctant astonishment. After all this, it was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen: a vast underground cavern, its high ceiling lit with ruby stalactites that burned with an eerie red light. The shiny floor reflected back up at me as we entered the room. The walls sprouted candelabra like moss; years of use had left twisted, molten sculptures of ancient candlewax collected beneath them. Red moths with wingspans as wide as my arm fluttered through the air, glowing with the same ruby light as the stalactites, shedding shimmering dust with every beat of their lacy wings until the air in the huge cave swirled and eddied with red clouds that pulsed in time with the music.
Despite the cavern’s size, the air was sweltering. Stern-faced sentries ringed the cavern, pale as birds’ eggs and lean as skeletons. Instead of costumes, they wore armor plated together from tarnished steel and patches of leather. Their bare chests were decorated with intricate designs made, Lang had told us, by cutting into their own flesh and packing the wounds with coal dust. They held spears and swords and other, even more sinister weapons that made my skin crawl just to look at: spiky iron balls that dangled from long chains, wooden staves bristling with iron nails, leather whips with steel-barbed tails. I guessed the Nome King liked to remind his guests that they were there thanks to his generosity, and misbehavior was punishable—by death. The Nome King himself was nowhere in sight.
Most of the guests had used the masquerade as an excuse to bare as much skin as possible. They were dressed as old-fashioned courtiers, in elaborate powdered white wigs, velvet suitcoats with tails, and dresses cut dangerously low. Women dripped with jewels, their fingers blazing with golden, gem-studded rings, their exposed skin dusted with glitter and sweat. Even the men wore jewelry in the Nome King’s ballroom: ruby-decorated cuffs and rings, a nod to the Nome King’s favorite stone. I thought of the people we’d seen starving aboveground and how many of them could be fed with what just one of those bracelets cost. Then I put the thought out of my mind. That wasn’t why we were here.
The guests circulated in the immense cave, sipping bloodred liquor from red goblets. The room was as still and quiet as outer space. Half of the attendees were using the opportunity to eat as much as they could.
I snatched a goblet from a passing servant’s tray and took a drink, the heady liquor burning the back of my throat and giving me courage. I noticed that Lang was talking with a man dressed as a fairy. Huge wings of wire and gossamer blossomed from his back, and he wore a crown of onyx and garnet gems. I had no love for the Nome King, but I had to admit, grudgingly, that he threw a good party.
I stayed where I was, directly in front of the raised dais where the ceremony was obviously to take place. It was currently empty. That was when I realized: I hadn’t said good-bye to Nox. Which really meant that dying was not an option. He looked at me, and even behind his mask, his gaze said everything it needed to. He took my hand and squeezed it briefly, before he let me go for good and disappeared into the crowd.
I didn’t see Madison. I could only hope that she was doing what she was supposed to—staying out of sight, and out of harm’s way.
A noise like a clap of thunder suddenly shook the cathedral-like room. The music cut out and the guests immediately fell silent, apprehension spreading across their faces. A fissure in the wall on the far side of the room split open, revealing a yawning black doorway through which more guards carried an immense ruby and obsidian throne. The Nome King lounged in the throne, one black-clad leg thrown over the armrest and dangling lazily. He wore a spiky iron crown on his bald head and a black leather suit with no shirt, the jacket unbuttoned and revealing his pale, hairless torso. Around his neck, a single enormous ruby dangled from a thick iron chain. His long silver nails, filed to sharp tips, matched his pointy-toed black boots that were tipped with shining steel. I took special note of the huge, evil-looking knife strapped to his belt, and shuddered.
The guards set his throne down on the raised dais and immediately prostrated themselves, touching their foreheads to the floor. The guests followed suit, throwing themselves to the ground frantically so as not to be the last person left standing. I quickly did the same.
“Greetings, my loyal and devoted subjects,” the Nome King said. Though he didn’t raise his voice, it carried easily across the huge room. He put the slightest sneer into “loyal,” like he knew most of his subjects were no such thing. They weren’t loyal—they were just terrified of him. “Thank you all for attending my little party.” As if they’d had any other choice, I thought. “Please, treasured peers of the realm, do not bow before your king,” he added. No one moved. No one wanted to be the first to rise.
“Up, up,” the Nome King said impatiently, and at that his guests scrambled to their feet. He looked even more pleased with himself than usual, and that was saying a lot. It wasn’t until he looked over his shoulder that I realized there was a figure standing in the shadows behind him. A figure that, upon his glance, now stepped forward.
I sucked in a breath and took a step back, trying to stay out of sight behind the giant, feathered hat of a woman standing in front of me.
Dorothy. Her skin was pale and flushed from the heat under her elaborate, jeweled mask. She had chosen an appropriate costume: she was dressed as a serpent in a slinky, skintight red dress, encrusted with thousands of tiny red sequins that created the illusion of scales. It was cinched tightly at her tiny waist and then flared out in sinuous curves over her hips and long legs. Her red heels glittered on her feet.
“Dearly beloved,” the Nome King began. “We are gathered here today to . . . oh, wait, I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I?” The Nome King gave a sly, fey giggle and nervous laughter rippled outward among his confused subjects, none of whom understood what was funny but all of whom were eager to assure him they were in on his private joke. “That part comes later. I’m sure you’re all wondering why you’re here. Other than to drink my liquor and eat my food.” He laughed again. “But I have wonderful news for you. As you all surely know, the kingdom of Oz has long been a thorn in our royal side. While Ev withers and its crops fail, Oz prospers. Instead of offering us their assistance, the citizens of Oz live in oblivious selfishness.” Dorothy cleared her throat. The Nome King’s bony hands tightened into fists.
“Today,” he continued, “all of that will change. For today marks the day that Oz and Ev will be united as one. Two kingdoms, once sundered, brought together in peace and prosperity, governed by the most powerful and benevolent ruler either country has ever known.” Next to him, Dorothy stiffened. If I’d caught his misstep, I knew she had, too. One ruler. Not two.
It wasn’t hard to guess what that meant.
“All of you have the honor of witnessing the greatest moment in Ev’s history,” the Nome King continued, not realizing the mistake he’d just made.
He beckoned for Dorothy, who walked daintily up to the Nome King’s throne, where he rose to his feet and clasped her hand in his and raised them both over his head for the crowd.
“My fellow citizens of Ev,” the Nome King intoned, “prepare yourselves for—”
Dorothy cleared her throat again, more significantly this time, and the Nome King stopped, looking at her in puzzlement. If she suspected, like I did, that he was planning on sacrificing her right here, in front of the entire crowd, she didn’t look too worried about it.
Instinctively I looked at her shoes again and felt an answering throb in my boots.
It dawned on me. Of course, I thought. She can use them. That bitch always had something up her sleeve, didn’t she?
Now that I was looking for it, I could see the haze of magic pulsing around her, as if the shoes were even stronger now that they’d been returned to the land they came from. She surveyed the crowd with icy grandeur, one hand perched on the back of the Nome King’s throne. A strange little creature huddled at her feet, costumed as a small shrub.
“My bride is correct to remind me of why we are here,” the Nome King said finally. “Before the ceremony begins, we must celebrate this momentous occasion!” A rictus grin spread across his face. “Let us dance and be merry!” he crowed, clapping his hands.
The woman next to me shifted nervously on her feet. Other guests exchanged brief, uncertain glances.
“I said dance!” the Nome King screamed. “Be merry!”
He must have taken a page from Dorothy’s book. The guests stood, stricken, and then one by one they began to shuffle their feet back and forth. They looked like animated corpses with their weird, sad, silent, shambling dance. Their hands and arms flapped aimlessly. Without music or rhythm to follow, they kicked randomly into the air, or spun around in place, their eyes filled with fear.
In a hidden corner I hadn’t noticed, a ragtag orchestra of Munchkin musicians suddenly struck up a jerky, tuneless waltz. Now everyone was dancing their off-kilter, graceless dance, spasming back and forth like zombies at the world’s saddest disco. The musicians looked just as awful. One of them, I saw, had his ankles chained together. Another was missing an ear; a third had a red-stained bandage wrapped around his chest.
I looked away. I couldn’t help them. I could only do what we’d come here for: finish Dorothy and defeat the Nome King, once and for all.
Dorothy threw her head back with a jubilant grin, keeping time to the beat as if she truly believed everyone was having the time of their lives. I lurched back and forth with everyone around me so as not to draw attention to myself, but unlike the others, whose movements were now growing increasingly frenzied, I was careful to conserve my energy.
Near me, they were already starting to flag. Half starved, exhausted, and terrified, they couldn’t keep up the pace. While the Nome King clapped along to the horrible music and Dorothy cheerfully tapped her foot and shimmied her hips, more than one person around me collapsed to the ground. As soon as they fell, the Diggers descended on them, dragging their inert bodies out of the ballroom.
Once they were outside, I heard their screams over the music.
It took everything I had not to run out there. To rescue them. Whatever was happening to them was almost too horrible to contemplate—but I knew that helping them wouldn’t do anyone in the room any good unless Nox, Madison, Lang, and I could first free them from the Nome King’s sick little games forever. So I shut my ears against the terrible cries even as I felt bile building in the pit of my stomach.
At last, the Nome King held up a hand and the music screeched to a halt. The musicians were panting, wild-eyed and shaky from exertion. One of them had collapsed during it all, and his companions were deliberately avoiding looking at the place where he’d stood only moments earlier.
The guests stopped dancing immediately. Once more, silence fell upon the room. From outside, one more tormented scream pierced the quiet and then, abruptly, was cut off.
No one said a word. The Nome King got to his feet.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today,” he began again. Again, he giggled at a joke that only he could really understand. As he droned on about how much Oz owed Ev, and about how he and Dorothy were going to change everything, I could almost feel his voice slithering through my body like a bug that had crawled in through my ear and was now trying to eat my body from the inside out.
I wanted to retch, but I kept my eyes on the ground, terrified that he would somehow see me and recognize me. Dorothy hovered behind his throne, still smiling vacantly.
All I had to do was stay out of sight. Lang would wait until the actual ceremony to give the signal, I knew. I just had to endure this charade until then.
At last, the Nome King fell silent. He held out his hand to Dorothy, and she stepped forward. “My fellow citizens of Ev,” the Nome King intoned, “I give you your future queen, the Witchslayer, the rightful ruler of Oz.”
Dorothy pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin with pride as she addressed her not-so-adoring audience. Never once had she failed to rise to an occasion. You had to hand it to her—the girl loved attention.
“Greetings, my dear subjects,” she purred. “I’m so excited to meet you all. But first, I have a very important announcement.” She raised her mask. “I want you to know we have one more incredibly special guest with us here today,” she said.
Her already huge smile widened even further than I thought was possible as she continued. “I have to say, I normally loathe party crashers, but I’m just tickled that someone as special as this would show up for little old me. With or without an invitation.”
Dorothy looked down at the crowd.
My pulse quickened. She was looking right at me.
“Hi, Amy,” she said. Her grotesque grin had suddenly transformed into a joyful snarl. “Are you going to kill me now?”