Ruler of Beasts (Dorothy Must Die, #0.6)

Ozma looked stunned. “I did not know it was so bad there,” she whispered.

“The people above the earth are starving,” the Nome King said. “The riches of Oz are vast. Why would you not agree to share them? From what I hear, the Emerald Palace is plenty big enough for two.” His words were reasonable, but there was a dangerous glitter in his pale eyes.

The Lion remembered himself. He was the King of the Beasts and the Protector of Ozma, and he was not to be trifled with. “You didn’t ask to share!” the Lion roared furiously. “You’re tunneling under the Deadly Desert to invade Oz!”

The Nome King barely flinched at the Lion’s fierce roar. He drew himself up to his full height, his eyes blazing. “Did you expect us to beg, Lion? To come crawling through the desert like some poor relation? Oz is no greater a country than Ev, and no more deserving of its riches!”

“But why are you invading?” the Lion protested. “You could have sent a messenger! Anything other than spending years digging under the desert in secret.”

“The Wizard was no friend of the Land of Ev,” the Nome King said coldly. “I did not know Ozma had replaced him.”

The Lion narrowed his eyes. He’s lying, he thought. Did Ozma guess? If she did, she was hiding it. What did she have up her sleeve? He made a noise of protest, but Ozma held up a hand to silence him.

“My dear, brave Lion,” she said gently. “The Nome King is right. If the Wizard is partly responsible for the suffering of the people of Ev, it’s our duty to help them. I will do what the king asks, if it means avoiding war.”

How could the Wizard be responsible if no one knew for certain that Ev even existed? Ozma wasn’t making any sense. But the Nome King’s eyes lit up, and his warriors took a step back, apparently deciding they would not be needed to defend him.

“We have been preparing for war for a long time, and my people are angry,” he said. “Peace will not be quite as easy as you think, Ozma. Ev is not some charity case that you can dismiss with a few loaves of bread.”

“How can we avoid a battle?” Ozma asked, her eyes wide. Lion couldn’t believe she was still negotiating, when it looked like she had already lost.

The Nome King was silent for a long moment, and then a slow, nasty smile spread across his face. The Lion shivered. And cursed his courage for leaving him when he needed it most.

“I will make you a bargain,” he said. “You will allow me to use my magic to disguise you. If your little companion can recognize you, I will return to Ev.”

“And if he fails?”

The Nome King smiled. “If I am to sacrifice everything, then your cost must be a great one, too. If he fails, you will remain enchanted—forever.”

Ozma tilted her head, considering. “If you return to Ev, you’re not sacrificing anything at all except a war with my people.”

“You see what Ev is like now,” the Nome King hissed. “This is our last chance to survive. If you defeat me, Princess Ozma, my kingdom is ruined. My people will starve. I would not dream of asking any less of you.”

“No!” the Lion roared. “If you are enchanted, Princess, he will claim Oz for himself!”

“Perhaps,” the Nome King said idly, picking his nails with a triumphant look in his eyes.

“That’s not—” the Lion began desperately, but Ozma cut him off.

“He gets six guesses,” she said.

The Nome King laughed. “Are you kidding?”

“Five.”

“Three,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“I’m not—” the Lion said.

“Agreed,” Ozma interrupted, extending her hand to the Nome King. He took it, and their clasped hands blazed with a searing green light. Green lightning cracked across the cavern, and for just a second a cool, refreshing breeze wafted past them. The Nome King yelped in surprise and yanked his hand back.

“What have you done, witch?”

“I’m a fairy, not a witch,” Ozma said calmly. “And I’ve bound you to your word with all the power of Oz.”

The Nome King stared at her, his eyes glittering with suspicion, but Ozma returned his gaze with an innocent smile. “May I speak to the Lion before you enchant me, Your Highness?” she asked sweetly.

He scowled. “If you must, but be quick about it. My people are hungry. I am not interested in delays.”

Ozma knelt down beside the Lion and hugged him. “Trust me, dear Lion,” she whispered into his ear.

“How will I know you?” the Lion asked. “What if I fail?”

“You won’t,” Ozma said confidently. “You can’t.”

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