Dorothy was everything. She had pushed them all to change from heartless to full of heart. From dumb to smart. From fearful to fearless. It had been forever, but he still hated that she had gone from here to home.
“Dorothy was interesting,” the Lion finally roared crossly, waving his paws. “Not like this bloody stupid forest and all these wretched animals! What am I going to do with the rest of my life, Cornelius? Being king was fun at first, but now all I do is sit around all day. I can’t even go on an adventure, because kings aren’t supposed to leave their subjects on their own.”
Cornelius’s whiskers twitched as his mind raced. “You could have a tournament, sir,” he suggested.
The Lion brightened. “A tournament!” he exclaimed, clapping Cornelius on the back with an enormous paw. The rabbit winced. “You’re a genius! That’s the perfect thing. It’ll kill an entire weekend, at least, and afterward we can have a feast. Spread the word at once.”
Cornelius hadn’t seen the Lion so excited in months. He raced off into the Forest of the Beasts to tell the Lion’s subjects, feeling very pleased with himself. He’d succeeded in distracting the Lion—and saving his own skin—for the time being. Let the Lion eat some other hapless forest creature. Cornelius was intent on keeping his post—and the Lion’s gratitude.
TWO
The morning of the First Annual Beasts’ Boredom Battle was clear and sunny. A cool breeze rustled in the branches. Cornelius had gone to great lengths to turn the Lion’s royal clearing into a suitable battleground. The grassy center had been dug up, and the earth beneath packed into a hard, flat surface. The perimeter of the clearing was hung with banners. A group of stoats and weasels played a rousing march on tiny trumpets, and birds fluttered through the air with brightly colored ribbons in their beaks like living streamers. Dozens of animals, ranging from fierce-eyed hares to massive, muscular wolves and bobcats, were assembled in the clearing, ready to fight. The Lion sprawled on his platform, eyes heavy-lidded, feigning indifference to the clamor below him. Only Cornelius could tell from the glint in his eyes that he was following the action eagerly.
Once upon a time, the Lion had feared them. It seemed almost impossible looking at him now. But a broken twig behind him in the forest would have sent him scurrying up a tree back then. Once, he had literally hid in one all night until the tiniest of hares had moved from his spot beneath it. The Lion knew he was larger than the hare, stronger than the hare, but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t bear to have the hare’s beady little eyes boring into his. Somehow, he would always blink first. Now he could gobble anything up before it had a chance to blink. Now they were his subjects. Now they were the ones who jumped at the mere hint of a wave of his tail.
The weasels blew a fanfare on their trumpets, and the first of the competitors stepped forward into the ring: a hare and a badger. The badger bared her sharp little teeth, and the hare boxed at the air with his powerful forepaws. Barely waiting for the signal, the two animals leapt at each other.
This is what he was waiting for. Action. The Lion clapped his paws in delight, and then remembered he was pretending to be bored and sank back on his haunches. The Scarecrow had told him once that a ruler was not supposed to appear to be excited about anything—he’d read it in one of his books. But the Lion wasn’t so sure. Wouldn’t his excitement encourage his subjects to do more of what he wanted? He wanted—he needed—more of this. He didn’t know how to put it into words like the Scarecrow could, but seeing the animals facing off in the makeshift ring was the first time he had felt anything at all in days.
The hare clocked the badger on the side of the head. Snarling, the badger sank her teeth into the hare’s side. The assembled animals cheered fiercely as the smell of blood carried across the clearing. Ordinarily, they were more or less peaceful, and took the worst of their disputes to the Lion to be settled. But they were still animals, and deep down there was something inside each of them that would rather bite and claw their way to a solution than talk it out.
The Lion wasn’t sure who he was rooting for. The hare was feisty and fast. But the badger was single-minded and would not let go. The hare pummeled the badger furiously with his fists, but she only sank her teeth in deeper. His eyes glazed over with pain, and finally he flopped to the ground in defeat. “I yield,” he gasped. The triumphant badger released him. The hare limped off to lick his wounds as the other animals crowded around the badger in congratulations. Cornelius quickly swept the ring to prepare it for the next fight.
The Lion stretched and leapt lightly down from his platform, pacing toward the defeated hare. “Good fight,” he said, nodding his head at the competitors.
“Thank you, sir,” the hare said, still cleaning blood from his fur. The Lion smiled and licked his lips, opening his jaws wide.