“Where is Glinda now?”
“Banished,” Ozma said succinctly. “She’ll have a heck of a time getting out of the prison world I put her in. I suppose she’ll figure out a way eventually—nothing in Oz stays the same forever, as you know—but I’ll have plenty of time to figure out what I’m going to do about her when she frees herself.” Ozma sighed. “I don’t like fighting with people,” she said a little sadly. “I just wish Oz could stay calm and peaceful and everyone could get along.”
“She got the Wizard’s necklace,” the Lion said.
Ozma shrugged. “It won’t do her any good in there. It’s a powerful weapon, but there’s no one for her to fight.”
“She said she was going to make a present for someone.” He didn’t say anything about Dorothy. He just couldn’t.
Ozma shook her head. “I have no idea what she meant by that. She’s trapped, and it’ll take a lot more than a fancy ruby necklace to get her out of there.”
The Lion nodded, but he wasn’t convinced. Neither, he was sure, was Ozma. She was too canny to dismiss Glinda’s threat so easily. More likely she didn’t trust him to the extent that she once had—or at least she wasn’t going to trust him with any serious information. He’d already proven that Glinda could control him. Ozma wouldn’t let him fail her twice. But the green eyes that gazed up at him were as guileless as ever, and she quickly changed the subject. “Did you get enough to eat while I was resting?”
“Oh yes,” the Lion replied, eager for a safer subject. He’d had enough of politics. Let Ozma worry about Glinda’s sinister plans—he suddenly remembered that he had a forest of his own to rule. “I suppose I should return to the Forest of the Beasts,” he said, hoping Ozma would protest. She didn’t.
“I think that’s a good idea.”
“I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“No,” Ozma agreed, batting her eyelashes at him to soften the harshness of her reply. His heart sank a little. Thanks to Glinda, his cushy stay at the palace was over. It had been good while it lasted.
Ozma gave him a kiss on the forehead, and he allowed himself one last, wistful glance around her chambers. He could have stayed here like a prince if he’d played his cards better. But at least he was returning to being a king.
“You said once that we were the same. Both of us figuring out how to rule,” he offered. It wasn’t a plea. But he was still holding out for a reprieve.
“I thought so, too, at first. But we are more different than we are the same. You are not Wicked, dear Lion. But sometimes you put what you want over what is good for Oz. I don’t know how much you care about good over bad, Lion. I think that you just like the thrill. You love the fight more than you love what you are fighting for. Be careful, there.”
Her words stung more than Glinda’s spell had. He blinked hard at Ozma. “How should I get back to the Kingdom of the Beasts?” he asked, hoping Ozma would offer a magical ride back to his home. She looked surprised.
“The same way you got here, I would imagine. Thank you again for coming to visit me, and for all your help. I’m afraid I must rest now. Please do come see me again someday.”
He was dismissed. He slunk back into the corridor, his ears burning. It was true that he hadn’t been entirely honest with Ozma, but he’d still risked his life to help her battle the Nome King. He’d saved her in the caverns—not only that, he’d saved Oz. He was the one who’d found the necklace and carried it to safety, and he was the one who’d faced the worst of Glinda’s wrath. He could have been killed at any point. And what did he get in repayment? A summary dismissal, without even the offer of a last meal with Ozma before he left the Emerald City? The queen had a lot of nerve sending him away like a bad kitty who’d peed on her best quilt. Was it his imagination, or did even the servants give him pitying glances as he slunk past them down the hall?
Resentment burned within him—resentment and something else. It was almost as though seeing Glinda had somehow reactivated the spell she’d put on him. He could feel those same fiery sparks crawling through his coat—only this time they were invigorating. Glinda had power, Glinda had a plan, and Glinda had trusted him with an important mission, too. Ozma had treated the witch the same way she’d just treated him—throwing her out like a houseguest who’d stayed past her welcome. Maybe he and Glinda had more in common than he thought. Maybe that was why Glinda had chosen him. Not just because of his courage. Because she saw something in him that Ozma didn’t. That Ozma couldn’t. She saw how powerful he could be if the right person believed in him.