“What a lovely and thoughtful gift,” I said.
“Really, it’s nothing. I shall be honored if you will join me this evening for a banquet.” He smiled broadly, his silver eyes glittering dangerously. “I simply won’t take no for an answer. And I have some information that might be of interest to you, dear Dorothy. I imagine you’re having a bit of trouble with your magic shoes?”
“Nonsense,” I said briskly.
“My dear, I’m quite aware that you’re lying.”
I didn’t like the sound of that at all. It was almost . . . unfriendly. Besides, how could he possibly tell? I quickly calculated my options. There was no point in lying. Maybe if I played along I could figure out what he was really up to.
I sighed. “Well, I suppose there might be a few tiny issues. How did you know?”
“Because I made them.” His smile was almost oily.
“You . . . made them?” As far as I’d known, Glinda had made the shoes. Certainly she’d been the one to give them to me. How was it possible that he even knew about them? Where had they come from?
“In a sense,” he said, with a sharp look, as though he’d just revealed something he hadn’t meant to. He seemed to be considering whether to tell me more. “Their original material is from the kingdom of Ev,” he said finally.
This was something Glinda had never bothered to mention. If there is a mine full of what my shoes are made of, imagine what I could do with all that magic! How very, very interesting, I thought. How very interesting, indeed. There was more to the Nome King—and Ev—than met the eye.
“Hmmmm,” I said. “I do use them rather a lot, you know.”
He smiled. “I’m aware of that, Dorothy. But we have a bargain now. And it’s good for you to remember just how much you have to lose if you fail to keep your end of it.”
Well. I didn’t like that at all. He might be good-looking, but I’ve never been one for the authoritative kind. Other than myself, obviously.
“I didn’t agree to anything,” I said, my voice clipped. He raised a hairless eyebrow, and I carefully moderated my tone. “I mean, my lord—you must forgive me, my palace falling down on my head has put me out of sorts—that I don’t recall the exact terms of our, um, deal. Something about me helping you in exchange for support regaining the throne? But I feel certain I’d remember if we’d discussed the details.”
He smiled at me in amusement, and for the briefest second, I felt like a mouse pinned by a cat. But magic or no, I wasn’t Dorothy Gale for nothing, and I wasn’t going to let some creepily hot cave dweller put me off my game. I stared him down—and saw a flicker of respect in his eyes.
“Of course, Dorothy,” he said smoothly. “Your reputation as a formidable negotiator precedes you. I wouldn’t dream of trying to corner you into an agreement—I’ve overstepped myself. You know how it is when one is so used to dealing with inferiors. It’s been a long time since I encountered an equal.”
“Oh, I know all about that,” I agreed. “I’d be delighted, of course, to join you this evening. And now, if you’ll excuse me to my toilette . . . ?”
“But of course,” he said smoothly with an ironic little bow. He turned to the door. “For your safety,” he added over his shoulder, “I’d recommend you stay in your chamber until then.”
“For my safety,” I echoed sardonically.
But he’d already shut the door behind him—and as it slammed closed, I heard the unmistakable noise of a bolt sliding home. I wasn’t going anywhere until he decided to let me. For now, anyway.
And then it occurred to me: he might have apologized to me, but he’d neatly sidestepped the question of restoring my shoes’ power.
It seemed my status leaned significantly toward the “prisoner” side of the equation. But no matter; I was up for the challenge, and the Nome King was an intriguing—and attractive—opponent. Amy was so obvious. So tacky. And ultimately, so boring.
The Nome King was right. It was a treat to face an equal. Even if it was looking more and more like he might be my enemy.
But I’d conquered men before with a single bat of my magically enhanced eyelashes. Or a show of my devastating wit. And if that didn’t work, I could spell them into my arms. But my lashes were decidedly magic free right now. Still, I had my looks. If I couldn’t talk him into reactivating my shoes’ power, maybe I could trick him into it. And he’d be a lot more likely to miss whatever I could cook up if he was distracted by my ravishing beauty.
I yawned and stretched, and the sad little servant who’d accompanied the Nome King (did he even have a name?) scurried forward.
“Good morning, mistress,” it—she—whispered. Up close, she didn’t look any more impressive than she had when she’d accompanied the Nome King into my chamber. Her face was seamed with dozens of tiny wrinkles; dark eyes peered nervously out from under her heavy, pale brow. Her larva-white skull was dotted with sparse blond fuzz. Her black robe looked like a potato sack, although at least it was clean. If this was the best Ev could do in the service field, I was totally out.
I looked at her and decided something. The Nome King had a whole castle of servants, but none of them were likely loyal to him for any reason but fear. I had always had three allies at my side—Tin, Scare, and the Lion. I needed some new ones. The Munchkin didn’t know it yet, but she was going to be my new best friend.
“Who are you?” I asked imperiously.
“A gift to you, mistress, from His Highness,” she whispered.
“Well, obviously,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I mean, servant, what is your name?”
“Bupu, mistress.”
Even her name was ugly. I sighed, calling on all my reserves of patience and reminding myself that when in Rome, we do as the Romans do, at least until we can fiddle while the city burns. I would have to make the best of a bad situation.
“Are you truly a Munchkin? You don’t look like one.”
“Yes, mistress,” the little creature said, looking despondent.
“What happened to you?”
“The Nome King brought me here, mistress. And for a while I had to work in the tunnels. With the Diggers.” A shudder rolled through her.
“The Diggers? What are Diggers?”
“His Highness’s guards, mistress,” she whispered. That was definitely fear.
I sighed. If I was going to make Ev my temporary home, I needed to know what I was in for. This sad little creature was the only source I had. I patted the bed beside me. “Have some porridge,” I suggested. “And tell me everything I need to know about these . . . tunnels.”
Her eyes went huge and rabbity with terror. “I mustn’t touch mistress’s food.”
“I’m not going to punish you.” She was still frozen and staring at me. “I promise. When was the last time you ate?”