“So some of the rumor is true,” I said grimly.
She shrugged. “I don’t actually kill people and take off their heads. With magic I’m able to ‘borrow’ other people.” Madison looked green, as though she might hurl over the side of the boat at any minute.
“Does everyone in Ev live underground?” I asked, trying to change the subject.
“Some of the farmers keep surface settlements,” Lang said. I thought of the sad, shabby villages we’d passed on the way to her palace. “Most people work as slave labor in the Nome King’s jewel mines and forges.”
“Slaves?” Nox asked. Lang gave him a sharp look.
“We’re not as enlightened here as you are in Oz,” she said sarcastically. I thought of seeing the Munchkins mining for magic when I first landed in Oz.
“Dorothy’s Oz isn’t exactly what I’d call enlightened,” I said. “What about the Wheelers?” I asked, grimacing at the memory of the awful creatures who’d so cavalierly borne us across the desert.
“They serve a purpose,” she said. “They keep people afraid of me.”
“By terrorizing the farms around your palace?” Nox asked drily.
She bristled. “The Wheelers are the only creatures of Ev that are surface-bound. They’re easy enough to escape in the underground tunnels; they never go belowground. And they make good guardians, if unpredictable ones.”
“But they were ready to burn people’s villages on the way,” Madison said. “And they wanted to hurt us.”
“They know their place,” Lang said curtly. “They would never dare contradict my orders. And as for the villages . . .” She shrugged. “A few casualties are unavoidable in service to the larger cause. I learned that from the best, after all.”
She shot Nox a bitter look. Something like pain flashed across his face and was gone so fast I wondered if I’d seen it at all. I had to know their history or it was going to drive me out of my mind, but I’d have to wait until I could talk to Nox alone. It was anyone’s guess when that might be.
Lang was matter-of-fact about the extreme poverty, which was obvious all around us, despite the beautifully carved tunnels decorated with jeweled murals and elaborate dragon boats. I thought about Dusty Acres as we floated by the tiny structures that passed for homes along the river’s banks. Injustice seemed like a way of life here. I wondered if Lang had always been so hardened to it, or if something had happened to her when she was part of the Order that had made her into this ruthless, pragmatic double agent. Perhaps that was the point of all the different faces she wore—she didn’t want to remain as one person.
Everything I’d seen and done, all the suffering I’d witnessed, starting with my very first hour in Oz—I’d thought I’d hardened myself to it, just the way she had. That had become clear when I’d been explaining things to Madison earlier. I’d had to, or else I’d have lost my mind. I’d had to fight to kill without regretting the death I left behind me. So did Nox.
And ultimately, so did Dorothy.
But Dorothy had taken it a step further from the very beginning. She wasn’t fighting injustice—she was creating it, ever since she’d returned to Oz. The first time she’d come to Oz, she’d been like me. She’d just tried to help her friends and keep them safe. But when she came back, she’d killed and tortured people for fun. She’d made war into a hobby. She’d enslaved her subjects and warped them into her soldiers. Something had happened to make her that way. Something had turned her from a girl like me into the monster she’d become. Whatever that thing was, it was the key. I knew it. That was what I had to find out if I wanted to end her power forever without killing her. If I wanted to use compassion—but still win. I’d stopped short of killing her directly, so I knew I was different.
I felt like I had a dozen different strands of varying textures and lengths, and I was almost ready to braid them together—but threads were still slipping through my fingers. There was something important I was missing. Something about how all of this tied together. Something that Lurline had hinted at.
The thing that bound me to Dorothy and turned orphaned kids like Nox—and, presumably, Lang—into battle-scarred warriors. If I could just undo the tangle and weave the threads together . . . but for now, the knot was too dense for me to unravel.
And, I realized, I didn’t just want to defeat Dorothy because it was my mission. I wanted to defeat her because I wanted to stay alive. I wanted to see my mom again. I wanted to have a chance at a real life with Nox—a relationship that wasn’t constantly thrown into turmoil by war and intrigue. I wanted to make sure that Madison got home safely to her family and her kid. I had responsibilities that were bigger than me. Bigger than the Order and what they wanted for me. I had family. I had friends.
The dragon boat slowed down and I stopped thinking. For now, we just had to stay alive. I could figure out the next step when we were safe.
As safe as you could get in Ev, anyway. Which didn’t seem very safe at all.
“My lady, we’re here,” the captain said, several of his mouths speaking at once. His eerie, rustling voices broke the silence.
“Good,” Lang said, her voice flat and distant. “You know the way in. Take us home.”
The dragon boat stilled in the fast-moving water, its legs moving powerfully against the current to hold us in place. The captain held up long, segmented limbs and began to chant in a low, haunting singsong. Each of his mouths shaped different words and different melodies, the individual songs weaving together into a tapestry of sound that sent a chill down my spine. The music was full of pain and longing and somehow, even though I didn’t understand any of the words, I knew all of them were sad.
Was there anything in Ev that wasn’t about heartbreak and loss?
As the boatman continued his song, a fissure appeared in the rock face in front of us. Slowly the boat moved toward it as the chant increased in intensity. The fissure widened just enough for us to slip through, and then the rock slammed closed behind us and the boatman’s song trailed off into the sudden silence.
The darkness was so intense it seemed almost alive. Suddenly I could feel the tons of rock above us, the distance between us and the open sky. I swallowed hard, trying to ease the suffocating feeling that was taking over me. Breathe, I told myself firmly. Just breathe. The ceiling isn’t collapsing. The stone isn’t moving. You’re fine.
“It takes some getting used to,” Lang said in the darkness beside me. I jumped. She sounded almost sympathetic.