The End of Oz (Dorothy Must Die #4)

Bupu smiled at me.

Friendship doesn’t have to be selfless—but it works best when your interests line up. Bupu and I had an understanding now. And it was going to save us both.

I twirled around for Bupu to compliment me.

Everything was ready. My costume was ready, my hair was ready, and my will to live was at an all-time, through-the-roof high.

So it was perfect timing when the knock came at my door and the Nome King stepped inside the room.

“Are you ready, my darling?” he asked. I have to say that he looked less than appropriately smitten. His gaze flicked to Bupu, who was perched at my side, looking serious, and nervous.

He gave a scowl. “What is she doing here?” he asked.

“She’s my bridesmaid, beloved. It’s traditional.”

He let it go with a shrug. “As you wish,” he said. He knew perfectly well that Bupu was hardly a threat. She wasn’t meant to be. The real threat was on her way.

At least, I hoped she was.

I felt like a common prisoner as the Nome King escorted me to the ballroom, his guards flanking me on all sides. I ignored the indignity. After today, I’d never have to see these tiresome creatures again.

As we got closer I had to keep from beaming. Because my plan was working: Amy was out there somewhere. I could feel the power of her shoes burning in the distance, just as I could feel the power of my own coursing through my body.

That feeling only got stronger as I approached, and I knew that, wherever Amy was, she was close, and getting closer. We were both headed toward the same place.

It was almost ironic. She thought that she was going to kill me. She had no idea at all that she was playing right into my hands. Someone was going to die tonight, but it wasn’t going to be me.

I was happy to let her and the Nome King have their little murder ball. While they were busy ripping each other to shreds, I was going to apply a fresh coat of lipstick and get myself back to Oz. Maybe I could even manage to snatch my other shoes back while I was at it. What a coup that would be! It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.

I wondered what Glinda’s face would look like when I saw her again. When she realized I was still alive, and that with both pairs of shoes under my control, there was nothing in the world that she could do to stop me.

I’d killed a few witches in my day. I was so looking forward to doing it again. This time, I’d really be able to enjoy it.

I had come a long way, after all. That first Wicked witch—the Wicked Witch of the East—had been an accident. I couldn’t help the fact that the tornado had dropped my house on her before I’d even officially set foot in Oz.

The second time, at least, I’d known exactly what I was doing, even if I hadn’t been quite ready to bask in the glory of it all. It was the first time I’d ever killed anyone in my life. I’d been surprised then by how easy it was.

I wouldn’t realize it until later, but it was that moment that had changed me forever. Killing the Wicked Witch of the West had unlocked the secret potential that had always lived inside me—the potential to be great. After that, it had just taken a little bit of living—not to mention a second trip to Oz—to realize exactly what that potential meant.

It meant that I was special. It meant that I was a queen.

I had the decisiveness and power it took to govern a country. To be truly great. Because what had all those hours in my history class back in Kansas taught me, if not that the most effective rulers are also the most ruthless ones? I was proud to be like them in that way, and grateful to the witches for sacrificing themselves (the poor things!) so that I could become the girl—no, the woman—who I was truly meant to be.

The Nome King and I were approaching the ballroom now. I wondered what my guests were doing. This was going to be the grandest event they’d ever witness in their miserable, mildewy little lives.

“You promised me an entrance, my darling,” I said, turning to him.

“Indeed I did,” he replied, with a smirk that was almost romantic.

My beau, I noticed just then, was wearing a wicked-looking silver blade strapped to his belt. Rubies studded its hilt. I felt the unmistakable throb of magic pulsing down the length of the knife and I understood immediately: this was how he was going to try to kill me. It was how he was planning to unleash the blood that would allow the shoes to return to him.

Let him try, I thought. Soon, at long last, I’d be going home—back to Oz, where I belonged. Back to the throne that was rightfully mine.

Home. For just a second, I faltered as that word echoed uncomfortably in the back of my head. It made me shiver, reminding me of something that I couldn’t put my finger on. Something someone had said to me once.

A sliver of doubt festered in me where there had only been certainty before. I pushed it aside. The Nome King was just trying to get into my head.

Of course Oz was home.

Now the Nome King led me down a twisting hallway I hadn’t noticed before, away from the main entrance to his ballroom.

“Nothing makes an entrance grander than a secret doorway,” he said with a smile, pointing to a cleft in the rock wall. Hmmm, I thought, filing this away. For all I knew, it was too late for this information to be of any use, but I’d save it just in case. I shimmied through it. The cleft ended in a heavy red curtain. I peeked around it and saw a raised dais, and beyond it, the ballroom.

The place was packed. Absolutely packed. For a moment, I felt a wild glee. These people were all here for me! They’d dressed up in costumes, just as I’d told them to. The ruby light played over hundreds of faces.

But despite the massive crowd, the servants and Diggers and attendants and cooks and guests and hangers-on, the entire cavern was silent. Deathly silent. As if all of them were terrified to draw the Nome King’s attention. They knew from experience that whenever he called for a crowd, something awful was bound to happen. They were all wondering which one of them it was going to be.

I felt Amy before I saw her. Her boots were calling to me, and I knew exactly where she was, pressed close to the stage, surrounded by bodies.

Silly girl. She thought her ridiculous getup was enough to disguise her. In those boots, I’d have known her even if she’d been wrapped in a fully body cast. They were calling to me so loudly that it almost made me wince.

Everything was working even better than I’d planned.

The Nome King gestured to the Diggers, and another group of them carried forward an enormous, glittering red throne. He settled himself into it with a yawn.

“Where’s my throne?” I asked.

He smiled. “I thought we could share, my love. For now why don’t you enter the room behind me?”

Bupu sniffled quietly at my feet. I reached down and patted her head comfortingly through the branches of her costume.

Well, like Aunt Em always used to say, make lemonade when the sun shines. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and adjusted my mask.