Ruler of Beasts Page 6

  The Nome King was sputtering like a teakettle, impotent with fury. Ozma rolled her eyes. “He always was a bad loser,” she said, and snapped her fingers. His warriors exploded silently into columns of silver smoke. The clanking noise of his digging machine ground to a halt and its fire went out. The huge cavern immediately cooled to a comfortable temperature. The Nome King stood alone in front of them, speechless with rage and brandishing his fists. Ozma snapped her fingers again and he froze into place, pinned by her magic.

  “You have something that belongs to Oz,” Ozma said cheerfully, skipping over to him and lifting the ruby necklace over his head. “I’ll take this back now, thanks.” His eyes blazed with fury but his power wasn’t enough to break Ozma’s spell. This whole quest had been proof that Ozma’s power was far greater than the Lion had realized.

  Ozma fastened the necklace around the Lion’s neck. Somehow it expanded without his seeing it change, so that by the time she fastened the clasp it was big enough to fit him. The cool stones rested on his chest like a breastplate. He stared down at them, lost in their entrancing sparkle.

  “Careful,” Ozma warned, snapping him out of his reverie. “That’s old, old magic, dear Lion. It’ll trap you if you’re not careful.” She turned to face the Nome King. “Even you can’t break the bargain we made,” Ozma said, her voice clear and authoritative. “You’ll abandon this ridiculous plan of invading Oz, and you’ll go back to your own country and stay there. I don’t ever want to see you again. Is that clear?”

  Slowly the Nome King nodded. Ozma released him just enough so that he could speak.

  “My bargain was with you, little princess,” he hissed. “But it lasts only as long as you are the ruler of Oz. Don’t think you’ve seen the last of me.” The air around him began to glow with a silver light that grew brighter and brighter until the Lion was forced to cover his eyes. The light brightened still further and then vanished. When the Lion opened his eyes again, he and Ozma were alone in the abandoned cavern.

  “Phew,” she sighed in relief. “I wasn’t totally sure that was going to work.”

  TWELVE

  “What do you mean, you weren’t sure that was going to work?” the Lion demanded. Ozma shrugged.

  “All the legends about the Nome King say he’s obsessed with riddles and gambling, and he loves turning people into furniture and tchotchkes and that sort of thing. I knew there was no way we could actually talk him out of invading Oz, and we’re certainly not strong enough to fight him. I was hoping he’d pull something like this, but I couldn’t be sure.” The Lion stared at her, speechless. Ozma had bet the farm on a handful of legends about a king no one else knew existed and the might of his stomach?

  “It worked, didn’t it?” she said, as if she could read his mind.

  The Lion had no response to that, so he decided to think about something else. “But what will happen to the people of Ev? If the Nome King was invading Oz to help them—”

  “Oh, that,” Ozma said dismissively. “That was a load of hooey. Ev is incredibly rich. If the people are suffering, it’s his fault—his and the Princess Langwidere’s. There’s nothing I can do about that from here, although once I’m sure Oz is stable, I might look into deposing them both.”

  “The princess who?”

  “Langwidere,” Ozma said. “She’s horrible beyond belief. She has as many heads as there are days in the month and she exchanges them at will. Pray you never meet her—or the Wheelers.” The Lion thought of the strange, patchworked creatures he’d seen in the Nome King’s vision and shuddered.

  “Anyway, we won!” Ozma exclaimed happily. “And we got the Wizard’s necklace back, too!”

  Should he tell Ozma that Glinda was just as eager to find the necklace as she was? He decided against it. He’d figure out a way out of his deal with Glinda on his own. There was no way to tell Ozma about Glinda’s desire for the necklace without confessing she was the one who’d sent him to the Emerald City in the first place. All this intrigue was making his head hurt, especially after the stress of saving Oz from the clutches of the Nome King and rescuing Ozma from certain doom.

  “We shouldn’t rest here any longer,” Ozma warned. His heart sank. He’d been hoping for a nap. But he knew the queen was right. They were practically in the Land of Ev, after all, and he’d seen all he wanted of the Nome King. “He has to obey the bargain we made, but if I know anything about the Nome King, he’ll already be trying to find a way around it,” she added. “We should go back to the Emerald Palace before he tries to return this way.”

  Ozma didn’t sound too worried about the possibility that the Nome King might persist in his attempt to invade Oz after all. Was she brave, or just foolhardy? Whatever the case, he had no interest in sticking around either. “Can you teleport us back to the Emerald Palace?” he asked hopefully.

  “Through a mile of solid rock?” Ozma laughed. “I’m powerful, Lion, but no one is that powerful. Magic doesn’t work like that. We could step into the Darklands and travel that way, but I’d worry about losing you.” Her gaze turned thoughtful. “Although,” she mused, “the Wizard’s necklace wants to return to the palace; I can feel it. Maybe that’s not such a bad idea after all. The necklace will make sure you get there, even if I can’t.”

  At last, he could ask about the necklace without arousing her suspicions. “What is this necklace?”

  “No one really knows. It’s much older than the Wizard, of course, and how he came by it—well, I’m just not sure. It’s possible it’s from the Other Place, and he used its power to get here somehow. But now it’s bound up in the Deep Magic of Oz, and it will always try to go home.”

  “To the Emerald City?”

  “Exactly. Its magic is incredibly strong, but no one really knows what it’s for.”

  Glinda does, the Lion thought, remembering her eager face as she showed him the vision of the ruby necklace. She knew, and she had a plan for it. Of that he had no doubt.

  “Everyone thought the necklace was lost when the Wizard disappeared,” Ozma continued. “It’s possible he had it with him when he left Oz in his hot air balloon, and somehow lost it over the Land of Ev. I don’t know how else the Nome King could have gotten hold of it. He was probably using it to guide his tunneling to the Emerald City. That would explain how he was able to get so close so quickly.”

  She fell into a thoughtful silence. The necklace seemed to throb slightly against his chest, as if it knew they were talking about it. But that wasn’t possible. It was just a bunch of gold and rubies; even magic objects couldn’t eavesdrop on people’s conversations. Could they?

  Ozma roused herself. “The Darklands is too risky,” she said decidedly. “It’ll take much longer, of course, but we’ll have to go back the way we came.”

  The Lion almost groaned aloud. He was so tired, and the thought of the return journey was almost unbearable. Still, a risky magical journey through a place he’d never heard of where a ruby necklace was his only link to safety sounded even worse. He stood and stretched. Ozma rested one hand on his back. “Are you ready?”

  He nodded agreement, and Ozma raised her other hand. The cavern wall in front of them began to glow again. But this time, the lines of Ozma’s magic ran in feeble rivulets down the wall, refusing to form a door. “Being turned into a statue really wore me out,” she gasped. “We’re going to have to do this the hard way.” Without waiting for his reply, she grabbed his mane and dragged him toward the wall. He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say a word they were plowing into solid stone. And it hurt. Somehow, Ozma was dragging them both through the wall. It was like forcing his way through liquid concrete. Stone filled his ears and mouth, and for a long moment he thought he’d be stuck there, trapped inside the wall forever. But with one last, insistent tug, Ozma pulled him through to the other side. They collapsed on the tunnel floor.

  “Sorry about that,” Ozma wheezed. “Close call. It’s a good thing I didn’t have to actually fight the Nome Kin
g.”

  The journey back up through the tunnels to the Emerald Palace seemed to take even longer than the journey down. Both the Lion and Ozma were exhausted, but neither of them wanted to rest in the creepy, dark warren of tunnels. Ozma was so tired that several times she lost the way, and they had to backtrack. But finally the steep upward slant of the tunnel floor evened out, and the side tunnels came to an end. The Lion was so relieved to see the first of the torches that marked the corridor down from the Emerald Palace that he nearly cheered aloud, and Ozma perked up visibly.

  “Not sure I’ve got much more in me,” she panted. “I’m glad we’re almost home.”

  It was odd seeing her weakened like this. And even more than that, hearing her admit it. He had never once seen Glinda drained of her power. He himself had never let his guard down in front of his subjects, or even Cornelius. Ozma shared her vulnerability with him freely. He felt honored and at the same time, he wanted to warn her that it wasn’t the best idea. Someone else, someone other than himself, could pounce when you show your soft underbelly.

  At last, the rough-hewn rock of the tunnel walls gave way to the cut stone of the Emerald Palace’s corridors. The Lion almost wept in relief. Ozma pulled up her hood in an attempt to conceal herself if they encountered any of the palace servants, but the halls were empty. “That’s strange,” she said, frowning. “I couldn’t begin to guess what time it is, but at least a few of the servants are up at all hours. I don’t know where everyone is.” With a snap of her fingers, she exchanged her plain dress for a regal ball gown of emerald-green satin embroidered with a pattern in gold thread that echoed the delicate gold veins of her wings. Invisible hands piled her disordered curls into an elegant updo secured with jeweled golden combs, and dazzling emerald earrings appeared in her ears. Not to be outdone, the Lion quickly licked down his mane. The ruby necklace was hidden in his thick fur.

  Ozma gave him an approving nod. “We don’t look like we’ve been mucking around in nasty old tunnels and defeating an evil king!” she declared. “No one will ever be the wiser. The fact that we just saved Oz will remain between the two of us.” She winked, and the Lion felt an answering surge of pride. They had just saved Oz—if you got right down to it, he had just saved Oz, more or less by himself. If Scare and Tin could see him now! He might not have done so impressively in the battle against Jinjur, but there was no doubting the courage he’d shown while facing the Nome King.

  “Your Majesty!” Both he and Ozma jumped at the sudden cry. One of the palace servants was hurrying toward them—Jellia, the Lion remembered. She was the queen’s handmaid; that was why he’d memorized her name. “Thank goodness you’re here! Where on earth have you been? We’ve been looking all over for you—your guest is here!”

  Ozma looked puzzled. “My guest?”

  “Oh yes, and she’s in an absolute state, the girls are running themselves ragged—please, Your Majesty, you really must come at once!” Without waiting for them to reply, the maid took off in the other direction. Ozma raised her eyebrows at the Lion, shrugging, and followed, with the Lion close on her heels. “I guess we’ll have to wait just a bit before we rest,” she said ruefully. “I know I didn’t invite anyone to the palace. I wonder who’s here.”

  Jellia led them to Ozma’s throne room and threw open the doors, curtsying deeply. “Her Majesty, Queen Ozma of Oz!” she announced breathlessly, staying in her curtsy with her eyes cast down as if unwilling to face whoever awaited them. Ozma swept past her, her bearing regal. Beyond her, the Lion could see a figure silhouetted against the throne room’s huge picture windows. At first, he thought she was just incredibly tall. And then he realized she was hovering several inches off the ground.

  “My goodness,” she said in a syrupy-sweet, all-too-familiar voice, turning to face them. “Look what the cat dragged in.” She giggled, and something about the sound was infinitely more terrifying than any of the Nome King’s threats. “Welcome back, dearest Ozma. And of course, Your Highness,” she added, bowing to the Lion in a gesture that was subtly mocking. “I think you have something of mine. I’ve come to get it back.”

  THIRTEEN

  “Glinda.” Ozma’s voice was cold enough to freeze boiling water. “What exactly brings you back to the Emerald City after I suggested you not return?”

  Glinda laughed. “Dearest Ozma, I’m sure you know. The Lion certainly does.”

  Ozma shot a startled look at the Lion. His heart sank. He had been stupid not to be completely honest with Ozma. Now it was too late. The queen would realize the extent of his deceit and never forgive him. His time in the palace was clearly over, but more than that, he was sorry to lose someone who had become a real friend. “What does Glinda mean, Lion?” Ozma asked.

  “It’s nothing,” the Lion blurted. “I have no idea.”

  Ozma’s eyes narrowed. “Which one is it? Nothing, or no idea?”

  Glinda laughed again. “Now, now, Lion. It won’t do to try to break the promise you made me. We’re connected now—how else do you think I knew you’d found my necklace?”

  Ozma was looking back and forth between the two of them. “What promise?”

  “Glinda found me in the Kingdom of the Beasts,” the Lion said miserably. “She made me promise to find the Wizard’s necklace. I had no idea she was going behind your back.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Ozma gasped.

  “Glinda put a spell on me,” the Lion said. “She commanded me to keep it secret. Anyway, it didn’t seem important until we actually found the necklace. But by then we’d defeated the Nome King and I guess it just . . . it just slipped my mind,” he finished, well aware of how feeble he sounded. Ozma’s expression was a mixture of fury and disappointment.

  Glinda cleared her throat. “My necklace, please.”

  “It’s not your necklace,” the Lion said bravely, lashing his tail as he faced Glinda. “It belongs to Oz. I’ve—I’ve changed my mind. I won’t give it to you.”

  “No matter what you get in return?”

  He thought of the image of the girl in front of the house. Then he thought of Ozma pulling him through the wall. He wanted Dorothy back, but not at Ozma’s expense.

  “No matter what,” he said firmly, feeling stronger and better as each word landed. At that, Glinda threw back her head and laughed even harder. “Oh, Lion,” she chuckled. “Silly, silly Cowardly Lion. You don’t understand, do you? I’m not giving you a choice.” She flicked her wrists, and bolts of pink lightning shot toward the Lion’s chest. At the last second, Ozma made a slashing motion, and a wall of green energy sprung up around the Lion. Glinda’s bolts slammed into Ozma’s force field and splintered harmlessly, crackling and smoking.

  He realized at that moment that Glinda hadn’t wanted him to protect Ozma from danger. Glinda was the danger.

  “You’ve enchanted one of my subjects without my consent, barged into my palace, and now you want to steal something that isn’t yours from under my nose?” Ozma snarled. “After all your promises to help me? We could have been friends, you know.”

  Glinda hissed, her terrifyingly rigid smile turning to a scowl. “Are you kidding me, you little ingrate? I made you queen, and this is how you repay me? By throwing me out of the Emerald Palace and accusing me of treason? The Scarecrow might have been an incompetent idiot, but at least he knew his place.”

  “He’s not an idiot!” the Lion protested. Both Glinda and Ozma glanced at him as if they had only just remembered he was there before returning to stare at each other, the air between them crackling with energy.

  “What have you done with it, Ozma?”

  “I’m not going to tell you,” Ozma said coldly. The Lion blinked. Glinda didn’t know where the necklace actually was—she just knew one of them had it, and of course she’d assumed it was Ozma. If he could get out of the throne room unnoticed, he could hide it somewhere safe until Ozma took care of Glinda. Once the coast was clear, he’d give it back to Ozma and restore her faith in him. It was a pl
an worthy of the Scarecrow himself.

  The air around Glinda was glowing pink and turquoise. She raised her hands, crackling bolts of energy forming between her fingers.

  “Do you really want to do this, Glinda?” Ozma said grimly. “Battle me in my own palace? Declare war on the Queen of Oz?”

  “It’s only your palace because I put you in it,” Glinda snarled, hurling a bolt of energy at Ozma’s head. “I can take you out of it just as easily.”

  Ozma flicked her fingers, and Glinda’s magic crashed into the wall behind her, leaving a smoking crater. “I’m giving you one last chance, Glinda,” she said. “Leave now, and we can forget about this.”

  In response, Glinda threw another bolt of magic at Ozma. Ozma dodged it neatly, rolling her eyes. “Fine,” she said in exasperation. “You know, I’ve had a really long day. All I want is to go to bed. But apparently a queen’s work is never done.”

  “There’s no rest for the Wicked,” Glinda snapped. Ozma threw up another shield just in time as Glinda sent more magic at her. The Lion was torn, unsure of what to do or who to fight for, but feeling ready to pounce. He had never had much use for magic, but watching them fight he wished he had some of his own. “You were supposed to be the good witch,” Ozma said, returning Glinda’s fire. Glinda ducked and flew out of range.

  “You were supposed to be a good investment,” she snapped. “You don’t know the first thing about ruling a country. You should have listened to me.”

  “Since you’re such an expert?” Ozma flicked her fingers, and green lightning crackled toward Glinda. Glinda waved one hand, and the energy fizzled into tiny sparks. The Lion took a step toward the door, and then another. Self-preservation had kicked in, finally ruling out over his desire to know who would win this fight. He was almost clear of the throne room.