Pete twisted his mouth in thought. “I don’t think he’d do that,” he said. “But I’d stay away from him if I were you.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t so sure. What if the Wizard was supposed to be my contact here in the palace? His arrival pretty much synchronized with mine, and if everyone believed he’d had a falling out with Mombi that could make for good cover. There was still so much I didn’t know.

“What about Ozma?” I asked. “I saw her, too. I think it was the real Ozma, not one of her holograms.”

Pete’s face twitched, just barely, but enough for me to notice. “She’s around. I’ve never met her. She’s not herself—Dorothy did something to her. Listen, just ignore her. That’s what everyone else does.”

“She kissed me,” I said.

“That sounds like Ozma,” he said. “She’s in her own little world. It’s kind of sad.”

Suddenly his eyes glazed over. His hands trembled at his sides. He tried to shove them in his pockets.

“Pete?” He began to flicker.

“I have to go.”

Before I could stop him, Pete slipped out the door and into the hallway. He didn’t even say good-bye.

At my feet, Star tittered and scratched. I picked her up and snuggled her against my chest, sighing.

“Well,” I said to my loyal pet rat, “at least I have one ally here I can trust.”

“How about you carry a poison capsule in your little jaws and drop it into her mint julep? Think you could pull that off?”

Star stared at me, then scratched my chest with her tiny claws and went back to sleep. I guess she wasn’t into my idea.

It was early the next morning. I hadn’t slept well and had spent most of the night tossing and turning, much to Star’s chittering annoyance, and now I was up before the magic bell at my bedside had even summoned me to my chores.

I sighed and plucked Star from my body, placing her back on the bed. As I pulled on a clean uniform, I couldn’t help rolling my eyes at the prospect of another day of redundant chores. The mysteries around the palace—Ozma, the Wizard, Pete—were piling up, but I still wasn’t any closer to figuring out a way to kill Dorothy. How many days of boring housework would I have to put up with before the Order made contact? If I wasn’t careful, way more careful than I’d been yesterday in the solarium, it wouldn’t matter. I’d be back in the dungeon.

Turning to face the mirror, I checked myself for presentability and then searched my still-strange face, looking for a sign of what Pete had seen in it—the thing that had tipped him off that I wasn’t who I appeared to be. I found nothing.

I almost jumped out of my shoes at a knock on the door.

Now this was new—before, if someone had needed me, they summoned me with the magic bell. No one had ever knocked on the door before.

“Just a moment!” I called out nervously, grabbing Star and shoving her under my bed. “Stay,” I whispered urgently. She seemed to get the picture.

When I saw Jellia waving cheerily at me from the other side of the threshold, I stifled my surprise. Maybe she did a weekly inspection of the maids’ quarters. If so, I hoped Star would have the rat-smarts to stay out of sight.

“Astrid!” she chirped. “How pretty you look! And aren’t you just the luckiest girl in the world today?”

I fixed a robotic grin across my face. “Every day is lucky when you work for Dorothy,” I replied.

Jellia chuckled. If she sensed my complete lack of sincerity, she didn’t let on about it. “Now that’s the attitude we like around here,” she said. “But today’s luckier than most, dear—you have a very special assignment. You’re going to help me prepare Dorothy for her activities. How does it feel to be the new second handmaid?”

I stepped back in genuine surprise. “Me? Dorothy’s new lady-in-waiting?”

“Yes, you, you silly goose,” Jellia said. “Don’t act so surprised! You’ve been here longer than almost anyone, and you’ve proven yourself just as loyal and lovely as any of us. Now come—we don’t want to keep Her Highness waiting.”

“But what about Hannah?” I asked, following Jellia down the hall at a businesslike clip. As of yesterday at lunch, Hannah had been the second handmaid. She hadn’t been in her seat at dinner, but I’d just assumed Dorothy had needed her for something. What had happened to her?

Jellia looked over at me and shook her head sadly. “Hannah is in the infirmary,” she said. “She won’t be returning to service in the palace.”

That didn’t sound good. I put a hand to my chest, trying to mask my curiosity with sisterly concern. “What happened to her? Will she be okay?”

“Unfortunately, the Lion took a liking to her. Too much of a liking.” She sighed. “It wasn’t the poor thing’s fault—the Lion has always had appetite issues. There was nothing Hannah could have done.”

“Did he . . . eat her?” Images of Gert melting on the floor of the forest clearing back in Gillikin flew into my head. She had died trying to protect me. To protect all of us. Meanwhile, the Lion was still alive, maiming guards and running around attacking innocent servant girls for no reason.

“Well—not all of her,” Jellia said. Her smile had never wavered. “She’ll be fine in no time, and after she recovers enough, the Scarecrow will repair her body. She’ll be better than ever. She’s actually quite pleased. It’s an honor to enter the service of the Tin Soldiers.”