“What is it?” I asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He let go of my hand and it dropped to my side, heavy as stone. “It’s magic,” he said.

Suddenly I felt a breeze. I opened my eyes.

We weren’t in the training area anymore. Instead, we were standing at the edge of a grassy plateau that jutted out from the mouth of a cave at the top of a mountain.

The sun was bright and perfect and the sky was brilliant blue with just the slightest tinge of lavender. I looked down over the edge of the precipice we stood on and caught my breath. We were don’t-look-down high. We were skyscraper-high. Not that I had ever been in one, but I imagined this is what it felt like. The drop between us and the treetops was dizzying. Below us was a vast expanse of wildness.

In the distance, fields and flowers gave way to a lush, dark forest. Farther on the horizon was a hazy, shimmering mountain range that blocked the rest of Oz from my view—mountains so high that their peaks were hidden by a thick veil of quickly moving clouds.

Everything was still and quiet. This was a different quiet from the creepy, dead quiet of Munchkin Country. This quiet was pristine and charmed and full of life. It felt like Nox and I were the only two people in an undiscovered world.

“How’d we get out here?” I asked. My voice came out in a whisper.

He looked at me like I was the dumbest person alive. “You have to stop asking those kinds of questions,” he said. “You know exactly how we got out here.”

Of course I knew. It was the same as the answer he’d given me before.

“Magic,” I said under my breath, without even really meaning to.

“Yup,” he said. “I zapped us up here. I can’t work the same kinds of teleportation spells that Mombi can, so we didn’t go far. The Order’s headquarters is all inside these caves.” He gestured at the cave opening behind us.

I breathed deep, enjoying the first fresh air I’d tasted since I’d been taken to the Emerald Palace who knows how long ago. I felt it buzzing in my lungs and my whole body tingled. It was the same feeling I’d felt back in the caves when I’d touched Nox’s face and closed my eyes.

“I think I feel it,” I said finally. “The magic.”

“You can’t not. Not up here,” he said. “This is Mount Gillikin. It’s one of the most magical spots left in all of Oz. Dorothy hasn’t quite gotten to stealing it yet—it’s too much trouble. See those mountains a ways off? They move. Every night, they rebuild themselves; every day they’re different than they were the day before. Can’t build roads through them. Can’t even draw a map. You never know what you’re going to get. Some days they might be covered in snow, other days they could be so hot you’ll get sunstroke. Or anything in between. People go up those mountains and they never come back. Sure, you can get past them—you can fly, or teleport, or whatever—but it’s not easy. They’re part of what keeps Gillikin Country more protected than the rest of Oz. Still, it’s only a matter of time.”

“It’s incredible.”

“All of Oz used to be like this. There was so much magic floating around that you almost couldn’t help picking it up here and there. Now most of it’s just in a few scattered spots like this, places Dorothy can’t be bothered with.”

“Maybe she’ll never bother,” I said. “Why does she need more than she already has?”

Nox snorted. “You don’t know Dorothy. The more she gets, the more she wants. That’s the way it is with you people,” he said.

“You people? What people?”

“People from your world. Like Dorothy. The Wizard. Like you, probably. Magic’s dangerous for outlanders. You’re not built for it.”

“But you’re going to teach me anyway. That’s what Mombi said.”

“They think the risk is worth it,” Nox said. “Not everyone agrees.”

“You don’t think I can handle it. “

“Maybe you can and maybe you can’t. I don’t really know you. What I think doesn’t matter. The question is what you think.” He shrugged.

I shook my head. I needed more.

“It’s your choice,” he said. “It’s not magic that makes you who you are. It’s the choices that you make. Look at Dorothy.”

“What about Dorothy?”

“That’s exactly what makes Dorothy evil.”

After my training session with Nox, it was a relief to see Gert. I didn’t know what she had in store for me, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t involve having to hit anyone. Despite the whole almost-drowning-me-on-purpose incident and her being up in my brain all the time, she had not told the others that I had no intention of killing Dorothy. I was still confused about what it meant to be a witch—a Wicked witch, for that matter—but somehow she seemed less Wicked than the rest. Maybe it was stupid Stockholm syndrome, that thing people get when they start liking their captors. But I didn’t feel like I was a captive when I was with Gert.

Gert’s room was like an old-fashioned apothecary, with a wall of glass jars filled with a million different liquids, big canisters heaping with I don’t know what, and plants and herbs I didn’t recognize. The light was dim, but warm and cozy, too. I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from—although there were candles crowding almost every surface, none of them were lit. Her walls were covered with some kind of white gold, which further intensified the glow.