Hex decided not to argue. “What’s going on out there?” he asked, sinking down onto the hammock to eat his oatmeal—which was burnt. Iris hovered awkwardly for a moment, still chewing, and then frowned and settled into the chair.

“The monkeys are split,” she said heavily, swallowing the last of her banana. “Before Dorothy”—there was that name again—“came back to Oz, all the monkeys had wings.” She flapped her arms, as if to demonstrate. “We flew all over Oz as we pleased when Ozma ruled. But then Dorothy took over and Ozma went—well, wherever she is. Our wings have always been vulnerable to magic—we’ve been enslaved by one ruler after another, including that cursed Wizard.”

Wizard? Hex thought. Was that me? Was that what I remembered in the queen’s palace? He shifted uncomfortably, but Iris didn’t notice. “This time,” she continued, “some of us decided losing our wings was worth our freedom. You’re in the Queendom of the Wingless Ones—the last free monkeys in Oz.” Iris puffed her chest proudly, and then her expression sank again. “But some of the monkeys don’t want to be free anymore. They think it’s better to side with Dorothy”—Iris spat the name out as if it were a curse—“and that Dorothy’s creepy sidekick the Scarecrow can make us new wings. They say Dorothy is on our side and wouldn’t make us her slaves again—as if! Even back when she first came to Oz all she did was make us fly her around like we were some kind of taxi service. But now that she’s returned, she’s downright evil.” Iris sighed. “The rebels have been causing all kinds of trouble in the queendom—sabotage, arson, waylaying supplies. Some of the poorest monkeys are going hungry. I know that human-loving—no offense—traitor Quentin is behind the rebels, and I can prove it, too—I’ve been tracking the queen’s accounts with a data management system I developed, and by comparing royal expenditures I can prove that Quentin is siphoning food and supplies from all our imports,” she said excitedly. “Only he’s the chancellor, and I’m just a lowly guard. I can’t say anything against him the queen will believe.”

“Not even with all your data?” Hex asked.

She sighed again. “No one else understands double-entry accounting. Unless you know what the data means, it’s all just a bunch of meaningless numbers. And—well, the queen is very wise, of course, but she doesn’t think my work is serious,” Iris said quietly. “No one does. They all think I’m just young and—and silly. I’m the only one of the monkeys who’s even interested in numbers, and I can’t make them see how important data management is.”

But you are young and silly, Hex thought. I wouldn’t take you seriously either, if I were the queen. Iris seemed to have a good heart, but she couldn’t possibly think her endless spreadsheets would have any impact on the queen’s decisions. She wasn’t even a particularly effective guard. Was he meant to stop Quentin? If so, how? “I don’t have any other proof,” Iris was saying, “and Quentin knows that I can’t do anything to stop him because no one will listen to me.” Her brown eyes filled with tears. “The monkeys are going to destroy themselves, and I can’t do a thing to stop it,” she sobbed. She was so distraught that Hex forgot a few moments ago she had been clamoring for his execution. He patted her awkwardly on the back, and she wept heavily into his shoulder.

“I just c-c-care so m-m-uch!” she wailed, her runny nose dripping onto his shirt. “I want the monkeys to b-b-be happy! The only way to end the unrest is to prove he’s at the heart of it. And I c-c-can’t do anything!”

“There, there,” Hex murmured, continuing to pat her gently as she erupted into damp, hiccupping sobs. “Why don’t we go to the queen in the morning, and you can convince her you’re right? I’m sure you can figure something out. You’re very clever.” But his mind was racing. Pete had said he was being tested—was that why he’d been brought here? And if it was, what was he supposed to do? Convince the monkeys to side with Dorothy? It was hard to take the monkeys seriously, but that Quentin had still seemed like a nasty piece of work. Iris snuffled and blew her nose on her sleeve.

“I should be Lulu’s adviser, not Quentin!” Iris hiccupped furiously. “He’s a traitor and a f-f-fraud! Do you really think I can convince the queen?” Her lower lip quavered and she looked dangerously close to bursting into tears again. Hex hastily handed her a banana.

“Of course,” he said firmly, though he had no idea. “You’ve already convinced me—and I’m a total stranger.” This made no sense at all, but seemed to reassure Iris.

“You’re right,” she said more confidently. “First thing in the morning. I’ll tell her! I’ll—”

Suddenly, another loud explosion went off in the distance. Hex and Iris hurried outside, peering over the balcony of the guest hut. Below them, a small, seething group of monkeys battled each other furiously on the forest floor, their fight lit by more sunfruit. Monkeys in velvet suits that matched Iris’s—presumably the queen’s guard—carried prisoners, tightly wrapped in banana leaves, away from the battlefield, while more suited monkeys whacked the upstarts with bananas. “It all started with peaceful protests, but now we’re on the verge of all-out civil war,” Iris said, her eyes filling with tears again. “And it’s all Quentin’s fault! If he wasn’t spreading lies, they’d realize siding with Dorothy means death—or worse.” She sighed heavily. “It’s been a long day, and I can’t do anything until the morning. You might as well get some rest.”