Mombi was the most pissed I’d ever seen her, and that was saying something. Nox looked like a little kid who’d gotten busted stealing cookies as he jumped to his feet, apologizing in a babble.

“I know, Mombi,” he said. “I’m so sorry. You’re right.”

She was still looking at him like he was a piece of something rotten she’d gotten on her shoe. “Do you take the Quadrant seriously or not, Nox? There are others who could take your place.”

There were? I glanced at him. He looked startled. If there were other witches who could take Nox’s place, maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. Maybe he could just . . . retire. Maybe we had a chance at being together.

Stop it, I told myself. I was behaving like I was back in high school. This was way more important than my feelings—or Nox’s.

“I will do my duty,” he said quickly, not looking at me. I couldn’t help a flash of hurt at how easy it was for him to give me up, but I told myself to quit being such a baby.

“We believe you, Nox,” Gert said, much more gently than Mombi. “I know this is difficult for you.” She looked at me. “We must all sacrifice for the greater good,” she said, and I felt certain her words were directed at me. “Amy, you’re badly hurt,” she added. “You need the healing pool, but I’m afraid we don’t have that luxury here. Hold still, please.”

I could feel the warmth of her magic spreading from her palms and flowing through me. I could sense it probing outward into my arms and legs. At first it felt good, like getting a really great massage.

But you know how there’s always that moment during a massage when you’re like okay, that’s enough? Gert crossed that line, and then some.

I yelped in agony as her spell wrenched my bones and muscles, shoving them into place and knitting them back together. It felt like my entire body was being squeezed through a tiny keyhole.

Just when I thought I couldn’t endure the pain a second longer, it stopped. I wiggled my fingers cautiously, and then moved my arms and legs. Gert had done it again. I was still bruised, worn out, a little angry, and a little sad. But I was here, and I was alive.

The source of the birdsong chirped again, and I looked down to see a little yellow frog regarding me with bright eyes and trilling merrily. “Singing frogs?” I said. “How did I miss those?”

“The singing frogs of Oz are indigenous to Winkie country,” Glamora said.

“We’ve got more important things to talk about than frogs,” Mombi growled. Nox glanced at my feet, and I followed his gaze to where the silver boots gleamed softly on my feet. The events of the past few days came flooding back. Madison. Dustin. The Nome King. Dorothy. My mom.

“Why are we at the Woodman’s palace?” I asked. “And where’s Dorothy?”

“Come on,” Mombi said, beckoning. “Let’s have this conversation inside.”

NINETEEN

The Winkies’ palace was actually pretty gross. What did I expect, I guess, considering that its previous tenants had been the Tin Woodman, and before him, the Wicked Witch of the West.

It basically looked like the palace had been sacked. Dusty tapestries hung crazily from the walls, and most of the doors were splintered as though they’d been kicked open. Here and there, the floors or walls were stained with something that looked suspiciously like blood. All of the furniture was overturned or broken. Mombi waved a hand as we entered the palace’s banquet hall, and an invisible hand righted a few chairs and arranged them around a table.

I flexed my fingers, feeling my own power tingle to life in response. Whatever had happened to my magic in Kansas, it was back now. And it felt different in a way I couldn’t explain. The shoes, I thought. The shoes were doing something to me, that much I was sure. But was that a good thing or a bad one? And could I even use magic anymore without it turning me into Dorothy?

“First things first,” Mombi said. “We don’t know where Dorothy is. We’re assuming she went back to the Emerald City as soon as she returned to Oz, but we have no way of knowing yet. And we have to move fast before she figures out we found a way back ourselves.” She turned to Glamora. “It’s time to summon the rest of the Wicked,” she said, and Glamora nodded in agreement. “The Nome King is moving against Oz, and now we have three enemies to deal with. All our old plans are off the table. This is a whole new ball game.”

The final confrontation with the Nome King came flooding back. “The Nome King wanted me to come back to Oz,” I blurted. “He said that Dorothy wasn’t useful to him anymore but that I might be.” <