“What happens now?” I asked. “You lock me in here until I agree to be your killer and actually mean it? Because I know that you know I didn’t.”
“No, we train you. I know that you aren’t ready, child. Just put one foot in front of the other. The rest will come in time.”
She sounded so sure. Like she knew something that I didn’t.
“And if it doesn’t?” What would they do to me if I didn’t do what they wanted?
“There is something you don’t know about being bound—we can’t hurt each other as long as we are in the circle. There is much to fear outside the circle, but you don’t have to fear that.”
I felt myself exhale and nodded slowly. Whether or not she was telling the truth, her answer would have to be okay for now. I just wished I could read her mind, too.
“No matter what, you’ll still be a witch.”
“But what kind?” I asked.
“Good question, child,” Gert said, slinking off into the dark.
I was standing in the middle of an all-white cave. Nox had led me there, then excused himself to change into clothes that he could better torture me in. I waited impatiently.
If I was being honest, the decor of this cave was kind of freaking me out—which was saying something, considering all the others I’d seen.
I stood barefoot on the skin of some giant animal I didn’t recognize. Maybe it was some magical Oz beast or something. A track of fire lined the ceiling, illuminating the cave. The white stone walls looked like some kind of stone—opal, I guessed—that shimmered with layers of other colors, depending on the light. White razor-sharp spikes jutted out around me like some kind of medieval climbing wall. Scattered around the room were strange iron machines that looked like either exercise equipment or torture devices.
Training with Nox was going to be fun.
I was already wearing the training uniform. It felt more like lingerie than athletic wear, with a silky tank top and pajama bottoms. The top was clingy and it had some sort of bra thing built in that made my flat chest look a little less flat. Say what you will about these witches, but they valued style.
Giant swings hung on opposite ends of the cave. Of all the places to sit in this cave, they looked innocent enough. I ran my finger along the seat of one and slipped into it. When I shuffled back with my feet, I realized the air was beginning to fill with smoke coming from the floor. I jumped up quickly.
The smoke began to take shape. Familiar figures materialized before me. I backed away, but there was nowhere to go. I was already pressed up against the jagged wall of the cave.
They must have followed me here, traveling through shadows the same way the Tin Woodman had appeared on the road when he found me, Indigo, and Ollie. I wasn’t going to stand back and let them take me away for a trial. I looked around wildly for a weapon and spied a rack with some kind of torture devices in the corner. I could only imagine what Nox had planned for us today. I stretched my arm out, but it was too far to reach. I inched toward it.
Dorothy’s pink lips pouted at me as she advanced. Her gingham dress, half formed, was just smoke and a hint of cleavage. But her face was there in all of its terrifying glory—and her laugh echoed in my ears even though her plasticky mouth didn’t move. The Tin Woodman stood a couple of steps behind her.
“Nox!” I screamed.
Before Dorothy could reach out one of her glinting red nails at me, Nox appeared in the entrance of the cave. Insanely enough, it looked like he was almost smiling.
“Help me!” I cried.
He walked right through the image of Dorothy, and just like that she disappeared. The Tin Woodman disappeared, too, and the ears and hair and tail that I assumed would have made up the Lion vanished with a growl. I was left standing in the white room, staring at Nox.
“You sure took your time!” I yelled.
“I just wanted to get your adrenaline going.” He smiled a cocky smile, rocking back on his heels. He had done that? Even as my anger rose up, I noticed despite myself how good he looked in his training gear. He was more muscular than I would have thought, biceps and quads and muscles I didn’t know the names of made up his—possibly magically enhanced—form.
“Why would you do that?” I snapped. “What is wrong with you?”
He just shrugged. It was turning into his signature move. I considered storming out, but my feet stayed rooted to the furry ground.
“How did you do that?”
“What I see in my head, I can project out into the space. But it only can last for a few seconds. I just meant to give you a scare, see how good your reflexes are.”
“I saw something like that on the road to the Emerald City. Queen Ozma was giving a speech—”
“Not the same thing, really. That was more of a capture.”
“A what?”
He leaned in close.
I didn’t move. I hadn’t exactly spent a lot of time alone with any guys. Tutoring Dustin hardly counted. And he wasn’t a witch or wizard or whatever it was I was supposed to call Nox. He was annoyingly—and maybe not so annoyingly—even hotter up close.
“Ouch!” I felt a pinprick of pain on my scalp as Nox leaned back, holding a strand of my pink hair. He pulled something out of his pocket, and folded it together with my hair in his fist.
“Memoria,” he whispered.
When he opened his hand, there was an emerald inside.
“This moment is now captured forever. There are emeralds like this embedded in the road. They’re meant to deliver messages, scare people, spread Dorothy’s decrees. Basically a way for the palace to keep us in line.”
He tossed the emerald on the ground. An image rose up from the stone, hazy at first and then snapping in focus. I was rolling my eyes at him. He was leaning in to pull my hair. But it almost looked like he was giving me a kiss.
The image disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
“So is that your superpower? Making people see things that aren’t there?”
Nox didn’t answer. He disappeared in a blink and reappeared beside me. “I can make them see things that are there as well. Like Mombi said, I’m a fighter. We should get started.”
When he moved into his fighting stance I noticed a speck of green paint in his black hair.
“What?” he asked, noticing my staring.
He must be Oz’s mysterious graffiti artist. The one tagging the frowny faces I’d seen in Munchkin Country.
“Nothing,” I said quickly. “I’m ready.” He was working really hard to put up the whole “fighter” front, but I wondered what else was there beneath the surface. What else it meant to be a boy witch.
“Liar,” Nox whispered with a mean glint in his eye. “Don’t worry. The spring will be able to heal you up when you break something.”
“I’d prefer not to get hurt in the first place,” I countered.
“Is wit highly valued in your world? You seem to rely on it.”
“Is being a total jerk highly valued in your world?” Sarcasm was how I survived back home. I wasn’t about to give it up now.
His gray eyes opened a little wider. “Your words will do nothing against her unless you can use them in a spell.”
I sighed loudly. If they wanted me to train, I would train. A few self-defense techniques would certainly come in handy around here. For that matter, they’d come in handy if I ever made it back to Dwight D. Eisenhower Senior High and had to face down a leaner, meaner, postpartum Madison Pendleton.
Still. Just because I was willing to learn how to fight, it didn’t mean I was going to assassinate anyone. I suspected Nox knew it.
“Why don’t you just give me one of those magical knife things and be done with it?”