“A coronation!” Gert exclaimed, straightening up, as if we hadn’t just been arguing about the fate of Oz. “That’s just what we need. Bring the country back together, give people something to look forward to. Oz loves a new monarch. Even if she’s a monarch we’ve already had.”
Ozma laughed. “I’ve already had a coronation, Gert,” she said, but Gert waved a hand dismissively.
“That was ages ago,” she said. “Besides, we had that whole unfortunate interlude with Dorothy the Usurper. We want to reassure the whole country that the right person is back in charge for good. A coronation is what the people will want.”
“We don’t even have a palace,” Mombi pointed out.
“We’ll host it in the land of monkeys,” Lulu said excitedly. “Boy, do monkeys know how to throw a party. Why, the last time we—”
“No, no,” Ozma interrupted. “Of course I appreciate your offer, dear Lulu, but the coronations of Oz have always been in the Emerald Palace. If there’s no palace, we’ll have to build something. The heart of Oz is here and always has been, even if the palace is no longer standing.”
I was pretty close to no longer standing myself. I didn’t realize I’d said it out loud until Nox shot me a funny look. Ozma laughed again and clapped her hands.
“What am I thinking?” she exclaimed. “First, my brave Wicked must rest. You’ve been through so much. We can hardly plan a party if you’re all starving and exhausted.”
As soon as she said it, I realized I was starving. I might have even been more hungry than tired.. Without waiting for another word, Ozma brought her hands together, and they began to glow with power. There was something almost alien about her magic; the light she created shimmered with an oily, rainbow sheen, like gasoline leaking across water. It arced upward, drawing the outline of a structure that slowly took shape under her direction. In just a few minutes, Ozma created a big, silk-walled pavilion stretched over a delicate golden frame with wrought filigree at every joint. Gems winked here and there in the framework, and a beautiful flag fluttered from a pole that sprang from the pavilion’s highest point.
Inside, a long table was laid with more kinds of food than I’d ever seen in one place in my life—even at one of Dorothy’s banquets. An entire roast pig with an apple in its mouth. Platters of fruits, most of which I didn’t recognize, and some of which were talking to each other. Baskets of steaming rolls. Tureens of soup, under which tiny fires burned, stoked by tiny figures who carried tiny logs. An enormous platter of desserts: rainbow-frosted cupcakes dusted with glitter that made me think sadly of Polychrome. A miniature Emerald City, rendered in chocolate, studded with emeralds made out of sugar. A cake in the shape of a dragon that breathed fire. Ozma’s post-maybe-defeating-Dorothy banquet was enough food to feed an army.
Which turned out to be a good thing, since Lulu put two fingers between her lips and emitted a piercing whistle. Monkeys bounded up out of nowhere. Lulu had brought her army—or at least, all its surviving members. Ozma giggled as the monkeys flung themselves at the amazing spread with glee. Even Nox and Mombi were laughing.
“Oh dear,” she said, waving her hand, and bunches of bananas popped up at one end of the table. “You’d better eat something fast. They’re not going to leave leftovers.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. Nox and I waded in among the gleeful monkeys, who were devouring the feast like an army of locusts. I found a plate and began to fill it. I didn’t even look to see what I was grabbing. At that point, I would have eaten pretty much anything.
Nox and I took our plates to one corner of the pavilion, where a little table and two comfy chairs appeared with a pop just as we were looking for somewhere to sit.
“Ozma’s hospitality sure beats Dorothy’s,” I said, sinking gratefully into one of the chairs. A napkin materialized out of thin air and tucked itself discreetly into my collar.
“She doesn’t think much of your table manners, apparently,” Nox said with a smirk. I was too tired to do anything about it.
“I don’t blame her,” I said. “The way I feel right now, I’ll be lucky if I can get half this stuff into my mouth.”
Nox had already dug in, and I followed suit. Everything was delicious. Some things tasted how they looked, and others changed into something else in my mouth. The flavors were all different, but subtly harmonized. It was like eating a symphony.
Ozma hadn’t touched the food, and I wondered if fairies had some weird eating disorder or if they just didn’t need to eat. I couldn’t remember if I’d ever had a meal with her when she was the spaced-out version of herself. After the feast, Ozma snapped her fingers. Table and dishes vanished, and the pavilion began to reconfigure itself into a long hall with dozens of silk-walled rooms flanking it.
“And now, my dear soldiers, it’s time to rest,” she said gently. “Tomorrow we work, but tonight we sleep.”
When Ozma had walked away, I leaned in closer to Nox. “We have to figure out a way for me to get back to Kansas and stop the Nome King,” I said in a low voice. He shook his head at me.
“Not here,” he whispered. “It’s not safe to talk anywhere near them.” I nodded to show I understood. “Anyway, you need rest,” he said in a normal tone of voice. “We all do.” He took my hand and I rested my forehead on his shoulder. From across the tent, Mombi cleared her throat, and I jerked backward. Nox dropped my hand like it was a hot coal.
“They’re watching us,” he said so quietly I almost missed it. I sighed. Nothing was ever simple in Oz.
“Good night,” I said loudly as I stood up and walked away from him. More than anything, I wanted him to be able to follow me. To let my guard down, just for a night. To fall asleep in someone’s arms. But I pushed those thoughts out of my head. I couldn’t let the witches suspect that I was going to try to get back to Kansas on my own—or that Nox and I had feelings for each other that went directly against the Quadrant’s demands. I was pretty sure Gert couldn’t read my thoughts unless I was next to her, but there was no sense in trumpeting my feelings. And Nox was right. More than anything else right now, I needed to sleep.
Pushing aside the curtains and entering one of the little rooms, I saw that it contained a soft, thick mattress piled with pillows and blankets. The magic boots glittered on my feet, but I didn’t have any choice but to sleep in them. Besides, I was so tired it didn’t matter. I didn’t lie down so much as face-plant directly onto the bed. And I’m pretty sure I was fast asleep before my cheek even hit the pillow. Thankfully, I didn’t dream.
THIRTY-SIX
Late-morning light filtered through the silken tent walls. I stretched and yelped aloud as every battered muscle in my body twinged in protest. My feet were sore and swollen. Despite how deeply I’d slept, I was still exhausted. I could feel the shoes tugging at me, like a house cat butting its head against my palm demanding to be petted.
Nox stuck his head through the curtain that closed off my room. “Hey,” he said softly. “The Quadrant wants to see you.” He crossed the room and sat next to me on the bed. He’d cleaned himself up that morning and I caught a whiff of the rich, sandalwood scent of his skin. Suddenly, I was acutely conscious of my messy hair and unbrushed teeth. But Nox was looking at me like—well, like I was beautiful. I blushed furiously.
“Hi,” I said stupidly.
“Hi.” He smiled.
“Are you ready? I’ll take you to them.” I stared up at him, as dopey as a new puppy. Not letting Gert know how badly I wanted to jump Nox’s bones was definitely going to be a serious challenge.