Page 62 of Witch Queens: Tales from Oz

I sighed, “Will you be serious?”

He paused before answering in a normal tone, “I am serious, Indy. You are it for me. I don’t know how this is going to work out. I don’t know if your dad will shit bricks once he realizes I am boning his daughter. Nor do I know if something will take me out tomorrow. But I do know how I feel about you, and that isn’t changing.”

“Is this where the credits roll, and a sappy love song rings out across the audience as the lights come up?” the slightly sardonic tone washed over me.

Prince Gregory.

I whipped out of Scarecrow’s arms to face him. He looked more like a hardened cowboy than a prince. His sandy curls had been bleached out by the sun, and his skin held a deep tan despite the almost chill in the air.

Gregory was seated upon his favorite horse. He was the only one that Indy knew still rode horseback.

“Just the royal we wished to see,” I muttered.

“It’s a pleasure to have you here,” his tone related the opposite. “Which twin do I have the honor of addressing?”

“If my sister were here, you would already be covered in boils or something equally charming to fit your lovely personality.”

“Ah,” his eyes brightened, “Bastinda, it has been too long. Might I escort you and Scarecrow inside of my beautiful city for some rest and refreshment? Once we are comfortable, we can discuss what brings you here.”

I hated to take anything from the wanker, but I was hungry.

“That is very kind of you,” I bit off.

Gregory’s eyes danced as if he knew how much those words had cost me.

“I am nothing but kindness,” he replied innocently.

“Yes,” I conceded, “Much like a scorpion or a viper?”

Scarecrow choked while smothering his laugh.

Gregory’s smile widened, “Always such a funny little thing. It’s a shame your magic never really settled in.”

And that is how Prince Gregory ended up with a severe case of gushing hemorrhoids while Scarecrow and I were tossed into the palace dungeon.

I have to admit that I was honestly shocked that my spell had worked. So, a part of me was thrilled when his skin started erupting.

Of course, this was not the way to engender peace, nor a way to get help out of the beggar.

But I did enjoy the horror in Gregory’s screams, so sue me.

Scarecrow and I had been placed in adjacent cells. I could hear him if I called out, but I hated not seeing him.

“So,” he said conversationally, “What now?”

A small smile formed on my face. I loved how Scarecrow took everything in stride, even my crazy, which was on full display today.

“Can you just ‘beast’ up and break out of here?” I asked hopefully.

His barked laugh was quick, “No, Indy, I can’t just—beast up.”

“How does it work?”

I heard him sigh and wondered if I had pressed too much.

“You don’t have to tell me,” I rapidly replied, “I'm just being a nosy bitch.”

“I don’t know how it works,” Scarecrow’s voice drifted over to me. “I have to be feeling extreme emotion, usually the darker, the better. The power must have come from my father, but since he never stuck around, I don’t know what it's called or even what species I could call myself. I've never met anyone remotely like myself, and I have been around for a long time.”

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