Page 75 of A City of Emeralds and Envy
I turn my back on the orb and walk to the window once more, unlatching it and pushing one side open. The diamond-shaped panes of glass flash in the light of the setting sun.
Soon now. So soon.
My stomach whirls and my pulse quickens at the thought of seeing Dorothy again. She is intoxicating, invigorating. Delectably human, but with such Unseelie darkness in her soul. Her mind is a maze I yearn to explore, even as I ache to taste every curve and hollow of her body. She will agree to this bargain, I know it.
For a moment—just for a moment—I allow myself to imagine a different ending. If she and her friends should manage to defeat me somehow—if one of them has a weapon or magic I haven’t seen—if they manage to kill me—
If that happens, Dorothy will die as well.
I imagine it—myself, lying limp and beautiful on the floor of this tower, my sightless eyes reflecting the scrying stone nearby, while Dorothy’s lovely body slumps over mine, forever stilled in death. So picturesque.
Her friends and her half-brother would weep over her fate—but only for a little while. They would realize, soon enough, that my death fulfilled their task. Robbed of Dorothy’s ability to travel swiftly, they would steal mounts from my stables and race for the Emerald City, carrying my body and the scrying stone to the Wizard. Maybe they would reach him in time, before I decomposed into ash, before their deadline expired. But even if they made it, he would never allow the four of them a joyous future. He is the enemy of happiness, and he would find a way to ruin their love.
A sorrowful ending, romantic in its very sadness.
But that ending will not be mine.
I settle back into my chair, taking a cup of wine from the little table on my right and propping my legs over the armrest again.
No, that is not the ending I will accept. Everyone else can die, for all I care—but Dorothy and I must remain alive.
I have so much more I want to do to her.
27
Something about this feels wrong. Not morally wrong, but—illogical. Suspicious.
We’re inside the castle now. There’s been no magic to stop us, and the guards we’ve met were fairly easy to overcome. I’ve been using my energy sparingly, since I might need all of it when we face West. So far, my reluctance to use magic hasn’t been a problem—Riordan and Caer seem all too ready for a fight, and even Jasper has gotten in a few punches. Riordan grabbed an ax off one of the guards, but at Alice’s insistence he’s mostly using its back side to thunk people over the head and knock them out. Alice has been carrying Fiero, lingering behind the rest of us, since she has neither magic nor combat training.
Considering how ill-prepared we all are, it’s been far too easy.
“I don’t like it,” I repeat, for the third time, as we flatten ourselves to the wall in a dank hallway. The passage tees off ahead, and I’m not sure what awaits us around the corner.
“So you’ve said,” Riordan answers dryly.
“He’s letting us walk in. That can’t be good.”
“What other choice do we have?” Alice whispers. “We can’t stop now. We’re running out of time.”
“We need to spread out,” I say. “Look for a throne room, a great hall, or the royal chambers. Interrogate any servants you find. Jasper and I will go together, and Riordan can go with Alice. Caer should be fine alone.”
Caer looks anxious at the thought of prowling the castle by himself. “Me, alone?” he says faintly.
Alice steps forward, as if to encourage him, but I move in quickly and clasp his shoulder. Meanwhile my other hand closes around something in my pocket—the small bottle of water from the Well of Undoing.
“You made your wish because you were afraid,” I say, low. “But fear isn’t something to abolish. Fear makes you wiser. Sometimes it gives you the strength to do what must be done—to be the person you need to be. You are the best choice for this. I trust you to succeed.”
As I speak to him, I’m pushing the bottle into his hand. His fingers close around it, and he nods, understanding.
With a final squeeze of his shoulder, I mouth the words,Follow me.
Hopefully Caer will understand and pursue Jasper and me, using his invisibility. I still believe we’re cloaked from West’s view. But I won’t take any chances.
“Come on.” I jerk my head, indicating for Jasper to follow. He’s armed with a short sword gleaned from a fallen guard, and I’ve got a dagger.
West’s castle is gloomy and appears mostly uninhabited—an empty, echoing maze of stone hallways and square dark rooms draped in tapestries. He certainly hasn’t been growing rich off the labors of his people. As for the lack of guards and servants, I suppose he doesn’t have much need for them. This land is somehow protected from the Green Wizard, so it wouldn’t need a significant military. Or maybe, with his powers of compulsion sucked away, West can’t repurpose his thralls and re-task them as a fighting force. Maybe he has simply been sitting here, waiting for an opportunity to overthrow the Wizard—a chance to fight back. Or maybe he’s content to spend the rest of his days as the solitary leader of a puppet kingdom under siege. How long can this region endure, walled off from the rest of the Isle, without the possibility of trade by ship or shore?
“Where are we going?” whispers Jasper from behind me, and I realize I’ve been wandering without much thought… wending my way up a circular staircase without any idea what might be at the top.
