Ruler of Beasts (Dorothy Must Die, #0.6)(3)
The Lion sighed. “So much for that,” he said. “I thought a tournament would be exciting, but it’s nowhere near as fun as a real battle. Maybe I should go to war against the winged monkeys.” He brightened. “I’ve never eaten a monkey. I suppose they might taste interesting?”
“As you like, sir,” Cornelius said patiently, but his red eyes blinked more than usual.
“No, you’re right,” the Lion said. “That’s not the thing either. I thought it was so nice, being a ruler, when I first came here. But the forest is boring, and so are all these wretched animals. I miss adventure, and cities, and seeing new things. Maybe I’m just not cut out to be King of the Beasts.”
But he wondered—if not this, what? He had spent his whole life wanting not to be a coward. He had never really thought how it would really feel to be king. Cornelius tried not to let his surprise show. He’d never heard the Lion talk like this before.
“But Glinda gave you the forest to rule, sir,” he said. “Who else could do the job?”
“You could, probably,” the Lion said. “Or anyone, really. I wonder what she would think if she could see me now.” No sooner had he spoken the words aloud than the clearing filled with a soft pink light. A cloud of tiny pink fireflies swirled through the air in a spinning column that gradually took on the shape of a woman.
“Glinda?” the Lion asked in astonishment as the witch floated forward. She was dressed in her usual pink ball gown, and her hair was piled on top of her head and secured with amethyst-studded combs. She hovered daintily a few inches from the ground, fluttering her long eyelashes at the Lion.
“My dear Lion,” she said sweetly. “If I’m not mistaken, were you just questioning my judgment?”
THREE
“Oh no, not at all!” exclaimed the Lion hastily, sitting up straight and gesturing furiously to Cornelius, who leapt forward to pick bits of the tournament losers out of the Lion’s mane. “If only I’d known you were coming, I would have . . .” The Lion waved a paw at his filthy, matted fur.
He did not want to seem ungrateful. She had helped him, Scare, Tin, and Dorothy get everything their hearts desired. But just like Scare said once in one of his overly long letters, she hadn’t exactly given them any instruction on how to use their new gifts.
“Don’t trouble yourself, dear Lion,” Glinda said in her honeyed voice, although Cornelius was almost certain he saw a flicker of distaste in her eyes. “When I go to visit the Kingdom of the Beasts, I expect beasts!” She giggled, and the Lion relaxed.
“Cornelius, make our guest comfortable,” he ordered. How exactly Cornelius was supposed to do this was unclear. He quickly dusted fur and the bones of an animal carcass—the Lion’s breakfast—away from an area of the Lion’s platform and indicated that Glinda should sit before scampering off to find something for the witch to eat. Glinda looked down at the rough platform and actually frowned. The Lion was too busy cleaning his paws to notice. “Sit, sit!” he exclaimed through a mouthful of fur.
“Travel is so, er, cramping,” Glinda replied. “I’m much more comfortable standing, dear Lion, and anyway I won’t be here long. I have a message of the utmost importance for you—and a mission, if you’re up for it.”
“A mission?” The Lion left off his grooming to look up at Glinda quizzically. “What kind of mission?”
“I’ve just come from the Emerald City, where I’ve been visiting with the queen,” Glinda explained.
“How is she?”
Glinda blinked, and for the barest second the Lion thought he saw a scowl flash across her face. “She’s very well, of course,” Glinda said, a little coolly. “She’s really settled into ruling like a duck to water. Just born to run things.”
“She is part of the royal line,” the Lion pointed out.
“And she lets you know it!” Glinda giggled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I thought I’d have so much to teach her, but really she just runs circles around the Scarecrow and me!”
“But the Scarecrow’s in the countryside,” the Lion said. At first, the Scarecrow had sent him letters via Pixie Express, but the Lion didn’t always finish them. They were pages and pages long filled with what he was learning. Things that were well beyond the Lion’s brain. The Lion couldn’t help but think that Scare was trying to read his way back to the throne. “Yes, of course, you know that he felt he had to go when he realized Ozma didn’t have any use for him. And in fact, I’m on my way back to my summer palace myself. Ozma certainly doesn’t need me.” This time, there was no mistaking the irritation in her voice. The Lion wondered what had happened back at the palace to set Glinda and Ozma at odds, but he knew better than to ask. Glinda might look kind, but she was powerful—and he’d seen her cruel side. He’d think twice before pushing her. Glinda quickly got her expression under control and her voice returned to its habitual sweetness. “But I didn’t come here to talk about boring old politics,” she cooed. “I came here because I need you, dear Lion, and only you, to help me with a most important project!”
The Lion sat up straight again. “Me?”
“That’s exactly right. In fact, there’s no one else in Oz who can possibly help me with what I need done. Can I rely on you, dear Lion? On your courage—and your utmost secrecy?”