Ruler of Beasts (Dorothy Must Die, #0.6)(5)

“Of course I won’t have a problem,” the Lion replied, slightly offended. But Glinda ignored him, closing her eyes and drawing a circular shape in the air with one finger. As she sketched, a translucent image of an elaborate ruby necklace materialized in the air. It was so elaborate that it was really more of a breastplate. A heavily worked gold setting housed dozens of rubies, ranging from the size of the Lion’s claw to the size of his entire paw. The dazzling red stones pulsed with a hypnotic red light of their own. The Lion leaned forward. He could almost see an image reflected in each of the glowing red stones. Whirling clouds forming a dense gray funnel over a broad, empty prairie with a single clapboard farmhouse sitting all by itself in the middle of nowhere. A girl was standing in the doorway; she was too tiny for the Lion to make out her features, but something about her was incredibly familiar . . .

“Where is that? Is that . . .” the Lion asked. Glinda clapped her hands and the image of the necklace vanished with a pop.

“Never you mind about that,” she singsonged. “What matters is that you recognize the necklace if you see it again. Will you?”

“Of course,” the Lion said, irritated. He realized suddenly that maybe Glinda wanted him to see it. Glinda wanted him to know that Dorothy was the gift she was planning for Ozma. And Lion would do just about anything to bring Dorothy back to Oz.

“I’m sorry, dear Lion,” she said. “I don’t mean to imply you’re not perfectly capable of the task. It’s just so important to me to make Ozma happy that I get stressed about the details.”

Something in her voice didn’t entirely ring true, but the Lion let it go. Before he knew it, both of Glinda’s hands were resting on his head, bathing him in a throbbing pink light. “And now I bind you to your promise,” the witch murmured. “Nexus necto offendix leo.” The Lion felt a creeping sensation, as if hundreds of tiny fleas were crawling through his fur. He tried to twist his head to nip at them, but he was frozen in place by Glinda’s spell. The bugs were burrowing under his skin. He could feel them like tiny sparks burning through his coat. He roared in pain and surprise but no sound came out of his open mouth.

“All done!” Glinda exclaimed, passing one hand over his head. He blinked. He was sitting on top of his platform in the Forest of the Beasts, a familiar woman standing in front of him with a blinding smile affixed to her face. He knew her. He was supposed to be doing something. His skin burned briefly, and it all became clear. A vision of a ruby necklace hung glittering in the air before him, its powerful pull on him drawing him closer and closer. But as he reached out a paw to touch it, the image burst in a shower of red sparks. He had to find the necklace. He simply had to. It was a compulsion.

Glinda, watching him, smiled and nodded. “Very good. Don’t forget your quest.” And then it all came flooding back. He was going to the Emerald City on an important errand for Glinda the Good Witch. He’d help her find a magical necklace so that she could present it to Ozma, the Queen of Oz. He’d been specially chosen for the critical task. His chest puffed outward with pride. It wasn’t just anyone who Glinda handpicked for her special missions.

At that very moment, Cornelius returned to the clearing, bearing a tray piled high with fruit. The tray looked as though it had been hastily woven together from leaves and branches—which it had, since the Lion’s subjects had very little use for dishes. Glinda delicately selected a few fresh dazzleberries, which exploded into bursts of tiny edible jewels in her hand. The Lion, still full from his tournament, waved the tray away.

“I’m going to leave the forest for a few—for a while, Cornelius,” he said importantly. “I trust you will be able to look over things while I’m gone?”

The rabbit’s ears twitched in surprise, but he only said, “Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Then it’s settled.” The Lion turned to Glinda. “How will I contact you when I’ve found the—” Glinda shot a warning look at Cornelius. “Cornelius is my most trusted adviser,” the Lion said.

“If anyone knows, it’s not a secret,” Glinda said, and there was no mistaking the coldness in her voice this time. “Don’t worry, Lion. I’ll know when you find it. And I’ll know if you tell anyone other than me.” Cornelius busied himself cleaning his whiskers, pretending not to listen.

“Yes, Glinda,” the Lion said, trying not to show that she had rattled him. But surely keeping the bored young queen company and finding a necklace couldn’t be anything too dangerous. Glinda would never do anything that wasn’t in the best interests of Oz, or of Ozma herself. After all, Glinda was the one who had made Ozma the new queen. And more than that—more than everything—Glinda might be bringing his friend home. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, and his thinking, wishful or otherwise, had never been as smart as the Scarecrow’s. But how much better Oz would be with Dorothy in it again.

Glinda smiled, and just like that she was a sweet, innocent witch again. Had the momentary flash of cruelty been his imagination after all? Already the air around her was sparkling, and her outlines shimmered and began to fade. In moments he could see through her, as if she were a ghost. “Don’t fail me, Lion,” she called as she vanished.

“Was that encouragement, sir, or a threat?” Cornelius asked quietly. The Lion didn’t bother to answer. What had he just gotten himself into?