Yellow Brick War (Dorothy Must Die, #3)(45)

“I’m sorry,” Pete said. “I can’t ask you to forgive me for what I did. But maybe you can understand. Polychrome was going to kill me. I didn’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice,” Nox said. He was right. But somehow, I felt my anger dissipating as I saw the guilt and pain on Pete’s face. He’d always been a mystery, but he’d helped me so many times in Oz. Was what he’d done really so much worse than anything I’d have done in his place to stay alive?

“Leave him alone,” I said. Nox glanced at me, startled.

“Checkmate!” Ozma said happily, sweeping the checkers pieces off the board.

“Checkmate is in chess, Ozma,” Pete said gently, stooping to pick up the pieces. He seemed almost brotherly, with a protective note in his voice.

“Can you tell what she’s thinking?” I asked. Pete shook his head.

“The connection is completely broken. I don’t think she has any idea who I am.”

Nox tugged on my arm and leaned into me. “Why are you so willing to let him off the hook?” Nox asked in a low voice. “He betrayed us.”

“Glinda’s defeated, so he can’t betray us to her again,” I pointed out. “And somehow my spell separated Ozma and Pete permanently. If we don’t have a reason to kill him, he doesn’t have a reason to turn against us.”

“You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here,” Pete said, standing up as Ozma cheerfully set up the checkers board again. “Look, Amy’s right. I shouldn’t have summoned Glinda, but it was the only thing I could think of at the time that could have kept me alive. I had no idea she would kill Polychrome or destroy Rainbow Falls.”

“You could have done a hundred different things,” Nox said coldly. “Instead you got people killed. People like Annabel. Polychrome would still be alive.”

I sighed. “Nox, I don’t trust Pete, but I don’t think he can harm us anymore. Even if he could contact Dorothy, he doesn’t have any reason to.”

“Kindness can be a weakness, too,” Nox said, not taking his eyes off Pete.

“That’s not what you’ve been telling me,” I said. “All along, you said it was the thing that made me different.” I couldn’t say why I wanted to spare Pete. Nox was right: so far, kindness had done nothing but get me nearly killed in Oz. But if Oz’s magic was changing me into some kind of monster, maybe my willingness to forgive Pete was proof that it hadn’t swallowed me up entirely.

Relief flooded Pete’s face. “You mean you’ll just let me go?”

“Not so fast,” I told him. “I might be willing to keep Nox from killing you, but that doesn’t mean I want you around. You’ve been basically nothing but trouble since the day I showed up in Oz.”

“I saved you when you were in Dorothy’s prison!” he protested.

“That was a long time ago,” I said. “Anyway, you didn’t save me—Mombi did.”

At the sound of Mombi’s name, Pete grimaced. I knew there was no love lost between him and the witch who’d enchanted him in the first place. Mombi probably had motives of her own when it came to Pete, and I didn’t want to deal with them. My life was complicated enough as it is. “I want you to leave,” I said. “Like, now. For good. I don’t ever want to see you again. Is that clear?”

Pete looked at me for a long time, his dark eyes thoughtful. Once upon a time, I’d felt something for him. But that was long gone. Now he was just trouble.

“It’s clear,” he said finally.

“Good,” I said. I turned to Nox. “I can help you set them free. The shoes will protect me.” I sounded a lot more confident than I felt.

Nox looked like he wanted to protest, but he only nodded. He closed his eyes, raising his hands and resting them on Pete and Ozma’s chains for a second time. Whatever I’d told Nox, I didn’t trust the shoes completely yet. I’d leave the bulk of the magic up to him. But I knew he wasn’t strong enough to free Pete and Ozma alone.

Nox grunted with the effort of sustaining the spell. I put my hands over his, concentrating hard on my magic boots. Help me, I asked them. Help me help Nox. I could feel them respond, the magic within them humming to life. And I could feel Oz’s magic, too—the dark, dangerous pull of more power than I could handle, urging me to just let go, reminding me of how good it felt to be consumed by magic, transformed into an unstoppable monster. I concentrated instead on the shoes, willing the darkness to stay back. I could feel its disappointment as if it was a living thing.

Nox gave a final gasp, and Pete and Ozma’s chains shattered into harmless pink fragments. I slumped backward in relief. That was close, I thought. Maybe too close. Were the shoes on my side? Or was the feeling of safety they gave me some trick of the Nome King’s?

Nox saw my face. “Are you okay? What happened? And you said something before about the shoes somehow letting you be able to kill Dorothy?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “I was right. The shoes can protect me from the effects of Oz’s magic. I don’t want to push my luck, but I can use magic if it’s necessary. And yeah—whatever was binding me to Dorothy before—the shoes have undone.” Nox shook his head, but he didn’t reply. I knew he thought I was wrong, that magic was too much of a risk. I knew, too, that there was a strong possibility he was right.