Chapter Twenty-Six. Dorothy
TWENTY-SIX
Dorothy
Ana is running around the Red Wander questioning everyone on whether or not they’ve seen Rook.
“They were supposed to wait here!” she shouts and then disappears into the garden.
I don’t want to worry—Rook is a grown man—but he has no memories, and someone is clearly trying to kill him. Henrietta warned us that the Tinman was close, but I wish I would have asked her how close.
A day’s travel? Two? A week? I don’t even know how big Oz actually is and how long it might take someone to go from one end to the other.
As Ana does the legwork, I wait by the front counter because I’m afraid sitting down, or moving, or literally doing anything might risk damage to the beautiful dress they’ve gifted me.
Ana, having thought through all the logistics already, had a hair and makeup team meet us at the dress shop so they could prepare me while the three seamstresses finalized the dress.
Now, I catch my reflection in a glass pastry case next to the counter. I don’t want to be vain. I’ve never put much effort into my appearance, hair or makeup. But what the Oz artists were able to do in such a short amount of time …
I’ve never felt so beautiful.
The makeup artist gave me a smoky eye, making my blue eyes seem bluer. She shaped my eyebrows and expertly applied bright red lipstick that matches my dress perfectly.
My hair has been braided, twisted, and pinned back. Because of the cut of the dress, the updo leaves my shoulders bare. I feel naked and I can’t seem to stop pulling on the dress’s bodice, trying to lift it higher.
There’s a clatter from the back—the garden doors thudding open. The wood floor creaks beneath determined footsteps.
“I’m going to kill Fink!” Ana returns to the dining room looking frazzled and peeved.
“Why? What’s happened?”
“Remy said Fink left Rook alone and then Rook left shortly after.”
“Did Remy say which way he went?”
“No, but I don’t want you to worry.” Ana wrings her hands, but then reaches over to squeeze mine, all of her agitation suddenly gone.
The swiftness of this shift in her demeanor makes me think she must have experience in keeping people calm.
I’ve seen Em do this sometimes when she’d assist the local doctor on house calls.
Em wasn’t just a great artist, she was a gifted healer too.
Not with gauze or antiseptic or sutures.
With her voice, her warmth, how she knew exactly what you needed to remain calm.
A sweater, a blanket, a stuffed animal, a cup of hot tea.
Suddenly I am overwhelmed with missing her. She’d know what to do in this situation. She always knew how to hold chaos firmly in her grip.
“I’m sure we’ll find him,” Ana goes on.
I consider telling her about the visit with Henrietta, the warning about the Tinman, that he’s closer than we think, that he wants Rook dead. But thinking about that has me immediately thinking about her other warning.
I can’t fall in love with Rook. I won’t. It’s a ridiculous idea.
For one, I don’t belong here. For two, I barely know him. For three, I have Edw—
“Kansas.”
Hearing the nickname on his lips sends an inhale rushing down my throat.
I turn to the sound of his voice.
“Rook!” I’m shooting across the room before I can think better of myself. I have him in an embrace a second later. “I was worried about you.”
“No need, Kansas. I didn’t get into too much trouble.” He chuckles against me, the sound of it reverberating through his chest.
“Where were you?” I ask, trying to sound less like a possessive girlfriend and more like a concerned friend.
“I was bored.” He smiles down at me as I finally disentangle myself. “I took a walk.”
“Fink shouldn’t have left you alone.” Ana steps beside me and Rook.
“Fink might have been bored as well. But no bother. I’m here now.”
Ana clucks her tongue, but gives his appearance a nod. “The suit fits well. And look, your tie matches Dorothy’s dress.”
I step back and Rook finally takes in the full sight of me.
His gaze trails up my body and goosebumps pop on my bare arms.
All the sound in the entire building shrinks to a whisper.
The way Rook is looking at me now … it’s not just a gaze.…
I am beheld.
“Kansas,” he breathes out. “Your beauty could enchant an army.”
My heart thumps in my ears.
“Thank you.”
He takes a step toward me.
I am not going to fall in love with him.
“You look handsome as well.”
The beating of my heart makes my voice wobbly.
I clear my throat, clasp my hands, pray to god that I can get control of myself. This is silly. I’m being silly. I feel like a drunk eighteen-year-old fumbling around a barn with the neighbor boy.
I will not fall in love with this man.
I can’t.
Rook takes my hand. His grip is sure, his fingers cool. He bends my knuckles, brings his mouth to me. His gaze never strays. There is an intensity in his green eyes that reminds me of the feeling deep down in my bones when a cyclone presses closer.
He kisses my knuckles.
It’s a kiss that stretches across an hour. A kiss that evaporates in a second.
I can’t breathe.
“Shall we?” Ana hurries to the door and yanks it open.
The wind shifts in and a few flyers tacked to the wall beside the front door flap and crinkle.
The fire in the hearth gusts.
I’m hot all over and shivering.
“Here.” Rook takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over my shoulders. His warmth envelops me, his scent surrounds me.
Cedarwood and balsam and the hard crust of snow.
“We’re going to be late!”
I blink out of my stupor. “Wait, I forgot to check on Toto.”
“I’ll do it,” Remy says from behind the counter. “I’ll make sure he has fresh water and food.”
“Thank you, Remy. And if he gets temperamental with you, just tell him I said to behave.”
Remy laughs. “I’ll do my best not to get eaten.”
I laugh out loud, thinking it’s a joke. But none of them are laughing, as if they think Remy is serious.
“He won’t eat you,” I say, just in case they think he will.
They all share a look and then Ana claps her hands. “All right. Let’s be on our way! The carriage is waiting.”
I have never ridden in a carriage like this.
When I was little, Henry and Em had a used car that barely passed as an automobile.
Every bump jostled us. The brakes were temperamental, so we always had to go slow.
And there was a crack in the roof so any weather other than sunshine was a huge inconvenience.
It wasn’t until my later teen years that Henry finally splurged and bought a new truck. Everything changed after that. We felt like kings.
But even though in Kansas, a carriage would be taking a step back from the truck, this somehow feels like a step up. Like we truly are royalty.
The carriage exterior is lacquered black with wheels painted green. A driver sits on the bench up top, holding the reins for two giant black horses.
Rook offers me his hand to help get me up and inside the carriage.
The interior is plush, lined in green velvet with leather bench seats that face each other.
The leather is supple and soft beneath my fingertips as I settle onto the back bench.
Beside me, a tiny glass sconce flickers with golden light.
It helps drive away that ever-present feeling of foreboding beneath the dark, ominous sky of Oz.
Ana sits at the front of the carriage, while Rook settles in beside me. The provost taps the roof and the driver clicks his tongue, spurring the two horses forward.
“How many people will be at this celebration?” I ask as the carriage turns onto the next street.
“Oh, a lot. Hundreds.” Ana peers out the window as we pass a two-story house with a stone portico. “The Hollow hasn’t had cause for celebration in quite a long time. We used to have balls every season. We loved a good party.”
It’s impossible to miss the wistfulness in her voice.
“What happened?” I ask.
“Well, the war, of course.”
I fidget with my skirt. “How long ago was it? The war. Was it before you were born?”
“Oh no.” Ana turns away from the window and sits back against the leather bench. “I was fourteen when the gods disappeared, sixteen when war broke out.”
“What was it like when the gods disappeared?”
The carriage rolls to a stop as a group of children cross the street carrying purple-swirled lollipops.
“At first…” Ana trails off, her gaze soft and unfocused.
“At first it was nothing. There was silence. Stillness. Like all the air had been stolen from the world. Then the weather came. Catastrophic floods. Ice storms. Cyclones. One day it would be sweltering and the next everything was blanketed in snow. A lot of people started migrating at that point, trying to escape the weather. But those people quickly returned, reporting a desert in every direction. No one has been able to pass through it.”
The driver lifts the reins and the horses soldier forward.
“There were years when the crop was so bad, we starved.” Ana laughs, but there is no humor in the sound.
“We subsisted on our preserved vegetables and our livestock.
Sometimes we could squeeze a stew out of a chicken or a rabbit, but it was just meat and broth.
As a kid I hated vegetables, but let me tell you, a stew is not a stew without carrots and corn and pumpkin and potatoes.
“One catastrophe after another resulted in the witches blaming the royal family, and war broke out. Power and magic clashed. Even the Witch of the West and the Great Wizard himself fought against one another. There are many stories around their battle, some of them in his favor, some in hers. But everyone seems to agree that it was their battle, the clashing of their magic, that created the dark cloud overhead.”
“Was he trying to defeat her?”
Ana shrugs. “It’s not for me to speculate on the motivations of the magical.”
The carriage slows to pause at a busy intersection. There are several more carriages here, and most of them headed in the same direction.