Chapter Twenty-Six. Dorothy #2
“By the time the war ended,” Ana goes on, “we were all exhausted. We would have accepted radishes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if it meant having a reliable food source.”
The carriage pulls forward again and I lurch against Rook. He adjusts his body, spreading his arm out behind me, bracing me against him.
I ignore the new cluster of wings in my stomach and try to focus on Ana.
“That’s when the Cardinal Witches signed the treaty with the wizard,” she continues.
“No matter what they did, they couldn’t undo the dark cloud overhead, so they turned their attention to creating new systems using magic that produced crops without the sun.
Industry returned. Food returned. I was finally able to make a pot of sancocho!
” She closes her eyes briefly as if remembering the return of flavor, savoring it.
“We settled back into life. Though”—she spreads out her hands—“it’s been irrevocably changed.
And, of course, no one is immune to the lure of power.
Some of them … in charge … have exploited their positions. ”
“Like the Witch of the East?” I ask.
“Yes. She certainly used her power against us. And it grew worse by the day.”
“Who else?”
“The West is … well, her story is complicated.” She leans over and lowers her voice. “The Enders don’t call her wicked for nothing.”
“What do you mean?”
“She was a sister to the queen.”
My mouth drops open. “The West helped overthrow her sister? Why would she do that?”
Ana shakes her head. “Revenge? Jealousy? The West is the eldest daughter. She was supposed to inherit the throne, but they bypassed her for reasons we will never know.”
We make another turn. We seem to be leaving the city proper. There are fewer buildings and more palatial houses with vast, manicured grounds. The streets aren’t as bumpy, but there are twice as many pedestrians. Everyone on their way to the ball, I’m guessing.
“What about the wizard?” I ask.
Ana shifts her attention back to me. “What about him?”
“Has he exploited his position? Used his power against others?”
Rook shifts next to me. He’s been quiet this entire time, taking it all in.
I have to wonder if any of this sounds familiar to him, or if he’s learning it again along with me.
I must admit, there is a comfort in him being as clueless as he is.
I feel so out of my depth, but with him beside me, with no more knowledge about Oz than me, I don’t feel so alone.
Ana squints as she thinks. “The wizard is … harder to pin down. He is far more powerful than the witches.”
“Really?”
She nods. “Truly an enigma. I suppose that’s part of his allure.” She winks. “But to answer your question, has he exploited his position? I think the wizard is so powerful that if he did, we’d never know it.”
I shiver at her words.
The carriage bumps over a rounded stone seam between the street and the long driveway of East Manor.
I crane my neck so I can see better as we follow the winding curve of the drive.
The grounds are massive. There must be ten acres between the street and the house where it sits back like a king draped in white amongst a dark sky and dark oak trees.
Decorative lampposts dot the grounds, each topped with three frosted globes. Moths and beetles swoop in and around the globes as if they’re starving for light.
Though there’s a line of carriages winding down the hill from the front door, we bypass all of them, going straight to the half-moon drive in front of the house.
There, a woman dressed in an aubergine long coat pulls open the carriage door.
Humid night air swirls in smelling faintly of smoked meat and baked goods.
Ana is the first one out, then Rook. Rook offers me his hand again and I take it, using my other to hold up my skirt. The steps out of the carriage are tiny and I don’t want to make my entrance into this celebration as the girl who fell on her face.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
“Always my pleasure, Kansas.”
He waits until I’m steady on solid ground and then lets me go.
I immediately miss his nearness.
There’s something about Rook that reminds me vaguely of Toto. Toto’s love is fickle, there one minute, gone the next. Sometimes he’ll curl up beside me in the afternoon sun and we’ll doze the day away. Other times I can’t coax him into cuddling with anything less than a bloody steak.
Not that Rook has withheld any kind of affection. Not that I’m owed any kind of affection.
It’s just that … his attention is selective, and I find myself desiring more drops of it.
When I shouldn’t. Absolutely should not desire any drops.
I slip out of his suit jacket and hand it back, then straighten my dress.
I finally look up.
“Wow,” I say on a breath.
Riding up the driveway, I thought the house was big. But standing in front of it, experiencing the full scale of it, I realize it’s not big, it’s massive.
The provost’s mansion is maybe twenty times the size of our humble farmhouse.
There are three stories and two wings with a balcony off the second floor, another off the east wing, probably more around back.
Every window is alive with light and moving silhouettes.
Laughter tangles up with music, spilling out the open double doors.
A beam of excitement must flash across my face because Rook says, “Do you love parties, Kansas?”
“I didn’t think I did. But this is wonderful, and I’m not accustomed to many wonderful things.”
“I’m so glad to hear that!” Ana claps her hands.
“If you’re impressed by this, you’ll be wowed off your feet by the inside.
I can’t take credit for the provost’s mansion, of course.
It was built over a hundred years ago. But I find myself showing it off like a curator at a museum.
I’m just really in love with its beauty. ”
“I don’t blame you.”
She heads up the curved stone steps that lead to the house’s main portico.
Giant iron lanterns hang beneath the portico’s roof, installed at even intervals. Flowers in a rainbow of colors are potted in tall black urns on either side of the door. And standing beside them are two staff members dressed in matching aubergine long coats.
“Welcome to the celebration, Provost,” the man on the left says and bows low.
“Welcome to the celebration, Dorothy of Kansas,” the woman on the right says and matches the bow.
“Thank you for having me.”
The music is louder here, and I catch the sound of a violinist, a cellist, maybe a viola. The music is lively and well-timed.
I’m going to get home. I swear it on my heart. But is there anything wrong with enjoying all the magnificent things this strange land has to offer?
Nervously, I grab my skirt to keep it from gathering beneath my feet, and step inside.