Chapter Twenty-Seven. Dorothy
TWENTY-SEVEN
Dorothy
The second I step inside the provost’s mansion, I’m engulfed in gratitude, introductions, celebration, and flattery. Everyone wants to shake my hand and say hello, and I don’t think there is a corner in the mansion that could hide me from any of it.
I lose track of Rook the second we enter the main ballroom, and within minutes, I’m dizzy from the attention and the spectacle.
There are string lights everywhere strung around the ceiling and around doorways and columns. Three huge crystal chandeliers hang from the domed ballroom ceiling. The crystals, as they turn, send rainbows shooting across the wood floor.
I think the Enders have gotten clever with light to help combat some of the melancholy that must come from persistent dark clouds and lack of sun.
Back home, I think I’m more of a spring and autumn girl, life and death, sunshine and cloudiness.
But I could never deny the beauty of a warm, sunny summer day.
Some of these people, especially the children, were born into a world with no sunlight.
They don’t know anything other than darkness.
I’m glad they’ve found a way around it. Because the warmth their light imbues into a room is undeniable.
Ana guides me around the room, introducing me to important Ender families.
There are the merchants, the other council members and their partners.
There are bakers (the most revered trade here in the East End) and scholars, there are historians of magic and experts on Oz.
There are artists and authors. And proving my theory about light, Ana introduces me to a table of lightsmiths, the men and women responsible for lighting Glimming Hollow.
This I’m most interested in. I sit at the lightsmiths’ table and they welcome me into their fold. They tell me their reasons for the specific light design for the ball, how important it was that we felt like the room was full of warmth.
They tell me that most of the light is powered by magic pooled by the witches and the wizard.
“But how does it get here?” I ask. “No one knows the wizard, right? So it’s not like he walks into town and waves his wand?”
That makes the entire table laugh. The man on my left, who introduced himself as Darius, is the first one to explain.
He seems the most knowledgeable at the table and is easily excited by the conversation of light.
Whenever the conversation steers toward the science behind it, his brown eyes widen and glimmer.
“This is truly the best part,” he tells me, his hands moving as he explains. “The electrical grid used to be run by magic when the royal family ruled. But the entire system was destroyed in the war along with everyone who knew how to run it.
“So…” He leans in, his eyes widening. “I, along with this entire table, consulted with the Cardinal Witches to install a new grid system powered by magic.”
The table is silent, waiting for the reveal. I don’t understand anything about electrical systems or grids so I’m expecting him to tell me something about power lines and transformers that might as well be another language.
But then he shouts, “It’s the Yellow Brick Road!”
“What?! Really?”
The table erupts into chatter about the system, how they devised it, how it works. They are all passionate about it and their passion is infectious.
I just thought the Yellow Brick Road was a quirky road. But when I first came upon it after leaving the house, I noticed it glittered despite the lack of light. The magic explains it.
I had no idea I was literally walking on magic.
“That’s so cool,” I tell them.
“Yes!” Darius refills his cup of tea with the pot in the center of the table.
“If you were able to get to the sky, which you can’t unless you’re a witch or wizard, but if you could, you’d see the Yellow Brick Road running here and there, all across the Land of Oz like a golden vein, glittering with lifeblood. ”
“It used to be a river of magic,” one woman says.
“Until the gods left,” another adds.
“And all roads lead to the Emerald City,” a voice says behind me.
I turn to see Rook.
“Yes!” Darius says.
“How did you know that?” I ask Rook.
He shrugs. “The fact burbled up out of nowhere.”
I rise from my chair. “Are you getting your memories back?”
“I don’t know.” He clasps his hands behind him, and his suit jacket tightens across his broad shoulders.
“Are facts the same as memories? I still can’t tell you my name, unfortunately.
But I can tell you about the roads. I can tell you that magic tastes sweet when you’re near it.
I can tell you that a curse can come out of nowhere, as fickle as the wind. ”
Oh god, do I have to worry about being cursed now? The thought never crossed my mind.
I reach over and squeeze Rook’s arm. “All of those things are a start.”
“I suppose they are.”
I turn back to the table. “Thank you all for your company tonight. I enjoyed hearing about your work.”
They raise their glasses and teacups to me as we head off. “To Dorothy!”
Rook and I continue on. It feels like everyone is watching me, and the urge to hide behind some of the decorative potted hedges is growing by the second.
We make it halfway around the room when Ana scurries over. “Have either of you seen Fink yet?” She scans the ballroom, looking for the council member.
“I haven’t,” Rook says.
“Me either,” I add.
Ana huffs out. “He’s supposed to be in charge of the guard rotation tonight but he’s nowhere to be found!” She makes another grumble in the back of her throat before flitting off.
Rook and I keep walking.
We’re stopped by a middle-aged couple who thank me for killing the witch. Just as we leave them, two men step in front of us and shake my hand, questioning where I got the strength or the fortitude to kill a Cardinal Witch.
I have no answer for them, and while I stumble over an explanation, Rook tells them we were just on our way to get a drink, and would they excuse us?
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“They were only pretending to respect you,” Rook says, letting me hold the curve of his elbow as we continue walking. “Don’t waste your time on small men.”
I glance up at him. He’s smiling at someone waving at us, his attention stolen from me.
Considering he’s a man with no memories, I continue to be in awe at the confidence he seems to pull out of nothing.
We’re nearly to the drink table when three women, all in dresses of varying shades of purple, cut us off. It’s clear from the onset that they’re less interested in me and my murdering a witch and more interested in Rook.
They ask him where he’ll go from here, if he plans to stay.
We have yet to discuss any of this. After tonight, I plan on leaving to see the wizard.
“Kansas and I will be departing tomorrow for the Emerald City,” he tells them.
My gaze cuts to him.
“Oh, but you must stay!” one woman says as she reaches out for his other arm. “You’ll fit right in here in the Hollow!”
He’s coming with me?
“While I’m flattered,” he says, his attention still trained on the women, “I much prefer staying by Kansas’s side.”
“I thought your name was Dorothy?” the blond woman asks.
All three women turn to me. They’ve barely acknowledged me until now.
“It is Dorothy. Kansas is a nickname.”
“But you’re from Kansas?” the third woman asks.
“Yes.”
They all laugh together. “What an odd nickname! Imagine if everyone called me Hollow?”
They dissolve into more laughter.
“Imagine if your nickname was Insufferable?”
The women go immediately silent.
“Rook,” I say. “It’s okay.”
“If you’ll excuse us,” he tells the women. “I promised Kansas”—he puts extra emphasis on my nickname—“a dance.”
Heat escalates up my throat. “Are you serious?”
He draws me away. “Yes.”
“I don’t know how.”
“I’m a very good dancer. I think.”
“But … if we’re trying to make a show or something, we really don’t have to. I’m not bothered by those women making fun of my nickname. In fact, I think I’ve come to love it. It’s like an inside joke we have between us and—”
“Kansas.” He stops me on the edge of the dance floor.
“What?”
“I like your nickname too, but if you give them another second of your energy, they’ve won. So don’t.”
“I— Okay.”
“Now dance with me.”
I swallow, heart racing in my ears. It wasn’t a question, but a command. I like his decisiveness. The way he bends for no one.
“I have to warn you. I’m not a very good dancer. In fact, I’ve skipped the last two harvest festivals because the one before that saw me tripping over my own feet and ending up face-first in a pyramid of hay bales.”
Rook chuckles. “I’m sure it was an accident.”
“Everyone laughed at me.”
“Traitors, the lot of them.” He’s still smiling as he says this, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Okay. Fine.” I place my hand in his and he immediately pulls me onto the dance floor in perfect timing with the string quartet’s change in music.
My first few steps are clumsy, and I apologize to Rook over and over again, but he takes it all in stride. His grip on me is sure, his steps even more confident. He is a good dancer. More capable than I would have guessed.
The more I get to know him, the less I can reckon with the man who seems naive at one point, then almost brutally honest the next. Capable and self-assured in everything he does.
It’s ridiculously sexy.
I lose sight of the room’s perimeter as Rook spins me around, then pulls me close again.
His hand is warm at the small of my back, the pressure of his fingertips bordering on possessive.
And it sends a tiny thrill through my body.
He neither confirmed nor denied the fact that we were making a show, but it’s clear now that we are.
He’s showing off. For me, for the room, for all of us.
We move with the other dancers, all of us in and out of each other like the constant rolling and retreating of ocean waves. My face starts to hurt I’m smiling and laughing so much. I don’t stumble and somehow manage to keep up with Rook.