The Tinman is standing behind her, now fully alert.
“S-s-sorry.”
He scowls at her and steps past, taking his axe in his silver hand. He pulls it loose with no effort at all.
The wood splits open, releasing its hold, leaving behind a gaping wound.
“You passed out,” Cleo says, though she’s not sure why. Rarely does she use words she hasn’t agonized over again and again.
“And?” He turns to look at her, the axe handle resting on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” she says again.
“How long was I out?”
“About twenty minutes.”
“Faos return?”
“Not yet.”
“Fetch me another scrap of fabric that belonged to the girl. Her scent might be waning. We need something fresh.”
Cleo swallows, nods, hurries up the stairs again. This time she goes straight to Dorothy’s room. It is the only one with the door left open. The others are either locked or led to empty rooms.
There are probably Enders still hiding in the locked rooms,Cleo thinks, trying not to dwell too much on how close they are to the Tinman, how volatile and unpredictable he can be.
Dorothy’s room doesn’t reveal much about the girl. It’s clear she didn’t spend much time here.
Cleo checks the dresser but finds the drawers empty. She checks the closet and finds the same.
There is nothing left in the room.
Except the bedding.
Desperate to present something, Cleo strips one of the feather pillows of its case and takes that downstairs. When she hands it over to the Tinman, he eyes it suspiciously at first before giving in, snatching the cloth from her hands.
He goes outside and puts his fingers into his mouth and whistles.
The sound is quick and high-pitched and echoes through the city streets.
Cleo watches from the doorway, from the safety of the inn.
Within minutes, Faos and two of his soldiers land outside in the empty cobblestone street.
“Any luck?” the Tinman asks.
“We had her scent and tracked her to the outskirts of town, but then it dropped.”
Faos folds his wings in. He’s wearing a brown leather breastplate and leather vambraces. He is a soldier in every way, but does he want to be? Everyone in Oz knows that the Witch of the West commands him and his soldiers through magic.
If he wasn’t commanded by the witch, what would he be filling his days with?
What would any of them be doing right now if they weren’t hunting Dorothy Gale?
Not for the first time, Cleo questions why the Witch of the West brought her here, and if she knew Dorothy had the power to kill a Cardinal Witch when no one else in Oz has ever succeeded.
And not for lack of trying.
