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“I didn’t mean—”

“You never mean, brother. You act impulsively, selfishly. Until now, you’ve gotten away with most of it because you’re charming and powerful and clever. But all of that was of little consequence when it truly mattered.”

I nod at Gabriel, dead on the table, now back in his human form.

“How can you be the Great and Powerful Wizard of Oz when you couldn’t even save your little brother?”

A tear rolls down his face and he quickly swipes it away.

“I’m leaving now. Don’t follow me.” I turn away, and as I do, there’s a pop of air behind me.

When I turn around to check, the Wizard and Gabriel are gone.

THIRTY-SIXDorothy

As the crowd scatters, I grab Blue by the arm and pull us from the stage and down to the palace dungeon. This was another detail Tin and I went over at great length to make sure I got it right. He told me it would be best if I shot for the end of the first level because most of the guards would be stationed at the mouth and I’m glad to find he was right.

“What are we doing down here?” Blue asks.

“Shhh,” I say. “I’m here to get my dog.”

“Your what?”

“Never mind. Just … stay quiet.”

Tin told me that the first level of the dungeon was used for prisoners from higher society, that it was warmer, drier, and the beds were softer.

The first few cells we pass are empty and on the fourth, I nearly pass by before a tiny shadow stretches on the bed and then hops down to the floor.

“Toto!” I whisper, and he trots to the metal bars.

“Oh.” Blue crouches by the iron bars. “Hi, old man.”

“He’s not old, he’s … Okay, yes, actually he is old in dog years. But I don’t like to think about that.”

“Why?”

“Because dogs don’t live as long as humans and Toto is my best friend.”

Blue wraps his hands around the bars and looks at Toto. “Is that right? You’re making best friends now?”

I frown. “Dogs don’t talk.”

“Do they not?”

“No.”

“That’s rather unfortunate for you,” he tells Toto.

I check the surrounding area for keys and find none. Which is just as well. I imagine unlocking and pulling open an iron door would be loud, and anyway, I’m starting to get the hang of these slippers. I might as well keep practicing.

“I’m coming in,” I tell Toto. “But stand back.”

He cants his head, regarding me with the look of his I’ve come to know as silent judgment.

“Go take cover.”

He trots back to the bed and hides beneath it.