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“Can I ask you a favor?”

Remy nods, their pearl earring swinging. “Shoot.”

“Can you keep an eye on my father? I mean, don’t go out of your way, but just make sure he doesn’t get into trouble or—”

“I will gladly help if I can.”

I breathe out. “Thank you. I just … he’s…” I can’t seem to find the words to sum up my thoughts around the man. Or rather, god. Do I want to get to know him better? Do I want him to stick around just so he can disappoint me more? I don’t know. But I don’t want him to stumble into a gutter either.

“You don’t have to explain,” Remy assures me. “He will be looked after.”

“Thank you.”

Basil comes up to us. He had told me he’d dress in his finest, and I wasn’t sure what to expect from that, but I must admit I’m impressed.

His finest is an aubergine suit with poppies stitched along the lapel. His silver necklace is out from his shirt and gleaming in the light.

“I thought we were going to fight a revolution?” I ask.

“You are fighting a revolution. I’m managing it.”

I laugh. “I like you, Basil.”

“As you should!” he shouts. “Enough chattering. We should be moving. Night descends.”

Remy has Sabil already saddled for me, so I position my foot in the stirrup and heft myself up.

Ohhh, it feels good to be on the back of a horse again.

I reach forward and pat Sabil on the neck and she tosses her head, snuffling.

Behind us, the East Gate thunks as the locks open and the gate mechanisms clang to life.

I give Sabil a nudge, reins in hand, and she turns for me, putting us at the head of the cavalry.

The gate is so massive that it takes a full minute for it to open, and as the seconds tick by, the anxiety wells up in my throat, hot and almost stifling.

Just who do I think I am? My entire life, I’ve been nothing more than an orphan farmgirl, plucking weeds and milking cows and fetching laid eggs from the henhouse.

I don’t know the first thing about leading people anywhere, let alone to victory.

I shake it aside, shoving it down into a box that I firmly clasp the lid on.

I don’t entirely know why the West left me in Kansas all those years, or why she decided she now wanted me to return to Oz to reclaim the throne.

All I know is that these people deserve to see the light and I may be the only person to help them do it.

Because everyone else in power seems either incapable of it, or disinterested in it.

With the gate open and the Yellow Brick Road stretching in front of us, I give Sabil a whistle and start forward.

It only takes us a few hours of riding before we see the long branches of the Ancient Forest rise up against the dark sky.

I don’t know what season it is here in Oz, but the trees appear to be absent of leaves, making their branches look like a hundred gnarled fingers.

Basil trots beside me. “So what’s the plan?”

I swallow against the unease threatening to suffocate me.