Page 5

Why pretend he was a weak, defenseless mortal only to reveal himself in the end?

He’s playing with her, but not in any of the ways I’m familiar with.

The Wizard does not traipse around Oz pretending to be a mouse. There are some things even he is not willing to do.

I glance at the girl again.

Perhaps my brother has his own suspicions about her.

But the remaining question is why the fuck would he leave her with me?

It’s almost like he wants to flaunt his prize in front of my face.

But she’s not his and something tells me she’s not the type of woman to belong to anyone.

Pain lances up my back, and I’m finding it difficult to rotate my neck, reminding me I’m still short on my last dose.

Kit in hand, I find a corner to tuck myself into before I collapse on the stone. The trembling has already begun, and my hands are shaking so badly that I have to take several deep breaths to try to settle.

As I wait for some semblance of control, I think of Gabriel. I think of all the time and effort I put into freeing him, only to lose him again.

I need to find the gods. That’s what the Wizard said to me right before I lost consciousness. And he took Gabriel to help him do it.

Gabriel may be free now, but if the Wizard demands he stay, he will stay. Our youngest brother has never been one to break loyalties, even when it doesn’t suit him.

For as long as the gods have been gone, there have been people trying to find them and bring them back. Everyone believes that if the gods return, the dark cloud will dissipate, the impassable desert will retreat, and all will be well again.

My brother, the Great and Powerful Wizard, is many things, but benevolent is not one of them.

Furthermore, he likes being the most powerful in Oz. It’s almost a compulsion at this point.

No fucking way he’d want to return the gods to Oz out of the goodness of his heart. Not even to save it. So if he wants to find them, it’s for his own selfish reasons. I’m just not sure what those reasons are.

I open the tin dosing kit on my lap. I still have a few hits left, but I’ll need to resupply soon.

I ready the needle, then tie off my arm, looking for a vein. It takes a minute. I’ve been using my left arm too much lately and haven’t given my veins enough time to heal between doses.

“Come on. Fuck.” I put the syringe between my teeth and then give the crook of my elbow a tap. My metal fingers are stiff and clumsy but beneath my prodding, a vein starts to appear. “Thank the gods,” I mutter, catching the syringe and lining it up.

When I’m sure of the insertion, I press down on the plunger and my breathing slows.

Fuck. That’s what I needed.

I lay my head back against the cool stone as my eyes slip closed.

“Much … better,” I mutter to no one in particular.

The blood rushes through my ears and for a moment, it almost sounds like the thumping of a heart.

But that can’t be …

I have no heart.

TWODorothy

A great, heaving gasp pulls me awake and it takes me several seconds to realize the sound is coming from my throat.

Panic is driving me before reason can catch up and I shove off the wet, cool stone, staggering to my feet, searching the room for any sign of Rook.