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“No.” He narrows his eyes, then scans my front where a stain of Rook’s blood has turned my armor sticky and shiny. “Where did they take you?”

I don’t want to tell him, and not telling him tells him all he needs to know.

“Crice.” He turns away and starts pulling up arrows from several of the dead men. “Is that your blood or his?”

“His.”

“Well, that’s something.”

“I stabbed him.”

Tin looks at me over his shoulder. “Where?”

“In the guts.”

He snickers. “That’s the least of what that asshole deserves.”

“He said he can send me home.”

“Oh yeah? And what did you say?”

“I didn’t answer him.”

“Good.” Tin kicks a man over then undoes the strap holding his crossbow in place on his chest. “What else did he say?”

“He read me part of the West’s letter. And it confirms what he said—she wanted me to overthrow him and reclaim the throne.”

“He could be lying about that part.”

I pull the letter from my pocket. “Except I stole the letter back.”

Tin stands up, brows raised. He gives me a low whistle. “Impressive. What did the rest say?”

I unfold it as he continues stripping a dead man of his weapon and holster, then adjusts the straps so he can place it on his chest.

Do not trust the Wizard of Oz.

Do not seek him. He is never what he seems.

My darling Dorothy, you must destroy him if you want to reclaim your rightful place on the throne. And only by destroying him will you bring down the dark cloud that has cursed Oz for too long.

You are destined to save this great land. That’s not a prediction. Just a mother’s knowing in her gut. That’s why my family wanted you exiled. You were always going to be more powerful than they were.

Please know that I always loved you. I thought of you every day. Knowing you would return here was the only thing that kept me going. I only wish I could have spent more of that time with you. But my death is truly the catalyst. That is a prediction I’m willing to put my life on.

One last thing before I leave you …

Tin has his stolen crossbow strapped into the leather holster on his chest and several arrows nocked into the strap beside it when I glance up at him.

“What?” he says.

“Do you know someone named Blue?”

“The drunk?”

“You do know him?”

“Yes. Why?”