Chapter 24

Twenty-Four

In the dawn light, Wicker Castle still looked Wicked. Smoke clung to the tower in an ominous mist, and the air smelled of burning, but Lional had been right: the fire had fizzled out once it had consumed all of the paper knowledge and bits of furniture in the observation chamber.

The few loyal servants to the Wicked Witch had retreated from the castle, some sprinting away in fear, some laden down with whatever ill-gotten gains they could carry out with them.

The princely Lional had shown his good graces in not pursuing any of the thieves or sycophants who had abandoned the reclaimed Wicker Castle. In fact, he'd even opened the gates, though the truly traitorous had still crept out as if they were being forced to escape.

"Could you make one more wish?" Straw had asked, peering up at a small snowdrift that had banked on one of the apple tree branches in the courtyard.

Lional had patted the scarecrow on the shoulder. "We need the wand to undo that, mon pote. Fear not—if we must take every last wand to the experts, we shall."

Nick, watching the exchange, had a feeling that it wasn't the orchard of lost souls that Straw wanted a wish for. His triangular eyes were solely fixed on that little ridge of snow, no doubt thinking of a creation made from those glittering particles. The ice maiden who had sacrificed her life to help them.

The quintet had spent the better part of the first couple hours of Nick's freedom outside, drinking pitchers of water and coughing up the residue of the fire above, content to sit on the flagstones and fill their lungs with fresh air, despite the cold.

Once the dust and smoke had settled, the group had gathered together in a wasted garden that flanked the west side of the castle, where stone benches and high, wind-battling walls provided the perfect place to discuss what was going to happen next.

Nick had no idea, but he was more hopeful than he'd ever been in his life.

Dorothy's words about being at home in his arms still resonated, and his cheeks were burning with the ache of a smile that he refused to fold away.

"Is the possibility of Zolesha returning a concern?" Dorothy asked Lional, who handed out thick blankets that he'd brought from inside the castle. He was the only one who'd dared to go back in.

"It is a grave concern," the prince answered, "and once we have settled our nerves and recovered from this joyful, yet bittersweet day, I will return down the mountain and request Bellina's assistance. As much as she abhors me, and as much as she is right to, it is in her best interest to protect her father and the orchard. She has been preparing for this event for quite some time. I am hopeful that she will know of a way to keep the Wicked Witch out until we can find the proper wand to cure my people and, lastly, myself."

Straw sighed. "If only there was a wand for everyone who has suffered."

Nick grabbed the stuffed-man's attention, understanding his meaning, and said, "Maybe Bellina has an answer to that, too. Do you think you could jog down the mountain and bring her back up here as soon as possible, instead of Lional? All that running practice you did shouldn't be for nothing."

Straw immediately perked up. "Of course! I'm always happy to help. Is anyone going with me? Mr. Nick, you were supposed to run with me—maybe you could do it now?"

"No," Dorothy replied gently, "I don't think Nick can keep up with you. His legs are all new, after all. And I think you'll be safe now that the monkey birds have scattered. Maybe you could even let everyone in Scwarf know that the castle has been reclaimed. That might be fun. I'm sure there'll be cheering. Perhaps some dancing."

"Reclaimed for now," Lional put in, his lion-face pensive and his whiskers flicking.

"Well then, this is very important! So, I'll go right now," the scarecrow said, shedding the blanket he didn't need and heading for the garden exit.

"Wait a moment," Lional said, rising. "Let us see if we can find an outfit in better repair than the one you have now. I am afraid you might fall to pieces on the way down the mountain. Or get blown into the trees with the first summer storm. Of course, some fresh straw from the horse stables as well. Let us get you looking like the hero you are."

The prince-turned-beast was right—the scarecrow was in rough condition. He had one arm hanging at his side with the wood exposed and charred in places. The shirt was burned through, and he was thinner than Nick had ever seen him, with so much straw missing. It was a wonder the straw man hadn't been consumed in the fire. A wonder named Myrsina.

The pang of the snow girl's sacrifice thumped against Nick's heart.

And though it was sorrowful, it also brought with it the bittersweet joy of being able to feel and express that emotion.

Dorothy caught Nick's eyes.

"You okay?" she asked, with every bit of empathy he had come to know from her.

"I am." Nick gave a half smile. "I'm just not used to being able to express everything, and I'm not sure I remember how."

Dorothy came over to his stone bench, while Lional led Straw to the garden gates, the scarecrow protesting, "But if I am a hero, then I already look like a hero. This is what I wore to do my hero-ing."

Dorothy sidled up next to Nick and put her arm around his midsection. It sent goosebumps from his shoulders down to his toes, which brought another freeing smile to his lips. He leaned into her half-hug and brushed his lips to her temple, pulling his blanket around them both.

"Are you really staying?" Nick asked, feeling like he was fourteen again and working up the nerve to hear a response from a crush. It was better than being the one responding, considering what had happened last time someone had a crush on him.

"For as long as the Curse will let me," Dorothy replied, resting her head on his shoulder. "But I do worry what will happen when the Winter Solstoz comes. Will the magic send me back in a new way or anchor me here in a new way? Will it double its power and do something unexpected? Frankly, I have questions, but we have… what, two-hundred-plus days before we have to answer that?" She chuckled. "Someone needs to give your calendar a complete do-over."

"When Straw figures out a simpler way, I'll take it to the Wizard myself," he said softly. "Speaking of, I was thinking we should go back to the Emerald City once Lional has come to grips with things here. It'll hopefully ease your worry and verify what we need to know about the wands." Nick blew out a breath of relief and added, "I'm glad you said we'd wait with our prince among beasts while he sorts stuff out, but I also don't want to wait too long."

She nodded and wiggled into his side a little deeper. The chill of goosebumps turned into a heat that melted through his core. Her hand came up to his face and traced down the stubble of his beard.

"And what now?" Nick asked, gulping back the excitement.

"Well, now that I don't feel like I'm going to cough up my left lung," she replied, "perhaps we should test to see just how safe you are from the Curse."

"And how's that?" Nick asked.

"Why don't you show me how you feel?" Dorothy asked.

Nick leaned down in response and let his kiss show her how he really felt.

Nick and Dorothyfound her Kansas-packed bag in the room that had obviously once belonged to Lional while they had been looking for a private place to show their affection for one another. It had been taken over—and, frankly, defiled—by the Wicked Witch.

The contents of Dorothy's bag, which had been rootled through by the Wicked Witch, were a jumble across the large feather bed. Dorothy squealed in delight and dove on a pair of blue-colored shoes scattered amidst the chaos.

Toto burst through the door like a waylaid chaperone and made a running jump from the lush purple carpet onto the bed spread. He sniffed inside the opening of her pack and pulled out a little bag of what must have been treats. He sat on the edge of the bed, facing Nick with a determined look in his eyes, tail wagging.

"You want?" Nick asked.

Toto barked, dropping the bag.

Laughing, Nick opened it for him and fed him a few crunchy, bone-shaped things, while Dorothy lay back and held her treasure aloft.

"My Vans!" she declared and hugged them to her chest. "If only I could get these other ones off, I'd be in heaven." She toe-stepped the back of one of the silver heels and her foot slipped free with a dramatic bottle-cork pop.

She squealed louder, both Nick and Toto giving her a baffled look.

Glinda's magic allowed them to release from her feet, perhaps because they were expended, but the enchantment wasn't completely gone. The minute the first of the dark-gray, used-up wishing shoes left her foot, a pink bubble immediately formed around it. That shoe hovered into the air, and the other plucked itself off Dorothy's foot with another satisfying pop. Then, the two bubbles merged into one and flew out the door, down the stairs, and out the castle's main entrance, if the gentle slam was anything to judge by.

"Holy crap," Dorothy said. She propelled herself up and off the bed, where she laughed and danced on the thick purple rug below her. "Oh… oh yeah, this feels delicious." She rubbed her socked feet across the soft carpet, curling her toes into the deep pile, and plopped back onto the edge of the bed. "Breathe, little piggies! No one's off to market today. Breathe."

Toto leaped down, swiped one of the blue shoes she'd dropped in her excitement, and took off around the room, sniffing out his demand to be chased.

"Don't you dare!" Dorothy cried. "If I see so much as a nibble, I'm going to leave your treats out for the monkey birds! Give it back!"

Nick laughed at her and then looked over the pile of things she had brought with her from Kansas, as a sulky Toto trudged forward and spat the shoe at Dorothy's feet.

"Good boy," she said, breathing a sigh of relief, while Nick dropped a treat to reward his sacrifice.

With her shoes safely on her lap, she started to root through the rest of her belongings, declaring more than a few things were missing—probably given to servants or stolen during the rush of the witch's people fleeing the castle—but the remaining contents were more than enough to make up for it. Satisfied, she happily began to put on the footwear, oohing and ahhing the entire time, as she triumphantly tied the laces. Nick felt like he was watching some kind of secret ritual, but whatever put a smile like that on her face was something he wouldn't question.

"I promise to take such good care of you, girls," Dorothy announced to the shoes as she showed off one and then the other to Nick in a little flutter-kick of her feet.

"They look nice," Nick said, not quite certain what else she wanted him to actually do. The furry chaperone had already threatened the progress of their search for a private spot to… test the limits of his Curse, but her belongings and precious shoes had ended it. He wasn't annoyed, just bewildered, and a touch amused by the woman he'd fallen for, and the dog that came as part of the package.

Dorothy stuffed the rest of the contents of the bag back into her travel pack and cast him a wicked look. "What do you say we keep this search moving?" she said, as if she'd read his mind.

He shrugged. "I'm new to this, so whatever you want to do, I'll follow."

She grabbed his hand, brought it to her mouth to kiss it, and yanked him out of the room.

"Don't suppose Lional gave you any hints about secret hidey-holes or hidden rooms, did he?" she asked, as they wandered the cavernous hallways, enjoying the simple pleasure of being together. With Toto trotting along behind, of course, keeping an eye on things.

"Sadly not." Nick grinned.

"Well then, we'll just have to find them all oursel?—"

They stumbled upon the prince himself in the remnants of the library, now very much a wand room. Straw had asked if there was a wand room in the castle, and Lional now had one, whether he wanted it or not.

He stood outside on a curved balcony, paws braced on the pale stone balustrade, his mighty back to the pair. His hot breath plumed in the cold air, as if he were sighing or heaving out great, frantic breaths. Perhaps the overwhelming quantity of wands had been too much for him, or perhaps something else had drawn his attention.

Nick wasn't a whiz at geometry like Straw, but he could guess what that balcony looked down upon. It was etched upon the lionman's silhouette, his revealed claws about to leave a scar behind, to mark the moment of his bitter, sorrowful fury.

"You okay there?" Dorothy called out, leading Nick to the door that led onto the balcony. "Not planning to jump, I hope?" she added nervously.

"Gratitude for your concern, but no." Lional didn't turn. "I needed some fresh air, that is all. The library is too stuffy, and the scent of so many wands is… potent, to say the least."

Nick and Dorothy joined him at the balustrade, while Toto flopped down at the door, resting his head on his paws.

As Nick had suspected, the orchard of servants stood below. The trees were sporadically positioned around the courtyard, their trunks slightly bent as if straining forward, their roots shaped like legs frantically trying to pull away from a sticky quagmire. He could imagine the spell slamming into them as they fled the inner castle.

Dorothy made a surprised noise. "Visitors."

To Nick's equal surprise, Straw and Bellina were walking up the snowy path, heading through the still-open gates. It couldn't have been more than an hour since the scarecrow had left the desolate garden, not including the time it had probably taken to be stuffed and repaired by the prince.

"That didn't take long," Dorothy said. "You don't think Straw did the kite thing, do you?"

Lional shook his head, bushy brows furrowing. "I think, perhaps, Mademoiselle Bellina had a change of heart."

Nick nodded in agreement. "Seems that way. Lucky for us, huh? Guess we should go welcome her."

"Yes… lucky." Lional straightened up, retracting his claws. "You are right, of course. We should greet her, though I may leave the welcome to the two of you, if you do not mind?"

Dorothy squeezed the lionman's shoulder. "No problem."

The trio plus Toto headed down the stairs and met the unexpected pair in the once-elegant main foyer, now left to rack and ruin like the rest of Lional's castle. Nothing he couldn't fix, but things he shouldn't have had to fix.

Straw immediately greeted them and began speaking in his mile-a-minute excited way. "I wasn't even twenty-three minutes down the mountainside when I saw someone coming up toward me. I admit, I thought it was a flying monkey for a moment, so I stood out like a scarecrow, ready to do my best scaring, but then I saw it wasn't a flying monkey! It was a woman. Can you guess who?"

"Bellina, maybe?" Dorothy humored him.

"Yes!" Straw cried happily. "It was Bellina, and once I realized, I ran right up to her and told her that I was on my way to talk to her, and she said that when we all left town, she did a lot of thinking and thought she ought to put her differences aside and come to join us. She said she hoped she wasn't too late, and then I said…"

"That's okay," Nick cut in gently. "We'll get all the gory details later, once everyone's out of the cold and has a cup of tea or something in their hands. Let's go sit and talk." He looked back at Lional, who lingered a few polite steps behind. "The kitchens, maybe?"

Lional bowed his head. "Certainly. I shall make the tea myself."

Bellina took a large backpack that had been weighing her down and walked up to the lionman, shoving it into his chest. His paws instantly came up to hold the lumpy pack.

"Is that what you are now—the tea boy?" She sniffed. "Suits you, but how about you make yourself a bit more useful and put that wherever I'm going to be studying the wands. Then you can start boiling kettles or whatever."

The prince bowed his head to her. "Let us take tea in the Ruby Room. The… light is nicer." He cleared his throat. "Follow me, everyone."

As he headed up the wide, black-and-gold marble steps into the castle, Dorothy fell into step beside Bellina while Nick hurried forward, on legs that barely protested, to walk beside Lional. Toto split the difference, while Straw loitered awkwardly beside a puddle that had frozen over, whispering, "Myrsina? Is that you?"

"I see you're cured, woodsman," Bellina said pleasantly to Nick.

He looked over his shoulder and nodded.

"Then there's hope for all of us," she said with a warm smile that didn't quite match the watery gleam in her eyes. She'd had to pass the orchard, after all.

Dorothy spoke up. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but unless you can get your mitts on a pair of wishing shoes or whatever else they put wishes in here, you guys are still a little stuck right now." She paused, before adding in a rush, "I wore mine out, or I'd have saved a wish for your father and the others."

"Ah," Bellina responded. "The silver shoes, I assume?"

"You assume correctly," Dorothy answered, her smile apologetic.

Toto barked a few times, and the beast-prince chuckled.

"What was that?" Bellina asked the lionman. "Did I forget to take off my jester hat? Is it funny that they were able to cure Nick, but we're not going to be able to save my dad from being eaten by termites and crapped on by birds?"

"Never," Lional responded, his voice half growl. Either his patience with the wand aficionado's obvious hatred toward him was wearing thin, after a particularly trying few days, or being accused of not caring was more than he could tolerate. "I just found Toto's comment to be amusing, that is all."

"What?" Dorothy and Nick asked at the same time.

Nick beat her to the next words. "Are you saying you understand Toto?"

"Of course. I have always been able to converse with him. Are you saying that you cannot?" Lional responded.

Dorothy laughed. "No, but for real, what's going on?"

They stopped just in front of the doorway to a large antechamber, the kind of place the prince would likely receive guests. Lional paused, slipping his mighty paws into two big bronze rings that, ironically, were held in the mouths of two bronze lions that could've been his brothers. With a shiver down his hackles, fluffing up the fur that ran down into the collar of his shirt, he pushed the grand doors open.

Beyond, a dais with two matching wooden thrones sitting atop it looked down over a vast ballroom, the floor a sparklingly smooth twin to the observation chamber's. Dusty shafts of sunlight pierced the numerous windows, catching the facets of what Nick was now certain were gem-glass, crafted and arranged to resemble stained glass, but far more intricate… and obscenely expensive, no doubt. Maybe, that was why Lional had hesitated, in case Bellina took the room to be a display of regal braggadocio.

Magnificent purple and gold rugs lay beneath ostentatious chandeliers, as if they were waiting to catch the light fixtures, but aside from that, the ballroom was devoid of furniture. At least on first inspection.

Looking closer, Nick noticed that, stuffed into the cloistered walkways and mezzanine floors, was all manner of forgotten furniture: rolled-up rugs, sturdy oak tables with chairs stacked on top, cabinets, wardrobes, side-tables. A secondhand treasure trove.

For a moment, it looked like Lional might go up to the throne and sit on it, as a not-so-gentle reminder to Bellina of his position, but the princely lion turned and placed Bellina's bag, full of what was obviously books, on the edge of the dais. That done, he went into the nearest cloistered walkway and came out with a bench on each muscular shoulder, setting them down in front of Bellina's belongings. Two armchairs, a circular table, and a small, raised bed followed, arranged haphazardly around the bright pool where a slant of sunlight shone the warmest.

Soon, they were all sitting, waiting for Lional to bring the tea back from the kitchens. No one had spoken, as if there was a "No Talking" sign hung on the walls somewhere. The room had that air to it, vibrations of reverence keeping everyone hushed and pensive.

At last, the lionman returned with two tea trays, balanced with the precision of a lifelong waiter, and everyone audibly exhaled with relief as he set them down, the clatter of ceramic and spoons snapping them out of their silence.

"You were saying?" Dorothy prompted, as Nick reached over to pour.

Lional blinked in confusion. "Pardon?"

Toto barked a few times, and Lional grunted. "Oh, of course. He says he has been trying to talk to you for years and assumed you knew what he was saying, mademoiselle."

Dorothy raised her eyebrows and said, "I guessed at what he was saying, but I didn't think he really…" Dorothy hesitated. "Do you understand me right now, Toto?"

He barked once.

"Yes," Lional said.

"Well, I'll be doggone." Dorothy laughed and leaned forward, scooping Toto up, getting half a dozen face licks as a reward.

She put Toto on the tabletop, and he sat down panting, barking a few times.

"Not on the furniture, if you please. That is why I brought you your own place to sit," Lional urged, and Toto hopped down, taking pride of place on the dog bed that the lionman had retrieved for him and placed next to Dorothy. "He says you do not have to understand him, because you love him and th—" Lional's translation was interrupted by Bellina.

"As fascinating as all this is," she said, "we need to discuss preparations to protect the castle so we can figure out which of the wands will cure our people. That's why I'm here. For my dad. I'm not here to drink tea and pretend that we're friendly." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Lional.

The lionman's nose twitched. "Can we not be civil?"

"No, we bloody well can't!" Bellina snapped. "You know what you did, Lional. This is all your fault."

"Prince Lional," he reminded her in a firm tone. "And I am aware, but if you are to be here for a while, then?—"

"I can do my work without having to be your pal, Lional," she shot back. "In fact, I'll work a damn sight better if we barely cross paths. Anger does have this tendency to make a girl see red, and I'd like clear vision for all the notches I'm going to have to pore over."

Lional's ears flattened, his giant paw gripping his teacup so hard that Nick instinctively tugged Dorothy closer to him on the bench where they'd ended up, so he'd bear the brunt of the ceramic fireworks, not her. This was no poppy farmer dinner party, though it was nice to be pressed against Dorothy on a bench again.

Before Bellina could fully unleash her temper, jumping in on the exhale that suggested blue murder was about to scream from her lips, Nick coughed into his hand and stood up.

"Well, it seems you two have a lot of planning to do. We'll let you hash it all out in peace," Nick said as he inclined his head toward the doorway while shooting a pointed look at Dorothy. She quickly nodded and got up from the table as well.

"Yes," Dorothy added, "you guys seem to have this under control."

"I don't think they do," the scarecrow responded behind his hand, forgetting to whisper. "They seem quite the mess. This is not how you strategize. You should be…"

Nick grabbed the scarecrow by his freshly stuffed shirt and pulled him backward from the table, his wooden limbs flopping.

"We'll just get out of your hair," Nick said, over the top of the scarecrow's words.

Dorothy led the way out of the room. Meanwhile, Bellina sank into the bench, seemingly having the good sense to be embarrassed at her own behavior.

"Actually," Bellina said to Lional, "maybe we should take a break and come at this with fresh heads. It was a long walk up and a longer day for you, according to Straw. And my dad always said you shouldn't argue over tea; it spoils the brew and sours the cream cakes."

The prince's grip loosened on his teacup. "It has indeed been a long day. Apologies for my frayed patience." He pointedly rubbed the smoke and ash that was layered down the front of his outfit. "I have no cream cakes, but we should not risk spoiling the milk."

"They finally agreed on something," the scarecrow said happily.

"We are not agreeing!" Bellina immediately responded, her voice echoing through the ballroom.

"Yes," Lional remarked, "I do not think she could agree on anything I have to say. To do that, she would have to listen in the first place."

Bellina glowered at him like she wanted to drive her teaspoon through his chest, and it started right back up again.

Nick shook his head and Dorothy grabbed Straw's other arm, both of them pulling him completely from the room before his comments kicked off an actual war between the other two. Toto scampered after them, obviously thinking it was quite the fun game.

They let the large oak door silently close on the shrieking and roaring, and Nick burst into laughter, quickly joined by Dorothy.

For the scarecrow's part, he only looked confused. "Is it safe to leave them? I think she hates our friend Lional. They sound very angry."

"They're either going to kill each other," Nick said, "or they're going to kiss. I can't tell which. Either way, that's a lot of passion in there."

Dorothy smirked. "Does that mean you want to get in an argument with me?"

Nick raised his hands in immediate surrender. "Oh, no! If I ever get that riled up, the Curse is likely to come back and turn me into solid tin or something."

"You mean you wouldn't risk my temper? Not very brave of you. Maybe we should call you the cowardly tinman."

It was the first time she had used his unfortunate nickname, but if she was attempting to annoy him, it wasn't going to work. He was far too happy.

"You can call me whatever you want, I'm impervious to you wanting to argue."

"You wouldn't risk the enjoyment of a good argument with me, even though after the arguing comes the making-up part?" Dorothy quirked an eyebrow.

"I'd only argue with you if I needed to," Nick quickly returned.

"We're arguing right now," Dorothy pointed out.

Nick chuckled as he threw his arm around her shoulders and led her down the hallway, his arm resting across the pack on her back. He itched to take it for her, but she'd already told him she wasn't a damsel and was perfectly fine carrying it herself. And he didn't want to be accused of being a damsel-chaser again.

"Perhaps we should just find one of these million rooms to sleep in for the night," Nick said. "At the very least, let's get that pack stowed away and get changed. Maybe we can raid the kitchen afterward. I'm starving."

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind crashing out for a little while after a nice snack. And by ‘nice,' I mean something so sweet and naughty and generally bad for me that I'm jittering by the time I'm done," Dorothy responded, grinning.

Is she talking about an actual snack or… something else? Nick's heart crackled with an excited kind of uncertainty. Being Curseless really was like starting life again, and there were still no guidebooks for women the second time around.

She bent over and gave Toto a quick itch and scratch. "And I think Toto wouldn't mind more than that little treat from earlier."

Her canine companion sprinted away, chasing after a cat that made the mistake of peeking down the hallway at them. Nick squinted, wondering if his mind was playing tricks with him, but he could've sworn the cat was wearing clothes… and a ruff around its neck. Then again, he wouldn't have put anything past Zolesha—dressing up a cat would be the least of her crimes.

"Not that kind of food!" Dorothy called after him.

The scarecrow jauntily pursued the cat and the dog, telling Toto how important it was not to eat other animals that might be friends.

Nick and Dorothy wandered through the castle in the vague direction of the kitchens, enjoying the quiet moment, when a jaw-cracking yawn found its way onto Nick's face.

"I'm sorry I'm such boring company," Dorothy teased him, giving him an elbow in his ribs.

He overexaggerated a painful "oof" and rubbed the bruise to his pride, stepping away from her.

"Warn a guy first," he said and then added, "Hopefully you don't throw elbows like that any other time."

"Are you saying you're worried about being in bed with me?" Dorothy asked, a sly smile on her face. "Did you forget we've done that before? If memory serves, you slept very well that night. I'd wager you'll sleep even better this time."

And that was what it took for Nick to truly believe the Curse had been broken. He went red-hot from the center of his stomach to the top of his head, his legs a little unsteady. But nothing creaked, nothing seized, nothing hurt, his skin soft and pliable and eager to pull her closer, to feel her against him.

Her touch was cool as she brought a tender hand to his red-flushed cheek.

"Look at that," she said. "What a beautiful color."