At one end of the cave a black stream flowed into a high-ceilinged tunnel; nearer to us, it spread into a broad, shallow pool. A long dock stretched out into the water, and tied to it was a black boat carved into the shape of a dragon. Jet-black scales glimmered along its sides, and leathery black sails shaped like wings waved gently in the breeze drifting off the river.

Another many-headed beetle dressed in a captain’s uniform—complete with tiny sailor hats perched atop each of his heads—jumped to attention as we approached. Lang led us out onto the dock, and the captain helped each of us climb aboard.

Madison refused his outstretched, segmented leg with a shudder, muttering a curse under her breath as she whacked her shins on the edge of the boat. The beetle untied us from the dock—and the boat stretched its wings. Madison squeaked in surprise and even Nox looked alarmed.

“It’s alive!” I exclaimed.

“Of course she’s alive,” Lang said, looking at me in puzzlement. “How do you travel by water in the Other Place?”

I thought about explaining that Kansas was landlocked, and that we used cars, not dragons, but decided against it. Instead, I sank back into the bench carved into the boat’s hollow body.

Except it wasn’t carved, I realized—it was a smooth ridge of bone covered in leathery skin that was warm from the heat of the dragon boat’s body. Peeking over the side, I saw huge, scaly legs paddling strongly underneath us. The captain controlled the dragon boat with a set of long leather reins. I tried not to think about our boat’s long, sharp, and very deadly-looking teeth.

The river carried us through a seemingly endless series of dimly lit tunnels and underground canals. In places, we saw other traffic—mostly emaciated-looking peasants dressed in tattered rags, poling along in skiffs pieced together from bits and scraps, but also a few boats like ours ferrying people who were obviously much richer.

As we traveled, I told Nox and Lang about what Lurline had showed me. And I couldn’t be sure, but I almost sensed Lang softening as I talked. As if she was finally, finally starting to believe that we might be on her side, too.

Each time we passed another boat, Lang gestured for us to duck down. The boat spread its wings even wider as we sailed past, hiding us under its huge wings.

I was well aware of how important it was to stay hidden. Still, I couldn’t help looking around every chance I got. The scenery was eerily beautiful and totally unlike anything I’d ever seen in Oz.

Nox caught my eye and I leaned over to him.

“Are you sure it was real?” he asked.

“She’s alive. And they’re winning.”

Nox leaned into my shoulder. “I hate her sometimes. Most of the time. But I want her to be in the world so I can keep hating her until I can’t anymore. Does that make sense?”

I nodded. “I could have said the same thing about my mother for most of my life.”

“But not now?”

“She’s better. She’s trying. It doesn’t erase the years when she was so messed up. And it doesn’t mean it won’t happen again. But I don’t hate her today.”

The boat shifted suddenly, knocking me into him. Before I could right myself, Nox pulled me closer and kissed me. It wasn’t like our other kisses. It was deeper and needier. I left myself fall into it, blocking out our surroundings if just for a moment.

Lang cleared her throat and we broke apart.

“We’re getting close now. It’s time for me to change.” She turned away from us and I saw the silver choker glow brightly for an instant. Lang faced us again, and I gasped. She now wore the face—or was it the head?—of a homely old woman. Her clothes had been replaced by a nondescript coverall made of unremarkable gray-green fabric. She looked like a workman borrowing her boss’s fancy boat to run an errand.

Which was exactly the point, I realized. Lang was turning out to be a master of disguise.

“So some of the rumor is true,” I said grimly.

She shrugged. “I don’t actually kill people and take off their heads. With magic I’m able to ‘borrow’ other people.” Madison looked green, as though she might hurl over the side of the boat at any minute.

“Does everyone in Ev live underground?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“Some of the farmers keep surface settlements,” Lang said. I thought of the sad, shabby villages we’d passed on the way to her palace. “Most people work as slave labor in the Nome King’s jewel mines and forges.”

“Slaves?” Nox asked. Lang gave him a sharp look.

“We’re not as enlightened here as you are in Oz,” she said sarcastically. I thought of seeing the Munchkins mining for magic when I first landed in Oz.

“Dorothy’s Oz isn’t exactly what I’d call enlightened,” I said. “What about the Wheelers?” I asked, grimacing at the memory of the awful creatures who’d so cavalierly borne us across the desert.

“They serve a purpose,” she said. “They keep people afraid of me.”

“By terrorizing the farms around your palace?” Nox asked drily.

She bristled. “The Wheelers are the only creatures of Ev that are surface-bound. They’re easy enough to escape in the underground tunnels; they never go belowground. And they make good guardians, if unpredictable ones.”

“But they were ready to burn people’s villages on the way,” Madison said. “And they wanted to hurt us.”

“They know their place,” Lang said curtly. “They would never dare contradict my orders. And as for the villages . . .” She shrugged. “A few casualties are unavoidable in service to the larger cause. I learned that from the best, after all.”

She shot Nox a bitter look. Something like pain flashed across his face and was gone so fast I wondered if I’d seen it at all. I had to know their history or it was going to drive me out of my mind, but I’d have to wait until I could talk to Nox alone. It was anyone’s guess when that might be.

Lang was matter-of-fact about the extreme poverty, which was obvious all around us, despite the beautifully carved tunnels decorated with jeweled murals and elaborate dragon boats. I thought about Dusty Acres as we floated by the tiny structures that passed for homes along the river’s banks. Injustice seemed like a way of life here. I wondered if Lang had always been so hardened to it, or if something had happened to her when she was part of the Order that had made her into this ruthless, pragmatic double agent. Perhaps that was the point of all the different faces she wore—she didn’t want to remain as one person.

Everything I’d seen and done, all the suffering I’d witnessed, starting with my very first hour in Oz—I’d thought I’d hardened myself to it, just the way she had. That had become clear when I’d been explaining things to Madison earlier. I’d had to, or else I’d have lost my mind. I’d had to fight to kill without regretting the death I left behind me. So did Nox.

And ultimately, so did Dorothy.

But Dorothy had taken it a step further from the very beginning. She wasn’t fighting injustice—she was creating it, ever since she’d returned to Oz. The first time she’d come to Oz, she’d been like me. She’d just tried to help her friends and keep them safe. But when she came back, she’d killed and tortured people for fun. She’d made war into a hobby. She’d enslaved her subjects and warped them into her soldiers. Something had happened to make her that way. Something had turned her from a girl like me into the monster she’d become. Whatever that thing was, it was the key. I knew it. That was what I had to find out if I wanted to end her power forever without killing her. If I wanted to use compassion—but still win. I’d stopped short of killing her directly, so I knew I was different.