I didn’t see Madison. I could only hope that she was doing what she was supposed to—staying out of sight, and out of harm’s way.

A noise like a clap of thunder suddenly shook the cathedral-like room. The music cut out and the guests immediately fell silent, apprehension spreading across their faces. A fissure in the wall on the far side of the room split open, revealing a yawning black doorway through which more guards carried an immense ruby and obsidian throne. The Nome King lounged in the throne, one black-clad leg thrown over the armrest and dangling lazily. He wore a spiky iron crown on his bald head and a black leather suit with no shirt, the jacket unbuttoned and revealing his pale, hairless torso. Around his neck, a single enormous ruby dangled from a thick iron chain. His long silver nails, filed to sharp tips, matched his pointy-toed black boots that were tipped with shining steel. I took special note of the huge, evil-looking knife strapped to his belt, and shuddered.

The guards set his throne down on the raised dais and immediately prostrated themselves, touching their foreheads to the floor. The guests followed suit, throwing themselves to the ground frantically so as not to be the last person left standing. I quickly did the same.

“Greetings, my loyal and devoted subjects,” the Nome King said. Though he didn’t raise his voice, it carried easily across the huge room. He put the slightest sneer into “loyal,” like he knew most of his subjects were no such thing. They weren’t loyal—they were just terrified of him. “Thank you all for attending my little party.” As if they’d had any other choice, I thought. “Please, treasured peers of the realm, do not bow before your king,” he added. No one moved. No one wanted to be the first to rise.

“Up, up,” the Nome King said impatiently, and at that his guests scrambled to their feet. He looked even more pleased with himself than usual, and that was saying a lot. It wasn’t until he looked over his shoulder that I realized there was a figure standing in the shadows behind him. A figure that, upon his glance, now stepped forward.

I sucked in a breath and took a step back, trying to stay out of sight behind the giant, feathered hat of a woman standing in front of me.

Dorothy. Her skin was pale and flushed from the heat under her elaborate, jeweled mask. She had chosen an appropriate costume: she was dressed as a serpent in a slinky, skintight red dress, encrusted with thousands of tiny red sequins that created the illusion of scales. It was cinched tightly at her tiny waist and then flared out in sinuous curves over her hips and long legs. Her red heels glittered on her feet.

“Dearly beloved,” the Nome King began. “We are gathered here today to . . . oh, wait, I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I?” The Nome King gave a sly, fey giggle and nervous laughter rippled outward among his confused subjects, none of whom understood what was funny but all of whom were eager to assure him they were in on his private joke. “That part comes later. I’m sure you’re all wondering why you’re here. Other than to drink my liquor and eat my food.” He laughed again. “But I have wonderful news for you. As you all surely know, the kingdom of Oz has long been a thorn in our royal side. While Ev withers and its crops fail, Oz prospers. Instead of offering us their assistance, the citizens of Oz live in oblivious selfishness.” Dorothy cleared her throat. The Nome King’s bony hands tightened into fists.

“Today,” he continued, “all of that will change. For today marks the day that Oz and Ev will be united as one. Two kingdoms, once sundered, brought together in peace and prosperity, governed by the most powerful and benevolent ruler either country has ever known.” Next to him, Dorothy stiffened. If I’d caught his misstep, I knew she had, too. One ruler. Not two.

It wasn’t hard to guess what that meant.

“All of you have the honor of witnessing the greatest moment in Ev’s history,” the Nome King continued, not realizing the mistake he’d just made.

He beckoned for Dorothy, who walked daintily up to the Nome King’s throne, where he rose to his feet and clasped her hand in his and raised them both over his head for the crowd.

“My fellow citizens of Ev,” the Nome King intoned, “prepare yourselves for—”

Dorothy cleared her throat again, more significantly this time, and the Nome King stopped, looking at her in puzzlement. If she suspected, like I did, that he was planning on sacrificing her right here, in front of the entire crowd, she didn’t look too worried about it.

Instinctively I looked at her shoes again and felt an answering throb in my boots.

It dawned on me. Of course, I thought. She can use them. That bitch always had something up her sleeve, didn’t she?

Now that I was looking for it, I could see the haze of magic pulsing around her, as if the shoes were even stronger now that they’d been returned to the land they came from. She surveyed the crowd with icy grandeur, one hand perched on the back of the Nome King’s throne. A strange little creature huddled at her feet, costumed as a small shrub.

“My bride is correct to remind me of why we are here,” the Nome King said finally. “Before the ceremony begins, we must celebrate this momentous occasion!” A rictus grin spread across his face. “Let us dance and be merry!” he crowed, clapping his hands.

The woman next to me shifted nervously on her feet. Other guests exchanged brief, uncertain glances.

“I said dance!” the Nome King screamed. “Be merry!”

He must have taken a page from Dorothy’s book. The guests stood, stricken, and then one by one they began to shuffle their feet back and forth. They looked like animated corpses with their weird, sad, silent, shambling dance. Their hands and arms flapped aimlessly. Without music or rhythm to follow, they kicked randomly into the air, or spun around in place, their eyes filled with fear.

In a hidden corner I hadn’t noticed, a ragtag orchestra of Munchkin musicians suddenly struck up a jerky, tuneless waltz. Now everyone was dancing their off-kilter, graceless dance, spasming back and forth like zombies at the world’s saddest disco. The musicians looked just as awful. One of them, I saw, had his ankles chained together. Another was missing an ear; a third had a red-stained bandage wrapped around his chest.

I looked away. I couldn’t help them. I could only do what we’d come here for: finish Dorothy and defeat the Nome King, once and for all.

Dorothy threw her head back with a jubilant grin, keeping time to the beat as if she truly believed everyone was having the time of their lives. I lurched back and forth with everyone around me so as not to draw attention to myself, but unlike the others, whose movements were now growing increasingly frenzied, I was careful to conserve my energy.

Near me, they were already starting to flag. Half starved, exhausted, and terrified, they couldn’t keep up the pace. While the Nome King clapped along to the horrible music and Dorothy cheerfully tapped her foot and shimmied her hips, more than one person around me collapsed to the ground. As soon as they fell, the Diggers descended on them, dragging their inert bodies out of the ballroom.

Once they were outside, I heard their screams over the music.

It took everything I had not to run out there. To rescue them. Whatever was happening to them was almost too horrible to contemplate—but I knew that helping them wouldn’t do anyone in the room any good unless Nox, Madison, Lang, and I could first free them from the Nome King’s sick little games forever. So I shut my ears against the terrible cries even as I felt bile building in the pit of my stomach.