But worst of all, their faces were human—almost. Their skin was leathery and wrinkled, and most of them had terrible scars or open wounds crisscrossing their faces like an insane road map of pain. Their hair was matted. They held dirty, rusty knives in their teeth and jabbed forward with their jaws, thrusting the weapons at us and herding us into a tight bunch. They formed a whirling circle around us—but they didn’t touch us. Madison covered her nose and mouth against the stench.

“Stop!” One of the Wheelers called out to the others in a deep, scratchy voice that made me think of an old man who’d spent his entire life chain-smoking and chugging hard liquor. Immediately the Wheelers screeched to a halt.

The Wheeler who had spoken creaked closer and stared at me. Even though he wasn’t carrying a weapon in his teeth like the others, he managed to be even scarier. His face was deeply tanned and covered with a network of old scars. One eye was missing, the socket a mess of bulging scar tissue. His hair hung in lank strands braided with beads and pieces of metal and chunks of bone. He stared at me with his good eye, which was a crazy, piercing blue, and then he smiled, and I saw why he didn’t need a knife: his teeth were filed into razor-sharp points.

I heard Madison breathe in hard next to me, but she didn’t make a noise. I felt weirdly proud of her.

“Welcome to Ev, honored guests,” the Wheeler sneered. His voice sounded like tin cans being dragged behind an old car. “Princess Langwidere requests your most esteem presence at her palace.”

At the word esteem the other Wheelers began to snicker. “Esteem! Esteem! Princess call guests esteem!” one of them squealed, and the others burst into awful, screeching giggles that sent chills running down my spine.

Langwidere? What kind of name was that—and who on earth was she? Next to me, Nox looked a shade paler. “That’s not good,” he said in my ear.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know anything about these Wheelers, but I definitely have heard of Langwidere. And everything I’ve heard is . . . bad.”

He’d spoken quietly, but the Wheelers overheard him anyway. At his words, they hooted and shrieked with laughter. “Little flesh-foot denies his honor!” one of them howled, sending the others into hysterical giggles again.

“Look, knock it off. “Madison stepped forward. Her voice was clear and loud and somehow, even though I knew she must be terrified, she seemed confident. Most of the Wheelers kept laughing but a few stopped and looked at her.

“Are you going to kill us? Because if you aren’t, we have business to take care of, so maybe you can leave us alone and get out of here. Right?” She looked at Nox, whose mouth was open in astonishment. “Right?” she said again.

“Uh, right.” Nox closed his mouth and looked serious. “Exactly. Yes, what she said.”

The Wheelers’ laughter died down into the occasional giggle. The leader peered at us again, his beady good eye squinting. A smile played over his cracked lips and he chuckled to himself. “A spicy little flesh-foot!” he cackled, staring at Madison. He creaked forward until his face was inches away from hers but she didn’t flinch. He opened his mouth and screamed with laughter.

Even from where I was standing I nearly gagged at the rank, foul stench of his breath. Bits of rotting meat were caught in his jagged teeth. But Madison didn’t back down.

“Cool, so you’re not going to kill us, am I right?” she said. “Since we’re not dead yet, and you guys are just dicking around. How about you let us go then?”

“Princess says to bring you to her unharmed,” the Wheeler admitted reluctantly. He was clearly unhappy about those instructions.

“Princess didn’t say unharmed! Princess said ‘in one piece’! Could be harmed but still one piece!” one of the other Wheelers broke in excitedly, squeaking back and forth on his wheels. The leader cocked his head, considering, and then shook his head no, sending his dirty braids flying.

“You want to argue with Princess, your problem,” he said. The other Wheeler abruptly stopped moving and looked alarmed.

“Not arguing with Princess,” he said quickly. “Wouldn’t, wouldn’t.”

“We take you to her now,” the lead Wheeler said to us.

“We don’t want to go with you,” Madison said. At that, the Wheelers screeched with laughter again.

“Wants to argue with Princess!” they yelled. “Wants to argue! Little flesh-foot says no to Princess!”

“You don’t choose,” the Wheelers’ leader said to Madison. He lunged forward so fast that she didn’t even have time to scream, fastening his serrated teeth in her arm and dragging her toward the nearest Wheeler, who bent down on his elbows. The leader half dragged, half threw Madison on his back and he reared up again with Madison clutching frantically to his embroidered jacket. Blood seamed her shirtsleeve and her face was white and terrified.

“Now you,” the leader said to me, his teeth red with Madison’s blood. I swallowed hard as another of the Wheelers bent in front of me. The leader bared his teeth and snapped at me as I clambered awkwardly onto the Wheeler’s back. Next to me, Nox was doing the same. Up close, the Wheeler smelled even worse. And when I looked down, I saw fleas crawling in his dirty, ragged clothes. I closed my eyes, willing myself not to throw up.

“Now we go,” the leader said, and the Wheelers lurched forward across the barren earth.

I’d had a lot of bad journeys in Oz, but riding a Wheeler across the desert definitely took the prize for Most Awful Form of Transportation of All Time. The hot, merciless sun beat down on my back, sucking all the moisture out of my body. The Wheeler’s jagged wheels made his gait jolting and uneven, and although I was exhausted, I had to struggle every minute of the ride to cling to his filthy, bony back. I managed to tear off a strip of fabric from the bottom of my dress and toss it to Madison for her wound. She probably needed some kind of shot to ensure it wouldn’t get infected but this was the best I could do for now.

As the sun rose higher, the smell got worse. Every time I glanced over at Madison, she looked more and more as though she was about to pass out. Even Nox was turning a distinct shade of sickly green.

The landscape around us wasn’t much better. Mostly it was deserted, but here and there we passed tiny villages that looked even worse than I felt: houses with collapsing roofs and crumbling walls, farm animals with ribs that poked horribly out of their fly-dotted hides, poking dispiritedly along the sun-bleached, rocky ground in vain search of food. As we creaked and rumbled by, terrified faces appeared briefly in broken-paned windows and then disappeared again as everyone we passed hid from the Wheelers.

Once, one of the Wheelers broke off from our group, speeding toward a village with a howl of glee, but the leader sharply called him back and he returned reluctantly, still brandishing his knife in his teeth. The leader bit him hard on the ear and he yelped with pain.

“We follow Princess orders!” the leader snarled. “No play today. Serious business.” The other Wheeler shot him a murderous look but obeyed. I didn’t want to think about what the Wheelers considered “play.” The horror in the faces of the people we passed gave me a pretty good idea.

Nox looked at Madison, who was inspecting the bloody cloth around her arm.