Some part of me had even wanted it. Maybe. I decided, for now, to just not think about that.

Standing up, I still felt a little unsteady on my feet from the day before, but the sleep had done me good and the soreness in my arms and legs was mostly gone.

Last night, I’d been too tired to really examine our quarters, but now I had a chance to look around. There really wasn’t a lot to see: I spotted a folding screen in the corner, the kind people coyly stepped behind in old movies to change. A large wooden bowl sat on a wooden pedestal by the window. It was filled with bubbling water, and a few large, pink blossoms floated on the surface. I walked over and splashed the water across my face gratefully. It tingled in a pleasant way against my skin before evaporating.

I was glad that there was no mirror here—I didn’t want to know how terrible I looked. Sure, I’d taken a quick dip in a stream yesterday when we’d been trudging through the forest with the monkeys, just to get the Lion’s blood off me, but I had a feeling that I was still a total wreck. How could I not be? Before last night, I hadn’t slept since the night before Dorothy’s big party.

Still, the water was refreshing, with a vaguely perfumed smell, and it felt good to wash up. I cupped another handful and pulled it through my hair, feeling days’ worth of dirt and grime coming off on my hands.

“So what the hell do we do next?” I found myself asking aloud. I wasn’t sure if I was talking to Ozma or to myself. I wasn’t expecting Ozma to be paying attention or to understand what I was saying, but at least she was someone to talk to. Look, I’d grown up with a mom who was on another planet most of the time, so I was used to having conversations with people who weren’t really listening. It was no big deal.

Anyway, after everything Ozma and I had been through together, I was starting to feel weirdly close to her. No, she probably wasn’t the friend I would have chosen for myself, but she was something. And with Star gone and Nox missing, friends were in short supply these days.

“We can’t stay here forever,” I said, taking advantage of her willingness to at least pretend to listen. “But I don’t know where to go next either. Do we go back to the city? Do we look for Dorothy? Do I try to find the Scarecrow so I can cut out his brains?” I shuddered a little at the thought of that one. I knew I had to do it eventually, but I really didn’t feel like it. “Every time I turn around, someone’s telling me to do something different; every time I sit down to think, there’s another mystery that I can’t solve. I just feel stuck.”

Ozma looked at me expectantly, and suddenly I found myself saying the thing I hadn’t even admitted to myself.

“I have to find Nox,” I said. “I know it makes no sense—he’s the last one I should be worrying about. But he’s the only one I trust.”

That’s the thing about talking to someone you’re not sure is really listening. Sometimes you end up saying stuff you don’t know you mean until it just comes spilling out.

But Ozma didn’t look surprised. Instead, she gave me a sly wink. “Nox Nox!” Ozma said.

Something about the way she said it piqued my interest. And after all, I was starting to think that maybe I was underestimating her. She had seemed to know that the magic was coming back to Oz. She had known the Lion was coming for us. Underneath all her idiotic chatter, it was becoming clear that she had some hidden depths.

“What about him?” I asked. Ozma just rolled her eyes and scowled at me like I was the dumbest person in the world. “Who’s there?” she said in frustration.

My shoulders drooped and I let out a groan, suddenly realizing exactly how much I’d hoped she’d been about to say something that was actually useful. “Whatever.” I scooped the filthy dress I’d discarded the night before up from the floor, and I was just about to put it on when I noticed that the monkeys had left me a clean outfit, neatly folded on a table by the door. Maybe Queen Lulu liked me more than she had let on, but more likely, she just didn’t want me walking around her village looking like a bum.

Thankfully, considering the monkeys’ normal fashion sense, they had left me a fairly sensible outfit. Of course, when I say sensible, I mean relatively speaking. As I went through the pile beside the bed, I discovered that they had decided to outfit me in a faded pink T-shirt that read Kiss My Grits! in chartreuse script across the chest and a pair of cut-off denim short shorts. Okay, it wasn’t quite my style, but at least my hosts hadn’t decided I’d look stunning in a nun’s habit or an oversize baby’s onesie and a pacifier.

Just having a fresh shirt was almost good enough for me, but it wasn’t the best part. When I got to the bottom of the stack, I almost jumped for joy. Of all the wondrous things I’d encountered in Oz, this might have been the most miraculous of all: a pair of clean underwear. I didn’t even care that they were leopard-print granny panties—I still felt like I’d won the lottery as I stepped behind the screen in the corner to put them on.

“How stupid am I?” I asked myself aloud as I changed. I was still thinking about Nox. “How is it possible that I’m here in the middle of a magical war, supposedly saving the world—or the kingdom, or whatever I’m supposedly saving—and all I can think about is some dumb boy? Tracking him down should be the last thing on my mind.”

I stepped out from behind the screen to find Ozma regarding me with amusement.

“What?” I asked indignantly. “You don’t like my outfit? Look, not everyone can pull off the nightgown and tiara look as well as you can, okay?”