Free The Wizard Returns by Danielle Paige Page A

work in Oz? Maybe he didn’t even need to work, if he was such a powerful magician. He could get a nice set of robes and a wand, maybe teach himself to fly. He could visit Iris and the monkeys, impress them with his powers. Perhaps Queen Lulu would award him some kind of honorary decree. He’d be esteemed above all other humans, loved—and maybe feared, just a little—by all.
    Buoyed by this cheerful thought, he turned around to leave. As he took the first step, there was a powerful whoosh and hundreds of torches flared to life all around him, nearly blinding him. He threw one arm over his eyes and yelped in surprise.
    â€œAt last,” said a cool, dry, sardonic voice behind him. “Wehave the immeasurable honor, brethren, of meeting the Wonderful Wizard of Oz.”
    Hex turned around very, very slowly, blinking until his eyes adjusted to the light’s dazzle. The rough stone hallway was gone: he was standing in an immense, palatial room lit by huge crystal chandeliers; the light was not so extraordinarily bright after all, but had just seemed so in contrast to the dim hallway. The room was luxuriously appointed; the walls were draped in black velvet, and the floor was covered with rich, tapestried carpets piled three or four deep. And it was full of people. They stared at him curiously from where they reclined against carelessly stacked overstuffed velvet pillows or slouched in ornately carved armchairs that rested next to enameled tables bearing platters of glossy, dark fruits he didn’t recognize. They were all alarmingly beautiful, but eerily identical, with bone-pale skin and hair a shade whiter. They were dressed alike in black clothes that blended into the walls so that their cruel, fox-like faces seemed to float, disembodied, in the darkness. The nearest of them shifted in his chair and there was something inhuman about the way he moved, almost as if he was double-jointed. At the center of the room there was a flat black pool, perfectly round and still, whose waters reflected nothing but instead seemed to absorb the light like a black hole.
    There was no mistaking the speaker, who lounged regally in a throne-like chair that was bigger and more elaborate than all the other furniture in the room. Carved out of some dense, shiny black stone, it was studded with blood-colored rubies thatgleamed dully in the soft light of the chandeliers. Its occupant was even paler than the other people in the room, with long, sleek white hair that spilled down his shoulders and over the rich black robes he wore. One long, leather-clad leg was slung over the throne’s armrest, and he kicked idly with one booted foot against its side. A long black cigarette burned between the first and second knuckles of his fingers; he flicked ash disdainfully on the carpet before taking a long, decadent drag. His expression was one of utter, all-consuming boredom, but his black eyes glittered dangerously.
    Hex coughed, trying not to stare around him. “You seem to know who I am,” he said cautiously, “but I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”
    The man threw his head back and laughed. “It speaks, brethren!” he chortled, and all around him the other people in the room tittered. Hex flushed an embarrassed red. “Oh come now, Wizard, don’t be so easily flustered,” the man said, still laughing. “There was a time when all of us here were under your estimable thumb, was there not? We were simply terrified of your incredible powers.” At this, everyone around him only laughed harder. Hex scowled and balled his hands into fists, determined not to let these strange people get the best of him.
    â€œAh, my dear Wizard, I apologize,” the man said, still chuckling. “Come forward, and let me greet you properly. Welcome to the Kingdom of the Fairies.”
    As he skirted the pool, Hex saw that the fairy’s black cloak was actually a pair of tightly folded