Page 30 of Ozma

Jack climbed up beside Ozma to begin their journey, gnawing his bottom lip. He let her navigate the way to the sea. The forest he knew so well gave way to sparser trees with tall, umbrella-like leaves, and the dirt road lightened to white clay. Homes were made from brick with thatched roofs. Instead of lush grass, it grew tall and wispy with tiny tufts at the top of each blade.

Every turn Ozma made was done with a sureness he couldn’t begin to grasp. If she was in the mirror, and then some dark place, she would have no idea where to go. He already knew the mirror was a lie because she walked around like she owned every inch of the farm, but what about the dark place?

Pain shot through his chest. If there was no dark place, where had Ozma been the last two years? Because Tip wouldn’t know his way around Loland either. Not when he’d been stuck on the farm. So, if the dark place was a lie, why had she waited to come back? Was it because of Mombi? Or was it because she hadn’t wanted to see Jack? Warmth flooded over him, a mixture of fear and embarrassment. He’d longed for Tip for two years … but when he’d returned as Ozma, there were only lies. Lies about who she really was. Lies about where she’d been. His mind twisted and twisted around itself, tying complicated knots of nerves.

“Do you want to stop and stretch your legs?” Ozma asked quietly as the sun sank below the tree line, breaking the silence between them.

Jack shook his head.

“And to eat?” Her voice became even more uncertain.

“I’m not hungry,” Jack told her coolly.

She swallowed audibly. “We should give the stag a rest, at least. There are a few more hours before we reach the sea.”

And how would you know?Jack crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe we should camp here for the night.”

“Here?” Ozma scoured the area. There were plenty of places to steer the wagon off the road. Though the trees wouldn’t offer any coverage, they hadn’t seen another traveler all day. It seemed safe enough.

“Why not?” he asked. “You can sleep in the back of the wagon.”Not we.

“Me?” Both her brows lifted. “Where will you sleep?”

“Out here.” He motioned to thin woodland. The ground was flat, the dirt dry and packed, with leaves scattered about. It would’ve been preferrable to sleep inside the wagon, but there was no way he could rest being so close to Ozma.

She hesitated. “We should keep going. There will probably be somewhere nearer to the port so we can catch the first ship to Orkland.”

“Why does it have to be the first ship?” he asked in a flat voice. They had no solid plan of attack to defeat the Wizard, which sat uneasy with Jack. Neither of them had fighting skills—at least, that he knew of—and Ozma had no magic. Unless that was a lie too. His magic could grow things, but it was still highly untested. Killing one undine didn’t make him battle-ready. It felt more like they’d gotten lucky with Mombi than anything, and the Wizard wasn’t one to be messed with. Jack hadn’t seen him in two years, but before that the mortal had aged over the time he visited the farm, grown frail and crazed from his fruit addiction. Yet still, he exuded power. The hair on Jack’s arms always stood on end when he visited and the sense of unease lingered long after he left.

“I suppose it doesn’t,” Ozma conceded. “But you want to visit the sea.”

Jack quirked a brow. “Do I?”Keep calm.The only one who knew about his desire to set eyes on the sea was Tip. “Maybe I hate water.”

Ozma blushed and gave him a shy smile as she steered their wagon onto a flat, grassy area beside the road. “I just assumed… Since you’ve been on the farm your entire life.”

Jack studied her carefully, desperate to see some physical sign that Ozma and Tip were the same fae. Nothing. Only those fucking blue eyes he loved so much. “I gave up wanting anything a long time ago.”

Ozma’s smile fell. “Don’t say that.”

“Tell me”—he leaned closer and closer, then lifted her chin—“what do you think is left for me, then?”

Her eyes dropped to his mouth as she spoke. “You have your whole life ahead of—”

Jack snorted, releasing her face. “Don’t bother, Blossom. Unless you can tell me Tip is still alive…”

Take the bait.

Take. It.

Ozma opened and shut her mouth. “I’ll get us something to eat from the back,” she said, sounding defeated.

Jack hung his head as she climbed down from the seat beside him. Was he wrong? Was it wishful thinking? He squeezed his eyes shut before they could threaten him with tears. There was no explanation other than Ozma being Tip.

I’m not wrong.

But why was she still lying to him?

Chapter Thirteen

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