Chapter 1
King Marillot and Queen Baxiana of the Arjikiis were, quite frankly, exhausted. Their eight year old son, Yasho, regarded the castle of Ardron Iir as his own personal playground and laboratory, with his various toys and "science experiments" strewn all over the place. And the royal couple's elder son, Fiyero, was already becoming a juvenile delinquent at the age of eleven: putting pins on teachers' chairs, putting snakes on girls' desks … In fact, he had just gotten expelled from a boarding school in the Shale Shallows for almost burning down the school cafeteria while roasting candy clouds one night with his friends. But Marillot and Baxiana loved their firstborn son and heir very much, and were worried that a stern punishment would only lead to more bad behavior. So instead, they decided to take both boys to the family's other castle, Kiamo Ko, for the summer.
Neither Fiyero nor Yasho had ever been to Kiamo Ko, and Marillot and Baxiana hadn't been there since the death and funeral of Marillot's father many years before. It had used to be the main home of the Arjiki royal family, but Marillot's great grandfather had taken a serious dislike to the place, and it was reduced to a vacation home. Nevertheless, on the carriage ride there, both young princes were literally squirming with anticipation.
"Daddy, is there baking powder and vinegar in the kitchen?" Yasho asked excitedly. "I wanna make a chemical reaction!"
"I think that can be arranged," Marillot said with a small chuckle. "If we don't have any, we can send for some."
Yasho beamed, and was very happy until Fiyero whispered in his ear, "You know, Yash, I bet there are spooks in Kiamo Ko. And I bet Grandpa's ghost still haunts the royal chambers, waiting till you're alone so he can pop out and say, 'BOO!'"
Yasho shrieked, and Baxiana said gently but reproachfully, "Fiyero! Don't scare your brother."
"Aw, Mom, I was just having a little fun," Fiyero whined defensively. And he really was. Fiyero cared for his brother so much that later in his life when he first saw his college crush taking care of her sister, it caused him a twinge of pain. He admired Yasho for his intelligence, as he believed that he himself possessed none, and he would have given his younger brother the claim to the Arjiki throne the moment Yasho asked.
The royal family arrived at Kiamo Ko that evening, and their cook made a fine dinner for them, after which all four of them retired to bed. The next day, it was raining, but Fiyero still insisted on taking his horse, Monu, out for a ride around the castle. Yasho stayed inside and spent most of the day in the kitchen, experimenting with all the spices and seeing what tasty combinations he could make. At the end of the day, Yasho was tired and content. Fiyero was tired and sick.
Over the next few days, Fiyero's cold was so severe, it landed him in bed. To be sure, he was far from death's door, and Marillot and Baxiana secretly thought that this served him right. Nature was punishing their son for them. But for Yasho, who didn't really care about what a delinquent his brother was, Fiyero's cold meant the loss of a playmate. The Tigulaar brothers weren't exactly inseparable, but they did enjoy each other's company, so when Fiyero was away at boarding school, or in this case, sick, it caused Yasho a significant amount of boredom. So, on about the third day of Fiyero's cold, Yasho snuck into his older brother's room.
"Fiyero?" Yasho asked hesitantly. "You awake?"
"Yeah," Fiyero answered hoarsely. "Come on in. How'd you get past Mom and Dad?"
"They're having tea in the Solar. They're talking about some political crap." The brothers shared a grin; Fiyero had taught Yasho that word. Then, Yasho thought to show Fiyero his latest contraption; a little cart made entirely with paper and drinking pipes. "I made this yesterday," he declared proudly. "'Cause you know the cart Mom and Dad got me broke last year, so I made my own!"
Fiyero carefully took the cart in his hand. "Wow. You made this all by yourself, with no help at all?"
Yasho nodded enthusiastically.
"You're a genius, bro. Except your cart is missing one thing."
"What's that?"
"Why, your name, of course!" Fiyero said in the loudest voice he could manage. "We gotta show off that you, Yasho Tigulaar, invented this thing." He grabbed a pen from his bedside table. "'Yasho Tigulaar.' There we go. And, don't you also need a way to pull your cart? Here, one of the servants left this string here for no reason." Fiyero punched a hole through the paper with his fingernail, threaded the string through, and tied a knot. "There. The Yasho Cart is ready to go. And hey, I have an idea!"
"What?" Yasho asked eagerly.
"Why don't you go around the castle and collect things in your cart? Then you can come back here and we can look at them together!"
"That sounds fun! I'll be back soon!" Fiyero smiled sleepily as his brother energetically ran out of the room. A nap until Yasho got back was in order …
Yasho ran through the halls of Kiamo Ko, thrillified that his cart could now go as fast as he could. He exited the royal apartments, and found himself in the library, where he came across an unusually tiny book that he could fit into his hand. Into the cart it went. He collected a ball from the billiard room, and a rock that had chipped off from the walls in the castle chapel. It was only when he neared the entrance to the dungeons that he remembered Fiyero's warning about their grandfather's ghost. What if it was lurking somewhere in the castle? Would it pop out and scare him? No, Grandpa Eto had been a nice man; he wouldn't do that.
Thinking about all this, Yasho didn't realize that he was standing on a little ramp, so he absentmindedly let go of the string. The cart rolled down the ramp, stopping at the door to the dungeons. But before Yasho could even move to get it, the door creaked open, and a white gloved hand reached down and grabbed the cart. The door opened wider to reveal a clown, much like the clowns Yasho had seen at a circus in the Emerald City, with a red nose, a painted white face, a colorful but faded suit, and balding red hair. It was only the clown's glowing yellow eyes that seemed strange to Yasho.
"Hiya, Yasho," the clown said. "What a nice cart! Would you like it back?"
"W-Who are you?" Yasho asked nervously. "My dad says I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."
"Well then, let's introduce ourselves, and be strangers no more. Your Highness, Prince Yasho Tigulaar of the Arjikiis, I am Pennywise, Pennywise the Dancing Clown! It's my duty to entertain all future kings and queens of the Arjikis." Yasho noticed that the clown's eyes were blue now. Had they really been yellow before?
"Well, I'm not a future king," Yasho said somewhat ruefully. "My big brother Fiyero is next in line."
Pennywise chuckled. "Oh, but he doesn't want it, does he? Noo! But you do! You're going to be king! King Yasho of the Arjikiis! How does that sound?"
"It sounds cool," Yasho admitted with a giggle. "But I'm not gonna be king for awhile anyway. I'm just a kid."
"True," Pennywise said. "So why don't we have some fun now? You know, the dungeons aren't as grim as you might think. I've got candyfloss and rides and all sorts of surprises down here! And balloons too!"
"Do they float?"
"Oh, yes! They float! And you'll float too, Yasho!" But as soon as Yasho entered the dungeons, the clown's face changed into the most monstrous thing Yasho had seen in his life, and then Yasho saw no more.
The Arjikii royal family left, grieving and panicked, the next day. No one except some sentries lived in Kiamo Ko again, until twelve years later, when Elphaba Thropp, after losing everything and everyone she loved, made it her home.