Author's note: Sorry this took so long…I have attention span issues. The story is getting fleshed out overall, but it still may be awhile between posts. Not sure how I feel about this chapter…
The beaded curtain that parted to reveal the stuffy, gaudy room was a shimmering sort of emerald green. The walls were of the sage variety, as far as she could tell from the few places that lacked talismans or tacky decorations, which also seemed to be green in nature. Of course, their tendency towards the monochromatic might have been primarily a result of the greenish haze that filled the room. It smelled of incense. Rather, it simultaneously smelled of many different types of incense rather than one specific sort.
DG loosed a hard, sinus-scraping sneeze that made her eardrums pop and regretted her lack of handkerchiefs or disposable sleeves. As she began to panic over her embarrassing and rather disgusting predicament, a white, immaculate piece of linen was thrust at her.
"Health," its owner muttered the traditional response as if it were the last thing he wished her.
Gee, thanks, DG thought sarcastically, biting her tongue and accepting the hanky despite the gruffness of its source. He was obviously in a mood. Whether it was because of the disturbing dreams, the foul incense, the fact that this was the sixth such place they had visited, or the creature sitting in a rather aloof manner for a woman whose head was wrapped in one too many layers of jade silk turban, DG wasn't certain. She just knew to bite her sardonic tongue and stay out of his way when the man got like this.
"I will read the princess," the sallow looking face announced. For several reasons, DG glanced in the glowing verdant mirror on the nearest wall. Firstly, for vanity's sake she had to confirm that her own skin did not take on a tone reminiscent to that of landlubbers with a sudden, intense desire to experience the maritime fishing industry first hand. Secondly, she had used her magic to disguise her appearance as was her usual practice upon venturing out into a public very much aware of their reclaimed monarchy's appearance.
The 'soothsayer' had referred to her by her supposedly hidden title, causing DG alarm enough to check that the blonde with a little too much nose and not quite enough lip was still staring back from her reflection.
"Yes, I can see directly through your little illusion, my dear," the woman chuckled, one of those horrible, superior-to-thou laughs. DG caught her protector glaring at the clairvoyant. "A trick of the light. Not too impressive, but rather a lost art these days."
DG tried not to scowl at the condescending swollen gooseberry, instead forcing a smile as she accepted the bloated, clammy hand and sat opposite the brocade-covered table. It was almost certain that Cain was hovering in his most menacing manner, but if the sea foam sibyl was intimidated even an iota, she wasn't letting it show.
"What is it you wish to know? Future romances, whether your prince charming is on his way, perhaps?" she said airily, giving DG a wink.
"I want to know about the Cult of the Ozians," DG replied sternly, holding the woman's fervent eyes, making it clear that this was an order by a superior, not a silly girl to whom she could condescend. The ample face, too much face and not enough features, turned another shade more yellow at the declaration, but it didn't stop DG from adding, "And you can tell me all you know about Ozma."
"Oz-ma?" she repeated, obviously faking unfamiliarity with the inquiries put to her. All facade of composure had left the woman, who was no longer in control, queen of her own little green den.
"You can stop feigning ignorance right now," Cain growled, leaning in, one fist on the table between the crystal ball and the quavering radioactive blob. His other hand was free, was always free as DG had noted, in case he needed his gun or an available, quick punch. "We know you were a member of the Cult. We know you were a council member. Your friends sent us directly to you."
Bit of an exaggeration, Cain. DG thought, remembering the extremely sinuous goose-chase that had comprised the last two days.
"Well, whatever, whoever told you was lying," she responded. "You'd be better off trying Glinda over on Munchkin Way.
"Funny thing, Glinda said you'd say as much," Cain countered. "That you were always one to cut-and-run."
"Well, she's a liar, tin man," she countered. "And you're a fool."
"We'll see who the fool is when we get the information we're after and it points directly back to-"
"Threaten all you want. I don't know what you're after."
"Some soothsayer you are. I knew you were just a two-bit con."
"I can see quite a bit about you're twisted past, Mr. Wyatt Cain, enough to tell you that that winning personality of yours will secure you a lonely grave."
"Enough," DG cut through the back-and-forth between tin man and reluctant source without raising her voice. Instead she added an edge of force to it that she normally lacked by nature. She stared directly into the woman's eyes, refusing to release her to hide the truth and evade their questions further. "You will tell me what I wish to know or I will call in a Seer."
Honestly, the princess did not know whether she were bluffing or not, but only what the soothsayer believed was vital. A fat brownish tongue flicked out over the plump emerald painted lips before disappearing. The fat of her neck danced a little as she swallowed hard.
"All right," the reluctant mystic conceded, her accent changing with the drop of pretense.
...
The number of people in the street had doubled in the time they had spent in the soothsayer's den. If it were the Other Side, DG would've called it Rush Hour, except that instead of thousands of people crammed in cars, inhaling smog and stuck in traffic jams, swearing and eager to get home, there were carts of various goods and people bartering for deals. Actually, if she had to make a comparison, it definitely had more in common with medieval Middle Eastern marketplaces.
She bounded into the hub-bub, excited by the information they had recovered, pulling her tin man reluctantly along behind her. Massive crowds of people weren't his favourite thing, but she didn't let his agitation dampen her spirits.
"We should be able to get fresh horses and leave tonight," DG said animatedly, a new adventure stretching out before her eyes. And for once, there was a problem she had a chance at resolving...she hoped.
"We'll leave tomorrow morning," Cain corrected his overeager counterpart. "Provided that the Queen grants us permission."
"What?!" DG stopped dead in her tracks at the mention of her mother. Had it not been for the tin man's quick reflexes, she would've been run over by a fruit cart for her momentary lapse in diligence. Instead she found herself pulled into a corner that was too recessed to merit a steady flow of traffic.
"The princesses aren't allowed to leave palace grounds without the Queen's permission," he elucidated gruffly, refusing to look her in the face. And he was right to, for she began to grin widely despite the frustration she suffered over what she just heard.
"You rebel," she proclaimed. "We're not even supposed to be in the City are we?"
"Technically, no," Cain conceded, shifting uncomfortably at his failure to follow the Queen's orders being brought to light. "But it's only a few hours journey, and you'll be back before anyone notices you're gone."
"You mean my mother," DG said resentfully. "She wouldn't notice if I was missing for several days, if someone wasn't there to tell her."
"DG, that's not fair," Cain scolded, disliking the disrespect she showed for her mother, despite that he sometimes agreed with her assessments-not that he'd ever say so aloud. "She's a busy woman, but she loves you."
Sighing, DG conceded his point. "I know. It's just... I don't want to run this by her, you know? She's just going to think I'm going crazy from stress and confine me to my room or send me away or something."
"I'll be there to back you up, kid," Cain reassured, unsure why she thought her mother wouldn't believe her.
DG gave him a half smile, and let the conversation drop. She didn't especially want to tell him that his presence or seemingly random involvement in the situation would not be received well by her mother. It was as subtle as one would expect from her good breeding, but DG could see there was something about the tin man that rubbed the Queen the wrong way. Hopefully there would be time on their journey back to figure out a way around Cain's need to inform her mother of the situation.
For there was simply no way the present Queen was going to let her youngest daughter go off in search of the lost ancient Queen of OZ.
A/N: Oh, DG…avoiding and lying to her mother…