Hearing this condition imposed by the Nome King, Ozma became silent
and thoughtful, and all her friends looked at her uneasily.

“Don’t you do it!” exclaimed Dorothy. “If you guess wrong, you will
be enslaved yourself.”

“But I shall have eleven guesses,” answered Ozma. “Surely I ought to
guess one object in eleven correctly; and, if I do, I shall rescue one
of the royal family and be safe myself. Then the rest of you may
attempt it, and soon we shall free all those who are enslaved.”

“What if we fail?” enquired the Scarecrow. “I’d look nice as a piece
of bric-a-brac, wouldn’t I?”

“We must not fail!” cried Ozma, courageously. “Having come all this
distance to free these poor people, it would be weak and cowardly in
us to abandon the adventure. Therefore I will accept the Nome King’s
offer, and go at once into the royal palace.”

“Come along, then, my dear,” said the King, climbing down from his throne
with some difficulty, because he was so fat; “I’ll show you the way.”

He approached a wall of the cave and waved his hand. Instantly an
opening appeared, through which Ozma, after a smiling farewell to her
friends, boldly passed.

She found herself in a splendid hall that was more beautiful and grand
than anything she had ever beheld. The ceilings were composed of
great arches that rose far above her head, and all the walls and
floors were of polished marble exquisitely tinted in many colors.
Thick velvet carpets were on the floor and heavy silken draperies
covered the arches leading to the various rooms of the palace. The
furniture was made of rare old woods richly carved and covered with
delicate satins, and the entire palace was lighted by a mysterious
rosy glow that seemed to come from no particular place but flooded
each apartment with its soft and pleasing radiance.

Ozma passed from one room to another, greatly delighted by all she
saw. The lovely palace had no other occupant, for the Nome King had
left her at the entrance, which closed behind her, and in all the
magnificent rooms there appeared to be no other person.

Upon the mantels, and on many shelves and brackets and tables, were
clustered ornaments of every description, seemingly made out of all
sorts of metals, glass, china, stones and marbles. There were vases,
and figures of men and animals, and graven platters and bowls, and
mosaics of precious gems, and many other things. Pictures, too, were
on the walls, and the underground palace was quite a museum of rare
and curious and costly objects.

After her first hasty examination of the rooms Ozma began to wonder
which of all the numerous ornaments they contained were the
transformations of the royal family of Ev. There was nothing to guide
her, for everything seemed without a spark of life. So she must guess
blindly; and for the first time the girl came to realize how dangerous
was her task, and how likely she was to lose her own freedom in
striving to free others from the bondage of the Nome King. No wonder
the cunning monarch laughed good naturedly with his visitors, when he
knew how easily they might be entrapped.

But Ozma, having undertaken the venture, would not abandon it. She
looked at a silver candelabra that had ten branches, and thought:
“This may be the Queen of Ev and her ten children.” So she touched it
and uttered aloud the word “Ev,” as the Nome King had instructed her
to do when she guessed. But the candelabra remained as it was before.

Then she wandered into another room and touched a china lamb, thinking
it might be one of the children she sought. But again she was
unsuccessful. Three guesses; four guesses; five, six, seven, eight,
nine and ten she made, and still not one of them was right!

The girl shivered a little and grew pale even under the rosy light;
for now but one guess remained, and her own fate depended upon the result.

She resolved not to be hasty, and strolled through all the rooms once
more, gazing earnestly upon the various ornaments and trying to decide
which she would touch. Finally, in despair, she decided to leave it
entirely to chance. She faced the doorway of a room, shut her eyes
tightly, and then, thrusting aside the heavy draperies, she advanced
blindly with her right arm outstretched before her.

Slowly, softly she crept forward until her hand came in contact with an
object upon a small round table. She did not know what it was, but in
a low voice she pronounced the word “Ev.”

The rooms were quite empty of life after that. The Nome King had
gained a new ornament. For upon the edge of the table rested a pretty
grasshopper, that seemed to have been formed from a single emerald.
It was all that remained of Ozma of Oz.

In the throne room just beyond the palace the Nome King suddenly
looked up and smiled.

“Next!” he said, in his pleasant voice.

Dorothy, the Scarecrow, and the Tin Woodman, who had been sitting in
anxious silence, each gave a start of dismay and stared into one
another’s eyes.

“Has she failed?” asked Tiktok.

“So it seems,” answered the little monarch, cheerfully. “But that is
no reason one of you should not succeed. The next may have twelve
guesses, instead of eleven, for there are now twelve persons
transformed into ornaments. Well, well! Which of you goes next?”

“I’ll go,” said Dorothy.

“Not so,” replied the Tin Woodman. “As commander of Ozma’s army, it
is my privilege to follow her and attempt her rescue.”

“Away you go, then,” said the Scarecrow. “But be careful, old friend.”

“I will,” promised the Tin Woodman; and then he followed the Nome King
to the entrance to the palace and the rock closed behind him.