Dorothy Must Die Novella #7

  “Okay,” Nox said, in his usual infuriatingly even tone. “Let’s try that one again, Lanadel.”

  They did. And again. And again. Each time, Melindra knocked her down before she could even land a strike while Holly and Larkin snickered. This time, Melindra and Nox didn’t defend her. They were so focused on fighting that she wondered if they even heard Holly and Larkin’s sneers. Why couldn’t she be the same way? Or maybe now they expected her to defend herself. Out there in the real world, out fighting Dorothy, there’d be no one to stop anyone else from trying to hurt her. If she couldn’t learn to deal with Holly and Larkin now, she’d be next to useless when she was faced with a real distraction.

  But no matter how hard she tried, Lanadel couldn’t concentrate. Each time Melindra knocked her feet out from under her, Larkin’s laughter rang in her ears until it was the only thing she could hear. “Come on, Lanadel!” Nox yelled as Melindra knocked her down for what felt like the thousandth time. “Focus!” It was no use. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision, but Melindra was relentless. When she was fighting, she was practically a machine. Nothing could stop her. No wonder she was the Order’s fiercest fighter. It wasn’t just how strong she was. She had something else, some power that let her tune out everything except the enemy in front of her. It wasn’t magic. It was sheer skill.

  Finally, Nox dismissed her with a scowl. Equal parts relieved and humiliated, she wiped sweat and tears out of her eyes as Nox called Holly into the ring. As she watched Melindra circle the other girl, Lanadel started to understand how Holly moved. Her inhuman, panther-like grace let her flow effortlessly from one movement to another. Slowed down, she looked like a dancer performing an elaborate, fierce ballet. As Nox and Melindra took turns darting toward Holly, she quickly deflected their kicks and strikes, mimicking Melindra’s easy, confident movements.

  But while Melindra didn’t even break a sweat, Holly’s face glistened from the effort of blocking her attacks. Even Nox was actually breathing hard. Melindra looked as cool and as calm as if she hadn’t been fighting at all. “Good, Holly,” Nox said, and Holly flashed Lanadel a triumphant grin. Larkin’s turn in the ring was next. As he fought, Holly sidled up to her.

  “That’s how it’s done,” she said in a low voice. “I don’t know why they bothered to recruit you if you can’t even block a basic hit. What are you, some kind of charity case?”

  Lanadel gritted her teeth and refused to look at Holly. If Melindra could ignore her, so could she. And Larkin might have been just as good a fighter as Holly, but he had to work even harder. He was breathing hard, and his forehead was slick with sweat.

  “What was your family, a bunch of peasants? My family was royalty. They taught me how to protect myself. You know,” Holly said airily, waving a hand. “In case some dirty Quadling wanted to kidnap me for ransom.” She sounded as though she found the thought utterly delicious.

  “That’s ridiculous. Quadlings don’t kidnap people. And you don’t know anything about my family. And you know even less about me,” Lanadel snarled in spite of herself. She could take plenty of insults. But not that. Never that.

  “Someone’s a little defensive. Why, I bet your parents probably weren’t even—”

  Lanadel’s body moved before her brain even registered the slight. All those weeks with Nox had paid off. Her instincts worked just fine when they wanted to. And before she knew what she was doing, her fist connected with Holly’s sneering face. Holly reeled backward in shock, blood gushing from a nose that looked suddenly, distinctly crooked.

  “What are you doing?” someone was shouting behind her, but Holly had already recovered and dropped into her fighting stance. Whatever else she was, she was no coward. And like Nox had said, she could really fight. She lunged at Lanadel, her fists up for the offensive, and Lanadel ducked and lashed out—just the way Nox had taught her. All the endless, boring repetitions and drills had sunk the movements into her muscles until they came as easily as breathing. As she and Holly flowed and jabbed around each other, she found herself smiling. She liked fighting. And more than that, she was good at it. She saw her opening and drew back her fist, preparing to lay Holly out on the mats of the training cave.

  And then Larkin hit her in the back of the head. She staggered backward and brought her fists up again, but it was too late. Holly swept her feet out from under her with a low kick and she toppled to the mats so hard she saw stars.

  “What is this?” Mombi barked. Where had the witch even come from? Did she have eyes in the back of her head? Probably, Lanadel thought, rubbing her ringing temples. Holly had danced away from her, a martyred expression on her face as she tenderly dabbed at her nose. “What were you thinking?” Behind Mombi, she saw Nox with his arms folded across his chest. Melindra looked like she was trying not to crack a smile. Holly and Larkin had identical expressions of smug satisfaction.

  “Let her sit up,” Melindra urged. Mombi grumbled something under her breath that sounded a lot like “idiot girl,” but offered Lanadel her hand and pulled her to her feet. Lanadel winced as a white-hot flare of pain lanced through her head. Mombi nodded grimly.

  “Serves you right,” she said, but her voice was a little more sympathetic. “A trip to the healing pool would fix you right up, but maybe a headache will serve to remind you that we do not fight each other outside the ring.” She whirled around, pointing at Larkin and Holly. “And that goes for the two of you, too. Don’t think I don’t know who started this one. Try that again, and you’ll be the ones getting whacked upside the head. Is that clear?” Holly and Larkin quickly rearranged their faces into expressions of contrite humility.

  “Yes, Mombi,” Holly said sweetly in a high-pitched singsong. Mombi rolled her eyes.

  “Now get out, the lot of you,” she said crossly. Nox looked startled. “Sparring practice is moved to cavern two. Lanadel and I will need the main cave. If you think our girl’s ready for magic, it’s time she got some real lessons. None of this aggravating-people-in-corridors nonsense.” She gave Nox a dirty look.

  “I thought—” he said, flushing, and Mombi wagged a finger at him.

  “Your job isn’t to do any thinking!” she interrupted. She turned toward Lanadel, and behind her back Nox gave her a look that was murderous. Lanadel wondered what was going on there. It didn’t just feel like Mombi reprimanding him for stepping out of line. It was like there was some whole long, complicated history between them. Something she couldn’t even begin to guess at.

  “You’re dismissed,” Mombi added, waving a hand at Holly, Larkin, Melindra, and Nox. Melindra, slipping out of fighting mode as easily as she’d gotten into it, rolled her eyes and gave Lanadel a sympathetic look, mouthing the words “Good luck” when the old witch’s back was turned.

  Holly smiled evilly. “You’re going to need it,” she added with a hiss. Mombi’s mouth twitched into an almost-smile, and Lanadel knew she’d heard.

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” Melindra said in a normal tone of voice, prodding Holly and Larkin out of the cave. “Get a move on, you little Wogglebugs. I’ll put you through your paces next door. And if you try to hit me on the head, I’ll make you regret the day you were born.”

  But Nox didn’t budge as the others filed out of the cavern. “I should stay,” he said stiffly. “You put me in charge of training new recruits, even if you’re the one teaching her magic.”

  Another strange, electric charge passed between them, and something about Mombi’s demeanor softened. “Oh, all right,” she grumbled, but her usual hostile fierceness was suddenly gone. Lanadel made a note to ask Melindra later what Nox’s history was with the witch. She’d mentioned Mombi had raised him but there didn’t seem much love lost between the two. Nox sat in a corner, stretching out his long, muscular legs and leaning back against the wall. He crossed his arms over his chest, his expression back to its usual unreadability. Lanadel would have preferred he not be in the room. If she was going to humiliate herself, she’d rather he didn?
??t see it. But she knew better than to ask him to leave. Especially after whatever had just happened between him and Mombi. She straightened her spine—something about being around Mombi always made her remember her posture—and waited expectantly for the witch to tell her what to do. And waited. And waited.

  The old witch stared at her silently. A long, awkward moment passed, and then another. Lanadel cleared her throat. And then, just like that, Mombi snapped her fingers and Lanadel jumped. The witch smiled. “You probably think magic is just like that,” she said. “Snap your fingers and miracles happen.” She snapped again and Lanadel gasped. A huge, perfect replica of a lion loomed over her, its mouth bared in a snarl. She knew it wasn’t real but she still threw up her arms in self-defense. Mombi snapped a third time and the lion disappeared.

  “I don’t think that at all,” Lanadel said honestly.

  “Good,” Mombi said. “Because it looks easy. But the easy part is an illusion. Like anything else worth learning, magic takes hard work. Not everyone can do it. In fact, most people can’t. But Nox sees something in you”—she looked over at where he sat, looking stonily back at her—“and you wouldn’t have made it here in the first place if you didn’t have something more than ordinary courage.”

  Coming from Mombi, that was a compliment. “So how do I—” Lanadel began, but the witch didn’t wait for her to finish her sentence. She leaned forward and grabbed Lanadel’s hands with both of hers, staring deeply into her eyes.

  And suddenly Lanadel wasn’t in the cavern with Mombi anymore. They were standing on a surface that was as clear and solid as glass. Blooming clouds of color moved through the ground beneath them like ink expanding in water. More clouds swirled around them in the air, expanding and contracting as if they were living, breathing things. In the distance, a sparkling range of mountains shifted and pulsed like the clouds that surrounded them, changing colors with every beat: pale sunrise rose pink; deep sapphire blue; a vivid blue gray like the sky before a thunderstorm. Just past where she and Mombi stood, a river flowed merrily over the glassy ground, sunlight dancing across its surface. The air was warm and balmy as bathwater. The sky overhead was a clear, flawless blue that served as a gorgeous backdrop to the clouds that moved around them.

  Lanadel gasped. It was the most beautiful place she’d ever been. More beautiful than Glamora’s dazzling banquet hall, more beautiful than anything she’d seen on her long journey to Mount Gillikin—more beautiful, even, than home. Not that she had a home anymore.

  Mombi beamed at her, pleased as punch. “Sky Island,” she said proudly. “Used to be quite the tourist destination, before . . . well, you know. Now it’s one of the last remaining places in Oz that’s truly free.” She waggled an eyebrow. “Of course, that’s because there’s no magic here and no one actually lives here now that the hotel is abandoned and the souvenir store closed, but still. On this single, glittery bangle, we’re completely safe from Dorothy. For now. As long as she doesn’t know we’re here.” Mombi looked suddenly haggard. “So not really all that safe after all. But you get my drift.”

  “I’m assuming we’re not here for a vacation,” Lanadel said when she caught her breath again.

  “No,” Mombi said with a wry grin. “Though Lurline knows we all could use one. I’m afraid vacations aren’t on the agenda for any of us anytime soon. You’re here to learn magic, girl. Or—let me revise that. You’re here to tap into the magic you already know.”

  “I can’t do that in the training caves?”

  “Oh, sure you can. But this is much nicer, don’t you think? Plus, if you accidentally turn a rock into a dragon or some such, there’s no one for it to eat except you.”

  Lanadel gulped. Surely Mombi was joking? But her face was severe. With the old witch, you never knew. “So what do I do?” she asked.

  Mombi waggled her other eyebrow. “What do you do?” she echoed. “You stand here until you can feel it. The river’s lemonade, incidentally, if you get thirsty.”

  “Feel what?” Lanadel asked, exasperated.

  “Feel magic,” Mombi said. “Obviously.” She rolled her eyes. Lanadel bit back a sarcastic retort. Training with Nox was hard enough, but at least she knew what she was supposed to be doing. Standing here, no matter how beautiful it was, listening to Mombi spout nonsensical riddles, was something else entirely. She’d felt something when Nox had provoked her in the corridor outside her sleeping cave. Something totally different from anything she’d known before. Something huge, and powerful, and alive. Apparently that was magic. But she had no idea where it had come from, or how to get it back. And Nox wasn’t here to get in a fight with—although Mombi was getting close to aggravating her to the same degree. Maybe that’s what she’s trying to do, Lanadel thought. Except that “infuriating” was pretty much Mombi’s standard operating mode. The witch looked at her expectantly.

  “I’m not a witch,” Lanadel said.

  Mombi actually laughed out loud, slapping her knees in merriment. “Oh, goodness no, girl. You don’t have to be a witch to use magic. Everyone in Oz knows that.”

  I didn’t, Lanadel thought. And then she thought suddenly of Holly and Larkin and their sneering, superior faces. If they could learn magic, so could she. Mombi had told her to stand there until she felt it, whatever “it” was. And if that was what it took, that was what she was going to do.

  Lanadel closed her eyes. Shut out the swirling clouds and the mountain vista, the musical sounds of the river winding over the ground. Forgot the sun on her face and the gentle, warm breeze in her hair. She thought back to the thing she’d felt for the briefest moment, the tiny seed of flame that had flared to life in her chest. And then, for the first time since she’d come to the training caves, she let herself think about her brothers. If emotion was what it took to bring magic to life inside her, there was no emotion stronger than what she felt about losing her family. Nothing more powerful than the anger and hatred that drove her to the Order, to learn the skills she needed to destroy everyone who’d ever hurt her. Everyone who’d taken so much away from her. And suddenly the tiny flame roared up into a fire as huge as the flames that had burned her village and swallowed up her brothers’ bodies—a bonfire that took hold and spread as rapidly as wildfire across the landscape of her heart. She was burning alive with power; she could feel it roaring around her, crackling from her fingers and hissing through her hair. There was nothing she couldn’t do, no one she couldn’t take down—

  And then Mombi grabbed her hands again and the flames went out as though they’d been doused with an ocean’s worth of cold water. She shuddered and sank to her knees. “Wizard’s teeth, girl,” Mombi said, sounding a little shaken. “I should have taken a closer look at you before I told you to tap into that.” Mombi pulled her back to her feet and put an arm around her briefly until Lanadel could stand without help. The witch regarded her thoughtfully. “You’re a very angry young lady,” she said.

  Lanadel took a deep, shuddering breath. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I am.”

  Mombi nodded. “There’s power in that anger, as you just found out. But you’ll have to be more careful than most. Unchecked anger is a dangerous place from which to draw your magic. It’s difficult to control. It can consume you totally, transform you into something else. Someone you don’t recognize.”

  “I already am someone I don’t recognize,” Lanadel said. None of her family would have imagined that the person she was now could ever have been the person she used to be. But no one in her family was alive to see her turn into a warrior.

  “All of us have lost something,” Mombi said. “Each and every one. You’ll have to learn how to keep living with it. But you can’t let it define you.”

  “I don’t have anything else.”

  “You have the Order,” Mombi said. Lanadel didn’t bother to reply. The Order was temporary. The Order was what she needed right now. But the anger that was keeping her alive was permanent. Until she found a way to stop Dorothy. The Order was
nothing but a stop along the way—and she didn’t believe for a second that Mombi and Nox cared any more about her than she did about them. Melindra, she thought. Melindra was different. But Melindra wasn’t in charge.

  Mombi looked closely at her. “You think the Order is full of secrets, and you’re right,” the old witch said. “We keep our cards close to our chest. It’s for your safety. But there’s something you have to understand about magic. We’re trying to keep you on the right side of power.”

  “I thought magic was a weapon.”

  “Any tool is a weapon if you hold it right,” Mombi said impatiently. “That’s not the point. The Wicked isn’t about war—that’s just what we’re facing now, because Dorothy’s let the balance of power in Oz tilt like a drunk sailor. The Order has always done just that—kept order. Maintained the balance. Good, Wicked, those parts don’t matter. When the war’s over, we’ll still be here doing the same thing. Do you understand?”

  Not at all, Lanadel thought. Mombi was as bad as Nox with all his arcane speeches about balance and magic. When the war was over, Dorothy would be dead. And that was all she cared about.

  “That’s almost enough for today,” Mombi said. “One last lesson, shall we?” Mombi took Lanadel’s hands again and closed her eyes. “Concentrate with me,” she said. “Focus on Mount Gillikin. You’re strong enough to take us back there. Just don’t let your own power take control.”

  Lanadel closed her eyes again and concentrated on the mountain. She could feel the fire surging up in her heart. Not now, she told it. Just take me home. And instead of a roaring flame, the power filled her with a gentle warmth. “That’s it!” Mombi crowed. There was a rushing noise and the bottom dropped out of her stomach as if they were moving incredibly quickly across a huge distance. Lanadel wondered if she was going to throw up. And then with a jolt the sense of movement stopped, and she opened her eyes.

  She was standing outside the cavern that led to the Order’s caves, on a flat balcony of stone that overlooked the valley below. The Traveling Mountains undulated in the distance. The sky was the same cloudless blue as over Sky Island, but up here the air was thinner. She’d done it. She’d brought them back to the Order. And she was absolutely, completely exhausted.