“Lulu, there’s no way—” I began, but Lulu’s face shut down. There was no arguing with her. She was too angry, and I couldn’t really blame her. But I knew I’d done the right thing.
“Worthless,” Lulu muttered, turning away in disgust. I stood up, about to go after her, but stopped in shock at the landscape in front of me. Where the Emerald Palace had stood, an angry slash like a scar cut across the earth. Around it, everything was wasteland. The gardens were gone. Rubble was strewn across what had been the palace grounds. And as for the palace itself, there was nothing left. It was as if it had never been there at all.
Gert, Glamora, and Mombi were walking toward us, looking seriously the worse for wear. Like me and Nox, they were filthy and bloodied, but their faces were bright with triumph. “Gert!” I exclaimed happily, and she folded me up in an enormous hug.
“My dear,” she said. “I was worried I’d never see you again. But you’ve done it. You’ve killed her.”
“I didn’t kill her,” I said, and explained all over again what had happened. Mombi raised an eyebrow. Gert was silent. And Glamora just looked at us with a strange, unreadable expression on her face.
“She’s defeated,” I said. I was starting to feel like a broken record. Why did no one think I’d done the right thing? Was Nox doubting me, too?
“For now, at least,” Mombi said.
“She has to be dead,” I protested.
“Not if you didn’t kill her, she doesn’t,” Mombi said. But then she relented. “You’re right, though. She’s not going anywhere for now, at least.”
“We guessed you’d won because the tin soldiers stopped working all at once,” Glamora added. “Dorothy’s power was the only thing animating them.”
“And a good thing, too,” Mombi added. “Our geese were just about cooked. Another minute of fighting, and we’d have been done. Even we aren’t strong enough to hold off a clockwork army forever.”
“Same thing in the city,” Lulu said. “All the buildings are leveled. Your work?”
“I’m guessing Dorothy’s,” Nox said. “Or, more accurately, the power from the Great Clock. She set it loose without being able to control it.”
“And I destroyed it,” I said.
But Nox shook his head. “The Great Clock is at the heart of Oz. It can’t be destroyed any more than Lurline’s pool can. It’ll turn up again.”
“Lurline!” Lulu scoffed. “That’s just a kiddie story. Nobody believes in that claptrap anymore.” Ozma looked startled, and I wondered if she’d understood that Lulu had just dismissed the existence of her ancestor.
“Hardly,” I said. “I met her. In fact, she gave me something.” I pulled the amulet she’d given me out of my pocket. Glamora’s eyes lit up and she reached for it. Something about her look was so greedy that I snatched my hand away instinctively. “It’s not mine. She said I’d know when the time was right to give it to someone,” I said defensively, and then my gaze fell on Ozma.
She was looking at the amulet with her head cocked to one side, like a cat waiting outside a mouse hole. “Pool,” she said distinctly. The smoke-filled stone began to glow. Of course, I thought. Lurline’s gift wasn’t for me. It was for her great-great-great-granddaughter. Without a word, I handed the amulet to Ozma. She looped the chain over her head and the amulet settled on her chest.
“We should wait—” Glamora began, but it was too late. The amulet flashed once, and a glow in Ozma’s green eyes matched its brilliant light. Her long dark hair whipped around her as if stirred by an invisible breeze, and her big gold-edged wings unfurled from her back, crackling with magic. She stretched her arms out as if she’d just come to the end of the world’s most excellent yoga class and gave a huge sigh of satisfaction. When the light faded from her eyes, they were clear.
“Oh my,” she said with a sigh of relief. “That’s much better.”
THIRTY-FIVE
“Princess,” Lulu breathed. “You’ve returned.” She sank to one knee in a sweeping, courtly bow. After a second, Mombi knelt, too. Then Gert, and then Nox, who elbowed me in the ribs. I yelped and then took the hint, curtsying before Ozma, who nodded regally. Only Glamora didn’t bow. Ozma looked her dead in the eye, and finally, she knelt, never taking her eyes off the princess.
“You do not think I am myself,” Ozma said, bemused.
Glamora looked away at last, unable to meet her gaze any longer. “I don’t think we should be hasty,” she said, almost sullenly, like a teenager scolded for not cleaning her room.
“Of course it’s her,” Lulu barked, jumping to feet and brandishing a little pistol she seemed to have pulled out of nowhere. “Why, you—”
Ozma laughed merrily. “My dear champion! Lulu, what would we do without you? I don’t blame Glamora for doubting me.” Her expression grew sober. “I’ve been gone for a long time. But I promise you, Glamora, it’s me. And with Dorothy gone, I can at last regain my rightful place as the ruler of Oz.”
Lulu cheered, dancing around the princess in what looked suspiciously like an actual jig. I stifled a laugh. Even Nox cracked a grin. He stood up and helped me to my feet. Gert and Mombi soon followed. But Glamora remained on her knees.
“Forgive me, Princess, for being suspicious,” she murmured, her eyes downcast. “As you said, it’s been a long time.”
“There is nothing to forgive.” Ozma sighed and looked out over the ruins of what had once been the Emerald City. “I hope too much has not been lost for the glory of Oz to be restored,” she said sadly.
Mombi cleared her throat. “Come now, Princess, that’s no way to talk,” she said gruffly. To my astonishment, I saw that her eyes were filling with tears. “Oh, never mind this old bag,” she grumbled, embarrassed, as she dashed them away with the heel of her hand. “I never thought this day would come.”
But I remembered what Lurline had told me. “We’re not done yet,” I said. “We still have to deal with the Nome King.”
“If we’ve defeated Dorothy, he’ll be planning his next move. We’re safe for the time being,” Glamora said.
“But he’s with my mom. I have to get back to Kansas somehow. I think I can use the shoes to—”
“You’re not going anywhere with those shoes,” Mombi said sharply. “They belong to Oz. Their magic stays here.”
“But—”
“We all make sacrifices, Amy,” Glamora said silkily. Mombi was nodding in agreement.
Nox stepped forward, taking my hand. “Listen to them, Amy,” he said. “They know what’s best.” Had he lost his mind? I opened my mouth to protest. He winked at me, too quickly for the other witches to catch, and I understood. There was no point in fighting all three of them now. He was right. We could figure out a better plan later. And the fact that he was on my side made everything suddenly seem more bearable.
“A coronation!” Gert exclaimed, straightening up, as if we hadn’t just been arguing about the fate of Oz. “That’s just what we need. Bring the country back together, give people something to look forward to. Oz loves a new monarch. Even if she’s a monarch we’ve already had.”
Ozma laughed. “I’ve already had a coronation, Gert,” she said, but Gert waved a hand dismissively.
“That was ages ago,” she said. “Besides, we had that whole unfortunate interlude with Dorothy the Usurper. We want to reassure the whole country that the right person is back in charge for good. A coronation is what the people will want.”
“We don’t even have a palace,” Mombi pointed out.
“We’ll host it in the land of monkeys,” Lulu said excitedly. “Boy, do monkeys know how to throw a party. Why, the last time we—”
“No, no,” Ozma interrupted. “Of course I appreciate your offer, dear Lulu, but the coronations of Oz have always been in the Emerald Palace. If there’s no palace, we’ll have to build something. The heart of Oz is here and always has been, even if the palace is no longer standing.”
I was pretty close to no longer standing myself. I did
n’t realize I’d said it out loud until Nox shot me a funny look. Ozma laughed again and clapped her hands.
“What am I thinking?” she exclaimed. “First, my brave Wicked must rest. You’ve been through so much. We can hardly plan a party if you’re all starving and exhausted.”
As soon as she said it, I realized I was starving. I might have even been more hungry than tired.. Without waiting for another word, Ozma brought her hands together, and they began to glow with power. There was something almost alien about her magic; the light she created shimmered with an oily, rainbow sheen, like gasoline leaking across water. It arced upward, drawing the outline of a structure that slowly took shape under her direction. In just a few minutes, Ozma created a big, silk-walled pavilion stretched over a delicate golden frame with wrought filigree at every joint. Gems winked here and there in the framework, and a beautiful flag fluttered from a pole that sprang from the pavilion’s highest point.
Inside, a long table was laid with more kinds of food than I’d ever seen in one place in my life—even at one of Dorothy’s banquets. An entire roast pig with an apple in its mouth. Platters of fruits, most of which I didn’t recognize, and some of which were talking to each other. Baskets of steaming rolls. Tureens of soup, under which tiny fires burned, stoked by tiny figures who carried tiny logs. An enormous platter of desserts: rainbow-frosted cupcakes dusted with glitter that made me think sadly of Polychrome. A miniature Emerald City, rendered in chocolate, studded with emeralds made out of sugar. A cake in the shape of a dragon that breathed fire. Ozma’s post-maybe-defeating-Dorothy banquet was enough food to feed an army.
Which turned out to be a good thing, since Lulu put two fingers between her lips and emitted a piercing whistle. Monkeys bounded up out of nowhere. Lulu had brought her army—or at least, all its surviving members. Ozma giggled as the monkeys flung themselves at the amazing spread with glee. Even Nox and Mombi were laughing.
“Oh dear,” she said, waving her hand, and bunches of bananas popped up at one end of the table. “You’d better eat something fast. They’re not going to leave leftovers.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. Nox and I waded in among the gleeful monkeys, who were devouring the feast like an army of locusts. I found a plate and began to fill it. I didn’t even look to see what I was grabbing. At that point, I would have eaten pretty much anything.
Nox and I took our plates to one corner of the pavilion, where a little table and two comfy chairs appeared with a pop just as we were looking for somewhere to sit.
“Ozma’s hospitality sure beats Dorothy’s,” I said, sinking gratefully into one of the chairs. A napkin materialized out of thin air and tucked itself discreetly into my collar.
“She doesn’t think much of your table manners, apparently,” Nox said with a smirk. I was too tired to do anything about it.
“I don’t blame her,” I said. “The way I feel right now, I’ll be lucky if I can get half this stuff into my mouth.”
Nox had already dug in, and I followed suit. Everything was delicious. Some things tasted how they looked, and others changed into something else in my mouth. The flavors were all different, but subtly harmonized. It was like eating a symphony.
Ozma hadn’t touched the food, and I wondered if fairies had some weird eating disorder or if they just didn’t need to eat. I couldn’t remember if I’d ever had a meal with her when she was the spaced-out version of herself. After the feast, Ozma snapped her fingers. Table and dishes vanished, and the pavilion began to reconfigure itself into a long hall with dozens of silk-walled rooms flanking it.
“And now, my dear soldiers, it’s time to rest,” she said gently. “Tomorrow we work, but tonight we sleep.”
When Ozma had walked away, I leaned in closer to Nox. “We have to figure out a way for me to get back to Kansas and stop the Nome King,” I said in a low voice. He shook his head at me.
“Not here,” he whispered. “It’s not safe to talk anywhere near them.” I nodded to show I understood. “Anyway, you need rest,” he said in a normal tone of voice. “We all do.” He took my hand and I rested my forehead on his shoulder. From across the tent, Mombi cleared her throat, and I jerked backward. Nox dropped my hand like it was a hot coal.
“They’re watching us,” he said so quietly I almost missed it. I sighed. Nothing was ever simple in Oz.
“Good night,” I said loudly as I stood up and walked away from him. More than anything, I wanted him to be able to follow me. To let my guard down, just for a night. To fall asleep in someone’s arms. But I pushed those thoughts out of my head. I couldn’t let the witches suspect that I was going to try to get back to Kansas on my own—or that Nox and I had feelings for each other that went directly against the Quadrant’s demands. I was pretty sure Gert couldn’t read my thoughts unless I was next to her, but there was no sense in trumpeting my feelings. And Nox was right. More than anything else right now, I needed to sleep.
Pushing aside the curtains and entering one of the little rooms, I saw that it contained a soft, thick mattress piled with pillows and blankets. The magic boots glittered on my feet, but I didn’t have any choice but to sleep in them. Besides, I was so tired it didn’t matter. I didn’t lie down so much as face-plant directly onto the bed. And I’m pretty sure I was fast asleep before my cheek even hit the pillow. Thankfully, I didn’t dream.
THIRTY-SIX
Late-morning light filtered through the silken tent walls. I stretched and yelped aloud as every battered muscle in my body twinged in protest. My feet were sore and swollen. Despite how deeply I’d slept, I was still exhausted. I could feel the shoes tugging at me, like a house cat butting its head against my palm demanding to be petted.
Nox stuck his head through the curtain that closed off my room. “Hey,” he said softly. “The Quadrant wants to see you.” He crossed the room and sat next to me on the bed. He’d cleaned himself up that morning and I caught a whiff of the rich, sandalwood scent of his skin. Suddenly, I was acutely conscious of my messy hair and unbrushed teeth. But Nox was looking at me like—well, like I was beautiful. I blushed furiously.
“Hi,” I said stupidly.
“Hi.” He smiled.
“Are you ready? I’ll take you to them.” I stared up at him, as dopey as a new puppy. Not letting Gert know how badly I wanted to jump Nox’s bones was definitely going to be a serious challenge.
“I—can you—I don’t want to risk using the shoes—” Flushing, I pointed to my greasy hair and unwashed face. A look of comprehension dawned on Nox’s face. He touched my cheek, and my hair untangled itself into a sleek curtain. The wrinkles fell away from the clothes I’d slept in, the bloodstains vanished, and the tears mended themselves. A minty-fresh taste filled my mouth.
“Thanks,” I said. I followed Nox to where the rest of the Quadrant was waiting in a clearing near Ozma’s tent palace.
“We have to talk about the shoes,” Gert said without preamble. “As long as they’re on your feet, you’re in danger.”
“We’re all in danger,” Glamora added.
“Their magic belongs with Oz,” Mombi added.
Gert nodded, her warm face creased with worry. “You haven’t had them that long. The shoes are too powerful for you to remove them yourself, but we should be able to help you take them off.”
I didn’t like the sound of that “should.” And there was something about their faces that sent a sliver of unease through me. I trusted them—more or less—but that didn’t mean they weren’t working from their own agenda. I’d always known there were limits to how much they told me. Gert, I knew, could hear my doubts, and so I tried to think about something else. Flowers. Kittens. Mochas.
“Lurline told me the shoes would serve me well if I trusted in their power,” I said. “Without them, I don’t think I can use magic at all.”
“Amy, we can’t trust anything that came to you from the Nome King,” Glamora said. “The risk is too huge.”
“Maybe Amy’s right,” Nox sa
id. I knew he’d had no idea what the witches wanted, or he’d have warned me back in the tent.
“You’re not disagreeing with a Quadrant decision, are you?” Glamora snapped.
For a second, none of us spoke. The air was full of tension. I wanted to fight them, but even with the boots I doubted I’d be strong enough. Maybe I could steal the boots back again. Maybe I could find some other way to get home. I didn’t like it, but I couldn’t stop them if they wanted to overpower me—and I had no doubt they’d do it.
“Will it hurt?” I asked. “When you take them off, I mean.”
“It might,” Mombi said. Glamora shot her a look. “What?” the old witch grumbled. “She should know what she’s getting into.” Unexpectedly, she looked at me with sympathy. “We know you’ve been through a lot, Amy. I’m sorry to ask one more thing of you. We wouldn’t do it if we didn’t think the shoes could end up hurting you.”
“Ready for us to try?” Gert asked. I nodded. Nox gave me an anxious look, but he joined hands with the rest of the Quadrant.
The witches closed their eyes and began to chant softly. At first, nothing changed. And then my feet started to feel warm. The boots’ glow intensified into a radiant white light that hurt my eyes. The heat got more and more excruciating, and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to cry. I could feel myself floating into the air and hovering a few inches above the ground.
The chanting grew louder and then stopped. The witches’ magic surrounded me, probing at my feet and legs like dozens of strong arms poking and prodding me. When Mombi had said this might hurt, she wasn’t kidding. I’d had to go to the dentist when I was a kid to get three cavities filled at once, and I had the same powerless feeling. Knowing that what was happening was supposed to be good for me didn’t make it feel any better. Anger flooded through me. I couldn’t help it. I was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of hurting, tired of all this pain and death and doing the right thing for the wrong people. I wanted to be left alone. I wanted to go the hell back to bed. I could feel the tidal wave of fury rising up in me, the same anger that had turned me into a literal monster once before. My feet were on fire.