But they were battling my friends. There was Lulu, whirling through the fray, her pistol firing shot after shot and her mouth open. Although I couldn’t hear anything, I knew from the look on her face that her howl was one of glee. Winkies, Munchkins, and monkeys—Winged and Wingless Ones—battled side by side, matching Glinda’s soldiers blow for blow. Gert was standing in the middle of them all, leveling a dozen of Glinda’s soldiers with an appropriate pink wave of smoke.
Despite the chaos, I could see it: Glinda’s army was losing. It was a beautiful sight. For the first time in a long time, something that felt like hope flared up in my chest.
And then the vision shifted to a different part of the battlefield, and this time I gasped in surprise: Ozma hovered over the melee, her beautiful wings unfurled, hurling bolts of magic at Glinda’s army. And beside her was Mombi.
“Mombi’s—Mombi’s alive?” I said in shock. I couldn’t wait to tell Nox. I had been terrified by her the first moment I met her—purple webs and all. But I was glad she was here—and I knew Nox would be, too.
The figure next to Mombi turned and I recognized the gorgeous profile that once upon a time I had crushed on before I fell for Nox. Pete.
“Pete is fighting for us?”
“Ozma and Pete are still connected, you know,” Lurline said. “He betrayed you to save himself. But the guilt haunts him still.”
“It should,” I muttered.
“And Mombi survived the Nome King’s attack. He was distracted trying to rescue Dorothy from the Emerald Palace. Ozma’s army is fighting the last battle of Oz. She is a credit to us all.” Lurline’s voice was filled with pride.
And then I almost shouted out a warning: Glamora was zooming toward Ozma on a wave of crackling pink magic. There was no mistaking the truth now: all of Glamora’s kind benevolence was gone. Her face was twisted and evil, and the terrible scar that Glinda had given her looked ugly and raw, as if her sister’s controlling her body had opened the wound all over again.
But Ozma saw her coming and was ready. She moved her hands, and a web of golden threads spun itself around her as Glamora hurtled forward. Glamora crashed into Ozma’s net in a burst of sparks, but Ozma’s defenses held. And when Glamora pulled away I could see a network of fine, smoking lines all over her body where Ozma’s web had burned her.
The witch and the fairy clashed again and again. And while Ozma looked fresh and strong, Glamora was clearly flagging.
“The magic holding her to her sister is exhausting her,” Lurline said. “Glinda has warped too much power for too long, and now it is costing her. Stealing magic from Oz, enslaving Munchkins, refusing death when it was her time . . .” I could feel disapproval in Lurline’s voice, but there was something more than that, too.
Regret.
“Is there another way to stop her?” I asked. I was watching Ozma battle Glamora toward the ground but I was also thinking of someone else who needed to be stopped.
Lurline sighed. I could almost feel her shrug.
“Power will always corrupt those who have not learned to serve it properly,” Lurline said. “What is happening now has happened before, and what has happened before will happen again.”
“The same thing?” I asked in astonishment.
“Some cycle of it,” Lurline said.
I reflected on that as, in front of me, Ozma struck the final blow. A powerful bolt of golden lightning hit Glamora in the chest and knocked her out of the sky. As the witch lay powerless on the ground, Ozma extended her hands. I turned my head away, not wanting to watch the killing blow.
I had no love for Glinda. But Glamora had once been my friend. And whatever she was now, I didn’t want to see her suffer. Although I believed that the Order was wrong in trying to use our love to move Nox and me around like chess pieces, I loved the witches—all of them. They had taught me about magic. They had helped me shed Salvation Amy and become me.
“Isn’t there something you can do?” I asked desperately.
Lurline shook her head. “It’s up to her now. Glinda and Glamora have been battling for so very long. Imagine that much Good and that much Wicked occupying the same body. But you should look now.” Reluctantly, I raised my head.
Ozma’s face was peaceful and calm. Almost gentle. Rays of golden light flowed from her fingers, wrapping Glamora in ropy cords that solidified in front of my eyes. Within her bonds, Glamora’s form grew blurry and indistinct.
And then Ozma lowered her arms with a fierce motion, shouting an incantation I couldn’t hear, and Glamora and her bonds disappeared.
“She didn’t kill her,” I breathed. “But what if she escapes?”
“What if she does?” Lurline said. “She will remember Ozma’s mercy. And, while it might not shift the course of what she chooses next, the balance of compassion will be preserved.”
Compassion, I thought. Not Good. Not Wicked.
Forgiveness. And empathy. And love. But who had she saved? Was it Glinda or Glamora?
Ozma looked up from the battlefield and for the briefest second her eyes met mine. She squinted—and then smiled.
“Good luck, Amy,” she mouthed.
“She can see me?”
“She can see me,” Lurline corrected. “But she knows you are with me now. Don’t lose heart, Amy. Your path lies through Ev. You must complete the task you were brought here to do. You must defeat Dorothy.”
The vision of Oz disappeared as if someone had flicked off a television.
“I couldn’t do it, Lurline,” I said. “I couldn’t kill her.”
And then I realized what she’d said.
Not kill Dorothy.
Defeat her.
I was right. There was another way. That was what Lurline was trying to tell me. That was why she’d shown me the battle Ozma had just fought. The Wicked had been wrong. Killing Dorothy wasn’t the only way to defeat her. But if that was true, it was up to me to find another way.
I felt her smile again. “Dorothy was just like you once, you know. Headstrong and intelligent and brave. Looking for adventure wherever it found her. None of us are entirely Wicked or entirely Good. Or entirely evil, for that matter. We are made of what shapes us.”
That was pretty cryptic advice, but I had a feeling it was all I was going to get.
“Be brave, my dear,” Lurline said. I felt a brush of lips across my forehead.
A fairy’s kiss. Just like Gert had kissed me once, after my first battle in Oz. The battle where I’d thought I’d watched her die. Warmth spread through my body. Her kiss washed away my exhaustion and fear. I felt completely safe.
“Good-bye for now, dear Amy,” she said. But her voice sounded farther away. Below me, the verdant jungle was crumbling into dust. Darkness swallowed me again, but this time I wasn’t afraid.
“Amy!” Someone was shouting my name in the distance. “Amy, what happened? Amy!” The voice was full of panic—and familiar.
“Nox,” I said.
“Amy!” His voice was tinged with relief. I opened my eyes. I hadn’t even known I’d closed them. I was in Lang’s guest chambers. Nox and Madison were staring at me, their eyes huge with fear.
“Holy shit,” Madison breathed. “What just happened? Are you okay? You just had, like, a seizure, and your shoes were glowing, and your eyes were like rolling back in your head—”
I interrupted her babble. “It’s okay,” I said. “I’m fine, I really am. Nox, you’re not going to believe this, but Mombi’s alive.”
“What?”
“I saw it,” I said eagerly. “Just now. I was with Lurline.”
“You were having a seizure,” Madison said, her face suddenly concerned. “You didn’t go anywhere, Ames.”
I shook my head impatiently. “No, listen. I saw them—I saw her. She’s alive, Nox.”
Nox turned his back, his shoulders hunched. I had never seen him cry, but when I wrapped my arms around him I realized he wasn’t crying—he was laughing.
“It’s hard
to kill a witch,” he said. I smiled sadly but before I could respond I heard footsteps pounding down the hall. Seconds later, Langwidere flung the door open, her eyes wild with fury—and fear. Her mask was gone, her kimono clutched tight around her chest, and she was breathing hard.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she snarled. “What are you doing?”
We all looked at her in surprise.
“What were you thinking, using magic like that here? You couldn’t have told Dorothy you were here any more clearly than if you’d marched up to the Nome King’s palace and banged on the door. Whatever you just did sent up a signal flare of power so huge they probably felt it in Oz.”
Nox and I exchanged glances. “I didn’t think—” I began.
“No,” she said. “That much is clear. You have to get out of here before they come looking for you. I’m not going down with you just because you’re a bunch of idiots.”
“I’m sorry,” I said hastily. “I know it was a huge risk. But I saw Lurline, Lang. She told me we have to work together. The road brought us to you for a reason. You know it as well as I do.”
“Lurline is a myth,” Lang snapped. But for the first time, she seemed almost uncertain. She was wavering. Somewhere, some part of her knew I was right.
Nox could feel it, too. “We don’t have anywhere to go,” he said. “Lang, we want to kill Dorothy just as much as you do—and bring down the Nome King while we’re at it. They were going to find out we were here sooner or later. We just have to move faster. You have to let us help you.”
“I don’t think you’re in a position to be issuing ultimatums,” Lang said. “And I fight alone.”
“That’s not what you learned in the Order,” he countered.
“I learned a lot of things in the Order,” she said. “Thanks to you, I learned how to abandon the people you trust and send your allies into danger.”
Nox looked at her for a long beat, then said, “I’m sorry, Lanadel!” At the sound of her old name, she started. “I know you think I made a mistake. But I didn’t have a choice. I had to do what was best for the Order. You know that. I would never have put any of you at risk if I didn’t have another option.”
“You killed her!”
And then he really looked at her. “Lang, Melindra isn’t dead.”
Melindra? What did she have to do with any of this? I knew Melindra and Nox had . . . history. And I knew Melindra wasn’t my biggest fan. But we’d trained together, fought together. I might not like her, but I’d trust the half-metal, half-human girl with my life.
“You’re lying,” Lang said. “No one survives the Scarecrow’s workshop. No one.”
“She did,” I said. “He’s not lying. I’ve met her.” I had no idea what was happening, but if Nox needed to convince Lang that Melindra was alive, I could at least help him do that. “She was alive when we left Oz, anyway.”
I felt a small well of pity for Lang rise up in me. She had built her life around an elaborate vengeance plot—only to learn that Melindra was alive after all.
“What did he do to her? How did she escape?”
“Melindra’s the best fighter the Order’s ever seen,” Nox said. “You know that as well as I do. She survived. She’s . . . different. But she survived.”
Of course, I thought. Lang had been part of the Order before Melindra was tortured, transformed into one of the Scarecrow’s twisted creations. But if Nox was leaving that part out, it was on purpose, so I kept my mouth shut.
To my utter surprise, Lang’s eyes filled with tears. She turned away from us, staring sightlessly at the wall. Nox reached out to touch her shoulder, but thought better of it and pulled his hand back. All her disguises had fallen away; her face was filled with raw emotion and so much pain I wanted to grab her up in a bear hug, even though I knew prickly, easily angered Lang would be more likely to take it as an assault than a gesture of comfort. Finally, she reached some kind of inner decision. She sighed and straightened her shoulders, pushing her long hair out of her face.
“I’m not going to work with you. I don’t like you, and I don’t like anything about this. But I’ll take you to one of my smuggling hideouts,” she said. “It’s warded—it will hide you for now. And then I can decide what to do next—and how to get rid of you without risking my own skin.”
I let out my breath slowly. We were that much closer to Lang helping us. But I had no idea what had just happened between her and Nox. I shot him a look, but he shrugged helplessly. And Nox was a lot of things, but he was never helpless. I bit my lip, keeping my own questions to myself. Right now, we had to stay alive long enough to defeat Dorothy and get the hell out of Ev.
“Let’s go,” Lang said. Without waiting to see what we’d do, she stalked out of the room.
We didn’t have much choice but to follow.
ELEVEN
Much to my relief, this time we weren’t traveling by Wheeler. I had seen so many creepy things in Oz that it was surprising anything could still make my skin crawl, but I would be happy if I never saw those awful creatures again as long as I lived. Instead, Lang led us underground, down a twisting series of steps and tunnels that led to a huge, torch-lit cavern.
At one end of the cave a black stream flowed into a high-ceilinged tunnel; nearer to us, it spread into a broad, shallow pool. A long dock stretched out into the water, and tied to it was a black boat carved into the shape of a dragon. Jet-black scales glimmered along its sides, and leathery black sails shaped like wings waved gently in the breeze drifting off the river.
Another many-headed beetle dressed in a captain’s uniform—complete with tiny sailor hats perched atop each of his heads—jumped to attention as we approached. Lang led us out onto the dock, and the captain helped each of us climb aboard.
Madison refused his outstretched, segmented leg with a shudder, muttering a curse under her breath as she whacked her shins on the edge of the boat. The beetle untied us from the dock—and the boat stretched its wings. Madison squeaked in surprise and even Nox looked alarmed.
“It’s alive!” I exclaimed.
“Of course she’s alive,” Lang said, looking at me in puzzlement. “How do you travel by water in the Other Place?”
I thought about explaining that Kansas was landlocked, and that we used cars, not dragons, but decided against it. Instead, I sank back into the bench carved into the boat’s hollow body.
Except it wasn’t carved, I realized—it was a smooth ridge of bone covered in leathery skin that was warm from the heat of the dragon boat’s body. Peeking over the side, I saw huge, scaly legs paddling strongly underneath us. The captain controlled the dragon boat with a set of long leather reins. I tried not to think about our boat’s long, sharp, and very deadly-looking teeth.
The river carried us through a seemingly endless series of dimly lit tunnels and underground canals. In places, we saw other traffic—mostly emaciated-looking peasants dressed in tattered rags, poling along in skiffs pieced together from bits and scraps, but also a few boats like ours ferrying people who were obviously much richer.
As we traveled, I told Nox and Lang about what Lurline had showed me. And I couldn’t be sure, but I almost sensed Lang softening as I talked. As if she was finally, finally starting to believe that we might be on her side, too.
Each time we passed another boat, Lang gestured for us to duck down. The boat spread its wings even wider as we sailed past, hiding us under its huge wings.
I was well aware of how important it was to stay hidden. Still, I couldn’t help looking around every chance I got. The scenery was eerily beautiful and totally unlike anything I’d ever seen in Oz.
Nox caught my eye and I leaned over to him.
“Are you sure it was real?” he asked.
“She’s alive. And they’re winning.”
Nox leaned into my shoulder. “I hate her sometimes. Most of the time. But I want her to be in the world so I can keep hating her until I can’t anymore. Does that make sense?”
r /> I nodded. “I could have said the same thing about my mother for most of my life.”
“But not now?”
“She’s better. She’s trying. It doesn’t erase the years when she was so messed up. And it doesn’t mean it won’t happen again. But I don’t hate her today.”
The boat shifted suddenly, knocking me into him. Before I could right myself, Nox pulled me closer and kissed me. It wasn’t like our other kisses. It was deeper and needier. I left myself fall into it, blocking out our surroundings if just for a moment.
Lang cleared her throat and we broke apart.
“We’re getting close now. It’s time for me to change.” She turned away from us and I saw the silver choker glow brightly for an instant. Lang faced us again, and I gasped. She now wore the face—or was it the head?—of a homely old woman. Her clothes had been replaced by a nondescript coverall made of unremarkable gray-green fabric. She looked like a workman borrowing her boss’s fancy boat to run an errand.
Which was exactly the point, I realized. Lang was turning out to be a master of disguise.
“So some of the rumor is true,” I said grimly.
She shrugged. “I don’t actually kill people and take off their heads. With magic I’m able to ‘borrow’ other people.” Madison looked green, as though she might hurl over the side of the boat at any minute.
“Does everyone in Ev live underground?” I asked, trying to change the subject.
“Some of the farmers keep surface settlements,” Lang said. I thought of the sad, shabby villages we’d passed on the way to her palace. “Most people work as slave labor in the Nome King’s jewel mines and forges.”
“Slaves?” Nox asked. Lang gave him a sharp look.
“We’re not as enlightened here as you are in Oz,” she said sarcastically. I thought of seeing the Munchkins mining for magic when I first landed in Oz.
“Dorothy’s Oz isn’t exactly what I’d call enlightened,” I said. “What about the Wheelers?” I asked, grimacing at the memory of the awful creatures who’d so cavalierly borne us across the desert.