Dorothy Must Die Novella #7 (5 page)

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.

“Nice work, girl,” Mombi said approvingly. “We'll make a soldier out of you yet. Now listen—don't you dare use magic on your own yet. You remember what happened when Nox pissed you off? You have some talent, don't get me wrong, but no
control. Try to use magic on your own before I give you permission, and I'll throw you out of the Order. Are we clear?”

“Clear,” Lanadel said. Mombi peered at her suspiciously, but seemed satisfied with her answer. But was the witch telling her the truth about her magic being potentially harmful? The Order seemed keen on keeping information from even its most advanced trainees. Maybe Mombi was afraid Lanadel would find out something she wasn't supposed to if she used magic on her own. Maybe the real danger wasn't to her—it was to the Order.

Mombi snapped her fingers, interrupting Lanadel's thoughts, and with another sick jerk the vista was yanked away and replaced with the training cave where they'd started out. Nox and Melindra were sparring, their faces taut with concentration. Nox dropped his fists when Mombi and Lanadel reappeared, and Melindra knocked him flat with a roundhouse kick. “Never drop your guard!” she sang out cheerily. Lanadel hid a smile.

“Thanks for the reminder,” Nox said from the ground. Melindra pulled him to his feet. “How'd she do?” he asked Mombi.

“Not bad for a first timer,” Mombi said. “Not bad at all. A little rough around the edges, but we all have to start somewhere.”

“That's my girl,” Melindra said proudly. “Dorothy hasn't sucked up all the magic out there yet.” Lanadel smiled at her, flushing with pleasure. At least Melindra wasn't shy about giving out compliments. Melindra wasn't shy about anything. More and more, Lanadel was wishing she could be that way, too.

But what she said didn't make sense. “Dorothy's stealing magic? From Oz?” she asked.

Mombi nodded grimly. “As far as we can tell, she's been siphoning power everywhere she can get it since she returned to Oz.”

“I don't understand,” Lanadel said. “Why would anyone do that?”

“Why would Dorothy try to steal Oz's magic? Why would she corrupt the Woodman and the Scarecrow? Nobody has the answers to those questions, but that doesn't mean it's not happening. That's what we're fighting,” Melindra said.

“Don't you have to know why to stop her?”

“You didn't have to know why to come here,” Nox pointed out.

“But maybe someone can—I don't know, reason with her. Show her what she's doing to Oz. She's not from here. Maybe she doesn't understand somehow.”

“Oh, she understands, all right,” Nox said bitterly. “Nobody doubts that. She wants power. It doesn't matter why. Maybe everyone from the Other Place is like that. The Wizard loved power, too, don't forget. Whatever happened to him in the end.” Nox looked thoughtful. “It's possible the Wizard could help us stop Dorothy if he's still alive. We don't understand how her magic works here—how someone from the Other Place can use power in Oz. There's so much we still have to learn. But we don't have time to sit around and send out spies. Dorothy's moving fast. We have to stop her soon, or it'll be too late. And there aren't many people we can trust anymore. Word is that Dorothy has spies everywhere. That she's working with Glinda, even.
That the two of them are responsible for whatever happened to Ozma.” He shook his head. “Nothing's the way it should be anymore. That's the only thing you can be sure of now.”

“Can I trust you?” Lanadel asked. “Melindra? Mombi? How do I even know you're telling me the truth?” Mombi snorted and muttered something under her breath.

“You can't trust
anyone
,” Nox repeated, ignoring the witch. “We're trying to teach you the skills to fight Dorothy, yes. But I'm also trying to teach you to fend for yourself. To see things as they are. How can you fight if you won't acknowledge what it is that you're fighting? If we keep acting blindly, it doesn't matter if we defeat Dorothy. Something just as bad will take her place. We can't trust each other. The only thing we can trust in is Oz.”

“I don't even know what that means,” Lanadel said.

“I know,” Nox said. “But you will. That's why you're here. If you're ready to fight for Oz, and not yourself—if you fight for the way things
should
be, you'll never lose sight of the truth.”

“
What
truth?” she asked, exasperated.

“Don't listen to him,” Melindra said, rolling her eyes. “He's super into filling everybody's head with the same mumbo jumbo nonsense. The only thing you have to remember is we're going to hit Dorothy where it hurts.” She mimed punching into the air. “It's almost time for dinner,” she added. “Magic lesson's over for the day. You're free.”

“I decide when the magic lesson is over,” Mombi said, but she didn't sound too upset. It was hard to say no to Melindra. And for good reason. It was like Melindra was the true heart of the
Order. No matter what Nox said, Lanadel trusted her. Melindra could fight, sure, but she wasn't constantly talking in circles or trying to hide the truth. She said what she thought. Among the Wicked, that was practically a magical power of its own. Melindra leaned briefly into Nox, and he looked startled, but quickly recovered. Then he stiffly put one arm around her.

Melindra smiled at him. “You just have to pretend to listen to him talk for a while, and then he usually stops,” she said affectionately. “You don't actually have to pay attention.” She elbowed Nox in the ribs, not subtly. He scowled and took his arm away.

“Come on, Mombi,” he said. “I want to discuss some strategy points with you.” And then he whirled around abruptly and stalked away from them. Mombi looked back and forth between Nox and Melindra, one eyebrow raised. And then she followed Nox out of the cavern.

Melindra sighed, suddenly deflated. “So. Big day for you, huh? Mombi taught you some magic, and Nox gave you his patented Wicked ride-or-die talk. You ready for battle now, or what?”

“Something like that,” Lanadel said. “Are you . . .” She trailed off, not sure what to say. Nox and Melindra's relationship, if it even existed, was a total mystery.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Melindra said tiredly. “Or I mean, as fine as I can be. I just wish I could get through to him, you know? There's a different person in there. I think I'm the only person who's ever seen it. And that's the Nox I care about.”

Lanadel nodded. Melindra could just as easily have been talking about Lanadel herself. Sometimes Lanadel felt like she was constantly wearing a disguise around the Order. But if there was a different person waiting inside her, who was it? What was the real Lanadel even like? She'd hidden herself for so long she couldn't even be sure. First around her family, who'd never understood that she had always wanted something more than their tiny village. And then, when she got her wish in the most horrible way possible . . .

Melindra shook her head, her eyes following the path Nox had traced as he left. “He's damaged goods,” she said. “Lucky for him he has that hair, right?” But although she was joking, there was something almost melancholy in her voice.