Dorothy Must Die: The Other Side of the Rainbow Collection: No Place Like Oz, Dorothy Must Die, The Witch Must Burn, The Wizard Returns, The Wicked Will Rise (102 page)

“You said you knew about me already,” I said to Nox. “Back at Glinda’s palace. What does that mean? Does it have something to do with your—Order?”

“We have eyes everywhere, including in the Emerald City,” he said. “We’ve known about you for a long time. You’re part fairy, Jellia. It’s why Glinda thought she could use you to tap into Oz’s magic.”

“But how could I be part fairy?” I asked.

“It’s not common,” Gert countered, “but it’s certainly possible. Why do you think your magic is so powerful? You’ve always been different, and you know that.”

I struggled to process what Gert was saying. I did have stronger magic than most—I knew that. But how could this be? How had I never known?

“Did Ozma know?” I said finally.

“I’m sure she did,” Nox said. “Anyone with enough magic can recognize your power, Jellia.”

“Why didn’t she ever tell me?”

“Ozma has always had her own reasons for doing what she does,” Glamora said. “The fairies aren’t like the other citizens of Oz. They literally
are
Oz; their magic is Oz’s magic. If she didn’t tell you, it was because she felt it was for the good of Oz. But everything is different now. You have to learn the extent of your powers if you want to help send Dorothy back to the Other Place and heal Ozma.”

“You’re not any better than Glinda,” I said, hurt surging up in my chest. “You only helped me out because you think I can do something for you.”

“Not because you can do something for us,” Mombi said curtly. “Because you can do something for Oz.”

“I know this is difficult, dear,” Gert said, her gentle voice countering Mombi’s gruffness. “But these are desperate times. We’ve protected you because you’re special, it’s true. But you have the power to help us heal Oz—to bring Ozma back and restore the rightful order. You can’t choose who you are. But you can choose what you’ll become.”

“But I don’t even know how to use my magic,” I said. “I never even knew what I was. How can I help you?”

“Nox is our eyes and ears in Glinda’s palace,” Gert replied. “And you can do that work for us in the Emerald City. No one is as close to Dorothy as you are.”

“And Glinda hasn’t told her about your magic,” Glamora added. “As far as she knows, you’re just as ordinary as anyone else in Oz—if anyone in Oz can be said to be truly ordinary.”

“If Glinda recognized me as part fairy, why hasn’t Dorothy? She has magic, too,” I pointed out.

“Dorothy doesn’t have magic of her own,” Gert said. “All her power comes from those infernal shoes of Glinda’s. Dorothy is learning how to use that power for her own ends, but for now Glinda can still control her.”

I sat for a moment, digesting what they’d told me. “You’re asking me to risk my life when I don’t even know what you’re trying to do,” I said finally.

“That part is simple,” Mombi said. “The witch is going to burn.” Everyone else at the table fell silent. Mombi slapped her hands on the table and heaved herself to her feet, trundling around the table to where I sat. “Listen, little girl,” she said, grabbing my chin and forcing me to meet her eyes. “You don’t think much of us now, and I can’t blame you. I know more about your life than you think. I know what you’ve seen and I know how much Dorothy and Glinda have hurt you. Not just you—your friends. I know you remember what it was like to live in a free Oz. We might not look like much, but we can do it. We can make Oz free again.”

Her tone was gruff, but underneath her harsh words there was something almost sympathetic.

As if she could sense me softening, Mombi continued. “We’re asking you to risk your life, sure. You know that. You’re not stupid. But your life is already at risk, every day you work for Dorothy. Glinda’s already figured out she can’t use you in her machine. You’re no more use to her. Do you really want to be Dorothy’s head maid for the rest of your life? This is your chance, Jellia. It’s your chance at something better. We’re not going to pretend it’s not risky. But Oz deserves better—and you have the power to help.”

Her grip on my jaw was firm, but when I met her eyes again they were full of compassion. “I know,” she said, so quietly I didn’t think the others at the table could hear her. “I know how much you want the real Ozma back. In that, if nothing else, we’re together.”

I jerked away from her grip, and she let me. She took a few steps backward, put her hands on her broad hips, and stared at me. They were all watching me now.

“I need some time,” I said.

“We can give you a few minutes, but that’s all,” Gert said. “We can bewitch the Munchkins who were tasked with taking you back to Dorothy so that they won’t realize you were gone, but the longer you’re here, the harder it will be.”

“Fine,” I said. Without another word, Gert led me back to the cavern with the healing pool and left me there.

FIFTEEN

I sat staring into the pool as the soft slap of Gert’s bare feet on stone faded away. A pale pink mist had formed over the water, which was now an opaque, rich blue and smelled of honeysuckle. I had no idea how long I’d been sitting there when something in the air changed and I realized Nox was sitting beside me. He’d come up behind me and sat down so silently I hadn’t even noticed.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice, looking at the water.

“Why did you join them?”

He was silent for a long time. “It might not seem like it,” he said at last, “but you’ve been protected in the Emerald City from the truth of how evil Dorothy is. Glinda has been trying to tap into Oz’s magic for a long time, and Dorothy is helping her. It’s not just that machine—Glinda’s been digging mines deep under Oz, looking for ways to pull magic out of the earth. The Tin Woodman’s soldiers have been kidnapping people and using them as slave labor.”

I thought of the rumors that had swirled around Dorothy’s palace ever since Ozma had changed. The stories of Munchkins going hungry, of the winged monkeys turning evil. They hadn’t just been stories, then. “That still doesn’t explain how you got here,” I said.

“The Tin Woodman’s soldiers burned my hometown to the ground when I was just a boy,” he said quietly, not looking at me. “They tried to take all of the adults, but everyone fought back. No one was left alive—except me. Mombi rescued me and brought me here. She raised me to be a fighter. I owe the Order my life.” He looked up at me. “But it’s more than that. More than just gratitude. I believe in the possibility of a better Oz, Jellia. I
have
to. I won’t let Glinda and Dorothy keep destroying our country. And if I can avenge my parents’ deaths—well, so much the better.”

I searched for the right words. “I’m sorry,” I said simply, though it hardly seemed like enough. “I didn’t realize.”

He shrugged. “You didn’t know. But now you have to decide, Jellia. Will you help us?”

“I’ve already made up my mind,” I said, and his face fell. But as soon as the words were out of my mouth, Gert materialized next to me in a little puff of purple smoke.

“I knew we could count on you, Jellia,” she said, her voice full of pride. She wrapped me up in a big, soft hug, and after a moment I returned the gesture. I could see Nox’s confused expression over her shoulder.

“You’re not the only one who wants to see the real Oz restored,” I said to him, and his face was transformed by a real, full smile.

Gert released me from her embrace and I found that I missed her comforting warmth as soon as she did. I hadn’t had much mothering in my life. “Down to business,” she said briskly. “I’m sorry to be curt, my dear, but we haven’t much time. We must return you to the meadow where Glinda left you, and Nox has to get back to Glinda’s before she notices his absence.” She paused, smiling at me. “Welcome to the future of Oz, Jellia. We’re proud to count you among us.” When she put it like that, I couldn’t help but be a little proud of myself, too.

After that, there wasn’t much else to do. Mombi, Gert, and Glamora assembled in the pool cavern to see me off. Glamora waved her hands, and my soft white robe was replaced with the tattered, bloody dress I’d been wearing when Nox brought me to the cavern. Glamora waved her hands again, and bruises sprang up painlessly across my skin. I poked one cautiously; it didn’t hurt at all, but it sure looked convincingly gory. “Just a glamour,” she said. “They’ll fade eventually, like real bruises.” I looked down at my ruined dress. I was really going to do this. I was really going to spy on Dorothy—and put my life on the line for the future of Oz. What was I thinking? Why had I agreed to this?

“Because you know Oz needs you, dear,” Gert said. I faced her and opened my mouth, ready to tell her I knew no such thing. But the words didn’t come. Instead, I thought of the tiny girl who washed dishes all day long in Glinda’s kitchen. I thought of Nox’s murdered parents. I thought of poor Astrid—how was she faring, back in the Emerald City without me to look after her? I thought of Glinda’s Munchkin cooks, so afraid of Glinda’s power they were willing to spy on the people who they should have been united with. I thought of Ozma, and how things used to be. I cared about them, all of them. I cared about their chance for a better life. For freedom. I cared because they deserved it. I took a deep breath and adjusted my dress so that it looked even more askew.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said. Gert smiled.

“You’re very brave, dear,” she said. “Very, very brave.”

Hopefully, I wasn’t about to be very, very dead.

Gert took my hand and put it in Nox’s. His grip was cool and reassuring. Gert took his free hand and Mombi took mine. The last thing I saw before the cavern disappeared was Glamora’s face, a haunting mirror image of Glinda’s, her big blue eyes looking deep into mine.

We rematerialized in the meadow where Glinda had left me, next to the Scarecrow’s machine. It was night, just before dawn; overhead, the constellations of Oz gleamed like gems in the lightening sky. A handful of astounded Munchkins huddled around the machine, gaping at our unexpected arrival. Gert marched over to them briskly; I could see the air shimmering with magic around her upraised hands.

“Listen, Jellia,” Nox said, and stopped, searching for the right words. “Good luck,” he said finally. “Be careful.”

“You too,” I said. He nodded again and then, to my surprise, he gave me a brief, fierce hug. Without another word, he turned his back on us and loped off into the darkness.

Gert walked back toward us with the Munchkins trailing after her, blinking and dazed. “It’s time,” she said. “Be strong, Jellia. We have faith in you. We chose you because we knew you could do what we asked of you. Not many people are that brave.”

“Or that stupid,” I said.

Mombi grinned and patted me on the back. “Don’t get killed, kiddo.”

Gert turned to the Munchkins. “You remember nothing,” she said gently, and they nodded as one with their mouths open. She smiled at me. “Good-bye, dear. And good luck.” The witches’ outlines wavered, and I watched as they shimmered and then disappeared with a pop, like a bubble bursting. That was it: I was on my own.

The Munchkins were looking around them as though they’d just woken up from a dream. One of them caught sight of me and stood up a little straighter. “You’re alive,” he said slowly. “We’re to take you back to Dorothy, if you’re alive. To the Emerald City.”

I took a deep breath. “What are we waiting for then?” I said. “It’s time to go home.”

COPYRIGHT

THE WITCH MUST BURN
. Copyright © 2014 by Full Fathom Five, LLC. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

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