The Librarian (Book Two: Unhappily Ever After) (8 page)

Wesley appeared behind her. "Actually, we had a slightly different plan." He looked at Taylor. "You get it?"

"Yeah," she said. "We're good to go."

Taylor brought her hidden hand into view. Her fingers were wrapped tightly around the magic wand from the Oz display.

Hope looked stunned. "What do you think your doing?"

"We're going back," Wesley said.

"No you're not!" Hope couldn't believe it. The gall of these kids! She tried to snatch the wand from Taylor's hand, but Tay pulled away before she got close.

"You said this was our fault!" Taylor exclaimed. "Now we're gonna fix it."

"Or you'll make it worse."

Wes quickly spoke up. "Have you flipped through a copy of
Oz
this morning? I don't think that's possible." His backpack was sitting atop a stack of books on the library's marble floor. He removed the copy the librarian had given him then handed it over.

"I thought Randy Stanford won this."

"Not really," Wesley said. "It's a long story."

He was going to say something more but decided against it. Something made him think she had said Randy's name with an air of familiarity, but he was sure that was just his imagination running a little wild.

"Fine," Hope began. "Let's pretend I let you go back. What then? What are you going to do?"

A lump raised in Wesley's throat. It was the question he was hoping no one would ask. He'd come to the library hoping the librarian could help them, but the librarian wasn't here. Now it was on him. He knew they had to return to Oz, but he had no idea what to do once there. After all, how can you stop ripples on the water's surface once someone's thrown a rock into the pond?

"Well," he began tentatively, "I'm a writer... well... I'm going to be, at least."

"Wesley's a writer," Taylor said proudly. "A great one."

He smiled. It was just the boost he needed.

"Get to the point," Hope snarled.

"You said it best," Wesley answered. "A story is like a puzzle. You need someone who can look at the pieces you've got and figure out how to put them back together."

"And you think you can do all that in eighty-eight minutes? Because that's all the time you've got. You stay longer than that, and you're coming home to something a lot worse than you found last night."

Wesley frowned. He'd forgotten about that.
 

"How long has the librarian been gone?" Taylor asked.

"Yeah?"

Hope blew out a breath of exasperation. "You know what? You two are on a need-to-know basis. Okay? Just... go do your homework or something."

"If he can break the rules—"

"So can we," Taylor finished.

"And if Locke knew
about
the rules—"

"Maybe he knows a way
around
them."

They started toward the Neverland display. Hope watched them, convinced the whole thing was an elaborate ruse to trick her into revealing more than she wanted.

Wesley took Peter Pan's dagger from the display. He tossed it from one hand to the next, feeling its weight, checking its balance.

"You think it will be hard to find him?" Wes directed his question to Tay but knew Hope was listening.

Hope tried to interrupt. "Hey!"

"I don't know," Taylor answered. Both children were ignoring the woman's intrusion. "We'll have to see where the portal leads."

"Hey!"

The kids turned. Wesley looked at Hope over the top of his glasses. Taylor put a hand on her cocked hip. This time
they
were the ones acting impatient, as if Hope had worn out her welcome and no longer had anything to add.

"Fine," Hope huffed.

They had her. Hook, line and sinker.

"There are amulets. Each librarian has one. They allow you a chance to visit the storybook worlds longer if needed. You know? In case something like
this
happens. Your Lost Boy friend wouldn't know about them. Only a few of us do."

"And you're one of the few?"

Hope didn't answer. Taylor wanted to see how long she would allow the question to hang in the air, but Wesley pressed on.

"What do the amulets look like?"

Hope began to fidget. "I don't know."

Taylor fixed Hope with a skeptical stare, but Wesley was beginning to reflect on their meeting with the librarian the night before. He had been so disappointed when a bookmark was the only thing waiting for him in the book he'd won, but he was beginning to think he'd found something more.

Wesley used his thumb to pull the long silk cord from under his shirt. He continued pulling on the cord until the metal bookmark hanging from his neck appeared from inside his collar and fell across his chest.

"Does it look like this?"

The color drained from Hope's face. "Where did you... I thought..." She couldn't finish. Then, all at once, Hope stepped toward Wes, a hand out, as if ready to snatch the amulet from his neck. "Give me that!" she demanded. "You shouldn't... you don't..." Her words trailed off again, and she stopped short of Wesley, quickly realizing she was about to go too far.

Hope pulled a chair from one of the library's long tables, sat down and buried her face in both hands.

"What's wrong?" Taylor asked.

Wesley answered for her. "He's been gone too long. He can't come back without this, can he?"

Hope didn't respond. She didn't have to.

"You want to go back with us?"

AFTER BONES JOINED them again, Douglas led his trio along the canyon's edge until they came to an ancient rope bridge that traversed the chasm before disappearing into the canyon's thick mist. They crossed carefully, the old footbridge swaying with every step they took.

When they finally reached its end, Randy saw the bridge had led them to the foot of a towering staircase that spiraled up the rock face toward the castle perched above them. The stairs were nearly vertical, each tall step carved from the strange rock formation the castle sat upon.

Randy was breathing heavily just minutes into their climb. His thighs were on fire; his calves felt like they were made of lead. An hour later, when they finally arrived at the summit, he wasn't sure he had any energy left.

Douglas stopped, giving his son a chance to rest and providing himself an opportunity to measure what lay before them.

A worn path led from the landing atop the stairs to the castle just fifty yards away. As intimidating as it had seemed from afar, the castle wasn't nearly as threatening from their current vantage point. Built of roughly-hewn stone, one might even draw comparisons to Astoria's library. Its security was simple, nothing more than a sentry in the tower to keep watch and two guards on either side of the castle's drawbridge entry.

"I expected more," Douglas said. "Wait here."

Randy didn't want to be left behind with Bones but didn't question his father's direction.

Douglas slowly began to meander the path leading to the castle's gate. He had only covered half the distance when the sentry in the tower spotted him. "Look! There!"

The guards began to scramble, arming themselves with long spears before starting toward Douglas. Both were wearing leather armor and strange caps made of fur.

"No beggars! Turn and go the way you came!"

"I'm not a beggar," Douglas explained. "I don't want food. I'm here seeking an audience with the Wicked Witch."

One of the guards had a crooked nose. He leveled his spear at Douglas. "Her Highness isn't to be called
Witch
, outsider! Not anymore!"

"I'm sorry." Douglas bowed his head. "I misspoke."

"Clearly!"

"But that
is
why I'm here."

"You're a brave one, outsider. No one comes to see Her Highness. She comes to see
you
! And pray she never does!"

Douglas stared back at them.

"Turn and go." The crooked-nosed guard pointed the way with his spear. "We'll forget this happened."

"Open the gate," Douglas demanded. "Open the gate and lower the bridge. Now."

Randy watched the guards exchange a dumbfounded look.

Without a word, the crooked-nosed guard lunged toward Douglas with his spear raised.

Randy darted up the path. "Dad!"

Douglas didn't respond, his eyes fixed on the attack. As soon as it was within reach, he deftly guided the spear away, pulled a pistol from beneath his jacket and sent two rapid-fire shots into the guard's chest.

Randy stopped, staring in disbelief at the weapon in his father's hand. Everything slowed to a near halt as the unfamiliar roar of gunshots echoed through the countryside. The wounded guard stood motionless, staring at the bloody wounds in his chest as if they were the most alien thing in the world. The spear dropped from his hand, and he was next, falling to the ground in a heap beside his weapon.

With that, the world started spinning again.

Randy stumbled up the path toward his father.

The sentry in the tower called for help.

The other guard hurried to his companion's side and examined the fatal wound. "Wha... wha..." The guard was trembling so violently that the metal accents on his armor were jangling.
"What have you done?!"

"I told you," Douglas said. "I've come seeking an audience with Her Highness." His eyes narrowed. "Maybe
you'll
take me to see her...
your Witch
."

TAYLOR STOOD OUTSIDE the Tinman's cabin. Her throat felt like it was closing up. While she had expected the worst, nothing could have prepared her for the wasteland that was waiting for them upon their return. This wasn't the Oz she and Wesley had visited. It was her nightmare come to life.

Her gaze fell on the spot in the meadow where she and her mother had met their demise in her dream. As if offering an eerie welcome, a wolf howled in the distance.

Taylor shuttered.

"You okay?" Wesley asked.

She answered with a slight nod and a deep breath.

They moved on together, hurrying to catch up with Hope who was walking into the meadow ahead of them. Wesley saw Hope was working the tiny keyboard on a smart phone with her thumbs, typing as they went.

"Do you even have a signal?"

What?" It was another one of those questions that seemed to catch Hope off guard. "Oh," she stuttered. "It was worth a try, right?" She quickly shoved the phone into her pocket.

"I guess," Wesley shrugged.

Hope gestured for them to move ahead. "Okay? This is your show, guys. Lead the way."

Both kids were hesitant to take the lead but did nonetheless. They found the dirt path they'd used the day before with relative ease, but it was amazing how the woods had changed since their visit. Every tree was bare, long branches reaching into the air like the bony fingers on a skeleton.

The three followed the path on its corkscrew through the dead forest as early evening shadows stretched across the land. Taylor and Wes were both quietly hoping they would find the old woman's cabin before darkness fell, but it wasn't looking good. The sun was descending quickly, and as the shadows grew, blinking eyes began to appear in the tree trunks all around them. It was the exact opposite of what one might expect. Oz was waking up as the sun went down.

Taylor checked their surroundings as the trees began to stretch like groggy children waking from their slumber. They began to talk amongst themselves as they noticed the humans walking through their forest.

"They don't belong," a tree with white bark murmured.

"Yes they do," another yawned. "I've seen that ugly, little girl in this forest before."

Taylor cringed.

"The boy is frail and weak," another continued. This tree sounded like a wise, old owl that had been granted the gift of voice. "He won't survive the night."

"Watch the woman walk," another slurred. "She looks delicious."

Hope quickened her pace. They all did.

"You sure you know the way?" Hope asked, trying to catch her breath as they climbed the hill.

"Yeah," Taylor whispered. "Let's just hope they're still here."

"What?" Hope whined.

 
"We didn't exactly free the Tinman thinking he would go back to the old woman's house. We were doing it so they could
get away
."

"From what I hear you weren't thinking at all?"

"What are you talking about? Heard from who?"

Tay shot Wesley a confused look, but he wasn't listening. They'd just crested the hill. His eyes were fixed on the valley below.

"We're back," he said solemnly.

The old woman's cabin looked just as it had before. Everything was exactly as the kids had left it. They passed the well where they'd hidden with Locke. Wesley spotted the Maiden's axe near the chopping block where she'd labored until her fingers bled. It was amazing how familiar things felt, as if this was the one part of Oz that had gone untouched by the evil that had taken over.

The warm glow of yellow light filled the cabin's windows. "Someone's home," Hope said. "Who's going up?"

Taylor and Wes traded a nervous look and quietly decided they would climb the porch steps together. When they did, the cabin's door crept open with a loud creak before either had an opportunity to knock.

"Hello?" Wesley pushed on the door and slowly stepped into the cabin.

"Wes?" Taylor whispered.

Flickering candles were scattered throughout the cabin. A neatly made bed stood in the corner. A sitting area occupied the space near a window on the opposite side of the room.

It was a cozy home, and yet, despite a roaring fire in the cabin's cobblestone fireplace, it felt oddly cold. Something wasn't right, and Taylor was pretty sure it had something to do with the woman sitting on the floor with her legs crossed. Her face was hiding behind a curtain of crinkled grey hair. There was a wooden toolbox on the floor beside her. She had a pile of clunky, metal parts in her lap. There were more parts piled on a table nearby, but Taylor paid them little mind.

Taylor stepped forward. "Ma'am?"