Yellow Brick War (17 page)

When I opened my eyes, I was standing on a golden road in the middle of a jungle. Dorothy and Nox were gone. The sun filtered down through a green canopy of leaves. Birds sang in the branches, and the trees around me dripped frothy masses of green moss. The air was as warm as bathwater. The road beneath my feet looked like the perfect version of the Road of Yellow Brick; it was smooth and seamless, made out of some translucent material that caught and held the sunlight that made it down through the trees to the forest floor.

“Welcome, Amy,” someone said behind me. Startled, I turned around.

“Ozma?” I asked in surprise. But I quickly realized the creature in front of me, though she looked almost exactly like the fairy queen, was someone else. Her face was Ozma's, youthful and pretty. Her bearing was Ozma's, too, in her clear moments: regal and serene and confident. A pair of golden wings fluttered
from her back. But her eyes were a stranger's. Unlike Ozma's green eyes, hers were the same pale gold as the road and far, far more ancient than her face suggested. The depths of wisdom and compassion in that unearthly golden gaze were startling. She practically radiated peace. For a while, my mom had been really into Amma, a Hindu guru who could transform people's lives by hugging them. I got the same feeling from the fairy in front of me.

“Ozma is my great-great-great-granddaughter,” she said, holding out one hand to me. “I am Lurline, the creator of Oz. Come, Amy. Let us walk a little while.”

Bemused, I took her hand, and she led me down the golden path. “But Dorothy—” I began.

Lurline smiled. “Dorothy will still be there when you return, child. We are in a time outside of time now. She cannot touch you here.” Ahead of us, water glinted through the trees and as we approached, I realized that it was a spring. Like the road, it was somehow a more beautiful version of the pool I'd jumped into. The water was clear and pure and depthless. On the far side of the pool, two trees had grown together to form a kind of bench carpeted in soft green moss. Lurline indicated for me to sit, and then tucked in her golden wings and sat down next to me.

I leaned back into the warm embrace of the branches that supported my back. The moss smelled delicious, warm and earthy. The bench was unbelievably comfortable. I could have fallen asleep in the dappled sunlight and stayed there for a hundred years.

Lurline picked up a wooden cup that rested on the ground beside the bench, scooped a cupful of water directly out of the spring, and handed it to me. “Drink,” she said.

I didn't realize how thirsty I was until she said the word. I took a cautious sip of water. It was delicious: cool and crisp and incredibly refreshing. A soothing feeling spread through me as I drained the cup. My aches and pains faded away, and my thoughts cleared. I felt as sharp and fresh as if I'd slept for a week.

“Are we in heaven?” I asked.

Lurline laughed. Her laughter was like the sound of the wind in the trees, beautiful and wild. “No, child. You are in a place between your world and Oz. After I brought magic to the Deadly Desert and created the land of Oz, I traveled to this place. All fairies come here when they are ready to move on from the mortal world. But I look in on Oz from time to time.” She gestured toward the pool. “My spring is a window between worlds.”

I frowned and looked down at my feet, still battered and bloody in my new magic boots. “Did Dorothy's old shoes bring me here?”

She raised her eyebrows, like she thought I was being very silly. “You brought yourself here, didn't you?”

“Yes, but . . .”

She raised a slender finger. As she touched it to her red lips, I found that I had been silenced. As hard as I tried to speak, I couldn't.

“The spring has judged you,” Lurline said. “And it has
judged you worthy of standing here before me. I cannot interfere directly in the matters of your kind. I did not say you were without flaws,” she added with a smile, as if she could read my thoughts.

She looked troubled. “I am afraid you cannot rest here long, Amy. But I want you to listen well.”

I nodded.

“The magic of Oz is not safe for people from your world. It has driven Dorothy mad, as you know.”

She nodded in response to my unasked question. “It will drive you mad, too, if you let it,” she said with a sigh. “All things will continue in their own way, but if Dorothy succeeds in tearing everything apart, the creatures of Oz
and
the Other Place will perish. I do not wish this to come to pass. And you have more to worry about than just Dorothy.” Her voice was still gentle, but it was terrifying, too. I had the feeling that anybody who tried to make something come to pass against Lurline's wishes didn't fare well.

She laughed her musical laugh again, and I realized she
could
read my thoughts.

“You mean the Nome King,” I said, suddenly able to speak again. She nodded.

“I do. Even I cannot entirely guess at the game he plays, but I know he wishes to use you and Dorothy as its pieces. And very likely Ozma, too. I'm afraid your work in Oz is not yet done. I can see the pain in your heart, child, and I am sorry to ask more of you. So much rests on your shoulders. Especially when not all
of your companions wish the same healing for Oz that you do.”

“What do you mean?”

She shook her head. “I cannot see that far; only that you must be careful. Trust in yourself, but do not place your trust easily in others. You are very strong, Amy—strong enough to defeat Dorothy, possibly strong enough to defeat even the Nome King. But not in the way that you think. The most obvious way is not always the right path.”

She was making about as much sense as Ozma. I wondered if anyone in Oz had ever given any question a straight answer. She put a hand on my shoulder.

“I know this is difficult for you,” she said. “You have suffered much, already, and you still have not learned to know yourself. Dorothy is blinded by her own pain and anger. Take care that you do not walk down the road that she has chosen. I cannot promise you a future without harm, but know that I am watching over you. You have drunk of my spring, and that is no small trifle. And you have my shoes.” She gestured at the diamond-studded boots with one elegant hand.

“
Your
shoes?” I gasped. “But I thought they belonged to Dorothy.”

She smiled. “Dorothy had them for a while, yes. But they belong to the fairies. They are made from our magic. They will serve you well if you trust in their power.”

I had so many questions. But she shook her head and held a finger to her lips. “All in good time,” she said. “The way is cloudy now, but soon I think we will be able to see the path again.”

She reached up to her neck and undid a thin silver chain, drawing a pendant out of her dress and handing it to me. “This, too, you will find useful,” she said.

I looked at the necklace. The pendant was a pale golden jewel, made of the same material as the road. The harder I looked at it, the more I thought I could see movement in its translucent depths, as if it were filling with smoke. I felt as though I were falling down a long, golden tunnel.

“Be careful,” Lurline said at my side, and I snapped back to the present. I made as if to fasten the necklace around my neck, and she shook her head. “It is not for you, but for another. You will know when the time is right to put it into the proper hands.”

I tucked the necklace into my pocket instead. Lurline stood up and held out her hands to me. “And now I must send you home, dear child.”

“To Dorothy,” I said, standing up.

“To Dorothy,” she agreed. “But to many brighter and wonderful things as well. To the living, breathing world. To a boy who loves you, if I am not mistaken.” I turned bright red and she giggled. But then a look of longing flashed across her face. “There is a part of me that envies you, to be returning to the living, breathing world. Think of me when you go into the mountains,” she said softly, her gaze far away. “When you look out over the blue valleys to the far horizon, say my name that I might see them, too, through your eyes. And remember as in all of us, it is only your capacity for wickedness that makes selflessness possible.”

“But you still haven't told me how to defeat Dorothy.”

“Dorothy is connected to you, Amy. To find that answer, you must look within yourself.”

I almost rolled my eyes, and then I remembered Lurline could read my thoughts.

She smiled again. “I have faith in you, Amy. You have done well. I will help you as much as I can. I will hear you when you call me. Be strong. There is more power aiding you than you know.”

She let go of my hands, and the world around me began to fade. As if I was switching between TV stations, Lurline's world tuned out and Oz tuned back in. Nox's outline, shadowy at first, solidified. There was a roaring noise in my ears that I soon realized was Dorothy's storm. I was dripping wet. And Dorothy, still glowing with that terrifying red light and hovering off the ground with her arms outstretched, was screaming into the howling wind.

I could still see Dusty Acres through the swirling clouds; Dorothy's magic was tearing up the earth as giant cracks spread across the landscape. A huge strip of ground peeled up and was sucked up into the maelstrom.

Nox was trying to distract her with fireball after fireball to no effect. “Welcome back,” he said grimly, dropping his hands in exhaustion. Another chunk of earth flew up through the rent in the floor and hit the ceiling of the cave with a thud, showering us with dirt and rocks. Dorothy cackled in delight. I grabbed Nox's hand, calling on the power of my silver boots. Nox caught on immediately, slowly feeding his magic into mine. I leaned into our combined strength and opened myself up, deciding to just let the magic of the shoes flow through me.

I could somehow see through the dark water of Lurline's pool to the other side, where Lurline waited. I could see the clock, suspended between Oz and her world, drawing her
magic into itself and funneling it to Dorothy. I could see Kansas as Dorothy tore it apart. I could see Lulu, back at the Woodman's palace, holding Ozma's hand as they walked through the ruined gardens. Melindra, digging a grave for Annabel as tears rolled down her face. I could see my mom, holding Jake's hand and crying. I could see Mombi, Gert, and Glamora, fighting desperately outside the Emerald Palace. Mombi was badly wounded, and Gert was pale with exhaustion. I knew instinctively that they couldn't hold out for much longer. I could see the end of everything I cared about, everyone I loved.

And I could see Dorothy, connected to the clock with a thick line of magic that fed her more and more power, like a leech bloated on the blood of its unsuspecting victim. She was pulling all the magic out of Oz and into her own body. But it was too much for her. She hung suspended in the current, her skin beginning to smoke and blacken, her eyes wide in pain and fear, the red heels pulsing with awful red light. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, magic pouring out in a torrent of sparks. Any second now the power of Oz would tear her—and us—apart.

You know what to do.
This time it was Lurline's voice instead of the Nome King's that I heard inside my head. And I did—I did know what to do.

Nox and I reached forward, moving as though our two bodies were combined into one. I felt Lurline's magic surging through us, giving us strength. We took hold of the cord binding Dorothy to the Great Clock and I staggered backward as the full force of Oz's magic lashed out at me. It was like trying to hold on to
a lightning bolt. The diamonds on my boots glowed white-hot, anchoring me to the stone floor.

NOW
, Lurline shouted, her voice echoing through my head and ringing out across the cavern. With all the strength we had, Nox and I yanked backward. The cord of magic snapped loose from Dorothy's body, whipping around the cave. The clock pulsed with emerald-green light. And then, as if it could no longer contain its own power, it exploded into a shower of glittering fragments.

The shock wave rocked the cavern and sent Nox and me crashing to the floor. The window to Kansas shut with the sound of a thousand doors slamming. Dorothy fell to the ground with a sick thud and lay there unmoving.

“Now!” Nox gasped, doubled over in pain. “Do it now!” Without thinking, I reached for my knife and immediately felt its reassuring solidity in my hand. I sprinted past the pool to where Dorothy had fallen. Her body looked as though she'd been burned alive. Her flesh was charred and smoking. Her hair had been seared away on one side of her head and her eye had melted in its socket, running down the bubbling, raw meat of her cheek. I almost gagged.

And then she stirred. Incredibly, horribly, she was still alive. She groaned, her fingers twitching.

It was time for Dorothy to die. I raised the knife over my head.

Take care that you do not walk down the same road that she has chosen.
Lurline's words flashed across my vision like a subtitle from a foreign movie. Suddenly, I remembered my first friend in Oz—Indigo, the goth Munchkin who the Tin Woodman had tortured to death in front of me. That had been my introduction to Oz: loss and murder. And I'd taken those lessons to heart. I'd learned to kill without remorse to protect myself and the people I loved.

But where had it gotten me? What had it done for me? I remembered what it had felt like to kill the Lion, to find myself covered in his blood. The way the monkeys looked at me in fear. Glinda's dead-eyed girl soldiers. All the life I'd taken wasn't saving Oz, or even myself. Killing the vulnerable was Dorothy's way.

But it didn't have to be mine. I was done with murder. I wouldn't turn into Dorothy. I wouldn't let the power of Oz make
me into a monster. I was stronger than that.

I threw my knife to the cavern floor and it vanished in a puff of oily smoke.

“Amy?” Nox said, coming up behind me. He was looking at Dorothy in horror.

“She used to be just like me,” I said, walking away from her. Nox followed me to the other side of the cavern. I thought of her aunt Em and uncle Henry. Dead now, like so many other people. “Someone's niece, someone's friend. She was just a farm girl from Kansas before Glinda got hold of her.” I looked him in the eye. “I don't want to become her, Nox. I can't kill her.”

Saying it out loud almost took my breath away, but suddenly, I felt a huge, incredible sense of relief. I'd admitted it. I didn't want to kill her. I didn't want to kill
anyone
anymore. I was done. Nox's eyes widened, and then his face softened and he reached forward and took my hand.

“Look at her,” he said quietly. “You
don't
have to kill her. Oz's magic took care of it for you. She's defenseless and she can't hurt anyone anymore. It's over.”

We'd done it. We'd defeated her. I sank to the ground in exhaustion. And then with a deep, terrible groan, the walls of the cavern began to ripple and crack.

Nox reacted instantly. “The palace is coming down!” he shouted, pulling me to my feet. I looked at Dorothy's motionless, rag doll body. Now that I'd decided not to actually kill her, I didn't know what to do with her.

“What about her? We can't just leave her here!” I cried.
A section of the roof collapsed with a roar directly in front of us, sending a shower of dust billowing in our faces. Coughing and choking, I looked across the cavern to where Dorothy had fallen—but the floor was covered with towering piles of broken rock.

“We can't save her!” Nox said, grabbing my arm. “She can't have survived that, there's nothing we can do.”

I let Nox pull me out of the room just as a giant piece of ceiling fell right where we'd been standing. In the hallway, I stumbled, almost bringing both of us to the ground.

“You have to keep going!” Nox urged, dragging me along. “We stop, we die.”

“I can't,” I gasped, tripping again.

“You have to,” Nox said grimly, refusing to let me go. The walls were crumbling around us as we ran down corridor after corridor. Beams crashed to the floor. The Emerald Palace was even bigger than I remembered. But Nox wouldn't let me stop. He wasn't going to leave me behind, no matter what—and I wasn't going to be responsible for his death, too.

Finally, we turned one last corner and I saw daylight. We'd come out into the front hallway of the palace, where big windows let in a view of the crazy sky. It was like all of Oz had gone insane.

A huge storm was raging, like nothing I'd ever seen before. Bolts of red lightning struck the earth with earsplitting cracks. Thunder boomed and orange sparks rained down from the violent yellow-green sky. With one last, desperate push, Nox and I
ran for the front door and tumbled out to safety as the ceiling of the main hall fell in with a crash of stone and timber. But Nox didn't stop.

“Keep going!” he yelled. “The whole thing is coming down! We have to get clear!”

The ground itself was heaving under our feet. Nox still refused to let go of me. I struggled after him, trying to keep my footing, and then made the mistake of looking back.

Towers were swaying back and forth, listing drunkenly as the Emerald Palace collapsed in on itself. Widening cracks radiated outward as the earth around it split apart. All around us Dorothy's overgrown gardens were wilting and turning gray before dissolving into dust. As I watched in terror, the cracks ran together into a single chasm, impossibly deep. “Nox!” I screamed.

“I see it!” With one final effort, Nox pulled me to safety as the Emerald Palace crumbled into the gaping abyss. The rift shuddered and then sealed itself. The rain of fire dissipated and the lightning stopped. A gentle breeze sprang up, pushing the gray-green clouds across the sky and scrubbing it clear. With a last, almost sheepish clap of thunder, the storm vanished, leaving behind a clear blue sky and a cheerful yellow sun. Behind us, a bird chirped tentatively and then burst into full-fledged song. My knees buckled and finally, mercifully, I collapsed. Nox fell beside me in the grass, still holding my hand.

Groaning, he propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at me. His dark hair was thick with dust, his face smeared
with a mask of blood and dirt. His clothes were filthy. He'd never seemed so beautiful. “You know what?” he said. “Never mind the Order. I'm falling in love with you, too.” He leaned in to kiss me.

And that, of course, was when Lulu showed up.

“Well, this is a hell of a bunch of bananas,” groused the monkey's all-too-familiar voice. “I always said the Emerald Palace could use a good redecorating, but nobody was suggesting razing it to the ground.”

Nox groaned aloud and flopped over on his back. “Hi, Lulu,” I said tiredly, sitting up.

“And what have you done to yourself? You look like a monkey's hind end,” she continued, looming over me. Ozma was standing behind her, gnawing meditatively on her thumb. Lulu was decked to the nines in true Lulu form, sporting her cat's-eye rhinestone glasses, a sequined motorcycle jacket, and a leather miniskirt decorated with appliqués of tropical fruits.

“What are you doing here, Lulu?” I asked.

“Helping, obviously. And let me tell you, you need it. I was just twiddling my thumbs in the Woodman's palace, playing checkers with Ozma and watching Melindra mope around. Nothing restores the spirits like a little action, I tell you what. Grabbed some of my monkeys and flew us all over here while you were sitting around on your heinies, apparently. Or did you actually do anything besides demolish the heart of Oz?”

“Nothing much,” Nox said, still prone on the grass. “Just defeated Dorothy, restored order to Oz, and survived the
collapse of the Emerald Palace. How does the city look?”

“Terrible, what do you think?” Lulu snapped. “It's been in ruins for weeks. There are bodies everywhere.” And then she stopped short. “Did you say you defeated Dorothy?”

“The one and only,” I confirmed.

“The bitch is
dead
?” Lulu's jaw was literally hanging open. “Oz is free? You did it? You really did it? You killed her?” She hopped up and down excitedly. “Why, we're going to have a party to end all parties! The ball of the century! A banquet for the ages!”

“Party,” Ozma agreed happily. “Monkey party!”

“I didn't kill her,” I said. “But she can't possibly have survived the collapse of the palace.”

Lulu stopped short. “What do you mean, you didn't kill her? Did you defeat her or not?”

“I defeated her,” I said. “
We
defeated her. She tried to unleash the magic of the Great Clock but it almost destroyed her. There was no point in killing her. She's buried now under the entire Emerald Palace.”

“Are furless freaks all as stupid as you look? You didn't make sure she was kaput? Do you know how many of my monkeys are dead because of that little princess? Do you have any idea how much suffering she's caused? You had a chance to rid Oz of evil for good and you just
left
her there?”

“Lulu, the palace came down on top of her.”

Lulu shook her head. “You think that's gonna stop a bitch like her? That was probably our only chance, and you blew it.” She
snorted in disgust. “Trust a human to screw up the most important job in the kingdom. You should have let the monkeys handle it. I know how to finish what I start, even if you don't.”

“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.”