“This was the first safe place we could think of, so we teleported you here,” Glamora added. “The palace is abandoned; the Winkies are gone, the Woodman’s dead, and it’s not a likely place for anyone to look for us. But it won’t be long before Dorothy and Glinda figure out where we are. We can’t hide forever from their magic.”
I waited for them to tell me what a good job I’d done in finding the shoes, but Mombi wasn’t done tearing Nox a new one.
“You know better,” she snapped at Nox. “This isn’t a game. You disobeyed us in the Other Place and you’re disobeying us now.”
“I thought we were equals now as members of the Quadrant,” Nox said matter-of-factly. Had Nox ignored their orders in Kansas in order to watch over me? That would explain why he’d shown up out of nowhere at the school. I darted a glance at him but he wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“You have a responsibility to Oz now that is far greater than anything else,” Mombi yelled. “Is that somehow unclear?”
Mombi was the most pissed I’d ever seen her, and that was saying something. Nox looked like a little kid who’d gotten busted stealing cookies as he jumped to his feet, apologizing in a babble.
“I know, Mombi,” he said. “I’m so sorry. You’re right.”
She was still looking at him like he was a piece of something rotten she’d gotten on her shoe. “Do you take the Quadrant seriously or not, Nox? There are others who could take your place.”
There were? I glanced at him. He looked startled. If there were other witches who could take Nox’s place, maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. Maybe he could just . . . retire. Maybe we had a chance at being together.
Stop it, I told myself. I was behaving like I was back in high school. This was way more important than my feelings—or Nox’s.
“I will do my duty,” he said quickly, not looking at me. I couldn’t help a flash of hurt at how easy it was for him to give me up, but I told myself to quit being such a baby.
“We believe you, Nox,” Gert said, much more gently than Mombi. “I know this is difficult for you.” She looked at me. “We must all sacrifice for the greater good,” she said, and I felt certain her words were directed at me. “Amy, you’re badly hurt,” she added. “You need the healing pool, but I’m afraid we don’t have that luxury here. Hold still, please.”
I could feel the warmth of her magic spreading from her palms and flowing through me. I could sense it probing outward into my arms and legs. At first it felt good, like getting a really great massage.
But you know how there’s always that moment during a massage when you’re like okay, that’s enough? Gert crossed that line, and then some.
I yelped in agony as her spell wrenched my bones and muscles, shoving them into place and knitting them back together. It felt like my entire body was being squeezed through a tiny keyhole.
Just when I thought I couldn’t endure the pain a second longer, it stopped. I wiggled my fingers cautiously, and then moved my arms and legs. Gert had done it again. I was still bruised, worn out, a little angry, and a little sad. But I was here, and I was alive.
The source of the birdsong chirped again, and I looked down to see a little yellow frog regarding me with bright eyes and trilling merrily. “Singing frogs?” I said. “How did I miss those?”
“The singing frogs of Oz are indigenous to Winkie country,” Glamora said.
“We’ve got more important things to talk about than frogs,” Mombi growled. Nox glanced at my feet, and I followed his gaze to where the silver boots gleamed softly on my feet. The events of the past few days came flooding back. Madison. Dustin. The Nome King. Dorothy. My mom.
“Why are we at the Woodman’s palace?” I asked. “And where’s Dorothy?”
“Come on,” Mombi said, beckoning. “Let’s have this conversation inside.”
NINETEEN
The Winkies’ palace was actually pretty gross. What did I expect, I guess, considering that its previous tenants had been the Tin Woodman, and before him, the Wicked Witch of the West.
It basically looked like the palace had been sacked. Dusty tapestries hung crazily from the walls, and most of the doors were splintered as though they’d been kicked open. Here and there, the floors or walls were stained with something that looked suspiciously like blood. All of the furniture was overturned or broken. Mombi waved a hand as we entered the palace’s banquet hall, and an invisible hand righted a few chairs and arranged them around a table.
I flexed my fingers, feeling my own power tingle to life in response. Whatever had happened to my magic in Kansas, it was back now. And it felt different in a way I couldn’t explain. The shoes, I thought. The shoes were doing something to me, that much I was sure. But was that a good thing or a bad one? And could I even use magic anymore without it turning me into Dorothy?
“First things first,” Mombi said. “We don’t know where Dorothy is. We’re assuming she went back to the Emerald City as soon as she returned to Oz, but we have no way of knowing yet. And we have to move fast before she figures out we found a way back ourselves.” She turned to Glamora. “It’s time to summon the rest of the Wicked,” she said, and Glamora nodded in agreement. “The Nome King is moving against Oz, and now we have three enemies to deal with. All our old plans are off the table. This is a whole new ball game.”
The final confrontation with the Nome King came flooding back. “The Nome King wanted me to come back to Oz,” I blurted. “He said that Dorothy wasn’t useful to him anymore but that I might be.”
Mombi and Gert exchanged glances. “I don’t like the sound of that at all,” Mombi growled.
“Is it possible . . .” Glamora trailed off and the witches stared at each other.
“Glinda brought Dorothy back to Oz,” Gert said. “We’ve assumed all along that she’s been orchestrating Dorothy’s return to power in order to put herself behind the throne. But if she’s been working with the Nome King . . .”
“Or under his control,” Mombi said quietly. “We have no real idea how powerful he is. He can move back and forth between Ev, Oz, and the Other Place. He’s wanted to take power in Oz for centuries.”
“Centuries?” I asked.
“He’s very, very old,” Glamora said. “Some say he’s even older than Ozma’s ancestor Lurline, the first fairy who came to Oz.”
Magic’s dangerous for outlanders. You’re not built for it. Nox had warned me what felt like a lifetime ago, when I’d begun my training in the secret underground caverns of the Wicked. “Dorothy’s not useful to him anymore because Oz’s magic has corrupted her,” I said. If Dorothy’s magic was so destructive it had transformed her from the sweet, innocent girl who’d written about her chickens and her dog into the bloodthirsty, insane tyrant she was now, what was it going to do to me? Because as soon as I started thinking of her as a real person, it was easy to see how much like me she had once been. The Nome King had told me I was stronger than Dorothy, but Oz’s magic had already turned me into a monster.
Gert nodded, reading my mind. “That settles it,” she said. “You can’t use magic any longer, Amy. It’s too dangerous.”
“But how can I fight without magic?” I protested. “You’re the ones who trained me. You made me into what I am. You want me to just pretend none of that ever happened?”
Nox had been quiet as we talked, but now he spoke up. “It’s not worth it, Amy,” he said. I remembered the conversation we’d had what felt like months ago but had just been a few days. If Oz’s magic turned me into another Dorothy, the Quadrant would have to kill me. And I knew Nox would do it, too. He’d see it as an act of mercy—and it would be. I thought of what Dorothy had done, and shivered. I’d rather die than end up like that. But how could I protect myself in Oz if I couldn’t use my powers? I had Dorothy’s shoes, but what if using them again was just playing further into the Nome King’s plans?