“We’ve had heavy casualties,” Mombi said grimly. “Lost a lot of the monkeys and most of our fighters. But the battle’s over now. Most of Glinda’s soldiers ran for the hills when Glamora took her out, but the monkeys are rounding up the remaining few.”
“What about Dorothy’s army?” I asked. Mombi scoffed.
“The survivors are helping the monkeys,” Gert said quietly. “They were enslaved by Dorothy’s magic, but they aren’t evil. Her magic isn’t strong enough anymore to control them from a distance. Most of them are just farmers and peasants the Woodman kidnapped and imprisoned before he died.” Her voice was full of sorrow. So much suffering, I thought. And none of it was necessary.
“No time for tears in a war,” Mombi said gruffly, “We’ll have to face Dorothy again, but we’ve got more pressing problems to deal with for the time being.” She hunched over the inert witch lying in front of us, holding out her hands to Nox and Gert. “Join the circle,” she snapped, and Nox and Gert obeyed, kneeling beside her. The three of them closed their eyes, holding their linked hands over the witch’s sleeping body. A soft, golden glow formed a cloud over the three cloaked figures. Mombi murmured a long string of syllables, and the golden cloud seemed to respond to her voice, gently probing the sleeping figure’s body and face. At last, Mombi let out a long sigh and released Nox’s and Gert’s hands, opening her eyes. There was a strange expression on her face that I didn’t know how to read.
“It’s her,” she said. “It’s Glamora. She did it. She won.” Slowly, the cloud sank into the sleeping witch’s chest, until she began to glow with the same yellow light.
“Rejoin us, sister,” Gert said. “Rejoin the Order. Rise with the Wicked.” The sleeping witch opened her eyes.
“Welcome back, Glamora,” Mombi said. “You defeated Glinda.”
TWENTY-SIX
After everything that had happened, I’d kind of forgotten about Pete and Ozma. We found them playing a game of checkers that Ozma had improvised out of pebbles and bits of armor in the Tin Woodman’s throne room, still in their chains. Nox leapt forward, and for a second I thought he was going to hit Pete in the face. Not that I’d have stopped him—although technically, I was the one who should have been punching Pete. He’d clocked me in the face before he’d summoned Glinda and gotten Polychrome killed.
“Checkers?” Nox growled. “Are you serious? People died out there.”
“I thought it was a good idea to keep her quiet and hidden,” Pete said miserably, glancing at Ozma. We all stood in silence looking at each other while Ozma burbled happily, moving around her rocks and bits of metal. Pete looked haggard and anxious. His green eyes blazed in his thin face and his dark hair was even shaggier. But Ozma looked perfectly serene. As Oz’s magic had returned, she’d had more and more flashes of clarity, and in the past there were moments where I had almost been able to reach through to her. I remembered the vision of her that Polychrome had revealed, serene and regal and powerful. But that Ozma was still lost somewhere and we had no idea how to bring her back.
“I’m sorry,” Pete said. “I can’t ask you to forgive me for what I did. But maybe you can understand. Polychrome was going to kill me. I didn’t have a choice.”
“You always have a choice,” Nox said. He was right. But somehow, I felt my anger dissipating as I saw the guilt and pain on Pete’s face. He’d always been a mystery, but he’d helped me so many times in Oz. Was what he’d done really so much worse than anything I’d have done in his place to stay alive?
“Leave him alone,” I said. Nox glanced at me, startled.
“Checkmate!” Ozma said happily, sweeping the checkers pieces off the board.
“Checkmate is in chess, Ozma,” Pete said gently, stooping to pick up the pieces. He seemed almost brotherly, with a protective note in his voice.
“Can you tell what she’s thinking?” I asked. Pete shook his head.
“The connection is completely broken. I don’t think she has any idea who I am.”
Nox tugged on my arm and leaned into me. “Why are you so willing to let him off the hook?” Nox asked in a low voice. “He betrayed us.”
“Glinda’s defeated, so he can’t betray us to her again,” I pointed out. “And somehow my spell separated Ozma and Pete permanently. If we don’t have a reason to kill him, he doesn’t have a reason to turn against us.”
“You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here,” Pete said, standing up as Ozma cheerfully set up the checkers board again. “Look, Amy’s right. I shouldn’t have summoned Glinda, but it was the only thing I could think of at the time that could have kept me alive. I had no idea she would kill Polychrome or destroy Rainbow Falls.”
“You could have done a hundred different things,” Nox said coldly. “Instead you got people killed. People like Annabel. Polychrome would still be alive.”
I sighed. “Nox, I don’t trust Pete, but I don’t think he can harm us anymore. Even if he could contact Dorothy, he doesn’t have any reason to.”
“Kindness can be a weakness, too,” Nox said, not taking his eyes off Pete.
“That’s not what you’ve been telling me,” I said. “All along, you said it was the thing that made me different.” I couldn’t say why I wanted to spare Pete. Nox was right: so far, kindness had done nothing but get me nearly killed in Oz. But if Oz’s magic was changing me into some kind of monster, maybe my willingness to forgive Pete was proof that it hadn’t swallowed me up entirely.
Relief flooded Pete’s face. “You mean you’ll just let me go?”
“Not so fast,” I told him. “I might be willing to keep Nox from killing you, but that doesn’t mean I want you around. You’ve been basically nothing but trouble since the day I showed up in Oz.”
“I saved you when you were in Dorothy’s prison!” he protested.
“That was a long time ago,” I said. “Anyway, you didn’t save me—Mombi did.”
At the sound of Mombi’s name, Pete grimaced. I knew there was no love lost between him and the witch who’d enchanted him in the first place. Mombi probably had motives of her own when it came to Pete, and I didn’t want to deal with them. My life was complicated enough as it is. “I want you to leave,” I said. “Like, now. For good. I don’t ever want to see you again. Is that clear?”
Pete looked at me for a long time, his dark eyes thoughtful. Once upon a time, I’d felt something for him. But that was long gone. Now he was just trouble.
“It’s clear,” he said finally.
“Good,” I said. I turned to Nox. “I can help you set them free. The shoes will protect me.” I sounded a lot more confident than I felt.
Nox looked like he wanted to protest, but he only nodded. He closed his eyes, raising his hands and resting them on Pete and Ozma’s chains for a second time. Whatever I’d told Nox, I didn’t trust the shoes completely yet. I’d leave the bulk of the magic up to him. But I knew he wasn’t strong enough to free Pete and Ozma alone.
Nox grunted with the effort of sustaining the spell. I put my hands over his, concentrating hard on my magic boots. Help me, I asked them. Help me help Nox. I could feel them respond, the magic within them humming to life. And I could feel Oz’s magic, too—the dark, dangerous pull of more power than I could handle, urging me to just let go, reminding me of how good it felt to be consumed by magic, transformed into an unstoppable monster. I concentrated instead on the shoes, willing the darkness to stay back. I could feel its disappointment as if it was a living thing.
Nox gave a final gasp, and Pete and Ozma’s chains shattered into harmless pink fragments. I slumped backward in relief. That was close, I thought. Maybe too close. Were the shoes on my side? Or was the feeling of safety they gave me some trick of the Nome King’s?