Dorothy Must Die (11 page)

I opened my mouth to protest, but all that came out was laughter. Everyone was surprised—no one more so than me. I tried to stifle it, but it had been so long since I’d found something funny, and soon I couldn’t control myself. It all came spilling out. The fight, getting suspended, my mother jetting off to her tornado party, the trailer lifting up off the ground and landing me
here.
I thought about who I was back in Kansas, and who I was in Oz. What had I done to make them think I was a potential teen girl assassin? I mean, I got suspended for
not
punching Madison Pendleton. I had maybe been responsible for Indigo’s death, but it was only because I’d been trying to save an innocent monkey’s
life.
Taking someone down off a stake in the ground was the opposite of taking someone out. This was madness.

Across the table, the witches just sat there staring at me like I was a crazy person while I laughed hysterically. The boy frowned so hard, his eyes turned into slits. Finally, after a few minutes, I managed to calm myself down and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.

“You want
me
to kill
Dorothy
,” I said. It was so ridiculous that I didn’t even know where to start.

“That’s the idea,” Glamora said. The look in her eyes said she didn’t think it was very funny at all.

I couldn’t believe they were being serious. “Um, I think you’ve got the wrong person. Before I got here, the last fight I had was with a pregnant girl. And I lost.”

“I saw you back in the palace,” Mombi said. “In your cell. You managed to hold your own in there. I don’t see why you couldn’t do the same with Dorothy.”

I had to admit, that was true. But I was still sure that the knife Mombi had given me had done half the work. And anyway: “That was different,” I said. “That was magic, I’m sure of it. But I couldn’t
kill
someone. I wouldn’t even know how.”

“We’ll teach you, of course,” Glamora said. “Everyone has to start somewhere.”

They were acting like we were talking about learning how to sew. This is not what I signed on for. When I had met Indigo on the road, I was just planning on making my way to the Emerald City and maybe getting one of those cool moving tattoos. This was way heavier than anything I expected.

“Listen,” I said. “I have my own problems. I’m sorry about what’s happening to Oz—I really am—but I don’t see what you think I can do about it. I’m not even
from
here.” I wasn’t from here. But even as I said it, a little part of me couldn’t help but feel that because of Indigo, because of Ollie, because of my time in the cell . . . I was linked to Oz somehow.

Glamora cocked her head. “Dorothy’s not from here either,” she said. “And look what she’s done with the place.”

Gert drove her point home. “It’s precisely because you are not from here that we think you can do this. You’re from the same place as her. You know how her mind works. You understand her.”

I wasn’t from here
. I was from Kansas. Just like Dorothy. I’d come to Oz on a tornado. Dorothy had changed their world once, and now they expected
me
to help them change it back.

“People from the Other Place have always had a special place in ours,” Gert said. “The Wizard. Dorothy. Now you. We don’t know what power it was that brought you to Oz, but we know that if you’re here, it must be because you have a role to play. We want to make sure it’s the right role.”

I shivered. The story was true.
The Wizard of Oz
had been real. Dorothy Gale had really been swept up by a tornado and brought to the Land of Oz. True, what I was living now didn’t seem like the kind of storybook tale I was used to. But it didn’t mean they didn’t exist.

For the first time, the boy spoke up. His voice was low and gruff.

“Gert, Glamora, and Mombi believe that you are our only hope.” He sounded like he wasn’t so sure about that. “My job is to train you.”

“Are you a witch, too?” I asked. It came out in a more confrontational tone than I’d meant it to, but I didn’t care.

The boy looked offended. “I’m a warlock,” he said drily. “Or a wizard, if you like that better. It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Gert looked over at him as if remembering her manners. “Amy, this is Nox. He’s the newest member of the High Council of the Order of the Wicked. He’s the strongest fighter we have.”

“Good for him. No offense or anything, it’s just, I’m not a killer. I’m not the girl you’re looking for here. I think it would be pretty amazing to know what you guys know. But you all have magic; you know what you’re doing. I’m sure you can handle her without me.”

I probably should have been scared of these people—they called themselves the Order of the Wicked, after all—but talking back to them felt good. Then again, lately I didn’t seem to be able to keep myself from talking back to anyone, really.

“You haven’t been trained yet,” Glamora said. “You don’t know who or what you are yet. Oz is different.
You
can be different here. You can be stronger. We’ll teach you how to do all of it. To fight. To use magic.”

“Amy,” Gert said. She placed a reassuring hand on my back. “We’re going to teach you to be a hero.”

Me. A hero. The idea of having power—of learning magic—rattled around in my head. But reality chased after it: missing Mom, scary Dorothy, a circle of self-proclaimed wicked witches who wanted to make me into an assassin. Besides, even if they could teach me all that stuff, it wouldn’t change who I was on the inside. Salvation Amy from Flat Hill, Kansas. Just a trailer-park girl with a bunch of stupid dreams that would never come true.

Weirdly, something my mom had told me once came back to me:
You are not where you are from.
She’d meant it to cheer me up. To make me believe that growing up in Flat Hill didn’t have to define me for the rest of my life.

But the witches thought I was special
because
of where I came from.

It’s more than that, child. Much more.

Gert was fishing around in my brain once more.

I looked at Nox again. He stared back at me and gave me a shrug like,
See if I care.
He was the only one—except me, of course—who didn’t seem thrilled about this whole idea. Even if I agreed with him, I couldn’t help taking it a little personally. What did he have against me anyway?

“What happens if I say no?” I asked.

“You
can’t
say no,” Mombi said. “The pact, remember?”

“I told you,” Nox said, not even bothering to look at me. “Just because someone dropped out of the sky doesn’t make them the key to saving us.”

What was wrong with these people? I felt my blood begin to boil. Nox turned to Mombi and shrugged. And that shrug is what put me over the edge.

“I’m in,” I said quietly.

Mombi looked at Gert, who nodded as if to say that my words were true. But they weren’t. I had to say yes to joining the Order—I didn’t seem to have a choice in that. I was bound by the pact I’d made with Mombi. But I was determined to find a way out of the whole teen assassin part.

And Gert knew it.

A few minutes later, Gert led me to my room. “We let Glamora decorate. Of all of us, she misses the creature comforts of Oz the most.”

My cave room wasn’t pretty—it was majestic. It was the kind of bedroom I’d always wished for growing up. There was a circular bed that seemed to be sunken into the center of the floor, piled with pillows and silky bedding in rich shades of red. And in the center of the ceiling, instead of a chandelier, there was another upside-down tree. This one was way smaller than the one I’d seen before. And it was in bloom. Black branches held out strange but beautiful poppy-like blossoms, big and white with a blush of pink almost the exact color of my hair. The pale gold walls were covered in wallpaper with those same pink flowers bursting across it. When I looked closer, I realized they were actual flowers. More tiny flowers grew along vines that stretched from the floor to the ceiling, stopping in the middle to swirl into paisley loops. Beneath my feet, a rug made from golden fur rippled.

“What happens now?” I asked. “You lock me in here until I agree to be your killer and actually mean it? Because I know that you know I didn’t.”

“No, we train you. I know that you aren’t ready, child. Just put one foot in front of the other. The rest will come in time.”

She sounded so sure. Like she knew something that I didn’t.

“And if it doesn’t?” What would they do to me if I didn’t do what they wanted?

“There is something you don’t know about being bound—we can’t hurt each other as long as we are in the circle. There is much to fear outside the circle, but you don’t have to fear that.”

I felt myself exhale and nodded slowly. Whether or not she was telling the truth, her answer would have to be okay for now. I just wished I could read her mind, too.

“No matter what, you’ll still be a witch.”

“But what kind?” I asked.

“Good question, child,” Gert said, slinking off into the dark.

I was standing in the middle of an all-white cave. Nox had led me there, then excused himself to change into clothes that he could better torture me in. I waited impatiently.

If I was being honest, the decor of this cave was kind of freaking me out—which was saying something, considering all the others I’d seen.

I stood barefoot on the skin of some giant animal I didn’t recognize. Maybe it was some magical Oz beast or something. A track of fire lined the ceiling, illuminating the cave. The white stone walls looked like some kind of stone—opal, I guessed—that shimmered with layers of other colors, depending on the light. White razor-sharp spikes jutted out around me like some kind of medieval climbing wall. Scattered around the room were strange iron machines that looked like either exercise equipment or torture devices.

Training with Nox was going to be fun.

I was already wearing the training uniform. It felt more like lingerie than athletic wear, with a silky tank top and pajama bottoms. The top was clingy and it had some sort of bra thing built in that made my flat chest look a little less flat. Say what you will about these witches, but they valued style.

Giant swings hung on opposite ends of the cave. Of all the places to sit in this cave, they looked innocent enough. I ran my finger along the seat of one and slipped into it. When I shuffled back with my feet, I realized the air was beginning to fill with smoke coming from the floor. I jumped up quickly.

The smoke began to take shape. Familiar figures materialized before me. I backed away, but there was nowhere to go. I was already pressed up against the jagged wall of the cave.

They must have followed me here, traveling through shadows the same way the Tin Woodman had appeared on the road when he found me, Indigo, and Ollie. I wasn’t going to stand back and let them take me away for a trial. I looked around wildly for a weapon and spied a rack with some kind of torture devices in the corner. I could only imagine what Nox had planned for us today. I stretched my arm out, but it was too far to reach. I inched toward it.

Dorothy’s pink lips pouted at me as she advanced. Her gingham dress, half formed, was just smoke and a hint of cleavage. But her face was there in all of its terrifying glory—and her laugh echoed in my ears even though her plasticky mouth didn’t move. The Tin Woodman stood a couple of steps behind her.

“Nox!” I screamed.

Before Dorothy could reach out one of her glinting red nails at me, Nox appeared in the entrance of the cave. Insanely enough, it looked like he was almost smiling.

“Help me!” I cried.

He walked right through the image of Dorothy, and just like that she disappeared. The Tin Woodman disappeared, too, and the ears and hair and tail that I assumed would have made up the Lion vanished with a growl. I was left standing in the white room, staring at Nox.

“
You
sure took your time!” I yelled.

“I just wanted to get your adrenaline going.” He smiled a cocky smile, rocking back on his heels.
He had done that?
Even as my anger rose up, I noticed despite myself how good he looked in his training gear. He was more muscular than I would have thought, biceps and quads and muscles I didn’t know the names of made up his—possibly magically enhanced—form.

“Why would you do that?” I snapped. “What is wrong with you?”

He just shrugged. It was turning into his signature move. I considered storming out, but my feet stayed rooted to the furry ground.

“
How
did you do that?”

“What I see in my head, I can project out into the space. But it only can last for a few seconds. I just meant to give you a scare, see how good your reflexes are.”

“I saw something like that on the road to the Emerald City. Queen Ozma was giving a speech—”

“Not the same thing, really. That was more of a capture.”

“A what?”

He leaned in close.

I didn’t move. I hadn’t exactly spent a lot of time alone with any guys. Tutoring Dustin hardly counted. And he wasn’t a witch or wizard or whatever it was I was supposed to call Nox. He was annoyingly—and maybe not so annoyingly—even hotter up close.

“Ouch!” I felt a pinprick of pain on my scalp as Nox leaned back, holding a strand of my pink hair. He pulled something out of his pocket, and folded it together with my hair in his fist.

“Memoria,” he whispered.

When he opened his hand, there was an emerald inside.

“This moment is now captured forever. There are emeralds like this embedded in the road. They’re meant to deliver messages, scare people, spread Dorothy’s decrees. Basically a way for the palace to keep us in line.”

He tossed the emerald on the ground. An image rose up from the stone, hazy at first and then snapping in focus. I was rolling my eyes at him. He was leaning in to pull my hair. But it almost looked like he was giving me a kiss.

The image disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

“So is
that
your superpower? Making people see things that aren’t there?”

Nox didn’t answer. He disappeared in a blink and reappeared beside me. “I can make them see things that are there as well. Like Mombi said, I’m a fighter. We should get started.”

When he moved into his fighting stance I noticed a speck of green paint in his black hair.

“What?” he asked, noticing my staring.

He must be Oz’s mysterious graffiti artist. The one tagging the frowny faces I’d seen in Munchkin Country.

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “I’m ready.” He was working really hard to put up the whole “fighter” front, but I wondered what else was there beneath the surface. What else it meant to be a boy witch.

“Liar,” Nox whispered with a mean glint in his eye. “Don’t worry. The spring will be able to heal you up when you break something.”

“I’d prefer not to get hurt in the first place,” I countered.

“Is wit highly valued in your world? You seem to rely on it.”

“Is being a total jerk highly valued in your world?” Sarcasm was how I survived back home. I wasn’t about to give it up now.

His gray eyes opened a little wider. “Your words will do nothing against her unless you can use them in a spell.”

I sighed loudly. If they wanted me to train, I would train. A few self-defense techniques would certainly come in handy around here. For that matter, they’d come in handy if I ever made it back to Dwight D. Eisenhower Senior High and had to face down a leaner, meaner, postpartum Madison Pendleton.

Still. Just because I was willing to learn how to fight, it didn’t mean I was going to assassinate anyone. I suspected Nox knew it.

“Why don’t you just give me one of those magical knife things and be done with it?”

“I could do that,” he mused, pulling a knife from one of his black boots and throwing it from one hand to the other. He tossed it in my direction, but I wasn’t fast enough and it fell to the floor with a clatter. I let it lay there, wishing I’d never said anything. “But you might drop it,” he finished with a smirk.

“I wasn’t ready,” I argued.

“Would you rather
have
the knife or
be
the knife? It’s that simple. And that hard.”

He opened his hand and the knife whizzed into it. I’d seen Mombi do the same thing before. He slid the knife back into his boot, then spread his arms out wide at his sides, daring me to punch him.

I curled my hand into a fist and took a weak, halfhearted swing at him. Nox hopped back and rolled his eyes. “Give me a break,” he said. “You have to
try
or it’s no fun.”

Before I could respond, Nox took his own jab at me, aiming right for my chin. I rocked back on my heels, barely getting out of the way in time, and then, without thinking about it, I hit back. For real now.

This time I connected square in the center of Nox’s chest. My fist hit a hard wall of flesh and muscle. My knuckles stung from the impact, but he didn’t flinch. It was like he hadn’t even felt it.

All he did was laugh. “All right,” he said. “Well, that’s something, at least. Now do it again. This time,
I’ll
try, too.”

I looked at the cocky expression on his face. I wanted to wipe it off, just to show I could. So I swung with all my strength and almost fell over from the momentum as he stepped easily out of the way. His smirk hadn’t wavered for a moment.

“Keep going.”

I kept punching, getting angrier and angrier with every try. Nox dodged each blow as smoothly as if I were moving in slow motion.

It took me until I was sweaty and out of breath to realize that something wasn’t quite right. Nox was more than just fast.

“That isn’t fair,” I said. “You’re using magic.”

“Of course I am. Lesson one: she’ll be using everything she has against you—and I promise it will be a lot more than I’m using right now.”

He had a point.

“Fine,” I said. “Then why are we even bothering at all?”

When he opened his mouth to reply, I took it as an invitation to hit him right in the solar plexus. His eyebrows shot up as his arrogant smirk transformed into a grin.

“Aha,” he said. “Lesson two: your fists aren’t your only weapon. Your
weapons
won’t be your only weapon either. Dorothy’s biggest vulnerability is her—”

I kicked him in the stomach with everything I had, and he went stumbling backward, his mouth wide with surprise. That would show him not to underestimate me.

But instead of retreating, or even slowing down, he came flying right back at me. This time I was ready for him. I ducked.

Over the next hour, Nox didn’t let up. He just kept coming at me, using his fists and feet and elbows and knees and everything else he had. The whole time, he never stopped talking—pointing out everything I was doing wrong.

And everything I was doing wrong was
everything.
The way I was standing. The way I was avoiding his gaze. The way I was holding my hands.

But for all I was doing wrong, there
was
one thing I was doing right. I wasn’t letting up any more than he was. I was aching and exhausted, but I kept going.

“Stay loose,” he said. I didn’t know how he had the breath to keep talking when he was moving twice as fast as I was. “Don’t waste your energy keeping your muscles tight. Don’t focus on where I am. Focus on where I’m
going
to be.”

Before the sentence was finished, Nox was gone. I spun around just as he materialized behind me, already ready for him, and caught him right in the jaw. Finally, for the first time, he flinched in pain. But before I could draw my arm away, he’d grabbed me by the wrist and held my closed fist against his face. I tried to pull free, but I couldn’t.

He just stared at me, his gaze intense. I couldn’t look away any more than I could move my arm. Energy crackled between us, and I felt a strange pull to him. Moth to flame. Magnet to magnet. Stupid girl to impossible, slightly mean witch boy. Wizard. Whatever.

“Close your eyes,” he said. “I want you to feel something.”

“I already feel something,” I said. “
Tired
.”

“Just do it,” Nox said.

So I closed my eyes and felt a strange, warm energy pulsing through my body, starting where my fist still touched his face and traveling up through my arm and shoulder into my chest. It wasn’t hot and it wasn’t cold. It was like nothing I’d ever felt before—including the time when I was little and I put my finger in a lightbulb socket to see what would happen. That had hurt like there was no tomorrow. Like the surge of electricity was killing every cell as it flowed through my arm. This was the opposite. This felt like every inch of me was waking up.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He let go of my hand and it dropped to my side, heavy as stone. “It’s magic,” he said.

Suddenly I felt a breeze. I opened my eyes.

We weren’t in the training area anymore. Instead, we were standing at the edge of a grassy plateau that jutted out from the mouth of a cave at the top of a mountain.

The sun was bright and perfect and the sky was brilliant blue with just the slightest tinge of lavender. I looked down over the edge of the precipice we stood on and caught my breath. We were don’t-look-down high. We were skyscraper-high. Not that I had ever been in one, but I imagined this is what it felt like. The drop between us and the treetops was dizzying. Below us was a vast expanse of wildness.

In the distance, fields and flowers gave way to a lush, dark forest. Farther on the horizon was a hazy, shimmering mountain range that blocked the rest of Oz from my view—mountains so high that their peaks were hidden by a thick veil of quickly moving clouds.

Everything was still and quiet. This was a different quiet from the creepy, dead quiet of Munchkin Country. This quiet was pristine and charmed and full of life. It felt like Nox and I were the only two people in an undiscovered world.

“How’d we get out here?” I asked. My voice came out in a whisper.

He looked at me like I was the dumbest person alive. “You have to stop asking those kinds of questions,” he said. “You know exactly how we got out here.”

Of course I knew. It was the same as the answer he’d given me before.