Yellow Brick War (2 page)

Mombi and Glamora quickly conjured up a silk tent that, fragile as it looked, kept out the dust and the relentless Kansas wind. I hadn't seen much of Glamora lately, and her resemblance to her sister Glinda startled me all over again when I first saw her in the gentle glow of the strands of lights she strung up inside the tent. In a flash, the memory of the time I'd spent with her in the Order's underground caverns came flooding back: her lessons on the art of glamour, her love of beautiful things, and the intense determination in her face when she told me about what Glinda had done to her. She'd nearly lost that first battle with her sister, and I knew how badly she wanted to bring Glinda down. But it still shocked me how close to impossible it was to tell the sisters apart. I'd seen more than enough of Glinda in action for her sister's face to creep me out a little, no matter how much I knew Glamora was on the side of the Wicked. The thing I needed to figure out now, I was realizing, was how much the
Wicked were on the side of
me
.

I tried getting Mombi, Glamora, and Gert to answer my frantic questions, but they ignored me as they bustled around our temporary home plumping cushions and pulling dishes and silverware out of thin air. “What just happened?” I hissed at Nox. He gave me a helpless look, and I wanted to smack him.

“There was too much to tell you, Amy. You know the Order has always had to keep secrets to survive.” I shook my head in disgust. When had anyone ever told me the whole truth? I'd thought I could trust Nox at least. Clearly, I'd been wrong. I was furious. More than that, I was hurt. Nox and I weren't just soldiers who fought together anymore. My feelings for him were way more complicated than that—and I'd thought he cared about me.

“Amy, talk to me,” he said. “Please.”

“Forget it,” I snapped.

Glamora being Glamora, she'd also summoned a Pottery Barn's worth of beautiful, soft carpets, heavy throw pillows, decorative tapestries, and a big antique-looking wooden table where the witches were conjuring up a meal. I remembered the handkerchief that Lulu had given me—the one that had created Glinda's version of the same tent. In some ways, the sisters were uncannily alike. Glamora's special touches even included the same votive candles and arrangements of flowers as Glinda's. I wondered, not for the first time, how two people so alike could have possibly turned out so different. Were there other ways the sisters were similar? I'd thought foolishly that I'd been safe in
Glinda's tent. Maybe Glamora's was just as dangerous.

“Amy,” Glamora said gently, “why don't you come get something to eat?” I ignored the expression on Nox's face as I turned my back on him and followed her to the table. What did he expect from me? The silk of the tent rustled and I knew he'd slipped outside, which made me even angrier. It was bad enough that he hadn't told me what was going on. But refusing to face me afterward? That was worse.

Mombi, Gert, and Glamora were already sitting around the table over plates of food. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten, but I wasn't hungry.

“How can you just sit there?” I exploded. “How is Gert still alive? What just happened back there? What are we doing in Kansas, and how do we get back to Oz? This
is
Kansas, right? Is that why I can't use magic?” Mombi put down her fork and looked at me.

“You can't use magic?”

“No,” I said. “Not here. It's just . . . gone, somehow. But that's not the point. You owe me answers.”

Gert sighed. “You're right, it's probably time.”

“It's way past time,” I said.

Gert chuckled. “That's my girl. No beating around the bush, our Amy.”

“I'm not anybody's girl,” I said. “I'm tired of being jerked around. You obviously know a lot more than I do about what's going on here.”

“That's not entirely true,” Gert said. “But I do understand
your confusion, and I'm sorry you feel hurt. I know all this has been difficult for you.”

“It would be a lot less difficult for me if you would just tell me what the hell is going on!” I yelled. I'd been through so much, and still hadn't managed to kill Dorothy. Tears started to fall and I cried. I cried because Nox, possibly my only friend, probably wasn't such a great friend after all. I cried for poor Polychrome, who'd I'd watched die trying to fight Glinda, and I cried for her dead unicorn. I cried for Star, my mom's pet rat, who the Lion had swallowed whole in front of me. I cried for all the friends I'd lost already in this stupid, senseless, never-ending yellow brick war. And maybe, just maybe, I cried a little for myself, too. When I was done I lifted my tearstained face to find Gert, Glamora, and Mombi looking at me with eyes full of concern. I'd doubted them all, and for good reason. I was more than tired of doing other people's dirty work. But maybe they really did care about me.

“You done?” Mombi asked, gruffly but not unkindly. “Because we have work to do, kid.”

“I'm sorry,” I said, embarrassment already beginning to replace my outburst of emotion.

Mombi waved a hand at Gert. “Tell her what she wants to know so we can get on with it,” she said.

Gert looked at me questioningly, and I nodded. “Okay, let's start with the easy question first. You asked how I'm still alive,” she said. “The truth is, I never died.”

If that was the easy question, I couldn't
wait
for the hard
ones. “But I
saw
you,” I said. “I saw you when you died, right in the middle of the first battle I ever fought.” I pushed back the gruesome memory of my first meeting with the Lion and his awful animal army. Like a lot of things that had happened to me in Oz, it was something I never wanted to think about again. “I saw you fight the Lion, and lose. It happened right in front of me.”

“You did see that,” she agreed. “And I did lose, there's no doubt about that either.” She shuddered briefly and closed her eyes as if in pain. I wasn't in a mood to be sympathetic to the Order, but it was hard to stay mad at Gert. It was like holding a grudge against your grandmother for accidentally burning your favorite cookies. “But witches are very, very difficult to kill,” she went on, opening her eyes again. “Even in a battle like that one. I'm honestly not entirely sure what happened to me when the Lion defeated me. The best guess I can come up with is that Dorothy's magic is weakening the boundaries between your world and ours. When the Lion won, everything went dark for me for a long time. It was as though I was wandering through some kind of shadow country.”

“The Darklands?” I interrupted, and Gert looked surprised. I realized that the first time I'd used my magic to find my way into that spooky, desolate parallel universe was after Gert died—or didn't die. Whatever. Gert didn't know I knew about the Darklands.

“She can get there, too,” Mombi explained curtly. Gert nodded.

“Your magic has grown considerably since last I saw you,
Amy,” Gert said. “Anyway, no—I wasn't in the Darklands, I don't think. There's a lot we don't know about that place. As far as I know I was here, in this clearing, the whole time.”

It took me a second to realize she meant Dusty Acres. “You were in the trailer park?” I asked.

Gert looked confused. “I don't know what that is,” she said. “But I couldn't leave this area, no. I'd start out in one direction and somehow, without even realizing it, I'd be exactly back where I began, no matter how far I walked. I couldn't touch anything—no matter how far I stretched, everything was just out of reach. I didn't see any other people—not so much as a bird or a beetle.” She looked sad and incredibly old. “It was awful,” she said gruffly. “It took me a long time to regain any strength, and I'm still much weaker than I was before. But eventually, my magic was strong enough for me to get a message to Mombi and Glamora. They used the breakdown between the worlds to join me here. We had some idea the Wizard would try to use you to open a portal back to Kansas, and we knew the doorway would be in this place, so we came here to wait for you.”

“You knew the Wizard wanted to kill me—to use me to open a portal back to Kansas—and you didn't stop him?” I asked angrily.

“Gert was next to useless,” Mombi said bluntly. “I'm pretty weak myself. The three of us weren't strong enough to stop the Wizard outright. But we knew if Nox joined us and completed the circle, we'd be powerful enough to defeat him
and
Dorothy.”

“Wait, back up,” I said. “What circle? Does this have to
do with what happened out there?” And if they were powerful enough to defeat the Wizard and Dorothy with Nox helping them, why had they ever needed
me
in the first place?

“You already know about the balance of power in Oz,” Gert said, and I remembered her uncanny trick of reading minds. “Oz depends on magic to survive, and no one person can tap too heavily into it without harming Oz. That balance is part of what the Order was trying to maintain. There have always been four witches—one each in the North, the South, the East, and the West. But that balance has been out of whack since Dorothy's first visit to Oz, and it's even more out of line now. When Dorothy's house killed the Wicked Witch of the East, she opened up a vacuum that no one was strong enough to fill.”

“I still don't understand,” I said.

“We've been trying to defeat Dorothy by fighting one battle at a time, but that's like trying to put out a forest fire by hauling water in a bucket,” Mombi said. “The Order has been scattered across Oz. Half the soldiers you trained with back in the caverns are dead. Others . . .” She shrugged. “We know where some of them are, but we're too spread out to do any good anymore. What we did out there”—she waved vaguely at the ruins of the place where I'd lived since my mom slid into her downward spiral of addiction—“was make Nox into one of us. The Wicked Witch of the East, essentially.”

“By restoring the Quadrant, we're finally strong enough to kill Dorothy,” Glamora said. “We had all our hopes pinned on you—”

“But I can't kill Dorothy,” I said slowly. “Because we're
linked somehow. So you have to do it yourselves.”

Mombi nodded.

“Not to mention the fact that Dorothy just teleported herself back to Oz and we're stuck here.”

Mombi nodded again.

I sighed and put my head in my hands. I was getting
really
sick of witches. “If you knew all along that you could make Nox into one of you, why didn't you do it sooner? Why didn't you
tell
me?”

“Because once Nox is bound to the Quadrant, he's in for life,” Gert said. “There's no hope for him to ever be anything else. We didn't tell you—he didn't tell you—because we hoped it would never come to this. We're older than you can imagine, Amy, and for us the sacrifice is—well, it's done. There's no going back for any of us. But this is a terrible fate to wish on someone as young as Nox.”

“He can never live a normal life,” Glamora said quietly. “Like us, he's responsible now for the future of Oz. He can never have a family. Grow old like an ordinary person.”

“Fall in love,” Mombi added, with a significant look at me.

“He can fall in love,” Gert corrected. “He just can't do anything about it.” She paused. “Of course you still have a place with us, if you want it. But we're in Kansas, Amy. We'll find a way to get back to Oz. And once we're there, we can defeat Dorothy without you. You can go home.”

Home. I could go home.
It struck me suddenly that I was in Kansas—and I could stay here.

Home was something I hadn't thought about in a long time. I didn't know what Oz was to me anymore. When I first got there, I had thought it was a place where I could finally belong. A place where I had found friends. Then it had become something else entirely.

But had Kansas ever been home either? What was I going to go back to? My mom was gone—who knew if she was even alive. I hadn't exactly been Miss Popularity at Dwight D. Eisenhower Senior High. The trailer where I'd lived with my mom wasn't a place I ever wanted to see again—and even if I did, it was long gone. Home might not be Oz, but it sure wasn't the empty, ruined landscape outside the tent the witches had conjured up. And I'd been through so much in Oz, seen so much, that I couldn't even imagine going back to a normal life. I'd learned how to do things I hadn't even known were possible in a completely new world I hadn't known was real. I'd battled some of the most terrifying enemies imaginable. I'd flown with monkeys, hung out with royalty, killed Dorothy's baddest minions. What was I going to do next, get a job at the mall?

“It's up to you, Amy,” Gert said, reading my mind again and pulling me back into the moment. “You don't have to decide right now. But you do need to decide if you want to help us get back to Oz.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. “So we're not stuck here forever? What's your plan?”

Gert sighed. “It's not going to be easy,” she said. “Even with Nox as part of the circle now, we're not powerful enough to open
a portal back to Oz. The Wizard was only able to do it because he had the magical gifts he'd given to the Lion, the Scarecrow, and the Woodman.” I tried not to think about that last, awful glimpse of the Wizard exploding into blood confetti as Dorothy twisted his spell. “But we do have an idea.”

Of course they did—yet another top-secret plan they only decided to clue me in on when they felt like it? I sighed, and Gert gave me a sympathetic smile. “Okay, let's hear it,” I said, settling back into a pile of Glamora's cushions. They even smelled heavenly—like the way the makeup counter at a mall smells, kind of glamorous and relaxing all at once.

“You remember Dorothy's shoes,” Glamora began.