“He was ridiculous,” Ardie snorts, making me giggle more. “How would that even work?” he says, and I’m belly laughing again.
“Well,” Werelion starts, “it’s not impossible. It would depend on her… anatomy,” he finishes, growing timid and I guffaw again.
“Can we not, please?” Nick says with a shudder and quickens his pace, striding up ahead of us.
“Someone’s cranky,” Ardie whispers to me with a smirk on his lips.
“I marvel as to why,” Werelion says, laden with sarcasm, then snorts a laugh at his own little joke. I’m not sure I get it.
“Why?” I ask, and Werelion looks at me wide eyed as if I should know.
“He likes you,” Werelion murmurs so Nick can’t hear.
“Not as more than a friend. Believe me. He told me as much.”
“He did?”
“Yes, multiple times,” I say with a light laugh.
“Huh,” Werelion says, thinking it over for a moment, then he shrugs.
“He is heartless, interested in her body and nothing more, an insatiable philanderer who cannot help himself,” Ardie says, his voice low.
“That’s not true. He hit on me before he knew me. Now he knows me, and he just wants to be friends. He’s controlling himself just fine. He’s a perfect gentleman.”
“Does that bother you?” Werelion asks with a mischievous simper and a smile plays on my lips.
“A little,” I admit, and he giggles.
“Enough gossiping like twelve-year-olds. Pick up the pace,” Nick says from ten feet ahead of us, having heard every word. Chagrined, I blush and stop talking as I quicken my step.
The closer we get to the radiant city, the deeper it sinks in—my time with my three new friends will soon be over. In a matter of hours, I will go home to Kansas, and I will never see them again. Ardie will become a living man again and I won’t be there to share a meal of cooked food with him. The Werelion will get some of that courage from the Wizard’s pot and grow so confident he’ll become king of all the shifters. Nick will have a heart again and meet a lovely, charming girl to marry and start a family with. And I won’t be here to see any of it.
Even though I’ll miss them, I have to go home. I will not be a high school dropout, and I wanted to leave my aunt and uncle’s anyway, go to college in the east, or abroad even, travel the world, meet all different sorts of people. Yes, that takes money I don’t have, but I want to.
There are so many things I never got to try. Life doesn’t have to be boring in my realm. Plenty of adventures are there waiting for someone to have them. I always planned on being one of those people who has those adventures. They may never be as adventuresome as my time here, but they can still be remarkable experiences, and they won’t involve the undead or shifters or vampires trying to feed off me. There’ll be no witches or wizards or munchkins or blood everywhere. Just living human beings, some nice and kind, some not nice or kind at all, perhaps even monstrous in their cruelties, but they will still be just humans, and as far as I can see, that’s a huge plus. My realm is where I belong, and my three dear friends belong here in this bizarre place.
Although this is how it must be, I’m grateful to have come here, that I got to know them, and that I got to be their friends. I will remember them and this place forever. It will haunt my dreams and my nightmares for as long as I live.
By the afternoon, we come to the great wall that surrounds the City of Emeralds. It’s high and thick and bright green, and at its center is a green crystal door studded with deep green emeralds that glitter in the sun. The glinting of the jewels and the effervescing mist that rolls off the rampart and over the surrounding land is so bright, even heartless Nick’s brilliant green eyes dazzle.
There is a large emerald button in a copper setting beside the door, so I push it. A silvery bell tinkles.
Nick turns to Ardie and says, “Please do not start in with how Dorothy killed the Vampire Witch. Let me do the talking,” and Ardie scoffs at him.
“The Wizard needs to know so he will not turn us away.”
“People resent it when you elevate your status above theirs as though you are so important they mustn’t dare deny or cross you. It only makes them want to show you your place.”
“I do not do that,” Ardie says, offended, his chin rising in indignation.
“You do though.”
“I do not.”
“Yes, you do.
“That’s absurd.”
“You did with Ellis,” Nick reminds him as the door slides open.
We all pass through into a high arched room with glinting walls covered in countless emeralds. Inside, before another grand doorway with a large emerald button, stands an old man with long white hair and a long white beard. He’s a touch taller than a Munchkin and wears ornate copper rimmed green goggles with all green clothing from his hat to his shoes. Elaborate shimmering green swirls and glittering green shapes decorate his face. The lines are meticulous and I wonder if he did it himself. It takes a painstaking eye and a very steady hand to create that look.
At his side is a large chest that glints in the light, so many tiny emeralds set close together on the chest’s covering it looks as though it’s painted with emerald dust. Amid the pavé, faceted emeralds and polished cabochons with engraved copper settings intermingle in intricate mandala-like emblems, each stone positioned with exactitude. Decorative copper corners, edges, and hinges with ornate embellishments of whirls and stars border the trunk while stamped copper filigree and rosettes frame the glittery mandalas.
“State your reason for visiting the Emerald City.”
“We came here to see the Great Wizard,” I tell him. His eyes widen and he says nothing, stunned silent.
“It has been many years since anyone asked me to see Oz,” he says after a long pause, shaking his head in perplexity.
“Oz, did you say? Because we’re here to see the Wizard. I’ve seen enough of Oz already.”
“Oz is the Wizard’s name as it is the name of the lands. Another sign of how great his power is,” Ardie tells me.
“Oz is the most powerful and terrible. If you come on an idle or foolish errand to bother the wise reflections of the Great Wizard, he might become incensed and destroy you all in an instant of fury.”
“Ours is not a foolish errand, nor an idle one,” replies Ardie; “it is important. We must see him. And it is said that Oz is a good Wizard.”
“So he is,” says the green man. “Wise and scrupulous, he rules the Emerald City with his greatness and his magic, striking fear into vampires, keeping the undead in line,” he says, looking right at Ardie. “For those who are dishonest, or who dare to approach him from curiosity, he is the most terrible. Few have ever dared ask to see his face. The Wizard does not take well to audacious bluster, and neither do I.”
“Lucky for us you’re just the doorman,” I snap, shocking myself. Why did I say that?
“There is a rule of this city. Face me, and only then may you dare to lay your unworthy eyes on him. Perhaps you would like to turn yourselves around and go before it gets worse for you,” he says, making his threat clear.
Fury swells in my throat and I do my best to fight the words struggling to break free from my lips because they won’t help us. “Are you going to let us through or not?” I blurt, and although it’s nowhere near as bad as what I wanted to say, my body still goes taut with bellicose tension, and my eyes still narrow, shooting daggers at him.
“Very fine. Wait here. I will notify him you have come demanding to see him,” he says, a smug smirk on his green sparkle face.
Possessed by my boots, I reach over and smudge his makeup with my index finger. I look at it, pressing my thumb to my finger and rubbing the greasy glitter paint between the pads. When I look up, I see the large smear I made on his surprised face.
“You got a smudge, twinkles,” I say, pointing at it with the lazy finger that’s covered in the makeup I smeared.
Why did
I do that?
With a humph, he turns toward another small door on the opposite wall, but before he can step through, I say, “Tell him Dorothy is here to see him, sent by Gayelette the Slayer Witch. She said he could help. I killed the Vampire Witch of the East when I arrived in this realm. These are her boots on my feet.” Why am I speaking? Why can’t I shut up? They’ll never let us in now.
His eyes widen behind his green goggles before he slips away through the door, leaving us in the brilliant emerald room.
“Wonderful. They will leave us locked in this room forever,” Nick says with a groan and sits down on the floor as if he knows we will be in here for too long.
“Forever?” Werelion says with worry etching its course onto his fuzzy face.
“No, they will not,” Ardie grumbles.
“They will leave us here a very long while, hoping we might leave. I suggest you get comfortable,” Nick sighs.
“I’m sorry, guys. I don’t know why I acted like that or said those things.”
As I take a seat against the emerald wall, I let out a sigh. The moment my back touches the stone, a warm, soothing energy flows into me and oscillates, finding rhythm with my breath. It’s empowering, revitalizing, and my body relaxes, my breathing evens out, and I let it take me over.
Power pulsates through me. The clouds of gray that roil inside me—the cyclone of discontent and fury that took root long before one swept me away—fade as confidence and wrath take its place. A force permeates me, and I feel stronger than I have ever felt, like I could crush all my enemies with a single flick of my finger.
An ease washes over me, and I know from somewhere deep inside me that there’s nothing to fear. No matter what, it will be fine. Oz will see me, and I will get home. If I have to scale the walls of this city, so be it.
Unlike the magic of the boots, the feeling this emerald wall gives me as I lean against it is magical, powerful, but it’s still me, not an object using me as a puppet.
“Those boots are controlling you. The way you broke his adornment…” Nick says and shakes his head. “You do not know the significance of this because you are not from here, but your boots do, and it was bold. Bolder than you intended to be.”
“Dorothy, is it true you did not know?” Ardie asks.
“What, that he was wearing makeup? I think it was obvious with that glittery paint all over him.”
“It is a symbol of his status, his rank, and you broke it, sullied it. It was a direct insult,” Nick explains.
“Great,” I groan and sigh.
“Those boots know it. They are controlling you.”
“It’s true. I was willing myself to shut up, but I couldn’t. I held back though. Not enough I guess.”
“You need to get those boots off your feet.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” I snort, and Nick huffs out a laugh.
We fall into silence as we sit and wait. Ten minutes pass before Ardie groans, growing impatient.
“Small, enclosed spaces make me feel like I can’t breathe,” Werelion says, his brows drawn together, clutching his knees to his chest as he sits on the slick emerald floor.
“That is unfortunate, for I expect we will be here a while,” Nick says, sitting up against an emerald pavé column that sparkles behind him. He sits back getting comfortable, raising his elbows and leaning his head back into his clasped hands, a perfect picture of resignation. I follow his lead and stretch my legs out before me as I lean back on the rough emerald wall.
An hour passes, and another. Perhaps more. Ardie distracts himself by playing with Toto, Werelion focuses on his breathing, Nick pretends to sleep, and I focus on trying to contain my anger. This is so rude. Fine, so I was rude to him, but I have magic boots and I killed an evil vampire witch. He should be afraid of me. He doesn’t know I’m not a sorceress. Everyone else thinks I am. And this guy just leaves us in here for hours? No. Disrespectful and plain rude is what he is.
Before I know what’s happening, I’m up on my feet storming over to the door to the city. When I’m a few feet away, I stop, reel back, and kick it. Hard. Nick’s eyes shoot open as I kick it again.
“Dorothy,” Ardie gasps.
“I can’t take it anymore! How dare that little glittery dickhead leave us here this long without a damn word,” I growl out, kicking the door again and again as I say it, each bang louder and more resonant than the last, vibrating the room we are in. I don’t know if they can hear it on the other side of this wall, but I kick the door again anyway.
“Open this door!” I yell, my voice echoing off the emerald walls of the tiny room they’ve stuck us in. “Ugh!” I roar in frustration, startling Werelion, and he cries. “I’m sorry, Werelion,” I say and let out a frustrated breath, trying to calm down, but it’s not working.
Nick leans back and closes his eyes again, unbothered. It’s annoying as hell.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” I snap, staring straight at him. He opens his eyes and looks at me. “Wake the hell up and do something about this. Oh, and lose the smug attitude. We all know you said not to say anything, but I did, okay? My boots control me. Ooh,” I say, losing my composure altogether. “I’m evil now because I have evil footwear that makes me say stupid crap. Fine! Doesn’t change the facts of the situation.”
“And what facts are those?” Nick asks, his voice even, and just enough hint of an I-told-you-so it pisses me off even more.
“That we’re sitting in a ten by ten room for the rest of our lives,” I shout at him, and he holds himself back from laughing in my face. My eyes narrow at him as I go for the door we came in through. Nick sits up straighter.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“To scale this wall, find another way in, something,” I say and press my hand to the button, hoping the door will slide open, but it doesn’t. I do it again. Nothing. Again. Still doesn’t budge. We’re trapped.
“It won’t open. They’ve trapped us in here,” I growl, charge the door to the city, and kick it again. This time a prismatic light scintillation bursts from where I make contact, shaking the wall. The ground rumbles as the wall shudders. Werelion bawls as I kick the wall once more and the rumble reverberates through the entire room. Everything quakes. Distant screams muffled through the wall reach my ears as Nick shouts and Toto howls.
“Dorothy! Stop!”
What am I doing? I step back and still myself.
After a moment the quaking stops and the screams fade. Nick and Ardie let out a sigh of relief. Werelion’s bawling sobs taper away to whimpers. Toto quiets and I take deep breaths to calm my overwhelming frustration.
The door to the city bursts open and the Guardian of the Gate charges in, an enraged sneer on his glittery face.
“What is wrong with you?” he roars at me.
“How dare you take so long,” I seethe, trying to contain the rage inside me.
“Do you think it is easy for me to speak to the Wizard? Do you think I walk over to the palace, knock on the door, and he answers? ‘Oh, hello again, Rufus. Come in. What can I do for you today?’ ‘There are some people at the door asking to see you.’ ‘Are they? Well, welcome them in. We’ll have a parade!’ Idiots. He is the Wizard. He runs all of Oz. There is a process. You need not take down the walls to the city and terrify everyone inside.”
“Never keep me waiting again.”
My logical brain is telling me to apologize, to shut the hell up, but I speak before I even think. These boots do control me. My emotions, my behavior, my body, even my thoughts, and I’m scared they’ll take me over if I don’t get them off soon. Now they only take control when I’m angry or defending myself, but their power over me has been ever increasing and I worry it’s only a matter of time before they rule me altogether. The Wizard is my only hope to get these boots off my feet and get me back to my realm where I won’t need the boots at all. Then I can be just me again. Just plain Dorothy.
“You demand to see the Great Oz, so I am required to ask him if
he will see you. That takes time.”
“Will he?” Ardie asks.
“Perhaps,” he says with a gleeful, sinister grin. “Not today though. He is a very busy Wizard, and you have come unannounced. If we grant you entry, I will take you to his Palace where they will attend to your needs until he can see you. Now you must put on the spectacles.”
“Spectacles? Why?” I ask.
“Because if you do not wear the spectacles, the brightness and glory of the Emerald City and the power of the Wizard will be unknown to you. Even those who live in the City wear spectacles to witness of the immensity of the Wizard’s power and remember what a blessing it is to set foot behind these walls. It will be good for you to know, however powerful a witch you may believe yourself to be, Oz is far more powerful,” he says with a smug grin.
“Oh, is he?” I say with a suppressed snort, and his eyes narrow, but I see the twinge of fear hiding in the wings while his pride and ego take center stage.
“By far, he is. When the Wizard arrived in Oz, he proclaimed this city to be made, and it was made. Made by magic. It grew from the ground, palace and all, with roads, and shops, and homes, and magical luxuries never imagined. The walls of the city rose with it to protect us from the evil that plagues this land,” he says, his eyes narrowing on me, making his opinion of me plain. All because I smeared his makeup, which I see he has fixed.
“When the other witches came to challenge him, his power erupted from the center of the city in an enormous geyser of his magic and thrust them back for good, making this city the only safe place in the realm. There is a reason I am the protector of its borders—the Guardian of the Gates. I could destroy you, but the Wizard could demolish you with nothing more than a thought to do so. When you cross him, he will crush you,” he says and smiles, excited to see the Wizard annihilate me.
“His magic pours over the city as proof of his power. A magic so strong, he uses it to run this entire city day and night. Once you come inside, his magic, his terrible power, is inescapable, but before you can enter, you must pass through me.”
An evil, glimmering grin emerges on his wrinkled, glittery face, slow and menacing.
Dorothy In the Land of Monsters Page 21