“I will kill you if I must,” I blurt, surprising myself with words I had no plan to say.
He beams his sinister grin and steps toward me. It seems like he might get in my face but instead he shoves his trunk at me.
“These spectacles are a gift from the Wizard—they will help you see what is coming for you, and you can witness his greatness as you die,” he says as he opens the big emerald box filled with green lens goggles.
“Wow, and all because I smudged your makeup.”
His eyes flare along with his nostrils and a snicker escapes me.
“I will enjoy this next part,” he says with a self-satisfied smirk.
“What is that?” Ardie asks.
Without an answer, he thrusts the box forward, commanding us to take a pair.
I don’t blame him for hating us. I’m being rude and disrespectful and mean. Yes, I don’t like this man. Yes, he is obnoxious, and to leave us here for so long locking us in a room in a fifty-foot-thick emerald wall is all kinds of messed up. If he tries to hurt me or my friends, if I have to kill this man, I will, but I don’t want to. I don’t want to kill anyone or anything ever again if I can help it. But I need to see the Wizard. He’s my only hope to get home and get these boots off my feet. Whatever I must do to make that happen—including kill this guy—I’ll do, but only if I have no other option. My boots don’t control me so much just yet that I have no control over whether I murder someone.
Murder. I’ve killed plenty of zombies and vampires this past week, but I haven’t killed a human, and the thought of it nauseates me.
I can’t do it. Even if it means I stay and these boots take me over. I’ll become an evil sorceress like the vampire witch who wore them before me, but at least I won’t be a murderer.
I turn my attention to the glasses. Green and copper goggles of all shapes and sizes, some elaborate and outlandish with twirling decorations and large convex lenses in odd shapes, fill the chest. When Werelion picks a pair that fit him well, I realize the ones with strange frames and lenses are for shifters. There are some for human shaped heads that are simple and understated, and some that have ornate embellishments. One pair stands out to me. They’re beautiful with intricate copper filigree, copper rosettes, and a feminine aesthetic. I pick it up and examine it.
“Are those green lenses?” I ask.
“We make them out of the emerald from the Enchanted Hollow.”
“Enchanted Hollow?”
“Yes, the site of where the Wizard’s power burst forth when the witches challenged him—we call it the Enchanted Hollow. It is quite a sight to see. Now, it is the place from where the Wizard’s magic flows to run the city and keep the peace.”
“Where is it?” Ardie asks.
“At the very center of the city lies the hollow. A railing surrounds it, so you cannot fall in, but if you did, the Wizard’s magic would pick you up and set you on your feet again. If he wanted you to survive it, that is. Although, once you enter the city, you will be at the mercy of his power. The magic from the hollow could very well swallow you up altogether. He is that powerful.”
I lift the pretty goggles and put them over my eyes, clicking them into place. Everything is even more green than it was, but now I can see the green mist running through the emerald wall that houses this room. Magic courses through what look like veins in the deep green crystal, streams of glinting illumination flowing through it in thin, concentrated lines, rushing in every direction.
“Those fit you fine,” the Guardian of the Gates says without looking at me while passing the box to Nick and Ardie.
After rummaging through the box for a few seconds they each come up with a pair of goggles for themselves. They both put them on and somehow Nick makes them look hot, while Ardie looks hilarious. He picked a pair with multiple lenses he can flip up and down. He tests them out, flipping and clicking, going back and forth between the lenses.
“I will take those,” the Guardian of the Gate snaps as he snatches the goggles off Ardie’s face.
“You are a nasty person,” Ardie admonishes with an indignant humph.
“You are an irritating zombie,” he snaps back, and Nick lets out a quiet snicker. “Put these on.” The Guardian shoves another pair at Ardie, who takes the goggles but with narrowed eyes.
The Guardian reaches in and finds a tiny pair of goggles, crouches down, and puts them on Toto who lets him do it without a struggle. Toto is not a clothes-wearing dog. Any time I’ve dressed him for the rain, he howls and runs away barking his plight over the horrors of having to wear clothing. When I get his rain outfit on him after a long struggle, I swear he gets embarrassed. He doesn’t want to leave the house, and he hides from people, ducking his head when someone looks his way. But these goggles he doesn’t seem to mind. That might be the most shocking thing I’ve seen today.
The Guardian of the Gates adjusts his own glasses and walks over to the gateway to the city. When he raises his palm to the faceted emerald button on the wall beside it, a magical dial that wasn’t visible before appears around the button in light.
Three rings made up of various symbols in a kaleidoscope of luminosity encircle the jewel. With a twisting wrist, the Guardian turns it to the right. A distinct chime rings for each symbol as it passes the magical marker and lights up green. The soft tintinnabulation of the dial as it ticks along tickles my ears.
As each symbol lights up in succession, it pulls my vision like a powerful magnet. Whatever he is doing, the magic behind it is strong.
When the jewel lands in the desired spot, only one glowing emerald symbol in the ring, he pushes the palm-sized button before turning the jewel in the opposite direction. The symbols in the second ring light up the same way as the first, and when the light settles on a single symbol, he pushes again and turns the button back the other way.
What is this that it has so many options? The possible combinations are immense. When he settles on a single symbol in the third ring, he pushes the button a third time, and the gate slides open.
We follow him through the doorway into another emerald room. When the gate slides closed, the walls light up with green sparks, and the entire room jerks. As Toto barks, I steady myself on my feet and Werelion plasters himself to the wall.
“What is this?” Nick asks, suspicion narrowing his eyes as he places one hand on the wall closest to him.
“You will see soon enough,” the Guardian replies with that sinister grin I realize irritates me to no end.
Although we are in an enclosed room with no windows and an overwhelming green light that surrounds us from all sides, I can feel we are moving, fast.
The room tilts, goes up an incline, then evens out again. It seems to fly through turns, veering this way and that, until it slows to a stop.
The door slides open and we follow the old man out of the room into an enclosed hexagonal space surrounded by people sitting in bleachers. Some still filter into rows holding concessions in green containers as they take their seats. As I look around, I realize we’ve stepped out into the center of an arena. The door we came in from disappears, and so does the Guardian.
“What the—” I start but stop short when the Guardian appears at one end of the hexagonal arena holding a long staff. He raises his arms and the people in the stands cheer.
“Battle for entry,” booms through the arena when the words appear written in light overhead. The people cheer louder.
“What is happening?” Werelion whimpers.
The Guardian steps forward and the ground we stand on turns, giving the spectators a view from all sides.
“What’s happening?” Werelion cries, growing more terrified as we rotate, or the seats rotate around us. I’m not sure which; it’s disorienting.
A countdown clock appears below the ‘Battle for Entry’ sign overhead, counting down from twenty.
The Guardian’s malice sodden stare as he squares off, the signage over our heads, spectators… It’s a boss battle. Like in the hours
of video games I played with Billy. He liked them, so I played many, often, and this is a boss battle if I ever saw one. To get to the next level in a game, or the next world, or in this case to gain entry to this city, we have to fight this guy and win. I bet he’s fierce, but between the four of us, we should be able to take him out quick.
The clock is now at eleven and the Guardian raises his staff. As the gem on its end irradiates, growing so bright it’s hard to look at, the people cheer. He slams the staff into the ground and grows to the size of a building, stories high, the green mist swirling around him, pouring off of him. If intimidation is what he’s going for, it’s working. I’m a peon next to this guy. He could just stomp me, and I’d be dead.
“Holy crap,” I blurt, the clock now at seven.
“How in the realm are we going to defeat him?” Ardie scoffs.
“We should run,” Werelion whimpers with urgency.
“Maybe Werelion is right,” Ardie says.
“Dorothy must get back to Kansas,” Nick says.
“There must be another way. This is suicide. I may live, but you three…” Ardie says and trails off.
“In every boss battle, no matter how big or scary the enemy is, there’s always a way to beat him. We just have to find out what that is.”
“What’s a boss battle?” Ardie asks.
“This,” I say.
“How do we beat him?” Werelion asks with a trembling lip on his worry lined face.
“We find his weakness.”
Hostile bongs ring out. Nick pulls two axes from his chest as my armor covers all of me except my face. The crowd gasps.
“Werelion, take Toto and stay out of the fray. Please, keep him safe,” I say. He shakes out a meek nod and picks Toto up.
“Fight,” the unseen voice shouts, and the crowd roars.
The Guardian wastes no time. In an elaborate swirling motion, he swings his staff at us. A beam of green mist and glittering neon light shoots out as it nears. We all jump back in unison, narrowly dodging the strike.
With another twirl of his staff, a thick bolt of green lightning shoots right at me as an image of a giant shield flashes into my mind. In that instant, my armor creates what I envisioned—an enormous silver shield grows from my sternum in a blink, deflecting the bolt, shooting it back at him, but he blocks it with his staff before it strikes.
As he spins his staff in fluid flips and twirls, he flips and twirls along with it. Like little shooting stars falling all around him, green sparks envelops him as he moves, trailing their light as they follow him through spins and whirls. He glows, the green light around him growing so bright it becomes blinding. My suit covers my goggles with goggles of its own before it grows a shield that will cover the entire group right as he releases the power he just gathered.
A geyser of potent magic drives into us, the force of it so strong I slide back a yard as I fight against it. Nick and Ardie hold my shoulders, helping me to stay standing and keep us protected, but we still get pushed back. Werelion, with Toto in his arms, places his back to my back and stands his ground, immovable. Together, we fight the force of this never-ending blow that is still charging out at us with no indication it will end soon.
“What is this weakness you say he has?” Nick says with a grunt as we struggle to stay upright.
“One bite from me and he’s done for,” Ardie says.
“Or he is just more impossible to defeat,” Nick scoffs. “We would need to use the two-minute window where the change occurs to execute him. After that, the only way to win would be a blaze of fire the size of this arena.”
“What do you suggest? You want to throw your axes at him and nick him to death?” Ardie says and snorts.
“There’s only one clear way to defeat him,” Nick says.
“What?” I ask. Any ideas would be good at this point.
“Magic,” Nick says, his eyes boring into mine, when the geyser of power stops.
“What do we do? Should I try to climb him and stick him in the ear or something?” I blurt, not wanting to lose this window to move.
“It could work,” Ardie says.
“Her armor is the only thing protecting us from his magic. If she leaves us, we’re dead. Even you, Zombie. He is that powerful.”
“Then what do we do? Hide until he gets tired? Can we run out the clock? Is there a clock?” I ask, looking around, hoping to see one.
“Dorothy, I know I’ve been giving you a hard time about letting the boots take over and using magic, but maybe now is a good time to give in to it.”
“Give in?” I breathe.
“Maybe pry too,” he says, and a chuckle escapes me.
“It’s pray,” I correct.
“Right. That.”
I scan the half of the arena visible behind this massive shield to see what we have at our disposal. There are clusters of hexagonal emerald crystals shooting up in various places throughout this half of the six-sided court. I turn to Werelion.
“Find a good place to hide,” I say, and he nods and hurries to the closest cluster of emeralds with Toto in his arms, crouching behind it.
Right as another blast of light hits us, the shield my armor creates grows with the force until it closes over us in a half dome. The silver ceiling of my armor glows green as it blocks the magic from breaking through. I know Nick is right, that I need to connect to the magic of the boots to get through this trial. So even though I’m scared of losing myself to the boots and the magic, of it not working or not being enough, I’m more scared of death and I didn’t come this far just to die in this arena.
One deep cleansing breath, then another, and I close my eyes.
Please help me, help us.
The Guardian’s blast stops and my shield lowers. When our eyes connect, he laughs—the booming sound echoes off the arena walls. The spectators cheer for him. There are so many people around us hoping he’ll hurt us, hoping to see blood. If that’s what they’re here trying to escape, why would they put someone through this just to enter?
And then it happens—a rainbow mist appears from above and blankets me. A sense of calm, a tingling strength that puts me at ease and leaves me feeling confident pulsates through me beating to the rhythm of my heart. As the rainbow mist envelops me, the sound of my pulse emboldens, and the world around me shrinks, or maybe it’s that I grow taller and taller, high above the rows of seats, until I’m looking down at the Guardian as though he were the same height as when we first met. His eyes widen and I smirk.
“Oh, it’s on,” I say.
A flash of a butterfly twist kick I saw in a YouTube video enters my mind’s eye and as my body executes the move, the Guardian’s eyes widen even more.
He moves to dodge it just a second too late, and I only graze him, but the rainbow prism beaming off me and exploding from my kicks gives him a considerable jolt. In that small window where he stumbles back, I let loose on him.
His defense is formidable, using his staff to block my strikes in bursts of his green to my rainbow. His offence is strong too, and he makes contact a few times with a swift kick to my knee and a strike of his staff to my shoulder, but my boots protect me from the pain of the impact. My one advantage is that he’s not as fast as my boots make me. While he evades most of my strikes, I land a few hard hits too. And the gold shimmering light that accompany my blows seem to penetrate his layer of green mist because he cries out in pain every time I make contact.
When I land a kick to his hip, he flips back and away from me. Once he’s created some distance between us, he points his staff and shoots, but he aims to my right. As I watch the beam of green light travel past me, I spot its target—Werelion and Toto. Werelion’s taken them from behind one cluster of crystals and is trying to get to the larger one Nick and Ardie hide behind. They’re halfway there when Werelion freezes like a coward caught in the headlights. Toto braces himself for the beam of magic speeding toward them, curling into Werelion’s chest. But right as it’s about to strike, Ard
ie throws himself before them and takes the hit right in the chest. The Guardian’s beam blows a massive hole though his torso, and Ardie’s eyes widen in horror. Then another beam hits him, destroying him altogether, leaving nothing but flat mush. Ardie’s dead for good. Tears of misery, devastation, and rage well in my eyes and my breath catches in shock.
That’s what that beam of green light does when it hits? This guy is a damn psycho.
“How dare you,” I growl as a whip grows from my fist like lightning, shooting out and curling around his staff before I yank it back.
The staff flies, my silver whip wrapped around its center shimmering with rainbow light as it recoils toward me. When it reaches me, I catch the staff in my other hand as my armor absorbs the whip like it’s made of quicksilver.
With all the wrath inside me, I unleash the staff on him. Violent green and rainbow light beams out in a jagged bolt and strikes him. Rage boils over as something inside me releases. Something I think has been there for a long time I never let out. It’s like a special brand of anger you only get when you lose people. Grief and rage and hate roils so deep that you dam it up and disconnect it from the rest of yourself so you can survive, navigate life, function in a society. So you can appear to be normal and carry on with living. There’s an injustice to the chaos of life, and it raises a deep resentment when it craps on you. And sometimes, that resentment weighs so hard it sends little cracks through your armor. The dam leaks and your bilious wrath trickles out giving everyone a window into the anger you keep hidden. But on rare occasions, the dam breaks and deluges all you are. This is one of those moments for me.
A tempestuous volcano of boiling rage erupts from deep within me, channels into the staff, and radiates into the man who killed my friend when he was so close to finding his salvation. The Guardian shrinks back down to his true size before the beam flattens him the same way it flattened Ardie. When he’s nothing more than slop on the ground, I lower the staff and the beam stops.
The silence resonates so loud it’s deafening. But then an uproarious cheer thunders from the crowd. On a deep sigh I shrink back to my normal size, the stadium around me seeming to grow larger rather than me becoming smaller, which strikes me as odd. But I can’t dissect it now. Not when all I can think of is Ardie.
Dorothy In the Land of Monsters Page 22