“Ugh. Can you please wait,” Ardie groans, not wanting to watch us grope each other.
“You could leave,” Nick says, shooting him a death stare.
“You are not the only one who will miss her,” Ardie says. “We all will miss her when she goes back to Kansas.”
“Why must you go, Dorothy?” Werelion asks.
“I wish I didn’t have to,” I admit.
“Because it is not safe for her here,” Nick insists.
“No, it is not,” Ardie agrees.
“That is true,” Werelion says with a disheartened pout, and I’m sure I’m wearing a very similar expression.
When there is a knock at the door, Ardie shoots up to answer it. A glitter faced soldier in a palace uniform like the one the Guardian wears stands in the vestibule holding his chin so high I’m not sure if he can even see Ardie there.
“Well?” Ardie asks.
“Come to the Hall of Mirrors at four minutes after nine o’clock tomorrow morning to speak with the Wizard,” he says, clicks his heels, turns, and goes.
Ardie presses the doorstone, and the door closes as Werelion stands.
“Good, so tomorrow we shall meet at the Hall of Mirrors at nine. We will take Toto again today if that’s all right with you, Dorothy,” Ardie says.
“He’ll love it,” I say as Toto jumps up with his tail wagging.
They say goodbye and head out with Toto in tow, leaving Nick and me in my room alone. The moment the door slides closed, he pulls me to him and holds me tight. I hate that we will part forever tomorrow, so much my insides wrench with misery.
I fear he is the only man I’ll ever love, but we are from two different worlds and although I could live in his, it’s likely I wouldn’t last too long here. There’s no doubt in my mind he would be miserable in mine—it would be too hard for him to survive there and adjust to the differences. He wouldn’t be happy, and he would be heavy with guilt for leaving an entire country of people relying on him behind for Quelala to enslave and turn into the soulless undead.
Throughout my life, I’ve always vacillated between believing in nothing but what’s tangible and knowable and having faith. In what I am not sure, but no matter what side of the metaphysical coin my thoughts and beliefs landed, I always found it easy to accept there’s a lot I don’t understand and be okay with it. What brought me to this realm, why I came to this realm, those things I do not get, and I won’t just accept it this time, not when I can do something about it.
Although it could be this aspect of things is a fluke. Maybe I came here to kill the Vampire Witches and Nick needed to love me to help me, and I needed to love him to keep going. Maybe that is all it is. If he’s right, he will die soon, and I get to be the woman he loved, however short lived our love may have been. Maybe me going back to another realm is just what he said it is—a gift to him, to know he wouldn’t be leaving me behind to turn into an evil night creature—and because he will know I am safe in my world, he can be at peace.
Even though I will be the one left behind, I will always be in love with him. I can adopt a child if I want one someday. There are so many children who need homes and it is not a requirement to fall in love with someone else to be a mom. In my heart, that child can be ours, even though he will be dead or here living a life without me. If he survives though, I don’t want him to never find someone. It’s foolish of me to believe he would stay true to our love after I’ve gone. I don’t want him to feel guilty either.
“Nick?”
“Yes, Dorothy?”
“If you survive, I just want you to know it’s okay with me if you fall in love again. I don’t want you to be alone. You should have a family, find a girl who you can love and make a life with her,” I say, and as I say it, it hurts so much, but I only want him to be happy.
“I want that for you, Dorothy.”
“I don’t need that to be happy. In my world there are many children who need homes. I was one of them. I do not have to give birth to be a mother if I want to be. You know I never expected to fall in love, and I’m not so sure that’s going to change once I leave. But just because I don’t foresee myself doing that, please know I don’t expect the same from you. You deserve a better life and I don’t want you to be alone. When you find a woman you care for, I don’t want you to feel you’re betraying me if you fall in love. Not that you would,” I tell him.
“I already am in love.”
“I know, but I don’t want you to feel you can’t…” I sigh. I hate the thought of him moving on from me, from us, but he should. It’s what’s best for him.
“I feel just as you do—I want you to be open to love, to find a man who will love you as I do, or… almost as much as I do. No one could love you more than I do,” he says, and I can tell he means it, and I believe it—no one could love me as much as he does.
He is my soulmate, and somehow, powers beyond my comprehension gave me the gift of finding my perfect match, however brief, however many worlds away, and I am so grateful. Nick is the greatest gift I could have ever received. I could have lived my entire life never knowing true love, never knowing what this could be. And even though I can’t keep it, I have had that love of my life kind of love, and I will carry it with me always.
For the rest of the day and all night long, we stay in cherishing every moment knowing it’s the last.
Jellia comes at eight the next morning to get us ready for the day and serve us breakfast. Then, at nine o’clock the glittery green soldier comes to lead us to the Hall of Mirrors where Oz takes his meetings. Four minutes later we all walk into the room together.
Mirrors reflect each other and nothing more until we step forward and see ourselves from every angle in an infinite echo of the five of us. Each one of us expects to see the Wizard in the shape he had taken before, and we are all surprised when we look about and see no else in the room.
Then we hear a solemn voice that says, “I am the Great and Terrifying Oz. Why do you seek me?”
“Where are you?” I ask. Why won’t he show himself?
“I am everywhere, but to the eyes of common mortals, I am invisible.”
“We are here to claim our promises,” Ardie says.
“What promises?” asks Oz.
“Excuse me?” I ask, growing angry. He knows very well what he promised each of us.
“You promised to send Dorothy back to Kansas when we destroyed Vampire Witch of the West,” Nick reminds him.
“And you promised to give me the cure for my zombiism and a relentless need to consume brains,” Ardie says.
“You promised to give me a place here in Emerald City so I would no longer need to be a heartless killer of vampires,” adds Nick.
“And you promised to give me courage,” says Werelion.
“Is the Vampire Witch destroyed for good?” asks the Voice with a slight tremble.
“Yes, I melted her with a bucket of water.”
“Dear me. How sudden! Well… Come to me tomorrow, for I must have time to think it over.”
“You’ve had plenty of time already,” Ardie snaps.
Werelion, gathering the mettle to be defiant, says, “We shan’t wait a day longer.”
“You must keep your promise to send Dorothy back to Kansas,” Nick growls.
Werelion, having mustered up even more courage, lets out a loud roar so fierce and dreadful, it riles Toto up and he charges the mirrors. Through the middle of the mirrored room, he runs toward what seems like the center mirror but with all the reflections it’s hard to tell which way he went until he leaps through the air, jumps onto a mirror, and it sends it over with a crash. Behind the mirror stands a little old man with a bald head and a wrinkled face, and he looks as surprised as we are.
Nick, raising his axe, rushes toward the little man, and cries out, “Who are you?”
“I am Oz, the Great and Terrifying,” says the little man, in a trembling voice. “But don’t strike me—please don’t—and I’ll do anything you wa
nt me to.”
All of us gape at the man in surprise and dismay.
“You are not the figment I spoke to in my suite,” I say.
“Oh, I have nothing to do with all that.”
“All that?” I say and scoff.
“The magic. The green fog and glitter. I have nothing to do with it.”
“But…” I say and stop, so confused. “Then you’re not the Wizard.”
“I am, or they think I am.”
“He is an impostor,” Ardie accuses, his voice booming, and Oz shushes him.
“Shh! No, you are wrong,” says the little man. “I have only been… making believe.”
“Making believe?” I shout.
“Hush, my dear,” he says. “Don’t speak so loud, or they will hear you and it should ruin me. I’m supposed to be a Great Wizard.”
“And aren’t you?” I smirk, realizing the scheme this guy’s been running.
“No, my dear. I’m just a common man.”
“Don’t you mean a con man?”
“Yes!” declares the little man, rubbing his hands together as if it pleases him. “I am as you say, a con man.”
“You’re a liar, and a cheat,” I clarify.
“I am,” the little man says with pride. Gross.
“This is terrible,” says Nick. “How shall Dorothy return to her realm?”
“How shall I get my courage?” asks the Werelion.
“Will I ever get my cure for zombiism and my relentless hunger for brains?” wails Ardie, wiping the tears of frustration from his eyes with his coat sleeve.
“My dear friends,” says Oz, “I pray you not to speak of these little things. Think of me, and the terrible trouble I’m in at being found out.”
“Are you serious?” I scoff. “Doesn’t anyone else know you’re a fraud?” Are people here that stupid?
“No one knows it but you four—and me,” replies Oz. “I have fooled everyone so long that I thought they should never find me out. It was a great mistake my ever letting you into the Hall of Mirrors. I will not see even my subjects so they will believe I am something terrible.”
“I don’t understand,” I say, bewildered. “Who is the man in the walls I spoke to? He called himself Oz… Wait, your name isn’t Oz.”
“No. Well, funny but my name is Oswald. Everyone always called me Waldo or Waldy though. Never Oz. Until I came here that is.”
“Where did you come from? They say you descended from the sky and grew Emerald City before their eyes,” Ardie says.
“I met a zombie who was there when the city rose and when the Enchanted Hollow burst open,” I say. “He said he witnessed it all.”
“As did I,” he says. “I was born in Omaha, and when I was young I joined the carnival. There I had many jobs and one was a balloonist.”
“Like making balloon animals?”
“No,” the little man titters. “It is a man who goes up in a balloon on circus day to draw a crowd of people together and get them to pay to see the circus,” he explains.
“Oh,” I say.
Circus day? What era is that? How long has this guy been here? How old could he be?
“One day I went up in a balloon and the ropes got twisted, so I couldn’t come down again. It went way up above the clouds, so far that a current of air struck it and carried it many, many miles away. For a day and a night, I traveled through the air, and on the morning of the second day I awoke and found the balloon floating over a strange and beautiful country.
“It came down slow, and I was not hurt a bit, but I found myself amid a strange people, who, seeing me come from the clouds, thought I was a great wizard. I let them think so because they feared me and promised to do anything I wished them to.
“Soon though, I found out about the zombies and the werebeasts and then the vampires came,” he says and shakes his head. “But when a brigade of zombies attacked from Gillikin, it was terrifying, and very gory. Many people were turned in a matter of minutes and a terrible battle ensued. The shifters drove them away in the end, but they forced the people I was with to move because they had to burn it all. When we found a place in what I now know is the center of Emerald and set up camp, everyone looked to me for an answer on how to move forward, so, out of fear, I ordered them to build this city, and my palace. I said, ‘Build us a city where evil creatures dare not tread. Surround it with a high battlement and set my palace at its center. Build homes for all the good people of this land who want to live in peace. Build shops and businesses for yourselves to operate. Plant gardens and farms to feed us all. Use your talents and skills to contribute to a good and harmonious haven for every peaceful being in these lands.’ I was quite the performer in the carnival,” he says with a proud smirk.
“When the people cheered, the ground rumbled, and before our eyes, the city erected itself from the ground. On the outskirts of the city, farms sprung up lush with full grown crops and grand mansions to tempt the fiercer shifters to live in. The city itself was a smaller version of what you see now. It grows as more people come.”
“What about the man in the walls, and the face that spoke from the Enchanted Hollow?” Nick asks.
“Oh, well, I know nothing of a man in the walls, but when the witches came to see me, I hid. Although I heard about the face, I did not see it, but I am glad it appeared. That was when everyone went from calling me Wizard to calling me Oz.
“Does that mean the magic everyone sees when they wear the glasses isn’t you?” Werelion asks.
“When the hollow appeared, one of our residents discovered the magic became visible if you looked through the emerald crystal. That was when I ordered them to make the spectacles, so everyone who entered my city walls could witness my magic. When they wore them, they would know to never dare cross me the way the witches did, or they would suffer my wrath. But I have no clue where the magic comes from other than a hole in the ground.”
“Why didn’t you just own up and say you had nothing to do with the magic?” I challenge.
I hate people like this guy. It’s not cool to cheat people. It’s not cool to lie or get something over on someone. Reprehensible is what it is. Pathetic, weak, and stupid is what it is. If you’re honest, you save yourself a lot of headache in the long run, and the effort and energy it takes to cheat someone or steal from them is better spent on doing honest, good work that hurts no one. There’s something sick and twisted about a person who gets off on hurting other people or taking something that isn’t theirs. When someone gets enjoyment out of harming others, I know that person is someone I don’t want to know, and I don’t want to know this old liar—he’s shady as hell.
“Do you want to find out what a city full of zombies and shifters angry at you looks like? I don’t. One of my greatest fears was the witches. There were four of them, and they ruled the people who live in the North, South, East, and West. The witches of the North and South were good, and I knew they would do me no harm, but the Vampire Witches of the East and West were wicked and had they not thought I was more powerful than they themselves, they would have destroyed me. The Enchanted Hollow incident was a miracle, just like this city springing up from the ground. Both made me seem more powerful than any other sorcerer around, so I maximized on the fear it instilled and sent a flock of wereravens with a treaty for each of them to sign. Although I was afraid, I knew my reputation for being more powerful than even them was a great asset, and I used it to protect the people of this city and myself. Lucky for me, they signed it. As it was, I lived in grave fear of them for many years, so you can imagine how pleased I was when I heard your house had fallen on the Vampire Witch of the East. When you came to me, I was willing to promise anything if you would only do away with the other Vampire Witch, but, now that you have melted her, I am ashamed to say that I cannot keep my promises.”
“You are a terrible person,” I say with disdain. I could use more colorful language but ‘terrible’ is the best way to describe what he is.
“O
h, no, my dear; I’m a very good man, but I’m a terrible Wizard, I must admit.”
“You can’t give me a cure for zombiism?” asks Ardie.
“No, but you don’t need it. You are learning what it is to be many creatures every day. Experience is the only thing that brings knowledge, and you are getting to experience what it is to be more than just yourself. It may not be easy, but you are gaining so much from your zombiism.”
“That may be true,” says Ardie, “but I shall be very unhappy unless you give me the cure.”
The false Wizard appraises him.
“Well,” he said with a sigh, “I’m not much of a Wizard but if you will come to me tomorrow morning, I will give you an endless supply of brains, and a card for free meals in all of Emerald City so you may forever quench your relentless thirst.”
“Thank you, I suppose,” Ardie grumbles, perhaps accepting the consequences of his choice to become a zombie.
“How about my courage?” asks the Werelion.
“You have plenty of courage already,” answers Oz. “All you need is confidence in yourself. There is no living thing that is not afraid when it faces danger. The true courage is in facing danger when you are afraid, and that kind of courage you have in droves.”
“Perhaps I have, but I’m petrified just the same,” says the Werelion. “I shall be very unhappy unless you give me the kind of courage that makes one forget he is afraid.”
“Very well, I will give you that kind of courage tomorrow,” replies Oz.
“How about my heart?” challenges Nick with a challenging smirk.
“Why, as for that,” answers Oz, “You already know you have one. Perhaps before you were heartless, but from what I have heard about you and this young lady here, it is clear that you have a heart, and you know it.”
“That I do,” Nick says.
Dorothy In the Land of Monsters Page 40