The Wizard of OZ

by S. D. Stuart

  “Lock the old man back up and take the East Marshal to see her Queen.”

  She turned again to Caleb. “This one is coming with me.”

  As soon as the guards disappeared around the corner with Dorothy, Caleb looked at Amanda. “What are you going to do to her?”

  Amanda smiled. “It’s not what I’m going to do to her. It’s what you’re going to do to her.”

  She led him down the side passageway to a large room lit only by a single candle in the center of the room and filled with glass bottles. “Your master sent a package that will take care of our East Marshal problem. Apparently, only you know how to properly mix the venom so that it will be undetectable by its victim until it is too late.”

  He smiled. “And that is why Nero sent me to ensure that both the poison was properly formulated and the victim was here.”

  He started gathering glass vials and bottles before turning to Amanda. “I’m afraid I have to insist that you step outside while I work.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

  “If you will not leave, then I suggest you keep as far back as possible. I will be handling the most deadly substance known to man and if something should happen …” While talking, he fumbled one of the empty glass vials. It slipped from his furry paw and shattered on the floor at his feet.

  He looked down at the shattered glass and looked back up at her. “The lion half of my DNA makes me resistant to the venom. This is why I have been the one tasked with handling it. But it still makes me nervous when there’s somebody around me who could die because I was clumsy.”

  Amanda took a step sideways toward the door. “I’ll be right outside the door if you need anything.”

  He smiled. “I will call you as soon as I am done.”

  She closed the door behind her and he was alone.

  He spent the next half hour carefully measuring out the mixture of venom and water. No amount of water could dilute the venom enough to make it harmless. Instead, it created a time delay, a sort of fuse, before the venom became concentrated enough in the body to kill. The more water he added to the mixture, the longer it would take the venom to concentrate.

  As he mixed, his thoughts kept returning to the words of the real Wizard down in the dungeon.

  If what he said was true, it meant Caleb was not the only hybrid in OZ.

  Nero rescued him from death when he was a baby. And Nero reminded him every day that he was the last of his kind. He had even insisted that Caleb call him father.

  Why would he do that?

  If it was to gain his undying loyalty and trust; it worked.

  But now, his trust was shaken.

  If there were others like him, why did Nero keep that from him?

  When today’s task was complete, he would ask Nero to send him on a spy mission to the south to determine their weaknesses in preparation for conquering the Southern Territories.

  He would take this time to search for the lost city Jetharo had discovered.

  The door latch clanked behind him and ripped him from his thoughts. He turned just as Amanda entered the room. “Are you done yet?”

  He picked up a colored ribbon and tied it around the neck of a bottle.

  “The bottle with the blue ribbon has the poison in it. The bottle with the red ribbon is just water.”

  He picked up both bottles and held them out to her. “Make sure you do not confuse the two.”

  She took the two bottles and inspected them. “Blue is bad. Got it.”

  Caleb took a deep breath and let it out gradually. “I will return to Nero and let them know it is done.”

  Amanda frowned. “I would’ve thought you would want to see this through to the bitter end?”

  His eyes shifted to the floor. “I should be getting back. There is still much to do before the next phase.”

  A wry smile crept onto Amanda’s lips. “You’ve developed feelings for her.” She held up the bottle with the blue ribbon tied to its neck. “I trust you’ve made this no less painful because you like her?”

  He lowered his eyes and shook his head.

  Her smile warmed. “Good, because you get to watch.”

  Chapter 27

  High atop the Western Territories, in the dining hall of the tallest spire of the castle, Dorothy sat on the opposite end of the long banquet table from the West Marshal.

  Servants were still placing platters of fresh fruit and ornately cut vegetables on the table between them.

  The West Marshal plucked a grape off the platter in front of her and looked across the table at Dorothy. She popped the grape in her mouth. “I’m afraid we got off on the wrong foot. When we first met I was under the assumption that you killed my sister in order to take over as the East Marshal.”

  Dorothy started to speak but the West Marshal raised a finger and cut her off. “Let me finish. Now I see my assumption was all wrong and you have but one goal here in OZ. To find your father.”

  Dorothy sat up straighter in her chair. “That’s all I ever wanted. I just happened to be in airship that crashed in OZ. I never intended to kill anyone.”

  The West Marshal stabbed at a cube of honeydew melon with a fork. “I see that now and believe we can help each other. You have something that I want and I have something that you want.”

  People had been saying this to Dorothy ever since she crashed in OZ and it was seldom true. It always meant they wanted something she could not give or something bad was about to happen to her. In this case, the opposite was true. There was nothing the West Marshal could offer her. “What could you possibly have that I want?”

  The West Marshal pointed at Dorothy. “Take a look at your necklace.”

  She looked down and saw her necklace was glowing brightly through her clothing. She looked back up at the West Marshal. “My father is here?”

  The West Marshal shook her head and pulled at the leather strap around her own neck. She produced an equally brilliant glowing emerald heart necklace. “I have your father’s necklace.”

  Dorothy stood up, knocking her chair over. “What have you done with my father!?”

  The guards on either side of the room stepped toward her and drew their swords. The West Marshal held up a hand. “Wait!”

  She looked back at Dorothy. “Please have a seat.”

  “No thanks. I’ll stand.”

  The West Marshal nodded toward one of the guards. “I’m afraid I must insist. For your own safety.”

  The guard sheathed his sword and lifted the chair up. As Dorothy settled back into the chair he pushed it up against the table.

  “What have you done with my father?” she said through clenched teeth.

  The West Marshal slipped the necklace over her head and placed it on the table in front of her. “The last I heard, Nero had him.”

  Dorothy’s heart sank. She had been so close. But without the necklace, she never knew it. She looked deeply into the West Marshal’s eyes. “Can you help me get him back?”

  The West Marshal smiled. “Yes I can. Nero has something you want. I have something Nero wants. And you have something I want. Three players. Three trades. We all get what we want.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I want the East Marshal star. I will give you the necklace in exchange for it and you can use the necklace to get your father from Nero.”

  Dorothy clutched at her necklace. It felt warm from the glow. “I already have a necklace. Why do I need yours?”

  “You silly little girl. You don’t even know what you have. Nero wants both necklaces. Having only one is useless.”

  “Why does he want both of them?”

  “That is hardly important, isn’t it? All that should matter is giving him both necklaces will get your father back.”

  “How do I know I can trust you?”

  A side door opened and everyone’s attention turned to the door as Amanda and Caleb both entered the dining hall. Amanda was smiling one of her patented wicked smiles as s
he walked in carrying two bottles of clear liquid. Caleb refused to make eye contact with Dorothy as he shuffled in silently behind Amanda.

  The West Marshal clasped her hands together. “You can trust me because we are going to toast to our new-found friendship.”

  Amanda handed each bottle to separate servants who walked to each end of the table and poured the liquid into glass goblets in front of both the West Marshal and Dorothy.

  While they poured, the West Marshal looked across the table at her. “One of the most precious commodities in all of OZ is a clean glass of water …”

  Dorothy interrupted her. “I know, I know. Nero has a whole fountain of it just for looking at.”

  The West Marshal laughed. “He was always one to flaunt his excess.” She grabbed her goblet and held it aloft, letting some of the water slosh out over the lip. “To us, Dorothy. May this be the start of a long-enduring friendship.”

  Dorothy picked up her goblet and glanced over Caleb. He had apparently been watching her but quickly looked down at the floor as soon as she looked over at him.

  She looked back at the West Marshal and held her goblet in the air. “To my father.”

  The West Marshal nodded her head. “To your father.” She tilted the goblet to her lips and drank it all without stopping.

  Dorothy placed the edge of the goblet on her lips and sipped at the water. It tasted cool and refreshing, just like water should.

  The West Marshal looked at her over the spread of exotic foods on the table that was far more than just the two of them could ever hope to finish in one sitting. Just another example of flaunting your excess, Dorothy thought.

  The West Marshal tilted her head to one side and showed Dorothy her own empty goblet. “The toast doesn’t count unless you drink it all.”

  Dorothy took a deep breath and gulped down the rest of her water.

  The West Marshal watched her intently as if waiting for something to happen. Dorothy’s throat constricted and she looked over at Caleb who continued to stare at the floor.

  She looked back at the West Marshal who visibly relaxed and sat back in her chair.

  Dorothy’s heart pounded in her chest and her breathing increased in shallow spurts as she realized the water was most likely poisoned.

  She looked at Caleb.

  He glanced up at her and she could see his eyes glisten as he held back the tears. He silently mouthed the words “I’m sorry.”

  She looked back at the West Marshal who was smiling by now.

  She had been tricked into drinking poison under the guise of friendship.

  She clawed at her throat and started taking heavy, gasping breaths.

  The West Marshal stood and slowly walked along the table toward her. “The Arcadia spider is unique among its species. It is one of the few predators in the world to go after prey that is often ten to a hundred times bigger than itself.”

  She stood over Dorothy and looked down at her. “How does it do this, you might ask? It injects a rather unique venom into its hapless victim, and then waits. As the venom spreads throughout the body, it begins to dissolve all the internal organs until they become a single pool of mush.”

  Dorothy tried to grab the West Marshal, but she knocked her easily back down. Dorothy sat down hard in the chair, her head drooping to one side. Spittle and foam forming at the corners of her mouth.

  The West Marshal leaned in close. “That feeling you are experiencing right now. It’s the feeling of melting.”

  Dorothy rolled her head to one side and looked one last time at Caleb. The fur around the corners of his eyes matted from the tears he could no longer contain.

  The West Marshal grabbed her chin with a hand and twisted her head back. “No! You will look at me when you exhale your final breath.”

  Dorothy convulsed violently and heaved a final gasp before going limp in the West Marshal’s hand, her eyes glazing over staring at nothing.

  The West Marshal let her go and Dorothy pitched face first into a bowl of grapes.

  Dead.

  Chapter 28

  Caleb stared at Dorothy lying face down on the banquet table. He had lied to Amanda when he said he tied the blue ribbon to the poisoned bottle. But that didn’t matter when, just before they came into the banquet hall, she slipped the ribbons off both bottles and shuffled them quickly back and forth from one hand to the next.

  “What are you doing?” He had asked her.

  She continued shuffling the bottles back and forth until he no longer knew which one held the poison. “It’s not like I don’t trust you, because I don’t, but I would rather let fate decide who died in there today.”

  He could not believe what he was hearing. “Fate?”

  She shuffled the bottles even faster ensuring that neither one of them would know which was which. “Well, fate will decide for one of them. I will have to kill the other one myself.”

  He looked at her with his mouth open slightly in shock.

  She smirked. “Don’t look so surprised. My mother has grown weak and hides in her castle for fear that someone might try to kill her. She no longer deserves to rule over the Western Territories, let alone all of OZ. And don’t get me started on your girlfriend. Nero informed me you might develop a soft spot for the girl, so he asked if I would be willing to let them both die and take over for my mother as the Queen of OZ.” She winked at him. “Of course I would.”

  His heart beat so hard in his chest he thought it would burst right through his rib cage. His entire plan of poisoning the West Marshal for Nero and bringing Dorothy back alive was slipping out of his hands.

  His eyes frantically tracked the bottles, but there was no way he could know which was which. He could only hope that fate was on his side and the West Marshal got the poisoned bottle.

  That would give him time to save Dorothy.

  Now, as he looked at her lying face down on the table, he knew fate was not on his side.

  It was too late.

  She had been the only person to treat him like anything other than a hybrid.

  And now she was dead.

  The West Marshal picked up Dorothy’s hand and held it for a moment. She let go and the hand flopped back down to the table.

  She spun around and smiled at Amanda. “You’ve done it, my dear.”

  Amanda stuck her chin out defiantly. “Was there any doubt Mother?”

  The West Marshal continued to smile as she walked up to Amanda. “You’ve been disappointing me a lot lately. But it looks like you’re finally turning yourself around.”

  “Disappointing you?”

  The West Marshal placed a finger on Amanda’s lips.

  “Hush child. You are the daughter of the greatest ruler of OZ. You’ll figure it out someday.”

  The West Marshal spun around and headed back to Dorothy’s body. “It’s time for me to claim what is rightfully mine.”

  Amanda’s arm jerked violently out from under her cloak. “You mean what is rightfully mine!”

  Caleb reacted on instinct when he saw the flash of steel as Amanda raised a dagger over her head and charged the West Marshal.

  He sprang from a full stop to tackle Amanda in midair.

  They both hit the ground hard in a tangle of arms and legs. The dagger skidded across the stone floor and the West Marshal caught it under her boot.

  Caleb struggled with Amanda before finally hooking an arm under her neck and bending her back the wrong way.

  She continued to struggle but it was no use. He was much stronger than she was and had his arms and legs wrapped around her like a squid battling a shark in the depths of the ocean.

  The West Marshal plucked the dagger from the floor, walked over to Amanda and crouched down in front of her.

  Caleb had Amanda on her belly. He pulled her head up so that she could look the West Marshal in the eye.

  The West Marshal laughed. “What is it with kids these days? They feel entitled to a shortcut to power and success rather than doing all the ha
rd work to earn it.”

  Her smile evaporated. “Let her watch me take the East Marshal’s star.”

  She shifted her eyes to Caleb. “Then break her neck.”

  What was he doing? Why had he saved the West Marshal from Amanda? And why would he kill Amanda for the West Marshal?

  Both of them had killed the only woman he ever loved.

  His heart beat loudly in his chest.

  That was why he had felt the way he did.

  He loved Dorothy.

  And he was certain she would have grown to love him.

  He looked over at her lifeless form hunched over the banquet table.

  His life was playing out like every fairytale he had read. It was always the same story. Two lovers find each other and one of them ends up dead before the other has a chance to say how he really feels.

  The West Marshal yanked Dorothy’s body back to a seated position and reached for the Marshal Star pinned to the front of her leather corset. “I’ll take that.”

  Dorothy’s hand shot up and grabbed the West Marshal’s wrist. “I don’t think so.”

  The guards in the room screamed words like “sorcery “and “witch” before dropping their swords and bumping into each other trying to be the first out of the room. It did not matter how much they feared the West Marshal. Apparently, they feared the undead even more.

  The West Marshal sucked in a sharp audible gasp.

  Caleb slackened his grip on Amanda and she took that opportunity to stab him in the jaw with an elbow.

  His vision flashed white momentarily and she wriggled free from his grasp. By the time he regained his senses and prepared himself to fend off Amanda’s impending counter-attack he discovered that he, Dorothy and the West Marshal were the only ones left in the room.

  And Dorothy was alive.

  But if Dorothy was alive, than that meant …

  He focused his attention on the West Marshal. Her face morphed suddenly from surprise to intense pain. Yellow foam formed around the corners of her mouth right before she hunched over and cried out in pain.