A Dark Descent
Page 23
“Good Fairy of Lurl,” said Miss Gage. “Can you show us the Gift of the king’s final footsteps?”
Terra ceased the flutter of her tremendous mica wings and slowly descended. The moment the Fairy’s stone feet touched the dust-coated Lurlian ground, Glinda felt the soles of her boots begin to pulse.
“Hey!” cried Ben, looking down at the ground. Although he was standing still, a trail of green footsteps was suddenly stretching out before him.
The same was true for Glinda, Locasta, Shade, and everyone else. The ground, which felt firmer and sturdier now that Terra was free, was covered with hundreds upon hundreds of emerald-green footprints in the precise size and shape of King Oz’s silver boots, creating trails all over Marada’s outer ward, heading out through the main archway and crossing over the stone moat bridge.
For one fleeting moment, these thousands of footprints glowed green in the moonlight, then faded softly away. And when they were gone, so was Terra.
“Dazzling,” said Ben.
“But what does it mean?” asked Thruff.
“It means,” said Glinda, “that King Oz’s footsteps will forever be found upon the Lurlian landscape.” On a hunch, she took a step forward; a green shimmer appeared where her foot touched the ground . . . but this time it was not the outline of King Oz’s footprint, it was in the shape of Glinda’s own. “And so will ours. Because the path we forge will be a continuation of the trail he blazed, but we must walk it with our own intentions, at our own speed, toward our own goals. The past gives us direction—we learn from it—but how and when and why we travel must always be of our own design.”
Locasta looked at her with wide eyes, thoroughly impressed.
Norr and Miss Gage nodded, and Ursie beamed. As though to prove Glinda’s theory, Ben took a step in the Makewright’s ancient boots, and they all gasped when the green shimmer beneath his foot rose up from the ground and into the sky, exploding with a soft pop.
“What do you suppose that means?” he asked, laughing.
Glinda shrugged, but she suspected it meant that Benjamin Clay of the New York colony was destined to leave his footsteps—newly informed by his time in Roquat’s collide-o-scope—on another land, a great distance from Oz. It was a thought that made her feel both hopeful and sad at the same time.
Mistress Norr, the five girls, and Thruff (who for some odd reason insisted on calling each of them “swister”) said their farewells and left the castle, eager to be home again. Norr would stay behind to walk back to the mining village with Locasta.
Locasta . . . who was suddenly looking at Glinda with a very grim expression.
“What is it?” Glinda asked, her stomach winding into knots that even Ursie wouldn’t be able to untie. “What’s the matter?”
“There’s something you need to know,” Locasta began gravely. “Something Shade discovered on the road of yellow brick.”
“Your mother was taken by the smoke,” Shade whispered, her eyes sad behind the sweep of her dark hair.
“Taken?” Glinda echoed. “Where is she?”
“I’m sorry,” said Shade, shrugging inside her cape. “I don’t know.”
“I do,” said Thruff. Grinning, he nodded toward the arch that led to the inner bailey.
They all turned in the direction Thruff had indicated, and Glinda let out a cry of sheer delight.
Because walking through the archway, utterly unharmed, was her mother.
35
A PEARL OF WISDOM
Tilda approached them with a serene expression, as though there was nothing at all out of the ordinary about stepping over chunks of broken statue parts outside the Wicked Warrior’s castle.
“Mother! Thank Goodness you’re safe!”
“I’m perfectly fine,” Tilda assured her. “And I’m so glad to find you well as well.” She cast her warm hazel gaze around at the gathering as she drew nearer. “All of you! You all look so very, well . . . well.”
With a broad smile, Norr stepped forward to greet Tilda, for, as Glinda now knew, they were very old friends who’d been present at the birth of this cause. But Tilda spared him only the scantest of nods, as if she didn’t recognize the groundskeeper-turned-Foursworn at all. With her eyes locked firmly on Glinda, she walked right past Locasta’s father, and did not pause until she was standing toe to toe with her daughter. “My darling, Glinda,” she said.
“Hello, Mistress Gavaria!” said Ursie.
“Hello there”—Tilda gave Ursie a polite smile—“little girl.”
Ursie’s cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. “It’s me, ma’am. Remember? Glinda and I used to walk to school together every day. For six years.”
“Oh, yes, of course!” said Tilda. “I’m so sorry. I suppose I’m just a bit frazzled from being in that dungeon all this time.”
“Mother, I have so much to tell you,” Glinda exclaimed, throwing her arms around Tilda. “There was an attack on the academy! You’d never believe it, but it turns out that Trebly Nox is quite the expert with a sling. And Ursie can untie anything.”
“Ursie?” said Tilda, as if she’d never heard the name before.
“Me,” said Ursie again. “Ursie Blauf? My father sells wagon wheels?”
Tilda gave her a loving smile. “Yes. Of course.”
“And then I was part of a battle between the Sea Fairies and the Sea Devils,” Glinda went on. “I saved the Sea Fairies, so they gave me a gift.” She reached into her pocket, feeling around for the pearl.
“Sea Fairies?” Tilda repeated with interest. “How fascinating. Tell me, how exactly did you happen to come across those elusive creatures? Where were you?” She reached out to stroke Glinda’s copper-colored hair. “Where exactly were you?”
“Something’s wrong,” Gage whispered to Norr, at precisely the same moment that Norr said, “Glinda, come over here. Quickly.”
Glinda gave Locasta’s father a bewildered look. “Why must I come there?” she asked, still searching her pocket for the enchanted pearl. “I’m just standing here talking to my—oh! Here it is!” Her fist closed around the pearl.
“Please, Glinda,” said Miss Gage with an anxious wave of her hand. “Please come join us . . . over here . . . now.”
Glinda frowned, withdrawing the pearl from her pocket. “I don’t understand why you’re acting so strangely, Miss Gage. I’m just talking to my mother. Isn’t that right, Mother?”
“Yes,” said Tilda. “That’s right. You’re just talking to your mother.”
It was at that moment that Glinda opened her hand to reveal the pearl.
Which was cold.
And completely black.
CLOSING LETTER
GABRIEL GALE
To Whom It May Confuse:
Perhaps you are wondering about . . . well, a lot of things. That’s what readers do, after all, isn’t it? They wonder. They puzzle over literary hints, and make educated guesses about plot, and generally try to imagine with some degree of accuracy what could possibly happen next, even though they fully want and expect to be surprised by it.
In particular, I hope you are wondering (at least a little bit) about how it came to pass that my name appears in this book as the author of The Compendium of Archaic Ozian Legendencia.
Legendencia, by the way is not a word . . . anymore. But it was then, when the Compendium was penned, a very, very long time ago. When I was younger than I am now, when you were older than you might be later today.
(And now you are wondering about that, aren’t you? If you are, then Lisa Fiedler and I have done our jobs.)
There is more to tell.
And more to wonder.
Not just for you, Reader, but for all of us. Here at home, and there, in Oz. Because the story isn’t over yet. And that of course, is the best part of stories. They keep going.
Even after they have happened.
Even while they are happening.
And sometimes even before they happen.
There are still t
wo Wicked Witches. And there is Magic just waiting to occur. There is Glinda, of course, and there will be . . . oh, what is her name again? The little girl in the blue gingham dress?
Ah, yes . . . Dorothy. Dorothy Gale.
And if you think that’s a hint, then you are undeniably correct!
I remain, as ever, a most faithful Royal Historian of Oz and your eager guide on this Ozian adventure,
Gabriel Gale
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’m lucky to have gained so many new friends from across the country since the first Ages of Oz book was published! My greatest joy has been to meet—either electronically or in person—all the readers and their families, teachers, faculty, librarians, and local bookstore owners that have chosen to join me on this journey through Oz’s past, present, and future. Together over the past year we’ve unleashed so many mythical hybrid beasts that the Wards of Lurl will need to work overtime to clean up after us!
In addition to all those I mentioned in the first book who continue to join me side-by-side on this adventure, namely the incomparable Lisa Fiedler; Ruta Rimas and the team at McElderry; Sue Cohen and the team at Writer’s House; Sebastian Giacobino; Craig Howell; Maria and Nick Makrinos; and Ralph, Joanna, and Karina Succar, I would like to mention here the wonderful people who have been particularly supportive during the time between the first and second Ages of Oz books.
To Marc Baum and his family, and everyone else at Oz-Stravaganza and the All Things Oz Museum in Chittenango, New York, I want to thank you for being the first group to bring Ages of Oz aboard your annual plans. To Clint Steuve and everyone at The Columbian Theater, thank you for bringing me to Wamego, Kansas to enjoy my first OZtoberFest. To Laura Schaefer, we know your Chappaqua book bunnies can speak just like Billina the Hen, so remind them to stop being so scattered and tell us how they prefer their carrots cooked. And to Sally Roesch Wagner, your indomitable spirit and channeling of Matilda Joslyn Gage is a source of continued inspiration through my travels.
To Christine Freglette, your energy is unfathomable. To John Alexander, your magic with words is swift and mighty. To Peter Glassman, the champion of all books of wonder, thank you for your love of Oz. To Victoria and Joseph Cardinale, Wendy Davis-Lupo, and Maryanne Visconti, thank you for introducing this adventurer to new dimensions. To Barbara Vellucci, Irene Hanvey, and Stella Panagakos, you are true loyalists. To Paulette Poulos of the Leadership 100, thank you for your counsel. And to Christina Tettonis of the Hellenic Classical Charter School and Lexy Mayer and Paquita Campoverde of the Brooklyn Public Library, thank you for being the support I can always return to in my hometown.
To Cassie Carlina, who was born from the ethereal magic of her parents Katie and Tom, may that magic guide and support you in all your endeavors as you and your parents have supported me in mine. To Steve Mancuso, Tommy DiLillo, and their families—Bossie and Genevieve Mancuso, and Roseanna, Troy, and Jagger DiLillo—I know we’ll always find the fun in any situation on Earth or in Oz. And to Noelle Luccioni, Maria Georgiadis, Cassandra Meyer, and Stephanie Cicatiello, I will continue to seek your insight and advice.
The Royal Historian and Headmaster of Fireside Institute, John Bush, who has been my chief comrade in the full chronicling of Ages of Oz, would like to thank his lovely wife, Johanna Bush, for her earnest and continual support, Catherine Bush for her lifelong encouragement, Alyssa Delaney and Eugenia Long for their faith and humor, and Dan Delaney and Ryan Long for their dedication. John wishes to specifically acknowledge the contributions of Emerald City Scholars Maahi and Pranav (Moji) Patel, Royal Scout Marcus Pintilie, and Fairy Envoy Autumn Greco.
And finally, to John Fricke, who is always there to keep this adventurer on the Ozzy path. I’ll keep it fun John, not too dark, I promise! Mark my words, we’ll have a hug with the Scarecrow before we reach the end of this road.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
GABRIEL GALE is a science and history buff and a thrill-seeking adventurer, attributes that serve him well as a royal historian of Oz. He lives in the borough of Brooklyn, New York, where he tries to stay out of trouble—although he claims (like a certain noteworthy ancestor of his) to have been transported to the magical Land of Oz on several occasions. When he isn’t fighting rogue Sorcerers, Wizards, and Witches, Gabe is a writer, an artist, an explorer, and above all, a relentless defender of the Good.
LISA FIEDLER is the author of many novels for children and young adults. She divides her time between Connecticut and the Rhode Island seashore, where she lives happily with her very patient husband, her brilliant and beloved daughter, and their two incredibly spoiled golden retrievers.
Learn more at AgesofOz.com!
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ALSO BY LISA FIEDLER
The Mouseheart Trilogy
Mouseheart
Hopper’s Destiny
Return of the Forgotten
Ages of Oz
A Fiery Friendship
MARGARET K. McELDERRY BOOKS
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Fiedler, Lisa, author. | Giacobino, Sebastian, illustrator.
Title: A dark descent / written by Lisa Fiedler ; illustrated by Sebastian Giacobino.
Description: First edition. | New York : Margaret K. McElderry Books, [2018] | Series: Ages of Oz ; 2 | Audience: Ages 12 and under only. | Summary: “After the defeat of one Wicked, the other Witches of Oz are ready for vengeance”—Provided by publisher.
Identifiers: LCCN 2017034400 (print) | LCCN 2017045895 (eBook)
ISBN 9781481469746 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781481469760 (eBook)
Subjects: | CYAC: Fantasy. | Witches—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.F457 (eBook) | LCC PZ7.F457 Dar 2018 (print) | DDC [Fic]—dc23 | LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017034400