Well met, Dorothy, she thought.
She graced them all with an approving smile, and sat. Glinda was hyperaware of their eyes watching her every move and gesture, whether she smiled or frowned. So she carefully adjusted her clothes to lie perfectly, crossed her long legs, and finally looked at Captain Quence.
"I assume you captured the criminal," she said. "Bring her to me."
Glinda couldn't wait to see Dorothy's reaction to her. Did her old friend know anything about her situation? If so, would the Kansas girl be glad to see her, or afraid? Anticipation had Glinda's skin tingling.
"Well, Great One," Captain Quence said, and then hesitated. He looked to the men on his left and right, before turning back to her. She could see fear in his eyes. "We haven't exactly taken her into custody yet."
Her blood turned cold. The casual smile vanished from her face, and the Witch frowned. That was not the answer she expected.
"Do tell?" she replied, studying the Army officer. "Are you having some difficulty placing an eighty-seven year old woman in custody? Is she really putting up that much of a fight?"
"Well… Eighty-seven?" Captain Quence said. He turned to a lieutenant to his left. "Sameron, didn't you said she was a young woman?"
"Yes, sir. She looked late teens to early twenties to me," Lieutenant Sameron said, nodding vigorously. He turned to Glinda. "Great One, maybe she isn't the woman you are seeking. The woman I saw was a dark-haired beauty, though she was wearing silver shoes."
"Come to me," Glinda commanded.
She stood, and he dropped to one knee before her. The Witch leaned over his upturned face, and drew a rune upon his forehead with her wand, before she pressed her forehead to it. His memories flowed into her mind in a rush. Her spell specified the memories she wanted, so Glinda saw what he saw as Dorothy rode up to the village gate.
"Oh my, she is quite a beauty," Glinda whispered.
Long bare legs, busty, and gorgeous brown hair pulled back into long pigtails, tied off by long blue ribbons. Her face was stunning, and she had a sassy presence about her. The Witch could see the child she remembered in the adult before her mind's eyes. It was Dorothy Gale.
After hearing their exchange, and seeing how Dorothy purposely confused him after giving her name, she released Lieutenant Sameron from the spell. He staggered back to his previous spot before her as she returned to her throne.
"That was interesting," Glinda said. Then she leveled cool eyes on the commander. "Where is Dorothy at this moment?"
"She escaped over the walls, Great One," he replied, face flushed. "In our defense, we weren't told she is a witch."
"A witch? Why do you say she is a witch?"
"Um, she said she was, Great One. And she used magical weapons on us," he said. "Fire and thunder, were her words, I'm told." He held out a hand. There was a small gray object in it. "Her weapons hit us with these odd lead arrowheads."
Glinda pointed her wand at it, and drew the appropriate rune. The bullet rose up and flew to her outstretched hand. She paused to examine it. The "arrowhead" was indeed lead, but shaped more like a thick mushroom.
"Where did you get this?"
"We dug it out of one of my men's legs," he said. "Most of the magic arrows passed all of the way through our flesh, but the few that remained look like that."
"Interesting. I've never seen anything like it before," Glinda muttered. "But Dorothy's a witch?"
The fact she escaped was disturbing enough, but she fought her way through some of the Empire's best troops. Dorothy wasn't a bumbling little girl anymore.
"Did anyone else engage with Dorothy?"
"She sold her horse to the stable owner, rented a room at the inn," Captain Quence said. He gave her a weak smile and shrug. "And Sergeant Fredder bedded her."
Glinda's breath caught. That was unexpected. Dorothy had changed a lot. The girl she remembered was quite moral, and even prudish by Ozian standards. Maybe her sassy demeanor with Lieutenant Sameron wasn't a front after all.
"Bring them to me," she commanded. "I wish to interview everyone who spoke with Dorothy."
While they waited, Captain Quence detailed all he was doing to hunt Dorothy down and capture her. They knew she was on the trade road heading downriver, and there was another trade road bisecting it a day's ride away. The other road went down into Winkie Country and the Thursk Desert, so he didn't think she'd take that route.
"This is Yader, the innkeeper, Great One," a Sergeant said as he led a rotund man into the briefing room. Yader looked mid-thirties, with a dark mass of curly hair. He hesitantly approached the Witch. "He rented Dorothy a room and served her food, so spoke to her as much as anyone."
Yader stood before Glinda trembling in his nightshirt. She frowned at him. There was a time no man trembled before her, since she was renowned for her kindness and generosity. But thanks to Scarecrow, she was no longer the all-powerful Good Witch of the South. Now she was the Wizard of Oz's pet enforcer, the Imperial Witch.
"Don't be afraid, good sir," Glinda said with her most soothing voice. "Neither I nor these soldiers will harm you. I just need to know if Dorothy said anything about where she's been, where's she's headed, or what she thought about the kingdom."
"She didn't speak much to me," he said. "She asked for room and board, and complimented my shepherd's stew." He frowned. "Well, she did say my beer tasted watered down, but she said that to Sergeant Fredder. I overheard."
He wasn't worth mindreading. His fear would make the spellcasting harder anyway, and she was still tired from the flight up. Soldiers led an elderly man into the room at that time, so she had someone else to interview.
Glinda gave Yader a penny. "Thank you. That is all."
He bowed and thanked her profusely, all the while backing away quickly. Yader then turned and rushed out. The elderly man was brought forward to face her.
"This is the stable owner, Great One," a soldier said. "His name is Old Vik."
Old Vik squinted at her a long second. His eyes took her in rather boldly, but she just smiled. He was too cute for her to be angry. Besides, old men were given a pass on most things bordering on inappropriate.
"Are you Glinda of the South?"
"I am Glinda Upland."
His smile was big and glorious. "I met you when I was just a wee lad of five. I thought you were the most beautiful creature in all creation, and I still do. You haven't aged a day, Great One."
That last sentence was spoken with more than a little wistfulness. So she engaged him in polite conversation a moment, before asking about his dealings with Dorothy. That made him agitated.
"They took my horse," he said, glancing angrily at Lieutenant Sameron. "He says the girl stole it, so I have to give it back. I paid fifteen pounds for that beast and his tack. I can't afford to lose that much money. How do I get my money back?"
Glinda pulled a small red purse off her belt and opened it. Old Vik watched eagerly as she pulled out a roll of money. She peeled off three five pound notes, and then added a forth.
"And a little something for your trouble, sir," she said, handing him the money. "My apologies if you were inconvenienced in any way." Glinda looked at the soldiers escorting the old man. "Take him home."
"Sergeant Fredder is the last person we know about that spoke with the criminal," Captain Quence said, indicating a fidgeting soldier.
"Come to me," Glinda said, rising from her chair. Sergeant Fredder took a knee before her. "I understand you not only spoke with Dorothy, but seduced her."
"Well, Great One, she said her name was 'Silver' and she really seduced me," he said, giving her a weak smile.
"Interesting," she said. The Witch drew a rune on his forehead. "Relax."
Glinda pressed her forehead to his, and the memories rushed in. That first sight of Dorothy as he entered the inn, and the very interested look she gave him. The Witch felt his excitement as if it was her own, making her breath catch. Warmth flowed through her as his excitement built during their con
versations, kissing, snuggling, and lots of drinking. She got the impression Dorothy was trying to get the soldier drunk. She was quite clever in the way she pumped him for information, while disguising it in a way to make him think it was all about him.
And then they started up to the room. It got intense halfway up the stairs, and she was sure Fredder was going to take Dorothy up against the wall, in the stairwell. But she beguiled him, and manipulated him to perfection, luring the Sergeant up to her room. And then it got crazy.
It was as if both of them lost control of their libidos. Maybe Dorothy wasn't just using her feminine wiles on him. Maybe she really was as horny as the soldier. Before Glinda could steel her emotions for what was coming, those two were all over each other, touching, groping, sucking, nibbling. Glinda cried out softly when Dorothy went down on Fredder, feeling his pleasure in her own sex.
When Sergeant Fredder's memory of mounting Dorothy, and coming deep inside her, hit Glinda, her body mirrored his and erupted with divine pleasure. She had to grab his shoulders to steady herself. Before she broke off their connection, she heard Dorothy continuing her careful prodding for information. So she stayed with it until Fredder fell asleep with her.
"That was…" she whispered, sitting back on her throne a little breathless. "Interesting, and very informative. Thank you, Sergeant. You may leave."
Glinda was grateful the spell was one way. Fredder had no idea what she was receiving, so hopefully didn't realize she'd climaxed every time he had in his memories. That was three times.
"Captain Quence, I will take it from here," Glinda said, rising to her feet. "Carry on with your normal duties. Dorothy is now my problem."
The Witch bit her lip, thinking about all of the things Dorothy did with, and to, Fredder. She had skills. Skills Glinda knew how to exploit to the max.
It's going to be such a joy, Glinda thought, eyes narrowing. Breaking you, Dorothy Gale.
Chapter 11
Clouds moved across the moon, plunging the road into greater darkness. Dorothy reined in her horse, bringing him to a slow walk. It wasn't easy to see the road, and she wasn't sure horses saw any better than people. Even worse, the road was half-washed out in places, and otherwise pretty rough and rocky.
"I'll be shit out of luck if you turn up lame," she muttered and patted his neck.
As best she could tell, not having a watch or anything, she'd been on the run for three or four hours. It was still full dark, with no sign of sunrise approaching. It could be anywhere between midnight and four in the morning.
She knew she was in Oogaboo, and it was a tiny kingdom in the far northwest of the lands of Oz. Emerald City was still a good distance away, but she wasn't sure exactly how far. She'd never thought much about actual distance during her previous visit. It didn't seem like that large of a place back then. Yet, she had a feeling of vastness. Those mountains alone seemed immense, and higher than any she'd seen before.
Dorothy knew the river and road were going westward, but she wasn't sure if that was with a northern or southern tilt. She needed to go south, and then east. Emerald city was in the middle, with the four Countries surrounding it.
"Okay, old boy, we're going to – "
Whoosh!
"What the hell?"
Something swooped down upon her, and barely missed hitting her in the head. She looked around for a bird, or flying monkey. There was a sense of bigness about it, but it was too dark to find what attacked her.
A dark shape caught her eye. It was flying over the river, swinging around back toward her. It only took a second to realize it was someone on a flying carpet. Before her mind could fully process that, the flying carpet was bearing down upon her. She had a glimpse of a woman's shadowy silhouette, long hair whipping behind her, and then the carpet smashed into her.
"Bitch," Dorothy cried upon impact with the ground. "Oh, that hurt."
Her mount went galloping down the road, leaving her far behind. She cursed under her breath as she struggled to her feet. It only took a moment to locate the flying carpet.
"A Witch," she muttered. "Wicked Witch of the West, I guess. Though, this is the Good Witch of the North's Country. I think."
Oogaboo was always disputed territory. North and West both claimed it, but the residents denied both. Dorothy wondered if there was still a dispute now that the Empire controlled the tiny kingdom.
"That's got to be West," she said. "I can't imagine a Good Witch just attacking like that without so much as a who the hell are you?"
The Witch turned toward her. Dorothy started to pull a pistol, but stopped and rethought her tactics. It would be hard to hit a target moving that fast, but the Uzis would put up enough hot lead to hit her once or twice. Maybe.
"I have to stop that flying carpet," she said, and pulled the katana. Dorothy dropped into a defensive stance, sword held at the ready. "Come to momma."
Dorothy braced herself to dart left or right, in case the Witch cast a spell. And that was assuming she could see the spell coming, or at least see her casting it. Unfortunately, the dark mountains in the background helped to hide the incoming Witch. It looked like she was coming in for another smash, too.
"Perfect," Dorothy said, heart starting to race. The flying carpet raced up to her so fast it was hard to track before it was upon her. "Take THAT!"
Dorothy swung the razor sharp katana up and forward, as she lunged forward and dropped to a knee. She felt the resistance as the blade sliced through the middle of it. And then it was past her in a flash, with a feminine squeal of surprise.
She turned just in time to see the two pieces of the carpet fly off in different directions, spinning and swirling crazily, before they crashed into the ground a hundred feet apart. The Witch went screaming straight ahead and vanished into the woods.
There was a pained grunt, and then silence.
Should I go in and finish her off? Or run for it?
Both options held peril. She didn't want to fight toe-to-toe with one of the Cardinal Witches. Of course, it could be a Lesser Witch. Still, she had no defense against magic. Discretion seemed a better option than valor. But if the Witch was still alive, then she would quickly be on the hunt again.
Some of her Kendo training returned, making her think. Once I chose the Way of the Warrior, I am destined to live and die by the sword.
That kind of frightened her. Yet, she'd lived a long, full life. That return to Oz was a bonus of sorts. A chance to right a wrong. A wrong placed squarely on her shoulders, despite her not having any idea what was happening in her absence.
Anger returned, and her hands tightened on the hilt.
"I better finish her off," she said, throat tight. "If I can."
The prospect of killing anyone, even a Wicked Witch, set her heart to racing. She'd killed before her return to Oz, but as a child and hadn't entirely understood what it was all about. Besides, she didn't know water would melt the Witch. It seemed so unreal at the time, and everyone was so happy about it.
"Maybe I can toss her into the river?"
"That won't work with me, Dorothy." The voice came to her in an angry growl. It sounded vaguely familiar. "I suggest you kneel and submit, or this could be very, very ugly."
Dorothy waited for the Witch to step out and reveal herself. Nothing. Uncertainty unsettled the farmgirl, so she quickly sheathed her sword and took up both Uzis.
"Step out and let's discuss it."
"Funny girl," her mysterious foe said. She didn't sound amused. "I've heard about your battle magic. Set your talismans aside, and then we can speak face-to-face."
"Good idea. Break your wand in half and toss it out where I can see it, and then I'll set aside my weapons," she replied. "And even then you'll have access to powerful magic. Doesn't seem fair."
"Fair? Since when is life fair?" the Witch said. "I can see you, but you cannot see me. I have the advantage already."
"Good point," Dorothy said. "Die!"
She opened up with both Uzi submachine g
uns. The Witch cried out in pain, and fell silent. Didn't matter. Dorothy emptied her magazines, reloaded, and emptied them again. And then she took off running. A wounded Witch was no threat to her, and if she killed her… Well, she'd rather not see a dead body.
~**~~**~
Glinda sucked in air furiously. She could feel herself fading away. The prospect of death chilled her to the bone. When the sound of Dorothy's death-dealing talisman ended, she held her breath and listened intently. Would the young woman come into the dark woods to find her, and end her once and for all? Could Dorothy kill her in cold blood like that?
After only a moment, the Witch heard the sound of running feet. Dorothy had chosen to run away. Thank goodness. Where's my wand?
She was sprawled out on her back in the thick leaves. Glinda struggled over onto her belly and looked around. Her ivory wand glowed softly about a dozen feet away. She swallowed hard, sucked in a deep breath, and began crawling. The lead arrowheads in her body hurt so badly, yet she couldn't stop. To give up was to die. It wouldn't take much longer to bleed out. Coldness was already starting to creep in. Only her magically fortified body kept her alive so far.
The closer she got, the harder it became to continue. All she wanted was to get her hands on that wand. She didn't have enough strength of body to channel magic without its help. So slowly she crawled, inch by inch, until her cold fingers finally wrapped around its warm shaft.
"Yes," she whispered, and rolled over onto her back. Slowly drawing the needed runes in the air, she made sure it was perfect, and magic erupted deep within. Heat flushed through her body, making her cry out and her back bow dramatically. Then she cast the spell again, and again. Dorothy's killer lead was slowly pushed out of her chest and belly, and the many wounds on her arms and legs healed without so much as a scar.
"That was close. Too close," she gasped out, feeling even more spent than after the flight up from the capital. "I'll have to be more careful next time Dorothy and I tangle."
Off To Kill the Wizard (Return to Oz With a Vengeance Book 1) Page 6