Yellow Brick War Page 67


“Lulu, there’s no way—” I began, but Lulu’s face shut down. There was no arguing with her. She was too angry, and I couldn’t really blame her. But I knew I’d done the right thing.

“Worthless,” Lulu muttered, turning away in disgust. I stood up, about to go after her, but stopped in shock at the landscape in front of me. Where the Emerald Palace had stood, an angry slash like a scar cut across the earth. Around it, everything was wasteland. The gardens were gone. Rubble was strewn across what had been the palace grounds. And as for the palace itself, there was nothing left. It was as if it had never been there at all.

Gert, Glamora, and Mombi were walking toward us, looking seriously the worse for wear. Like me and Nox, they were filthy and bloodied, but their faces were bright with triumph. “Gert!” I exclaimed happily, and she folded me up in an enormous hug.

“My dear,” she said. “I was worried I’d never see you again. But you’ve done it. You’ve killed her.”

“I didn’t kill her,” I said, and explained all over again what had happened. Mombi raised an eyebrow. Gert was silent. And Glamora just looked at us with a strange, unreadable expression on her face.

“She’s defeated,” I said. I was starting to feel like a broken record. Why did no one think I’d done the right thing? Was Nox doubting me, too?

“For now, at least,” Mombi said.

“She has to be dead,” I protested.

“Not if you didn’t kill her, she doesn’t,” Mombi said. But then she relented. “You’re right, though. She’s not going anywhere for now, at least.”

“We guessed you’d won because the tin soldiers stopped working all at once,” Glamora added. “Dorothy’s power was the only thing animating them.”

“And a good thing, too,” Mombi added. “Our geese were just about cooked. Another minute of fighting, and we’d have been done. Even we aren’t strong enough to hold off a clockwork army forever.”

“Same thing in the city,” Lulu said. “All the buildings are leveled. Your work?”

“I’m guessing Dorothy’s,” Nox said. “Or, more accurately, the power from the Great Clock. She set it loose without being able to control it.”

“And I destroyed it,” I said.

But Nox shook his head. “The Great Clock is at the heart of Oz. It can’t be destroyed any more than Lurline’s pool can. It’ll turn up again.”

“Lurline!” Lulu scoffed. “That’s just a kiddie story. Nobody believes in that claptrap anymore.” Ozma looked startled, and I wondered if she’d understood that Lulu had just dismissed the existence of her ancestor.

“Hardly,” I said. “I met her. In fact, she gave me something.” I pulled the amulet she’d given me out of my pocket. Glamora’s eyes lit up and she reached for it. Something about her look was so greedy that I snatched my hand away instinctively. “It’s not mine. She said I’d know when the time was right to give it to someone,” I said defensively, and then my gaze fell on Ozma.

She was looking at the amulet with her head cocked to one side, like a cat waiting outside a mouse hole. “Pool,” she said distinctly. The smoke-filled stone began to glow. Of course, I thought. Lurline’s gift wasn’t for me. It was for her great-great-great-granddaughter. Without a word, I handed the amulet to Ozma. She looped the chain over her head and the amulet settled on her chest.

“We should wait—” Glamora began, but it was too late. The amulet flashed once, and a glow in Ozma’s green eyes matched its brilliant light. Her long dark hair whipped around her as if stirred by an invisible breeze, and her big gold-edged wings unfurled from her back, crackling with magic. She stretched her arms out as if she’d just come to the end of the world’s most excellent yoga class and gave a huge sigh of satisfaction. When the light faded from her eyes, they were clear.

“Oh my,” she said with a sigh of relief. “That’s much better.”

THIRTY-FIVE

“Princess,” Lulu breathed. “You’ve returned.” She sank to one knee in a sweeping, courtly bow. After a second, Mombi knelt, too. Then Gert, and then Nox, who elbowed me in the ribs. I yelped and then took the hint, curtsying before Ozma, who nodded regally. Only Glamora didn’t bow. Ozma looked her dead in the eye, and finally, she knelt, never taking her eyes off the princess.

“You do not think I am myself,” Ozma said, bemused.

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