The Wicked Will Rise (5 page)

That was a lie, of course. Mombi had never once mentioned Queen Lulu. But royal types can never resist flattery. Lulu's eyes softened.

“Well,” she mused. “It's true that I try to keep up with the latest news. The Order isn't the only one with spies. Even up here, it does pay to have the scoop—and I
am
the queen.”

“Please,” I pushed. “I just want to know—I
need
to know where they are.”

Lulu just sighed. “Sorry, toots,” she said. “Only thing I know is that your hag Mombi worked her old abracadabra and went right up in smoke. Took her pals with her. Poof! All I've heard since are the sweetest nothings.”

“What about . . . ,” I started.

She put a hand up to stop me and checked an imaginary watch at her wrist. “I believe my next appointment is coming up,” she said irritably. “Now shoo. I'm a very busy monarch. If you want someone who can sit around making small talk, I'd try the Duchess of Tree People. She's the biggest blabbermouth you'll ever find.”

When I still didn't move to leave, Lulu's patience finally decided she was over it. “Begone!” she yelled, picking up a banana and hurling it across the room like a boomerang, aiming right for my face. I ducked just in time for it to bounce off my head.

I was done. I'd heard about the types of things monkeys liked to fling, and I was pretty sure I was getting off easy with just a banana. This was my cue to leave.

But as I was heading out into the night, ready to make my way back down into the jungle, I heard a rustling in the trees, and then the low chirping of monkey voices. The queen's council. I couldn't quite hear what they were saying, but from the tone of their whispers, it sounded important.

I knew I had promised, but I couldn't help myself. It came so easily this time that I barely even thought about what I was doing: I felt myself sinking into the shadows. As four monkeys approached the queen's chambers, I slithered after them. They let the door slam shut behind them, and didn't even notice when I passed right through it.

Everything was different in my shadow world—wherever it was. It was sort of like back home when we tried to steal cable
from the trailer next door and everything came out kind of staticky and garbled and sometimes upside down, but you could make it out if you kind of squinted and moved your face really close to the screen.

The queen's throne room flickered and wavered, but I saw four monkeys clustered around at her feet. At first it sounded like they were all speaking some other language, but the longer I listened the more I was able to catch snatches of the conversation until finally I managed to make some sense of it.

“We cannot have her here,” a monkey in green corduroy overalls and a propeller beanie was saying. “You didn't see her . . .”

Lulu waved him off. “I wish I had,” she said. “You want the truth, I wish she'd finished him right off. The Lion can rot. See if I care.”

“You don't understand. She was . . . she was not human. Something overtook her—a darkness unlike anything I have ever encountered.”

I jolted. They were talking about me. Even though I had some idea of how I'd looked when I'd been fighting the Lion, I didn't like to hear it described like this.

But it was true. I had touched the dark, and I had liked it. And as much as I wanted to think that it was just a case of getting carried away in the fight, it wasn't so simple. How could it be, when I was watching them through this cold, eerie veil of shadows?

“I must agree, Queen Lulu,” said a monkey in a curly red wig. “Princess Ozma is one thing, but the presence of the other
one puts all of us in danger.”

“She is a—”

“Enough!” Lulu snapped. “I'm the boss, applesauce, and the boss-lady has made up her mind. The little witch stays. The princess stays. I have my reasons. Now tell me what you hear of the rest of Oz. Has Dorothy been found?”

A monkey wearing a pink velour sweat suit rose to her feet. “We believe that Princess Dorothy has fled the city, along with the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman. No one has seen them since last night.”

“Glinda?”

“Glinda was gravely wounded in battle and is thought to have returned to her fortress.”

“Oh, of course,” Lulu sniffed. “That witch talks a big game, but she couldn't be a bigger candy-ass if she dropped her pink little undies and sat on a pile of gumdrops. Now what about the rest of the witches—what about the Order?”

I held my breath, and then realized I had no breath to hold. When I was a shadow, I didn't have a body.

The monkey council exchanged a look amongst themselves. “We . . . ,” the one in the sweat suit began. “We don't know. They may be dead. Or they may be alive. We simply—”

Lulu screeched and gnashed her teeth, waving her fan wildly. “If I wanted a load of baloney, I would've had a cold cut platter brought in!” she screamed. “Are any of you going to tell me something useful?”

Finally the smallest of the monkeys, a tiny marmoset in a
fez and a red bolero who had been silent until now, spoke up. “Funny things are afoot across the land, Your Highness,” she said carefully.

Queen Lulu raised an eyebrow, which was strange because until that moment I hadn't even realized that she had eyebrows. “Funny . . .
ha-ha
?” she asked hopefully.

“Not exactly. Funny strange. As we suspected, the magic that Glinda and Dorothy had been siphoning off seems to be coming back—we believe it has something to do with the actions of the Order. They must have destroyed some mechanism that was piping it into the city. It's having some odd effects. We need to be aware of it in case it causes any disruptions to our home.”

“More magic,” Queen Lulu sighed. “Whoopee. Just what we need.”

But my ears perked up. This was the first I had heard of anything like that. I'd thought that last night was just about killing Dorothy. No one had told me about any plan beyond that.

“There's something else,” the monkey in the bolero said. “With Dorothy and her allies gone, it's unclear who is occupying the palace—but something is happening there.”

“Cut to the chase, please,” Lulu said. “I don't know what ‘something' means.
What's
happening to the palace?”

The monkey looked nervous. “Well,” she said. “For one thing, it seems to be growing.”

As it turned out, there really
was
a giant waterfall up here in the trees. It was easy to find; I only had to follow a series of signs that led through the maze of walkways in the trees until I heard the sound of rushing water in the distance. Ollie hadn't been kidding around. Even though we were so high up that it was hard to imagine there was anything above us, a bright blue river was raging down from the sky.

It was spilling from somewhere over the treetops and crashing through an opening in the canopy into a series of basins the size of swimming pools, built into the tree trunks like stairs. The water cascaded over the edge of one and into the next, overflowing and spilling off into endlessness as it continued its unstoppable course toward the jungle floor.

In the pools, groups of monkeys were frolicking happily, scrubbing themselves and playing, hooting and doing backflips and cannonballs. They were having fun.

Looking at it like this, Oz didn't seem so bad after all, and I stood there for a minute, just watching them play. It took me a few seconds to figure out why it looked so strange: this was the first time since I'd gotten to Oz that I'd actually felt like I was in the place I'd always known from books and movies. A place with witches and monsters, yes, but a place that was magical and joyful and, in the end, beautiful. A place that was happy.

It was the first time since I'd gotten here that I'd actually seen anyone really having fun.

Then I understood what Queen Lulu had been saying to me. This was why she wanted to stay out of it, why she wanted the monkeys to just keep to themselves and let the rest of Oz fight for power. The monkeys had made a place for themselves, and they wanted to enjoy it.

Would it be so bad to stay up here, I wondered? To just say
screw it
to the promises I'd made—to the war that was going on below us—and never go back down there to fight, and kill, and maybe die?

But it didn't matter. I couldn't stay. Not because I'm such a good person, but because I knew this happy feeling wouldn't last. You can't just cover your eyes and pretend like terrible things aren't happening simply because you can't see them, even if that is something that would seem like a good idea to a monkey.

Evil will always catch up with you. That's why you have to get to it first.

I turned away, and realized that I was standing at the entrance to a tree house with the words “Princess Suite” burned into the
door in elaborate but sloppy cursive.

Princess Suite
. This had to be my room. I hoped it lived up to its name. After the day I'd had, I was ready for a little royal treatment.

The inside of the so-called Princess Suite wasn't lavish—I'm pretty sure my servant's quarters back in the Emerald Palace had been almost as big—and with only one room it wasn't much of a suite. But it was cozy and welcoming, illuminated by sunfruit that floated along the edge of the ceiling. In opposite corners of the room, situated under tented curtains of gauzy mosquito netting that could be pulled shut for privacy, were hammocks woven from large palm fronds. Ozma was sitting on one of the hammocks. She lit up and waved when she saw me.

“Hey,” I said. Ozma smiled and fluttered her eyelashes. She shook out her hair.

It wasn't a surprise that I was tired. Of course I was tired. The surprising part was that I was only feeling it now. I stripped off the servant's dress I'd been wearing for Dorothy's big party, now tattered and blood-crusted from my fight with the Lion, and sank heavily into the free hammock opposite the one in which Ozma was swinging happily back and forth, twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

As I lay down, I realized why she looked so content: the hammock conformed to my body perfectly, and maybe it was just that anything would have felt good at that moment, but it almost seemed to be massaging my aching muscles. It was like one of those vibrating chairs at one of those gadget stores at the mall,
except better because it didn't make my butt feel numb.

I closed my eyes. I had a plan, and that plan was to fall asleep.

I wasn't going to think about anything. I wasn't going to dwell on anything that had happened, or on what was going to happen next. I was just going to forget the world.

I'd had trouble sleeping when I was little. I was always worrying about things, and so my mother had taught me a trick to clear my mind that I've used ever since. You close your eyes and relax and try to keep your breathing steady, and every time a stray thought enters your head, you picture it inside a soap bubble. Then you just blow the bubble away, and pretty soon you'll be out like a light. Works every time.

It was a skill that was coming in handy around here. When you don't know what's happening tomorrow, it's important to get your sleep where you can—because who knows the next time you'll have a decent pillow? Or any pillow at all, for that matter.

Tonight I had more than the usual amount of thoughts to fend off. Actually, it was just one thought that kept returning stubbornly, no matter how many times I tried to banish it, of the fantasy I'd had while I'd been fighting the Lion, not just of killing him, but ripping him to shreds. Of the satisfaction I had taken in causing him pain, and the way I had wanted to laugh when I hurt him.

The monkeys were all terrified of me—even Ollie had seemed scared. I was a little scared of
myself
, to tell the truth.

But I had liked it, too. Even now, a part of me wished that
Ozma hadn't stopped me, that I had done all those things to the Lion that I had wanted to.

I could still feel the thrill that had shivered through me when I had looked down to see black magic spilling from my knife and into my body, and I already missed it. I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't help it. I wanted to feel like that again.

And I'm not even sure if I fell asleep or not. What came next could have been a dream, but it didn't feel like one. It didn't feel like real life either. It felt like I'd taken a wrong turn somewhere on the way to dreaming, and had gotten lost, stuck in between the world of awake and asleep.

It was night and I was walking through a forest dense with thin twisted trees. For some reason I wasn't wearing shoes, and slimy moss squished under my bare feet. I had somewhere to be, and so I was moving quickly, following a path that I somehow knew by heart even though it was too dark to see anything.

I had no idea what I was looking for, but I had the gnawing sense that there was something in these woods that I had lost—something that I had to get to.

So I moved through brambles and leaves and vines, feeling leaves scratching my face, stepping easily over branches and roots without even thinking about it. I was alert for danger, but I wasn't the slightest bit scared. I felt a soft breeze on my face and it felt good.

In the distance, I heard an owl hooting, its call getting louder with every step I took, while at the same time the trees got straighter and taller and closer. I could have used magic to light
my way, but I didn't mind the dark, and so I kept on going until finally I found myself in a small and perfectly circular clearing. The full moon hung as big as a pancake in the sky, looking spooky and cartoonish at the same time and illuminating the clearing in a ghostly silver light.

In the middle of the clearing was a dark shape. There was something strange about it: it was both clear and indistinct at the same time, solid and real but blurry at the edges. I couldn't quite judge the shape or size of it. Was it some kind of injured animal? Or something weirder?

Whatever it was, there was something off about it—maybe even evil. Just looking at it made me feel a little light-headed, made the hairs on my arms stand on end.

But it also made me a little excited. And instead of running, or even hesitating, I took a step toward it. As I did, four heads turned toward me.

Because what I'd thought was a single animal was actually four hunching, cloaked figures who were huddled so close together that they appeared to have merged into one being. As they looked up, the moonlight hit their pinched, rotting faces, each one tinted a different shade of green, and I saw that they were each wearing raggedy, pointed hats.

All at once, the four figures opened their mouths and began to hiss.

Witches.

I took another step forward, and then another, feeling more confident the closer I got to them until I was filled with a
sensation that was something like joy. Their hissing grew feverish and high-pitched, and then, when I had almost reached them, they began to disappear, melting like black candles into the ground. Then they were gone, and I knew that I had found what I was looking for. In the ground, in the place where they had huddled, was a small pool that bubbled in the center. A fountain with water so black that it looked like liquid shadow.

I knelt to examine it, but before I could dip my finger in, something began to emerge from the water; a newer, darker figure that slowly began to take shape. From the dark and glittering mass of shadows, a girl emerged. There, standing in front of me, was Ozma.

It was the same Ozma I knew, except that it wasn't. She had the same emerald green eyes and red poppies in her hair, the same tiny, delicate frame. But her skin was glowing, and her hair was swirling around her face in ropy skeins as thick as snakes. Her pupils were tiny flames.

And from her back sprouted two huge black butterfly wings, twice as big as her body and etched with an elaborate gold pattern. As she flapped them gently, they crackled with energy.

She extended a hand in my direction.

“Rise,” she said. I felt my feet leave the ground.