Yellow Brick War (Dorothy Must Die, #3)(38)



“I do not see the wisdom of this course of action,” Mombi muttered, but Glamora ignored her.

“Wait here for me,” she said, and rose up into the air.

“She’s right,” Gert said. “This is her battle. Let her fight it, Mombi.”

“This is a terrible idea,” Mombi growled, shaking off Gert’s restraining hand. But like the rest of us, she hurried anxiously to the edge of the balcony, peering over it.

Even from the balcony I could see the tension in the line of Glinda’s shoulders. Despite her army, despite all her magic, it was clear that some part of her was afraid. Glamora had waited so long for this moment, carrying this hatred and desire for vengeance for years. I’d be afraid even if I had an army at my back, too.

No, I was afraid.

“There’s no use trying to stop her,” Gert said in a low voice. “But we need to come up with a backup plan—now. Dorothy will likely be on her way any minute. If Glinda found us here, she can’t be far behind.”

While Gert spoke, Glamora was floating regally toward her sister, and as she moved through the air her gown fell away, leaving her naked. It barely registered, because then she was shedding her skin, too, like a snake sheds its scales. Underneath it, her body was purple and glittering in the sun.

Instead of giving herself armor, Glamora had become the armor. Her hair, her skin, her limbs. All of her was now bright and faceted. She was now a living jewel. Everyone was speechless at the sight of it.

The only one who didn’t look shocked at the transformation was Glinda, who simply nodded in acknowledgment.

The two witches now circled each other in the air, Glamora a bright shadow of her sister’s form. Glinda’s usually sweet face was set in a mask of naked hatred made even more terrifying by the sickly sweet PermaSmile.

The air turned dark and thick, forming itself into a cloud that slowly took the shape of a huge serpent with its head rearing back to strike. Glinda flicked an arm upward and a spear of pink light struck Glamora’s serpent in the chest, dissolving it momentarily. Glamora brought her arm down, and the serpent re-formed, undulating around her in black coils. She snapped her wrist, and a bolt of pure power shot toward Glinda, who ducked at the last minute. Instinctively, I reached for my knife—and it materialized in my hand.

“Amy, what are you doing?” Nox hissed.

“If Glinda is distracted, we can rescue Ozma—and Pete, too,” I said, heading for the door.

“You can’t use magic!” Mombi barked.

“The knife doesn’t count,” I said. “It was a present.” Nox opened his mouth to protest and then shut it again, shaking his head.

Mombi sighed. “I’ll stay here with Gert to see if there’s a way we can help Glamora. Nox, you, Melindra, and Amy look for a way to rescue the princess and her traitorous other half. Annabel, we’ll need fighters here, too.” The girls nodded.

But I wasn’t the only one who’d had the brilliant idea of taking action while the sisters battled it out. Suddenly, the castle shuddered around us. We hurried back to the edge of the balcony and looked down. Glinda’s girl army had moved a battering ram up to the castle doors—but this wasn’t an ordinary battering ram. It was huge, glittery, pink, and shaped like—

“Is that a Munchkin?” Nox gasped in horror. Glinda’s twisted magic had transformed an ordinary Ozian into a giant, fossilized pink weapon. The Munchkin’s face was twisted in horror, his eyes squeezed shut as though he was still in terrible pain. Pink flames burned in his open mouth, dripping onto the ground where they sizzled and smoked like molten pink lava. Even as we watched, Glinda’s soldiers drew back and lunged forward, slamming into the door with terrific force.

“We can’t help him now, and that door won’t hold forever,” Gert said grimly. “We’d better prepare ourselves.”





TWENTY-ONE


None of us needed a second prompting. We raced downstairs to the palace’s main entryway, where the big wooden doors were already splintering. Gert, Mombi, and Nox joined hands, power flickering around them as they prepared to face Glinda’s army. I tightened my grip on my knife. With a huge cracking noise, the doors burst open, sending chunks of wood flying through the air. Mombi flicked her fingers, and the pieces froze in midair and then clattered harmlessly to the ground. The first girls were already clambering through the hole in the doors, spears at the ready. Nox hurled a ball of magic at the invaders, and one girl shrieked in agony as it struck her full in the torso. She fell to the ground, her armor smoking, but more girls were already climbing over her inert body.

I ran forward, my knife raised. Up close, Glinda’s soldiers were terrifying. They’d filed their gleaming white teeth into sharp points bared by their eerie PermaSmile grins. Their armor crawled with tiny pink bugs that jumped at their opponents, buzzing and stinging. I knocked a soldier’s spear out of her hand with one blow and cut her throat on the reverse swing, kicking her body out of the way as another girl came for me in her place. “Are they clones?” I screamed across the hall to Nox, who was battling two more of Glinda’s soldiers. The girls didn’t even register my question, and Nox was too busy to answer it. “What are you?” I asked the girl I fought now. “Why are you fighting for Glinda?” She bared her sharp teeth and lunged toward my throat. “Fine,” I said, and stabbed her through the heart.

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