Yellow Brick War (Dorothy Must Die, #3)(9)

The witches let me sleep in. The tent was empty and I could see through its delicate silk walls that the sun was high in the sky by the time I sat up, yawning and stretching. I didn’t feel all the way rested, exactly, but I did feel a lot better. I wondered how long it had been noon for, and then I remembered we weren’t in Oz anymore. The sun here moved because the earth was spinning on its axis, not because some crazy power-hungry bitch decided it should be sunny for as long as she felt like it. I wasn’t thrilled about being back in Kansas, but that part at least was a nice change.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Glamora said, sticking her head through the tent flap. “Mombi ate all the bacon, but I’m sure we can whip up some more. She says it’s important to sample the local delicacies as long as we’re here.” I laughed out loud at the idea of anyone calling bacon a “local delicacy,” but my stomach growled loudly, and even Glamora giggled.

I couldn’t use magic to fix myself up, so I dragged my fingers through my dirty hair and straightened my clothes as best I could. Gert’s magical cleansing vision had been all in my head. I was pretty distinctly in need of a real bath, but I decided not to worry about that either. If my mom wanted a pretty princess, she could brush my hair herself. I’d had about enough of other people’s expectations.

Nox was wrapping himself up in his Quadrant cloak, obviously preparing to go somewhere. He refused to meet my eyes. The distance between us that had sprung up last night felt even stronger now. I wanted to say something to him, reach out. But I didn’t know how to cross the gulf I’d somehow created. I’d been the one to push him away, but I was already regretting it.

“Where are you going?” I asked in a low voice, and he practically flinched.

“Gert and Glamora want me to protect—” he began, but Glamora cut him off with a breezy wave of her hand. Gert and Glamora exchanged glances.

“We’re sending him out to do reconnaissance. Make sure the area is safe.”

Safe? That was a joke. The scariest thing about Dusty Acres was how empty it was. There was obviously something they weren’t telling me. Nox mumbled something incoherent that could have been “good-bye,” “I love you,” or “go to hell,” and stalked off toward the road into town.

I caught Gert studying me with a soulful expression that seemed almost sympathetic. They were trying to keep us apart, I realized. If Nox and I couldn’t be together, the witches were going to make sure we weren’t around to distract each other. I felt a brief surge of fury. Shouldn’t that be up to us? Did I not get a say in my own life? What game were they playing anyway? I’d already decided to keep my distance from Nox. But that was my decision, not theirs.

After a picnic-style breakfast of bacon and eggs, Glamora waved the dishes and picnic blanket away, and I stood up. “I want to get this over with,” I said tiredly. “Where’s my mom?”

Apparently, Gert had been using her extended involuntary Kansas vacation for recon as well as recovery. “I used what we already knew from the vision of your mother you saw in my cave,” she explained. “Her hut is right near the high school.”

“At least I won’t have to take the bus to school,” I said. “And it’s called an apartment.”

Mombi snorted. “Keep your attitude in check, missy.”

The apartment where my mom was living wasn’t far from Dusty Acres, either, and we all agreed it would be better if I just walked there. Glamora was more tired than she should have been from whipping up our tent and breakfast, and Gert and Mombi admitted Kansas was having an effect on their magic, too. At least it wasn’t just me who was suffering, although it wasn’t much comfort knowing the witches would have a hard time helping me if anything went wrong. Quadrant or no Quadrant, I was on my own.

It seemed like a bad idea to use their power to transport me a distance I was perfectly capable of walking. The witches offered to escort me, but I only laughed.

“Yeah, right,” I said. “No offense, but this is the twenty-first century. I’m going to have a hard enough time explaining how I got here, let alone three old bats who look like extras from a senior citizens’ Dungeons and Dragons role-playing party.”

Mombi smoothed her blue cloak huffily. “We don’t have dragons in Oz,” she said.

“Never mind,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m fine on my own.”

Gert stepped forward and hugged me, and for a second I let myself get lost in her familiar, comforting embrace. No matter how much the witches had kept from me, and no matter how much I felt like they were using me half the time for some secret, complicated plan of their own, Gert’s hugs were still the best. Somehow, she always managed to make me feel like everything was going to be okay. Even when it pretty clearly wasn’t.

“We won’t be with you here, Amy,” she said. “Mombi will take us all into the Darklands to wait. We’ll be safe there, and we can conserve our power.”

“Great,” I said. “So I can’t use my magic, I’m completely on my own, I have barely any time to accomplish the basically impossible task you’ve given me, and on top of all that, I have to move back in with my mom.”

Glamora nodded earnestly, her blue eyes wide. “Yes,” she said. “That’s really all you have to do.”