No Place Like Oz: A Dorothy Must Die Prequel Novella(29)

“Really?” I carefully sat down on the bench next to her. “Why?”

She pressed a lock of her perfect hair behind her ear sheepishly. “Oh, who can say? It’s quiet, for one thing. No one bothers me in here—I don’t even think anyone else knows how to get in. In here, I don’t have to be a princess. The strange thing is that in here I’m more alone than anywhere else, and yet it’s the one place I don’t feel quite so lonely.”

“Oh,” I said. I didn’t know how else to answer that. Who wouldn’t want to be the ruler of your very own magical kingdom? I could think of at least ten girls back home who would gladly claw each other’s eyes out for the privilege.

“Maybe it’s because of what happened here,” Ozma said. “Maybe that’s why I like it.”

I gave her a blank stare. I didn’t know what she was talking about.

“Can’t you tell? This is the place where Oz began.”

I looked at the ring of squat little trees, branches heavy with round, red fruit. Pomegranate.

I looked at the puddle, and saw that it wasn’t a puddle at all, but a pool that bubbled up from deep within the earth. Floating in the center, so tiny that I’d missed it at first, was a brilliant green lily pad with a vibrant red flower at the center, its petals as red and glittering as rubies.

This was the spring that Lurline had found. This was where all of Oz’s magic came from. I was at the source of all of it.

My shoes burned.





Thirteen

The peculiar sight of Aunt Em and Uncle Henry dressed in some of the finest clothes in Oz greeted me in the great drawing room of the palace. They were draped in colorful silks and satins and their collars were so high that they couldn’t turn their heads.

It wasn’t just their clothes that had been gussied up either—apparently someone had seen fit to style their hairdos according to the latest Oz fashions. Uncle Henry’s hair had been swept up into a funny little triangle and his beard was trimmed into a sharp point. Aunt Em’s hair, freshly coiffed into a gigantic updo, had been dyed a ridiculous lime shade with emerald combs holding it tightly in place.

Even poor Toto hadn’t been spared. He looked like a giant black puffball, his fur blown out so that he was twice his normal size. The greatest indignity of all was that they had tied a bright green ribbon around his neck.

I couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. They looked wonderful by Oz standards of course, but I wasn’t used to seeing Uncle Henry out of his coveralls, or Aunt Em out of her gray muslin frock.

They all glared at me. Toto snarled.

Ozma entered the sitting room a moment after me. “My, don’t you look wonderful!” she exclaimed at the sight of them. “Like real members of the court.” They glared at her, too. This was as mad as I’d seen them since the time that the Shiffletts down the way had let the cows loose and they’d trampled Aunt Em’s prize petunias.

I clasped my hands together, quickly changing the subject. “I have something wonderful to tell you!” I gushed, hoping to sweep them up in my excitement.

“You brought me a pair of coveralls and some old work boots?” Uncle Henry asked.

I shook my head, grinning from ear to ear. “Better! Princess Ozma has invited the Lion and the Tin Man to come visit us in the palace tomorrow.”


Ozma had informed me of the plan after we’d left the maze when we were heading back to the castle. She’d sent word to the Lion and the Tin Woodman that I was back as soon as she’d heard herself, and the Saw-Horse was already on his way to fetch them. Tomorrow, they would be here. We would all be together again, just like before.

It was all more perfect than I could have imagined. It was so perfect that, for a minute, I let myself forget that Glinda was missing. There was no use fretting about it now anyway—when my friends arrived, we’d be able to put our heads together and try to figure out what had happened to her. In the meantime, I didn’t see the harm in enjoying myself.

I may have shoved the thought of home conveniently from my mind for now, but Uncle Henry and Aunt Em weren’t going to let me forget it.

They struggled to look at each other over the folds of their enormous clothes.

“That’s a very lovely offer from Miss Ozma,” Uncle Henry said carefully. “But this has gone on long enough. It’s time we find your friend Glinda and head on home.”

At the name Glinda, Ozma turned sharply toward me.

“Glinda?” she asked. For the briefest of instants, I thought I saw a fire behind her green eyes.

“Well,” I said, thinking fast. “Uncle Henry and Aunt Em do so want to go home. And Glinda was the one who sent me home last time . . . so . . .”

“So it’s high time that we go back to the farm!” Uncle Henry said, nearly shouting. Aunt Em put a calming hand on his shoulder, but it only got him more worked up. He tugged at his collar. “Enough of this royal bull-pucky!” he barked. Then, noticing that Ozma was still standing right there, he got even more flustered. “I mean, begging your pardon, your royal Ozma.”

The princess shook her head kindly as if she would never think of being offended.

As usual, Aunt Em was slightly more diplomatic than Henry. Grasping my hands, she said, “I’m just not so sure this is the right place for us, Dorothy. We’re not cut out for palaces and fancy frocks like these. The only princess I ever knew before this was the Sunflower Princess at the state fair, and she’s not really a real princess at all, if you think about it.”