No Place Like Oz: A Dorothy Must Die Prequel Novella(30)

No, I thought. She most certainly was not. “I know it all seems silly to you, Dorothy,” she went on. “But the farm is all your uncle and I have. What do you suppose the poor animals are eating?”

Ozma stepped in. “Time moves differently here in Oz than it does back in your world,” she explained to my aunt and uncle patiently, even though it had already been explained to them. “It’s more than likely your animals haven’t even noticed you’ve been gone.”

“I don’t . . . ,” Uncle Henry started. But he’s old-fashioned enough that when a princess talks to him, he listens. And at this moment, Ozma was acting every bit a princess. I was starting to see that she could turn it on and off, just like that.

“You certainly wouldn’t want Dorothy to miss seeing her old companions, would you? And I know that the Tin Woodman and the Lion have been so looking forward to meeting you, too. Please, just stay for tomorrow’s dinner.”

“And then?” Uncle Henry asked.

Ozma smiled kindly. “Well,” she said. “I’m afraid Glinda can’t help you. She’s been missing for some time now, and I’ve already searched the kingdom high and low for her.” She glanced at me. “I’m sure she’s safe—nothing could possibly harm a witch as powerful as she is—but wherever she is, she’s hidden herself well.”

Ozma had been so funny and open and warm—nothing like what I’d imagined. I’d heeded the Scarecrow’s warnings not to tell her about the shoes, or to ask directly about Glinda, but I’d started to mostly dismiss the idea that she could have done anything to her.

Now I was unsure again. I had the strongest feeling she was lying to me.

“I’m not experienced with the type of magic it would take to send you all back to Kansasland,” Ozma continued. Her warm, smooth voice had just enough of a tone of authority to silence my aunt and uncle into submission, for now. “But after tomorrow, I’ll begin looking into ways to send all of you back. I’m sure I can find something.”

Uncle Henry and Aunt Em were nodding in resigned agreement, but I was surprised to feel my entire body shaking with anger, my fists clenched so tightly they hurt.

“No!” I shouted. The marble floors magnified the sound of my voice several times over, but I didn’t care. “No, no, no!”

Aunt Em and Uncle Henry’s jaws both dropped in astonishment. They’d seen me lose my temper before, of course, but never like this. Even Ozma turned and looked at me like she was seeing me for the first time.

I was surprised at myself, even. It wasn’t like me to behave this way. I just didn’t care.

“I’m not going back there,” I said. “Not now, not tomorrow, and not ever. I belong here. We belong here. I’m not making the same mistake twice—you can go home without me if you want, but I’m not leaving.”

Aunt Em’s eyes welled with tears and even Uncle Henry was speechless.

Ozma took me by the hand. “It’s been a long day for all of you,” she said. “We’ll talk about this again tomorrow. I’m sure we can work something out when our heads are cooler.”

Uncle Henry and Aunt Em stared as Ozma led me out of the parlor. Toto hesitated for a second like he was unsure whose side he was supposed to be on, but by the time Ozma and I were climbing the grand staircase toward her private chambers, he was nipping at my heels.

The princess looked at me in concern. “Dorothy,” she said. “What was that about?”

Although I was still surprised at how strong my reaction had been, it didn’t change what I had said. “I’m not going back there,” I said, summoning every bit of Kansas grit I had. “They can’t make me.”


“But I thought you loved Kansas,” she said, furrowing her brow in confusion. “You know, your story is famous here in Oz. We tell it all the time. And in the story we tell, the important part is that you wanted to go home. You could have stayed here, but you wanted to go back to Kansas. You would have done anything to get back there. Is that story wrong?”

My face flushed in shame. “It’s just . . . ,” I started. “No. The story isn’t wrong. I did want to go home. I missed it. But once I was there, nothing was the way I remembered it. Once you’ve seen a place like Oz, nowhere else is the same again. How could it be?”

“Your aunt and uncle will come around,” Ozma said with quiet confidence as we reached the top of the steps and turned down a long, dim hall that was carpeted in green velvet. She clasped my hand tightly in hers. “I’m sure of it. But for now, I think I have just the thing to cheer you up.”



The room was full of lights. Chandeliers sparkled from the ceiling, and little luminescent orbs drifted around the room. The space was stuffed with plush velvet pillows and chairs and brocade lounges, and, against the far wall, several floor-to-ceiling mirrors set in elaborate gilt frames. The air was fragrant with Ozma’s perfume—bergamot and sandalwood and something else I couldn’t place.

“Is this your bedroom?” I asked in awe, looking around the room in search of a bed. Did she sleep on a divan? Or maybe fairies didn’t need to sleep at all.

Ozma giggled. “No, silly,” she said. “It’s my closet.”

My closet back home could barely fit a coat hanger, much less all this furniture.