dorothy must die 00.4 - heart of tin (4 page)

Dorothy shrugged. “Oh, Ozma,” she said sadly. “She did her best, of course, poor thing. But we all know she wasn’t cut out for the job of government. Ruling a country takes more than just magic, sillies! It takes what each of you has individually—brains, courage, heart—and I have plenty of all three of those things.” She took a deep breath and looked around the room.

“I was so happy to be back,” she explained, “that I didn’t even stop to think I might have been brought here for a reason. I’m not just here for a vacation, as wonderful as it is to see all of you again”—here her eyes lingered unmistakably on me—“but I realized yesterday, thanks to Glinda, that I’m actually here for a purpose. Oz has fallen into disrepair. The countryside is in disorder. Oz needs me. It’s my duty to take power until Oz is restored.”

A wave of shock rippled through the room, and even I blinked, startled, as we finally realized the implication of her words. Dorothy didn’t just mean she was
a
princess, she meant she was
the
princess. She planned to become the ruler of Oz. But how? Ozma was an odd little creature, from what I’d heard, though I’d never seen that much of her. But the fairies had always been the rightful rulers of Oz, and I couldn’t imagine Ozma just handing over the throne to the first person who claimed she was more qualified to run the show.

“And here’s where you come in,” Dorothy continued, ignoring our surprise. “I need you three more than ever before. I need counselors I can trust at my side as I bring Oz back to the glorious place it once was. I can’t rule Oz without your help.”

“But Oz is already glorious,” the Scarecrow said slowly. “Where is Ozma, exactly, Dorothy?”

At this, Glinda drifted forward and rested one lovely, slim hand on Dorothy’s shoulder. She was smiling gently, but I noticed that her knuckles were white where they gripped Dorothy. “My dearest Dorothy,” she said gently. “You must understand, all
of this is very confusing to your old friends. It’s happened so quickly for them.” She smiled sweetly at the Scarecrow, and then at the Lion and me. “Dorothy, kind soul that she is, is protecting Ozma’s reputation by not telling you the whole truth. You see, Ozma has been stealing Oz’s magic for years. She exiled me, the only person who was powerful enough to discover her secret, but when Dorothy arrived she knew there was a chance Dorothy would find out. She played false friend to Dorothy just to keep an eye on her. But she’d planned all along to banish Dorothy back to the Other Place the first chance she got. And she almost succeeded. This morning, Ozma took Dorothy, her aunt Em, and her uncle Henry away from the palace, planning to kill all three of them with her magic. Thankfully, I was able to escape my banishment just in time and protect Dorothy, but Ozma’s magic still killed her aunt and uncle.” She shook Dorothy slightly and Dorothy’s eyes opened wide and filled with tears.

My heart flooded with sympathy. My poor Dorothy! How was she even standing, after such a shock? She must be made of steel, I thought admiringly. Unwilling to burden her friends with her terrible sorrow, she’d put on a brave face for all of us. She was simply incredible.

“In the battle,” Glinda continued, “Ozma’s magic backfired, and wiped her memory. She knows nothing of what she tried to do.”

“So that’s why you were able to forgive Ozma,” I said, my heart filling with awe for my beloved’s magnificent compassion. “Because she doesn’t even remember what she tried to do to you.
You’re too kind to hold it against her, now that you know she won’t try again.”

“What?” Dorothy asked. “Oh yes. Yes, that’s it exactly. That’s why I was able to forgive her.” She wiggled her feet, looking down at her glowing shoes. “But thanks to these sho—”

“Thanks to Oz,” Glinda interrupted quickly. “We don’t know what exactly it is that’s allowing you to access Oz’s magic, so it’s best not to speculate. But we do know you can give the magic back that Ozma stole, and that’s all that matters.”

“It’s possible Oz simply wants to protect me,” Dorothy said. “If Ozma can become an enemy, who knows who else might want to hurt me?” She looked at me then, her eyes beseeching. “I need all the protection I can get,” she said, and there was no mistaking her words were meant for me. I sat up straighter. “Anyway, I’ve discovered that I can tap into the magic of Oz. I can use its power for good, my friends. I can become the ruler that Oz deserves—and I intend to do exactly that.”

“Until we restore the magic Ozma stole,” Glinda added. “And then an official successor to the traitor fairy will be appointed.”

Dorothy blinked. “Right,” she said after a moment.

We were all silent for a moment when Dorothy and Glinda finished talking. The Lion looked confused, and the Scarecrow looked—well, if I didn’t know him better, I’d have said he looked suspicious. I didn’t have to wonder if my own face mirrored the Lion’s consternation, since it was a mask of tin, but I had to admit I wasn’t quite able to follow what Dorothy and Glinda were saying. I didn’t want to question Dorothy, or to doubt her. But I
didn’t want to think too hard about her story either, because something about it seemed a little . . . off. Oz still had plenty of magic. Ozma had never seemed very evil, or very jealous either, for that matter. But I had traveled with Dorothy for months. We’d been through all kinds of things together. I
knew
her. She wasn’t just beautiful and kind, she was a good person. Plus, she’d just lost her aunt and uncle. No wonder she wasn’t completely making sense—even if, come to think of it, she didn’t look too upset. Glinda was a good witch, and she’d never do anything to jeopardize the fate of Oz. Dorothy had saved all of us. More than that, she was the woman I loved. And—at who knew what cost to herself—she was volunteering to take on the enormous responsibility of governing Oz. Had there ever been a woman more self-sacrificing or courageous?

I stood up, pushing my chair away from the table. “All I need to know is that I serve you,” I said, cursing myself as a squeak in my jaw detracted from the nobility of my words. “I will be at your side, Princess Dorothy, through anything you ask of me.” I bowed down on one knee before her, my head low to the ground.

Dorothy put one cool hand under my chin and tilted my head up so that I was looking into her deep blue eyes. “My wonderful Woodman,” she said softly. “So loyal and so brave. I knew you’d be the first to come to my side, and I won’t forget it.” As I knelt, her shoes blazed even more brightly, surrounding me in a red light that pulsed like a heartbeat. I could almost hear them whispering to me in words I couldn’t quite make out. The light filled my eyes until I could no longer see the room, and a hissing
rose up in my ears. A red mist swirled above my head, forming a huge, powerful hand that plunged toward me. Before I could cry out or move, the fingers pierced my tin chest, diving straight for my cloth heart.

Somehow, impossibly, I could feel them wrap around the soft fabric. Power flooded through me, power and a new, unfamiliar emotion: rage. Everything was changing. I could no longer feel Dorothy’s hand under my chin or hear the noises of the room around us. I was standing in front of my palace in the Winkies’ country, towering over a courtyard full of cowering Winkies. The stones around me were stained red, and my tin fingers were covered with blood. I had done something terrible, but I didn’t know what it was. Horror filled me, but at the same time so did something else. Elation. The knowledge that no one could stop me from doing anything I wanted to the Winkies weeping at my feet. The sky was the same powerful red of Dorothy’s shoes. In the distance, I could hear someone shouting something indistinct that slowly grew clearer. “Woodman! Tin Woodman!”

The castle and the Winkies vanished. I was back in the Council Chamber. Dorothy had fallen to her knees and wrapped her arms around me, crying, “Tin Woodman! Are you all right?” Relishing the feel of her, I let her embrace linger before I finally put my hands on her back and murmured, “I’m all right. Everything’s fine.” She leaned back, seizing my hands and looking at me.

“What happened?” she cried.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I think—I think I must have been
dreaming. But I wasn’t asleep. It was—terrible, Dorothy. I dreamed I did something—” I stopped. I had been about to say “awful,” but that didn’t seem quite right. In my vision I had done something
powerful
. Something, I knew suddenly, that was for her. No,
awful
wasn’t the right word at all. “I dreamed I did something terrible,” I said again, my voice clearer. “But it was worth it, because it was for you.” Wonder filled Dorothy’s face, wonder and something else. I knew it was love. It had to be.

I glanced up. Over her shoulder, Glinda regarded me coolly, her lovely face revealing no emotion. But for just one second, I could have sworn I saw a spark in the depths of her crystal-blue eyes. A spark as red and glittering as Dorothy’s shoes. Though her lips did not move, I heard her gentle voice echoing inside my head. “Someone must protect the new princess. Do you accept this honor?”

“I do,” I said out loud, looking back down at Dorothy’s radiant face. “Always and forever. I do.”

FIVE

After our council, things were much clearer. Dorothy, always generous, told us that she would allow the traitor Ozma to stay in the palace, but it was clear her betrayal meant she was no longer fit to rule Oz. The five of us agreed that the best solution would be for Dorothy to rule in Ozma’s stead until she figured out a way to undo Ozma’s damage. Glinda pointed out that as Dorothy’s closest confidants in Oz—closer even than Glinda herself, she added modestly—the Lion, the Scarecrow, and I were to be entrusted with a new level of responsibility. It was possible Dorothy had even more enemies within the palace, and it was our job to protect her. I knew what Glinda was really saying. I was Dorothy’s protector. I alone had been given this task. And I knew I would never fail.

As we talked, the Lion’s stomach rumbled audibly, and Dorothy clapped her hands and laughed. “Silly old Lion!” she said. “You never change. Go get something to eat. Scare and Tin,
why don’t you go with him for now. Glinda and I have much to discuss. And, Tin”—I turned to her eagerly—“why don’t you come back and see me after supper? Alone, I mean.”

I was so flustered I could only mumble an assent, and I cursed myself as I followed the Scarecrow out the door. If I kept making a fool of myself in front of Dorothy, she was hardly going to see me as a suitor. The Lion bounded away from us, eager to get to his next meal, but as soon as the door to the Council Chamber swung shut on Dorothy and Glinda the Scarecrow grabbed my arm.

“What on earth do you think is really going on?” he muttered. “This stuff about Ozma, and Glinda coming back, and Dorothy being put in charge—none of the story makes sense.” I was silent for a moment as we walked toward the banquet hall. I wanted to disagree with him, to shout him down. But he was only echoing what I’d thought just a few moments ago.

“I’m sure Dorothy would never do anything to hurt anyone,” I said finally. That much, I knew for certain, was true.

“Glinda coming back is certainly convenient,” he mused. “Her timing is a little too perfect, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, though the same thing had occurred to me.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter. What
does
matter is that Dorothy’s in charge, at least for now, and that means quite a bit of opportunity for us. The Lion’s a silly old thing, always has been, but you and me—” He paused significantly. “No more corncobs and Winkies, I can tell you that much,” he said when I didn’t
respond.

“I’m not interested in power,” I said truthfully. “I don’t mind being King of the Winkies, but I’m not ambitious.”

“Not in that way you aren’t,” he said with a smile, “but I think you’ve got other aspirations on your mind, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said with dignity, and he laughed.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “We’re both a lot closer than we were yesterday to getting what we want, let’s just put it that way. You chase after Dorothy, old friend. She couldn’t do better. But me, I’ve got other sunfruit to light. I’m not going to ask too many questions about what Glinda’s up to, and I don’t think you should either.”

“I would never doubt Dorothy,” I said, ignoring his real meaning.

“No, you wouldn’t,” he said. “I think that’s becoming quite clear to everyone.”

Dorothy wasn’t at dinner. I tried to hide my disappointment as the Scarecrow and I sat with the Lion while he merrily gulped down a pile of drumsticks. The mood in the banquet hall was subdued, and Ozma’s chair—a big, green throne-like thing carved with scenes from various places in Oz that shifted when you looked at them—was conspicuously empty. The Lion and the Scarecrow chatted away, but I was too distracted to join in. My conversation with the Scarecrow that afternoon had unsettled me. On the surface, he was still his usual jovial self. But there was a strange new glitter in his black button eyes that made
me uncomfortable. Was he hiding something? Was this going to be the future of Oz—all of us suspicious of each other? I thought with longing of the old, happy days, all of us innocent and merrily enjoying our quest. I missed that time so much that for a moment I would have traded a future with Dorothy to have it back—just the four of us, wandering together through Oz.

I stared at my plate, torn between excitement and despair. I was finally going to be alone with Dorothy, to find out why she wanted to see me. Could it be—could she possibly be ready to confess her feelings for me? I told myself not to get my hopes up, but there was no mistaking the signals she’d been sending me since the banquet. What other reason could she possibly have?

But what on earth was going on with my oldest, dearest friends? What intrigues were simmering beneath the surface? What kind of wickedness was lurking at the heart of Oz?

I left the banquet hall as soon as I was able to graciously excuse myself. The Scarecrow, watching me fumble in my excitement as I pushed my chair away from the table, muttered something to the Lion under his breath and they both laughed, but I didn’t care. The moment of truth was upon me. Whatever happened, I was going to tell Dorothy how I felt—and find out if my love was returned. It
had
to be, I told myself, my heart pounding as I approached Dorothy’s quarters. It simply had to be.