The Tin Man pulled the box that contained the ancient hybrid weapon deep into a cave, miles from the crash site. He set the box in a corner of the cave and settled down in front of it, illuminating it in the darkness with his amber eye.
A loud clunk echoed from deep inside the Tin Man, followed by a rush of steam that spewed from the crevice made when his back split open down the middle.
The steam quickly dissipated and human hands reached up to grab a pull bar situated just below the back of Tin Man’s neck.
The arms flexed and the bar snapped down with a click. The occupant’s helmet rose up, allowing a lock of soft curls to unfurl out the back of the Tin Man.
Dorothy stretched, flexing her upper back, first one way, and then the other. Her back responded with a series of pops.
Dorothy used her arms to pull herself out through the back of the Tin Man suit and dropped to the ground.
Her legs wobbled and she leaned heavily on the side of the Tin Man for support. Against the warnings of her father, she had stayed in the suit too long and her mind had adjusted to how she moved with the suit. It was like having to adjust to walking on dry land after having lived on a boat for a year.
She reached back up into the operator’s compartment and withdrew the key Jasper had given her.
She stumbled around the front of the Tin Man and knelt in front of the box, casting a shadow over it when she came between it and the single point of dim amber light.
She spun the concentric circles embedded in the puzzle key until the letters spelled her last name in ancient Greek.
Needles protruded out from the handle with a snap and she gripped the key, grimacing slightly as they punctured the flesh of her hand.
She twisted the key in the lock and heard it engage, triggered by the blood running through her veins.
The lock sprung open and the lid popped up slightly with a faint hiss.
She rested her hand on the lid and felt heat emanating from the opening. She lifted the lid and peered into the dark box. For some reason, she had expected it to be glowing, much like the emerald heart her father had given her a lifetime ago.
Inside the box, was only darkness. She shifted slightly to allow the light coming from the Tin Man to reveal the contents of the box.
In the faint light, she could just make out the tip of something inside the box. She reached in and pulled out a tiny pyramid that rested lightly in the palm of her hand.
It was much smaller and lighter than she had expected, considering how big and heavy the box was that held it. She really hadn’t known what to expect, but for some reason she thought it would be bigger. At least it should have been heavier.
She positioned it closer to the light and inspected it. It was a perfect little pyramid, complete with its own tiny gold capstone. All four sides leading down from the capstone were polished to a smooth finish except for a single groove closer to the bottom that ran along all four sides. Flipping it over to the bottom revealed the only stylized etching anywhere on the pyramid.
She angled it slightly to let the shadows fill the etched design. It revealed the picture of an eye with lines shooting out of it in all directions.
She traced the etched eye delicately with a finger. The center of the eye was made from a different material and looked like it could open with a spiraling motion like the iris of a picture camera. She dug at the center of the eye with her thumbs, but it refused to open. There must be a switch or lever somewhere on the pyramid.
With the exception of the etching on the bottom, the rest of the pyramid was as smooth as polished marble. The only thing different was the gold capstone on the top.
She gripped the capstone with the tips of her fingers and slowly twisted it clockwise. It refused to move. She twisted harder, but the capstone didn’t budge. Maybe that wasn’t the switch to open the eye. Or, maybe she was turning it the wrong way.
She gripped it again and twisted counterclockwise. It resisted slightly before starting to turn.
Intense pain shot through her other hand, the one spread across the base of the pyramid. She roared out in pain and dropped the pyramid, the capstone springing back to its original position. She had stupidly held her hand across the eye as she opened it.
She inspected her injured hand in the light. Her glove had deteriorated at the center of her palm. Despite being a new leather glove, it looked to be a hundred years old and was peeling apart.
She bit the tips of the fingers on her glove, and tugged it off her hand. The skin in her palm had blistered as if she had touched the business end of a white-hot fireplace poker.
She had barely turned the capstone. If this was what the weapon could do in the matter of a single second, when it was only partially opened, what could it do when it was fully opened?
She picked up the weapon again and turned it around in her hand. She had seen something that matched the same size and dimensions as the bottom of the pyramid before.
She turned around and stared at the small square panel set into the front of the Tin Man suit.
Now she knew where she had seen the exact same picture of the pyramid’s eye before.
Inside the suit was a button with that same picture. She had pushed it before, but nothing happened.
She held the base of the pyramid up to it. It was exactly the same size.
With her gloved fist, she pounded on the faceplate. It popped off, leaving an inverse pyramid depression in the front of the suit.
She rotated the pyramid until the eye was oriented correctly.
She pushed the pyramid into the front of the suit and it nestled in with a click.
It was a perfect fit.
If she pushed the button inside the suit now, something just might happen.
Something bad to whoever, or whatever, she pointed it at.
She should rest and spend the night in the cave.
But life was all about taking calculated risks.
And she had waited long enough.
It was time to get her father, and finally get out of OZ.