“Go get the Wicked,” Nox hissed, tugging me down so that Glinda couldn’t see us over the railing of the balcony. “Now.” He didn’t have to tell me twice. I pelted down the stairs until I crashed directly into—
“Melindra!” I gasped. She looked the same as she had when I’d last seen her, tall, fierce, and ready for battle. The blond hair on the human half of her head was shorn close to the skull, and the tin half of her body was dented and battered. Behind her stood Annabel, the red-haired unicorn girl with the purple scar on her forehead who’d trained with me, too. There were more people in the room I didn’t recognize, all of them with the same tough, wary warrior’s stance. Glamora was rubbing Gert’s back, and Gert looked exhausted. She must have used her power to summon the Wicked one at a time.
“Amy, what is it?” Gert asked when I crashed into the room.
“It’s happening!” I gasped. “Upstairs, now!” I turned around and ran back to Nox, not waiting to see if they were following me.
Glinda had come prepared for battle: instead of her usual ruffled dresses, she was dressed in a tight pink catsuit that looked like leather studded with little scales. Her golden hair was drawn back in a severe bun, and she carried a huge pink staff in one slender hand.
“Oh dear,” Gert said as she gazed down at Glinda and her legions. They wore matching silver armor, polished to a blinding glow that made me think uncomfortably of the Tin Woodman, and their silver-tipped spears glittered like diamonds.
“When did she get an army?” I asked.
“She’s always had an army,” Mombi said. “She just doesn’t use it very often.”
“What do you mean, very often?”
“General Jinjur invaded the Emerald City and deposed the Scarecrow before Dorothy returned to Oz,” Melindra said. “Didn’t they teach you this?”
“I skipped the history lesson on the way to the battle.”
Melindra rolled her eyes. Whatever problem she had with me, she hadn’t gotten over it. Great.
“Glinda summoned her army then and drove Jinjur out of the palace,” Mombi filled in. “Together, Glinda and the Scarecrow put Ozma on the throne.”
“Wait, I thought Ozma was the one who banished Glinda,” I said, confused.
Gert nodded. “She was. Glinda thought she’d be able to control Ozma—to rule Oz through her. But Ozma has—had—a will of her own. Glinda tried to oust her. Ozma banished her. It wasn’t until Dorothy returned to Oz that Glinda was freed.”
“Dorothy’s not with her,” Gert said, looking down at the battlefield, where Glinda’s troops were moving into formation.
“If she’s moving against us without Dorothy, that’s a big deal,” Melindra said. “She’s never openly gone against Dorothy’s wishes before. She couldn’t be more clear about trying to take power for herself now if she posted it on a banner.”
“If she is working with the Nome King somehow, he could have forced her hand,” Mombi said. “Either way, I don’t like it. Facing a united Dorothy and Glinda is bad enough—but with both of them acting on their own . . .”
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking those pretty little girls won’t tear you to pieces,” Melindra said. “Trains ’em herself, Glinda does, and you can imagine the kinds of exercises she thinks up.” We all shuddered collectively. “They’ll gut you soon as look at you. Some of the best fighters in Oz.”
“They used to be some of the only fighters in Oz,” Gert said.
“Well, those days are long gone,” Mombi said shortly, “and they’ll shoot us off the balcony if we stand here like fools for much longer. Nothing to do but go inside and prepare for battle. Luckily the walls are three feet thick. The palace will be easy enough to defend, as long as we stay inside.”
“We haven’t prepared for this,” Melindra said, and the tough girl sounded almost plaintive.
“You’ve trained for battle,” Nox said curtly. “That means you’ve trained for this.” Melindra flashed him a hurt look and I tried not to gloat.
Glinda’s army had finished moving into tight formations and the Sorceress hovered above them at the center of it all. Flanking her, Pete and Ozma sagged in their chains. The enchanted princess was staring around her with that all-too-familiar vacant air. Pete looked miserable and sullen. You deserve it, I thought in disgust, remembering the way he’d betrayed me and Nox to Glinda in Polychrome’s palace. Pete had escaped with Glinda—if escape was the right word for what she’d done to him.
I didn’t care if he was suffering now. I remembered Polychrome’s crumpled body, Rainbow Falls burning. Polychrome’s unicorn-cat Heathcliff lying broken and bloody. Pete could go to hell for all I cared. But Ozma was different.
Ozma was an innocent in all of this. But it was more than that, too. She was also the rightful ruler of Oz. There was every chance that she was the only one with the power to change anything. If only we could unlock it.
“We have to rescue her,” Nox said, echoing my thoughts.
“There’s got to be a way,” I agreed, and was gratified to see the flash of approval in his eyes. Maybe I was faking it until I made it, but Nox was right. Acting confident did give me a renewed sense of strength. How could what we faced possibly be worse than what we’d already been through?
Below us, a trumpet sounded, and Glinda rose even higher in the air to hover over her army.
“Good afternoon, dear Wicked,” she said, and even though she was speaking quietly and still hundreds of feet away, she sounded as if she was close enough to reach out and touch.
She and all her soldiers had smeared their faces with Perma-Smile, and their white teeth glinted out of terrifying grins as they looked up at us. “Welcome back to Oz. We’re so glad you’ve returned to see the new era that’s coming.”
“Meet the new witch, same as the old bitch,” Mombi muttered.
“Where is Dorothy, sister dear?” Glamora cooed.
“Is it you, darling?” Glinda squealed. “I haven’t seen you in ages! Not since I gave you that tremendously satisfying facelift.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Glamora replied icily.
The way they were talking to each other was eerie—it was as if they were having an intimate—if tense—conversation over tea and pastries.
Mombi didn’t have any patience for their banter. “What do you want, Glinda?” she bellowed.
“I thought we could be friends,” Glinda purred. “Your little Quadrant party hasn’t gone unnoticed, you know. I was so hoping you might invite me.” Her voice was pouty, but the PermaSmile wouldn’t let her frown.
“We must have forgotten,” Mombi growled.
“No, I don’t think you did,” Glinda hissed. “Did you think you could join forces without me, my witchly sisters?”
“Funny, going behind our backs didn’t seem to bother you when you wiped out the memories of Oz’s queen and brought a tyrant to power,” Gert snapped.
Next to me, Nox tugged my shoulder. “We need to get back downstairs. If there’s an opportunity to rescue Ozma while they’re going back and forth, we have to take it.” I nodded, and Nox signaled to Melindra, Annabel, and a couple of other warriors. We began to creep stealthily toward the staircase. Mombi shook her head at us.
“Enough with this nonsense,” she said abruptly. “We join forces as a Quadrant and go down there to take her out. We hadn’t planned on it happening this soon, but we knew it was inevitable. East, West, North, South. We work as four. Nox, we need you.”
“No,” Glamora said. We all looked at her in surprise. Her blue eyes, eerie twins of Glinda’s, burned with a fierce, lightning-hot energy. “She’s my sister, and this is my fight.”
“My dear,” Gert said, “you can’t possibly mean to go up against her alone. She has an entire army at her disposal—and she nearly killed you the last time you fought.” Reflexively, Glamora touched her face where, long ago, she’d lifted the veil of glamour to show me the gruesome scar Glinda had carved into her cheek.
I’d fought next to Glamora. But I’d never seen her look the way she looked now. Powerful and fierce, yeah, but something else, too.
Elated. Hungry. Out for blood. I remembered back in the cave where I’d first met the Wicked, when Glamora had taught me the art of glamour. I’d wondered then if she was scarier than Glinda. Watching her now, I didn’t have any doubts at all.
“I have been waiting for this moment since the first time I faced her all those years ago,” Glamora said calmly. “I’ve been waiting to end her life, the way she would have ended mine if she’d had the chance. This is my chance to rid Oz of her evil, and this is my battle alone.” Calmly, she ran her hand along her face, wiping away all of the glamours she wore like makeup and revealing the gaping, half-moon scar that ran from her ear, down her cheekbone, and across her chin. It still looked as fresh as if she’d gotten it this morning.
I could tell Gert and Mombi wanted to protest, but they knew as well as I did that Glamora wouldn’t have hesitated to strike all of us down on the way to destroy her sister. The gleam in her eyes was almost unhinged, and the air around her shimmered like she was a pot of water about to boil.
“I do not see the wisdom of this course of action,” Mombi muttered, but Glamora ignored her.
“Wait here for me,” she said, and rose up into the air.
“She’s right,” Gert said. “This is her battle. Let her fight it, Mombi.”
“This is a terrible idea,” Mombi growled, shaking off Gert’s restraining hand. But like the rest of us, she hurried anxiously to the edge of the balcony, peering over it.
Even from the balcony I could see the tension in the line of Glinda’s shoulders. Despite her army, despite all her magic, it was clear that some part of her was afraid. Glamora had waited so long for this moment, carrying this hatred and desire for vengeance for years. I’d be afraid even if I had an army at my back, too.
No, I was afraid.
“There’s no use trying to stop her,” Gert said in a low voice. “But we need to come up with a backup plan—now. Dorothy will likely be on her way any minute. If Glinda found us here, she can’t be far behind.”
While Gert spoke, Glamora was floating regally toward her sister, and as she moved through the air her gown fell away, leaving her naked. It barely registered, because then she was shedding her skin, too, like a snake sheds its scales. Underneath it, her body was purple and glittering in the sun.
Instead of giving herself armor, Glamora had become the armor. Her hair, her skin, her limbs. All of her was now bright and faceted. She was now a living jewel. Everyone was speechless at the sight of it.
The only one who didn’t look shocked at the transformation was Glinda, who simply nodded in acknowledgment.
The two witches now circled each other in the air, Glamora a bright shadow of her sister’s form. Glinda’s usually sweet face was set in a mask of naked hatred made even more terrifying by the sickly sweet PermaSmile.
The air turned dark and thick, forming itself into a cloud that slowly took the shape of a huge serpent with its head rearing back to strike. Glinda flicked an arm upward and a spear of pink light struck Glamora’s serpent in the chest, dissolving it momentarily. Glamora brought her arm down, and the serpent re-formed, undulating around her in black coils. She snapped her wrist, and a bolt of pure power shot toward Glinda, who ducked at the last minute. Instinctively, I reached for my knife—and it materialized in my hand.
“Amy, what are you doing?” Nox hissed.
“If Glinda is distracted, we can rescue Ozma—and Pete, too,” I said, heading for the door.
“You can’t use magic!” Mombi barked.
“The knife doesn’t count,” I said. “It was a present.” Nox opened his mouth to protest and then shut it again, shaking his head.
Mombi sighed. “I’ll stay here with Gert to see if there’s a way we can help Glamora. Nox, you, Melindra, and Amy look for a way to rescue the princess and her traitorous other half. Annabel, we’ll need fighters here, too.” The girls nodded.
But I wasn’t the only one who’d had the brilliant idea of taking action while the sisters battled it out. Suddenly, the castle shuddered around us. We hurried back to the edge of the balcony and looked down. Glinda’s girl army had moved a battering ram up to the castle doors—but this wasn’t an ordinary battering ram. It was huge, glittery, pink, and shaped like—
“Is that a Munchkin?” Nox gasped in horror. Glinda’s twisted magic had transformed an ordinary Ozian into a giant, fossilized pink weapon. The Munchkin’s face was twisted in horror, his eyes squeezed shut as though he was still in terrible pain. Pink flames burned in his open mouth, dripping onto the ground where they sizzled and smoked like molten pink lava. Even as we watched, Glinda’s soldiers drew back and lunged forward, slamming into the door with terrific force.
“We can’t help him now, and that door won’t hold forever,” Gert said grimly. “We’d better prepare ourselves.”