Late-morning light filtered through the silken tent walls. I stretched and yelped aloud as every battered muscle in my body twinged in protest. My feet were sore and swollen. Despite how deeply I’d slept, I was still exhausted. I could feel the shoes tugging at me, like a house cat butting its head against my palm demanding to be petted.
Nox stuck his head through the curtain that closed off my room. “Hey,” he said softly. “The Quadrant wants to see you.” He crossed the room and sat next to me on the bed. He’d cleaned himself up that morning and I caught a whiff of the rich, sandalwood scent of his skin. Suddenly, I was acutely conscious of my messy hair and unbrushed teeth. But Nox was looking at me like—well, like I was beautiful. I blushed furiously.
“Hi,” I said stupidly.
“Hi.” He smiled.
“Are you ready? I’ll take you to them.” I stared up at him, as dopey as a new puppy. Not letting Gert know how badly I wanted to jump Nox’s bones was definitely going to be a serious challenge.
“I—can you—I don’t want to risk using the shoes—” Flushing, I pointed to my greasy hair and unwashed face. A look of comprehension dawned on Nox’s face. He touched my cheek, and my hair untangled itself into a sleek curtain. The wrinkles fell away from the clothes I’d slept in, the bloodstains vanished, and the tears mended themselves. A minty-fresh taste filled my mouth.
“Thanks,” I said. I followed Nox to where the rest of the Quadrant was waiting in a clearing near Ozma’s tent palace.
“We have to talk about the shoes,” Gert said without preamble. “As long as they’re on your feet, you’re in danger.”
“We’re all in danger,” Glamora added.
“Their magic belongs with Oz,” Mombi added.
Gert nodded, her warm face creased with worry. “You haven’t had them that long. The shoes are too powerful for you to remove them yourself, but we should be able to help you take them off.”
I didn’t like the sound of that “should.” And there was something about their faces that sent a sliver of unease through me. I trusted them—more or less—but that didn’t mean they weren’t working from their own agenda. I’d always known there were limits to how much they told me. Gert, I knew, could hear my doubts, and so I tried to think about something else. Flowers. Kittens. Mochas.
“Lurline told me the shoes would serve me well if I trusted in their power,” I said. “Without them, I don’t think I can use magic at all.”
“Amy, we can’t trust anything that came to you from the Nome King,” Glamora said. “The risk is too huge.”
“Maybe Amy’s right,” Nox said. I knew he’d had no idea what the witches wanted, or he’d have warned me back in the tent.
“You’re not disagreeing with a Quadrant decision, are you?” Glamora snapped.
For a second, none of us spoke. The air was full of tension. I wanted to fight them, but even with the boots I doubted I’d be strong enough. Maybe I could steal the boots back again. Maybe I could find some other way to get home. I didn’t like it, but I couldn’t stop them if they wanted to overpower me—and I had no doubt they’d do it.
“Will it hurt?” I asked. “When you take them off, I mean.”
“It might,” Mombi said. Glamora shot her a look. “What?” the old witch grumbled. “She should know what she’s getting into.” Unexpectedly, she looked at me with sympathy. “We know you’ve been through a lot, Amy. I’m sorry to ask one more thing of you. We wouldn’t do it if we didn’t think the shoes could end up hurting you.”
“Ready for us to try?” Gert asked. I nodded. Nox gave me an anxious look, but he joined hands with the rest of the Quadrant.
The witches closed their eyes and began to chant softly. At first, nothing changed. And then my feet started to feel warm. The boots’ glow intensified into a radiant white light that hurt my eyes. The heat got more and more excruciating, and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to cry. I could feel myself floating into the air and hovering a few inches above the ground.
The chanting grew louder and then stopped. The witches’ magic surrounded me, probing at my feet and legs like dozens of strong arms poking and prodding me. When Mombi had said this might hurt, she wasn’t kidding. I’d had to go to the dentist when I was a kid to get three cavities filled at once, and I had the same powerless feeling. Knowing that what was happening was supposed to be good for me didn’t make it feel any better. Anger flooded through me. I couldn’t help it. I was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of hurting, tired of all this pain and death and doing the right thing for the wrong people. I wanted to be left alone. I wanted to go the hell back to bed. I could feel the tidal wave of fury rising up in me, the same anger that had turned me into a literal monster once before. My feet were on fire.
“I want it to stop!” I yelled, and a wave of power burst out of me like water crashing through a dam. Mombi, Gert, Glamora, and Nox were thrown backward across the clearing. My fingernails lengthened into claws, my arms rippled with muscle. “Leave me ALONE!” I roared through a mouthful of jagged teeth. And then I felt a gentle, cooling surge of magic from the boots. Reminding me of who I was. Not a monster. Not under Oz’s control. Just Amy Gumm, a girl trying to save her family. The monster’s talons retracted back into my fingers. I pushed myself upright from where I’d crouched on all fours as the witches picked themselves up and brushed themselves off. Nox looked stunned. Glamora looked thoughtful.
“Well, then,” she said. “I guess we’ll have to find a different way to free you from the shoes.”
Mombi was looking at me with an unmistakable expression of worry. I knew they thought I was dangerous. I didn’t blame them. But they wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. Not yet anyway. I wished I could talk to Nox, but there was no safe way to do it.
“Fine,” I said. Let them think I’d given in. Let them think I was willing to give up the shoes as soon as they found a way to get them off my feet. I’d figure something out. I always did. “I’m going back to bed.” I didn’t look back at the witches when I left.
The next few days were a bustle of activity. When Ozma had insisted the coronation be held on the site of the Emerald Palace, I’d been pretty dubious. Why not start over somewhere that wasn’t a former battleground? The scarred wasteland looked worse than post-tornado Dusty Acres, and the city itself was in even more terrible shape. But the land had significance for her. And for Oz. And Ozma, with the help of the Wicked, went immediately into full cleanup mode. First, she deputized a handful of Lulu’s monkeys as messengers and sent them out to all the corners of Oz with the news that Dorothy had been defeated and the coronation was coming. Joyful citizens of Oz came pouring into the city, eager to help rebuild. At all hours of the day and night the streets were full of Munchkins, Winkies, Pixies, and talking animals industriously carting wheelbarrows of debris back and forth, carefully repaving the streets with salvaged gemstones, and repairing the buildings that were still standing. Ozma and the Wicked—Nox included—devoted their energy to constructing an elaborate tent city where the palace had stood and carefully coaxing the ruined gardens back to life. The monkeys busied themselves in the remaining trees, hanging streamers and lights and an elaborate network of bridges and platforms, with Lulu barking orders from the ground like a drill sergeant.
I helped where I could, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. It had all happened so suddenly that Dorothy’s defeat hadn’t really sunk in, but everyone else in Oz seemed to think it was totally normal that a tyrant had been defeated, the old queen had been reinstated, and the Emerald Palace had been completely destroyed.
The morning of the coronation was as sunny and clear as every other day had been since Dorothy’s defeat. Ozma herself was directing the final touches: a small army of Munchkins was busy cooking an enormous feast. Pixies fluttered about from tree to tree, hanging streamers and long strands of glass balls that must have been some kind of decoration. Mombi, Gert, Glamora, and Nox were busy putting the last details on the newly planted, magic-enhanced gardens. They were still a far cry from the splendor that had once surrounded the Emerald Palace, but they were a lot better than the wasteland they replaced.
Dorothy’s surviving ex-soldiers had shown up for the party, too. At first I was startled to see the mangled, mechanized figures as they wheeled and creaked around, and the other Ozians gave them a wide berth, too. But they made themselves indispensable, helping with heavy lifting and the most unglamorous tasks, like doing dishes and cleaning up. They, at least, had been through even worse than me. I remembered the Scarecrow’s laboratory, and shuddered.
Finally, it was time to get ready. Ozma had set up a bathing tent that was as luxurious as a fancy spa. Big, claw-foot bathtubs were curtained off with walls of pale, billowing silk. As soon as I entered one of the rooms, invisible hands turned on the taps, and the tub filled with steaming, scented water as a pile of thick towels materialized next to me. I’d no sooner taken off my clothes and climbed into the tub than the same invisible presence began to briskly lather my scalp with a floral shampoo. “No thanks,” I told it. “I think I’d rather do it myself.” I thought I heard a sulky little sigh, but the hands withdrew, and I knew I was alone.
I stayed in the bathtub for a long time, magic boots and all (turns out they were waterproof), dreading the night ahead. I’d never been much for parties, and big banquets still reminded me of those awful days when I’d pretended to be one of Dorothy’s maids. I remembered what she’d done to Jellia, and a chill ran through me despite the hot bathwater. I was going to have to get a grip if I wanted to make it through the night, but I couldn’t let go of all the pain and suffering I’d seen. Maybe people in Oz were more used to it and that was why they could get over it so quickly, but before I’d come here Madison Pendleton had been about the worst thing I’d experienced. Well, that and my mom’s addiction. I splashed my face angrily with hot water and stood up, sloshing bathwater over the sides of the tub. A towel floated into the air and wrapped itself around me. “Oh, fine,” I sighed, stepping out of the tub. If it was possible for an invisible handmaid to towel me off smugly, mine did.
While I’d dozed in the tub, a rich, embroidered dress had been laid out on a chair next to the rack of towels. I looked at it in dismay. I’d feel like an idiot in a ball gown, even at Ozma’s coronation. I hadn’t worn a dress in months. “Maybe something else, please?” I said politely to the air. There was a frosty silence, and then the elaborately beaded and sewn dress disappeared and was replaced with a maid’s uniform. I laughed. “No, come on,” I said aloud. The maid’s uniform vanished, and finally a plain but pretty dress appeared. I picked it up. It was made of a soft, gray material that felt like clouds, and it was simply cut and unembellished. “That’s perfect,” I said. “Thank you.” I heard a little sniff of disapproval, and hid a smile.
Outside, twilight had fallen. I gasped when I saw the open space at the heart of the tent city where Ozma would be crowned. The glass globes the Pixies had hung were filled with tiny, glowing insects that cast a beautiful amber light over the new gardens. Tendrilly vines, heavy with sweet-smelling white flowers, reached up into the warm air and climbed around a canopy the monkeys had erected, creating a high, broad pavilion of blossoms. The citizens of Oz were already beginning to assemble in respectful rows, looking solemn and happy. Lulu’s ball gown was so heavy with rhinestones I saw her as a dazzling blur from a hundred yards away. The rest of the monkeys all wore neatly cut suits—surprisingly dignified, I thought. Even Dorothy’s former soldiers had done their best to dress up. Their metal parts were polished to a blinding glow that reflected the lamplight, and their furry bodies were brushed to a shine.
“You look beautiful, Amy.” Nox was walking toward me. He looked amazing; he’d let Ozma’s invisible handmaidens deck him out in a well-cut and closely fitted suit that looked equal parts James Bond and millionaire, like he was headed to a super-fancy dinner but wasn’t too overdressed to take out a couple of villains if he had to—which, actually, was true. Instead of looking silly, the purple cloak on top made him look like a prince. His longish dark hair was slicked back, which only emphasized his high cheekbones. He’d even found dress shoes.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, looking at my own diamond-studded boots. They were out of place in Oz, but they felt exactly right to me. Besides, with my cool gray granny dress the whole effect was kind of nineties. All I needed was a velvet choker.
And then I realized it: now was our chance. Finally, we were alone. But as soon as I opened my mouth, I saw Glamora swooping down on us, grinning like she’d PermaSmiled herself. “Nox! Amy! Are you ready?” she cooed.
From behind her came a voice I hadn’t heard in what felt like years. “You clean up nice, Amy.” Ollie! And his sister, Maude, was at his side. I swooped in and gave them both hugs. I hadn’t seen them since Mombi had made me leave them behind in the Queendom of the Wingless Ones.
But there was no time now for catching up. The sound of trumpets cut through the air, and Nox gave me a helpless look. I followed him and Glamora across the newly planted lawn.
Ozma stood at the far end of the canopy of flowers, dressed in a simple white silk shift that spilled in shimmering waves to her feet. Her long black hair was bound up with more of the huge, fragrant white blossoms. Her glorious gold-veined wings fluttered behind her. She looked tall, and beautiful, and radiant, and wise. She looked every inch a queen. Tiny Pixies buzzed through the air, carrying more of the luminous glass globes. A line of monkeys holding sunfruit lamps was arranged on either side of a long, richly decorated carpet that unrolled to Ozma’s feet. At its opposite end, Lulu stood in her amazingly jewel-encrusted dress, holding a delicate golden crown with the word OZ spelled out in a curlicued font. I found a place next to Nox at the back of the audience. The trumpets sounded their final notes, and the crowd fell into an expectant hush.
“My dear, brave citizens of Oz,” Ozma began, her clear voice carrying without effort. “Long have you waited for this moment, and much have you suffered.” It was still a shock to hear her speak like this—to see infinite wisdom flickering in her deep green eyes. “I am so happy to return to you, and to promise you that Oz is ours again—a free kingdom, with liberty and justice for all its subjects.”
A spontaneous cheer rose up from the happy crowd at her words, and the full impact of what I was witnessing hit me. For now, anyway, Oz was free. Dorothy was gone. We’d done it. All that fighting, all that loss and sacrifice—I’d never actually thought we would win. Without thinking, I reached for Nox’s hand. He looked at me, surprised, and then squeezed mine back. I put my head on his shoulder. He was just the right height for us to fit perfectly together. After a minute, he put his arm around me, and I relaxed into the warmth of his body, closing my eyes as Ozma’s words washed over us.
“As many of you know,” she continued, “we owe much of this victory to a very special warrior who has risked much to help us, though when she began this fight she was not even one of us. She believed in the freedom of Oz, even though it was not her world. She has shown extraordinary courage in the face of great danger, and she was the one who set me free from the prison of my own mind.” Nox elbowed me in the ribs and my eyes flew open. Everyone in the tent was looking at me.
“Amy Gumm,” Ozma said in that beautiful, rich voice. “We owe you our lives and our freedom. We will never be able to repay our debt to you, but you will always have a home among us.” And then, to my total astonishment, she moved through the crowd until she was standing right before me, and went down on her knee. After a second, everyone else knelt, too. To me. Like I was a queen. To my absolute horror, Nox knelt, too. I had no idea what to do or say. I wasn’t a ruler. I was just a teenager from a trailer park in Kansas.
“I can’t—” I stammered frantically. “I mean I didn’t—I didn’t do anything special. Anyone in my place would have done what I did.”
Ozma remained kneeling for what felt like a million years but was probably just a few seconds, and then she stood with that same effortless grace and held out her hands to me. “Stand beside me, dear Amy,” she said. “It would be an honor to be crowned at your side. I owe this—all of this—to you.” The crowd around me, also rising to its feet, parted wordlessly. I stood frozen to the ground in terror until Nox gave me a gentle shove.
“Dorothy was way scarier than this,” he whispered. “You’re fine.”
“Easy for you to say,” I muttered under my breath, but I stepped forward. I was glad I’d gone with the dress after all, now that what seemed like every eye in Oz was on me. My heart was pounding so hard I almost laughed at myself. Nox was right; I’d faced down Dorothy, but couldn’t handle an appreciative audience?
Ozma beamed at me as I joined her at her side. She took my hand in one of hers, and gestured to Lulu with the other. The little monkey should have looked ridiculous in her bedazzled dress, which was over the top even for her. But instead she looked perfect. Sort of like a really dignified chandelier, but in a good way. She was weeping openly as she slowly carried the crown toward us.
When she reached us, Ozma curtsied deeply, dipping her head low enough for Lulu to set the crown on her dark hair. Everyone around us breathed out a sigh of combined relief and awe.
“At last, our queen is returned to us,” Lulu proclaimed, holding Ozma’s hand aloft as they turned to face the crowd. There was a brief second of complete stillness, and then the pavilion erupted. Everyone was hugging and shrieking and clapping and cheering. Munchkins jumped up and down, waving their arms. Winkies high-fived each other. Even Gert and Mombi were hugging and dancing around like little kids. Nox ran up to me, picked me up off my feet, and twirled me around while I giggled with delight. Lulu had her arms wrapped around Ozma’s midsection and was sobbing noisily. Only Ozma remained calm and collected, smiling down at Lulu and at all the other citizens of Oz who tried to touch her dress or embrace her.
Finally, the mayhem died down enough for Ozma to call out, “And now we feast!” Another enormous cheer erupted from the crowd, and everyone surged toward the banquet.