Dorothy Must Die Novella #8 Page 4

  “I just want to go everywhere!” Dorothy said happily. “This is so much fun! Way better than that dreary old palace. I swear, the Munchkins will complain about anything.”

  “The tourists are the same way,” Polly commiserated. “The rainbows aren’t colorful enough, the beaches are scratchy, there aren’t enough dazzleberries . . . it’s ridiculous what people will find to make a fuss about.”

  Dorothy shook her head in disgust. “So ungrateful,” she agreed. “Why, the Munchkins have it so good. But to hear them talk, it’s like even the most basic request is total tyranny. And don’t even get me started on the Winkies! It’s no wonder Ozma needed a break. I’m sure she got sick of all their whining.”

  For a moment, Polly was puzzled again. Ozma had never seemed to mind listening to her subjects’ complaints and needs. It was one of the things Polly found completely unfathomable about her cousin—how she could stand to hear people go on and on about crop failures and water rights and boundary disputes. Polly herself had no idea why anyone would care about such things, let alone care enough to listen to other people talk about them. But it just wasn’t like Ozma at all to run off and leave someone else in charge, especially a newcomer to Oz. Maybe she’d finally just lost her patience, like Dorothy said. If Polly had to run all of Oz, she would have given up long ago.

  But with Dorothy off gallivanting around, where did that leave the rest of the country?

  Polly pushed those thoughts aside. Oz would be fine. Rainbow Falls had never suffered when Polly took off before.

  Not that she’d noticed, anyway. It was true she didn’t always pay the best attention to what was going on in her own kingdom, but she was a firm believer in live and let live.

  But she couldn’t quite let it go. It was a new feeling for her.

  “Funny,” she mused. “When Munchkins come to Rainbow Falls they are always the most fun, the loudest, the most adventurous. . . .”

  “That’s because they’re on vacation, silly. Try making them brush your hair a hundred strokes a night and see how fun they are.”

  Polly shrugged, the closest she ever came to an argument unless she was with Ozma. Still, she knew what it felt like to want to have fun while others were being too serious.

  Dorothy smiled. “I just want everyone to be happy all the time. Is that so wrong?”

  Polly shrugged again, feeling better now that Dorothy had stopped talking about the Munchkins.

  “I’m thinking of making it official.”

  “Official? Making what official?” Polly asked.

  “Happiness, of course! I was thinking it might be my first decree.”

  “You want to make a—a—Happiness Decree?” Polly laughed, and Dorothy pouted.

  “Why is that funny?”

  But Polly couldn’t help but think about what Bright had said—how Polly was responsible for bringing happiness to so many. And about how Ozma spent her every waking moment trying to ensure that her people were taken care of. Polly didn’t think that happiness was something you could ensure by governing like Ozma, or by decreeing it like Dorothy. True happiness was letting things take their own course. Again, she thought of Bright.

  Dorothy crossed her arms over her ample chest now.

  Polly decided to change the subject to one of her favorites: boys.

  “Speaking of happiness, the Emerald City has some of the most handsome boys in all of Oz. Please tell me that you have had time to meet some.”

  Dorothy’s face lit up. “Back home, the boys were so very country. And let’s just say they did not have the good sense to see me under those ugly dresses I was forced to wear.”

  “Well, they can see you now,” Polly said, nodding at Dorothy’s cleavage, which was on perpetual display.

  “Yes, they can.” Dorothy laughed.

  Polly exhaled—she hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath. Her heart was beating fast, too. She must have been nervous. She had never felt that way before, not even with Ozma.

  “Look!” Dorothy exclaimed, pointing at the horizon. Polly could see the multicolored assortment of caravans, tents, and stalls that made up the chaotic, bustling bazaar of the Fringe. As they floated closer, Toto sniffed the air. Exotic spices and rich perfumes wafted up from the market. Hundreds of people—some of them ordinary-looking Munchkins or Winkies or other citizens of Oz, others dressed in wild and bizarre robes and costumes that made their identities impossible to guess—bustled back and forth between the countless stalls where vendors hawked everything from potions guaranteed to ensure eternal life to fresh vegetables brought in from Munchkin Country.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this in my entire life!” Dorothy said in delight. The carpet landed at the edge of the bazaar and Heathcliff leapt lightly over Toto, causing the little dog to bark furiously again.

  Polly gave Heathcliff a dirty look. “Don’t harass our guests,” she chided. Heathcliff only purred.

  Dorothy looked around expectantly. “Well?” she asked.

  Polly blinked. “Well what?”

  “What should I do with my luggage?” Dorothy explained. “I’m the queen, after all. I can’t possibly carry this myself!”

  “Oh,” Polly said. “I suppose the carpet can carry it for you. Carpet, do you mind?”

  The carpet waved one corner indignantly.

  “I’d be ever so grateful,” Dorothy said sweetly. The carpet subsided.

  “It’s sulking,” Polly whispered, “but it will do what you ask. It just wants to make a point.”

  “Oz is so fun!” Dorothy giggled. “Imagine, a cranky flying carpet!”

  “They’re all a bit fickle,” Polly said. “Runs in the family, I’m afraid.”

  With the carpet reluctantly floating along behind them, laden down with Dorothy’s baggage, the foursome made their way toward the bazaar. At first people looked at them with irritation—Dorothy’s luggage really did take up a lot of room—but then they did a double take when they caught sight of Dorothy. She pretended not to notice, but Polly could tell she adored the attention. She smiled and waved. Whispers spread outward from the little group like ripples in a pond. “It’s the Witchslayer!” Polly overheard. “The stories are true! The Witchslayer has returned!”

  “Witchslayer! Witchslayer!” Soon people were cheering Dorothy openly. Munchkins ran forward, offering to carry her bags. Others reached out to touch Toto’s fur or brush their fingers against the hem of Dorothy’s dress. Dorothy beamed, drinking in their adoration. She was surrounded by a crowd of admirers. At first, she tried to buy various trinkets, but the merchants refused to accept payment, pressing their wares on her with exclamations of gratitude. It wasn’t long before Dorothy was simply taking whatever she wanted from each stall, loading down the poor carpet with a pile of treasures.

  “Oz is such a wonderful place!” she called out. Polly smiled and stayed with Dorothy for a while, enjoying her new friend’s delight. After a bit, though, she grew bored of the spectacle and wandered off toward a stall selling beautiful silks and other fabrics. This close to the Deadly Desert, the light was hot and clear, far different from the balmy, mist-diffused sunlight in Rainbow Falls. Polly let her robe slip from her shoulders, enjoying the heat on her skin. The fairies had crossed the Deadly Desert who knew how long ago; maybe Polly should try a sojourn in the dunes for her next adventure. Ordinary people didn’t survive the crossing, but surely just a brief trip through the desert’s edge would be harmless for Polly. After all, she had plenty of fairy blood. . . .

  Lost in her reverie, Polly didn’t notice Dorothy’s shrieks until Dorothy was standing right behind her. “Polly! Polly! Polly! I’ve been looking for you for hours!”

  “Has it really been that long?” Polly asked, surprised. Dorothy looked terrible. Her dress was dirty and her hair was a mess. A bad sunburn was spreading across her cheeks and collarbone. Even Toto looked a little frazzled.

  “Yes, it’s been ages,” Dorothy said crossly. “I did all my shopping, my feet
are killing me, I’ve wandered all over this market a thousand times, and I’m ready to go somewhere cool and change out of this dress. It was all wrong for the weather; I don’t know why you didn’t warn me.”

  “But the market is huge,” Polly said, puzzled. “You couldn’t begin to see the whole thing in one day—”

  “Polly,” Dorothy said, her lower lip quivering, “can’t you see I’m just miserable? How can you think about yourself at a time like this?”

  “I’m sorry,” Polly said, genuinely alarmed to see Dorothy so upset. “I’m a fairy, you know, we’re not always the most sensitive creatures. Let’s find you someplace to rest.”

  Dorothy looked around, her tears forgotten. “Isn’t there a palace or something? A hotel, at least? I could go for a nice Munchkin dinner buffet.”

  Polly shook her head. “The carpet makes a very good tent if you ask it politely,” she explained, “but this isn’t like Rainbow Falls. People don’t come here to vacation, they come here to—”

  “A tent? Outdoors?” Dorothy’s eyes were huge and swimming with tears. “But how will I rest?”

  Oh dear, Polly thought to herself. This would never do. Some of Dorothy’s quirks were starting to get a little exasperating. Maybe this was just how people from the Other Place behaved. But it was true, she reminded herself, what she’d told Dorothy about being a fairy. She wasn’t always tuned in to other people’s needs.

  “We could go back to the Rainbow Citadel, I suppose,” Polly offered. “I can ask the carpet to hurry. Although it would be an awful shame to cut our trip short like—”

  “Thank you, Polly, that will do very nicely,” Dorothy said curtly. There was an edge in her voice Polly had never heard before. As if Dorothy was issuing a command, not making a request.

  Polly shrugged it off. Dorothy was tired. She should have known better than to take the girl on such a long trip without knowing her better. “If you want,” she said. “I just need to find my unicorn.”

  “Can’t he find his own way home?” Dorothy exclaimed petulantly.

  “I suppose so,” Polly said dubiously. “But the last time I left him somewhere he got into all sorts of trouble with a Munchkin farmer’s herd of cows—”

  “Polly, I really wish you wouldn’t go on so,” Dorothy said, smoothing her hair and frowning. “It’s not very considerate.”

  “Sorry,” Polly said. “Unicorn!” she called. “Unicorn! Come here, unicorn!” After a moment, she rolled her eyes. “HEATHCLIFF!” she screamed. Dorothy clapped her hands over her ears with an exaggerated wince. But Heathcliff came bounding out from behind a nearby stall, licking his chops. He smelled suspiciously of barbecue sauce.

  “I hope you paid for whatever you ate,” Polly said sternly. “And look at you, you’ve lost your horn. Now I’m going to have to make you another one.”

  Heathcliff looked up at her adoringly and purred.

  “He sounds like a tractor,” Dorothy muttered. “And he smells.” Toto barked as if in agreement.

  “He does his best,” Polly said mildly. “He can’t help his unicorn nature.”

  Dorothy only snorted.

  Polly summoned the carpet, which was sunning itself in a nearby square. It was even more laden down than it had been previously thanks to the many gifts Dorothy had helped herself to, but Polly herself hadn’t done any shopping, so she told herself it all evened out. “Poor carpet,” she said sympathetically when Dorothy wasn’t looking. The girls climbed aboard. Dorothy clutched Toto tightly, as if the little dog might leap out of her arms. Heathcliff turned around in several circles, licked his rear with gusto, and then curled up with his tail across his nose. Within minutes, he was snoring loudly. Dorothy sighed pointedly but didn’t say anything.

  “If you don’t mind, carpet, we’d like to get back quickly,” Polly told the carpet. It gave off a distinct air of martyrdom as it rose into the air and carried them back toward Rainbow Falls at a brisk clip.

  Dorothy’s head was lolling to one side; every few seconds she would start awake with a jerk, but soon she tilted over completely and was fast asleep against Heathcliff’s shoulder. Toto gave Polly a baleful look and settled down on his haunches next to his mistress, looking alert and watchful. Polly ignored the dog, watching the countryside flash by below and lamenting the missed opportunities of their brief trip. She’d wanted so badly to see the sun rise over the desert, to feel the night chill lift and turn into the ovenlike heat of late morning, to find a desert-loving boy or three to teach her all the constellations and bring her mulled dust wine . . .

  A huge snore ripped through the cool evening air. Polly glanced over; Dorothy’s mouth was hanging open, and she was snoring even more loudly than Heathcliff. Even Toto was asleep now. Polly smiled. Her guest was charming, in her own way. But awfully demanding. This was why Polly wasn’t cut out to be a ruler. She just didn’t like having to constantly take care of other people. Maybe Dorothy would like to spend a few days at Rainbow Falls by herself. Polly could enlist several of the Sprites to keep her busy and carry her things about while Polly snuck off for a little side trip somewhere. Maybe climb one of the Moving Mountains, or soak in the hot springs in the far hills of Winkie Country.

  They were approaching Rainbow Falls quickly now. As always, the towering falls and brilliant colors lifted Polly’s heart. Who could possibly be unhappy in a place like Rainbow Falls? As far as Polly was concerned, it was the most sacred place in all of Oz. No matter how far she traveled, it would always be her home, the place where her heart belonged. She was lucky to be a part of it.

  Dorothy mumbled in her sleep and stirred restlessly as the carpet began its descent, but she didn’t wake, even when the carpet landed a bit gracelessly on the grounds of the Rainbow Citadel. Today was an especially fine day; the sun refracted through the rainbow mists, sending dazzling multicolored light across the crystal facets and ornate carvings of the citadel. Heathcliff delicately extricated himself from Dorothy’s snoring embrace without waking her, and bounded away, chasing rainbow shadows until he disappeared in the swirling mist. Toto growled in his sleep; one of his paws twitched.

  Polly considered waking her guests, but they were a bit more appealing asleep at the moment than they were awake. The more that she thought about it, the more irritated she was at having Dorothy dictate when they’d had to return home. Maybe Dorothy would be in a better mood when she woke up. Polly certainly hoped so.

  She left Dorothy and Toto sleeping on the lawn, surrounded by piles of suitcases. The carpet would be irate at not being allowed to go back to its nest until Dorothy woke up, but it was only a carpet. It would recover. As glad as she was to see Rainbow Falls again, the halls of the citadel seemed suddenly overly familiar. She wanted adventure, travel, distant lands, and new faces. She wanted—

  Polly pushed open the door to her rooms and stopped short.

  FIVE

  “It’s you,” she said.

  Bright was lounging on her bed, shirtless. He looked even tanner and more muscular than he had when he’d left her on the beach. His hair was longer, and the angles of his face were sharper.

  “I let myself in,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  Polly hid a smile. “I’m extremely upset,” she said solemnly. “You’re going to have to spend a long time apologizing.”

  “Is that so,” he said with a grin.

  “Mmm-hmm,” Polly said, throwing herself on him. “You are.”

  He did. Quite extensively.

  Afterward, Polly gave a deep sigh of contentment and nestled her head on Bright’s firm chest. “You should break in all the time,” she said with a yawn. “You’re good at saying you’re sorry.”

  Bright laughed, tangling his fingers in her long hair. “Sounds good to me, babe. You’re a pretty special girl.”

  “I know,” Polly said.

  “Where were you, anyway? I looked all over the Falls for you. The Sprites wouldn’t tell me anything.”

  “Went to the Fringe
with Dorothy,” Polly said. “Not worth the trouble. I could have spent that time with you and your apologies. Especially if you’re going to leave again in the morning.”

  But instead of laughing, Bright stiffened. “Dorothy?” He sat up, dislodging Polly’s head, and looked at her. “Not Dorothy the Witchslayer?”

  “The one and only,” Polly confirmed. “She’s back. Did you know?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been hearing some things,” Bright said. She didn’t know him all that well, but she’d never seen him like this before. All his laughing, sardonic manner had fallen away. He looked serious—and worried. Funny how that feeling seemed to be going around since Dorothy’s arrival at Rainbow Falls.

  “Like what?”

  “Like she’s bad news,” he said. “Like Queen Ozma is missing. Like Dorothy’s been killing people. Like the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman are doing some seriously disturbing shit.”

  “Killing people?” Polly laughed out loud. “That’s ridiculous. This is Oz. People don’t kill people. Killing is for the Wicked.”

  “She already killed a witch. Why do you think she is called the Witchslayer?”

  “That was an accident. She can’t help where a tornado landed her house. Dorothy can be a little high maintenance, but she’s just a kid helping out while Ozma takes a break.”

  “Is that what she told you?”

  “It makes sense. Ozma’s been so busy lately, she must be exhausted.”

  But he shook his head. “Pol, it’s more than that. It has to be. Think about it. Who brought her back? And why? Oz isn’t in any danger. At least, it wasn’t. But all the stories I’ve been hearing are really, really bad. That she’s completely power-hungry, that nobody really knows where Ozma is, that Dorothy is trying to take over Oz by force. While you were off seeing the sights—”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I just think you should keep a better eye on your kingdom, is all.”