Dorothy Must Die Novella #5 Read online

  It was difficult for the Scarecrow to make his way through the woods. The animals surged around him and sometimes underfoot, nearly tripping him. The trees grew densely together, and while the Lion wove around them with ease, the Scarecrow had to pick his way. His clothes caught on the underbrush, and branches hit him in the face. “I’m a long way from the palace,” he thought, and he didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud until the Lion laughed.

  “It’s not the luxury you’re used to,” he agreed. The Scarecrow resented the implication that he’d gotten soft, but he said nothing. The Lion would see soon enough how tough he could be, when he found a way to regain his throne and restore order to Oz. No one would doubt him then.

  At last they reached another clearing, this one much bigger than the one where they’d met Cornelius. Animal skins were rigged overhead on a network of ropes and pulleys, forming a kind of canopy. At one end of the clearing was a lopsided structure that looked like a rickety, giant wooden jungle gym, with more animal skins piled on various wooden platforms and ledges. The Lion leapt up onto it, and the whole arrangement creaked and wobbled. The Lion yawned as his subjects flooded into the clearing.

  “Home at last!” he sighed in satisfaction. “I’ll need something to eat.” He looked pointedly downward, and several badgers seized a young deer who was staring obliviously in the other direction. It struggled briefly, but the badgers subdued it and dragged it up to the Lion’s platform. The Lion licked his lips happily and the Scarecrow looked away in horror as he dove into his snack. The Lion had said he’d never killed anyone before, but apparently that didn’t extend to animals.

  “It’s part of the job, you know,” someone said at his side, and he looked down to see Cornelius.

  “Eating your subjects?” the Scarecrow said, aghast. Cornelius shrugged.

  “He’s a lion. It’s his nature. He doesn’t mean to be cruel. He’s doing it to survive. Killing for sport is something only humans do. The rules are different here, Your Majesty. We all understand the law of the forest.”

  When the Lion was finished eating, he belched loudly, and a hush fell across the clearing. He turned his gaze to the Scarecrow.

  “Now we must decide what to do about the throne,” he said. News had traveled fast, the Scarecrow realized; the gathered animals began to shout out suggestions. “Eat the impostor!” shrieked a bobcat. “Bury her in a burrow!” yelled a fox. “Chew off her toes!” squeaked a mouse. The Scarecrow almost groaned aloud. He could just picture the Lion’s menagerie charging the palace and falling dead within seconds to Jinjur’s bullets. They were no match for her. At least not without a good plan.

  “I need my books, Lion,” he said suddenly. He’d find the perfect strategy in one of those volumes. He just knew it.

  A silence fell over the animals. And then the Scarecrow heard what could only be described as a giggle that quickly turned into a roar of laughter. . . .

  “Leave us, all of you,” the Lion growled. “This is a matter for the Scarecrow and I to decide. Cornelius, bring me Lulu.”

  “Lulu will know what to do!” yelled a dormouse excitedly, before one of its companions hushed it.

  “Who’s Lulu?” the Scarecrow choked out, sure that the fabric of his face was on fire.

  “Help.” The Lion glanced at him and raised a bushy eyebrow. “And maybe don’t mention the b-word again, if you want the beasts to take you seriously. We’re not big readers in the forest.”

  The Scarecrow nodded. He wasn’t in the palace anymore.

  “I wouldn’t mind dessert,” the Lion mused, and the rest of the animals fled.

  EIGHT

  The Scarecrow was eager to meet this mysterious, powerful Lulu. Would she be wise, like him? Or a fierce warrior? Perhaps she’d even be both. He twiddled his gloved thumbs impatiently as the sun sank below the treetops and the first stars drifted down from the sky.

  “Get yer dirty paws off of me, you stinking rabbit!” bellowed a hoarse voice from the shadows. The Scarecrow sat bolt upright. A small, hunched figure was trundling toward him wearing some kind of enormous cloak and slapping furiously at the exasperated Cornelius. “I can find the damn Lion by his smell!” it added crossly, stepping into the light.

  “Oh no,” the Scarecrow groaned. Things had just gone from bad to worse.

  Lulu was a winged monkey. And the Scarecrow hated winged monkeys. During his travels with Dorothy, the Wicked Witch of the West had used the Golden Cap to command them to destroy the Scarecrow and the Woodman and capture the Lion. The monkeys had torn him to pieces, and the Winkies had had to put him together again. Dorothy had taken the cap when she’d defeated the Wicked Witch, and the winged monkeys had carried them to the Emerald City. But he’d never entirely forgotten what they’d done to him first.

  The King of the Winged Monkeys had been a huge beast, powerfully built and regal, but Lulu was neither large nor frightening, and she certainly didn’t look like royalty. She was a young, wiry monkey whose wings had not reached their full growth, and she was wearing a miniskirt and a leather biker jacket studded with garish fake rubies and with two holes cut in the back to accommodate her wings. A pair of sunglasses was perched on her snub nose, and she carried a candy cigarette in a long holder, which she waved around when she talked.

  “You sent for me, Your Majesty?” she drawled, leaning against the Lion’s platform.

  “Lulu is one of the cleverest beasts in my kingdom,” the Lion explained to the Scarecrow while Lulu preened. “She’ll be able to help us figure out what to do about—”

  “You want to dump that Jinjur bitch, am I right?” Lulu said briskly, snapping her fingers. “Send her packing? Make all those girls with guns look for her at the bottom of a river?”

  The Scarecrow was not impressed, and he was irritated the Lion had summoned this bizarre creature without so much as consulting him. “I won’t have any problem finding a way to oust the usurper myself, if you don’t mind,” he said coolly.

  Lulu laughed out loud. “Right, like you’ve been doing such a great job of that so far. Listen, sonny, there’s a reason the big boy over here called on me.” She puffed up her chest. “I’m the smartest thing in Oz, and today’s your lucky day—I’m willing to help you get Jinjur out of the palace. Of course, if you don’t mind me saying so, I think the real question here is who ought to replace her.”

  “What do you mean?” sputtered the Scarecrow.

  “I think the cards are clear. You’re not fit to rule, or else you’d still be ruling. Me, on the other hand”—she tapped her lapels—“I’m the one you want running the show.”

  “Lulu, that’s enough,” the Lion said, clearly amused by the monkey’s brazenness. “I summoned you here to help us plan our attack, not belittle the Scarecrow’s abilities.”

  Lulu shrugged. “It was worth a try. No hard feelings?” She looked at the Scarecrow expectantly.

  The Scarecrow mumbled a reply, but inside he was seething.

  “Then it’s time to get down to business,” Lulu said, miming rolling up her sleeves. “The obvious plan is to attack immediately, but we need to use stealth if we’re going to win. Word on the street is she’s got bigger numbers, but her soldiers will probably be sitting around on their heinies twiddling their thumbs now that they’ve taken the palace. If we surprise ’em, we stand a chance, but I’m picturing casualties.”

  “Exactly my point,” the Scarecrow began. “Which is why I don’t think—”

  The Lion spoke over him as if he hadn’t even opened his mouth. “My thoughts exactly, Lulu,” he said. He leapt down from his platform and sketched a map of the surrounding area in the dirt with one claw. “We have too much ground to traverse if we want to sneak up on the Emerald City,” he pointed out. “Jinjur’s soldiers will see us coming a mile away.”

  “Not if we fly,” Lulu said triumphantly. “The rest of the monkeys will be happy to help, I’m sure of it. We’re dying for something to do. We’ll land just outside the Emerald City and sneak in
.” Her expression turned serious. “All reports are that Jinjur is ruthless. The few people who’ve escaped from the palace don’t have pretty stories to tell. We’ll have to be prepared.”

  “But I don’t want—” the Scarecrow said, and again the Lion interrupted him.

  “My people will fight,” he vowed. “Oz has never had a tyrant on the throne, and we won’t start now. When Jinjur is taken down, we can discuss who should replace her.”

  At that, the Scarecrow made a noise of outrage, and both the Lion and Lulu finally stopped talking as if they had both just noticed he was there. “I will replace Jinjur when she is defeated,” he snapped. “And we certainly won’t be attacking the palace directly. She’ll see us flying in from a mile away, too. A better solution would be to—”

  Lulu sighed loudly, cutting him off. “Listen, sport,” she said, “you had your chance, and you blew it. Now it’s time to stand aside and let people who can handle the job take over.”

  The Scarecrow was mad at Lulu, but even madder at himself. While he was trying to think of a plan and remember what he’d read, Lulu had raced ahead of him and presented her own. The Scarecrow wanted nothing more than to protest again, but he realized he was outnumbered. The Lion’s subjects wouldn’t be likely to side with him, and if the winged monkeys were anything like what he remembered, they’d hardly back him up either. He had no choice but to go along with Lulu and the Lion’s suicidal plan until he had the opportunity to act—and to think of something else. If he didn’t use the Wizard’s gift to find a better answer, all of Oz would be plunged into a war—and he would rather die than see that happen.

  NINE

  Lulu wasted no time in assembling the winged monkeys. She put two fingers in her mouth and blew a piercing whistle that was so loud it sent Cornelius running for cover. Even the Lion flinched. Moments later, a squadron of monkeys in flight helmets and goggles descended into the clearing, stirring up a small dust storm with the furious beating of their wings.

  “Right, chaps!” Lulu barked as the monkeys folded their wings. “It’s time to fight. Are you ready to do right for your country?” It wasn’t entirely clear to the Scarecrow why the monkey had such authority over her brethren, when many of them were clearly much older and bigger than she was, but the monkeys paid careful attention to her.

  “Why do you listen to her?” he asked the nearest monkey quietly.

  “Lulu’ll be queen any day now,” the monkey whispered. “And she’s a little . . . you know.” He twirled a finger next to his ear. “No sense starting off on the bad side of the one who’s next in line for the throne. Plus, as batty as she is, she’s a sharp cookie.”

  The Scarecrow perked up. “She’s smart and she’s to be queen? Do you think she’d talk to me about ruling?”

  The monkey shot him a scornful look. “Lulu earned our respect,” he said.

  Respect or no respect, the other monkeys were busy arguing with Lulu. But she at least had their attention.

  “Why should we fight? What’s in it for us?” one of them ventured.

  “I’ll see to it personally that everyone’s banana ration is increased,” Lulu said confidently. “And extra holidays after we’ve won.”

  “You don’t have the authority to do that,” another monkey pointed out. Lulu didn’t miss a beat.

  “Not yet,” she said. “But do any of you doubt me? You listen to me because you know I’m headed for big things, and I’ll reward the monkeys who support me.” She glowered menacingly at the monkeys who’d come to her summons. “And I’ll never forget the monkeys who don’t,” she added. “So it’s best not to cross me.”

  The monkeys conferred among themselves briefly, and then the first monkey who had spoken stepped forward. “We’ll help,” he said.

  The Scarecrow thought he saw a flicker of relief in Lulu’s eyes, and he wondered if she was really quite as confident as she seemed. He wondered if it meant more to appear certain than to be right.

  “Glad to see you know what’s best for you,” she said. She turned to the Lion. “We can transport you into battle, but you’ll have to assemble the troops,” she told him. The Lion nodded.

  “Find the best fighters in the forest,” he ordered Cornelius. “Tell them we head for the Emerald City at dawn.” Cornelius nodded and dashed away. Once again, the Scarecrow had been left out. But if he was honest with himself, he had to admit that he was dealing with a different kind of smarts. Lulu had established herself with bravado and intimidation. The Scarecrow had never practiced either of those arts. He was better with facts and figures. But now that they were standing over a makeshift map of the palace and the grounds that one of the more talented monkeys had etched in the dirt, he felt like he should be ready to step up. Only he hadn’t read a book on cartography yet. And he was unfamiliar with the logics of monkey flight. He absolutely hated that.

  The monkeys ignored him completely as they discussed wind currents and angle of approach, and even the Lion seemed to have forgotten he was there. He might as well be back in that field tied to a post for all the good the Wizard’s gifts were doing him. He knew he could find the answer, if only he had enough time. If only he had his books! Why hadn’t he at least tried to save a text on theoretical military strategy when they’d fled the palace?

  Suddenly a bright pink-tinted light flashed in a distant part of the forest. The Scarecrow leaned forward, peering into the trees. In a few seconds, the light flashed again, but this time it didn’t vanish. It flickered through the trees like pink firelight. The Scarecrow looked back to see if anyone else had noticed. They hadn’t. “I’ll go see what that is,” he said unnecessarily. No one stopped him, or even looked his way, as he stepped out of the clearing and began walking toward the light.

  This time, the way through the forest was somehow easier. The trees seemed to be making room for him as he crashed through the underbrush. He tripped once or twice, but never fell, and the light grew steadily larger. It was almost as if whatever the light was, it wanted him to find it. After a few more minutes of walking, he reached a gap in the trees and saw the source of the light.

  It was a woman, although her face was so youthful and flawless that he couldn’t have begun to guess her age. She was wearing a simple, pale dress in a color somewhere between eggshell and rose, and her long golden hair tumbled around her shoulders in loose curls. She was the one glowing with that strange, magical light, the Scarecrow realized. It filled the air around her like a cloud. As he came toward her she smiled, looking up at him through her long eyelashes with strangely familiar crystal-blue eyes.

  “Hello, Scarecrow,” she purred, her musical voice as sweet as honey. “It’s so good to see you again.”

  If he had had a jaw, it would have dropped. “Glinda?” he asked in disbelief.

  Glinda giggled, reaching out her manicured hands to him. “It’s been so long!” she cried, hugging him close. She smelled like jasmine and something even sweeter—so sweet, in fact, that it was almost rotten.

  “But what are you doing here?” the Scarecrow asked, bewildered.

  “Tin is too far away to help us,” she said. “And the Lion—well, there’s a reason I’m coming to you first, but I’m not sure I want to tell you what it is. It might . . .” She paused, her eyelashes fluttering again. “It might hurt your feelings,” she said seriously.

  “I don’t understand,” the Scarecrow said. “Why are you in the Lion’s forest, if you don’t want to see him? What would hurt my feelings?”

  Glinda took a deep breath. “It’s just that the Lion isn’t very clever,” she said. “Not like you, Scare. Is it all right if I call you that? I always felt I had so much more in common with you than I did with the Lion and the Woodman—not that they’re not wonderful, but you’re the one who asked for a brain and got one, and I’ve always been something of an intellectual.”

  The Scarecrow was so happy he hardly knew what to say. “Then you think I’ve been doing a good job?” he asked anxiously. “You take
me seriously?”

  “Of course I take you seriously,” Glinda said immediately. “That’s why I’ve come to help. I know what’s happened in the Emerald City, and I’ve dealt with Jinjur before.”

  “You have?”

  “Oh yes. She comes from the west. She’s always been power hungry and quite mad. I knew she’d do something like this sooner or later, though I never dreamed she’d have the nerve to try and unseat a ruler as strong as you. But I know her, and she won’t stop at the throne. She’ll move out across the rest of Oz, destroying everything in her path. You must stop her and regain the throne, and I can help you. That’s why I’ve come back.”

  The Scarecrow hardly knew what to say. Glinda was a witch, he knew, but he’d never known a witch to get much more involved in politics than enslaving the Winkies for her own ends, or controlling the winged monkeys with a magic cap like the Wicked Witch of the West. Not that Oz had really had politics before. Just the witches battling it out. But that wasn’t political. That was something else. Was she talking about using magic to defeat Jinjur? And if so, was she really that powerful? And where had she come back from? She was hiding something, of that much he felt sure. But he couldn’t begin to guess at what it was, or if she was holding something back because she thought that he wouldn’t be able to bear it. He hadn’t been upset by her comments about the Lion, had he? Why was she trying to protect him?

  “You doubt me,” Glinda said, a hint of coolness in her voice.

  “No, of course not!” the Scarecrow protested. “It’s just that everything is changing so quickly. The Lion and the winged monkeys want to go to war tomorrow, and I think they have the wrong idea. We should be using strategy to get rid of Jinjur, not brute force. She’s already shown she’s powerful and ruthless.” He raised his hands in a helpless gesture. “But they won’t listen to me, and I don’t see how you and I can stop them by ourselves.”