“Courage—I thought becoming a werelion would help me with my cowardice, but I was mistaken,” admits Werelion.
“Oz keeps a great pot of courage,” says the man, “which he has covered with a golden plate to keep it from running over. He will be glad to give you some,” he says and turns to me. “What do you wish to ask the Wizard for?”
“To send me back to Kansas,” I say.
“Where is Kansas?”
“In another realm.”
“Oz can do anything, so he will find Kansas for you. First you must get to see him though, and that will be a hard task, for the Great Wizard does not like to see anyone,” he says and looks down to Toto. “What do you want to ask Oz for?”
Toto wags his tail in response.
It’s clear we are not getting through without some pull, so I say, “Gayelette, the Slayer Witch of the North, told me to come and speak to him.”
“Dorothy here killed the Vampire Witch of the East. Those are the witch’s boots. Gayelette sent Dorothy here to address the Wizard. For that alone the Wizard would want to speak with her, so if we may go through,” Ardie says and Nick groans, annoyed by Ardie’s approach.
The Koala’s eyes go wide in what might be fear and then he looks at me.
“It was an accident. I’m not dangerous, I swear.” There must be something I can do to convince him we’re safe enough to let through. We can’t stop here. Not now, after everything it’s taken to get here. He shakes his head then speaks.
“You are Dorothy?” he says with a grave tone.
“Yes. Why do you say it like that?” I ask with an uncomfortable laugh.
“Because I have heard of you. The tunnels are abuzz with news of a powerful new sorceress entering this Land.”
“The Vampire Witch’s boots are the only magical thing about me. That’s part of the reason I need to see the Wizard. Can you please let us through?” I implore, and he shakes his head again.
“You may go but the gates to the city are closed to tourists at this hour, and the walk from here is long. There are farms but no one will answer after dark. I suggest you do not venture there now.”
“They shut the gates?” Ardie asks.
“Yes, only residents who have a passkey can get in, but most who do never leave. In the City of Emeralds, they have everything anyone could ever want or need. It is a grand and enchanting place. I went once. It’s beautiful.”
“You don’t live there?” Werelion asks with wide, curious eyes.
“Oh, no, we live underground. Many shifters do. I am about to close the gate for the night. Since you cannot gain entry to the city this evening, please come over for dinner. Though we do not have brains or enough to satisfy the Lion, there are many restaurants in the square, and we could feed the humans. We still eat as though we are human. Leaves do not satisfy our appetites. We crave them, but they are not enough,” he says with his tiny grin. “It will thrill my wife to meet Dorothy and her strange animal. As for your lodging for the night, we do not have room enough for all of you, but you may use our facilities, wash up, and then sleep in the guard house above ground. It is empty—we never use it. The tunnel’s magic is at its peak here, so we get little trouble.”
“Thank you, the guard house sounds perfect,” Nick says.
The shifter takes out wrist bands for re-entry and puts one on each of us. Disks of thin green crystal the size of a watch with bands of pure magic, made of nothing but shimmery green mist, wrap around our wrists.
“These transport passes are removable, but I suggest keeping them if you want to re-enter the tunnels. This band will gain you entry along the entire yellow brick tunnel and are good to have when traveling from Munchkin Country to the Land of Emerald and back.”
When we each thank him, he smiles but waves the gratitude away.
“Oh, you are welcome. It will thrill my wife you are here. Come back with me, all of you. After you’ve met my wife, I will show you the guard house. Then we will have dinner,” he says, brimming with so much cheer and enthusiasm it’s contagious.
A chime sounds and the shifter goes to his kiosk and presses a large, faceted emerald button rimmed in shiny copper. The green mist thickens, erecting a wall that cuts the tunnel off from the ground above.
“Now only those with passes will gain entry,” he says.
“Or exit,” Ardie adds.
“Well, yes, but many of us live in these tunnels. It is rare tourists take the transport to the end of the line here. You are the first I’ve seen in quite a long while.”
“No one travels here?”
“Oh, they do. Locals come and go, but you are the first tourists to come through in a long while, and most who do already have the entry passes.”
“I will keep mine. Thank you…” Ardie says and stops as though he wants to say more. “I am sorry, I do not recall your name.”
“There is nothing to recall for I never gave it to you, but my name is Ellis and my wife’s name is Tottie.”
“This is Dorothy, Nick, Werelion, Toto, and I am Millard, but please, call me Ardie.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” he says, and we follow him down the steps, into the junction, then veer right into another set of tunnels that leads into the underground town of Emerald Station.
* * *
After a hearty dinner and a bath, Ellis showed us to the guard house outside the station. It’s a cabin made of solid, thick wood, elevated above the ground about one-story high with a magical lift of green mist for what he also called, ‘friendlies.’ There are watch posts in each corner of the deck that surrounds the cabin, and inside there is a living room area that includes a small kitchen, one bathroom with a toilet and sink, and a bedroom with one full bed.
Ellis said goodbye and went back down into the station while we got ready for bed. Now, Toto lies down on the living room floor with Werelion curled up beside him. Ardie guards the door of the cabin from the living room and Nick and I take the bedroom. With only one bed, Nick settles into a chair. As I settle into the bed, it’s very obvious he’s uncomfortable as he twists and readjusts his position, still wearing all his armor.
“Come and share the bed.”
“I couldn’t,” he says, and I know I shouldn’t take offense but that stung.
“I won’t make any moves, I promise. This bed will be far more comfortable than that hard chair. Come on. It’s big enough for both of us to have a good night’s rest. And take off all that armor. Ardie will let us know if anyone is coming. You should have enough time to put it all back on if we get attacked.”
After a moment of pensive apprehension, he stands, takes off his armor and weapons, then his shoes, and gets in beside me.
“Perhaps I should sleep atop the bedding—” Nick starts, and I stop him.
“Nick, it’s fine! I won’t try anything. We’re friends, right?”
“Yes, we are.”
“You’ve already had your tongue in my mouth, your hands in my pants—it’s fine,” I laugh and roll my eyes at him. “What is with the proper act? Relax.”
“I… I only want to show you the respect you deserve, Dorothy, and I know I haven’t shown it since we met, but I have the utmost respect for you, and I need you to know it,” he avers.
“I do, and I appreciate it. Now get over here and cuddle up. I’m freezing,” I tell him. There is no fire place here and the nights in Oz have proven to be cold. These sheets and blankets are thin, and the cold is bitter tonight.
He scoots closer, wrapping his arms around me from behind, spooning me like that night in his cabin. Despite how much I want him to kiss me, I know he won’t. And I sure as hell won’t throw myself at him. He’s made it clear he doesn’t like me like that, but he likes me enough not to use me, so if I did try and kiss him, he’d just turn me down. Why embarrass myself? It’s pointless.
Nick could have his pick of women, and has. I’ve only had one boyfriend. A relationship I only had because there weren’t too many people around to choose
from. Billy’s farm was next to ours and he’d pick me up for school. There wasn’t much to do other than make out and hook up and look at the stars. Neither of us were distraught over our break up. He was going off to school, and that was that. It was over and we were both cool about it. No tears, no nothing. Just a hug and a smile, then he left. I suppose we understood that if he returned and I hadn’t left Kansas and he hadn’t found another girl, ending up together for lack of choices was a strong possibility. But that would be the only reason that would happen. Not because we loved each other or anything. Not because he loved me and would miss me and needed to have me.
Before, I never imagined anyone loving me that way, so I never thought about it as a possibility, but now I think I’d like to have that. I’d like to have a guy like Nick love me, but one who has a heart, who would want me back, who could fall in love with me and think I’m special, even if I’m not.
Now that I’ve had this adventure, now that I’ve done something so absurd and terrifying, maybe I’m a little special. No one would believe it though. They’d think I was nuts or making it up. If I tell anyone I’ll end up in an asylum or something. If I have to give the boots to the wizard, I’ll have no proof at all. The only one who’ll know is Toto, and he can’t talk to confirm my story. So, this crazy adventure will be my secret.
Even though the one thing that makes me special will be something I cannot share, maybe it will give me an air of mystery and someone like Nick will fall in love with me. What’s most likely though is that I’ll meet an average guy who matches my averageness, perhaps in college, or at my average job, or some online dating app or website will match us up. We’ll date, and after we’ve dated for a certain period, it’ll be logical for us to get more serious. Sometimes we’ll fight, but we’ll get along well enough, and we won’t want to be alone forever, so we’ll get engaged, then married, then we’ll have kids. Maybe we’ll stay together or maybe we’ll get divorced. That will be my life. Average job, average husband, average relationship, average life. But I will tell my kids this story. I will remember it and keep it always, knowing it makes me special to have come here on a cyclone, and to have met these wonderful friends who I will miss forever. Just thinking of never seeing them again makes me teary. I hug Nick’s arms wrapped around me, holding them to my chest as I cry.
“Dorothy? Are you all right?” he asks concerned.
“Yeah,” I croak out.
“Why are you crying?” he asks, concern heavy in his tone.
“I’m just going to miss you, all of you, when I go back to my life in Kansas,” I say through tears as he holds me.
“Oh, Dorothy, I will miss you too, but Kansas is far safer for you. It is better for you to go back to your realm.”
“I know it’s safer, that I have to go back, that I need to go back to tell my family I’m alive. There’s a year left of school and I want to finish. I just hate the thought of never seeing you or Ardie or Werelion again. Although I can’t say I hate the thought of never having to kill another vampire,” I say and roll over, turning to face him.
He smiles at me and I smile back even though I’m crying.
“Toto will miss hunting with Ardie. I’m not about to start hunting though.” He wipes the tears from my eyes with the pads of his thumbs as a winsome grin plays on his lips. I will miss his beautiful face. Tears fill my eyes again at the thought of never seeing that smile after tomorrow. As he gazes into my teary eyes, his grin disappears and his eyes fill with pity. “And I’ll miss all those ladykiller smiles of yours,” I say with a laugh and a look of shock takes over his face.
“Lady killer? I’ve only ever killed a bitten woman—”
“It’s an expression in my realm. It means handsome,” I tell him with a light laugh through my tears. His smile returns, and the constricting band around my heart loosens.
The tears stop as he wipes away their last remnants from my cheeks with his fingertips. He strokes my cheek with his thumb and the desire to kiss him is overwhelming. When he leans in, my heart jumps into my throat in desperate anticipation. But right when I think he’ll do it; he kisses my forehead instead.
We’re just friends now, and I appreciate his sincerity. And I’m also leaving, forever. I take a deep breath, refusing to cry again.
There’s a light scratching on the door and I know it’s Toto. He must sense I’m sad. He always knows when I’m down. Werelion opens the door to the bedroom for him, and when he sees the tears in my eyes he hurries over, concern pinching his furry face.
“Dorothy! What’s wrong?” the Werelion asks as Ardie charges in.
“What did you do?” Ardie challenges Nick.
“Nothing!” Nick says throwing his arms up in defense.
“I’m just sad. I’ll miss you guys when I leave,” I admit.
“Oh! Dorothy, we’ll miss you too,” Ardie says and comes over, sitting beside me on the bed.
I sit up and he hugs me tight. My arms wrap around his torso and I hug him back. The Werelion comes over, sits on the bed, and wraps us both in his large lion-shifter arms. Toto follows, jumping up on the bed and edging his way to my side to lick my chin. Even though this is such a nice moment, I’m still so sad. I’ve grown to care so much for these three guys and I will miss them.
Since my parents passed, I’ve made few significant connections with people. Billy was my only real friend and when he left, it was no big deal. But this, this is painful. This is the first time in a long time I’ve made such strong connections.
“Don’t go! Stay, Dorothy, please stay,” the Werelion says, crying too.
“No, she has to go. It’s not safe for her here. Kansas is safe. And it’s her home. If her home is safe, then that is where she should be even if it’s hard for us,” Nick says.
“He’s right. We’ll miss you but Kansas is your home, and you’ll be safe there. This realm is riddled with vampires, and zombies nowhere near as nice as me, and werebeasts nowhere near as nice as Werelion.”
“I know I need to go, but I will miss you all so much, always,” I say through tears. Toto whimpers along with me, sad to leave them too.
We all cuddle until we fall asleep, except for Ardie because he can’t sleep at all. Tomorrow will be my last day with them, and I will cherish every moment we have left together.
14
The Guardian of the Gate
The sun rises as we emerge from the copse of trees hiding Emerald Station. The yellow brick road lies just outside the woods, but somehow, we’ve gotten turned around. None of us can tell which way we came from.
After a minute of deliberation, Nick points toward a beacon of radiant green fog in the distant sky and says, “That must be the Emerald City.” So we turn right and head down the road toward the mystical shimmer on the horizon.
The brilliance of the city intensifies as we travel on and the magic that swells from the city and dissipates into the ether comes further into focus the nearer we draw. Misty sparkles and little green bubbles lift into the sky as though the city itself is effervescing.
Grand estates surrounded by magnificent gates formed of natural emerald crystals carved into intricate designs line the road to the city. Some estates’ gates are clean and sleek while flowering vines wrap around the crystal bars of others, and some stand against high emerald green hedges manicured with rigor. At many of the estates we pass, elaborate topiaries and sculptures of shifters—werewolves, birds with human legs, bipedal rabbits in suits and gowns—decorate the paths to the gate doors.
Just like Munchkin Country where everything is shades of blue, in the Land of Emerald, everything is shades of green. Kelly green grass surrounds Seafoam farmhouses. Spring green vines with colorful flowers coil around tall absinthe gates. Virescent mansions three and four stories high have grand crystal doors of mint and lime and olive with intricately carved chartreuse tinted windows.
In Munchkin Country, the buildings are all domes, but here all the structures are hexagonal and look as though they’r
e made from emeralds the size of buildings. It’s like they sculpted the homes and structures on these grand estates from large crystals that grew from the ground, etching out the insides of the massive stones to make rooms with doors and windows, perhaps even plumbing. Some have pointed roofs, but some are flat or angled, and all appear to have a contemporary aesthetic. They’re like elegant modern mansions made of sleek green gems.
Everything I’ve seen in Oz so far has looked as though it’s out of the eighteen hundreds, but this place is like nothing I’ve ever encountered. The individuals we pass—in their homes or working their fields, most of whom are shifters—seem to pay us no mind.
The road has more people on it than anywhere I’ve been in Oz so far. Most of them push carts loaded with barrels or produce. There are a few ahead pulling their carts toward the city, and a few shifters with empty carts have passed us going back the other way. A shifter centaur—a man with a human torso and a stallion’s body—pulls an empty cart toward us. We move to the far side of the road so he can pass.
“Hello,” he says to me and grins. He’s got a gorgeous upper body–sinewy, sculpted, broad—and his face is just as remarkable with perfect straight teeth and a strong jaw, warm brown eyes, olive skin, and thick black waves to his jawline. His lower half is like a Murgese with pitch black horse hair to the hooves. He is a striking image, like something out of a Greek myth.
“Hello,” I reply with a polite smile.
“Where are you headed?” he asks me. The subtle raise of his brow and a suggestive wink make my eyes widen. Nick tenses, and so does Ardie.
“Please,” Ardie scoffs. “What can you even do with her with that thing,” he says, pointing to his lower half, and I giggle. “You’d maim her.”
“I think she could handle me,” the centaur says, and I guffaw.
“Are you saying you think I have a big—”
“Keep walking,” Werelion growls at him, cutting me off, and the centaur’s eyes widen before he turns his head and trots away.
Dorothy In the Land of Monsters Page 20
