I didn’t entirely understand what he was saying. As I watched the chancellor make his horrible circuit of the room, my heart sank. This wasn’t what I had wanted at all. Norbert had served me faithfully for years.
“Come now,” the Scarecrow said quickly. “Now’s no time to be squeamish, Tin. You want Dorothy to be impressed, you have to be willing to go the extra mile.”
“She—she approves of this?” I asked, finding my voice.
“Approves! Tin, when you tell her what I’ve done—what we’ve done—she’ll be over the moon. Look at what you’ve done for her! Given up your servants, your old life? Transformed these useless little creatures into real weapons? She’ll be at your feet!”
“Are you—” I swallowed. Norbert had come to a stop and was leaning against the table, staring dully at nothing. Trickles of fresh blood seeped down his fur. “Are you sure this is the right thing to do? It’s what she wants?”
“Dorothy doesn’t know what she wants,” the Scarecrow said confidently. “It’s up to you to tell her. And”—he lowered his voice significantly—“to make sure she knows she wants you. A girl as pretty as that? Someone else is bound to snap her up if you can’t manage to tell her how you feel. What better way than with a gift like this?”
I didn’t like what he’d done to Norbert, but his words were persuasive. It was true that every gain comes with some kind of cost. Presumably the Scarecrow had perfected his technique, and further sacrifice wouldn’t be necessary. And if I could go to Dorothy with an army—a real army—she’d finally forgive me for my missteps.
“But he said it hurts him,” I said.
“Hurts him?” The Scarecrow chortled. “Nonsense. Look at him. Happy as a clam.” He snapped his fingers in the chancellor’s face and Norbert began his squeaky circle of the room again.
“He does seem content,” I agreed.
“The process is harmless, really, now that I’ve got it down. It was Glinda’s idea, actually. Magnificent woman. I’d been bandying about ideas, as I said, but she was the one who gave me the final push. She had the idea to start with myself.”
“What do you mean?”
He tapped his head with one finger. “The brains the Wizard gave me are helpful, don’t get me wrong. But there’s so much more I want to know. She helped me soup up my brains—no machine parts, obviously, but magic’s the ticket. Once I did that, I was a new man. Dove right into this project, and look how much I’ve accomplished.”
“You’re fooling around with the Wizard’s gift?”
“The Wizard was a fine fellow, but his magic wasn’t even real—not back then, anyway, though Glinda says he might have found his own store of Oz’s magic when he controlled the Emerald City. But the stuff she and Dorothy are throwing around, that’s the good stuff, my boy, that’s the good stuff. She came to me practically the minute she was back in the palace, making an offer I couldn’t refuse. You wouldn’t believe the leaps I’ve made with my new, improved brains. I never would have thought to experiment on living creatures of Oz before Glinda used her magic on me, and I never would have been able to do it either.” He looked at me keenly. “It’s a new order, Woodman. A new time in Oz. We’re at the center of it. You’re not going to get left behind, are you? I don’t think Dorothy would like that.”
Dorothy. The Wizard’s gifts. The Scarecrow had improved himself so that he could do better. What if I did the same? Then she’d know I deserved her love. If I came to her with an army, and a heart that was even bigger and better? If I showed her I’d done it all for her?
“Can you do something like that for me?” I asked him. “For my heart?”
He smiled. “Had a feeling you might ask. So did Glinda.” He turned to the chancellor. “Go fetch Glinda,” he said, and Norbert squeaked obediently out the door.
We waited in the dim, cool room until the chancellor wheeled back in, with Glinda hovering above the ground a few feet behind him. Her long, strawberry-blonde hair was braided into an elaborate updo, and she wore a shimmering pink gown that looked like it was sewn from thousands of delicate pink spiderwebs. It fitted closely to her tiny waist and belled out again, cascading down to her pink slippers in shimmering waves. Her nails and lips were painted a matching shell pink, and pink gemstones glittered at her ears and throat. She was not as beautiful as Dorothy, and she never would be in my eyes, but I saw the Scarecrow’s point.
“My dearest Woodman,” she cooed. “How good it is to see you. The Scarecrow’s little pet tells me you are here to improve yourself for the glory of Oz?”
“For Dorothy,” I said stubbornly.
Glinda laughed kindly. “Your devotion is admirable, sweet Woodman. Dorothy is certainly lucky to have such a suitor.”
“Do you think so?” I asked, allowing my doubt to show.
“Of course,” she said gently. “You must understand that Dorothy is very busy right now, and overwhelmed by the responsibility that has been placed upon her shoulders. She’s concerned about you—you mustn’t ever imagine otherwise—and I know she loves you. But right now she needs you to be brave and strong and self-reliant. She needs you to be there for her, and to ask nothing of her.”
“She loves me?” I looked up at her eagerly. “She told you she loves me?”
Glinda’s mouth turned up at the corners in a beatific smile. “Not in so many words, but she doesn’t have to. It’s plain as day. All of us can see it. Can’t we, Scarecrow?”
“Oh, sure,” the Scarecrow said absently, adjusting one of the chancellor’s gears.
“See?” Glinda said to me, beaming. “I told you. It’s obvious. Now, are you ready to do your part for Oz—and for Dorothy?”
The Scarecrow turned away from the chancellor, his face alight. “Get him on the table,” he said. I made as if to climb on the table myself, but an invisible hand grabbed me and carried me through the air, dumping me unceremoniously on my back. I looked up at the single overhead light that shone down on my chest. “Will this hurt?” I asked.
“You won’t feel a thing,” the Scarecrow said, looming over me. He held a set of tin snips in one hand and a mysterious, multipronged metal tool in the other. I took a deep breath as he began to cut through my chest, peeling back a metal plate about the size of a fist. He was right; I didn’t feel anything. Glinda peered down at me, her smile unwavering. There was something almost menacing about the way she was looking at me, but I reminded myself I was doing this for Dorothy.
The Scarecrow lowered his tool into the cavity of my chest and I felt its prongs close around my heart. I gasped in surprise, but Glinda was already moving her hands through the air, summoning that now-familiar glowing red material that filled the room as though we were inside an aquarium. It coalesced into a mass that hovered over me, pulsing with its eerie light, and as I gazed up into it the glow started to look exactly like a miniature thunderstorm. Red lightning flashed, and thunder boomed through the room. The clouds began to swirl faster and faster, forming a whirlpool that stretched downward into the long funnel of a cyclone. The cyclone’s spout reached lower and lower until it touched the metal gadget that held my heart in place.
Energy coursed through me, sending red sparks shooting in all directions. Maybe I should have been afraid, but instead, I felt incredible—as though I held all of Oz in the palm of my hand. No wonder Dorothy was different, if she had power like this. I could control anything, do anything—and I was just a conduit for the power the Scarecrow was channeling into my heart. The little cloth heart floated upward, crackling with light as Glinda’s magic poured into it.
“That’s enough, I think,” Glinda said. Slowly, the cyclone of magic lowered the heart back into my chest. When it was in place, the Scarecrow pulled away his tool and the red light faded, the magical storm dissipating in the dank air of his room. “See?” he said happily. “Piece of cake. Nothing to it. You’re a new man.” He grabbed a soldering iron off a shelf and briskly patched the hole he’d made in my chest. I sat up slowly, patting the p
atch. I could feel the difference in my heart. It was difficult to explain. Heavier, but also somehow more real.
“How do you feel?” Glinda asked, moving closer and putting one slender hand on my shoulder.
I looked down at my hands, at the needles and knives that had sprouted up where my fingers used to be. Suddenly they seemed exactly right. They were tools, that was all. Tools I would need in Dorothy’s Oz.
“I feel great,” I said, and she relaxed a little. Maybe they hadn’t been as certain as they’d seemed that the Scarecrow’s magic doohickey would work. But that didn’t matter now. It had worked, and I was different. Stronger. Braver. Even more ready to do whatever it took to defend Dorothy.
The Scarecrow smiled at me with satisfaction. A little too much satisfaction, if you asked me. How long had he been working in secret on these experiments? What else were he and Glinda keeping from Dorothy? But I was careful not to let my suspicions show. Two could play at that game, and now I had the Wizard’s new, improved heart up my sleeve. Or in my chest, as it were. I could feel it ticking away, radiating power.
“Bring in the remaining Winkies and prepare them for their transformation,” I said. Norbert looked up at me sadly with his one good eye.
“But sir,” he whispered. “This isn’t natural. What you’ve done to me—”
“I’ve had enough of you,” I snarled, striding toward him. “There’s no room for dissent in the new order. Scarecrow, I want the next batch more obedient.” With one swift, decisive move, I whipped out my hands and cut Norbert’s throat. Blood poured out over his chest as he slumped to the ground. “That one was defective,” I said. “Do better next time.”
The Scarecrow and Glinda looked at me, their expressions unreadable. “As you wish, Tin,” the Scarecrow said. “As you wish. Dorothy’s army will be the most perfect force I can create. Now go get me some soldiers.”
“By the time I’m done,” I said, “you’ll have every Munchkin in Oz for Dorothy’s army.” Their delighted laughter echoed behind me as I strode out into the hall.
There was no doubt about it. Dorothy’s Oz was going to be a very different Oz indeed.
NINE
After the Scarecrow patched me up, Glinda left us, saying she had business with Dorothy to attend to. The Scarecrow watched her go, sighing in admiration. “What a woman,” he said wistfully. “Do you think I have a chance?”
“No,” I said. “Let’s get to work.”
There were only a handful of Winkies left.
The Scarecrow brought out each of them in turn, pleading frantically for his or her life no matter how many times we explained we weren’t doing anything but improving them. “I don’t know why you couldn’t have gotten yourself appointed king of a people with more dignity,” he muttered. I ignored him.
We operated on six Winkies in total. All but two of them survived the process. The Scarecrow lined them up at the far end of his chambers as he finished, where they stood blinking and quiet, waiting to be summoned.
When we were done at last he cleaned the blood off his stuffed body with a rag. “Need to get an apron,” he remarked, dabbing at a tough stain. “This stuff is the devil to get out. You ready to show these fellows to Dorothy?”
I had been confident and sure of myself as we worked, but now that I faced the prospect of going before Dorothy again, I was flooded with doubt. What if she didn’t approve? What if the soldiers weren’t good enough? The Scarecrow was watching me sharply, and I was aware that my emotions must have been plain. I didn’t want to fail her again. I couldn’t bear it.
The Scarecrow ordered the Winkies to march, and they did so in eerie unison, moving their arms and legs as stiffly as robots and at the exact same time. We followed them out of his chambers. I flagged down a Munchkin servant, who eyed the Winkie soldiers with discomfort and told us Dorothy was taking the rays in her solarium. The Scarecrow let me direct the soldiers down the hall. They responded to my commands with the same mindless, automated precision they had to his, and I was reassured by their obedience. How could Dorothy not be pleased?
My beloved was reclining on a luxurious couch in her solarium, dressed in a long, soft robe and holding out one hand to a servant, who was painting her nails. Another girl behind the couch was brushing her hair. She still wore her glittering heels, and they glowed with an atomic-red light that called up in me an answering flare of clockwork emotion. A little black ball was curled up at Dorothy’s feet, and I belatedly recognized it as Toto. He jumped to his feet, barking excitedly, and raced to meet us, running around our feet in yapping circles. I stooped to scratch awkwardly behind his ears with my knives.
Dorothy looked up as we came in, her perfect face drawn into a scowl. “What on earth are you doing here? I didn’t send for you.” Her eyes widened when she saw the soldiers. “And what on earth are those? Woodman, I told you I never wanted to see those filthy Winkies again. What’s wrong with their arms?”
I sank down to one knee before her, but her expression didn’t change. “Dearest Dorothy,” I began, “you must understand, your safety is of our utmost concern. We’ve been working to perfect an army for you, as I promised.”
Dorothy’s scowl deepened. “I told you I wanted a real army, Tin, not this—this petting zoo.”
The Scarecrow stepped forward, interrupting smoothly. “Ah, Dorothy, of course. And that’s why the Woodman and I have worked day and night to create a new kind of soldier for you. Take a closer look, Your Eminence.”
The scowl lessened a little, and she stood up, sending the nail polish jar flying. The servant girl scurried after it frantically. She walked toward the mechanized Winkies, Toto racing back and forth between us, and studied them carefully.
“The Woodman will demonstrate their commands,” the Scarecrow prompted. I scrambled to my feet and ordered the Winkies to march around the room, and then to execute several coordinated maneuvers. Dorothy watched them with astonishment, clapping her hands in delight as they pivoted back and forth in front of her.
“But this is wonderful!” she cried. “You thought of this?” I began to answer, and then realized she was speaking to the Scarecrow.
“I had some assistance,” he said modestly. I waited for him to mention the hours I’d spent helping him, but he said nothing.
“You’ve done wonderfully,” Dorothy said, flinging her arms around him in an embrace that should have been mine. The ticking of my new heart pulsed faster, and I was filled with fury. I was the one who’d brought the Winkies, I was the one who’d had the idea to build an army for Dorothy, and I was the one who loved her. How dare he usurp the gratitude that should have been mine?
Dorothy released the Scarecrow and turned to face me. “Thank goodness I have someone useful around me.” She sighed.
“But, Dorothy,” I said quickly, “he couldn’t have done it without my help—or my Winkies. And the army was my idea, not his.”
“Oh, Tin,” she said, patting me gently on the shoulder. Her touch was wonderful. “I know you try, I really do. But you keep failing me. How can I possibly count on you? You have no idea how stressful it is trying to run an entire kingdom. It’s practically giving me a migraine, and I can’t even find a servant who can give me a decent foot rub. Do you have any idea the pressure I’m under?”
“No, of course not,” I said humbly. I felt awful. How could I live with myself if I was only adding to her burdens?
“So you see my problem,” she continued. “I need to trust you, Tin. You say that you want to defend me, and that’s very noble of you. I really do appreciate it. But you keep making silly mistakes, and people like the Scarecrow have to clean up after you. I want to appoint you head of my defense team, but I can’t give you that kind of responsibility unless you prove yourself worthy.”
I fell to my knees, clutching her dress. “I’ll do anything!” I cried. “Anything at all!” At that moment, Glinda swept smoothly into the room, her eyes full of concern.
“Dorothy, what on earth a
re you going on about? I can hear you all the way down the hall,” she said, looking from me to Dorothy to where the Scarecrow surveyed us, gloating. Then she saw the Winkies. “Oh,” she breathed, “what excellent work! Scarecrow and Woodman, you’ve outdone yourselves. They’re perfect protectors for the new ruler of Oz.”
Dorothy’s mouth snapped shut, and she looked at me in surprise. “You helped?”
“Yes, Dorothy,” I said quietly.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked impatiently. “Honestly, Tin, I don’t know what to do with you sometimes. Where are the rest of them?”
“The rest of them?”
“Well, this is hardly what I’d call an army,” she said, her voice cooling noticeably. “Surely there are more?”
“Dorothy,” the Scarecrow said, “we’ve only just begun. You have to give us time.”
“Hurry up, then,” she said. “I haven’t got all day. Just imagine what it will be like when I have an army of my very own!” She twirled around the room like a little girl, and my heart soared. I wanted to do what I could so that she’d always be this happy. And once she was happy, she’d really, truly be mine. I wasn’t going to fail her again. I knew what I had to do.
“I will build you an army, Dorothy,” I said. “I’ll build you an army the likes of which Oz has never seen. No one will harm you, or even dare to try.”
Dorothy stopped her dance and threw her arms open wide. “If only Aunt Em and Uncle Henry could see me now!” she cried. Behind her, Glinda was smiling, although the smile didn’t reach her eyes. The Winkies were frozen at attention, their grotesque metallic hands to their foreheads in matching salutes. The Scarecrow was snickering next to me, and Toto yapped and ran around the room. Inside my chest, my new heart swelled with such joy that I thought it might burst out of its patchwork housing, and I could almost see the pulsing glow that matched the flaring red of Dorothy’s shoes like a beacon shooting out from my chest. I turned to the Scarecrow.
dorothy must die 00.4 - heart of tin Page 7
