by Tarl Telford
"So this is it?" the Soldier with Green Whiskers asked.
"No, but this is the path to it. We'll get there. Come on."
They pushed through the cobwebs and fallen litter from the living city above. Wickrie-Kells' eyes danced with excitement. "The entire history on the walls." She teased.
Then they were there. This was it--a massive auditorium beneath the city, with walls filled with mosaics and paintings. The auditorium had been home to some of the greatest performances in history. Omby-Amby had heard of the Battle of Named Shovels. The reenactment used ten thousand men and a clever system of tunnels created in mounts of transported earth. That vast set had recreated the battle in the caverns. Then there was the Opera of Vanity, dedicated to the memory of King Oz, the Fourth, who planted the sprawling Gardens of Wonder in the middle of the wilderness. The Lists of Boetra, the Congress of Phaladoon, the Disappointment Opera that magnified the sounds of the chariots as they raced through the corridors. Fae Imaginarium and the Rainbow Mist. They had all been performed here.
The auditorium was spoken of today like an old tomb. It was dead and gone, one of the wonders of Old Oz. Yet here it was, buried under countless centuries of decay. How many other legends were likewise buried?
The light from the distant windows far above did little to light the furthest corners in shadow. Wickrie-Kells followed a sunbeam down to its resting place on an emerald and sapphire-colored mosaic. "It's the Twisted Lighthouse. I remember seeing this design as a little girl, but I didn't know what it was until I met Glinda and we went south. If you follow the progression around the wall, you'll see the Grand Tower was copied after the Twisted Lighthouse--except King Oz, the Fifth didn't want the twist in it. He wanted everything straight. It was intended to be a beacon to all of the lands to come to the center of the land--Central City--just like the Twisted Lighthouse was a beacon to all lands across the seas to come to Oz--the central land. I love the blue. I imagine that is what the sea looks like."
"If there is a sea within reach, I will carry you there." Omby-Amby promised.
Wickrie rested a hand on his muscular arm. "I know you would. The deserts block our path. Until the seas are healed, Oz is cut off from the world."
"Glinda and Oscar can fix it. They can heal the seas." Omby declared. They have magic, and Glinda is brilliant. Between the two of them--Oscar's dreams and all--I don't think there's anything they can't do."
"If they get back together."
"They will. Oscar is mad for her. And Glinda..."
"Is busy. Constantly busy." Wickrie-Kells finished.
She found the object of her search--a broken mirror. She removed it from beneath the collapsed table and propped it up in the sunbeam. "My father set this up years ago. We always hide the mirror when we leave. There is no telling who comes down here. I like for this to be my secret that I share with my father, and now I am sharing it with you."
She angled the mirror to reflect the sunbeam against the mosaic of the Twisted Lighthouse. The shimmering tiles reflected the light across the room, which reflected again and again until the whole room was lit with a pale ambience.
Omby's jaw dropped open as he looked around and up. Everywhere were mosaics and paintings. He trusted the girl's word that it was the entire history of Oz. From where he stood, it certainly looked that way. He recognized buildings from his travels with Oscar. "There's South Castle--Glinda's Palace. There is Grimmpill Graveyard. And there...is that Emerald City?"
Omby quickly crossed the broad room, jumping over tables and chairs. He walked around a fallen crystal chandelier, carefully avoiding the fractured crystals on the floor. No use breaking another chandelier. When he arrived at the far wall, he held his hands with thumb and forefinger in L-shapes to frame the image. "It looks like Emerald City."
Wickrie-Kells was only a few steps behind him. She removed the bow from her back so she could scrape away some of the dust above the art. "I think there's some writing up here. It's older Ozzian script. My father taught me to read some of it."
"Here, let me." The taller young man snatched Wickrie's bow from her hands and reached up higher to scrape away the dust and accumulated grime.
Wickrie frowned at the incursion into her space, but she let him help. He could reach higher, even though there were no words up there.
"There. All clear. What does it say?"
Wickrie-Kells stepped back and looked at the gold writing. The light was dimming quickly. She slowly sounded out the unfamiliar words. "Smaragaid Cathair."
"What does it mean?"
"City of Emeralds. I'm reading the script right beside it. I never noticed it before."
"I don't see it."
"Of course not, silly. You have to stand back here."
Omby moved backwards to stand next to Wickrie. "Where is it?"
Wickrie took back her bow and pointed. Omby leaned in close to follow her arm. He put his arm around her waist. She smiled as he pressed against her. "Do you see it?"
"Still looking."
"Keep looking as long as you want."
Omby shook his head slowly. He didn't see it. He stood and furrowed his brow.
"It's right there! See, it reads, 'Smaragaid Cathair was built around the Emerald Fortress and completed in the reign of King Oz, the Third. In the Fairy tongue, the city is called Parradime.' It says it right there. You must be blind if you can't see it."
"Blinded by your radiance."
"Good excuse. It's right there."
Wickrie-Kells looked closer at the walls. Writing appeared everywhere. In some places it was scrawled over the mosaics and art. In other cases it was in-between the art. She followed it around the wall. "There is more writing."
"Sure there is." The soldier mumbled. He moved to follow after the girl, but something drew his attention. His ears perked up and he looked around. He signaled to Wickrie to be quiet, but she was too busy reading to herself on the walls of invisible writing.
Laughter echoed from one, two, then three joining corridors. All around the room it echoed and grew.
Omby's sword was in his hand as he quickly stepped toward Wickrie-Kells.
"Well, well, well. The green-haired demon and his fair maiden. Trespassers. You don't belong in Central City, especially in the lower levels. These are the king's rules. He left us to our own particular idiom to deal with trespassers."
"That doesn't even make any sense." Omby-Amby protested, searching the several corridors for the source of the voice.
"You don't see me, do you, green soldier? Perhaps you saw more clearly in the sunlight on Emerald Prairie? Two years ago? One soldier put the entire Emerald Army to flight."
The green-whiskered soldier rubbed a hand over his chin, searching and thinking. He flexed his other hand on the hilt of his sword. "If it's a fight you want, I'm here. Face me, man to man."
"Oh, no." The voice chuckled. "One soldier who drove away the whole army? You don't fight man to man. You fight against one, you fight against all."
From all around the auditorium, green-uniformed soldiers emerged. There were at least fifteen of them. They all moved toward Omby-Amby.
"Wickrie, this could get ugly. I'm coming to you."
The girl calmly strung her bow and nocked an arrow. The emerald soldier's voice sounded familiar, like a voice from the past. "Bartleby O'Brine, is that you?" Wickrie-Kells called out. "You haven't grown any taller."
"Enough from you! Daughter of the has-been butler. Your father was a traitor."
"And you are still short. Tell me," she called out, "are you tall enough to kiss my elbow yet?" She pulled the bowstring taut.
"I am not going to fall for that one again. You knocked out two of my teeth before. I warn you, as an emissary of his royal eminence--"
"That's a lot of em's right there." Omby-Amby noticed.
They could hear the man's face getting redder by the second. "An assault on any one of us is an assault on the king. It will be treated as a declaration of war."
"I truly doubt that." Wickrie snarled.
Omby glanced backward over his shoulder. "No, technically, that is true. No killing any of them."
"Fine." Wickrie-Kells sighted a new target and let her arrow fly. The sound of glass shattering reached their ears just after the darkness collapsed all around them. The arrow hit the distant reflecting mirror, eliminating the ambient sunlight from the large chamber. In the absence of light, there was confusion.
"It's dark." One of the soldiers cried out.
"We're underground, of course it's dark." Bartleby grumped. "Now get them. They are the trespassers. We are obliged to treat them with incivility."
"Doesn't the declaration of war go both ways?" Wickrie-Kells asked Omby-Amby as they rushed toward the soldiers blocking the exit.
"No. 'Fraid not. We are unquestionably in a place we're not supposed to be."
"But my family lives here."
"Your family are traitors!" Bartleby snarled.
And then they were in the middle of the soldiers. Omby-Amby punched and whirled, blocking attacks with his sword. He only struck the emerald soldiers with the flat of his blade.
"Wickrie, stay behind me. We've got to get out of here without killing any of them."
"Yes, I know. I'm right here." Wickrie swung her bow, cracking a soldier in the head and knocking him down.
"Follow my lead." Omby ordered. "To the left."
"I'm going right." Wickrie flipped her bow up over a soldier's head and snapped the bowstring in his face. The man screamed as he fell to his knees.
"I'll get us out of this!" Omby shouted.
Wickrie-Kells stepped back and let the Soldier with Green Whiskers pummel his way out of the crowd. He was a good fighter--better than all of the other soldiers there, though it was anybody's guess how well any of them would do in the dark with unfamiliar footing. Omby-Amby stumbled, and the other soldiers jumped on him.
Wickrie pulled an arrow from her quiver and stabbed two of the soldiers in their backsides. The hollered and jumped away. Wickrie-Kells disappeared backwards into the deepening shadows.
Omby fought his way to his feet, shoving the soldiers down to the ground. "Wickrie!"
"I'm over here." The girl called. "Follow my voice to the Twisted Lighthouse." She worked her way to the wall and reached out her hand as she heard Omby's footsteps getting closer.
"The king will hear of this!" Bartleby cried. A heavy, fist-sized chunk hit the wall next to them, knocking loose some tiles. Then projectiles landed all around them.
"My arrow." Wickrie reached toward the mirror.
"Out. I'll make you a new one." Omby pulled the girl toward the door.
Wickrie's amber eyes saw new writing beneath the Twisted Lighthouse image. "The blood of Oz does not flow to the sea."
Omby-Amby and Wickrie-Kells raced down the dim corridor. They headed back the way they came, until Wickrie pulled them into a side passage. "This way. It will let us out near the top of the Honeycomb."
"I thought it was catacombs." Omby said.
"The catacombs are deeper. The Honeycomb is built on top of the past."
They climbed up the stairs and followed more passages. Omby followed where Wickrie led. Soon they were back in the fading evening light. They emerged from a forgotten door on the dark side of the Honeycomb--a massively crowded collection of dwellings built together on top of previous dwellings. The inner mysteries of the Honeycomb were lost in the generations, but Wickrie-Kells and her family knew enough secrets from forgotten people to learn several handfuls of mysteries.
Omby-Amby did his best to put the broken door back in place. But they didn't have time to make it perfect. Wickrie-Kells pulled him down the balcony and across the terrace. They ran away from the setting sun, getting clear of the city and avoiding all guards.
Finally they made it out to the edge of the valley. Omby-Amby looked back with his soldier's eyes. "They almost had us."
"Would it really be war?" Wickrie asked.
"It depends on the mood of the king, and if the soldiers really have his ear."
"As far as I am concerned, they can bring their war. The strength of an army comes from the heart. Numbers don't matter if a soldier has the heart, like you."
"I had to protect you."
"Yes." Wickrie-Kells averted her amber eyes and looked back toward the city of her birth.
"They will be looking for us. We should go."
"Back to Emerald City?"
Omby-Amby shook his head. "There is more I want to see before I go back into those thick walls. I need to see my home. I need to see Yellow Castle again."
"You know what Glinda said--any violation of the ruler's sanctum is a declaration of war." Wickrie said.
"So war with Central City you say, 'Bring the fight', but with the Winkies, you have cold feet? What kind of soldier are you?"
"One who loves you. I know you miss your homeland. It's not like me--I can go home any time. Well, now, maybe not. But you, you are a stranger, and your land is under control of the Wicked Witch. I just don't want you to do anything that you, me, or anyone else will regret."
Omby smiled. "Don't worry. I'm not Glinda...or Oscar. They have magic to get them out of trouble. I've only got my sword and my mind."
"And your strong right hand." Wickrie-Kells squeezed Omby's right hand. "That's me."
"That's you."
"If you won't cross the border--if we can see it from far away, I will allow it."
"I don't need to go inside. Truthfully. I just need to see it--I need to see that the Yellow Castle is still standing--to see that my people are still alive and working. I can see that from a distance. The bluffs are high. We can stay hidden."
Wickrie-Kells squeezed his hand again. "West it is. Lead the way, soldier."
* * * * *
Far away, Kally guided Oscar to an old road in the forest where the Hamstrambulator could drive more freely. They drove several hours under the trees before they broke free to see the sun again.
"There is Mount Munch." Kally said.
The mountain rose out of the forest, bare on one side. Oscar asked why.
"A war, a long time ago, pitted a sorcerer against a family of witches. To protect the land, and the heritage of the Munchkins from the domination of the Sorcerer and his vengeful allies, they created a weapon. It drove the enemies from the land, but it burned the mountain down to the stone--on that side. The people were safe, and the pollution was driven from the land."
"What pollution?"
"The Munchkins have always held their knowledge and their heritage as a great banner. They were brought here by the Fairies when Oz was new. Their strength...ah, their strength. They could be counted on when they were strong. None as strong as a Munchkin scorned. They crushed their unfit under their feet. Drove them out of the East."
"And that is a strength?"
"The Munchkins were unquestionably the masters of this land. They will be again."
"Remember liberty."
"Remember the pearl. It purchases freedom. It purchases an army that will allow the people to be truly free. They will not need to lift a finger to defend their land. Everything will be done for them. Can you put a price on that sense of security?"
"Apparently you can." Oscar breathed, furrowing his eyebrows as he stopped the Hamstrambulator and stepped down from the basket. He bent down to unhook the feet from the large wheel.
Kally stepped her feet three times and she was standing next to Oscar.
"Okay, let's get you down." Oscar turned back to the basket, but it was empty.
"How did you--?"
"I'm not one to wait. Let's go. Up."
Kally led their journey up the mountain. No path marked their way. The sun met them on the open rock face as they crossed the great scar of stone.
"How is the army going to come back down?"
"There is another way."
"An easier way?" Oscar asked, breathless.
"A more populated way."
&nbs
p; "Then why are we..."
"My family's treasure is important to protect. We are traveling the difficult path so that we are not seen."
"We're on the open side of a stone mountain. Anyone can see us."
"Few people live on this mountain."
In the distance, they heard the echoes of an axe chopping at a tree. From this distance, against the echoing stone, it was impossible to tell where the sound came from.
"You can see the edge of the land from here." Kally pointed. "There--a brown smudge where the green ends."
"It all ends right there?"
"The land ends. The Deadly Desert begins. We need to keep moving."
"If there is a quicker way, we should go that way."
"There is not."
Oscar grumbled in silence for several minutes until they came to a deep fissure in the stone, then his silent grumbling forced its way out. "I suppose you have some magic bridge in your pocket to get us across."
"No. I do not have a magic bridge in my pocket." Kally answered tersely.
"Maybe we can braid a rope from grasses that the invisible goats have not yet eaten."
Kally stopped and turned to face the grumbling Wizard. "Humor rarely solves problems, Wizard. This is the scar. There is an invisible bridge. I am surprised that you wizardly eyes do not see it. To cross the bridge you must close your eyes. It can be a little bit nauseating. Give me your hand. Close your eyes. Step with me--stop. The bridge is two steps to your left. One, two, there."
Kally lined up her steps to a flat spot on the other side of the chasm. "The charm on the bridge allows us to cross in three steps, but it has been known to cause vertigo. Keep your eyes closed and your teeth close together. Step with me now, one, two, three."
And they were across to the other side of the chasm.
Oscar fell to his knees. He clutched his head and gritted his teeth. "Magic bridge--I hate magic bridges. Why can't they build a real bridge of good stone? Real people cross real bridges, not this imaginary, invisible hocus-pocus. Pish-posh and humbug. Are we there yet?"
