At last, he could ask about the necklace without arousing her suspicions. “What is this necklace?”
“No one really knows. It’s much older than the Wizard, of course, and how he came by it—well, I’m just not sure. It’s possible it’s from the Other Place, and he used its power to get here somehow. But now it’s bound up in the Deep Magic of Oz, and it will always try to go home.”
“To the Emerald City?”
“Exactly. Its magic is incredibly strong, but no one really knows what it’s for.”
Glinda does, the Lion thought, remembering her eager face as she showed him the vision of the ruby necklace. She knew, and she had a plan for it. Of that he had no doubt.
“Everyone thought the necklace was lost when the Wizard disappeared,” Ozma continued. “It’s possible he had it with him when he left Oz in his hot air balloon, and somehow lost it over the Land of Ev. I don’t know how else the Nome King could have gotten hold of it. He was probably using it to guide his tunneling to the Emerald City. That would explain how he was able to get so close so quickly.”
She fell into a thoughtful silence. The necklace seemed to throb slightly against his chest, as if it knew they were talking about it. But that wasn’t possible. It was just a bunch of gold and rubies; even magic objects couldn’t eavesdrop on people’s conversations. Could they?
Ozma roused herself. “The Darklands is too risky,” she said decidedly. “It’ll take much longer, of course, but we’ll have to go back the way we came.”
The Lion almost groaned aloud. He was so tired, and the thought of the return journey was almost unbearable. Still, a risky magical journey through a place he’d never heard of where a ruby necklace was his only link to safety sounded even worse. He stood and stretched. Ozma rested one hand on his back. “Are you ready?”
He nodded agreement, and Ozma raised her other hand. The cavern wall in front of them began to glow again. But this time, the lines of Ozma’s magic ran in feeble rivulets down the wall, refusing to form a door. “Being turned into a statue really wore me out,” she gasped. “We’re going to have to do this the hard way.” Without waiting for his reply, she grabbed his mane and dragged him toward the wall. He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say a word they were plowing into solid stone. And it hurt. Somehow, Ozma was dragging them both through the wall. It was like forcing his way through liquid concrete. Stone filled his ears and mouth, and for a long moment he thought he’d be stuck there, trapped inside the wall forever. But with one last, insistent tug, Ozma pulled him through to the other side. They collapsed on the tunnel floor.
“Sorry about that,” Ozma wheezed. “Close call. It’s a good thing I didn’t have to actually fight the Nome King.”
The journey back up through the tunnels to the Emerald Palace seemed to take even longer than the journey down. Both the Lion and Ozma were exhausted, but neither of them wanted to rest in the creepy, dark warren of tunnels. Ozma was so tired that several times she lost the way, and they had to backtrack. But finally the steep upward slant of the tunnel floor evened out, and the side tunnels came to an end. The Lion was so relieved to see the first of the torches that marked the corridor down from the Emerald Palace that he nearly cheered aloud, and Ozma perked up visibly.
“Not sure I’ve got much more in me,” she panted. “I’m glad we’re almost home.”
It was odd seeing her weakened like this. And even more than that, hearing her admit it. He had never once seen Glinda drained of her power. He himself had never let his guard down in front of his subjects, or even Cornelius. Ozma shared her vulnerability with him freely. He felt honored and at the same time, he wanted to warn her that it wasn’t the best idea. Someone else, someone other than himself, could pounce when you show your soft underbelly.