There was something satisfying about finally being stronger than she was, more capable and more lethal. She’d terrorized me for so long, and while I’d forgiven her for the past, I didn’t mind showing off my new skills in the present.
“You’re really good at this,” she said when I feinted and jabbed, breaking through her defenses to land a light tap on her jaw that would’ve been a ferocious punch if I’d been in a real fight.
“Thanks,” I said.
“You never were before. This place has really changed you.”
“It does that.”
She sank down to the floor with her back against one wall and her legs stretched out in front of her. “We’re not getting home ever, are we?”
I sat down next to her and stared at my knees, not wanting to meet her eyes. I knew she’d see the truth all over my face. “We might get back.”
“Do you even want to go home, Amy? Now that you have this hot magical boyfriend, or whatever?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I said automatically, and Madison laughed.
“Whatever you say, Ames. He’s your something, though. You seem really happy.”
“As happy as I can be considering the circumstances,” I said.
“Yeah, well.” She picked at a loose pebble on the cavern floor. “You have stuff here. People. A history already. I don’t have anything. If we get through tonight, what happens next?”
There was no point in lying to her; she’d see right through me.
“I don’t know,” I said. “We find a way back to Oz, I guess.”
“And when that happens?” Madison persisted. “Like, I get that all of this is going to be hard, and we’re probably going to die, or whatever. I get that. But let’s say for the sake of argument we don’t. We make it through, Ozma wins, the Nome King goes away, Dorothy dies, everybody’s happy, blah blah blah. What about you and me, Ames? We take up, like, corncob farming?”
“The Scarecrow’s dead,” I said.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” I sighed and rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands. “I don’t know, Madison. We figure it out, I guess. I don’t even know how you buy a house in Oz. Or get a job. Or, like . . . any of the stuff that goes into a normal life. Nothing’s been normal since I got here.”
“In the books Dorothy just wishes herself home,” Madison said.
I looked down at Dorothy’s shoes. Madison didn’t know what they were. I’d never told her.
“She had her shoes,” I said. “She needed those.”
She followed my gaze and her eyes widened. “Your boots are those shoes? The ones that took her back to ? They’re real? You’ve had them this whole time and you didn’t even try and use them?”
“It’s not that—” But she had jumped to her feet and was staring at me, her eyes filling with tears.
“This whole time all I’ve talked about is how badly I want to go home, and you’ve had the way back all along and didn’t think to mention it? I get that you want to stay here forever with your hot little boyfriend, but did you think for a fucking second that maybe other people could use a free trip home? I have a kid, Amy. I have a life. And you hid this from me?”
“It doesn’t work like that!” I said desperately.
“How do you know? Have you even tried? Why don’t you give me the damn shoes if you want to stay here so badly?”
“Because I can’t. I can’t take them off, Madison. I can’t use magic unless I’m wearing them, and apparently it’s too dangerous for me to do magic here.”
“So you’re not going to help me?” She looked at me, her mouth twisting between fury and tears. “You’ve never really forgiven me, have you, Amy?”
“What are you talking about?” I cried. “High school? We are so far beyond that, Madison.” I thought that Madison and I had struck an understanding where we would not speak of all those years that she had tortured me. But she had dusted off Salvation Amy and brought her back out for us to deal with. And since she’d brought it up . . .
“Are we really doing this right now?”
She nodded. “I have apologized and apologized, but what Nox said about me ruining your life—”
“Madison, you were awful to me. My life at home was hell, and you made school, the one place that was my refuge from my mom and the trailer, hell, too. But when I got to Oz, there were bigger bitches in Oz than you ever were, and I have been fighting alongside them and against them for months now. I actually used my memories of you to make my magic work in the beginning. So I guess I should be thanking you.”
Madison’s face fell.
“I’m glad that you’re sorry. I’m glad that it still bothers you. Because if it didn’t, we couldn’t be anything. I can’t erase our past but I don’t live in it. I am not ruined. I’m just done with it. What you did to me . . . it’s a part of who we both are, and I carried it for a long time. But if you still carry it, that’s for you to deal with.”
I knew it wasn’t exactly what she wanted to hear, but I couldn’t lie to her, and I couldn’t absolve her—the girl I was at nine who had her birthday party all by herself with her mom wouldn’t let me.
“I get it, you’re a great person and I am an awful one—” she bit back defensively.
“No, I don’t get it. I never got it. I never understood why you hated me so much. Why me?” I could feel my face burning. And it was true. We were now friends, more or less. But since she’d brought it up, I had to ask.
She frowned. “I don’t know. It was almost like a game. You know how when you shoplift it isn’t about the junk you steal, it’s about seeing if you can get away with it. And after you’ve done it once, you do it again. I could get a whole cafeteria to call you a name, Amy. Or pretend you weren’t there. I kept waiting for someone to stop me, but no one ever did.”
Madison had spent years seeking out my weakest places and striking at them with words, but hearing this description from her about why she did it almost stung worse than any name she’d ever called me. “Madison, I wasn’t some pair of earrings you stole,” I said firmly.
“I know. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Amy. And I’m different now. I have a kid. I know I have to be a better person. The second I saw Dustin Jr. a switch went off. I looked at his little face and knew I had to be different. Better. Because I didn’t want him to have a mom like me. I know that doesn’t change what I did to you. But I do mean it.”
I looked at Madison for a long beat. “I believe you,” I said quietly.
“So will you help me, Amy? Will you help me get home?” she said, her tone pleading. There was a time I would have killed to have Madison Pendleton on her knees begging me for something. Today it was just another thing that hurt. “Please, Amy . . . you could just click your heels together and drop me off and be back here for your war or whatever. From what I can see, everyone here can take care of themselves. My kid can’t.”
“I am sorry, Madison. I can’t risk it. I can’t risk doing magic when we don’t know what will happen,” I said, and I meant it.