Yellow Brick War (Dorothy Must Die, #3)

“Funny, going behind our backs didn’t seem to bother you when you wiped out the memories of Oz’s queen and brought a tyrant to power,” Gert snapped.

Next to me, Nox tugged my shoulder. “We need to get back downstairs. If there’s an opportunity to rescue Ozma while they’re going back and forth, we have to take it.” I nodded, and Nox signaled to Melindra, Annabel, and a couple of other warriors. We began to creep stealthily toward the staircase. Mombi shook her head at us.

“Enough with this nonsense,” she said abruptly. “We join forces as a Quadrant and go down there to take her out. We hadn’t planned on it happening this soon, but we knew it was inevitable. East, West, North, South. We work as four. Nox, we need you.”

“No,” Glamora said. We all looked at her in surprise. Her blue eyes, eerie twins of Glinda’s, burned with a fierce, lightning-hot energy. “She’s my sister, and this is my fight.”

“My dear,” Gert said, “you can’t possibly mean to go up against her alone. She has an entire army at her disposal—and she nearly killed you the last time you fought.” Reflexively, Glamora touched her face where, long ago, she’d lifted the veil of glamour to show me the gruesome scar Glinda had carved into her cheek.

I’d fought next to Glamora. But I’d never seen her look the way she looked now. Powerful and fierce, yeah, but something else, too.

Elated. Hungry. Out for blood. I remembered back in the cave where I’d first met the Wicked, when Glamora had taught me the art of glamour. I’d wondered then if she was scarier than Glinda. Watching her now, I didn’t have any doubts at all.

“I have been waiting for this moment since the first time I faced her all those years ago,” Glamora said calmly. “I’ve been waiting to end her life, the way she would have ended mine if she’d had the chance. This is my chance to rid Oz of her evil, and this is my battle alone.” Calmly, she ran her hand along her face, wiping away all of the glamours she wore like makeup and revealing the gaping, half-moon scar that ran from her ear, down her cheekbone, and across her chin. It still looked as fresh as if she’d gotten it this morning.

I could tell Gert and Mombi wanted to protest, but they knew as well as I did that Glamora wouldn’t have hesitated to strike all of us down on the way to destroy her sister. The gleam in her eyes was almost unhinged, and the air around her shimmered like she was a pot of water about to boil.

“I do not see the wisdom of this course of action,” Mombi muttered, but Glamora ignored her.

“Wait here for me,” she said, and rose up into the air.

“She’s right,” Gert said. “This is her battle. Let her fight it, Mombi.”

“This is a terrible idea,” Mombi growled, shaking off Gert’s restraining hand. But like the rest of us, she hurried anxiously to the edge of the balcony, peering over it.

Even from the balcony I could see the tension in the line of Glinda’s shoulders. Despite her army, despite all her magic, it was clear that some part of her was afraid. Glamora had waited so long for this moment, carrying this hatred and desire for vengeance for years. I’d be afraid even if I had an army at my back, too.

No, I was afraid.

“There’s no use trying to stop her,” Gert said in a low voice. “But we need to come up with a backup plan—now. Dorothy will likely be on her way any minute. If Glinda found us here, she can’t be far behind.”

While Gert spoke, Glamora was floating regally toward her sister, and as she moved through the air her gown fell away, leaving her naked. It barely registered, because then she was shedding her skin, too, like a snake sheds its scales. Underneath it, her body was purple and glittering in the sun.

Instead of giving herself armor, Glamora had become the armor. Her hair, her skin, her limbs. All of her was now bright and faceted. She was now a living jewel. Everyone was speechless at the sight of it.

The only one who didn’t look shocked at the transformation was Glinda, who simply nodded in acknowledgment.

The two witches now circled each other in the air, Glamora a bright shadow of her sister’s form. Glinda’s usually sweet face was set in a mask of naked hatred made even more terrifying by the sickly sweet PermaSmile.

The air turned dark and thick, forming itself into a cloud that slowly took the shape of a huge serpent with its head rearing back to strike. Glinda flicked an arm upward and a spear of pink light struck Glamora’s serpent in the chest, dissolving it momentarily. Glamora brought her arm down, and the serpent re-formed, undulating around her in black coils. She snapped her wrist, and a bolt of pure power shot toward Glinda, who ducked at the last minute. Instinctively, I reached for my knife—and it materialized in my hand.

“Amy, what are you doing?” Nox hissed.

“If Glinda is distracted, we can rescue Ozma—and Pete, too,” I said, heading for the door.

“You can’t use magic!” Mombi barked.