“Dorothy is connected to you, Amy. To find that answer, you must look within yourself.”
I almost rolled my eyes, and then I remembered Lurline could read my thoughts.
She smiled again. “I have faith in you, Amy. You have done well. I will help you as much as I can. I will hear you when you call me. Be strong. There is more power aiding you than you know.”
She let go of my hands, and the world around me began to fade. As if I was switching between TV stations, Lurline’s world tuned out and Oz tuned back in. Nox’s outline, shadowy at first, solidified. There was a roaring noise in my ears that I soon realized was Dorothy’s storm. I was dripping wet. And Dorothy, still glowing with that terrifying red light and hovering off the ground with her arms outstretched, was screaming into the howling wind.
THIRTY-THREE
I could still see Dusty Acres through the swirling clouds; Dorothy’s magic was tearing up the earth as giant cracks spread across the landscape. A huge strip of ground peeled up and was sucked up into the maelstrom.
Nox was trying to distract her with fireball after fireball to no effect. “Welcome back,” he said grimly, dropping his hands in exhaustion. Another chunk of earth flew up through the rent in the floor and hit the ceiling of the cave with a thud, showering us with dirt and rocks. Dorothy cackled in delight. I grabbed Nox’s hand, calling on the power of my silver boots. Nox caught on immediately, slowly feeding his magic into mine. I leaned into our combined strength and opened myself up, deciding to just let the magic of the shoes flow through me.
I could somehow see through the dark water of Lurline’s pool to the other side, where Lurline waited. I could see the clock, suspended between Oz and her world, drawing her magic into itself and funneling it to Dorothy. I could see Kansas as Dorothy tore it apart. I could see Lulu, back at the Woodman’s palace, holding Ozma’s hand as they walked through the ruined gardens. Melindra, digging a grave for Annabel as tears rolled down her face. I could see my mom, holding Jake’s hand and crying. I could see Mombi, Gert, and Glamora, fighting desperately outside the Emerald Palace. Mombi was badly wounded, and Gert was pale with exhaustion. I knew instinctively that they couldn’t hold out for much longer. I could see the end of everything I cared about, everyone I loved.
And I could see Dorothy, connected to the clock with a thick line of magic that fed her more and more power, like a leech bloated on the blood of its unsuspecting victim. She was pulling all the magic out of Oz and into her own body. But it was too much for her. She hung suspended in the current, her skin beginning to smoke and blacken, her eyes wide in pain and fear, the red heels pulsing with awful red light. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, magic pouring out in a torrent of sparks. Any second now the power of Oz would tear her—and us—apart.
You know what to do. This time it was Lurline’s voice instead of the Nome King’s that I heard inside my head. And I did—I did know what to do.
Nox and I reached forward, moving as though our two bodies were combined into one. I felt Lurline’s magic surging through us, giving us strength. We took hold of the cord binding Dorothy to the Great Clock and I staggered backward as the full force of Oz’s magic lashed out at me. It was like trying to hold on to a lightning bolt. The diamonds on my boots glowed white-hot, anchoring me to the stone floor.
NOW, Lurline shouted, her voice echoing through my head and ringing out across the cavern. With all the strength we had, Nox and I yanked backward. The cord of magic snapped loose from Dorothy’s body, whipping around the cave. The clock pulsed with emerald-green light. And then, as if it could no longer contain its own power, it exploded into a shower of glittering fragments.
The shock wave rocked the cavern and sent Nox and me crashing to the floor. The window to Kansas shut with the sound of a thousand doors slamming. Dorothy fell to the ground with a sick thud and lay there unmoving.
“Now!” Nox gasped, doubled over in pain. “Do it now!” Without thinking, I reached for my knife and immediately felt its reassuring solidity in my hand. I sprinted past the pool to where Dorothy had fallen. Her body looked as though she’d been burned alive. Her flesh was charred and smoking. Her hair had been seared away on one side of her head and her eye had melted in its socket, running down the bubbling, raw meat of her cheek. I almost gagged.
And then she stirred. Incredibly, horribly, she was still alive. She groaned, her fingers twitching.
It was time for Dorothy to die. I raised the knife over my head.
THIRTY-FOUR