A spontaneous cheer rose up from the happy crowd at her words, and the full impact of what I was witnessing hit me. For now, anyway, Oz was free. Dorothy was gone. We’d done it. All that fighting, all that loss and sacrifice—I’d never actually thought we would win. Without thinking, I reached for Nox’s hand. He looked at me, surprised, and then squeezed mine back. I put my head on his shoulder. He was just the right height for us to fit perfectly together. After a minute, he put his arm around me, and I relaxed into the warmth of his body, closing my eyes as Ozma’s words washed over us.
“As many of you know,” she continued, “we owe much of this victory to a very special warrior who has risked much to help us, though when she began this fight she was not even one of us. She believed in the freedom of Oz, even though it was not her world. She has shown extraordinary courage in the face of great danger, and she was the one who set me free from the prison of my own mind.” Nox elbowed me in the ribs and my eyes flew open. Everyone in the tent was looking at me.
“Amy Gumm,” Ozma said in that beautiful, rich voice. “We owe you our lives and our freedom. We will never be able to repay our debt to you, but you will always have a home among us.” And then, to my total astonishment, she moved through the crowd until she was standing right before me, and went down on her knee. After a second, everyone else knelt, too. To me. Like I was a queen. To my absolute horror, Nox knelt, too. I had no idea what to do or say. I wasn’t a ruler. I was just a teenager from a trailer park in Kansas.
“I can’t—” I stammered frantically. “I mean I didn’t—I didn’t do anything special. Anyone in my place would have done what I did.”
Ozma remained kneeling for what felt like a million years but was probably just a few seconds, and then she stood with that same effortless grace and held out her hands to me. “Stand beside me, dear Amy,” she said. “It would be an honor to be crowned at your side. I owe this—all of this—to you.” The crowd around me, also rising to its feet, parted wordlessly. I stood frozen to the ground in terror until Nox gave me a gentle shove.
“Dorothy was way scarier than this,” he whispered. “You’re fine.”
“Easy for you to say,” I muttered under my breath, but I stepped forward. I was glad I’d gone with the dress after all, now that what seemed like every eye in Oz was on me. My heart was pounding so hard I almost laughed at myself. Nox was right; I’d faced down Dorothy, but couldn’t handle an appreciative audience?
Ozma beamed at me as I joined her at her side. She took my hand in one of hers, and gestured to Lulu with the other. The little monkey should have looked ridiculous in her bedazzled dress, which was over the top even for her. But instead she looked perfect. Sort of like a really dignified chandelier, but in a good way. She was weeping openly as she slowly carried the crown toward us.
When she reached us, Ozma curtsied deeply, dipping her head low enough for Lulu to set the crown on her dark hair. Everyone around us breathed out a sigh of combined relief and awe.
“At last, our queen is returned to us,” Lulu proclaimed, holding Ozma’s hand aloft as they turned to face the crowd. There was a brief second of complete stillness, and then the pavilion erupted. Everyone was hugging and shrieking and clapping and cheering. Munchkins jumped up and down, waving their arms. Winkies high-fived each other. Even Gert and Mombi were hugging and dancing around like little kids. Nox ran up to me, picked me up off my feet, and twirled me around while I giggled with delight. Lulu had her arms wrapped around Ozma’s midsection and was sobbing noisily. Only Ozma remained calm and collected, smiling down at Lulu and at all the other citizens of Oz who tried to touch her dress or embrace her.
Finally, the mayhem died down enough for Ozma to call out, “And now we feast!” Another enormous cheer erupted from the crowd, and everyone surged toward the banquet.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Nox and I were swept up in the tide of people and carried along with them to where long tables had been set up. Sunfruit hung in the air, casting a warm, gentle light over the piles and piles of food.
Nobody had to be told twice to eat, including me. Ozma had decided on an informal party, given the circumstances—no servants, no seats, just banquet tables piled high with food and heaps of cushions and bright woven carpets scattered around the floors of the tent city. Most people elected to take their food outside, finding spots in the grass or under the trees. But I noticed as I filled my plate that people were getting out of my way, or even bowing to me. It was a strange feeling, one I didn’t really like. I tried to make myself as unobtrusive as possible as I carried my plate outside and found a place far from the crowd.
That was when Nox found me. At last, we’d gotten away from the rest of the Quadrant. For how long, I didn’t know.
“You don’t have to tell me,” he said in a low voice. “I know. There’s something wrong, but I can’t figure out what it is.”
I set my plate in the grass, my appetite gone. “I have to find a way to get back to Kansas,” I said. “If the Nome King has my mom . . .”
“The Quadrant will try and stop you. And I don’t know if I can stop them.”
“Because you’re bound to them?”
He nodded. “I can try to undo the spell that binds us together, but I might not be strong enough to do it on my own.”