“That is correct,” I said.
“But I don’t want to go to the Emerald City,” he said. To my astonishment, several other Winkies nodded in agreement.
“But of course you want to go to the Emerald City,” I replied. “This is Dorothy we’re talking about. Dorothy Gale, who killed the wicked witches, who’s given everything for Oz. It’s our responsibility to keep her safe after everything she’s done for us.”
“Your responsibility, maybe,” the Winkie said. “Why should it be ours?”
“Because I am your king,” I said, but muttering had spread through the crowd, and now more Winkies were raising their hands to speak.
“I don’t know any Dorothy!” one of them shouted, and was shushed by her fellows, but more and more of them were grumbling. I raised my voice in an effort to speak over them.
“It is not a request!” I shouted. “It is an order! You will all be heroes! I demand it!”
“How do we even know this is true about Ozma?” snapped the original dissenter. “Ozma is a fairy! Maybe she just knows better than us what the magic of Oz should be used for!”
“Hear, hear!” someone else shouted. As more and more of them protested, my disbelief turned to anger. Here I was, offering them the opportunity of a lifetime, and they were worried about technicalities? I was their king! Even if they didn’t want to help Dorothy, as impossible as that was to believe, I was in charge, not some whining Winkie teenager.
“Silence!” I bellowed, but now they were ignoring me completely, and some of them were even heading for the palace gates as though to return home. How dare they? After everything I’d given up for them? Dorothy had killed the Wicked Witch of the West and freed the enslaved Winkies when she had first come to Oz. I’d been at her side, obviously, and in fact she wouldn’t have been able to defeat the witch without my help. Not at all. But her act of bravery had left the Winkies without a ruler, and so the Wizard had appointed me their king all those years ago. He didn’t ask me what I wanted. Nobody ever did, as a matter of fact. Not even Dorothy, if I was being completely honest. But I was like Dorothy. I cared more about the good of Oz than my own personal needs.
I had a perfectly good heart, one the Wizard had given me, and while it naturally belonged to Dorothy, all the years after she’d left Oz I’d assumed I would never see her again. But instead of doing the things other people did—falling in love, having adventures, seeing the world—I’d stayed here, in this backwater little palace. I could have gone anywhere, done anything. I could have found—well, I’d never have found a replacement for Dorothy, but maybe I could have found someone I’d love almost as much. I could have had a life. Instead, I’d given up everything for the Winkies, for these ungrateful, foolish, nasty little trolls.
At my side, Norbert cleared his throat, adjusting his pince-nez. “Well, sir,” he said quietly. “I suppose that will be all, then?”
“No,” I said. “That will not be all.” I could feel my outrage transforming into something bigger, and stronger, and meaner. A sudden breeze sprang up, bringing with it a tiny cyclone of pink strawberry-scented glitter, and for a moment I could almost see Glinda hovering above the Winkies’ heads and smiling at me. “I will lend you the power to control them, brave Woodman,” her voice whispered in my ear. “You will show them the glory and the might of Oz.” The glitter swirled around me, whirling around my arms and my hands. The metal of my fingers began to glow red-hot, as though I’d left them in a fire, and started to melt and change shape. To my astonishment my fingers began to transform before my very eyes. They sprouted long, thin needles and short-bladed knives, all sharp and wicked-looking. As soon as the transformation was complete, the metal cooled again, gleaming dangerously in the morning sun.
For just a moment, my heart pulsed with doubt. “But these are weapons,” I said out loud.
Glinda tsk-tsked in my ear. I turned around, expecting to see her, but there was no one there. “What we do, we do for the good of Oz, my noble friend,” she whispered. “What will Dorothy do if you cannot protect her? Who will she turn to, if you are not at her side? I will choose another protector, if you are not man enough for the task.”
Jealousy sparked up in me like a forest fire. There would be no question of Glinda’s choosing someone else! I would be at Dorothy’s side for always. I would show these filthy Winkies how powerful I was if they did not obey me out of duty.
“Stand where you are!” I snarled to the Winkies, who were by now pouring toward the palace gates. Something in my voice stopped them in their tracks. “Bring me the Winkies among you who have dared to defy me,” I said, and even to my own ears my voice was terrible. Glinda’s cyclone of magic darted over the crowd, dusting them with some kind of enchantment. As if in a trance the Winkies seized the traitors and dragged them toward my podium. Only the first Winkie who’d spoken, the one who’d said he didn’t want to go to the Emerald City, was trying to resist, struggling furiously and even biting at the arms of his captors. I would deal with him first. I gestured for them to bring him before me.
“This is my kingdom,” I said in a low voice that I knew was strong enough to carry to the far edges of the crowd. “I have allowed you to forget it. I will not make that mistake again.” I wrapped my fingers around his neck and looked up at the assembled crowd. “Tomorrow, we march to the Emerald City,” I said. “From now on, this is how I will deal with traitors.” The knives that had replaced my fingers cut into his flesh, and blood poured down his yellow fur and pooled at his dangling feet. He gurgled frantically as my fingers cut and cut, all the way to the bone. Red light blazed around me, the red of Dorothy’s shoes, pouring in through my open mouth and filling my entire body with a blinding, all-powerful rage. With a single gesture, I tore his head from his body and hurled it into the crowd, striking one of them square in the chest with a grisly smack. The Winkies stared at me, and I saw in grim satisfaction that their eyes were filled with utter horror and fear. Some of the Winkies were crying, but most of them were in such terrified shock that they just trembled where they stood and gaped up at me.
“I knew you were the right choice,” Glinda’s disembodied voice whispered next to me. “I knew you were brave enough, Woodman.” I looked down at my hands. They were still the strange new hands Glinda had given me. Covered in blood, they looked even more menacing. More evil, I thought, and then shook my head. No. This wasn’t evil. This was necessary. What we do, we do for the good of Oz. She had been right. This was a new time. I couldn’t back down. Dorothy needed me.
Almost without thinking, I moved toward the next traitor in line with my hands outstretched when Norbert gave a little cry. “What is it?” I snarled.
“Sir,” Norbert said desperately, “what are you doing? Why are you harming us? We’ll obey you, sir, we understand how important Dorothy’s army is now. Please don’t hurt anyone else.” I blinked and suddenly the red mist that had filled me poured out of my eyes and mouth, rising up into the clear blue sky and taking with it the intense rage that had possessed me. Glinda’s voice was gone. I looked around. There was blood everywhere. The headless body of a Winkie lay on the ground, and a line of Winkies crouched before me, shaking in terror.
“Did I—did I do that?” I asked Norbert, confused.
He looked at me in astonishment. “Yes sir,” he said quietly.
“Why?”
“I don’t know, sir. You said—you said you needed an army.”
The army! Of course. Dorothy’s army. I wasn’t entirely certain what had just happened, but if it meant I had an army to bring to my princess, it was surely for the best. I’d bring her an army, and then tell her how I truly felt at last. How could she say no, when she saw the evidence of my devotion?
“We march for the Emerald City at dawn,” I told the blood-spattered masses trembling at my feet. “Shirkers and deserters will be executed.” I turned my back on them and walked into the palace.
SEVEN
The Winkies who gathered again i
n the courtyard the next morning were a far cry from the nattering, cheerful crowd who had assembled the day before. Some of them, I was certain, hadn’t moved from their spots since I had executed the traitor in front of them the preceding morning. They were silent, their heads bowed, their pathetic possessions gathered on their backs or hastily stuffed into small carts they towed behind them. A flash of doubt ran through me. They didn’t look like an army, they looked like a few dozen refugees. None of them had weapons, let alone armor. None of them had ever fought a battle in their lives. But I shook my head, dismissing the thought. We would all rise to the occasion. Even the humblest among us. Dorothy needed them almost as much as she needed me if she was to be safe in the Emerald City. I would turn them into an army if it was the last thing I did.
It took my ramshackle army a long time to find the Road of Yellow Brick, and when we did finally find it the bricks looked old and crumbly and were stained with a faint red hue—not the color of Dorothy’s shoes, but the color of blood. I remembered my vision in the palace the morning Dorothy had met with us and told us that Ozma had betrayed the country. I remembered the way Glinda had looked at me. Had she known what I would have to do? Had she been trying to warn me? I frowned, unwilling to allow any more uncomfortable thoughts. I wasn’t proud of what I’d done, but it had been necessary. There’d be no reason to have to do anything like it again. I avoided looking at my inexplicably transformed hands. Maybe Dorothy could help me change them back to the way they’d been before. After all, she was the one with magic.
The Road of Yellow Brick led us miles out of the way, almost as if it were trying to keep us away from the Emerald City. We walked for a long time through the Forest of Fear, the trees shrieking terrifying things at the Winkies, who flinched and wept and then, looking back at me fearfully, trudged onward. Some of them stuffed up their ears with cloth. Others held hands. I let their cowardice slide. There would be plenty of time for discipline once we reached the city. I wasn’t a monster.
Finally, after hours of doubling back and leading us astray, the road seemed to realize it couldn’t stop me from reaching the palace and straightened itself out. The bricks grew solid and polished again, and the hedges lining the road were neatly trimmed and bursting with flowers that periodically caroled us in trilling, high-pitched voices as we passed. The Winkies were still subdued, but their mood seemed to improve a little, and some of them perked up enough to look around them as we walked. A few of them dug cheese-and-marmalade sandwiches out of their bags—the Winkies were fanatical about cheese-and-marmalade sandwiches for some reason, and I had never known one of my subjects to travel anywhere without a ready supply—and munched as we marched. At last, I could see the green spires of the Emerald City on the horizon.
By now, several of the Winkies were stumbling with exhaustion. I did not allow them to rest. They’d have to learn to toughen up. The sun was on the horizon as we marched at last through the Emerald City’s broad gates. One of the Winkies collapsed, only to be hastily pulled to his feet by the others and propped upright. I selected a small delegation of the most alert-looking Winkies and called for Munchkin servants.
“Give them chambers in the palace,” I said curtly. “And see that they’re fed. I’ll be back for the rest of them later.” The Winkies I had chosen to accompany me, among them the chancellor, watched longingly as the others were led away to rest.
“You’ve served me well today,” I told them. “You will be rewarded in the princess’s army, never fear.” They did not seem very interested in the prospect of their reward but they did not protest as I led them into the palace and sent another servant to tell Dorothy to meet me in the Council Chamber.
She kept us waiting for a long time. One of the Winkies had pillowed his arms on the table and fallen asleep by the time she swept into the room, her auburn hair done in an intricate updo and her dress a slightly different version of the shimmery gingham she’d worn to tell us of her plans. I leapt to my feet when she entered the room, bowing deeply and surreptitiously kicking the chair of the Winkie who’d fallen asleep. He leapt to his feet, too, with a yelp of fear and stood looking around him, blinking frantically.
“My dear Woodman,” Dorothy said. Was that a hint of irritation in her voice? “Why on earth have you disturbed me? You know how busy I am now.”
“I have important news,” I said, my heart flooding with joy just to look upon her beautiful face. I reached forward to take her hand, but then remembered my new fingers. I did not wish to hurt her.
She ignored the gesture and looked at me with impatience. Suddenly I was overcome with doubt. Why wasn’t she happier to see me? “Well? What is it?”
“Princess Dorothy,” I said, going down on one knee before her. “You know your safety is my utmost concern, and your new position puts you at terrible risk.”
“Well, yes, that’s true,” she agreed, fluffing her reddish-brown curls. “Glinda says I must pay careful attention. I think it’s sort of exciting, don’t you? Nobody in Kansas was smart enough to understand how special I am. But here—well, look how far I’ve come!”
“I will remain at your side always, your knight and your protector,” I said. My heart pulsed again with that eerie power. “But a bodyguard is not enough, not even one as devoted as I. My beloved princess, I have brought you an army the likes of which Oz has never seen.”
Dorothy’s eyes widened and she gasped in delight. “An army? Oh, Tin! You’re incredible! I’ve never even dreamed of having an army before! Is it very splendid? Do they have horses and banners? Where are they? I want to see them right now!”
I rose to my feet and took her arm, indicating the Winkies with a sweeping gesture. “These are your generals. Your army awaits you in the palace.”
Dorothy stared at the trembling Winkies with confusion, her eyebrows knitting together. “But, Tin—I don’t understand. These are Winkies.”
“As are all your soldiers,” I explained. “For now,” I added hastily. “Of course, I’ll soon have more recruits. Perhaps the Lion knows a few beasts who would be willing to serve. I’ll oversee their training. Soon you’ll have a fearsome force to defend you.”
A flurry of emotions crossed Dorothy’s face. She was overcome, I realized. Overcome by what I’d done for her. By the lengths I’d gone to. She was so overwhelmed she didn’t even know what to say. I was so happy to see her delight that it took me a moment to understand that she was laughing not from joy, but from exasperation.
“Tin,” she said. “This is really sweet of you, but they’re Winkies. That’s like having an army of stuffed animals. I really wish you hadn’t bothered me with this—Glinda and I were having the nicest time going through nail polishes.”
“But, Dorothy,” I said in consternation. “You must understand, Oz has never had soldiers—”
“Tin, just get rid of them,” she interrupted. “They’re a bunch of furry midgets terrified of their own shadows. Look at them.” The Winkies, it was true, were staring at us in alarm, and the chancellor might have actually been crying. I was about to answer when the Scarecrow came into the room, drawn by Dorothy’s raised voice.
“Well, well, well,” he remarked, taking in the scene. “What exactly do we have here?”
“The Woodman has lost his mind.” Dorothy giggled. “He’s brought me these creatures and says they’re going to be an army.”
“An army?” the Scarecrow said, and looked at me thoughtfully. “But that’s not a bad idea at all, Doro—er, Your Eminence.”
Your Eminence? I thought, reeling. Since when was Dorothy Her Eminence, other than in my heart? And why couldn’t she see the nobility of my gift? None of this was going as I had planned, none of it at all. I looked around the room desperately, as though the answer was under one of the Winkies.
“I don’t want an army of vermin,” Dorothy snapped, and the Scarecrow raised one painted eyebrow. “Wasn’t it enough to have to toil in servitude with these dreadful creatures under the Wicked Witch of t
he West the first time I came to Oz? There’s a reason I didn’t go back after I killed that old cow.”
And then my error hit me. Of course. How could I have been so stupid? The Winkies could only remind Dorothy of that terrible time in the Wicked Witch of the West’s palace, before Dorothy had heroically killed her and liberated the Winkies like the noble woman she was. Her anger hid another, deeper emotion—her pain. And now, like a fool, I was reminding her of it. No wonder she was so upset.
“Well,” the Scarecrow observed, “they’re here now. Might as well do something with them.” I wanted to throw him from the room. He didn’t understand anything, and he certainly didn’t understand Dorothy. Not the way I did.
“I don’t want them within a mile of my palace,” Dorothy snapped. “They probably have lice.”
“The Winkies are a very clean people,” I said hastily. “Dorothy, I lived among them for years. I ruled over them, don’t forget.”
“Tin, just make them go away.” She stared at me, narrowing her beautiful crystal-blue eyes. “If you really do care about me,” she said coolly, “you’ll do as I ask without questions, Tin.” With that, she swept out of the room, leaving me staring after her in despair.
“What have I done?” I moaned. “She’ll never forgive me. How could I be such an idiot?”
“What do you mean?” the Scarecrow asked.
“Instead of bringing her an army, I brought her a reminder of a terrible time in her life. How can I possibly earn her trust again?” I sank into a chair next to the chancellor, who made a small, terrified noise, and put my head in my hands, nearly sticking myself in the eye with my sinister new fingers.
“Tin,” the Scarecrow said slowly, “are you actually in love with Dorothy?”
“Of course I’m in love with Dorothy!” I shouted, so forcefully I startled us both. “Who wouldn’t be in love with Dorothy? She’s beautiful, and kind, and generous, and we’ve been through so much together. I thought she felt the same way. I was going to tell her when I brought her the army. But now I’ve ruined everything.”