“We won’t,” Glinda said calmly. “We’ll wait for them to fail, as you know they will. When they’re ready to see their way is the wrong one, they’ll listen.”
“But we have to warn them! If they go into battle tomorrow, they could be hurt—or even killed!”
“Casualties are inevitable in any war,” Glinda said, that previous coolness creeping back in. “If I’m going to help you, Scare, I have to know you’re willing to do whatever it takes, even if that means sometimes people you care about get hurt. We’re past the point of protecting everyone from danger now. Don’t you see that?” Her voice grew urgent. “Danger is here, Scare! We have to do what’s necessary, or even more people will be lost. Do you understand? Tomorrow, I want you to hide during the fighting. You’re a thinker, not a fighter. I need you to be strong and clever—and I need you to stay alive.” Glinda pulled a glowing pink bottle out of thin air and handed it to the Scarecrow. “Drink this tomorrow,” she said. “It’ll keep you hidden—and safe.”
“I can’t drink,” the Scarecrow said, bewildered.
“Trust me,” Glinda replied. Obediently, he tucked the bottle into one of his pockets.
“I just want to go back,” the Scarecrow said, his mind reeling. “I want Oz the way it was, before any of this happened.” He sank to the ground and put his head in his hands. “It’s all so much.”
Glinda crouched down beside him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You have to be strong now,” she said into his ear. “There’s no other way. You know I’m right.”
And of course, he did. She was so strong, so sure. There was something about her that was so persuasive he forgot all of his questions. He’d let the Lion and Lulu go into battle in the morning—it wasn’t as if he could stop them. And if Glinda really was right, they’d lose, just as he’d thought.
“But what will we do after tomorrow?” he asked. “How will we come up with a plan?”
“I know you’ll think of something,” Glinda said. “You always do.”
He sat up a little straighter. Did he really? He wasn’t sure, but if Glinda said he did, it must be true. She was a witch, and she knew even more than he did. Her powers were mysterious and apparently far stronger than he’d ever guessed. “Of course,” he said. “You’re right. I’ll think of something.”
“I knew I could count on you,” she said, and he felt a glow of pride that matched the radiant light emanating from Glinda. “It’s best that we keep my return from the south a secret for now. The others will be too surprised that I’m back in Oz and wielding magic again, and the less distraction we have right now the better. No matter how clever you are, it’s clear the Lion and Lulu won’t listen to you until their own foolish plan has failed. When the time is right, I’ll reveal myself, and you’ll tell them the details of your brilliant plan.”
“Shouldn’t I be planning a way to convince them we’re right before they go to war tomorrow?” the Scarecrow asked. Glinda frowned the tiniest of frowns.
“The Lion asked for courage, not brains,” she said. “He won’t listen until he has no other choice. There’s no other way.”
Nothing Glinda was saying quite made sense, but every time he tried to think about it that strange, sinister feeling at the back of his brain stirred and he forgot his doubts again. After all, why was he questioning Glinda? She was an all-powerful witch—and a good one, too. She’d only ever helped him when Dorothy had traveled with them in Oz. No, she was on their side, there was no doubt about it. His new brain just wasn’t powerful enough yet to keep up with hers. He was reluctant to send his friend and the Lion’s subjects into danger, of course, but if she said there was nothing else they could do she had to be right. She wanted to avoid bloodshed just as much as he did. She was a good witch, after all.
Seeing his agreement, Glinda leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. The cloth felt warm where her lips had been when she pulled away.
“Be clever,” she said. “And be strong. I’ll return soon.” The pink light flashed once, and she was gone.
The Scarecrow stared into the dark forest, thinking hard. It would be up to him to save the day when the Lion and Lulu had failed. He couldn’t let them down—and as importantly, he wanted Glinda to know she’d made the right choice to trust him. “You don’t fail a woman like that,” he said aloud into the dark. “Not even once.”
TEN
Scare was on the post again. His legs and arms were bound. All he could see in every direction were fields of corn. And crows.
One
Two
Three
Four.
They each landed on him and began their cawing and pecking—Stupid Scare . . . Stupid Scare . . . Stupid Scare . . .
Scare awoke with a start. The crows weren’t real. He wasn’t back on the post again, his arms and legs unable to move. Back then, he’d spent day after day, night after night wishing he had more to occupy himself than counting the crows that perched on him. They were not at all afraid of him. And they were not his friends either. He had longed for two things back—friendship and a brain—and now he had both, he reminded himself with a sigh that rustled his straw.
Lion snored as loudly as a steam engine, and there was no escaping the noise that filled the clearing that served as his throne room. His snores were echoed by the cacophonous breathing of Lulu’s winged monkeys, who sprawled out across the ground sound asleep. The noise was awful. But it was a relief compared to the dream.
All the same, the Scarecrow’s heart sank when the first rays of dawn flooded the forest. No matter how convincing Glinda’s arguments had been, the fact remained that his friends—and he—were headed into danger, and some of them would not survive. There was no way around it, he told himself firmly. He could no more have prevented it than he could have changed the time the sun rose and set every day.
Cornelius rushed into the clearing at the break of dawn, wearing a shiny, fringed chain mail shirt and banging vigorously on a rabbit-sized drum. “To arms!” he shouted. “To arms!” The sleeping monkeys stirred, and more animals began to file into the clearing. These were the soldiers Cornelius had picked out, the Scarecrow realized: they were the fiercest and most intimidating of the Lion’s subjects, wildcats and badgers and several wolves, one of whom was already licking chops bloodied by whatever unfortunate creature it had eaten for breakfast. They all eyed the winged monkeys warily, and for a brief moment the Scarecrow wondered what would happen if they refused to be carried.
But the Lion explained Lulu’s plan quickly, and everyone seemed to agree. Each of the Lion’s warriors paired up with a monkey. The Lion was so large that it took two monkeys to lift him.
“I’ll take you,” Lulu barked to the Scarecrow. Lulu was the smallest of the winged monkeys, and the Scarecrow was the lightest of everyone attacking the castle, since he was only made of straw, so he could hardly argue. But he wasn’t happy about being paired with the brash, obnoxious little monkey. Lulu grabbed his shoulders unceremoniously and lurched upward, flapping her wings wildly. “Let’s go!” she yelled. “No dillydallying on my watch!”
All around them, the monkeys launched into the air, most of them with far more grace than Lulu had managed. A few of their passengers looked a little green, and one bobcat struggled frantically, nearly forcing its monkey to drop it to the ground, before it managed to calm down enough to allow itself to be carried. Despite his anxiety about what lay ahead, the Scarecrow couldn’t help but enjoy the flight. He’d only had a handful of chances to fly before, and the first of those had been more than a little unpleasant.
Below them, Oz looked like a patchwork quilt. They were passing over farm country, and green and gold fields made neat squares across the landscape. “Look!” the Lion called out, pointing one massive paw to the east. “It’s the Road of Yellow Brick. We’re headed in the right direction.”
“Of course we’re headed in the right direction,” Lulu muttered. “I’m no dummy. Unlike some people,” she added under
her breath. Unsure whether she was insulting him or the Lion, the Scarecrow kept his mouth shut. He’d been dropped by a winged monkey once before; he had no wish to repeat the experience.
Flying to the Emerald City was far quicker than walking, and they hadn’t been following the undulating golden ribbon of the Road of Yellow Brick for much of the morning before the green gleam of the Emerald City appeared on the horizon. As soon as he caught sight of that familiar bottle-green light, the Scarecrow’s doubts returned, and he forgot all about the pleasures of the journey. There was no way Jinjur could fail to see them coming, no matter what Lulu said, and he had a feeling she’d be ready for them when they arrived.
The city rushed toward them. Its streets were eerily deserted instead of their usual thriving bustle. The gates, ordinarily manned by a gatekeeper, stood wide open, but the sight was sinister instead of inviting. “We’ll carry you over the gates,” Lulu said in a low voice. “Be ready for action as soon as we drop you on the other side.” The monkeys landed silently, gently dropping their passengers to the ground and folding up their feathered wings without making a sound.
The Lion waved a paw, and his warriors moved into a loose formation, muscles rippling under their sleek coats. In the forest, they had looked frightening enough. But here, ready for battle, they looked lethal. The monkeys had no weapons, and the Scarecrow wondered how they would defend themselves. Thankfully, he didn’t have to worry about that, assuming Glinda’s potion really could protect him. She wouldn’t let him risk his life, would she?
The beasts were alert, ready for danger. The Scarecrow could almost smell their readiness to fight.
But the city was empty. Everywhere, doors stood open and windows were unshuttered. Bread filled the shelves of the bakeries, and fruit stalls overflowed with exotic fruits from every part of Oz. But there were no people. The Scarecrow looked through the doorway of one house and saw that a half-prepared meal had been left in the kitchen. It reminded him of the burned-out Munchkin village, except that here there were no flames and no bodies. It was simply as if everyone had left the city at once in the middle of whatever they’d been doing.
“What did Jinjur do to the city?” whispered a stoat that slunk alongside the Scarecrow.
“I’m not sure I want to know,” the Scarecrow admitted. Up ahead, Lulu made a slashing motion with one paw to silence them. There was no sign of Jinjur’s soldiers. Could they possibly win the battle without even fighting it? If they did win, would Glinda still return? He hoped so. She believed he was the rightful King of Oz. Surely she’d be able to convince the Lion and Lulu to support him, and he knew Tin would, too. With Glinda on his side, he’d be back in power in no time. He could even appoint her a royal adviser.
The army crept stealthily through the deserted streets until they reached the edge of the castle grounds. The sense of abandonment was somehow even worse. Someone had left gardening tools and a wheelbarrow next to one of the flower beds. Tarpaulins were scattered here and there, perhaps the beginning of a construction project. In a side yard, drying laundry hung on a line. The air smelled faintly of cooking.
The palace gates were shut tightly, and there was no sign of life behind its windows. Lulu led them right up to the gates, and then stopped short. “There’s no way in,” she hissed.
He looked around them. Something wasn’t right. His brain was working furiously. If Jinjur had wanted to protect the Emerald Palace, she would have barred the gates to the city, not left them open for anyone to wander through. Why was the city empty? Why was the castle undefended? The Scarecrow’s brain worked furiously, analyzing every possibility, until he realized the truth.
“It’s a trap!” he cried out, running toward Lulu. “We have to get away from the palace! It’s a trap!”
ELEVEN
He was too late. All around them, Jinjur’s soldiers threw off the tarpaulins that had concealed them from the Lion’s army. More emerged from shallow trenches they’d covered with strips of sod. The Lion’s army was backed up against the impenetrable wall of the castle, with Jinjur’s soldiers blocking any possibility of escape. Jinjur had known they were coming all along, and lain in wait until she could trap them against the palace itself.
Lulu realized what was happening a second after the Scarecrow did. “To arms, monkeys!” she bellowed, whirling to face the oncoming soldiers. The dead-eyed, grim-faced girls were impossible to tell apart. Even their armor matched. They raised their identical pistols, surging toward the Lion’s forces.
Suddenly the winged monkeys rose up into the air, and for a brief, terrible moment, the Scarecrow thought they were abandoning the battlefield. But one by one, the monkeys began to dive-bomb Jinjur’s soldiers. One monkey grabbed a girl and flew up into the air with her. She screamed in fury as he soared upward, dropping her at the top of his arc. She hit the ground with a sickening crunch. The other monkeys quickly followed suit, seizing Jinjur’s soldiers off the battlefield and hurling them at the ground or the castle walls. Gaping in terror, the Scarecrow was rooted to the spot by the sight of the carnage in front of him.
“There he is!” Jinjur screamed. She was dressed for battle in bloodred armor, and her lipstick was an even brighter shade of red. “The Straw King! Destroy him!” She was pointing directly at him. The nearest of Jinjur’s soldiers raised their pistols, firing a hail of bullets that ripped through his cloth arms and legs.
“Oh no!” the Scarecrow said. Then he turned around and ran.
“Get him!” Jinjur screamed. “Don’t let him escape!” But the Lion’s army leapt forward with a furious roar, laying into the soldiers with claws and teeth. The girl soldiers, distracted by the onslaught, fired madly into the oncoming menagerie. A crocodile snapped its huge jaws shut on a girl’s arm, ripping it from her shoulder. A wolf darted forward, tearing out another girl’s throat. For just a moment, it seemed like the fight might turn in their favor. In the total chaos, the Scarecrow was momentarily overlooked. Dodging flying bodies, he made his way to the edge of the carnage.
But Jinjur hadn’t forgotten about him. Her moped had been outfitted for battle: spiky armor plated each side, forming a protective shell that covered her legs. A gun was mounted above its windshield that fired rapidly into the melee. She carried a pistol in one hand and a sword in the other, piloting the moped with her feet. She slashed furiously with her sword hand while somehow aiming and firing shot after shot with the other. Her soldiers rallied around her, and more and more animals began to fall to the blood-soaked ground as she cut her way toward the Scarecrow.
The potion, you idiot! Glinda’s voice was as clear in his ear as if she’d actually been standing next to him. Of course! He fumbled in his pocket for her potion and it slipped through his fingers, clattering to the ground. A stray bullet thudded into the earth inches from the bottle, sending it flying. “No!” the Scarecrow moaned, diving after it. Jinjur was nearly upon him, screaming with rage and firing shots into the air. At the last moment, he reached the bottle and fumbled with the stopper.
“Good-bye, you pathetic excuse for a man,” Jinjur sneered. He looked up in terror. She loomed over him, her weapons glittering in the sun. Her pistol was pointed directly at his head. The bullets might not cause lasting damage to his arms and legs, but that didn’t mean a shot between his eyes wouldn’t end him. Jinjur tightened her finger on the trigger just as the Scarecrow rolled frantically to one side and tilted Glinda’s bottle toward his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the end.
All around him, the sounds of the battle vanished as suddenly as if someone had brought the lid down on a piano. The Scarecrow opened one eye. He was still alive. Jinjur was still standing over him, but her pistol hand had dropped to her side and her face was a mask of confusion and fury. Her mouth moved, but he couldn’t hear a sound she was making. He was surrounded by a shimmering pink bubble, magic moving across its surface like an iridescent sheen. Jinjur fired at the ground all around her. But when her bullets hit the Scarecrow’s bubble, t
hey slowed and stuck as if she’d fired into a vat of gelatin, then slowly dissolved into silvery liquid and ran down the bubble’s sides to the ground. The Scarecrow stared at Jinjur, but she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at where he’d just been.
She couldn’t see him, and she couldn’t shoot him. Glinda’s magic had worked. He almost whooped with glee, but he didn’t know if the bubble would conceal any noise he made, too, and it was best to play it safe. Ducking flying limbs and hopping over struggling bodies, the Scarecrow made his way around the edge of the battlefield, back to the hedge maze, which was quiet and empty. He had no idea how long Glinda’s magic potion would last, and he didn’t want to be in the middle of a battlefield when it wore off.
“Find the Scarecrow! Destroy the beasts!” Jinjur screamed. Her army fought with renewed ferocity. It looked like the beasts were struggling to hold up against the girls’ superior firepower.
“Retreat!” Lulu shouted. “Monkeys and animals, to me!” The monkeys flapped into the air, hurtling toward where Lulu hovered, and the Lion’s surviving soldiers fought their way to where the monkeys flew in a tight circle. One by one, the monkeys swooped down and picked up their passengers; there were far more monkeys than animals this time. Jinjur fired at each of the monkeys as they came into range, taking down several. At the last moment, the Scarecrow realized he would be left behind, and ran frantically toward where the last two monkeys were struggling to lift the Lion into the air as Jinjur’s soldiers shot at them furiously.
“Help!” the Scarecrow shouted. “Take me, too!” But the monkeys couldn’t see him—and they couldn’t hear him either.
“Where’s the Scarecrow?” the Lion shouted. “We can’t leave him!”
“No time!” Lulu screamed. “We can’t look for him now, we’re getting massacred down there. We have to come back for him.”