Mombi had saved the newspaper with the details of the post-tornado emergency cleanup effort. My mom had been moved to temporary emergency housing along with everyone else from this area who lost their homes in the tornado and didn’t have anywhere else to go—which, as far as I could tell, was our entire trailer park.
“Great,” I muttered. “It’ll be a Dusty Acres reunion. I can’t wait.”
We talked for a while about what my plan should be, but the truth was that none of us really knew what we were doing. All we had to go on was a Wickedly half-baked theory that Dorothy’s maybe-mythical magical shoes were somewhere in my old high school, and if they were I would be able to find them. It didn’t even make sense. None of this made sense. Plus, if the shoes had worked to bring Dorothy back from Oz, who knew whether they’d succeed in taking all of us to Oz even if I could find them? None of us could use our full magic. We were totally making up this whole thing as we were going along.
But the prospect of action left me weirdly cheerful. Anything was better than sitting around waiting for the end—even visiting a mom I’d been only too happy to leave behind. It was a crazy, stupid, and probably impossible mission, but it wasn’t exactly my first crazy, stupid, and probably impossible mission. Once I decided to do it, I felt almost relieved.
Nox hadn’t come back inside, and I pretended I didn’t care. “You might as well get a little rest,” Glamora suggested. “It’s not even dawn yet—you can go see your mother later in the morning.” I wasn’t going to argue with that logic. As I settled into a corner of the tent, wrapping myself up in a soft cashmere blanket the color of Nox’s eyes (oh please, I told myself, knock it off), I was almost surprised to realize how tired I was. It made sense, of course. I’d been through a lot, and it wasn’t like we’d been taking naps in between battles. But I was tired all the way through to my bones. I felt like I could sleep for a thousand years without waking up, and the thought was tempting. I wasn’t just physically tired—I was tired of everything. Of fighting, of running, of losing. I wanted someone else to take up the burden of saving Oz for a while.
Get some rest, Amy, I heard Gert say in my head.
A warm tingle started in my toes and spread through my body, relaxing my muscles one by one as if I was sinking into a giant bubble bath. It felt just like the healing pool in the cave where I’d first been taken to the Order. Before I knew it, I was actually there. The purple walls of the cavern, studded with glittering amethyst stalactites, met in a high arch overhead. The massive tree, whose roots seemed to reach deep into the very heart of the earth, stretched toward the ceiling with gnarled branches covered in tiny white blossoms that drifted down around me like sweetly scented snow. I was floating in the deep, foamy pool, its water as warm as a bath. My clothes dissolved around me as the water drew out my aches and pains and exhaustion. I knew somewhere inside that I couldn’t possibly be back in Oz, that the vision was Gert’s doing, but I didn’t fight it. I drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The witches let me sleep in. The tent was empty and I could see through its delicate silk walls that the sun was high in the sky by the time I sat up, yawning and stretching. I didn’t feel all the way rested, exactly, but I did feel a lot better. I wondered how long it had been noon for, and then I remembered we weren’t in Oz anymore. The sun here moved because the earth was spinning on its axis, not because some crazy power-hungry bitch decided it should be sunny for as long as she felt like it. I wasn’t thrilled about being back in Kansas, but that part at least was a nice change.
“Oh good, you’re awake,” Glamora said, sticking her head through the tent flap. “Mombi ate all the bacon, but I’m sure we can whip up some more. She says it’s important to sample the local delicacies as long as we’re here.” I laughed out loud at the idea of anyone calling bacon a “local delicacy,” but my stomach growled loudly, and even Glamora giggled.
I couldn’t use magic to fix myself up, so I dragged my fingers through my dirty hair and straightened my clothes as best I could. Gert’s magical cleansing vision had been all in my head. I was pretty distinctly in need of a real bath, but I decided not to worry about that either. If my mom wanted a pretty princess, she could brush my hair herself. I’d had about enough of other people’s expectations.
Nox was wrapping himself up in his Quadrant cloak, obviously preparing to go somewhere. He refused to meet my eyes. The distance between us that had sprung up last night felt even stronger now. I wanted to say something to him, reach out. But I didn’t know how to cross the gulf I’d somehow created. I’d been the one to push him away, but I was already regretting it.
“Where are you going?” I asked in a low voice, and he practically flinched.
“Gert and Glamora want me to protect—” he began, but Glamora cut him off with a breezy wave of her hand. Gert and Glamora exchanged glances.