Oz: The Great and Powerful Junior Novel Disney Book Group (6 page)

C
HAPTER
S
EVEN

IGH ABOVE THE CITY,
Oz found himself following Evanora across a narrow footbridge. He had been surprised when the older sister had offered to give him a tour of the palace, but he had quickly agreed. After all, it
was
his palace now, and it was truly magnificent.

“Thank you for the tour,” Oz said as they walked along.

“It’s my job,” Evanora replied with a slight bow of her head.

“Giving tours?” Oz said, amused.

“Taking care of the king,” Evanora replied.

“Well, then,” Oz began, with a new gleam in his eye. “You know, I was thinking: a royal feast might be—”

“My sister tells me your magic is quite powerful,” Evanora said, stopping Oz dead in his tracks.

“Really?” Oz said, surprised. Catching himself, he went on. “I mean…yes, of course. Boggling to the minds of all who witness it.”

Evanora looked back and gave him a charming smile. “I can’t wait to see for myself. Why not show me now?”

“All things in good time,” he hedged. “And a good time for all things!”

They continued making their way along the footbridge. At the other end was a large one-room turret. A gust of wind shook the bridge slightly and Oz looked down. He gulped. They were very,
very
high.

“There’s one last room I want you to see,” Evanora said, oblivious to Oz’s nerves.

Dragging his gaze from the dizzying heights, he saw that the older witch had opened the turret’s doors. His breath caught in his throat. The room sparkled and shone with thousands upon thousands of pieces of treasure. Gemstones of every color sat among chests full of gleaming gold coins. A large statue of a winged horse glimmered, its body made of solid gold, and nearby was a vase covered in intricate artwork. The treasure filled every nook and cranny of the room, completely covering the floor and rising up against the walls. This was the Room of Resplendence.

“The Royal Treasure of Oz,” Evanora explained. “It belongs to whoever is king.”

Oz’s eyes rolled back. He swooned, then looked back at Evanora. “It’s all right, Wizard,” she said. “Go and enjoy your riches!” That was all Oz needed to hear.

As Evanora watched, Oz seemed to faint, hitting the treasure-covered ground with a thud. He lay still for a moment and then he began moving his arms up and down, making angels in the coins just like a giddy little schoolboy.

“It’s mine!” he shouted with glee. “Mine! No more secondhand suits! Nothin’ but silks and satins and—” He reached down and picked up a gold cup. “A chalice! I always wanted a chalice! And now I’ve got one!”

“Well, not quite yet,” Evanora said. Oz stopped rolling around in the gold and looked up at her quizzically. She went on. “You only become king
after
you defeat the Wicked Witch.
That’s
the prophecy. And since you haven’t done that yet…”

“…I’m not actually king?” Oz finished.

Evanora nodded. “Not yet, no. You still have to defeat the Wicked Witch. And killing her…won’t be easy.”

“No, I can’t imagine it would b—” He paused. “Now wait a minute! Nobody mentioned
killing
anyone!” Defeating and killing were two very different things. He had thought maybe he would have to give her a firm talking-to. But killing? That was a little, well, violent, for his tastes.

Evanora frowned. “Oh, well,” she said, her tone stern. “If you’re not interested in being king, that’s all right with me. We can just forget about the whole thing. The gold, the rubies, the chalice…”

“But I
am
interested!” Oz cried. “I’m just not too keen on killing a lady.”

“She’s a wicked
witch
!” Evanora clarified. “And your magic is the only thing strong enough to destroy her. All you have to do is journey to the Dark Forest and destroy her wand.” She looked into his eyes, begging him silently.

“Her wand?” Oz inquired.

“Yes, it’s the source of all her power,” Evanora informed him. “Without it, she dies.”

“Uh, I haven’t even said good-bye to Theodora. She will be upset,” Oz said, trying to buy himself some more time.

“I will talk to her in the morning,” Evanora said. “I will tell her how much you love her, how much you—”

“No,” Oz quickly interrupted. “No, don’t say anything.”

“All right. I will say whatever it is you want me to say, but, are you going to save us all, or not?” Evanora asked with all sincerity, her eyes locked on his.

Oz sighed and tried to muster a smile. He had no choice. He wanted the kingdom. No matter what the cost. It looked like he was going to go on his very own witch hunt.

Once again, Oz found himself walking along the Yellow Brick Road. This time, though, his only companion was the surly flying monkey. As the Emerald City faded into the distance behind them, Oz turned to Finley. The monkey let out a troubled sigh. “We really going to do this?” Finley asked.

“How hard can it be to kill a wicked witch?” Oz asked.

Finley narrowed his eyes. “Hard,” he began. “Really hard. It’s very, very hard to kill a wicked witch. And what about that poor girl back there? I think she really liked you,” he said, referring to Oz’s relationship with Theodora.

“She’ll get over me. They always do,” Oz said. He had been through this plenty of times before back in Kansas. “She’s a pretty young witch; plenty of wizards will be knocking at her door.”

Finley shook his head. “Every lie you tell gets us one step closer to the Emerald City dungeon,” he said.

“Then don’t think of them as lies, think of them as stepping stones on the road to greatness!” Oz said, completely believing his own fibs and fabrications. But Finley wasn’t buying it.

“Wait! I’ve got it!” the flying monkey began. “We’ll turn around and go back. You’ll come clean. You apologize for lying about being the Wizard and for lying to that poor girl. Okay?” Oz glared at him, but Finley was just getting started. “You gotta really seem contrite, you gotta sell it,” the flying monkey continued. “Maybe you can even cry. Can you cry? I could cut up an onion.”

“We’re not going back,” Oz said with a marked confidence. “We’re going to find this Wicked Witch,
and I’m going to steal her wand. I’ll get that big pile of
gold, and you can have a nice pile of bananas, all right?”

Dumbfounded, Finley dropped Oz’s bag.
“Bananas?” he asked, as he gave Oz a long, cold stare. “Oh, I see,” the monkey began. “Because I’m a monkey? I must love bananas, right? That is a vicious stereotype!” the monkey exclaimed.

“You don’t like bananas?” Oz asked.

“No, of course I love them. I’m a monkey; don’t be ridiculous,” Finley said. “I just don’t like you saying it. How about this—we offer to wash all the windows in the Emerald City for an entire year. They’d have to forgive us, right? Or we can give them a little help with their infrastructure. I noticed some yellow brick potholes back there,” the monkey pleaded. But Oz just stared at him blankly.

An awkward silence fell over the pair as they continued to walk down the road. It was going to be a very long, very uncomfortable, journey.…

A short while later, Oz and Finley crested a small hill. Looking ahead, Oz noticed several plumes of smoke rising from just over the next hill. “That looks bad,” Finley said, his voice now full of concern.

“We’re not going down there,” Oz stated. It was bad enough he had to find and defeat a wicked witch, he wasn’t about to investigate a possible fire.

“But someone might need our help!” Finley said as he flew toward the smoke.

Oz was suddenly a bundle of nerves. “Get back here!” he yelled to Finley. “You get back here! Are you trying to get us killed to get out of this life debt? We’ve got to get the Wicked Witch. What are we doing over here?” But Finley didn’t answer. He just continued on toward the plumes of smoke. Oz realized that he once again had no choice. His pace quickened as he left the Yellow Brick Road and followed Finley down toward the smoke.

As they reached the bowl of the valley, the ground under their feet began to change. The grass grew stiffer, and then it began to crunch and clink. Looking down, Oz saw that the grass seemed to be made of glass. In fact, the rocks, trees, even the flowers all looked smooth and shiny, reminding Oz of his great-aunt’s china collection. But it wasn’t just the grass, it was the entire town. There were barns and farms and streets just like a regular town—only everything was made entirely of china!

Making their way into the center of the village, Oz’s heart began to beat nervously. Something terrible had happened here. Everywhere he looked, china was broken and smashed, strewn about as if a giant hand had reached down and smashed the village.

Bending over to pick up a hunk of china, Oz recoiled. A porcelain face stared back at him. Looking around, he began to pick out more faces among the heaps of broken china. A wave of sadness swept over Oz. Who could have done such a thing? Clearly, this was once a living and breathing place. Now it was just a wasteland.

From the ruins of a nearby house came the sound of crying. Oz exchanged a look with Finley. It was a dangerous situation, but they both knew they had to investigate the crying sound. Then in the distance came the shrieks of the flying baboons. They sounded like they were coming straight toward them!