Shadows of the Emerald City (24 page)

A sound echoed from outside- a grunt mixed with the flutter of feathers and the sweep of wind.

“
Gumdrops,” Trewis cursed. It was too familiar a noise to ever forget. He rushed to the door, swinging the rifle off his back and pouring gunpowder and shot into the barrel as he ran. The Ticktock’s feet clanked close behind. By the time he stepped into the sunshine the weapon was packed and ready to fire.

Trewis skidded to a halt. Every tree limb sagged with the weight of apes, their shoulders twitching with raven wings.

These were no flying chimps. These were Silverbacks. Gorillas. Once Trewis had seen one catch a cannon ball midair and throw it back. Flying monkeys were dangerous.
These
were death from above. He glanced at his gun. What would he do now? Their skulls were too thick for bullets.

“
Imminent danger
,” the Ticktock warned.

Trewis spat.

“
Thanks.”

Suddenly the Munchkin tumbled forward, pain searing through his side. An ape pounded the ground where Trewis had stood, throwing dust and torn grass in the air. In the trees gorillas drummed their chests and howled.

“
DESIST
,” The Ticktock commanded and threw up its arm to fire. The Silverback was too quick. It gripped the mechanical man’s hand in its own and the Tin Soldier’s metal fingers crumpled back like paper.

Trewis righted himself, spun, and fired sending a cloud of blueberry haze funneling from the muzzle. So many years had passed since the sweet and sour tang of gunpowder had invaded his nostrils it made his nose twitch. The lead shot struck just above the ape’s frenzied brow, but did little more than madden it.

“
Let him go you filthy monkey!
” the Munchkin screamed as he reloaded.

The Silverback roared and swept its wing across the Ticktock, sending it crashing through the shed wall. A second later the ape charged, its mouth so wide Trewis could count every tooth.

Trewis held steady. There was only one chance. He wrapped his finger around the bronze trigger… felt the earth beneath his feet throb with the gorilla’s gallop, but he held steady and studied his enemy. Probed the savage face.
Where was the weakness? Where was the flaw?

Then he knew.

In his mind the ape’s eye grew so wide he knew he couldn’t miss, and as he aimed he willed it wider than the sky.

With one squeeze of the trigger the gorilla’s entire body quivered. Blood sprouted where its eye had been—a curling stream, growing like a funeral flower out of a grave. The beast was dead before it hit the ground, but inertia carried the body forward until it collapsed. With a final convulsion it laid its limp hand at Trewis’ feet.

Howls erupted from the trees. The gorillas spread their wings and flocked to the air, black like storm clouds and grey like ghosts. Trewis saw them coming, his hands working in a flurry to reload- but it was too late.

They surrounded him. A fist jagged his head back. Knees and elbows pummeled his sides. He heard snaps as his ribs cracked and an arm caught around his neck cinching tight, tinting the edges of his vision dark. It felt like he was swinging from a gallows made of muscle. Suffocation crackled through his bones, lighting up his brain like wildfire. He snatched the dagger from his belt and stabbed out until blood coated his hands, but they never let go.

Apes plunged into the shed and pulled the Ticktock out, hoisting it over their heads like a war trophy. The mechanical man swung a hand down and crushed one of their skulls, but the others took hold of its arms and legs and pulled them apart.

With swift wing beats they lifted into the air, still carrying the mechanical man between them and hooting victory with extended lips.

The last thing Trewis saw was a bright blue sky as his eyes rolled up and blackness vomit from the sun.

“
He was
supposed
to be dead.”

There was a grunt, and the sound of an open palm slapping the ground.

“
No, no. This is better. You’ll be paid appropriately. The Jungle, all of it—I bequeath you, and when I come again into my kingdom I’ll give you power to make war over the Lions. Now tie him up and set him with the rest. Then you may go.”

A moment later savage hands wrapped the Munchkin’s wrists and ankles in leather cord and dragged his body backward, propping him up against a monolith.

“
Good. Now off with you.” When the apes were gone he knelt and leaned in close to study the curving wrinkles in the Munchkin’s face. All that was left of the witchling’s eyes had melted away. Just two, cavernous red sockets remained. “Wake up Little Father, you’ve been dreaming.”

Trewis stirred half awake. The taste of iron flooded his mouth and a pain jabbed so sharp in his chest it felt like his organs were torn. It was all he could do to bite back the groans welling from his lips.
You’re a soldier
, he told himself in the half-conscious haze,
even if you’re an old one. What’d the War teach you, but that pain is a guest? Pain means you’re alive.
Suddenly a smell caught his nose that twisted his stomach inside out. His eyes fluttered open and the witchling king was there, still hovering close.

“
Morning, Sunshine. You overslept, you lazy thing. But you did a wonderful job of finding the mechanical man. Celizabeth would be proud.” His wild hair blended into the darkening sky and maggots wriggled at the corners of his mouth. “Strange how things go, eh? Turns out you
weren’t
the hero after all. Just a lovely little pawn.”

Trewis sat silent.

Sometimes wrath makes a reckless tongue. Sometimes it lies patiently in wait.
Don’t give him what he wants
, he thought,
Don’t banter with fiends and devils. Let him grow as sick of his own voice as I am of it.

And while he waited he took stock of his surroundings. To his right the China Princess, five inches tall, stuck out crooked from a block of concrete. On the other side of her a blur of colors bounced back and forth in a prison of prisms.
Polychrome
, he realized.
The Living Rainbow. He is a power if he can capture lig
ht. Then he saw Glinda and Lacasta, their faces ravaged with burns, and just beyond them the Ticktock, its truncated frame still smoking.

“
What use would he have of you?” Trewis wondered.

They were in the middle of a city square bordered on every side with broken columns and spired buildings whose windows stood empty and staring. The air was still and heavy like it was crowded with ghosts, and the ground was paved with black cobblestones.

It was Onyx—the place the wise, of old called the Graveyard of Worlds.

Ozymandias sighed.

“
Wasn’t it wonderful, the day I died? It was like a song with a sorrowed end. My small band of loyalists against an ocean of rebels. Your army flooded the streets. And do you remember? This is where the waves broke.” He pointed down the way. “That was where your lucky bullet scuttled everything. Poetic really.
You
killing
me
. But enough of that. Today someone
else
is going to share my luck.” A few wide strides took him out of sight, leaving a confused Trewis alone with the others.

Nearly half a minute passed before he decided it was safe to try and free himself. He tested his bonds, turning this way and that, trying to wriggle free, but the knots were noose tight and his hands were already going numb.

Suddenly the windless air broke with screams. Someone sobbed. Another begged. The voices were high and young. Girls.

Ozymandias returned, dragging one by the arm and the other by long black hair.

“
Little Father, meet Easter and Westerly. Recent orphans whose parents died quite tragically.”

“
LET THEM GO!
” the Munchkin bellowed, writhing against the ground, trying to break the bonds on his wrist. “
DON’T YOU TOUCH THEM!
”

“
Ah, so the cat didn’t quite catch all your tongue? Good.” Ozymandias turned and knelt near the girls. “My daughters were very naughty,” he said, stroking one of their faces tenderly and leaving a shiny trail of rot where his fingers touched. “They had me killed. And I can’t have that, can I? No. I need new ones. Wouldn’t you like that? Wouldn’t
you
like to be my new daughters?”

A fresh torrent of tears erupted from them both.

He frowned. Speaking in a tone that would have been soothing except for the horror of his words, he said:

“
Did I scare you when I stole you out of your beds and you saw your parents all in pieces on the ground? When you’re my daughters you don’t have to be scared ever again. You’ll be the ones to scare. You’ll be the monsters beneath the bed. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

They wailed and collapsed into each other’s arms.

Ozymandias stiffened.

“
You’re just children,” he snapped, “it doesn’t matter what you want. You would have learned that if you’d have had a chance to grow up.” Then a dagger flashed. Crimson flowed from one girl’s throat, splattering the ground. The knife flashed again, this time rose-red, and sank into the other’s heart. The girls’ eyes were a canvas painted with ever colder colors until they faded into dark. Death rattled from their throats before they even knew that they were dead.

“
There’s a serpent in every garden, my mother used to say.” He slipped the knife, still dripping, back inside his coat. “She was a good woman. Her name was Emily.” He laid a hand on each of their foreheads and mouthed a word.

“
I’ll kill you,” Trewis snarled, panting from the strain of screaming, “I’ll kill you and cut you up and burn them in a pit.”

The green man grinned so wide the skin split at the corners of his mouth.

“
We all have our dreams. Oh, and don’t mourn them overmuch. Their little souls are floating off into the heaven of my mother. Think of it as more of an eviction than a murder. Now I just fill their vacant brains up with thoughts of my choosing…and
voila
,” he threw out his hands. “Vastly more fascinating than the originals.”

In sick rhythm their bodies convulsed. “Ha, you see? Aren’t they little miracles?” Froth gurgled from their mouths and their muscles jerked and contracted until they rose to their knees. Soon they were standing, swaying, their faces more pale than glacier ice.
But how long, until they’re as green as their slayer?
Trewis wondered,
How long until they’re just rotting skin stretched over dirty bones?

“
Go, darling daughters, carve me out a kingdom. Prepare the world for my coming.”

Suddenly they were gone, the only evidence they were ever there were rivers of blood creeping wider, flowing through rough channels made of paving stones. The witchling whistled an old bar tune, shrill and gusty, and ripped open the Ticktock’s chest plate. He fiddled with the wires that hung bundled together inside.

“
I knew this little beauty would do nicely as an incendiary device. Just switch a few wires and…”

The Tin Soldier’s cast iron jaw wagged open.

“
WARNING… 5 minutes until detonation… WARNING…
”

“
There now. A little self-destruction makes the world go round, don’t you think? But don’t worry, it’s just enough of an explosion to give me a sneak peek through the Door, like a little key hole. It’s too bad Munchkins and mortals are so flammable, eh Trewis?” But I’ll tell you this: your darling wife begged for you so prettily that I’ll let you live if you escape.”

Ozymandias took two steps and with the third melted into the air.

“
What do we do?” Trewis’ frantic voice carried across the plaza.

“
Give up,” a tiny voice whispered. “Just give up. All these years, such a waste.” The delicate voice was so soft it took a moment to find. The China Princess—old, careworn, chipped and cracked, turned her head away.

“
You can’t mean that,” he stuttered. “You’ve seen what he is, what he can do. Think of your people. Think of the…”

“
He’s broken them. Every last one but for me” She covered her face like a mother in grief. “He ground them down to powder so fine they fell like sand through my fingers. A gust of wind and they were gone.” Her voice grew furious. “What will striving do for me now? I am the
last
. The ruler of a crushed city. An empty empire. What’s the use?”

“
The use?
” Trewis asked, the fire inside him roaring. “The
use
? I’ll tell you. Revenge. Or Justice. Or mercy for all the thousands he’ll kill when he comes into his kingdom. All the millions he’ll enslave. Is that enough to at least keep
trying
to fight?”

The Princess bent double with sobs too violent for words. He gave up any hope that words he had the power to speak could pierce her fine etched ears.

“
My children!
” she wailed, “Oh my children! If only I could have stopped him before… before…”

She never finished the sentence. She raised her right hand high and brought her arm against the edge of the concrete- once, twice, three times. Suddenly it snapped and rolled away, jagged at the shoulder. “Take it,” she gasped, “Avenge my people.”

The words were coffin nails driven into his soul. His lips wrung out a strangled cry,