The Librarian (Book Two: Unhappily Ever After) (14 page)

"Is that... that's
my boy!
"

"Those are
our
kids!"

"What?!"

Nell's father wheeled around to look. Others did, too.

"What is my daughter doing here?" one of them yelled.

"That's Eli!" someone screamed.

"Is she here?" the Tinsmith asked angrily. "Did you bring my Nell with you?!"

"I... I..."

"Unlock me!
Now!
"

Wesley fumbled with the keys, desperate to find the right one as fear took hold of him. Finally, after several failed attempts, one of the keys slid home into the shackles that bound the Tinsmith's feet. He turned the key, and the shackles popped open with a soft click. A moment later, Wesley'd done the same with the cuffs on the big man's wrists.

"You shouldn't have done this," the Tinsmith said.

He started to leave, but Wesley stopped him with an outstretched hand.

"Wait," he said. "You have to help! Please!"

"But Nell—"

"We have to free the others before it's too late."

Seeing the Tinsmith free filled the others with a sense of excitement and desperation. They pushed between Wesley and the Tinsmith and anxiously shoved their cuffed hands into Wesley's face.

"Please, child!"

"Help!"

"I have to save my son!"

"The key! Give us the key!"

It overwhelmed Wesley to see so many faces looking to him as their only salvation. His hands began to shake under the pressure. He had the right key, but now he couldn't fit it through the keyhole.

Once Taylor and the Scarecrow had freed the Lion of his massive harness, Tay pushed through the crowd and came to Wesley's side. The Munchkin Maiden recognized her immediately.

"It's
you! Again!
"

Taylor nodded a quick affirmation but didn't take time for more. She was there to help Wes.

"Calm down," she said. "One at a time. Give him room, guys."

But the mob was growing impatient. Their dirty hands grabbed at the keys. Then, one of the slaves yanked Wesley by the arm. Another moved to do the same.

"Stop!" the Maiden screamed. "They're here to help!"

It looked like the crowd might turn on Wes and tear him to pieces. They were desperate. Desperate for freedom. Desperate to save their children.

Nell's father was about to leave. He wanted to go. He took a few steps toward the wagon, ready to find Nell and escape. But he couldn't leave Wes and the others like this. He stepped in, putting his broad-shouldered body between Wesley and the slaves.

"Stop it!" he said in a deep voice. "This is our only chance! Do you want to see our kids enslaved, too?"

As that grim possibility sank in, the slaves finally backed off and gave Wesley room to work. Each waited their turn, but it was a struggle for all. Their children were
so
close. And they were no longer screaming joyfully as they engaged the Gnomes, many were now crying in pain.
 

Finally, one of the slaves couldn't take it any more. As soon as his cuffs were off, he sprinted to join the fight.

"No!" the Tinsmith said. "Wait!"

But it was too late. The man was already screaming his son's name. "Eli!
Eli!
"

The Gnomes turned, horror showing on their faces when they saw they'd been duped and their slaves were now free.

"No! The King's slaves! Don't let them get away!"

The slaves ran for their children; children ran for their parents. Meanwhile, the Tinman kept swinging wildly, using his hammer to slow any Gnomes within reach.

"Run!" the Tinman yelled. "Run, children! Run!"

Taylor waited for Wes to free the last of the adults then grabbed his hand and started to run.

"The woods!" Taylor screamed. "Go into the woods!"

It was chaos. The families came together, dodging Gnomes as best they could. Some snuck past, others had to fight free again when a Gnome's whip snapped around their waist.

Everyone was on the move but the Munchkin Maiden. She stood alone in silence – awed by the sight of her fiancé – watching as the Tinman did his to save the others. In the end, she hadn't escaped to save him – he had come for her.

TAYLOR AND WES sprinted for the tree line together. All around them adults were pushing their children to do the same as the Gnomes closed in. Just a moment before, the kids had been the saviors – but now the parents were free and everyone seemed to be falling into their natural roles.
 

"This way," Taylor said.

Wesley followed her to a dirt path that cut through the woods, but the villagers stayed in a group, doing their best to evade the Gnomes together. Only one of the Gnomes broke away to follow Taylor and Wes. The rest pursued the main group as they disappeared into the woods.

NELL AND HER father led the villagers through the forest. They were weaving in-and-out of the trees, struggling to get through the dense forest while the Gnomes merely knocked trees over as they went. When they came to the tall pile of discarded trees, it seemed like an insurmountable mountain blocking their path.

Nell's father bent at the waist, gasping for air. Nell stopped beside him.

"Go," he said. "Go, sweetheart. I'll catch up."

Nell could hear the Gnomes approaching. She grabbed her dad by the hand and started pulling him toward the mountain of dead trees they would have to climb. She wasn't strong enough to move him, but the he found new strength when he realized his daughter wasn't going anywhere without him.

 
The villagers lost precious time as they climbed, but everyone eventually made it over the fallen trees and onto the wide path the Gnomes had cut through the forest. The terrain was much easier to cover now, but the adults had spent so much energy in their escape that they had little left. Many of them were falling behind. Some of them had stopped running entirely.

Nell tried to pull on her father, but he was about to collapse. "Daddy!" she screamed. "Please! We have to—"

The Gnomes punched through the pile, trees splintering in every direction. They were right on top of the villagers now.

"No!"

The adults urged their kids to go without them, some yelling sternly, but the children wouldn't listen. Instead, they left their parents and put themselves between the adults and the attacking Gnomes.

The Gnomes slowed as they approached. Their confidence was obvious. It wouldn't be much of a fight without the Tinman and his hammer there to interfere.

Accepting his fate, Nell's father walked to his daughter's side and took her hand. "I'm sorry, baby girl. We'll find another way. I promise."

Perhaps inspired by his actions, other parents moved forward to join their own children until they were all holding hands together, a small village standing together against evil.

"I love you, Nell."

"I love you—"

Nell stopped short, watching as a tree limb began to lower behind the approaching Gnomes. A pair of blinking eyes appeared in the tree's trunk, then its branches curled into a powerful hand that snatched one of the Gnomes from behind. Another tree grabbed the Gnome by his feet, and in an instant, the towering trees had broken the stone creature in two.

The other Gnomes turned to watch, terrified as angry eyes began to appear in the trunks of all of the trees surrounding them.

"No!" one of them yelled. "No! Don't!"

His pleas went unheard. The trees had vengeance on their minds. One at a time they began snatching Gnomes off their feet. Some were tossed in the air; others were bashed against the ground; more still were broken to pieces as the trees unleashed their rage.

It was an ugly scene, but Nell couldn't take her eyes away. Eventually, when the Gnomes were nearly gone, she looked up to her dad, squeezing his hand as hard as she could.

TAYLOR STOPPED AT a gnarled tree, her eyes checking behind them for the pursuing Gnome.

"What are you doing?" Wesley asked.

"C'mon," she said. "Up here!"

"No way!"

Taylor was already on her way up the rugged tree trunk. She found a secure spot then turned to look down at him. "You can do it, Wes. I've seen you. Trust me, it's easy."

"I know I can do it!" Wesley
snapped. He stepped toward the tree, reaching for the lowest branch before stopping. "Wait! We'll be trapped!"

"He can't climb—"

"But he'll wait for us to come down!"

Both kids looked up with a start when they heard tree limbs breaking behind them: the Gnome was coming.

"Do what you want, Wes."

She began to climb higher. Wesley eyed the tree with trepidation. He could hear the Gnome's labored breathing as it came up the path. Wes looked up just in time to see him come into view. There wasn't time to climb the tree now.

Wesley was on his own.

WESLEY BOLTED DOWN the path hoping it branched off or circled back into the meadow so he'd have a better chance of losing the Gnome. Instead, he began to slow when he saw the path dead-end just ahead of him. Only it didn't just stop. The path seemed to disappear. Wesley inched forward. The dirt path had led him to the steep cliff of a huge gorge. There was a small lagoon in the ravine below fed by a massive waterfall in the distance.

Panicked, Wesley turned to leave but saw the Gnome was already there to block his escape. Wes looked left and right. The forest was too dense to enter on either side of him.

The Gnome coiled his whip as he stepped forward.

"Dang it," Wesley muttered.

He looked over his shoulder. The drop was more than two hundred feet. That wasn't an option.

A loud pop echoed in Wesley's ear just before a hot spike of pain traveled the length of his spine and into his limbs. He reached around and felt warm blood trickling through the shirt on his back. Wes turned. The Gnome's gaping mouth had twisted into a toothless grin as he reeled his whip in, ready lash it out again. This time, the Gnome struck the dirt at Wesley's feet. Wesley jumped away and was convinced that just the crack of the Gnome's whip had made his back hurt even worse.

Wesley backed away, his heels on the cliff's ledge. The Gnome lurched forward. He snapped the whip again. Wes tried to hold his ground but flinched. His sneakers sent loose dirt and rock over the cliff's edge. He was out of—

"Look out below!"

Taylor swung down on a vine. Her legs flailed as she sailed toward the Gnome, but she straightened them just in time to kick him over the cliff.

Taylor dropped to the ground then hurried to Wesley's side. Both watched as the stone creature tumbled head-over-heels through the air before splashing into the water below.

"Dang," Taylor said. "That was close, huh?" She patted Wesley on the back. "I told you to climb the tree."

He looked at Taylor sharply. Her amused expression disappeared the moment she saw anger in his eyes.

"What? I'm kidding. You know that."
 

Wesley pushed past her and started down the trail.

"Wesley?" she cried after him. "What?!"
 

But he never turned. All she saw was his back.

PART THREE

THE LIBRARIAN COULD see much of Oz from his cell in the Witch's highest tower. While it was still overcast, a long pillar of morning light had pushed through grey clouds in the distance. It wasn't much to hang his hopes on, but the faint glimpse of sunlight felt like a good sign despite the fact he'd been captured and was badly wounded. After all, it was the first he'd seen the sun since he arrived.

Someone came into the room, and the old man moved to the back of his cell. Earlier, they'd sent a young woman to tend to the wound in his shoulder. Later, two munchkins had brought him a plate with dry bread and a cup of vile purple liquid. But
this
visitor wasn't here to help. This time, it was Douglas Stanford who'd come to see him, reading something on his cell phone's screen as he casually walked into the room.

"So you've corrupted Oz with cell phones, Douglas?"

"You were never much for technology, were you?" Douglas stopped and held the phone up for the librarian to see. "It's what they call a combo device. Almost like a walkie-talkie. I can call or text anyone who has a phone like this one within range."

The librarian furrowed his brow. Was Douglas working with someone else? Someone in Oz? The thought had never crossed his mind. But now...

"Have you eaten?" Douglas asked quietly. "I asked them to bring you food and water."

"Why? You know I'm only here to stop you."

"That doesn't mean I want you
hurt
."

"No," the librarian answered, "of course not."

The old man began to gently massage the wound beneath the heavy bandage on his arm: a reminder of the torture he'd suffered at Douglas's command.

Douglas let his eyes drift down to the wound, and his expression turned sad. "I'm sorry for that. Sometimes I can get carried away."

"No, no. You're a calculating man. You knew exactly what you were doing. You decided what you wanted a long time ago, and you'll do anything to get it. If you have to break a few rules, you will. If you have to demolish the library you love, it may break your heart, but you'll find a way to get it done. And... if a day comes when you have to torture an old teacher, well... you'll do that, too." The librarian winced as he sat down on the small cot in his cell. "You know? When I found out he was your son, I actually thought you'd written his essay. It reminded me
so much
of your work. I think he stole it, though. Does that sound familiar?"

"Leave my boy out of this," Douglas said coolly.

"Is he here?"

"Randy's fine. So are the others, in case you're wondering."

The librarian came off his cot, stepping toward the iron bars of his cell with a sudden burst of energy.