The Librarian (Book Two: Unhappily Ever After) (20 page)

THE LIBRARIAN HID behind a pillar when he heard the jangle of armor coming his way. He watched from hiding as a squad of castle guards rushed by, then started down the corridor again.

He'd found his staff and satchel in a small armory just outside his cell and had set off to find Douglas when something happened that sent a wave of nervous energy surging through the castle.

At first, the librarian assumed they had been alerted to his escape, but he quickly realized they had more pressing concerns. Guards outside were yelling for the drawbridge to be raised. He heard the metallic clang of swords striking swords. And while he wasn't sure, he thought he heard the excited screams of children. It sounded like the castle was under attack. Although, that made little sense to him. He'd read
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
more times than he could count. Only Oz the Great had dared storm the Witch's castle, and he'd failed so miserably that no one had tried again.

But when the librarian found a window, he saw that the people in Oz had indeed revolted against the Witch. He couldn't believe it! He stood and watched the action unfold until he saw two arrows cut through the air toward the villagers. He looked up. There were now three archers in the watchtower, each ready to rain arrows down on those storming the castle.

The old man turned from the window and started quickly down the corridor again. He didn't know what was happening, but he knew he was going to help.

WESLEY SAW ONE of the castle guards throw the Scarecrow through the air like a rag doll and hurried over to help him up.

"You okay?"

The Scarecrow nodded then threw up one of his floppy arms and pointed toward the castle's wooden drawbridge. "Look," he cried. "They're closing the gate!"

The battle was unfolding all around them. The Tinman fought three guards at a time. The villagers used clubs and sticks and tools that weren't meant for fighting but made good weapons all the same. A few women had snuck past everyone and were helping their children climb through windows into the castle.

"Let's go!" Wesley yelled.

Together they ran for the castle's entry as a pair of guards worked tirelessly to raise the gate. They dodged swinging swords. They ducked beneath darting spears. Once, Wesley dropped to his knees as a pair of guards tried to grab him. Instead, they collided with each other and fell to the ground in a daze.

They were halfway there when the Scarecrow saw movement in one of the towers above them. "Look out!" he screamed.

Wesley stopped dead in his tracks, looking back at his friend. He couldn't read a thing in the Scarecrow's button eyes and instead followed his blank stare up to the watchtower where he caught sight of an archer just as he let his arrow fly.

The Scarecrow leapt into action, shielding Wes with his body. He tackled Wesley to the ground just as the arrow pierced the Scarecrow's back. He was on top of Wesley when the others came, arrows that made their home in the Scarecrow's leg, shoulder and throat.

THE WITCH TOOK the pistol Douglas brought from the real world and held it out to him. "Here," she said nervously. "Teach me this magic as you promised."

"That's not how it works," he explained. "You can't—"

"Then you stop them!"
she screamed.

Douglas drew a deep breath then gently touched the Witch on her hand. Her skin was cool beneath his fingers.

"One gun won't be enough. You have to take us away from here. We may lose this battle, but that doesn't mean we have to lose the war."

"But... but... I'm the ruler of Oz.
They
should cower before
me
." She sounded so sad.

"They will. I promise. But first—"

"I must help you."

"We'll help each other," Douglas said. "Just like we discussed. You get me back to the Tinman's cabin, I'll do the rest."

"But the Tinman lives in Munchkin Country!"

"Can't you fly us out of here on your broom?"

"My broom?" Her reaction was one of utter confusion.

"Yes. Don't you—"

Douglas heard snickering from the corner and looked over where his son was standing with Taylor.

"What?" he asked snidely.

"She doesn't have a broom," Taylor explained. "That's from the movie, not the book." She looked at Randy. "Guess he reads about as much as you do, huh?"

"Don't," he whispered.

"Maybe she can take us home on her umbrella," Taylor suggested.

The Witch flinched when she heard something crash in a nearby room. Some of the villagers had made it inside.

"Think," Douglas said. "Is there another way out?"

"There is," she said. "But we don't need it." She looked up at him grimly. "I have a spell that will do what you ask."

WESLEY DRAGGED THE Scarecrow's limp body through the dirt and toward a boulder that was sitting just a few feet away. Once safely hidden, he frantically began to check the Scarecrow for wounds.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I should have seen!"

He wasn't moving. Wesley rolled him onto his back. There were three arrows piercing his body, but Wesley couldn't find any blood.

"Please wake up! Please—"

The Scarecrow popped up into a sitting position. Wesley fell back, startled by the happy expression that was still stitched into the Scarecrow's face.

"Are... are you okay?"

"I think so." The Scarecrow patted his body down. "Everything seems to be in the right place." He began to pull the arrows from his body one at a time. They came out with ease. "I don't think weapons like this can hurt me."

Wesley flashed a toothy grin. "I bet you're scared to death of fire, though, huh?"

"I am," he answered happily. "How did you know that?"

"Call it a lucky guess."

Wesley poked his head out to check their path. They were almost there, but the drawbridge was closing. In a few moments, their access to the castle would be gone.

"Is it clear?"

An arrow raced past, and Wesley ducked for cover. All three archers had their arrows trained on the path leading into the castle, ready to stop anyone else who dared enter.

"We're pinned down! We're not gonna make it!"

THE WITCH HAD everything she needed scattered across the table in front of her. There was the severed foot of a chicken, an un-hatched egg, several rocks that looked like glass and the carcass of a dead rabbit.

The Witch closed her eye and sighed. "I can't concentrate with you making all that noise, girl!"

Startled, the maid looked up from her work nervously. What was she supposed to do? Leave? Scrub quietly? Wait in the corner? What?

Douglas looked down at her. The poor girl was trembling. "Why don't you find someplace safe to hide. Okay?" The young woman bowed her head then hurried out the door.

Once she was gone, Douglas shifted his attention back to the Witch who'd just cracked the egg and was pouring its bloody yolk over the rocks on the table. When finished, the Witch tossed the eggshell aside and began stirring the rocks with the chicken foot. It was a strange display. Randy couldn't take his eyes away. In fact, everyone was watching with great interest. Everyone but Tay. Her eyes were now fixed on the maid's bucket of water that was sitting just a few feet away. A bucket that was now unattended.

THE LIBRARIAN CREPT up the stairwell and into the castle's watchtower. All three archers had their backs to him, their eyes on the revolt below. This was going to be—

The old man tripped over a discarded helmet. It bounced down the stairs loudly. The Witch's men turned.

"Get him!"

His advantage gone, the librarian cracked the first archer with his staff. The blow doubled him over. When he fell, his bow sent its arrow into the chest of the man beside him.

Just like that it was mano-a-mano.
 

But the third archer didn't go down so easily. He charged forward and tackled the librarian. The old man screamed out as new pain lit up the wound in his shoulder.

As if irritated by the librarian's cry, the archer wrapped both hands around his throat and choked off any others before they came. He put his weight behind both hands and began to squeeze, watching with glee as the old man's eyes began to bulge and his face turned red.

The librarian struggled to break free but couldn't. His vision had blurred. His head felt light. Finally, in a final move of desperation, he raised his knees into the archer's groin and broke free of the guard's grip.

The old man gasped for air. He reached for his staff, but the archer pulled him to his feet before he could grab it, swinging the librarian through the air and pinning him to the ledge that looked down on the grounds below.

He leaned on the librarian, hoping his size would force the old man over the side. The librarian grabbed the stone ledge for support but the top bricks began to move beneath his weight. He tried to knee the archer away, but the guard was ready this time and evaded the pathetic attack with ease.

The old man looked back over his shoulder. They were too high. Any fall would be fatal. The archer leaned on him, and his feet came off the ground as his body teetered over the ledge. Any further shift in weight, and he'd be done for.

But then, his eyes fell on the arrows in the quiver strapped to the archer's back. He reached out. His fingers grazed one of the arrows, but the guard pushed on him again and it fell out of reach.

The librarian could feel the bricks giving way beneath him. He lunged forward, wrapping his fingers around one of the arrows. He pulled it from the quiver and jammed its arrowhead into the archer's throat. Blood spurted across the librarian's face. The archer backed away, pulling on the arrow that was jutting from his neck.

The librarian stepped away from the ledge, watching as life drained from the guard's face.

Suddenly enraged, the archer charged toward the librarian one final time, hoping to take the old man with him in his final moments of life. Instead, the librarian ducked, and the archer went over the ledge and fell to the ground below.

WESLEY HEARD THE archer scream as he fell from the watchtower. He looked up, watching the man claw helplessly at the air in his descent, only taking his eyes away when the guard crashed onto the rocks below.

"Did he jump?" the Scarecrow asked.

"Somehow I doubt it."

Wesley moved his gaze back to the watchtower. His eyes widened with surprise when he caught a quick glimpse of the librarian just seconds before the old man disappeared from view.

"C'mon!" Wesley waved the Scarecrow forward, and they ran for the castle gate. Luckily, they arrived just in time to climb onto the bridge before it was raised completely out of reach. But Wesley was beginning to feel like it was more than luck. He couldn't shake the idea that something had been helping them all along. More and more he felt that this was the way it was supposed to be. For now, Wes pushed the thought from his mind as he and the Scarecrow sprinted down the raised bridge and into the Witch's castle.

THE WITCH CHANTED something beneath her breath, words that seemed to make the rocks on the table glow dimly. As they did, Douglas saw that the Witch's body had become slightly translucent. It was barely noticeable at first, but the brighter the rocks grew, the more ghostlike the Witch's appearance became.

"Dad?"

Douglas looked over at Randy. Randy had both hands up in front of him and was looking at them with great concern. Like the Witch, he was beginning to fade, too. Douglas looked down at himself. He could see the castle's stone floor through both of his arms.

He took Randy's hand, ready to hold it until they reappeared in the meadow outside the Tinman's cabin, neither noticing that Taylor was now holding the bucket of water the maid had left behind.

WESLEY AND THE Scarecrow came into the castle's foyer just as the librarian came down the steps.

"
Master Wesley?
What are you
doing here?
"

The boy looked up at the old man. When he answered he didn't explain that he'd come to save Oz or that he was trying to bring the librarian his amulet or that he was there to kill the Wicked Witch.

Instead, all he said was: "I'm here to save Tay."

Wesley started down the long corridor in front of him, looking into each of the rooms he passed, searching for his friend. The librarian joined the Scarecrow, both helping Wes in his search.

The castle was alive with activity, but most of the guards paid Wesley and his friends little mind. They were in full retreat. The Villagers had won.

Eventually, Wesley came into an empty dining room with a spiral staircase in the corner. Its steps extended in both directions. The librarian watched with great interest as Wesley weighed the choices before him, wondering how the boy would decide. In the end, the decision was made for him. He heard Douglas Stanford screaming from atop the staircase and began to climb.

"NO!" DOUGLAS YELLED. "What are you doing?! No!"

Douglas stepped toward Taylor, but it was too late.

The Witch broke from her trance, turning just in time to see Taylor heave the bucket forward. The Witch gasped, watching helplessly as the water flew toward her, crashing like a tidal wave before washing over her body.

She wailed in pain, her body solidifying to its normal state the moment the water struck her. Then, just as quickly, her green skin was beginning to bubble and melt, running down her face like the wax on a burning candle. Her ears slid down her cheeks. The bottom of her jaw fell, stretching the skin around her mouth so it was now resting on her chest. She began to shrink as the water ate away at her legs.