The Wizard Returns (4 page)

The next morning, after a breakfast of (to Hex's dismay) more oatmeal, Iris marched him briskly back to Lulu's hut. Her velvet suit was rumpled, but otherwise she was back to being the cocky, confident monkey who had marched him up the endless stairs.

Iris burst through the palace door, shouting, “Your Majesty! Your Majesty!” Queen Lulu, startled, turned from where she had been giving terse instructions to a small group of nervous-looking monkeys dressed in battered armor and carrying monkey-sized swords. Behind the queen, Quentin leaned against the wall, his dark eyes glittering as he watched the scene.
He looks like a monkey who just found himself a banana tree
, Hex thought. Iris stopped short. “Your Majesty,” she whispered, “what are you doing? Monkeys have never used weapons on monkeys before now.”

“We're past that point,” Queen Lulu said tiredly. “Iris, I have to put a stop to this before our people destroy each other.”

Lulu and Iris stared at each other as if they were frozen in time, while Quentin sneered. Hex's thoughts raced. Quentin wanted the monkeys to side with Dorothy, and everybody hated Dorothy—including Pete. Defeating Quentin's plot
had
to be his test. Iris was too naive and foolish to convince the queen—clearly, that was why he had been sent here. Pete had said he wasn't a real wizard, but that didn't mean he couldn't pretend to be one. He swiftly palmed one of the floating sunfruits and hurled it at the ceiling so quickly the monkeys only saw the bright shower of light that fell around him as the fruit splattered. “ENOUGH!” he boomed, and the monkeys stopped short and gaped at him. “I have come to you to demonstrate my powers and end the conflict that tears apart your nation!” Even his speech had changed, he thought, awed at himself. His back was straighter, his arms upraised as if he were sweeping an invisible cape behind him. His voice filled the little room. He pointed at Quentin. “You cannot hide from the might of my powers, ape!” he shouted. “I see all! I know the trick you have played upon your people and the deceit you have sown! The heart of this conflict lies at your feet, foul thief!” He turned to Queen Lulu, who was staring at him with her mouth hanging open. “Ask him what has been happening to your supplies, mighty queen! Ask him where he has hidden what he has stolen from you! Ask him why he is working in concert with”—
oh bother
, he thought,
what was her name again?
—“er, Dorothy's minions!”

Lulu pushed up her sunglasses, seeming a little less impressed. “These are serious accusations against one of my most trusted
advisers,” she said. “Do you have any proof?”

“He doesn't,” Iris said, practically jumping up and down in her eagerness. “But I—”

Hex interrupted her. “I have seen the traitor at work!” he boomed in the most authoritative voice he could muster. “Last night, while you slept”—he hesitated for the barest moment, and then hit on the perfect lie—“I sent my astral body through the Queendom of the Wingless Ones, and saw the traitor Quentin meeting with the rebels!” This story seemed suddenly preposterous, even as he said it, but the trick with the sunfruit had apparently impressed the queen more than he'd realized. She raised one eyebrow, seeming almost convinced.

“That's nonsense!” Iris exclaimed. “But he's right, and I can—”

But the queen cut her off, turning to Quentin, who was edging toward the door. “Is this true?” she asked, her voice low and angry. “Have you betrayed my trust?”

“I can explain, Your Majesty,” the chancellor said smoothly. “It's all a misunderstanding.” He shot Hex a nervous glance. “The sorcerer is exaggerating—I was merely storing away some of our supplies for safekeeping—” Hex's accusation had been a shot in the dark, but it had hit home he saw. Quentin
had
snuck out of the palace to meet with the rebels, and his slick demeanor faltered as the queen gave him a withering stare.

“You're
lying
,” she snarled. “I can see it in your eyes, you thief! Under my very nose, you've torn apart our people! For this, you'll rot underground, never to swing from a vine in this
city again—but first, you'll give back what you've stolen and end this strife!”

She gestured at her monkey soldiers, and they seized Quentin and dragged him outside. She turned to Hex. “I don't know what gift of fate brought you here, sorcerer,” she said, “but I owe you my queendom.”

“But I—” Iris began. Lulu ignored her and waved one hand imperiously. A soldier hastily brought her a banana. “Humans have never sat at the side of monkeys in all the history of our people,” Lulu said, chewing thoughtfully, “but these are new times for all of us. If you choose to remain among us, you may have Quentin's old job. Which is a
real
honor, I'll have you know.”

Of course, it was Iris who'd actually exposed the traitor. He could tell Lulu, but Iris was just a young hothead with no sense for politics. She wasn't suited for Quentin's position; really, he was doing her a favor, saving her from future embarrassment when she couldn't handle the responsibility. And if defeating Quentin had been his test, surely this was his reward. He could always award Iris an extra banana allowance once he was officially made chancellor—he wasn't
heartless.
Hex bowed politely. “Your Majesty, I'm honored. I'll certainly consider your offer.” She nodded and tossed the banana peel over her shoulder; a guard hurried forward to catch it. “Now,” she said, “I must attend to my people.” With that, she swept out the door, a scatter of rhinestones sparkling in her wake and the guard trailing behind her.

Next to Hex, Iris was almost speechless with fury. “You—you
human
!” she gasped. “You're no
sorcerer
! You're just a stupid
cheat who stole the credit for
my
work, and now Lulu thinks
you're
the one who exposed the rebellion!”

“Iris, there was nothing I could do,” he lied in his most conciliatory tone. “The queen saw what she wanted to see. I would never have undermined you on purpose. Besides, you never said you wanted Quentin's
job
—just that you wanted him defeated. Really, I've only helped you get what you want.”

“You don't even have the decency to tell me the truth,” Iris said furiously. “You humans are all alike. You'll sell out anyone if you think it'll get you ahead.” She gestured toward the door. “If you're so all powerful, you can find your own damn way to the guest chambers.” She stalked out the door, but not before he caught a glimpse of her face and realized she was crying.

Hex watched her small back recede down the walkway, her shoulders shaking. Why couldn't she see how reasonable he was being? He was cleverer than Iris—didn't he deserve the queen's praise? A strange, unfamiliar sensation tugged at his heart—was it
guilt
? If he had done the right thing, why didn't he feel better about it?

“Nice one, Hex,” said a sardonic voice behind him in the formerly empty room. He whirled in surprise. Pete lounged against a wall, one leg crossed over the other, chewing on a blade of grass and eyeing him with distaste. “I guess you can take away the memories, but you can't take away the man. Somehow I'm not surprised.”

“I didn't mean to hurt Iris,” Hex said. “I didn't think—”

“You never thought about anything except yourself,” Pete
said bitterly. “I thought the whole amnesia thing might give you a chance to start over, be a better man. Use wisdom and judgment for once, instead of deceit. Looks like I thought wrong, huh?”

“No!” Hex cried. He remembered the terrible flood of shame he'd felt the moment he'd first seen Queen Lulu. “I did something else to the monkeys, didn't I? Something worse?”

Pete snorted. “Yeah, you could say that,” he said coldly. “You betrayed them, Hex. You gave power over them to the Wicked Witch of the West. You knew she would enslave them, and you didn't care.”

“Why would I do that?” Hex whispered.

Pete shrugged. “You tell me, Hex. Convenient you forgot about that part, huh?”

“What else did I do that I don't remember?” Hex asked, his heart sinking. “What kind of person was I?”

“I already told you,” Pete said. “A crappy one.” He stared at Hex for a long time, his expression unreadable. For the second time, Hex wondered if maybe it wasn't better to leave his memories behind forever. “That was the test of your Wisdom, Wizard,” Pete said. “You didn't do very well.”

“How was that a test?” Hex protested.

“If you cared about Oz instead of yourself, you'd have used your wits to help Iris restore peace to the monkeys—not sell Iris out and make yourself look like the hero. Wisdom should be used for the good of all, not just one. It didn't occur to you to work together with Iris to find a way to defeat Quentin? To tell
the queen that Iris was the one who deserved the credit?”

“But she's just a monkey!” Hex sputtered. “How was I supposed to know that was the test?”

“Here's a hint for the next stage,” Pete snapped. “In the future, try thinking about someone other than yourself.” Pete grabbed Hex by the wrist, and the air around them began to glow with the now-familiar purple crackle of Pete's magic.

“But now I'll never get to be chancellor,” Hex said sadly, and then the hut around them vanished in a shimmer of purple light.

Hex felt as though he was being pulled through the air in a thousand different directions. He opened his mouth to shout in terror and a surge of purple magic poured down his throat. His entire body glowed with the same purple light. Was Pete so fed up with him that he had finally decided to just kill him? But before Hex could worry that he was experiencing his last moments on earth—or wherever he was—the purple light faded and he fell to the ground as if dropped there by a giant, none-too-careful hand.

“Sorry,” Pete said from somewhere behind him, although he didn't sound sorry at all. “Teleportation can be a little rough if you're not used to it. Or if, in your case, you don't remember that you're used to it.”

Hex ignored him, determined not to let Pete get the best of him—again. Instead, he stood up and looked around. They were in another forest, but this one looked significantly different from the monkeys'
jungle home. Where that forest had seemed tropical, this one was cool and still. No brightly colored birds flitted from branch to branch. No sparkling waterfalls cascaded down soft, grassy hillocks between trees. This place was severe, almost stark; the air was much cooler, and as a sharp breeze brushed past the back of Hex's neck, he shivered. There was something about the dim, silent wood that was downright disturbing. He felt as though invisible eyes were peering at him from the shadows between the trees, assessing him as a potential lunch option.

Pete seemed unperturbed by the forest's haunted feel. He was dressed in the same clothes he'd been wearing when he'd pulled Hex from the poppy field, though he'd added a coat to stave off the forest's chill.

“What the hell happened to you?” Hex asked, fury battling out fear in his chest and ultimately winning.

“What do you mean?” Pete asked breezily.

“After the wolves—you just left me there! I was practically attacked by those dreadful monkeys, and nearly taken prisoner—it was only my ability to think on my feet that kept me safe!”

Pete stared at him. “You're already changing the story to suit yourself,” he said coolly. “Amazing. ‘Think on your feet'? Is that what you call what you did back there?”

Hex faltered. “Well, I—I mean, it's true the little monkey was the one who helped me expose the chancellor as a charlatan and restore peace to the queendom, but I'm the one who was able to get through to the queen when no one else could. Doesn't that
count for something?” He resolutely avoided thinking about the hurt on Iris's face when he'd claimed sole credit for exposing Quentin. He didn't have time to worry about that now—he had to find out what the next test would be, and fast, before Pete disappeared again. “You yourself basically said I was a con man,” he added. “Maybe I'm just remembering who I am. You're the one who won't tell me anything except that I'm from somewhere that isn't here and that it's my job to help you save a place I don't remember anything about. Why should I even want to do anything you ask of me?”

Pete sighed, and his harsh expression softened. “Look, I don't like this any more than you do. But Oz has always had a complicated relationship with the Other Place. It took someone from there—Dorothy—to set Oz's decline in motion. And we think it will take someone else from there to repair what she's done to our country. Right now, you're our only hope—assuming you remember who you are in time to stop her. And I know you don't remember, but I promise, Oz is worth saving.”

“Our?”
Hex asked.

Pete looked at him for a long time, mixed emotions playing on his usually impassive face. Finally, as if making a decision, he nodded. “I'm . . . helping the fairies, let's just say. We're fighting to make Oz the place it once was, before you—” He cut himself off. “Before everything changed.”

“Before I what?” Hex asked. “Why can't you just tell me?”

Pete shook his head. “That's not how it works. You have to remember—truly remember—who you are.”

Hex looked at the ground, where tiny golden flowers with smiling faces beamed up at him. One of them appeared to be humming some kind of catchy jingle under its breath. “Did I—did I care about Oz?” he asked hesitantly. “Can you at least tell me that much?”

“You cared about yourself,” Pete said. “As for Oz—only you can know that, once your memory has returned.”

“Did it
seem
like I cared about Oz, when you knew me—before?”

“I've already told you all I can,” Pete said curtly, and the stony-faced, inscrutable boy was back again. “You can ask me all the questions you want, but that's not going to get you any real answers. Those you have to find on your own.”

“You're leaving me again, aren't you?” Hex said.

Pete smiled, though the grin didn't quite reach his brilliant emerald eyes. “You catch on quick.”

“I still don't even know what I'm being tested for.”

“The future of Oz,” Pete said. “No pressure. Like I said, so far, your score is pretty low.”

Hex thought of what he'd done to poor Iris and winced. If he'd known that his time with the monkeys had been a trial of some kind, would he have done anything differently? Iris's hurt, heartbroken face flashed before him again, and he closed his eyes against the memory. “What happens if I fail?” Hex asked.

Pete shrugged. “We'll throw you back in the poppy field, I guess. If you fail you're of no use to anyone, let alone Oz. We don't need cowards and cheats on our side. Dorothy has plenty
of those if you want to throw your lot in with her.”

That name again.
Dorothy.
It rang the faintest of bells in his subconscious. Blue-and-white checks . . . something silver and glittering.
Shoes
, he thought suddenly.
There had been shoes.

“I liked the poppy field,” Hex admitted. “That doesn't seem much like punishment.”

“In that case,” Pete said calmly, “I guess we should just kill you.” It was impossible to tell if he was joking.

“Are you a fairy?” Hex asked quickly, hoping to change the subject. But Pete looked troubled.

“I've already told you more than I should,” he said. “The fairies sent me, and that's all you need to know.”

“But how will I know when I'm being tested?”

Pete smiled like a cat with a cornered mouse. “Oh, believe me,” he said. “You'll know.”

“How will I know where to go?” Hex asked, but Pete had already vanished in another flash of purple electricity.

Hex looked down at his battered shoes—the only thing, he realized, that he had that was left over from his life before, whatever that life had been. Just beyond his toes, he noticed for the first time a sandy path that led off into the dark woods. He was sure—well, almost sure—that the path hadn't been there a moment ago. He looked up again; all around him, brambles and bracken had closed in. Their thick, waxy leaves waved eerily even though there was no wind, and huge, glossy black thorns sprouted from the branches, oozing a viscous slime that looked distinctly poisonous.

He had no other option but to follow the path through the thick underbrush. The only way out, it seemed, was forward.