The Librarian (Book Two: Unhappily Ever After) (19 page)

He stumbled to his feet, sprinting after them. They were already thirty feet above him and rising fast.

No!
Wesley thought.
No! No! No!

Wes dodged everything in his path. He circled the Tinman who was screaming at the monkeys, still fighting them off with his maker's hammer. He darted past the Cowardly Lion who was batting at two of the screeching monkeys and hiding behind a pathetic roar. He even ignored the Scarecrow as three monkeys held him down while another pulled the straw from his body.

None of that mattered. Wes couldn't help them. Their destiny had been written more than a century before. But Taylor's...

He raced after her.

She was sixty feet above him. Even farther out.

Please!
he thought.

Eighty feet.

Please! Tay!

One hundred.

Turn! Look! One time! I'm here! Just...

But she never did. Taylor never saw just how close he'd come to saving her – or that he'd even come at all.

Wesley watched her until the end. She and her captor were nothing more than a pinprick of black in the sky. Soon after that, they were gone for good.

He fell to his knees and stayed there for what seemed like an eternity, frozen, staring up at the empty sky while completely oblivious to everything that had happened around him: the Lion had been captured; the Scarecrow was left for dead; the Tinman had been dropped onto jagged rocks meant to be his death. Wesley stayed there, oblivious to everything but her. He didn't even know he was sobbing until the end.

DOUGLAS WATCHED UNTIL the crystal's pink smoke disappeared, taking Wesley and the other tiny figures with it.

"Yes!" the Witch screamed. "See? What did I tell you?"

Douglas turned to Bones who was standing near the doorway with his arms crossed. "Take Randy," he ordered. "Go out on the balcony to greet her."

"What?" Randy whined. "Why me?"

"She'll need to see a friendly face."

"But we
aren't
friends. She hates me!"

Douglas put a hand on Randy's shoulder hoping the small show of affection might calm him down. "You're all she's got, son. And she needs someone. Think how scared she must be right now." Randy looked down at the ground, but Douglas raised his chin. "Just be nice, Randal. If she hates you it's just because she doesn't know you yet."

"Okay," Randy said softly. "I'll try."

Douglas turned Randy toward the door and gave him a little shove. "Now go..."

Randy saw Bones waiting in the doorway and let the dark character lead him out of the room. He had so many questions running through his mind as they climbed the stairs in silence. How could his dad leave him alone with Bones like this again? What was so important about this book that his dad was willing to kill for it? And who was his dad? Who was he
really
? This wasn't the same man who'd taught him to ride his bike, was it? He wasn't the same man who had pulled his baby teeth and built a tree house and camped under the stars with Randy. It couldn't be. Could it?

They were important, worrisome questions. But right now they all took a backseat to the most pressing of all: what the heck was he going to say when Taylor got there?

WESLEY FOUND THE Scarecrow first. Most of the straw had been pulled from his body and tossed to the ground. Wes scrambled to collect it before it blew away then fell to both knees and began stuffing the Scarecrow's clothes as best he could. Moments later, the Scarecrow sat up, the same old smile stitched into his face.

"What happened?" he asked. Even without a brain, Wesley knew just a quick look around would give the Scarecrow his answer. He didn't have the heart to tell him himself.

They walked through the ravine together, eventually finding the Tinman when they heard his painful moans coming from a rocky area on the ravine's embankment. Wesley scaled the jagged boulders and helped the metal man to his feet.

"Thank you," the Tinman said. "I was beginning to think all of you'd been captured and I would be trapped alone like before." He looked about. "Where's Miss Taylor?"

The Scarecrow answered for Wesley. "The monkeys took her," he said. "The Lion, too."

Wesley started down the gravel path.

"Where are you going?"

"To save them."

Wesley's tone made the Scarecrow feel as if he'd asked a silly question. He and the Tinman shared a nervous look.

"Wesley," the Scarecrow began, "I've grown to like Taylor a great deal. I want to save her too, but there's no way the three of us can kill the Witch alone."

"He's right," the Tinman said. "Maybe
everyone's
right. Maybe we should just go back. We've lost two friends, and we haven't even made it to the gate."

Wesley stared into the distance. It did feel like a fool's errand. But Taylor wouldn't give up on him, and he wasn't about to turn his back on her. Not again. He stood in silence for a long time before finally speaking up.

"You're right," Wesley said. His voice was so low that it was barely audible.

"What do you mean?" the Scarecrow asked. "
Who's
right?"

"We'll go back." Wesley began to search for the trail that would lead them out of the ravine. He was carrying himself with a new air of confidence that neither the Scarecrow nor the Tinman seemed to understand. "There's no way we can take the Witch's castle alone."

RANDY WATCHED THE monkey approach with Taylor, wings flapping as it swooped down and dropped her onto the balcony beside him before flying away again.

Taylor came to her feet, quickly checking her surroundings. She was ready for anything. Almost anything...

"Randy?" Taylor asked.

"Are you okay?" Randy asked. "They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"Hurt me? Randy? What are you doing here?!"

"Me? I thought you went back home?"

"It's a long story. We came back to fix things."

"Wesley's here, too? Dang!"

She couldn't tell if the concern in Randy's voice was real.

"What's going on, Randy?"
 

"My dad sent me."

"Your dad?"

He could tell she had questions just like him. Lots of them. He stepped toward her. "There isn't time, Tay."

"Don't call me that!"

For every step he took toward her, Taylor backed away.

"Okay," he said. "Just calm down."

"No! Why is your dad in Oz?"

"I don't know. Okay? This whole thing is about some book in the library. He says the librarian promised it to him. Something like that. I don't know." Randy was getting flustered. This wasn't how their conversation was supposed to go. "It doesn't matter. He's going to take you back with us. That's why he sent the monkeys."

"The Witch sent them, Randy."

"No she didn't! My dad did. Okay? He's going to help you get back, you just... you have to be nice about it."

"Yeah," Taylor smirked. "
That's
gonna happen."

"I'm serious, Taylor. Don't make him mad. My dad... he's different here. He's done things. If you get in his way, I can't stop him. Seriously, there's something...
off
about him."

That got Taylor's attention. Off. That's just how her father had acted. Had Randy's dad changed, too? Had Randy? He seemed different somehow.

"Randy, what's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Randy exclaimed.

He stuck out his chest and threw on a cocky grin. It was the same tough guy persona he hid behind in school, but Taylor could finally see through it. She finally understood there was a little more to Randy Stanford than she knew. There was something more hiding beneath the surface.

She looked at him sideways. He melted beneath her stare. His shoulders slumped. His smile vanished. Finally giving in, he looked over at Bones before leaning in to whisper something in Taylor's ear. "I'm scared, Tay. I'm really scared."

THE LIBRARIAN WAS about to give up when the lock clicked and his cell door creaked open. He slinked through the door then quickly left the room, bending his spectacles back into shape as he went.

THE WITCH WAS through taking chances. By sundown, every guard in her kingdom was standing outside the castle gate. Wesley guessed there were fifty men waiting when he and the Tinman made their approach.

One of the guards was wearing a metal helmet with a purple plume. He spotted the strangers, pointing as he stepped forward.

"You there! Don't make another move!"

Wesley and the Tinman did as they were told. The guard with the plume turned to the men behind him.

"What do we do?"

"We're supposed to kill anyone we see," someone reminded. "Those are the Witch's orders."

"But it's just a boy? He's harmless."

"That other one doesn't look harmless to me." He gestured toward the Tin Woodsman with his spear.

The guard with the plume nodded in agreement then turned his attention to Wesley and the Tinman once more.

"Hurry," he said. "Turn and go! Before something bad happens to you!"

Wesley cleared his throat. "We'll go," he hollered. "We aren't here to fight. But the Witch is holding our friends prisoner. Convince her to let them go, and no one has to get hurt today."

The guards looked around at one another. Some snickered. Others snorted. Then, the rest erupted in a chorus of belly laughs that could be heard for miles. Wesley flinched. He knew this would be their reaction but wasn't prepared for how small and insignificant it would make him feel.

One of the guards was doubled over with laughter. "Oh, child! We needed a good laugh. Thank you! Now, go on. Run back to your parents before you've worn out your welcome."

"I'm sorry," Wesley said. "We aren't going anywhere."

The guard giggled a moment longer, but the amusement disappeared from his face when he saw Wesley was serious.

"Don't be a fool, boy! If you don't leave, I'll send my men to get you, and you'll wish you had!"

Wesley shifted his weight from one foot to the next. The Tinman stood his ground beside him.

The guard in the plume shook his head in frustration. He waved one of his men forward. The guard who'd seen Douglas shoot his crooked-nosed friend stepped out of the crowd.

"Me?" he asked tentatively.
 

"Yes," the guard said. "Go and get them."

"But sir, something's not right about this boy. Don't you agree? What if he's carrying one of those noisemakers like the man before? He'll kill us all."

The guard in the purple plume didn't like the sound of that. There
was
something strange about the boy. Something a little odd. Like he knew something the guards didn't. As if he
wanted
them to come after him.

"Tell me, boy. Are you carrying one of those noisy wands?"

"Noisy wands," Wesley smirked. "No, sir."

"You have no weapons at all, then?"

"Well... that's not exactly what I said, either." Wesley looked up at the Tinman. "Do your thing, Nick."

Wesley's phrasing confused the Tinman, but he understood what Wesley wanted nonetheless. He balled his fist and began to pound on his metal chest just as they'd planned.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The guards immediately moved into a defensive position: shields up with spears ready. They waited to see what would happen. When nothing did, the guards began to laugh again.

"Oh, child! Your friend can beat on his chest all he likes. That isn't going to—"

The guard stopped short. He could hear the faint rustle of something coming up the stone staircase. The others heard it, too. They began to look their surroundings over once more, this time with worry in their eyes. A few pulled swords from their sheaths, just in case.

The guard with the plume looked out at Wesley, squinting his eyes to see if there was something he'd missed. And then, he saw them.

"Battle positions!"

The villagers came up the staircase in a wave, all of them, every friend Taylor and Wes had made in their journey screaming as they charged for the castle gate.

BONES LED RANDY and Taylor from the castle balcony and into the Witch's chambers. They passed three nervous guards on their way. All three were rushing along; each was armed with a bow and had a quiver filled with arrows strapped across his back.

The Witch was screeching orders at two guards when Randy and Taylor entered the room. When she was done, both men hurried away.

Taylor looked over at Randy. "Is this normal?"

He shook his head. "What's happening, dad?"

Douglas turned away from the window to answer, but the Witch beat him to it.

"We're under siege!" she hissed. "What does it look like?"

Randy stepped to the window and looked out.

A battle was brewing on the grounds below. The Tinman was leading a ragged group of peasants in an attack on the castle. The men were engaging the castle guards while a mob of women and children were charging toward the gate.

Randy turned to wave Taylor over but she ignored him.

Something else had caught her eye.

Amidst the madness, a skinny maid in a patchwork dress was scrubbing the Witch's floor with a large brush. She was on her knees and only stopped swabbing the tiled stone occasionally to dip her brush in the bucket of soapy water beside her.
 

"We need to leave," Douglas explained.

"Retreat?" the Witch sneered. "I think not! I fought back the Great and Powerful Oz. Surely I can fend off a few starving peasants."

"The monkeys fought the Wizard back. Not you."

The Witch measured him with her eyes. "Is this what you were talking about? This is written in your book that governs my world?"

"No," Douglas said as he glanced out the window again. "This is something else."