Part 1 (2/2)

I lifted my head and stared at her. ”What do you mean, be myself?”

”Well,” she said reasonably, ”you had all sorts of travels together, didn't you? It's the stuff of legend, sir. Everyone in Oz knows about how you and Miss Dorothy and the Scarecrow and the Lion defeated the Wizard and sent him away, and liberated the Winkies, and how honorably Dorothy behaved to the winged monkeys, and all of that. You're a n.o.ble figure, sir. You're a king and a soldier and I think Dorothy would have to be an awfully silly girl not to be impressed by all of that. So just be yourself. If it's meant to be, it'll be.”

”But what if it's not meant to be?” I asked her. ”How do I convince her?”

”That's just not how it works, sir. You can't convince people of feelings they don't have. But you'll know, I'm sure you will. From the way she looks at you. She's a smart girl, that Dorothy; she couldn't have saved Oz otherwise. She won't beat around the bush if she has feelings for you, too. Anyway, you look very handsome.”

This little maid was the most sensible person I had talked to in months. ”That's very good advice,” I said. ”Thank you, you've been a big help. What's your name?”

”Jellia, sir.”

”Well, Jellia, perhaps you'll keep this conversation to yourself.” She winked at me and made a zippering motion over her lips.

”What conversation, sir?” she asked.

The ballroom was packed. All of Oz, it seemed, had turned out to witness our savior's return. A huge orchestra, set up at the far end of the enormous hall, played cheery waltzes. Rainbow-colored b.u.t.terflies fluttered gaily over the instruments, sending showers of confetti swirling through the air. My old friends the Scarecrow and the Lion were there, of course. The Scarecrow was dressed in a new suit chosen for the occasion, and the Lion's fur had been brushed to a burnished golden glow. The Scarecrow caught sight of me first, and waved merrily. I crossed the crowded room, making my way through throngs of Ozians decked out in their finest clothes, to greet my old friend. ”You made it!” he shouted over the noise, clapping me on the back and shaking my hand. The Lion roared his approval, sending a brief tremor of fear through the nearest partygoers before they realized who was doing the roaring. I wondered briefly if the Scarecrow was resentful-after all, not too long ago, this palace had been his. But if he was upset to have been deposed by Ozma, he didn't show it. Of course, his face was painted on, so his expressions were sometimes hard to read. Anyway, as happy as I was to see them, I had larger matters on my mind than catching up. ”Have you seen her?” I asked the Scarecrow frantically. ”Where is she? Is she here?” He gave me a long, strange, startled look.

”It's good to see you, too,” he said, laughing. ”Tin, what on earth? We haven't seen each other in ages, and-” A hush fell over the throng, and I knew at once that she had arrived. My stuffed heart in my throat, I turned to face the ballroom's grand entrance.

The sweet-faced girl I remembered was gone, replaced by a woman so beautiful that I nearly wept. Her dress was of the same blue gingham that she'd worn during her last sojourn in Oz, but it was cut to flatter her figure, and ended inches above her knees. It was st.i.tched with gold thread that sent dazzling rays of light across the room and left bare her long, pale legs. Instead of the silver slippers she'd left Oz in, she wore a towering pair of glittering red heels that shone so brightly that they drowned out all the other light sources in the room, pulsing slightly as if in time to the pattern of her breath.

After a moment I noticed the people at her side: a frumpy old couple, looking lost and out of place, who could only be the Aunt Em and Uncle Henry she'd spoken of so fondly when she was last in Oz. But these humble people could hardly be related to the glorious creature whose radiant smile dominated the whole room. Dear little Toto yapped happily at Dorothy's heels, oblivious to the power radiating from her shoes. And of course, Ozma stood behind Dorothy with an expression that looked almost . . . disapproving. Like all of us, she must have realized that tired old Aunt Em and Uncle Henry had no place here. But if they were with Dorothy, did that mean she had returned for good?

Dorothy moved through the joyous crowd, greeting old friends and new ones with the same grace. She was as regal as a queen. I waited for her to catch sight of me, preparing myself to hold her in my arms at last. But as she approached, the Scarecrow ran to Dorothy and swept her up in his arms, tossing her into the air as she shrieked with joy. The band struck up a waltz and they whirled together across the purple-lit dance floor. I knew he had no idea of the depth of my feelings for Dorothy, but I couldn't help staring after them in a frenzy of jealousy nonetheless.

At last, as if he could feel the force of my gaze burning a hole through his head, he danced Dorothy back to me. I had been waiting for this moment for so long, but all the flowery words I'd prepared vanished. I remembered what the maid had told me-just be yourself. But now that I was actually holding Dorothy in my arms, I could barely even manage to stutter a h.e.l.lo. Up close, her beauty was even more stunning, more astonis.h.i.+ng. There was a new light in her eyes and her cheeks were flushed. The air around her crackled with magic. There was no mistaking this Dorothy for the child who had left me when she went back to the Other Place. This Dorothy was like a brand-new person.

”Tin Woodman!” she shrieked in my ear, her voice even more musical than the notes the orchestra played. At last, I remembered myself, and twirled her around before dipping her so low her long ringlets nearly brushed the ground. She laughed gaily. I pulled her close to my chest, and the orchestra slowed the tempo to something more romantic. The people around us cleared a s.p.a.ce, surrounding us in a transfixed circle as I moved with her in tighter and tighter circles. The whole world fell away-it was just me and her, the strawberry-sweet smell of her hair, the softness of her skin a perfect contrast to the hard metal of my arms and torso. I was so overcome I would have swooned, but I couldn't allow the moment to end. ”It's so good to see you again,” she murmured in my ear, her gentle voice sending a s.h.i.+ver through me. ”I've missed you so much.” Was there a knowing sparkle in her eyes, a special look that was just for me? Did she know how I felt without my even having to say it out loud? I took a deep breath.

”Dorothy, you are my moonlit star-” I began, but her gaze suddenly focused on something over my shoulder.

”Oh my goodness, Tin, look! It's Polychrome! How wonderful! Simply everyone has come to my ball!”

”Dorothy, my starlit moon-” I tried again, but she released me, sending me stumbling backward into the waiting crowd. ”I'll see you again soon, darling Tin!” she trilled, clicking away briskly on her red heels. When I caught my balance again, she was already chattering away with Polychrome. I would have kicked myself if my joints were flexible enough. My starlit moon? The first time I'd seen the love of my life in years, and I'd called her a starlit moon? I cursed aloud, earning a surprised look from a Munchkin pa.s.sing by with a tray of canapes.

”Penny for your thoughts, old tin can!” bellowed a familiar voice. I tried to control my emotions as the Lion slapped my back with one enormous paw, nearly knocking me over. ”Where have you been, old sport? Heard you were in the palace yesterday, but haven't seen a peep of you until now. Hiding from your old mates, are you?”

”Not at all,” I said, gathering the ruins of my dignity. ”It's wonderful to see you. I wasn't feeling well, is all.”

”Not feeling well?” the Lion asked. ”Man, you're made of tin! Don't tell me you're coming down with a cold.”

”Nothing like that,” I said. ”Just tired from the journey. I trust you've been well?” The Lion brightened and launched into an enthusiastic history of his most recent triumph, the successful management of some arcane dispute between a badger and a dormouse who lived in his forest. I couldn't help but notice that his breath was rather rank. ”And you?” he asked, finally bringing his ramble to a close. ”How's life with the Winkies? Have you tried eating one? They look awful tough.”

”Very good, very good,” I said, only half paying attention. Across the room, Dorothy had rejoined Ozma. I tried to catch her eye to no avail. Should I go to her, or let her come to me? I'd ruined our reunion-completely ruined it. I didn't think I could take the Lion-predictable and good-natured as ever-for another moment. A wave of misery overcame me. ”Excuse me,” I said faintly, ”but I'm still ill. I think-I think I have to go back to my room now.”

Overcome with emotion, I broke into a half run and staggered out of the ballroom. The Wizard had given me my heart, but he'd never told me how to manage it. I'd gone so much of my life without one that I was out of practice. She'd told me that she'd missed me. I could have sworn that her look had been something special just for me. I'd flubbed my pretty speech, failed completely to tell her how I felt-but surely I still had a chance? I had no idea how to control the confusing pa.s.sions that surged through my metal chest. I raced away from the ballroom and back toward my rooms. She had said we would be together. She had promised me it would be soon. I would let her accept the praise that was her due, enjoy her moment in the spotlight. I'd waited for so long. I could wait just a little longer, until I held her in my arms once more.

THREE.

The next morning, I met the Scarecrow and the Lion for breakfast in the Lion's chambers. Like my own rooms, they were lushly appointed, but where my bed was a giant four-poster, the Lion's was something like an enormous dog bed. Special attention had been given to the walls, which were painted with s.h.i.+mmering murals of antelope fleeing in terror from some unknown foe-presumably the Lion. Even the magic of the palace couldn't cover up the Lion's distinctive perfume, and the servants had yet to clear away a pile of gnawed bones in one corner. The Lion was the only one of us who actually ate. He was working away at an enormous raw steak when we arrived. ”Being the King of Beasts really activates the appet.i.te,” he mumbled through a mouthful of meat. The Scarecrow and I exchanged a glance. I was fond of the Lion, but couldn't help wis.h.i.+ng becoming royalty had improved his table manners.

Dorothy was nowhere to be seen; probably she'd already been witness to one of the Lion's breakfasts, and had wisely decided to pa.s.s on a second opportunity. I tried not to let my frantic antic.i.p.ation show. Where was she? Why, after summoning me all the way to the palace, was she being so elusive? Was she just shy? Could it be that she was wondering if I cared about her in the same way she cared about me?

My mind was awhirl, but I made polite conversation with the Lion and the Scarecrow. We caught up on our respective comings and goings since Dorothy left Oz. The Lion was enjoying his new role as the King of Beasts, although he confessed to periodically snacking on one of his subjects. ”Not the best for morale,” he admitted, ”but it does wonders for discipline.”

After his brief stint as ruler of Oz, the Scarecrow had retired to a corncob mansion in the country. I wondered if he had any bad feelings toward Ozma. After all, the Wizard had appointed him the ruler of Oz, not that upstart fairy. But he was vague about what he'd been doing all this time. ”Of course, it was such a wonderful surprise when Dorothy turned up on my doorstep with that funny old pair Em and Henry,” he said, after he'd talked for quite some time about the technical difficulties of corncob architecture. I must admit I wasn't quite following his monologue, but I snapped to attention at that.

”You mean at the ball,” I said.

”Oh no,” the Scarecrow said serenely. ”She came to my mansion, of course. Practically the moment she got back to Oz. Threw a little party for her. The Munchkins were over the moon. Don't think Em and Henry enjoyed it much, though. They kept talking about how much they missed their cows. Some sort of talking pet in the Other Place, I gather. They said they had quite a few of 'em.”

”Why did Dorothy come to you?” I said, openly hurt, and the Scarecrow raised a painted eyebrow in surprise. I smiled quickly to cover my slip. How I felt about Dorothy wasn't anyone else's business. Not until I knew she felt the same way about me.

”Well, I suppose I was on the way to the Emerald City,” the Scarecrow mused. He seemed thoughtful, and he kept looking at me with his beady little b.u.t.ton eyes.

”Quite something, that business with the aunt and uncle,” the Lion was saying through another mouthful. ”Didn't see that one coming. Does Dorothy seem . . . different to you?”

”Different how?” I asked quickly. ”What business?”

”Just after you left last night,” the Lion said. ”Dorothy got into a terrible fight with her aunt and uncle in front of the whole ball. And Ozma lost her temper, too, and shouted at Dorothy. Sent her right to her room like a little kid, can you imagine? Everyone's been talking about it all day. And no one knows where Dorothy and Ozma are now.”

”No one's seen Dorothy?” I asked.

”Not since she left the ball,” the Scarecrow confirmed. ”Though most likely she's just hiding in embarra.s.sment, poor thing.” He chuckled.

”Don't you dare talk about her that way!” I snapped. ”She's our savior! She'd do anything for us!” The Lion and the Scarecrow were staring at me in surprise.

”Goodness, Tin, no need to get worked up,” the Scarecrow said mildly. ”I didn't mean any disrespect. I'm sure Dorothy has her reasons for not seeing anyone today.”

I scowled, but let it go. Suddenly the Lion sniffed the air. ”I smell . . . glitter,” he said. I sat up straight. A moment later, I heard the fast tap-tap of a pair of high heels, and heard a familiar high-pitched giggle. Someone rapped on the door to the Lion's room, and before any of us could answer, it swung open. It was Dorothy, looking more radiant than ever. The air around her crackled and sparked with a strange haze. She was still wearing her dress from the ball, although it looked a little the worse for wear and was torn at the hem. What had happened? I wondered. Was she hurt? She didn't seem to be-she seemed, in fact, downright triumphant. Her shoes blazed with red light that made the Lion cover his eyes with one paw. Even the Scarecrow s.h.i.+elded his black b.u.t.ton eyes. And behind her, hovering a few inches off the ground, was none other than the Good Witch Glinda herself, looking like a cat who'd just been let loose in an unsupervised aviary. All three of us were so surprised we were speechless.

”My dear friends,” Dorothy said, her voice a satisfied purr and her gaze sweeping the room (and pausing for just a second on the Lion's gruesome leftovers), ”do I have news for you. Welcome to the new, improved Oz. I'm running the show now, and everything is going to be so much better.” We stared at her for a moment in stunned silence as Glinda floated behind her, beaming in a way that didn't quite reach her cold blue eyes. The Scarecrow was first to break the silence.

”Dorothy!” he exclaimed. ”We didn't know what happened to you after the ball. You vanished with Ozma and . . .” He paused, looking as confused as it was possible to look when your face was painted on. ”Where is Ozma? And what's she doing here?” By ”she” he obviously meant Glinda, who looked none too pleased to be referred to in such a disrespectful tone.

”Oh, Ozma.” Dorothy giggled, sweeping into the Lion's room with Glinda at her heels. Dorothy looked around for somewhere suitable to sit, her lip curling a little at the sight of the Lion's nest. Poor Dorothy! She would be accustomed to more genteel surroundings. Why hadn't we thought to clean the room for her?

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