Page 6 of Ozma

Present Day

Free. Ozma was free. She’d never known what that meant. All her life she’d belonged to Mombi, or had been a prisoner in the dark place with Reva—the Good Witch of the West who had been forced into becoming the Wicked Witch for a time. Trapped within Mombi’s magical barrier around a small pumpkin farm in Loland, Ozma had never been able to venture out into the rest of Oz. There was a possibility that she could get stuck inside the barrier of the patch again, but she would try to get Jack’s attention from outside it.

Loland was on the outskirts of the Shifting Sands, across from the Eastern Land of Oz. The Wizard had used the silver slippers to send her to the dark place, but Ozma was unsure how and when she’d been changed into Tip. But it had to have been sometime as a baby, because Reva had never known King Pastoria and Queen Lurline to have had a child. Her guess was that Mombi or Oz had stolen her, but then what? Why hadn’t her parents gone searching for her or spread word that she’d gone missing before they’d died? She’d learned from Reva that Langwidere had taken Lurline’s head and Oz had murdered Pastoria. That made Ozma the rightful ruler of Oz, and she had never known, not until she’d been angry enough to somehow break the curse that Mombi placed on her.

Ozma was going to kill them both, retrieve her slippers, and then her kingdom.

Seeing the world as it truly was, not from Jack’s maps or Reva’s stories, was no comparison. And it was nothing like the dark place—that nightmare world where only a mad dash and a climb to the tops of the tallest trees brought a moment’s relief from the threatening creatures. The South had been deserted but it was still beautiful, and she’d come across live Wheelers! Killed one. Felt that rush of doing something good. She’d been inside a brothel with Reva, seen fae pleasuring one another out in the open. It had given her a shock, but also made her want to know more, understand how she might bring pleasure to Jack in this female body. She’d never even explored it much herself because of the constant danger in the dark place, and the endless running. Jack had always been attracted to males and females, while she had only ever been attracted to Jack. Though, she supposed, he was the only fae she had ever been around.

Since parting ways with Reva at the brothel, and waiting around to make sure Crow—Reva’s husband—could catch up with her friend, Ozma had only stopped to rest in the branches of trees for the night. But she hadn’t slept much. She wanted to stay awake not only to be prepared to run if need be, but to see the Land of Oz in the moonlight.

Ozma adjusted the blue dress she’d gotten from an abandoned shop with Reva before they’d left the South. She hopped over a rotting log, then another, the map of the vast land pulsing through her veins. Though Ozma didn’t have her magic, something was there, guiding her in the right direction. The moment when Thelia’s power had brought Ozma and Reva back from the dark place, she’d felt every inch of Oz within her. Perhaps this was a bit of magic. She wanted to explore everything, but not yet. Not when she had to prove herself worthy to the fae that depended on her success.

Even though Thelia had already defeated Langwidere and Reva was on her way to vanquish Locasta, the biggest threat still remained. If Oz wasn’t stopped, none of the other good things mattered. And worse, he would find a way to get rid of Thelia and Reva to keep his throne.

Ozma couldn’t let that happen. She needed to cross the desert to see if Mombi was still in her hut. Her heart thump-thumped with the name Jack over and over. What had Mombi told him? That she gave her away? That Tip broke through the magical barrier and made a run for it? Did he think she was dead? But he would never trust whatever lies Mombi had told him. She believed that down to her bones.

Every night in the dark place, for the past two years, she’d thought about him, wanted to see his lovely face, feel his calloused hands against her naked body, his strong hugs that could always calm her fears.

While Reva would try endlessly to forget Crow, Ozma had never once wanted to forget her Jack. Not the orange of his hair under the morning sun, the light sprinkle of freckles on his nose—like flickering stars in a night sky—his high cheekbones, the plumpness of his lips. Hiskisses.

She. Loved. Him. And he loved her. Only, she hadn’t been Ozma then when he’d spoken those words to her in his bed, in the lake, beneath the night sky, as the sun rose. She’d been Tippertarius and had been unknowingly forced to live in a male’s body. At times, she still yearned to be Tip, but only because he was who Jack had wanted. Not who she wanted to be. If she had a chance to be a male again, it wouldn’t feel right.

When she found out she was Ozma, after falling into the dark place, it took some time to get used to, but also felt like she was always meant to be this fae. She was a female, one destined to rule the entirety of Oz. On the day Ozma had broken her unknown curse, she finally felt true to herself. Being a queen was another matter—she didn’t truly know if she could succeed at it.

Ozma tried to shove away her too-many thoughts as she squeezed through branches covered in thick moss and stepped over patches of polka-dotted mushrooms and flowered shrubbery. A few birds flew from the trees, pumping their…Wings. She’d only had strong, feathery wings for moments, but she knew with her whole heart that she needed them back. They were a part of her, and Mombi had burned them to ash. But once the silver slippers were on her feet, it was possible they would grow once more.

A sparkling river came into view and Ozma stopped at the water and gathered the cool liquid in her canteen. The internal map told her she’d be at the Shifting Sands soon. Even though Mombi’s pumpkin patch hadn’t been far from it, the Sands had never been possible for Ozma to see because of the barrier, but Jack had told her about its bright multi-colored grains. Still, she had never wanted to cross its sandy peaks. Not after the stories Mombi had told her about creatures emerging from its depths, biting the heads off fae and eating them from the inside out.

As Ozma brought one last handful of water to her lips, the raised scar on her back throbbed. The phantom pain of her wings was always a reminder of Mombi. After stewing so long in the dark place, Ozma was sure she would have the strength to outwit the witch who’d ruined her life. Only one good thing had come from Mombi keeping Ozma from her destiny, and that was Jack. But he’d been stolen away from his family, just as she had.

Determined, she placed her satchel’s strap over her head and thought of him as she wandered through the forest toward the desert.

Ozma pressed her fingers to her lips as she stared out at the Shifting Sands. The color was so intense, it made it hard to keep her eyes open. There were so many hues, from dark blues to light purples and bright pinks. It seemed to sway, rhythmically, creating a dance of colors. The light breeze floating across the mounds seemed to sing as if luring its prey.

She shivered at the sight, even though she didn’t want to be afraid. All she had to do was get to the other side. The distance across wasn’t far, but width wise, it stretched on and on.

She wiggled her toes in the grass, the blades tickling her skin. The Sands could make her see things if it wished, make herfeelthem. Ozma always thought Mombi had lied, but once she’d fallen into the dark place, after swapping her shredded clothing for a blue dress off the skeleton of a dead fae, Reva had told her that the story was true. Each Sand territory had its own hidden dangers. Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to cross the Deadly Desert, because she didn’t know if being the true queen of Oz would keep her from turning to sand.

“Let’s do this, Ozma. Let’s go to Jack. He’s your home.” Blowing out a breath and squaring her shoulders, Ozma pressed one bare foot onto the warm sand. She expected the touch to burn her heel, but instead, it was a light caress. She knew not to trust it. Whichever way the Wizard had crossed, whether the Shifting Sands, the Impassible Desert, the Great Sandy Waste, or even the Deadly Desert, he had to have used the silver slippers or Mombi’s help to do it. Otherwise, his mortality would have prevented him from surviving the trip.

Ozma would get the slippers from him, and she would only ever use them for good—if she decided to use them at all after her world was safe.

The winds kicked up, swirling around her, faster and faster. She kept focused, trudging ahead, the grains stinging her eyes and scratching her skin. Beneath her feet, the sand shifted, making it seem like she was walking on water. Ozma knew it wasn’t the sand moving on its own, but what lay hidden beneath.Please stay below until I finish crossing.

A roaring sounded in the distance, muffled by the sand. If she sprinted, the creatures below might notice her sooner and chew her to pieces. The sand quaked. The world rumbled. In front of her, a head shot up from the grains. Large black wings flapped. Thick yellow saliva dripped from sharp teeth set in a wide mouth, and thorn-like spikes ran from the top of its head down its massive, blue-scaled body. It wouldn’t be the short, clawed arms that grabbed her, but the mouth. And she bet it would be quick.

Ozma’s heart seemed to skip a few beats as her body trembled. If only she had her wings, then she could have easily avoided this situation. She genuinely wanted to keep her head attached to her body. All she had was a dagger at her waist that wouldn’t do much damage if she used it.

She caught the look in the beast’s eyes and jolted out of the way just as the creature’s teeth tore into the sand with an ear-piercing shriek. There was no hesitation from her—she sprinted. Pumping her legs as fast as she could, Ozma thought of Jack’s face, his eyes, his lips, him pulling her across the sand, though it was really only her who was doing this. On her own.

With a quick glance over her shoulder, she watched as the spiked tail of the beast swished in the air while the rest of the body vanished into the sand.

The edge of the desert wasn’t far now. A few moments and she would be safe, but the beast shot up again. Followed by a second. Both studied her with predatory skill, then scrutinized each other, as if neither wanted to share. One dove, mouth wide open, sharp teeth glistening, aiming for the other’s throat with a loud growl. A wailing screech echoed.

Ozma suppressed a shudder at the thought of them deciding to divide her and ripping her in half. She took the chance to run again while they were distracted. The heat of the sun beat at her skin as she held her breath, and she didn’t breathe again until her feet met grass.

Dropping to her knees, chest heaving, she hurried to turn around. In the small stretch of sand, the two beasts were still fighting, bright red blood pouring from deep wounds on both their bodies. One of the blue creatures buried its fangs into the other, spraying more crimson. The beast unlatched its mouth and let the second creature collapse to the sand, unmoving.

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